Tumgik
#its not overwhelmingly weird but if i focus i can pick out the sounds and the volumes from colors
cryptoidantagonist · 3 years
Text
to me, colors have volume and a very faint sound, and sounds have colors. the sound's colors are not always the color's sounds.
like bloodred is very loud, with a faint hum and a faint hum is warm brown. this gets very confusing very fast.
2 notes · View notes
lewishamil10n · 3 years
Note
Please please please make that "Sam wouldn't wake up" into a full fic!!! (If u don't want to that's totally fine, I mean no pressure at all :)) it's just suuuuper good :D
[Sam wouldn't wake up.]
"What do you mean Sam's gone to see Jody?" Dean asked, frowning. "He called me a few hours ago and said he was going to go to bed."
"She had an emergency," Castiel said. He wasn't meeting Dean's eyes, which Dean found strange. This was Castiel — the dude often had to be reminded that humans didn't like being stared at intensely.
"Such as?" he asked.
"Sam didn't say," Castiel answered evasively.
"Weird," muttered Dean. He moved into his bedroom and put his bag down on his bed. "You know what, I'm gonna call him. Just check in, see what's up."
Castiel hesitated at the doorway. "I'm sure he's fine, Dean," he said. "Sam is a grown man. He doesn't need you checking on him all the time."
"I know that," Dean said, trying not to snap. It had been a long drive after an exhausting hunt, and he'd hated having to leave Sam behind. But Sam had been sick, practically delirious with fever and no good on a hunt, and so Dean had reluctantly left him in Castiel's care. He'd spent the entire trip worrying himself sick over his brother, calling to talk to him as much as he could. He'd broken damn near fifty laws speeding on his way back, and now Sam wasn't even home and Castiel was being weird.
Something wasn't right.
He fished his phone out of his pocket and hit Sam's latest number on speed dial. The entire time he was aware of Castiel watching him, eyes narrowed, and if Dean didn't know better he'd say the angel seemed apprehensive.
Two seconds of dial tone later, Dean heard Sam's ringtone. It was coming from somewhere within the bunker, which made no sense. Sam wouldn't have left home without his cell phone. "What the hell," muttered Dean, leaving his room so he could follow the sound. Castiel trailed after him, quiet.
The ringtone was issuing from Sam's room, his phone vibrating on his side table. Dean watched it ring for a second before hanging up on his end. "Sam wouldn't leave his phone," he said.
"He left in a hurry," Castiel said. "Perhaps he forgot."
"Then I'll call Jody," decided Dean.
"No!" exclaimed Castiel, and cringed when Dean turned to glare at him.
"What the hell is going on?" he demanded. "Cas, where's my brother?"
"Jody—" began Castiel weakly, but Dean cut him off.
"I think it's quite clear that's not what's happening," he snapped. "Or do you want me to call and confirm it?"
For a few moments Castiel just looked at him, posture tense and hands flexing, and then he said, "I do not know where Sam is. I came to his room and found him missing."
"Then why didn't you just say that in the first place?" asked Dean angrily. "Why did you lie to me?"
Castiel hesitated.
"Fuck's sake, Cas!" Dean threw his phone in the general direction of Sam's bed, where it bounced off a pillow to land on the floor. Paying it no mind, he ran his hands through his hair, trying to get his brain to work.
All of Sam's things were still in his room. His jacket slung over the back of his chair; boots at the foot of his bed; travel bag in its place; and of course, his cell phone on the table. It didn't look as if Sam had gone anywhere. He might as well have gone to the bathroom.
"How long has he been missing for?" Dean asked.
"I'm not sure," Castiel said after a beat. "I returned to his room to find him gone a few hours ago. I had checked on him some time before that and he'd been asleep."
Sam's bed was unmade. If Sam had gone anywhere of his own volition, he would have made his bed, he would have taken his things, he would have told Dean. Dean had no idea what the hell was going on, and it didn't help that his tired brain was barely able to process his brother's absence.
"Okay, okay, focus," he murmured to himself, his hands curling into fists. This was basic. Finding a missing person. Something he could do in his sleep. What had Dad taught them? Clues. Look for clues. He'd done that.
Tracking spells. John had taught them some, and Sam knew a whole lot more too. Dean was sure that if he looked, he'd find something that could help.
"Okay," he said again, and began looking around for something he could use. Sam's DNA would be perfect, but if not that, then something he owned could do as well — and there, a few strands of long brown hair on Sam's pillow. Dean picked them up carefully, wrapping them in his handkerchief, and he stowed it safely in his pocket before turning and striding out of Sam's room.
"Where are you going?" Castiel called after him, hurrying to catch up.
"To find my brother," Dean answered with determination, heading straight for the library. Not for the first time he felt glad for Sam's overwhelmingly obsessive need to organize everything — it would make looking for spells a lot easier. He supposed he could always call Rowena too, but he'd rather leave that as a last resort. She was an ally and Sam trusted her, but the less people knew about his disappearance, the better.
"Are you going to track him?" asked Castiel, watching as Dean flipped through a book of spells.
Dean muttered an affirmative, eyes on the yellowed pages in front of him.
"What if it doesn't work?" Castiel asked.
"Why wouldn't it work?" countered Dean. "We've got ingredients for pretty much everything, and I've got what I need for the spell to track Sam."
"Just a possibility," murmured Castiel.
Dean didn't want to think about that, so he focused his energies on going through the book. He found a spell soon enough, and felt an almost overwhelming rush of affection for his brother when he saw the notes Sam had put in the margins. Even when he wasn't there, he was helping Dean out, making his life easier.
"Are you going to stand there and keep staring, or are you planning on making yourself useful?" he asked Castiel, who started as if he'd been jolted out of a reverie.
"Of course, Dean, tell me what you need," he said, straightening.
Dean handed him a list of the ingredients they'd need for the spell. "We've got most of these in the stores, but I'll need you to find the pigeon wishbone. I don't think we have that."
Castiel squinted down at the list, and then looked up at Dean. "Of course, Dean," he said again. "I will do my best."
"Cool," said Dean gruffly. "Hurry."
"Yes, I will." Castiel turned to go, and then paused. "Dean, if there is anything you want to talk about — I understand you must be worried and afraid. I just want you to know I am here for you no matter what."
"Thanks?" Dean said, after a moment. "That's really nice, Cas, but I'm all right. I just need to find Sam, and I'll be peachy."
For a nanosecond Dean thought he saw frustration cross Castiel's face, but it was gone before he could be sure. Castiel's expression was impassive as he said, "I understand," and turned his back on Dean.
It took Castiel around ten hours to locate and acquire a pigeon wishbone, during which time Dean got the spell set up and ready to go. He put the ingredients in the bowl as Castiel watched, and read the words from the book exactly as Sam instructed in his notes. He added Sam's hair to it and said some more words, and put the edge of a map to the flames arising in the bowl. He watched as the map burnt up, little flames traveling around the edges of the paper and eating it up until there was nothing left.
The spell didn't work.
"Fuck," snarled Dean, throwing his hand out and sweeping everything to the floor in his anger. "Fuck, how did it not work? How—" He rounded on Castiel. "Pigeon wishbone, are you sure it was pigeon wishbone? The real deal?"
Castiel looked taken aback at being questioned like this. "Of course I am, Dean. I verified what it was before bringing it to you."
Dean stared at him for a few moments, and then turned away. His heart was racing. With each hour away from Sam, it felt like he was losing years off his own lifespan. "I'm calling Rowena," he muttered, grabbing his cell phone off the floor.
"Isn't there anything else we can try?" Castiel asked, looking at the mess Dean had made of the war room.
"There is. I'm doing it," Dean told him, phone held to his ear as he waited for Rowena to pick up.
The phone kept ringing. She did not answer. Dean tried again, and then a third time. Nothing. It was as if he was dialing a dead end, which he knew was not possible because Rowena had sworn that that number would reach her no matter what. He knew that she wouldn't be reached if she didn't want to be — but it had been a long time since Rowena had felt the need to hide from the Winchesters.
Dean hung up and threw his phone into the nearest wall. It broke apart, screen cracking and the casing coming off, and Dean felt a second of vicious satisfaction before it immediately turned to regret. Shit, what if Sam tried calling that number? What if Rowena called back? Fuck. Sam could call and call and Dean wouldn't know, because all his other numbers redirected to this one, and— and he wouldn't know if Sam needed him.
Overcome suddenly with fatigue, Dean collapsed into the nearest chair. It felt like his legs were giving out on him, his entire body reacting to the events of the last few hours. Sam was gone, Rowena wasn't picking up the phone, and Dean had no idea where to even begin looking. He could feel the stress and lack of sleep catching up with him, and for the first time, it was mixed in with fear. Yeah, he was perfectly aware Sam could more than look after himself. But fuck, he was still Dean's little brother, and he was sick, he'd been coughing up a lung the last time they'd spoken on the phone—
"I shouldn't have left him," he said, and wasn't surprised to hear how hoarse his voice was. "God, I should have just — just stayed, and—"
"Dean. You can't blame yourself." Castiel sounded earnest, and was looking at Dean with pleading eyes. "You are a hunter, and you were doing your duty. Sam is not a child that needs looking after."
"Why do you keep saying that, man?" questioned Dean, suddenly annoyed. "I know he's not a kid, Cas. He's survived more than you and I put together, more than we could even imagine on our worst days. But he's my little brother, okay? He's all I've got, so forgive me for worrying about him!"
"Why do you say he's all you've got?" Now Castiel sounded irritated too. "Am I not here with you, Dean? Have I not been here for you whenever you've needed me?"
"Uh." Dean paused, taken aback. Castiel seemed... well, if Dean had to pick a word, he'd say jealous. Castiel seemed jealous. "Dude. You know what I meant," he said, watching the angel carefully. "'Course you've been here too. But Sam's different. You know that."
"Different?" repeated Castiel. "All the pain he has caused you, and you still care so much for him."
"All the pain — what are you talking about?" This was getting too damn confusing, and Dean needed a drink. He needed some rest. He needed — God, he needed his little brother back.
"You know what I'm talking about," Castiel said, almost snappishly.
"No, I don't," Dean said.
There was a subtle shift in the atmosphere. The air between them felt charged, almost electric. It felt like one wrong move, one misplaced word, and lightning would strike. The look on Castiel's face was strange and foreign. It looked like someone else's expression was twisting his features. He was always intense; now, he felt almost dangerous, and Dean couldn't quite put his finger on why. But something had changed, that much was clear. And so was the fact that Castiel knew more than he was letting on.
"I mean — don't you ever get tired of it, Dean?" Castiel asked, his tone a weird mixture of earnest and annoyed. "Dragging him around, making sure he's all right, that he is not... going off the rails, as you say. There is always something or the other wrong with him, some problem you must fix, and I don't understand how you do it. I do not understand why you stay. Why you even care enough to—"
"Cas," warned Dean. "That's my little brother you're talking about."
"Yes, I know, you've said as much multiple times," scoffed Castiel. He seemed almost crazed now, and he had that guilty look in his eyes that Dean was all too familiar with. The look that followed whatever he'd done that needed to be undone.
"Cas, what's going on here?" Dean asked one last time. "And don't — don't give me some story about Sam going missing, or whatever. I need to know the truth, Cas."
"The truth?" Cas let out a harsh laugh. "Okay, Dean. Here is the truth. I am tired of being sidelined. I am tired of always coming second to an absolute disaster of a human being. I am tired of pretending that I care for him as much as I do for you."
Dean's hand tightened on the handle of his gun. He hadn't even been aware he'd reached for it, though it remained hidden under the table. "What the fuck are you talking about?" he demanded. "I'm not kidding, Cas, you ever call him that again I'll make you wish you'd never been poofed into existence—"
"But he is," interrupted Castiel. His hair was standing on end from where he'd run his fingers through it, and his eyes were wide, demeanor frenzied. Dean couldn't recall ever seeing him in this state. Up until now, he'd had the impression that Castiel liked Sam, loved him, even. He knew Sam valued their friendship, always stood up for him when Dean was too hard on him, when he'd messed up again and felt guilt. He could never have imagined that all along, this is what Castiel had really thought.
He thought of how Sam would feel if he knew — the betrayal, the way his heart would break. It was the thought of tears in Sam's eyes that had Dean getting to his feet, gun abandoned in favor of an angel blade.
God, this was so messy. He had no idea how it had come to this.
"Cas," he said quietly. "Tell me you don't mean it. Tell me this isn't you, and we'll let this go, never talk about it again."
Castiel let out a hollow laugh. It rang around the room, making Dean's hair stand on end. "It is me, Dean," he said harshly. "I'm not under the influence of any spell, any magic, anything at all. But my words wouldn't be any less truthful if I was."
"You don't know what the fuck you're talking about," Dean said then, voice quiet. "All this time I thought you cared about Sam, that you liked him. And here's the kicker, Cas — he fuckin' adores you. Fuck, he's been kinder to you than I ever have, even I know that. So what the fuck are you doing, Cas? Where is all this coming from?"
"You wouldn't understand," Castiel said, and there was hate in his tone. "You are so blinded by your love for him that you can't see anything else. Anyone else."
Dean blinked. "What." Then he decided it didn't matter, and held his angel sword higher so that it was in plain view of Castiel. "Never mind, I don't care. Cas, I'm gonna ask you one last time before I'm forced to make this dirtier than it already is. Where is my brother?"
Castiel looked down at the blade, and then up at Dean. He smiled, and it was cruel in its coldness. "I don't know," he said. "For all I know, his atoms are scattered all over the entire universe."
Dean's blood froze in his veins. "What?"
"There was nothing wrong with your spell, Dean," Castiel said. "But tracking spells are only useful for locating living people."
"No," said Dean, and then again, "No," because it made no sense, Castiel was talking crap—
"He's gone," Castiel said, with an indifferent shrug. "I didn't mean to. I was only trying to help him sleep, but... well. I don't know where he is."
"What did you do to him?" whispered Dean. His hand was shaking, angel blade unsteady in his grip. "Cas, what did you do?"
Castiel looked him in the eye. "I got rid of him."
Dean didn't know when or how it happened. The angel blade was cold in his hands, and Castiel was spread-eagle on the war room floor, bracketed in the burnt-out silhouette of his wings. The fight hadn't been long. Castiel had barely defended himself. He seemed to have resigned himself to the fact of his own death, and that did nothing to comfort Dean in the least.
Sam was gone. Sam was gone.
Dean sank to the ground, angel blade clattering to the ground, his head in his hands. He felt weak in the knees. His heart felt like it was going to give out any second, and his eyes were burning with rage and disbelief.
Sammy was gone. His sweet, kind, brave little brother. Gone.
He never should have gone on that hunt.
Maybe, he thought, half-panicked and hysteric, maybe Billie would accept Castiel in exchange for Sam. It was a very low chance, but — that was what they did. They took the odds and made them their bitch, and now was not going to be any different. He wouldn't take no for an answer. And if she refused, he'd just beg her to take him too. Either way, he was not going to live without Sam.
Dean got to his feet, took in a shaky breath, and reached for the spellbook.
end.
80 notes · View notes
dothwrites · 4 years
Note
Cas using Enochian pick-up lines on oblivious Dean. Dean doesn't get them, Cas feels rejected each time, and Sammy is done with it all! Can I have that fic, pretty please?
ah, this has been sitting here for a WHILE, so i’m sorry that i’m trash 
lost in translation
---
It begins when Dean is pathetically trying to impress his crush. 
Or at least that would be Sam’s take, if Dean cared enough to ask him. 
Dean would rather say that it began with a simple misunderstanding, one which could happen to anyone. 
He doesn’t ask Cas’ opinion of the situation (and Cas would say that’s the whole crux of the problem). 
Whoever has the correct perspective, no one would argue about the beginning of the affair. It starts one afternoon when Dean is contemplating switching Sam’s creamer with buttermilk, just for a break in the monotony. Cas is with him in the library, his customary suit and coat exchanged for a hoodie and a comfortable looking pair of jeans which Dean suspects used to belong to him (there’s something vaguely familiar about that hole in the knee, and it wouldn’t be the first time Cas has pilfered his room for clothing; several of Dean’s shirts have ended up upon the angel’s body. Cas always seems perplexed when Dean calls him on his thievery, plucking at the shirt with faint confusion--Oh this? I found this down in the laundry room a few days ago and thought it looked familiar, do you want it back? And the question is phrased so forlornly that Dean can’t help but allow Cas to steal another article of clothing out from under his very nose.). Cas dresses down these days. And slouches. Right now, his chin is in danger of disappearing into his chest. The sight delights Dean. There for a while, he hadn’t been sure Cas was capable of relaxing.
It’s an overwhelmingly quiet afternoon. It’s nice, because Dean loves to spend time with Cas when there’s no imminent blood or monsters on their horizons, but it’s also boring. Dean sneaks a glance at Cas over the top of his book. Cas seems perfectly content to sit all day reading some godawful thick, leather bound tome. Dean finds himself less than content, but he doesn’t want to leave Cas. He sighs, shifting in his seat as he pretends to read. After a few more minutes, he sighs again, this time with a little more spite in the sound.
(Dean’s about three seconds away from kicking his feet and whining I’m bored, but Cas doesn’t need to know that.) 
Cas mutters under his breath. Dean recognizes the guttural syllables of Enochian, which is Cas’ go-to language for when he’s saying something hateful and he doesn’t want to get called out on it. Tough luck for him, though, because Dean’s heard one of those words enough to parse its meaning. 
“Did you just call me stupid?” he demands, slapping his book down on the arm of the chair. 
Castiel looks at him, his eyes wide with surprise. “You...understood that?” he asks. “You understand Enochian?”
Not in the slightest, is what Dean should say. He understands one word, and that’s only because Cas uses it enough as an insult that it managed to stick in his mind. But something that looks like fondness, and admiration, and other nice adjectives which Dean would like Cas to apply to him, shines at the edges of Cas’ eyes. So he rolls his eyes a little bit (the audacity of Cas! Asking him if he bothered to study something which was not strictly required!) and scoffs, “Uh, kind of hard not to at this point, you know, what with...” He waves his hand at Cas, hoping that the vagueness of the gesture will cover a multitude of sins. 
And really, he should come clean. If the past fifteen years have taught him anything, it’s that nothing good comes from lying to your nearest and dearest. But this is just a little white lie. Like when he was sixteen and he told Brandy Fletcher he could play a rocking drum solo, because he wanted to impress her and there was no way he would ever be called upon to perform such a task. This is just a little fib, made so that Cas doesn’t think he’s a fucking idiot. 
Plus, there’s something which looks horribly similar to gratitude shining in Cas’ eyes. The emotion brims over until those baby blues can hardly contain it, and Cas looks so goddamned happy. Dean’s not a monster. He’s not going to take that away from Cas just so he can come clean with a Gotcha! moment. 
Cas bites at his lower lip, looking uncommonly shy. Worry starts to stir in Dean’s gut, which is only compounded when Cas says something else in soft yet clear Enochian. As the new phrase doesn’t have the word stupid anywhere in it, Dean doesn’t have the slightest idea of what Cas is saying. The guilt squirming in his stomach gets worse when Cas looks at him, with gentle anticipation, as though he’s expecting a reply. Dean does what humans have been doing since the beginning of time when confronted with a language they don’t understand and smiles, wide and sunny, at Cas. Cas’ forehead creases but he returns the gesture. His eyes are still brimming over with emotion and the sight does something to Dean. 
Dean begins to suspect that he may have started something which he is not equipped to finish. 
---
After that, things get a little weird. Considering Dean’s general life, that’s saying something. 
Dean catches Cas looking at him more, like Cas is having a one-man staring contest with the side of his face. Cas staring at him is nothing to write home about, but his looks have gained new intensity. It makes Dean’s innards squirm with worry as well as something deeper. He’s not willing to examine that feeling any closer, though it is pleasant. 
As if the soulful looks weren’t bad enough, there’s also the thoughtful slant of Cas’ eyes to worry about. Every time he looks at Dean, he looks like he’s working himself up to something momentous. Since momentous decrees from Cas usually come hand in hand with world-ending events and revelations, Dean thinks he can forgiven for dodging Cas’ presence. 
It does him no good: the bunker, for all its space, is only so large in the end, and Cas was once a heavenly messenger who has the patience of millennia. Add that to the fact that Dean needs to eat at least twice a day, and the game of Cornering Dean becomes a game of cards, in which the deck is stacked firmly in Cas’ favor. 
Dean sneaks into the kitchen sometime between midnight and two am. If Sam caught him, then he would get a talking-to about the most appropriate times to eat, better digestive function, and the ravages of heartburn in a man his age, but it’s not his brother sitting at the table when Dean flicks on the light. 
It’s Cas, who blinks owlishly at him, before his face splits into his brightest smile. 
(Cas’ brightest smile is an awkward, crooked little thing. On a regular human being it would be considered unbecoming. On Cas, it’s a thing of glory.)
“Dean,” Cas greets him. Hearing his voice in that low, rough voice never fails to send a little shiver down his spine, and today is no different. “This is an odd time for a snack.” 
“Yeah,” Dean says, a little lamely. The shock of finding Cas in the kitchen has kind of killed his appetite, but it’s not like he can turn around and leave. “Just, you know, had a craving. Why were you here?” 
Cas looks around the kitchen, his mouth pursed. “I like it here. It’s peaceful.” 
Dean looks at him, waiting for the punchline. “You were sitting in the dark, dude.” 
“Oh. Well, I don’t need lights to see in the dark,” Cas says, as though the knowledge that his best friend has some freaky see in the dark cat eye nonsense going on with him isn’t the weirdest thing Dean’s heard all day. 
“Great.” Dean opens the fridge and pulls out a container at random. He spares one second to hope that Sam got rid of all the moldy food before he samples the contents. “Well, I think I’m going back to my room now.” 
He wants to get out of here, not so much because he doesn’t want to talk to Cas (he has no problem with late-night chats with Cas, it’s just that he would prefer such chats take place in his room, preferably in his bed, preferably while both participants were significantly less dressed), but because Cas is starting to get that look again, like he’s getting ready to drop an atomic bomb’s worth of shit on Dean in the middle of the kitchen. 
“Dean.” Cas stands up. He twists his fingers together before he realizes what he’s doing, and then places them flat against his thighs. He takes a deep breath. Before Dean can stop him, Cas opens his mouth. 
Low, rolling syllables flow through the kitchen, the harsh notations of Enochian softened by Cas’ voice. There’s a question in Cas’ eyes, and Dean would answer it, if he only knew what Cas was asking. 
The kitchen falls into silence. Dean gets the distinct impression that walking away is not the appropriate reaction. If only he knew what the appropriate reaction was. 
He settles for plastering a fake ass smile on his face and loosing a brittle laugh which threatens to shatter the lighting fixtures. The corners of his mouth hurt from the wideness of his smile, but not even the small twinge of pain can take away from the brief flash of hurt in Cas’ eyes. 
“Yeah. You bet.” Dean barely restrains himself from giving Cas a big thumbs up.
Cas’ face, if possible, turns even more disconsolate. Dean’s stomach twists at the sight. 
This would be the correct moment to confess. Cas, I don’t have the faintest idea what you said, but I’d really like it if you could say it again in English, so that I could maybe comment on it. Sorry I’m such a jackass. 
Dean does not confess. He reaches out and claps Cas on the shoulder, almost buckling Cas’ knees under the friendly contact. Dean almost stops, but he continues to his room, trying to erase the memory of Cas’ stricken face. 
---
It gets worse. 
Cas says something in Enochian to him the next morning, a tiny, hopeful smile darting across his face. Dean gives him a weak smile in return and tries not to focus on the longing, almost desperate tone of Cas’ voice. “Ok, Cas,” he says, when it becomes clear Cas is angling for something more than a smile that makes it look like he ate some bad tacos. 
Cas takes him by the wrist. This time the syllables which come out of his mouth are almost frantic. His eyes are wide and imploring, and his voice cracks on the last word. 
The truth, Dean. Tell him the truth. 
“Look, I’m sorry, Cas,” Dean says. Confronted by the weight of his failings and his inadequacies, he flees. All the while, he feels Cas’ eyes on his back. 
---
It gets worse. 
Cas continues to mutter Enochian at him, alternating between frustrated, hurt, mocking, and pleading inflections. Each time, Dean looks at him in a mixture of helplessness and shame. 
The last time Cas tries, there’s a faint snap and tingle of grace curling around the room. Dean can taste it in the air, ozone and electricity, before it makes the lamp closest to him spark and pop. “Great, now you’re killing the furniture,” comes out of his mouth before he can stop it. 
Cas recoils as though Dean reached out and slapped him. He says something else in Enochian, his voice small and defeated. He won’t even look at Dean. 
If Dean were a better person, he would come clean. He would apologize to Cas and beg his forgiveness. He would take Cas’ scorn and irritation and lump it in with the rest of the shit that’s gone wrong with his life, and they would move past this. 
Dean’s not a good person. Hell, he’s not even an okay person. He’s a piece of shit who got a hell of a lot luckier than he ever deserved, and Cas is just naive enough not to realize that. 
---
It gets worse. 
Sam walks into the library one afternoon with a dazed look on his face which means he’s just emerged from being caught deep in a book. He runs his hands through his hair and only then seems to realize that Dean and Cas are sitting at opposite ends of the library, deliberately ignoring each other. The tension in the room is thick enough to cut. 
“You guys okay?” he asks, glancing back and forth between them. 
“We’re good,” Dean says shortly, flipping a page of his book with unneeded aggression. 
Sam flicks his eyes towards Castiel. Cas looks over the top of his book, his eyebrows twisted in a scowl. He mutters something most definitely not English under his breath, staring at Dean. 
Sam chokes on nothing. 
“You all right there, Sammy?” Dean glances at Sam, only to see that his brother’s face is bright red. 
“Yeah, I’m great.” 
Castiel says something else in Enochian, sounding more forlorn than angry. Dean didn’t think it was possible for his brother’s eyes to get any wider. “Something you want to share with the rest of the class?” Dean asks. He keeps his eyes on Cas, but the question is meant for both of them. 
“I think you two should really talk,” Sam says, looking back and forth between him and Cas. “I think you’re both missing some information.” 
“What do you mean--” Dean pauses as the obvious answer comes to him. “Hold on. You can understand him?” 
“Don’t talk about me like I’m not in the room,” Castiel says, proving that he can speak English just damn fine when he wants to. Then, because Cas is an asshole whose main job is torturing Dean, he mutters something in Enochian. 
Sam snorts. 
If he didn’t know he would later regret it, Dean would put both of them in the ground. 
“Well, if you want someone to talk to you, then knock it off and speak English!” Dean snaps. “I’ve got no idea why you’re babbling on like that and looking like I kicked your puppy when I don’t answer.” 
Cas scowls, the full wrath of Heaven in his eyes. He starts what sounds like it will no doubt be a lengthy tirade (in Enochian of fucking course), before he’s interrupted by Sam. 
“Dean doesn’t understand Enochian, Cas!” he shouts. 
Two pairs of eyes snap to Sam. Dean’s are filled with furious betrayal, Cas’ with frustrated confusion. Sam ignores them both, rolling his own eyes to the ceiling. “Yeah, look, I’m sorry to cut in your drama or whatever, and I’m sure that you two could keep this up for another three weeks, but I value my sanity. Dean, nut up and tell Cas you don’t speak Enochian. Cas, stop running into a brick wall and tell him what you want. I mean, good God, it’s like I have to do everything around here myself!” 
Sam’s complaining never ceases as he peruses the shelves for the particular book he’s looking for. Both Dean and Cas are referred to multiple times as idiots, sometimes assholes, and once even idjits. Throughout his litany of abuse, Dean and Castiel refuse to look at each other, though Dean does feel a telltale prickling at the back of his neck several times. Every time he looks at Cas, however, the angel has his eyes firmly fixed on his book. 
Dean wonders if Cas would get more pissed if he told him his book was upside down. 
“You ever think about how much pain and agony you could save me if you two assholes would just talk to each other?” Sam finally snaps. Arms laden with books, he levels a fearsome glare at the both of them. “For homework, neither of you are coming out of this library until you’ve actually talked to each other like rational adults. And if you make any weird noises, I’m going to smother both of you in your sleep.” 
He stalks out of the library, leaving Cas and Dean alone once more. Cas looks up from his book, finally realizing it’s upside-down, while Dean puts down his own book. They stare at each other for a long moment, then speak at once. 
“Why didn’t you tell me you didn’t understand Enochian?” “What were you trying to say to me?” 
They stop. Dean swallows, gathers up all of his manly courage, and speaks. 
“So what were you trying to say to me? It must have been pretty exciting to get Sammy clutching his pearls.” 
Cas tilts his head. He considers Dean for a long moment before he crosses the space between them. Cas leans forward, putting his hands on the arms of Dean’s chair. The gesture boxes Dean in, a turn of events which Dean doesn’t struggle against. 
“Why didn’t you tell me you didn’t speak Enochian?” 
Pinned beneath Cas’ gaze, Dean squirms uncomfortably. Now that it’s just him and Cas, his deception seems childish. Would it really have been the end of the world if he’d told Cas he was too stupid and selfish to learn his language? It would have just been another disappointment in Cas’ life, but has it been worth these past few days of being at odds with Cas? 
Heat flushes along the bridge of Dean’s nose as he mutters, “I wanted you to think I was smart.” 
Damn super-angelic hearing. Cas doesn’t miss a beat, though his forehead creases. “You wanted...what? Dean, you are smart.” 
He says it so naturally, as though Dean doesn’t struggle over translations or speaking Latin or cross-referencing indexes or any of the thousand other things that seem to come naturally as breathing to Sam and Cas. “Yeah, sure, I’m a regular fucking genius,” Dean mumbles. 
“You’re capable of finding the problem with a faulty engine with a single look. You built your own EMF meter out of a spare Walkman. Despite your efforts to hide it, you’re very well-read, and you have an innate understanding of some fairly complicated mathematics. I’m not sure exactly what humans qualify as intelligent, but I feel as though all of those skills count.” 
Dean knows his whole face is red. Heat prickles along the tips of his ears and down his neck. “Jesus, Cas,” he mutters. Unable to withstand the force of those blue eyes, he darts his glance down towards the floor. “Most people don’t start sweet talking until the third date.” 
“Well, I’m an angel,” Castiel says, smugly, as though that solves every argument (not a bad strategy; that line’s worked for Cas for years. What else can you say after that?). 
“All right, I answered yours, now you answer mine. What were you trying to say to me?”
Amazingly, Cas’ cheeks color. 
“Come on, Cas,” Dean wheedles, when Cas doesn’t immediately answer. “I told you mine.” 
Cas looks off to the side. He actually shuffles his feet before he answers, “It was just a thought. I thought, maybe, we could...Never mind. It was stupid.” He looks back at Dean and rolls his eyes, showing how ridiculous he finds this whole trial. “I guess, roughly translated, it would amount of something like ‘If only he were as decisive as he is pretty, then there would be no problem’.” He forces a weak laugh. “I said it in the heat of the moment. I was frustrated.” 
Dean blinks in astonishment. Only one fact has managed to slip through the tangle of Cas’s words. “You think I’m pretty?” 
Castiel’s blush deepens. “Anyone who has eyes would think that,” he says, a little roughly. 
An automatic flush spreads across Dean’s cheeks, but he’s able to ignore that. He’s much more interested in what else Cas might have been telling him. “And what was something else you said?” 
Cas coughs. “’Your eyes are bright as the sunrise, yet they fail to see what is in front of them’,” he says. If possible, his already rough voice has deepened. 
“Another.” 
Cas doesn’t pretend coyness. “’You had my heart from the first time I saw your soul’,” he says, in a near whisper. 
Dean can’t hold himself back. He snatches Cas’ hoodie in his hands and drags Cas down to his level. Cas lets out a surprised grunt before he gracefully collapses atop Dean. He’s barely managed to balance himself on Dean’s lap before Dean’s lip are on his. 
Despite Dean’s rushed actions, the kiss is sweet and almost chaste. Cas’ lips are warm and chapped and utterly wonderful. At first, they’re stiff, but only for a second. Then Cas relaxes into the kiss, sighing happily as his hand cups Dean’s cheek. Cas’ stubble scratches against his chin. He’s going to bear the marks of Cas’ affection later, and he couldn’t be more thrilled about it. 
Cas parts from him, but not far. In fact, he’s close enough to Dean that when whispers a phrase in Enochian, his lips brush against Dean’s. 
A shiver of delight runs down Dean’s spine. Now that he knows the gist of what Cas was trying to say to him, Enochian fills him with illicit glee. “What did that mean?” 
Cas kisses him again, adding a cunning sweep of his tongue across the seam of Dean’s lips. “’Of all the stars in the heavens, you shine the brightest’,” he translates, resting his forehead against Dean’s. 
Heat floods through Dean once more. It’s everything he ever dreamed of hearing. It seems impossible that he could have it. There should be a rule against it. Dean Winchester doesn’t get what he wants. 
Except, apparently, Dean Winchester does get what he wants, as evidenced by his lapful of angel murmuring Enochian endearments into his ear. “Hey Cas?” Dean tilts his head to catch Cas’ eye. “When I first saw you, sparks flew. How would you say that in Enochian?” 
Cas thinks for a second before a smile spreads across his face. “I’ll teach you,” he promises, before he pulls Dean’s face towards him once more. 
(Sam’s warning about making weird noises makes a lot more sense now.)
562 notes · View notes
nicknellie · 3 years
Text
@sunset-reggie requested: A fic based off Reggie getting electrocuted that was mentioned in Snap.
Physics is my joint worst subject at school so for the purposes of this I might have made up my own rules for electricity? Maybe, I don’t really know. The issue was that in the US the mains voltage is 120V which won’t really do a lot (here in England it’s 230V but again you’ll probably be fine) so I made some shit up and I’m pretending I know what I’m talking about. I did research taking care of electric shock patients but sorry for anything that’s wrong. Still, thank you for the prompt, it was a lot of fun!!
Zap
Some nights, Reggie Peters would sleep like a log. The moment his head hit the pillow, he would be out cold, not waking up the whole night through and feeling happy and refreshed in the morning. Those good nights usually followed good days – days spent jamming in the studio with the band, days helping out at the rescue shelter and playing with his favourite animals, days he would hang out with his friends and laugh until their sides hurt and they couldn’t breathe. After a good day, the night was peaceful.
This was not one of those nights.
It hadn’t been a good day. In fact, it had been a decidedly bad day. When Reggie had woken up that morning, it hadn’t been to the sound of his alarm but to the echo of shouting from downstairs. He had guessed immediately that it was his parents fighting yet again – sighing haggardly, he had pulled a pillow over his face and pressed it hard against his ears, trying to block out the noise, but to no avail. Well and truly awake, he had grudgingly got out of bed and started his day.
School had been dreadful. In biology, the teacher had surprised them with a test. Reggie was a naturally high achiever, good in biology as he was in all his subjects, but that day luck wasn’t on his side. He hadn’t done any revision and his head was swimming with addled thoughts, cluttered and unfocused, and he could not for the life of him remember the different stages of meiosis. Throughout the whole test he had sat there, scratching his head, trying to remember that one little detail that was on the tip of his tongue, but before he knew it time had run out and he had only answered three questions. It had stuck him in that bad mood for the rest of the day.
He had thought that band practise would cheer him up like it usually did. For a while, he was right. In the Molinas garage, plucking the strings of his bass, Reggie felt his dark mood brighten. Perhaps the start of the day hadn’t been one for the history books, but he could salvage it by relaxing and playing his music with his wonderful friends.
“Let’s take it from the second verse,” Julie declared halfway through their run-through of Stand Tall, scribbling a note to herself on the bottom of her sheet music. “Reggie, can you up your bass a bit? I can’t hear it but your line is really great here and I think we should showcase it a little.”
“Sure thing, boss,” Reggie said, saluting. He fiddled with his amp for a moment (twisting the dial harder when it got stuck) to up the volume and struck a long, low note. Julie nodded, satisfied, and they picked the song up again.
It didn’t take long for things to start going downhill. At first, Reggie thought he was imagining the smell of smoke; after all, candles had been banned from the studio long ago after an incident with Luke and one of Alex’s favourite hoodies, so there shouldn’t have been anything burning. But after a moment, Julie’s face scrunched up in disgust and her singing dropped away as she glanced around the studio.
“Luke,” she said, reproachfully. He shot her an innocent look. “Did you bring in another scented candle? Even after what happened last time?”
“I never did get that replacement hoodie,” Alex grumbled.
Luke shook his head, sniffing the air like a dog. “It’s not me! I don’t know where that’s coming from.”
“It has to be something,” Reggie said, looking around. It smelled almost overwhelmingly strong near him – the others, whether they realised they were doing it or not, were all heading in his direction, sniffing the air for the source of the smell.
It was Alex who noticed.
“Reg, you’re smoking!”
Reggie shrugged. “I know I was kinda killing it, so thanks, but I think we have more important things to worry about right now.”
“No, no,” Julie said, eyes wide, pointing to Reggie. “Reggie, you’re smoking! You’re on fire!”
“Okay, I get it, thank you both, but we should focus on–”
“Reggie,” Luke all but yelled, “you are smoking! As in, there is smoke coming from you. Dude, do something!”
Reggie looked down at himself, immediately swatting at his clothes. It was weird – he didn’t feel like he was engulfed in flames. In fact, it didn’t look like he was either. Reggie was decidedly not on fire. But his bandmates had been correct about the smoke; it was rising around them, looping through the air and collating in a thick black cloud right above their heads.
It was then that Reggie had a horrible thought. If the smoke was coming from behind him, then it might have looked to his friends as if he were the one on fire. Slowly, dreading what he might see, he turned around and was met with a catastrophe.
It was his amp, sparking through the speakers, harsh smoke swirling into the air from its every crevice, cutting void-like black lines across the studio up to the ceiling.
“Not me,” he said, stricken, “it’s my amp. My brand-new amp. It’s broken.”
“What happened to it?” Julie asked, edging slightly closer. She placed a gentle hand on Reggie’s upper arm but he remained stiff. He barely even registered the touch.
“How can it have broken so fast?” Luke added, leaning probably too close and inspecting the amp. He jumped back and ducked behind Julie with a little yelp when a spark leapt at him. “You just got it two weeks ago.”
Alex pushed to the front, wafted his hand back and forth to clear the smoke, and squinted at the amp. For a moment there was an anticipatory silence, and then Alex said, “Ah. I see.”
“What?” Reggie prompted. “What went wrong?”
“What went wrong?” Alex echoed, straightening up and raising a condescending eyebrow. “I don’t know, Reg, maybe it was the fact that you tried to turn it up to a volume that doesn’t exist.”
Baffled, Reggie took Alex’s position, waving the smoke out of the way. He had been careful when Julie asked him to turn the volume up, he could have sworn that he hadn’t cranked it up any higher than ten. But lo and behold, the volume dial was twisted further than its highest volume, almost back at one.
“How did that happen?” Reggie wondered aloud. “All I did was turn it up, then it got kind of stiff, so I turned it harder and– oh.”
“I think when it went stiff it was because it wasn’t supposed to turn any more than it had,” Julie said quietly. She tugged Reggie away from the amp as a spark flew uncomfortably close to his face.
“Would that really do so much damage?” Luke asked sceptically, eyes narrowed.
Alex shrugged. “Looks like it.” He put a consoling hand on Reggie’s shoulder. “Hey, it’s okay, Reg. With the money we make from our next gig we can get you a new one, right?”
Reggie sighed heavily. After the nightmarish day he’d had, with this as the icing on the cake, he felt as if he’d had his very heart ripped from his chest. There was a weight there, a hefty, immovable boulder settled right where his heart should have been. He shrugged Alex’s and Julie’s hands from his arms, fed up and tired.
“I guess,” he mumbled, “but unless I’ve got an amp I can’t play that gig anyway, so you’ll be without a bassist.”
“I’m sure it’s fixable,” Julie reasoned, forced hope in her voice. They watched the amp cough out another jet of black smoke. Julie’s smile faltered. “Like, eighty percent sure.”
Alex checked the time and then patted Reggie on the shoulder. “It’s late anyway, we should stop now, get home. I’m sure we can get it fixed before our next rehearsal, don’t worry.”
“Yeah, and Reggie,” Luke added, swinging an arm around his shoulders, “don’t feel too bad, okay? If worse comes to worst we can just borrow an amp at the venue. It might not be as good as yours but it’ll be something.”
Reggie nodded. “Sure,” he said, “thanks.”
He checked the time for himself as the other three began to move about the studio, packing up their bits and pieces. It was almost ten o’clock – he hadn’t realised they’d been going on so long. He was exhausted, his limbs heavy with emotion and his head swimming with nothing much at all. No part of him thought he’d be able to walk himself home and on a day like this he didn’t want to take his chances in a car being driven by Luke.
“Hey Julie,” he said, tapping her on the shoulder. She smiled up at him as she put her microphone stand away. “Can I stay here tonight?”
“Of course,” she said as if it should have been obvious. “I’ll make up the couch inside–”
He shook his head. He wanted to stay in the studio – that was where the most comfort was. “No, no, in here is fine. Thank you, Julie.”
“Any time,” she said, beaming.
Not long later, Reggie and Julie said their goodbyes to Alex and Luke, who clambered into Luke’s beat-up car and sped away, over the speed limit by an amount that made Reggie’s head spin. Reggie waited in the studio while Julie went to get some pillows and blankets for him, his mind turning with thoughts of his parents and his bad school day and his amp that was still smoking in the corner of the studio.
Hence, tonight was not a good night for Reggie.
Eventually, Julie came back down, helped him make up the couch, and then they said their goodnights. When she left, Reggie shucked off his jacket and his jeans, then burrowed himself into the covers, clamping his eyes tight shut in the hopes that maybe, just maybe, he’d be able to catch sleep by surprise.
It didn’t work. He lay there for what felt like hours but couldn’t have been more than fifteen minutes, tossing and turning, switching which end of the couch his head was at, sticking various limbs out from under the blanket, trying to find some magic position that would get him to sleep. But nothing worked, and eventually he gave up.
The smell of smoke was enough to drive him insane. He didn’t want to have to wait to get the amp fixed – he wanted it fixed now, he wished it had never broken in the first place. Or rather, he wished he’d never broken it. He could have kicked himself; in hindsight, it was obvious that when the dial stopped moving the volume couldn’t be altered anymore – Reggie cursed himself for forcing it.
A thought struck him then. A crazy, stupid, reckless thought that Alex, if he were there, would have immediately forbidden. But Reggie thought that if it was his mistake then he should be the one to fix it, and the amp was right there, and he couldn’t sleep anyway, so he might as well…
He swung himself out from under the covers, flicked the studio light on and made his way over to the amp. It was still emitting a steady stream of smoke, sparks flying now and then. He inspected it a little more closely, yanking off the front to see the mechanics inside. He could see where the damage was and some cocky part of his brain decided that he could definitely fix it.
Lost in his thoughts, he was brought back to Earth by the grounding sound of rain falling on the flat roof of the studio. It was soothing and soft – Reggie had always liked rain, always found it calming. He wanted nothing more than to be outside right then, soaked to the skin, relaxed and carefree.
So his crazy, stupid, reckless thought developed and before he knew it Reggie was wheeling the amp from the safety of the studio to the wet and windy outside.
It was freezing and he regretted not bringing his jacket from the studio, but he couldn’t bring himself to go back inside now. The rain had him drenched within seconds, the amp too, and Reggie finally felt some of the tension in his muscles drain away.
He began to work.
Now, Reggie wasn’t to know that the amp was still plugged into the mains back in the studio. And he wasn’t to know that a power station half a mile away had just malfunctioned, letting a surge of electricity course through its wires, overwhelming every system and sending far too much electricity to every house in the nearby area. And he wasn’t to know that if he hadn’t been touching the amp then he would likely have been absolutely fine.
But the power surged through the mains, through the studio, through the amp, was worsened by the rain, and reached Reggie as he clutched the wires.
Zap.
Reggie was flung back with the force of the current, landing in a heap in the studio, finally asleep (if not in the way he’d intended to be).
*
He woke up. That was a good sign. His head was spinning as he tried to ease himself into a sitting position, raising a hand to his throbbing temple, but something pushed him back down. Reggie peeled his eyes open, but blinked at the harsh, too bright light and closed them again.
“Dad,” came Julie’s voice from somewhere above him, “he’s woken up!”
“That’s good,” called Ray’s voice from somewhere indeterminable, “is he okay? I’m still on the phone with the doctor.”
Reggie tried again to open his eyes and managed it, just barely. He was back on the couch in the studio, the lights were on but it was still pitch-black outside. He had been tucked into the blanket so tightly that he could hardly move, and perched on the edge of the sofa, clutching his hand like she was superglued to him, was Julie.
“Reggie,” she said gently, reaching out and brushing a lock of his dark hair away from his forehead. Her fingers were cool against his skin, soothing his headache that little bit. “How are you feeling?”
“Like hell,” he croaked. Just those two words felt like they were ripping his vocal chords out. He cleared his throat a little as Julie sent him a sympathetic, sad smile.
“Do you remember what happened?” she asked.
Reggie thought for a moment but found that it hurt his head to do so. He shrugged, then said, “I wanted to try and fix my amp so I took it outside and then… I don’t know.”
Julie gave him an exasperated smile. “In the pouring rain? Did no one ever tell you that water and electricity don’t mix?”
“Well, I know that now,” he grumbled.
“If it’s any consolation, you probably wouldn’t have been too hurt if the power station hadn’t gone wrong at the same time. The current was way bigger than it should have been – my dad’s talking to the doctors right now to see if we should take you to the hospital.”
“How long was I unconscious?” Reggie asked her, closing his eyes again.
“Well, when the power surge happened, I saw this massive flash outside my window and heard what sounded a lot like a teenage boy being thrown off his feet across a garage,” she told him matter-of-factly. “So, I came down to check on you and you were unconscious, so I got dad. But the whole thing hasn’t been more than twenty minutes. Does your head hurt?”
Reggie nodded, then winced. The movement ached.
Julie frowned. “That doesn’t seem like a good sign.”
At that moment, Reggie heard Ray say to the phone, “Okay, thank you very much for your help.” A moment later, he was crouched down beside Reggie, his kind face streaked with worry.
“You doing okay, kiddo?” he asked quietly.
Reggie sighed. “No. Everything hurts. Do I need to go to the hospital?”
“Well,” Ray began, “I just spoke to a very lovely doctor. She said that seeing as you weren’t in contact with the source for too long, and luckily the mishap with the power station wasn’t too bad, your situation could be a lot worse than it is. But we do have to keep an eye on you because it was an alternating current, which is more dangerous than direct.”
Reggie shuffled a little bit, trying to pull his blanket tighter around him for comfort. He felt Julie place a hand on his chest comfortingly, and he would have smiled if smiling didn’t hurt so much.
“Oh, and she gave me a list of things to ask you about,” Ray said, fishing a scrap of paper out of his pocket. “I wrote it down here, see. Loss of consciousness – obviously. Muscle spasms?”
Reggie should his head and Ray gave him an encouraging smile.
“That’s good,” he continued. “Any numbness or tingling anywhere? Or any breathing problems, or a headache?”
Reggie paid attention to his body for a minute. His legs felt numb, like they wouldn’t support him if he tried to stand up. And he had what was probably the worst headache of his entire life. But his breathing seemed fine to him. He reported his findings back to Ray, who made a few checks on his list.
“Problems with vision or hearing?”
“No,” Reggie said, “none.”
“Good. We checked you for burns and luckily there’s none. Seizures, well, we’ll have to keep an eye on you. Irregular heartbeat – Julie?”
It was only then that Reggie realised that Julie’s hand placed on his chest had been to check his heart. Slowly, he moved his hand out from under the blanket and covered Julie’s with it, wanting to keep the comfort close, stop her from leaving him. She smiled down at him gently, and put her other hand over his too.
“His heartbeat’s fine,” she said. “Normal speed, regular.”
Ray nodded, making a final check. “Excellent, excellent. Okay, Reggie, I’m going to call your parents, let them know what’s happened. It’s not a good idea to move you around too much; do you mind staying here for a few days?”
The thought almost made Reggie smile. The studio (and the rest of the Molinas’ house) was like a second home to him – he felt comfortable and at-home there like nowhere else. He had countless memories surrounding him, a thousand things to keep him preoccupied, even if that was just being lost in his own head.
“That’s fine by me,” Reggie said, trying to smile.
Ray beamed, then gently tousled Reggie’s hair as he stood up. “Good. Great. Okay, I’m going to make a call to your parents, you just let me know if you need anything. Night, Reggie.”
“Goodnight, Ray,” Reggie called after him as he left the studio. “Thank you.”
As Ray closed the door behind him, Julie stood up and made her way to the back of the studio where they kept all their equipment when they weren’t using it for rehearsal. Reggie watched in fascination as Julie dug around for a moment and then pulled out a TV on a wheeled stand, incredibly old and outdated. She blew a thick layer of dust off it then coughed when it flew right back in her face.
“When Carlos and I were little,” she began, tugging the stand closer to Reggie, “my mom used to watch old tapes on this with us. Mainly it was old home videos, or sometimes the tape of her and dad’s wedding, but we should still have some actual movies somewhere. I’ll find the DVD player and set it up, we can watch something together.”
Reggie was a little confused. “You’re not going up to bed?”
Julie looked offended at the suggestion. Reggie shrank back a bit from her glare. “Of course not! I’m staying down here with you for as long as you need me. I don’t want to leave you alone, Reggie, especially not when you’re like this.”
She rummaged about in the back of the studio for a little while longer. Reggie watched her collect an ancient DVD player and a stack of DVD cases, sorting through them and selecting a few. He knew he wasn’t alone in loving Julie – after all, she was an angel on Earth and it was hard not to love her – but right that moment he felt he couldn’t have treasured his sister any more. Just the fact that she was willing to forgo sleep to make sure he was safe meant more than he could describe. The moment she had finished setting up the DVD player and had put on Kung Fu Panda (knowing it was one of Reggie’s all-time favourites), she came to sit in front of the couch on the floor, and Reggie looped his arms around her neck in a weak hug. She held his hand tightly as the movie’s opening scene began to play.
*
Julie was truly a blessing. She stayed with him all night, not getting a wink of sleep herself because she wanted to make sure nothing bad happened to Reggie while he slept, and the next day she took turns with Ray and Carlos to keep an eye on him, waiting on his every beck and call. Reggie felt bad asking them for things so tried to do it as little as possible, only occasionally asking for a glass of water or another painkiller. But Julie, being Julie, seemed to know exactly what he didn’t want to ask for at all times and was more than happy to fetch anything.
Eventually, she had needed a break. Not by her own choice, but by Reggie’s.
“You’ve done so much,” he said at about midday, just as Julie came in to take over from Carlos again. “I’ll be fine by myself for a little, it’s not like anything that bad can happen.”
She shook her head. “You heard what my dad said. Something bad could happen, so someone needs to make sure you’re alright.”
“It doesn’t need to be you,” Reggie reasoned. “No offence, but you look worse than me right now. And you’re not the one who was electrocuted twelve hours ago.”
It was true – Julie didn’t function well on a lack of sleep, her eyes were heavy and she was teetering from side to side slightly as if she was going to fall over. She rolled her eyes at him but couldn’t deny what he’d said. She pulled her phone from her pocket with a sigh.
“Fine,” she said grudgingly. “Dad’s just taking Carlos to Little League, so it can’t be one of them. I’ll call Alex. Hopefully, he’ll be able to get here soon.”
Reggie listened to the one-sided conversation as Julie spoke to Alex. She sighed with relief, thanked him, and then said to Reggie, “He says he’ll be here in ten minutes. Do you need anything until then?”
Reggie thought for a moment, then let a grin split his face apart. “Can you sing for me?”
Julie huffed a laugh. “Really? That’s all you want?”
“Yes please,” Reggie returned, shuffling over to look at her, giving her his full attention. “Can you sing something by Johnny Cash?”
“Of course,” she replied with an easy smile. Reggie was privately proud of himself – he was the only reason Julie knew any of Johnny Cash’s country classics. She picked up Luke’s acoustic guitar (which he had forgotten to take back to his house the last fifteen times he’d been at the studio) and struck the first chord. “Love is a burning thing…”
Ten minutes later (or three performances of Ring of Fire, because it was the only Johnny Cash song that Julie knew the whole way through) Alex shouldered the door to the studio open, letting in a blast of cold air but also a delightful smell that Reggie would recognise anywhere. It was the aroma of Alex’s famous triple chocolate cookies, the kind he only made for special occasions like birthdays; it seemed that electrocution counted as a special occasion too.
He let the door fall shut behind him, shook his shaggy hair out of his eyes, and held a large Tupperware container aloft triumphantly.
“I brought cookies,” he announced.
He sat himself down at the end of the couch by Reggie’s feet and opened up the box. The already gorgeous smell doubled and Reggie groaned hungrily. Alex smiled, holding the box out towards him – Reggie took three cookies and tried to shove them all into his mouth at once.
“Alex,” he said around a mouthful of chocolate. “Have I ever told you that you’re the best cook I know?”
“Every time I make you food,” Alex replied. He extended the container to Julie who took one cookie, a lot less greedily than Reggie.
“Well, he’s right,” Julie said, beaming. “This smells amazing, Alex.”
“Tastes it, too,” Reggie added, licking the crumbs off his fingers.
Julie laughed, but then poorly stifled a yawn. Reggie ordered her to bed again, and with a tired little wave she left the studio. Settling down further on the sofa, Alex took one of his own cookies.
“I hope you weren’t doing anything important,” Reggie said, poking Alex’s side with his feet.
Alex shrugged and looked away, suddenly so interested in the studio’s ceiling that it was suspicious.
“What?” Reggie prompted, narrowing his eyes. “What were you doing?”
Alex seemed to be trying his hardest to act casual but wasn’t doing a very good job of it. Avoiding eye contact, awkwardly scratching the back of his neck, Alex said, “I was hanging with Willie, actually. But this is more important.”
Reggie felt his mouth fall open. He smacked Alex’s arm. “Dude,” he exclaimed. “That is way more important than me!”
“My love life is more important than your near-death experience,” he deadpanned, frowning disbelievingly.
“Yes!”
“No.”
“Come on, man,” Reggie said, prodding him with his feet again. He still couldn’t feel his legs so he wasn’t sure that his way of getting Alex to talk by nudging him was really working, but judging by the way Alex shifted away from him he was doing a good job. “Tell me everything!”
“There’s nothing to tell,” Alex said, raising his hands in something like surrender. But when he lowered them again, he shrugged and said much quieter, “He kissed me, though.”
“Nothing to tell?!” Reggie almost yelled. “Dude!”
Alex had a dopey smile on his face, a blush creeping across his cheeks. He ducked his head abashedly, his smile growing. “Okay, maybe there’s a little to tell.”
Reggie was about to press him a little more, get him to open up about what he’d been up to with Willie (the two of them had only made it official a week or so ago and Reggie would be lying if he said he wasn’t extremely invested in their relationship – Alex deserved someone who made him truly happy and Willie seemed to do exactly that) but all of a sudden he felt his abdomen contract and shake painfully. He doubled over, clutching at his stomach as the muscles squeezed, rapidly relaxing and pulling taut again.
Alex stood up abruptly. “Reg? What’s happening, what do you need?”
Reggie couldn’t answer. The pain had stopped (it had been brief yet sharp) but he was out of breath, breathing hard and fast. He shook his head, dreading another burst of pain, and tried to get a hold of himself.
Alex crouched down beside him and grabbed his hand. “Reggie, listen to me, alright? I’m going to try and get your breathing back to normal, okay? Breathe with me – in for four. One, two, three, four. Out for six. One, two, three, four, five, six. Great job, let’s go again, buddy.”
Reggie breathed in tandem with Alex, feeling grateful that he had such an amazing friend by his side. Alex didn’t let go of his hand once, getting his breathing back to something steady and safe. When he finally felt relaxed again, Reggie opened his eyes (he hadn’t realised how tightly he’d had them scrunched up and they watered when he opened them) and smiled smally at Alex.
“Thank you,” he said, “I’m okay.”
“What was that?” Alex asked, sitting back a little.
“Ray said something about muscle spasms,” Reggie explained, thinking back to the list Ray had mentioned before. “I guess that was one. It felt like someone was trying to shove my organs into a tin can.”
Alex nodded, though his expression said he had no idea what Reggie was talking about. “Okay. Was that the first time it’s happened?”
“Yeah. Hopefully, the only time it happens too.”
“You need anything?”
Reggie’s throat felt dry. He could feel it like sandpaper every time he swallowed. “Could you get me a glass of water, please?”
“You got it,” Alex said, hopping up. “I won’t be long. Have another cookie, you deserve one.”
Reggie took another cookie and silently thanked Alex for being so helpful. Alex had always been the most collected and resourceful of the group, so Reggie was glad it had been him there for this scary new side effect.
When Alex got back Reggie thanked him out loud, but he waved it away, saying it was what he had to do, no biggie. Reggie sat himself up and swung himself around, leaning against Alex and hugging him tightly. Alex rolled his eyes, but Reggie didn’t miss the way he smiled and hugged him back.
*
That evening, Luke arrived unannounced. He was in a complete and utter panic – it seemed that in all the chaos, nobody had actually told him about Reggie’s accident. When nobody had shown up to the busking session they’d planned down by the pier he had called Julie to find out what was going on and then made a mad dash to her house.
“I’ll take it from here, Alex,” Luke declared, marching into the studio, yanking Alex from his seat and shoving him out the door, shutting it behind him. Through the small window, Reggie could see Alex looking through, utterly bewildered. When Luke locked the door, Alex shrugged defeatedly, waved goodbye to Reggie, and left.
“Buddy,” Luke said to Reggie, sitting on the edge of the couch. “Reggie, dude. Bro. What happened to you, man?”
“Got electrocuted,” Reggie returned simply.
Luke rolled his eyes. “Well, yeah, I know that now. Julie told me. Eventually. Did you at least manage to fix your amp?”
Reggie sighed. Luke’s arrival had brightened his mood, but the mention of the accident and his amp had kind of ruined it. “No. Julie and Ray checked earlier but I think I made it worse. It’s beyond help.”
“That’s great!” Luke exclaimed. Reggie furrowed his brows, confused.
“No,” he said, “it’s not.”
Luke shook his head. “No, it’s fine. After I called Julie and she told me what happened, I mentioned it to my parents. And they immediately went online and ordered a new one, an even better model than the one you broke!”
“What?” Reggie said incredulously. “For real?”
“For real!”
“But they hate the band,” Reggie countered. It didn’t make any sense – the amount of times Emily and Mitch had explained to Luke and the others that they didn’t think the band was worth it didn’t exactly line up with this act of generosity.
Luke shrugged. “I know. But they felt bad, and they didn’t want us to spend all our money on getting a new one for you. Bro, you’re going to sound out of this world!”
Luke raved on and on about the new amp. Reggie made a mental note to give Emily and Mitch the biggest thank you and the tightest hug the next time he saw them. The amp he had broken hadn’t been cheap and he hated to think how much they were spending to get him an even better model.
But eventually, there was something else on his mind.
“Reggie,” Luke said, cutting off his own rant about a new song he was working on. “You okay? You look weird.”
Reggie grimaced. “I have to pee.”
“There’s a bathroom right over there,” Luke said with a shrug, pointing to the little door on the other side of the studio. Reggie just frowned deeper. Luke’s face fell as some sort of realisation dawned on him. “Please don’t say what I think you’re going to say.”
Reggie said it anyway: “I think you might have to take me.”
Luke groaned and fell back, covering his face with his hands. “Dude. Why?”
“I still can’t feel my legs,” Reggie explained, slightly desperately. If he didn’t get to a toilet soon he was sure there’d be an accident – and Luke would have to be the one to clear that up too, something Reggie was sure he wouldn’t like the sound of. “I’m not going to be able to walk without support!”
“What if you rolled across the floor instead?” Luke suggested.
“But then how would I get up to pee?”
Luke took a deep breath, steeling himself, then nodded and stood up. He swung his arms back and forth by his side then said resolutely, “Okay. Let’s do this.”
Reggie threw an arm around Luke’s shoulders, swung his dead legs off the couch and let Luke pull him to his feet. He couldn’t feel where his feet touched the ground and was letting Luke do practically everything movement-wise. Unsteadily, Reggie dug his fingers into the thin fabric of Luke’s shirt.
They entered the bathroom and Luke grimaced. “How do you want to do this?”
“Titanic-style,” Reggie decided.
Luke gave him a flat look. “What?”
“Like that scene in the Titanic,” Reggie explained. “You know, when Jack and Rose are on the bow of the ship and Jack holds her waist and she throws her arms out and–”
“How is this at all similar to me helping you pee?” Luke interrupted.
“You’ve gotta hold my waist and make sure I stay stood up,” Reggie said. Luke nodded and positioned himself behind Reggie as he did what he needed to do.
When he was done, Luke helped him limp to the sink to wash his hands, again clutching his waist to stop him from crumpling to the ground, and then they hobbled back to the couch in the main studio. Luke gently laid Reggie down and tucked him back under the blanket.
“I hope you never electrocute yourself again,” Luke said distastefully. “I don’t want to do that a second time.”
Reggie raised an eyebrow. “That’s the only reason you never want me to electrocute myself again?”
Luke shrugged. “Of course, bro. And, you know, the fact that you’re in horrible pain.”
Reggie laughed. It was the first time he had done that properly since he’d been shocked. It made sense – if anyone could tease a laugh from him then it had to be Luke. He raised his hand for a fist-bump and Luke indulged him with that tiny teasing smile.
*
Two weeks later, Reggie was back on his feet, everything back to normal. He had never counted himself so lucky to have such wonderful friends. Julie, who put him miles before herself; Alex, who had ditched all his other responsibilities and helped Reggie when it mattered most; and Luke, who had proved that he really would do anything for Reggie.
Perhaps the whole situation had been born out of a bad day, but Reggie had his friends there to remind him that things would always be okay in the end.
67 notes · View notes
missorgana · 3 years
Text
not without my muse
pairing: bucky barnes/sam wilson/steve rogers
fandom: mcu
rating: general
word count: 9259
warning: swearing, referenced (canon) character death
summary: Sam celebrates his birthday while on the run. He has a lot of feelings about being away from home, and a lot of feelings about two of his companions. (slightly canon divergent post-cacw pining)
(my best boy sam wilson’s birthday AND on bisexual visibility day 🥳 he is so important to me of course i needed to write something. this is for the lovely Samtember event by @samwilsonfest, and this is also my first time writing the all caps ot3 !! i want to thank my beta-reader for helping me out sm with this, and the horse gc on twitter for cheering me on as always 💖 hope you enjoy??)
read on ao3
This morning is just as the many, many other mornings Sam’s had since he became a fugitive from the government; waking up from relatively peaceful slumber on a stiff mattress and remembering the reality of the ship that is their only refuge. Better than stingy motels, though.
God. Yet another day.
It’s only been three months since Steve and him picked Bucky up; five months since Natasha joined them. Four of them now, harder to stay under the radar, but they’re making it work.
Naturally the blond is keeping an eye on his friend every waking moment, and Sam’s decided to do the same when Steve finally lets himself sleep.
The ex-Winter Soldier is quiet. He seemed happy to see them. Tired. Sam would be surprised otherwise.
And now they’ve landed for three days; that’s the maximum, of course, and they’ll have to get in the air as early as possible, stretching it an extra day isn’t the wisest, but resources are limited and they need to eat, obviously.
He blinks himself awake in the morning sunlight streaming in; the faintest of bird songs outside. Seems to be the first one awake.
Just another day on the run. Except-
Except it’s Sam’s birthday today.
It takes a minute for it to hit him, actually, funny; he’d almost forgotten it was coming up. That’s strange to think about. But as fugitives, that’s still just as much another day, because, well, what is he supposed to do?
What Sam sits up, stares into the empty space in front of him and thinks of, what he wants and needs so desperately is to go home. To his little sister, his nephews.
They have burner phones and it helps. But that doesn’t really feel like enough right now, it couldn’t. He hopes he’ll have the chance to have a phone call today, then, with any of them. Sarah’s voice always grounds him when he needs it, or hearing Cass’ laugh.
Even with burner phones they’re keeping contact short and limited, you can’t ever be careful enough. Maybe Nat’s too paranoid, or maybe she’s just too experienced with this thing. The latter, he’d say. They have to remain untraceable, unfindable.
Somehow, by his friend’s pained face a month ago, when she’d been humming  American Pie  to herself and he’d sat down, not really saying anything but rather just listened, a soothing sort of thing in the middle of this, he’s got a feeling she understands what he’s feeling right now. Missing someone so badly you can’t get yourself to do anything else.
Speaking of Natasha, soon enough she enters his line of vision and takes the rear seat, reminding him that he needs to get up already. Get ready. Get going. Yet another day.
“���Morning,” he tells her while stretching, his back aching, which is to be expected nowadays, sadly. Last night was probably the most rest they’ve had in days.
She nods in acknowledgement; not a morning person, he’s aware.
For a split second Sam wonders if she knows what day it is, but perhaps it doesn’t really matter. He can’t remember if he’s told her. Or if she found out on her own with those russian superspy skills of hers.
Ah, well. It’s not like he expects a surprise party. Or gifts or cake or… whatever. He just wishes he’d had more sleep, two weeks of it would be sufficient. One can only dream.
As his friend wakes the Quinjet to life and he himself gets to work at the map, previous locations and small jobs pinned as they go, though, he feels a hand and arm briefly graze his waist as the person passes by behind him.
He reveals himself soon enough; Steve’s voice is hoarser than usual when he tells him, “Happy birthday, Sammy.”
The blond caught a cold recently, which he didn’t even know was possible with the super serum, but he passed by it quickly. Reminded Bucky of the old days, whatever that may have meant.
His friend remembered. And now said friend is standing next to him with a shy smile and looking at him in a way that puzzles Sam. Sort of like he wants to say more. Or like the greeting wasn’t enough, like he was ashamed. Or like he’s keeping something from him. That’s a lot he’s getting from just one facial expression, he realises, but spending every waking moment with someone else makes you familiar, more than they already were, that is.
The smile does make him feel instantly better about getting up at all this morning.
It reminds Sam of Sarah’s voice. That doesn’t make much sense, does it?
But it’s grounding. He likes Steve’s smile a lot; the bigger one even better, when it turns into a grin without all the self-righteousness he puts on when they get down to business, and he just looks wide-eyed and sunny.
And he smiles back easily, feeling his smile form like the warmth spreading in his throat.
God, his eyes are still burning. His friend’s hand hasn’t left his waist, he suddenly realises. Does Steve realise? Should he point it out? He’s probably as tired as himself, he reasons.
“You remembered?” The statement comes out as more of a question, and the man next to him soon turns the smile into a half-frown.
“Of course,” the blond replies, “It’s your birthday.”
His voice is ever so stern. Sam would laugh at his serious demeanor, if he wasn’t still blinking sleep out of his eyes.
“I didn’t expect you to, man. Given our, uh… current situation.”
His friend’s hand still hasn’t left his waist. Huh. He isn’t complaining, though, the touch is… soft. Welcome. It just makes his brain wander, which is a little hard work at 6am.
“You should,” Steve says. He’s smiling again, and turns then, to look at the map lighting up in front of them, “It’s important.”
See, another thing Sam likes about him: the sincerity is overwhelmingly evident, clear when it’s coming from him. He nods, and bites his lip. Both of them seem to contemplate the visual in front of them for a bit. When Bucky’s footsteps sound behind them and he eventually appears on the other side of Steve, the blond still doesn’t remove his hand.
He doesn’t really want him to move it, to be completely honest. Sam likes it there. Perhaps he could touch it with his own. But that’d be weird, right?
A gruff mumble reaches him with its own lieu of a greeting, “Happy birthday.”
Sam finds himself blinking in surprise; slowly, twice.
Ah, well. Steve must’ve told him.
*
They’re not doing any odd jobs today; missions are there when they need to keep busy, and Nat’s an expert on undercover work. Rather the goal for the day is finding a new hideout for a night or two and stocking up on supplies. Still undercover work, kind of.
This is why they’re heading into the main street in sunglasses, caps and hoodies, keeping their heads low, weapons down and Bucky’s instinct to cover his arm sticks with him, clearly.
“Two hours,” Natasha told them, “We can’t afford to risk anymore. Meet back at the ship.”
They all know the plan, because it’s the same plan, time after time, day after day, yet they repeat it like a mantra. Soon enough, they’re split into teams, the brunette and blonde heading for the pharmacy while he and Steve look over the grocery store aisles.
Sam’s planning to call Sarah; hopefully catch her when she’s home from work, before going to bed, otherwise he wouldn’t know when he’d be able to get a hold of her again. Might be weeks. Going by the sugary cereals reminds him a bit too much of his nephews, in fact, he has to look straight ahead and keep going. He feels Steve’s eyes on his neck.
Speaking of Steve, once they’re in the queue, Sam feels a familiar hand going for his pocket and it certainly isn’t his own.
The blond doesn’t speak a word. He wants to ask, but his friend puts all his focus on paying with his only free hand, and a strange sense of calm comes over Sam, for some reason he can’t begin to explain. This birthday is stranger than he expected it to be.
And the moment disappears again before he knows it; like in the morning, on the ship.
Steve had to let go eventually. Sam finds himself wishing he didn’t.
Even stranger, the blond has an errand to run, he says. Alone.
“You sure?” he hesitates with the question, because surely if Steve wanted him to know he would say, but keeping secrets is sort of out of character for his friend, “We’re meeting Bucky and Nat halfway. We’ll watch your back.”
Steve shakes his head firmly, “I’ll catch up to you, won’t be long.”
He still isn’t saying exactly where he’s going. It worries Sam, just a little bit. Not exactly a fan of letting his best friend out of sight.
But when the blond’s set on a decision, there’s no way anyone can tell him otherwise. “Okay,” Sam decides, “Call me if you need me.”
“Always.”
In response to his explanation of Steve’s absence, he gets a simple tilt of Natasha’s head and Bucky’s face twitching so quickly he’d miss it if they weren’t huddled so close together. The woman doesn’t exactly look happy about it. The taller man, meanwhile, he has the face that Sam knows is his worrying face; he just recognizes it so instantly it scares him a little.
At least his other friends are behaving normally; well, not Bucky, because he’s been considering too many reasons why the ex-Winter Soldier would possibly know about his birthday, and all of them are logical. But it still makes him feel some sort of way. Like when Steve smiles at him.
It takes Sam a moment to register Natasha speaking because he’s stuck inside his head about the two other men, but, “Happy birthday, by the way,” she tells him, a crooked smile and hands in her pockets.
“Thanks, Romanova. Still hate birthdays?”
“Absolutely,” she huffs, “Mostly my own, however. Must be a disappointing one today, though, huh?”
Sam just has to move his eyes to Bucky for a second, who abandoned the bench for the flea market on the other side of the road. He has no idea why.
He wonders if his friend notices. He shrugs in response, “Could be better. I need to talk to my sister.”
Her nod is short, and her smile doesn’t reach her eyes. It’s these types of situations where he knows better than to ask.
And while the brunette’s crossing the street back to them again, the blond also reappears behind them, which is clear by him patting Sam’s shoulder. He’s never been this touchy before. Has he?
What’s the most surprising isn’t that though, rather, it’s when Natasha eagerly continues on, right in the heels of Bucky, and Steve matches his own pace behind them. Then, he hands Sam a white box.
He doesn’t understand. His best friend looks at him expectantly, until it seemingly dawns upon that Sam needs an explanation.
“It’s for you,” he says, smile evident in his voice, no matter how hard he tries to whisper.
“For me?” he asks, because the gesture confuses him beyond words, “I- why?”
Well, this is a birthday present, isn’t it? It can’t be, though. Steve really shouldn’t. It’d be too much trouble to do when they’re literally running for their lives, and the guilt is already showing its ugly head inside his mind.
It’s Steve’s turn to look confused, “For your birthday.”
Right. Right, okay.
“You didn’t have to.”
His friend slows down his pace a bit, “I know.”
“But you still…” Sam doesn’t really know where he’s going with that sentence, to be honest. That feeling in his gut wishes Steve’s hand was touching his waist again. He could easily understand. Explain it away, act like it’s not making him feel certain things and think certain thoughts and making him overthink the blond’s eyes staring back at him behind the shades.
“I wanted to, Sam,” Steve tells him, speeding up again, they almost lost sight of their friends for a second there, “You deserve it. Well, you deserve more, but I- we can’t.”
It’s as if his heart does a somersault, runs a marathon and wrings itself inside out, all at the same time.
Oh.
Sam decides to look at him in question, and his friend somehow knows what he’s saying, “Open it.”
So he does. Inside, he finds a birthday cake. Or rather an oreo ice cream cake. One similar to the one he’s gotten for basically all the birthdays he can remember, all the way back to his childhood. It’s a tradition.
When exactly did he tell Steve about that? He must have, sometime, a long time ago, but he can’t recall when.
And because he’s getting a bit too overwhelmed by this gift, and this day that’s barely even started, he just looks at the cake in shock and tries for the life of himself to look casual about it. He also tries extremely hard to read his friend’s face, but it’s nearly impossible.
“My favorite,” is all Sam can come up with. He feels like a bit of an idiot. But also, he feels like someone needs to pinch his side. And he feels a lot like flying, no wings required.
“I know.”
*
Steve is doing things to him, and he probably doesn’t even realise.
He wouldn’t expect anything else, he’s a good friend, he’s Sam's  best  friend, yet the blond putting his hand in his pocket again and the box holding that cake is making his head spin.
He has to stop thinking about it too much. Sam just really needs to talk to Sarah.
Getting through the crowds of people, avoiding any possible surveillance cameras and eyeing suspicious suited men until they realise they’re just accountants or lawyers or bankers, it’s quite some work, but they make it back to the secluded woods where the Quinjet’s waiting - thank heavens for cloaking technology, huh?
He eyes his wristwatch, now might be the best time to try reaching his little sister. There’s coverage, too, it seems.
This is why Sam slows down and eventually stops in front of the entrance, the three of them all giving him a variation of confused looks until he holds up the burner phone as explanation. He hopes they’ll understand. They nod, so most likely.
“Don’t be long, Sam,” the woman warns him, but there’s still a hint of smile there. He returns it with a bit of relief.
The tone rings three times before someone answers. Sam is close to giving up until the sound shakes, and his sister’s voice comes through the speaker and washes over him with the greatest relief he’s felt in a long time, “Sammy?”
He can’t help the grin growing on his face. “Yeah, it’s me.”
Sarah’s giggles remind him of home. And God, does he want to see them again so badly.
He doesn’t regret standing by Steve, but being so far from the safety he knows is terrifying, sometimes. And lonely.
“You’re still causing trouble?” she asks, and yeah, she can always get a laugh out of him, no matter the situation, no matter how long they've been apart. It’s part of their connection, he guesses.
Sam also rolls his eyes, which she can’t see, of course, she’d only tease him more, “Trying to stay out of it, more like.”
His little sister sighs, “Happy birthday. I miss you.”
The relief and nostalgic happiness switches into something a bit more melancholic, the nostalgia frighteningly more heartbreaking. They usually avoid talking about, well, Sam’s current situation, whenever they communicate. It took him a long time of secrecy before breaking the news to his nephews, revealing why he couldn’t visit them at the moment.
“I miss you too,” Sam tells her, hoping his sincerity can be heard over the phone, “I wish I could see you.”
“Me too.”
Speaking of his nephews, it’s not long into their phone calls before some muffled voices in the background make themselves known, and Sarah laughs softly again, some movement can be heard, “It’s your uncle on the phone.”
He’s pretty sure she put him on speaker, because next thing he knows AJ is yelling into his ear, “Uncle Sam! Uncle Sam!?”
Sam bites his lip. He hasn’t got much time before they need to leave, and if he returns to the ship with tears in his eyes Steve will probably look at him with his big knowing eyes and say this is all his fault. He can’t have his best friend blaming himself this much, not right now, anyway.
Because, well, yeah, they’re on the run because of the Accords. He’d never sign that for the life of him regardless of Steve, but Sam also trusts the blond with his life honestly. Since they met Steve’s been by his side, unwavering, and he intends to do the same for him.
And he doesn’t know Bucky… he still doesn’t. He’d like to. But if Steve is willing to go this far for his friend, he’s just as willing.
He shakes the thoughts of his two friends out of his head, for now, sniffles and laughs through the tears threatening to escape his eyes, “I’m here, buddy.”
“Uncle Sam, are you crying?” Cass’ voice comes through this time, he really can’t hide anything from them, can he? “You shouldn’t be sad on your birthday. You’re beating up bad guys, right?!”
Sarah’s laugh overlaps with his own, “Not exactly.”
“Oh, all the time,” he retaliates, “Your mother’s lying to you, boys.”
His sister’s fake gasp sets him back to the lemonade stand they set up together when they were kids, Sam was certain he remembered their mom’s recipe right, and Sarah didn’t talk to him the whole day when he doubted her version. Of course neither of them were right, anyway.
He feels like a broken record inside his head, but the only thing he wishes for is to see her face. Kiss her nose because she found it so embarrassing, but she’s grown fond of it, he can just tell.
So Sam does try to narrate the odd jobs they’ve been doing, making it as dramatic as possible and leaving out all the existential fear and doubt and his tired bones repeating the same protocols over and over. The boys love every second of it.
He knows his sister is shaking her head at him when AJ excitedly interrupts his story of his first visit to Wakanda, “I could be a hero too, right? Right!?” “You can be anything you want,” he tells him, the tears welling up again. In the far corner of his eye he spots Nat returning to the walkway of the Quinjet, leaning against the opening expectantly. She can wait for a minute, he decides.
“Mom! Mom! Uncle Sam said I can be just like him!”
“You can, sweetheart, but that’s for when you’re older, okay?” Sarah’s voice is a bit quieter now, and his nephews both come through with some sad sounding noises, “Your uncle’s job can be- uh, dangerous.”
He nods. That’s an understatement. Of course, none of them can see this, he realises, once again looking towards his friend who’s waiting for him, looking up in the sky in search of who knows what. Redwing’s still checking the perimeter, so they should be safe for now. The blonde doesn’t exactly trust the drone, as she’s told him on many, many occasions, but she’ll warm up to him.
“Your mom’s right,” Sam finally answers, and although he’s not sure he fully believes it himself, he’ll make the best attempt he can to ease his little sister’s worries. God knows how much she’s got to deal with back home, “I’ll be careful, though. I gotta come back and check on you guys.”
There’s silence for a moment. Then, “You better.”
Sam smiles. He can hear the tears in her voice, too, “I promise. I intend to keep my promises.”
His sister sighs, she’s not agreeing or disagreeing or… anything, but she sounds a little more calm. A little. He’s trying, but he knows he’s giving himself away, tripping in place and laughing more nervously than anything else.
“I know you don’t have much time, Sam. Just promise me you’re taking care of yourself, okay?” “Always-”
“Did you have any cake, Uncle Sam?” AJ’s voice resurfaces once again, and he laughs at the interruption, “We always get cake for you… we want to.”
The disappointment is clear as day, and very much breaking his heart into pieces that he doesn’t know how to pick up or where to keep. Sam clears his throat instead, and looks toward his blonde friend once again, who gives him a crooked smile and shrugs one shoulder.
They should go soon. Nat’s looking at her watch, but she’s not rushing him, though.
“I know you do, buddy. We can have all the cake we want when I come to visit you, right?” he reassures his nephew, who giggles with his brother in excitement, before his sister’s half-joking disapproval, “I wouldn’t say  all the cake, but we’ll see about it.”
He looks away from his friend on the Quinjet, looks at his watch, sees Redwing descending to the ground. Time’s up. 
But for some reason, Sam can’t say goodbye before he finds a question popping up in his mind, one that’s been all there all day and confused him to no end.  “Sarah?” he asks, she hums in response, “I have to go but I need to ask, does it- uhm… does it mean something if Steve got me a birthday cake?”
A moment of silence again, somehow seeming agonizingly longer than before. “I don’t understand what you’re asking, Sammy, sorry.” He thinks his sister might be frowning in question, but it’s hard to tell. She just sounds as confused as he’s feeling.
“I mean… I don't know. He remembered my favorite cake. And he went on this secret trip to get it?” 
Sam laughs at himself, and the thoughts of his friend come back again. The friend he’s known for a long time now, the one who held his hand as they landed in Wakanda, something that he didn’t fully process then because of how the airsickness clogged his ears and made him feel like vomiting, but it’s all he can think back to, now.
He continues, “I just don’t understand why he’d go to so much trouble for me. One wrong move, a wrong person and he could’ve-”, of course, he abruptly pauses, remembering his young nephews still on the line, backtracking, “... you know.”
Sam doesn’t know how long he waits for his little sister’s answer, and he doesn’t know what he’s expecting either. She can’t exactly look into Steve’s head, and they’ve never met, anyway. Maybe she’ll tell him to stop worrying and focus on not getting arrested, or worse.
And yet, Sarah replies with, “You’re worth that risk.”
He furrows his brows, “Sorry?”
“You’re worth that risk and more, Sam. To me,” she says, voice confident and filled with the peace of the early mornings he misses so much, “And to him too, I bet.”
Huh. Sam cannot for the life of him think of a response to that.
“You still with me?”
He shakes his head at himself, nods at Natasha, who nods in response and retreats into the ship. “Hm? Yeah, yeah. I am.”
Sarah laughs at him, which is a bit rude, but he doesn’t mind. He’d like to listen to it all day and every day, if he could. In fact, he has to remind himself to make her laugh as much as he can when he sees them again.
He promised to get back to them. Sam Wilson keeps his promises.
“I love you,” his sister says, which is better than saying goodbye. Until next time, more like. See you soon, very, very soon.
It’s only then he feels like he can breathe again, “Love you too.”
*
See, being on the run in a Quinjet is much, much easier than Steve’s tragically tiny car - not only due to the advantage of having space and proper beds and not having to check in on questionable locations every three days under a new fake name, but also, it has a freezer.
Useful when your best friend decides to get you an ice cream birthday cake.
Sam actually finds it already placed in the freezer, one that’s heavily organized, all thanks to Nat. When he spots the box, he finds himself wondering if their two companions noticed it. If so, they aren’t addressing it.
A silence has settled over the ship now; it’s midday, sky’s clear save for the grey clouds lurking in the distance, and Steve’s taken over the rear so Natasha can take a break. They do it in shifts, because more often than not they have to keep on the move at night, as well.
And while their friend has resided to her bed and headphones, Sam lingers in the kitchen area, interconnected with the main cockpit. 
The blond’s back is turned to him. He always taps his foot when he’s concentrating on something, and he’s put on the radio. Marvin Gaye, of course. Sam can’t help smiling to himself.
Steve’s hair has grown ridiculously long now- well, so has his own, not exactly much access to hairdressers at the moment. They could both match Bucky’s hairdo soon, he bets.
Speaking of the long haired man, this is exactly who soon joins him, almost sneaking up on him, his footsteps barely making a sound. Sam was a bit in his own world anyway, he’ll admit.
When he appears on his side, he stands for a moment and moves his gaze in the same direction as his own. Sam wonders if he should make conversation, but the moment’s gone in the blink of an eye when Bucky grabs a beer from the fridge and then comes to learn against the counter like himself.
It’s a rare kind of quiet on the ship.
It feels almost… relaxed. Calm unlike those many strained silences after almost getting recognized in public or nights when Sam finds himself unable to sleep, and somehow, a strange sense of knowing that all his friends are kept awake as well. Steve snores, so the lack of the sound is a giveaway, and Nat is restless, moving around the ship when she thinks the men don’t hear her.
Bucky’s bed is in his line of vision, however, so he knows the longer haired man rarely sleeps these days. At least, when he’s up at night, he’s noticed his friend staring at the ceiling, bedsheet abandoned at his feet and almost looking like he’s holding his breath.
It’s those nights Sam is eternally grateful for the locket his sister gave him; made sure to put her and his nephews on one side, their parents on the other. He can’t explain how, but having them close to his heart when they’re running errands, the anxiety that creeps up on him lessens, a little bit.
And Riley’s army tags. He left their pictures together back at the house, he bitterly remembers, and prays to all the higher powers out there that the agents sent after them haven’t touched that box. That it’s still on the top shelf of his closet, containing the polaroids and every drawing Cass has made him, and his mother’s favorite scarf.
Sam smiles to himself at the memory. She knitted him a million scarves and socks and hats, but that one, it keeps him connected to her. Like, he can put it under his pillow and close his eyes and he can almost see her and her warm eyes and hear her sing him and Sarah to sleep.
Suddenly, his thoughts are interrupted, by the man next to him poking his side gently.
“I got you something,” Bucky tells him, his demeanor neutral, lips showing the slightest hint of a smile that no one would notice. Sam does, though. He does the same when they play chess to pass the time; secretive, trying his hardest to hide his enjoyment of the game.
He blinks at his friend, “Huh?”
The brunette shrugs, “For your birthday. It’s not much, but…”
“I…” Sam doesn’t even know what to say, one minute focused on Steve’s gift and now another gift for him to process, neither of which he expected at all, “Bucky, you didn’t have to get me anything.”
Bucky shrugs again. “Don’t care. I wanted you to have something.”
Okay. His friend’s face doesn’t change a bit, but the moment changes, and it’s much like the ship and everything else around them vanishes into thin air. It’s just the man next to him and his stoic face and messed up hair.
“Is that okay?” he asks him, and Sam can’t do anything else than nod. He has to take a deep breath, for some reason, as if his lungs grew three sizes. And it feels like someone lit fire sparklers inside his chest.
“Yeah. Yeah, of course it’s okay. I’m just surprised, is all.”
“Good,” his friend replies quickly, before turning his back to him and walking across the room.
He returns not long after, with a familiar white box in his hands, and offers it to Sam before grabbing the beer can again. Leaning back, taking a way bigger gulp than necessary, eyes seemingly avoiding to look him in the eyes.
He really can’t stop looking at Bucky, though. So he opens the box instead, and finds just how familiar it is. Inside it, an ice cream cake. His favorite. Also, the exact same as the one Steve got him just hours earlier.
This is why Sam looks up at the blond’s still turned back for a moment. He’s whistling to the tune of the music.
Then Sam looks back at Bucky, who still isn’t looking at him, and bites his lip. He finds himself clutching the box tightly, fearing it’s a dream that’ll disappear if he startles awake, but none of it fades away and instead he’s stuck in place because… so, not only did his two friends get him cake.
They got him the same cake. Two of them.
His only guess is that they didn’t plan or… coordinate anything, because it’s not like they had much time in town. They made sure to get something there. For him.
Sam can’t quite contain the grin growing on his face.
And, well, his friend is still avoiding looking at him, so he nudges him with his elbow and hopes his, “Thank you,” doesn’t sound too hoarse or low or nervous even though his voice breaks in the middle. He wishes he could call Sarah again, and tell the boys he’s gotten two cakes this year. They’d be ecstatic. And he could forget his confusion for a bit.
Bucky shrugs once again. “It’s the least I could do.”
*
Hours pass by until the evening announces its presence, and Sam and his friends are each left to their own devices; Steve’s steering while Natasha’s navigating the map, and while he himself was searching for a podcast to shut the world out for a minute he rather just ends up listening to the rain pattering down around them.
One birthday out of the ordinary, that’s for sure. It’s around ten before he sees Bucky again, but he does appear, with a new can of beer and sits on the far end of his bed. His hair’s still damp from the shower, tied up in a bun.
Sam quite likes it when he does that; well, he likes his long hair, it looks like it would be soft. He doesn’t know how he knows that, but… he just knows. 
But he’s always blowing strands of hair away from his face, and this way, you can see all his features, every little thing you don’t immediately notice, every tiny waver on his lips and every glint in his eye.
The glint in said eyes appears when they play chess, of course. When Steve shows him one of his drawings, or when he huffs to himself over the book he acquired on the last flea market he found, multiple states over.
Thing is, it was definitely in his eyes when he handed Sam that box. Maybe that’s why he avoided looking at him after the fact.
And well, it’s got Sam’s heart in a twist. This whole day’s got his heart in a twist, really.
Because he misses his little sister and his nephews and his parents. And Riley’s tags against his chest are pressing too fucking hard. 
And Steve and Bucky, they… they’re making him feel… how Riley made him feel. Breathless. Light as a feather. Like he could just look at them and everything would be okay despite everything being very, very much not okay these days. They’re just- they’re like that. 
Oh, this is bad. This is really, really bad.
Sam can’t be in love with his best friend. Or his best friend’s friend. Or… both?
He can’t be in love, period. Especially not with his partners in crime, so to speak. Yet, he can’t stop thinking about Steve’s smile and Bucky shrugging like it didn’t matter, but it mattered. It did to Sam. It does.
He shakes his head at himself and wonders if Sarah would do the same. Can you be in love with two people at the same time? It feels very real, but he doesn’t know. Maybe it just overwhelmed him. Maybe his birthday this year makes no sense, which he already knew, but regardless. Maybe they were just being good friends, or maybe they remind him of Riley too much, or maybe those feelings have been there all along and Sam’s been closing them off for too long.
Too many maybes. Way too many.
And apparently, Sam ponders over this for far too long, because the grey skies outside have turned significantly darker and Bucky has disappeared from his bed and instead sits down on his own. He already feels his heart jump into his throat.
“Hey,” the man says, a curious sort of look in his eyes, like he’s trying to read Sam’s mind. He can’t help returning the smile he’s given, instantly feeling at ease in the other man’s company. Steve’s still whistling along to the mixtapes in the cockpit, he can’t quite stop thinking about it, but that seems incredibly far away right now.
“Hey,” he answers. Sam’s trying to read the brunette, but he’s not sure how. Earlier, he grabbed a piece of each cake his friends gave him, and it’s an outstanding cake, almost as good as the one from his childhood, but he really couldn’t stop thinking about what Sarah told him over the phone.  You’re worth that risk . “Bucky, can I ask you something?”
He nods. “How do you know it’s my birthday?”
“Hm?”
“I mean,” Sam’s lips feel dry as he speaks, “Did Steve tell you? I just don’t remember it coming up, so-”
“Not today.”
What… what exactly does that mean?
“I don’t understand.”
Bucky’s face morphs into an expression that seems like he’s thinking hard, trying hard to recall something from a long, long time ago. And that turns out to be almost true, “When you visited me in Wakanda for the first time. It was a month before your birthday.”
That is also true. Sam wanted to go back home, trying to think of ways both he and Steve could hide out there but ultimately deemed it too dangerous. He’d never be able to live with himself if he put his sister and nephews in danger. He just couldn't. 
“...Right.”
“You talked about Sarah,” he remembers, and the smile on his face grows a little bigger, “I had a sister, too. Older. You said she worries about you a lot. That her laugh is the best thing you know, that she teases you all the time, but you deserve it most of the time, too. Steve said you guys were talking about going fishing when all this is over, that your parents got a boat, because of your family business, uh-”
“Wilson Family Seafood,” Sam blurts out, because he has no idea what else to say.
“That’s it,” the brunette chuckles low, “I’ve always wanted to try seafood. Never did. Stevie won’t because he’s a coward. But he really wanted to meet your family. I get it, they sound lovely.”
So. Sam is rather speechless. All he’s feeling is the heat rising in his cheeks and hearing the rain growing louder. Bucky’s just sitting there with this big smile on his face and he wants to look inside his head and figure out why he’s doing this to him.
“You… you remembered all that?”
The man shrugs. “I did.”
“We weren’t- we barely knew each other, then. We fought all the time before Shuri treated you,” Sam points out.
“I know.”
“But you remembered my birthday, and my family, and-”
“You had orange juice in the morning,” he interrupts, “Steve hates orange juice. It made you laugh, how much he hates it, it’s a whole thing. Your eyes get all crinkled in the corners when you laugh like that, you could barely breathe. You looked really happy and… carefree. I wished you didn’t leave, that first time. I wanted you to stay.”
Oh.  Oh.
“Bucky,” he tries, taking a breath. Sam gets this overwhelming urge to not say anything, and instead lean over and close the space between them. Is he overthinking this? “Why did you get me that cake? And why-  how  do you remember all of this? I wanted to check on you while Steve was undercover but I wasn’t sure if you trusted me enough, without him.”
The man next to him frowns, “It was for your birthday, Sam, I told you.”
“Yeah, but-”
“And I like looking at you.”
Sam thinks his brain might short circuit. He blinks in pure shock at the words, “What?”
“The sound of your voice is... calming. Beautiful. You know, I only acted like an asshole to get you to talk to me. I wanted you to trust me,” Bucky licks his lips, and although it seems like he wants to say more, he opens and closes his mouth within a few seconds.
The sparklers in his chest are nearly turning into fireworks, and Sam honestly doesn’t know how to hold them down. He doesn’t really want to. But he also doesn’t know if Bucky is… if he’s communicating the same feelings as the ones blooming inside himself.
He should ask. But the man next to him is blinking with his long lashes and a shy smile that makes Sam’s words fail him, and instead he feels compelled to ask something slightly different, “What- what are you saying? I mean what are you thinking about?”
They’ve also been inching closer to each other. And the sound of the rain has faded in his ears, because all he’s hearing is his own breathing mixed in with Bucky’s.
Sam can’t really breathe, maybe because he’s a little nervous that his reading of his friend is purely wishful thinking. It’s only been one day, but he’s fallen in love on his birthday, he doesn’t doubt it anymore, at all. Twice. At the same time, it feels like he’s finally breathing after holding his breath for over a year.
The brunette’s smile turns into a smirk that should probably annoy him, but it doesn’t. Just makes his heart beat faster.
“I’m thinking about kissing you,” Bucky says bluntly.
Oh, Sarah would be thrilled to hear this. But first things first, Sam thinks he might be going crazy.
But he’s not,  you’re not . He hasn’t felt that swooping feeling in his gut since Riley, and… God. It just feels right, and he’d curse himself for never noticing this till now. But he’s too distracted by his friend’s statement, and how the fireworks in his chest are spreading to his entire body when he looks at Bucky’s face.
Sam’s already moving closer, “You want to kiss me?”
The other man huffs, “Pretty much. If you’d like that, that is.”
And well, he doesn’t need much time to think about that preposition, “I think I’d like that, yeah.”
“I was hoping you’d say that.”
They’re already practically nose to nose, it's been a long time since he’s rushed to act on something as fast as this, and he doesn’t even need to rush, because Bucky’s lips are on his before he knows it, and they’re chapped and slightly desperate but it’s just… perfect. Those fireworks, Sam’s seeing them under his eyelids and feeling them in his fingertips and it’s the best feeling he’s ever had, quite frankly.
His friend’s hand landing on his thigh is pretty good, too. Sam pulls back to catch his breath, and he feels lightheaded, all the way up in the clouds. Bucky frowns and pulls him back.
They kiss slowly, putting thousands of thoughts into every single one, and now, he can read the brunette like an open book. They fall into the same pace so, so easily. The hand on his thigh doesn’t move, just traces circles with his thumb, until it freezes for a second when Sam decides to hold it. His friend grins and their teeth clash, but neither of them care much.
It feels like forever and yet nowhere near enough time when they finally pull apart, and his companion runs his tongue over his bottom lip. Sam doesn’t want to let go of his hand. Bucky isn’t moving, either.
Now it’s definitely harder for Sam to breathe, but for a very different reason. He thinks it’s stopped raining outside. The brunette tilts his head and stares at him, not intensely, but a gaze that makes the fireworks reduce to a soft, everburning ember. He wishes he wasn’t lost for words. It all just makes sense.
“What are you doing?” Sam blurts out, eyes not leaving his friend’s. He’d like to keep kissing him, but he also craves a lot more sleep than last night. He was so very wrong about his birthday being just another day, this year.
Bucky’s smile isn’t shy anymore, “Looking at you.”
*
When Sam wakes the morning after his birthday, to the same walls of the Quinjet and the same hum of the engine and the same thin mattress, he feels like everything’s changed.
Steve’s still taking the helm and Natasha’s still cooking with her headphones on, but Bucky is giving him a sly smile over his coffee, which just makes him miss his lips. Too much.
He thinks the fireworks are changing into butterflies, sort of; he feels even lighter than yesterday, and he also fell asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow. The first thing when he opened his eyes being his friend messing up his hair definitely also contributed to the warmth still spreading in Sam’s body.
It does hit him, did their two companions see them? Realise what happened? They aren’t acknowledging it if they did, and the brunette’s throwing secretive glances at him every so often, which just makes Sam full out blush. Bucky smirks every time.
So, yeah, he’s pretty much floating on pink skies this morning, and his little sister would gag at his cheesiness, but he doesn’t care in the least. 
He finds himself touching Riley’s tags with his ring finger, through his t-shirt. The metal’s cold, not burning itself into his chest anymore, like it did yesterday morning.
The bliss Sam’s feeling does hit a slight halt, though, when he opens the freezer to his two not yet eaten cakes. Steve.
It’s suddenly like his brain’s going in hyperspeed again, and the thoughts of the blond man echoes in him from the day before. And  fuck . That ‘in love with two people at the same time’ thing? It might be true. At least, he feels it glaring at the back of his neck, begging him to not ignore it.
Maybe his birthday was a little, uh, complicated after all. Still sort of is. Sam can’t stop thinking of the brunette’s breath on his lips and fingers caressing his thigh, but he certainly cannot stop thinking of his best friend’s hopeful eyes as he gave him that cake either, the offended look when he told him he didn’t have to, as if not getting him a birthday present was equal to a criminal offense for the blond.
Just as he thought he had something worked out in the middle of this mess, his two friends are haunting his mind. Dammit.
Sam’s unsure if he should talk to Steve about it, if he should tell him and Natasha about the kiss or not, but coincidentally, the blonde woman decides to do a pit stop. Eerily similar to his friend yesterday, she doesn’t really tell them much about where she’s going, but promises she’ll be back in less than two hours. What the hell, they’re hidden in the thick woods, might as well go for a walk and attempt to clear his head when the opportunity hits.
Bucky brushes his hand with his own as they exit the ship, but the man also rushes to the nearest town (Sam’s got a feeling he’s looking for a bookstore) and so that leaves him with the blond himself.
Steve’s looking with the greatest interest at a squirrel collecting its food when he smiles at him, “Wanna join me for a walk?”
His friend looks up with a smile as big as the sun, nodding, “Sure.”
On the walk, they’re getting creative, let’s say. There’s lots of hiking paths in here, not many people, but they remember caps and sunglasses just to be on the safe side. Generally trying to steer in circles around the paths, circulating the ship, not getting farther away than necessary.
Steve whistles to himself,  American Pie , Sam recognizes it from Natasha in an instant. And well, that takes him back to his friend humming to Marvin Gaye just yesterday evening, while Bucky kissed him.
They both gave him the same cake. Wait, wait- why is Sam only thinking about that, really, now? Did they plan it?
Doesn’t seem like it, though, considering they both were rather secretive about it. So they didn’t talk at all about it, and it was just an odd coincidence? He knows now that Steve didn’t have to tell Bucky it was his birthday, because the man remembered from that very first visit, and that still makes Sam a little breathless, to be honest.
But this prompts him to voice his thought stream out loud, “Steve?”
“Hm?”
Their arms brush as they walk, comfortingly close, but still… too far away. Perfect distance for friends, he thinks. But… his heart is obviously telling him otherwise. He can almost feel it getting ready for another marathon.
“The cake you got me,” Sam hopes he isn’t stumbling over his words, recalling Sarah’s reassuring statement within his mind.  You’re worth that risk , “Did you and Bucky plan it together?”
He didn’t have much of an idea on how to ask otherwise, but he regrets the question when the blond’s face screws up in confusion. “What do you mean?”
His suspicion was correct, it seems. Coincidence. “Uhm, well… I mean, why didn’t you guys just get me one cake together? I love them both, don’t get me wrong, two cakes is  way more than I could ask for in our situation-”
“Buck got you cake, too?”
Steve looks rather shocked. He isn’t frowning, per say, but his brows are furrowed as he tries to process the information, and he slows his pace down until he comes to a full stop, back near the ship. Oh god, did Sam just do something very stupid?
“He did,” he replies, smiling hesitantly still, and his friend automatically smiles back, which makes it easier for him to carry on, “I- sorry. I found it strange that you both got me one and thought you must’ve talked about it. But Bucky didn’t say anything about yours either, so I mean…”
Once again, Sam feels his words falter. He also definitely knows he’s blushing again, hard, cause the warmth is rushing through, but the nerves are getting to him, too.
“I’m glad he bought you one, too,” his best friend decides, his face so earnest and honest and kind, it makes him want to scream, “You deserve more than one. And so much more. I wish we could’ve celebrated properly. I know you want to go home, and I still want to meet your sister, you know.”
He sighs heavily, and Sam truly can’t hide his fondness.
“I think she’d love you,” he tells Steve, because he knows it’s true. Then, he’s unsure if he should continue the sentence. Sam’s thinking of Bucky and his stupidly perfect hair. Then he looks at Steve and his calloused hands, and the words hit him like a train before he can stop it coming out of his mouth, “Not as much as I do, maybe.”
There it is. There wasn’t really much denying, was there?
Sam can practically already feel his heart pounding against his ribcage, and the butterflies down in his gut are bashing in the rush of adrenaline and fluttering their wings way, way too fast for him to keep up.
His best friend kicks around a couple of pinecones on the ground before the statement hits him, then, he looks up again, wide-eyed and in an endearing state of total confusion.
“You… you love me?” Steve asks, bafflement evident in his tone.
Sam bites his lip. “Can I ask you something? Will you be honest with me?”
His friend nods immediately, confusion vanishing for a moment, “Always, Sam.”
He needs to take another deep breath. Here goes nothing.
“Do you… do you think it’s possible to be in love with two people- or, more than one person? At the same time?”
To Sam’s greatest surprise both yesterday and today, the man in front of him takes barely a second to respond, no time to think it through, no signs of doubt, “Of course. I love Bucky, but I loved Peggy, too. I love Sharon. And I love you.”
Steve seems incredibly shocked at his own confession, just as much as Sam’s himself. Those butterflies must be on a fucking rollercoaster or something, at this point. 
Strangely, this lifts the nerves within him so easily, just like yesterday. His breath still feels stuck in his throat, but holy shit, he just can’t stop himself from smiling. His cheeks must be burning hot.
The blond looks a bit confused again as Sam chuckles at himself. He has no idea what he’s doing right now, but the direction it’s going- once again, it just seems right. Feels right. He wants to reach out for his best friend’s hand, but waits, “I’m glad I’m not the only one. I just realised- well, I think I might’ve been in love with both of you for a while, but not realised it until yesterday. You and Bucky.”
Steve’s eyes are shimmering with hope, and so he decides to hell with it, he takes his friend’s hand. And to his precious luck, the blond squeezes his hand back, thumb tracing slow circles in his palm.
“You’re serious?” the blond asks, laughing in disbelief.
“I am.”
“ Holy shit. ”
Sam matches his friend’s laugh, and the forest almost bends to their conversation, wind softening and the trees surrounding them like a cocoon, almost. Reminds him of those fairytales his little sister loved so much, that she insisted on him reading for her because he liked making weird voices and changing the tale, much to her annoyance.
The silence between them is the most lovely thing, just like the one between him and Bucky yesterday, full of expectation but zero tension.
Steve clears his throat, “Sammy, I- sorry, you're just the best person I know, this is too good to be true. I didn’t know if you felt the same… I’m not good at that. Uhm, hinting. Or flirting, I guess. I don’t know what to say.”
His best friend is blushing as much as himself. Naturally, there’s only one thing Sam can think about, “Then come here and kiss me.”
The blond doesn’t need to be told twice, and he loves him even more for it. And Steve’s lips are softer than Bucky’s, but that’s in no way… better, or, like. It’s different. But it’s the same fireworks popping up in the dark under his eyelids again, and that’s a sign.
He’s in love with his two best friends. And they love Sam back. And his racing heart hums softly, like it’s breathing out as much as he is, a calm from all the way back home settling upon him. His friend hums against his lips and moves his hand to the hair at the nape of his neck, gently pulling. It gives him a sort of tingling feeling in all his limbs, to be honest.
They do have to pull apart when the sound of twigs crackling on the ground is heard, they have to stay alert, after all, even it could very well be another squirrel. Instead, it’s Bucky, carrying a book under his arm.
He’s giving them that sly smile again, “You’ve gotten smoother than the old days, Rogers.”
Steve blushes profusely. Sam finds himself laughing again, his nerves long gone, and touches his cheek. His friend clears his throat a little more, “You got the same idea as me, Buck. With the cake.”
The brunette joins them in the clearing, lifting a brow in question, “You mean  my  idea?”
“Shut up!”
“No, no, you learned from me punk, I’m proud of you,” Bucky laughs, and Steve’s about to slap his arm, if their friend didn’t grab the blond’s hand mid-air, “You’re an asshole.”
Bucky looks at Sam in question, and he answers, “He’s not completely wrong.”
His friend shrugs. “You both love me, though.”
“I do,” he nods, and Steve chimes in with, “Sadly, yes.”
Of course, their companion grins like an idiot, “Now we got that settled, will you kiss me again, Sammy?”
Sam is so fucking lovestruck right now, he’s not scared to admit it. Steve’s hand is still on his neck and Bucky’s taking his hand, and it’s nothing less than perfect. Just like a happily ever after, although he has no idea where they’re going after this, but it only matters to him that they’re together, really. He thinks Sarah will love both of them. He hopes they’ll meet someday, at least. And AJ and Cass, they’d be thrilled, oh my god.
The blond interrupts as Sam’s already leaning in, “Hey! I want a second kiss too!”
He rolls his eyes fondly, “Of course, Stevie.”
Well, it’s almost perfect, until a fourth voice makes them all jump, “You lovebirds need a minute before we take off?”
Nat’s smirking, Steve looks embarrassed and Sam laughs, his air mixed with his two companions and the butterflies’ flutter making him warm and tingly, still. Bucky flips her off. Guess some things never change.
8 notes · View notes
fanartfunart · 4 years
Text
@sapony01​ commented on one of my Sides Swap posts: Can you explain their function and personality a bit better/explore them? Some are kinda obvious but some kinda confuse me
And, but of course! I’m totally open to it! (I’m mostly making another post for it because otherwise it’ll get absurdly long)
To summarize, the main idea is that they keep their personality and secondary traits they represent (Like Ego, Emotionality, ect), while further representing the Main Trait (like Anxiety, Creativity, ect)
The rest under the cut:
Anxiety
Tumblr media
Roman: His key representation of Anxiety would befall closer to overemphasizing bravery and ignoring problems, and of course, insecurities. Thus a focus on Dangers you can Fight, and avoiding things you can’t. A emphasis on the Knight theme as a representation of bravery. He’d use ego and theatricality as a cover- a ‘be weird before people can accuse you of being weird because then it’s on purpose’ type logic.
Patton: The type of Anxiety where you emotionally over extending yourself because you’re scared of social-emotional repercussions. Caring so much that there’s no time and energy to care for yourself. Also a good representation of the Dad-Friend override for Anxiety.
Logan: A representation of over-analyzing the world like an outsider, that emotional distance that, while you’re curious of all the things around you, you can’t help but focus on the bad. Avoidance becomes a key factor and everything is categorized as bad or good off of exaggerated ‘proof’.
Janus: Very self protective to the point that things outside the Comfort Zone are almost always negative and overwhelming. Sarcasm, brittleness, and lying as a way to avoid things outside the Comfort Zone.
Remus: Overthinking creating an Anxious reaction. Basically seeing things in the shadows and over-analyzing interactions. Essentially worries cropping up out of the idea of various terrible things you can think of possibly coming at you from the smallest of hints to it. Also Knight theme because why not.
Creativity 
Tumblr media
Logan: A more organized and analytic approach to creative works. Prone to being a literary critic. Draws from media to explain a point. As creativity would likely be the type of writer that hides details and metaphors in everything, focus on foreshadowing and the such.
Janus: Never lets anything be direct, people should be able to make their own conclusions about the meaning of the text. Probably thinks method acting is fun. The kind of actor/writer that easily shrugs on different types of characterizations that it makes other people dizzy seeing him switch between them.
Virgil: Your inner Emo Art Phase personified (everyone has at least one somewhere in there). Would prefer to be either a lesser known creator, or not let Thomas use his real name (thus Ghostwriter), because being Known is Awkward and his work can get too real, being known as a real person could detract from the art. Focus on art as an outlet for expressing negative feelings and stress relief.
Patton: Take your craft-happy relative who always hand-makes gifts and you’ve got Creativity Patton. Just wants to have fun and share the fun. Draws from positive emotional experiences for creativity because he wants to give everyone who sees said art a hug through said art. (Yes, his design is vaugely based off of Disney’s Pinocchio Geppetto aka Pinocchio’s dad.)
Remus: Take Remus as he is, and then take the ‘intrusiveness’ out of him. He basically has all the same horrifying ideas, but he doesn’t use them to make Thomas upset or anything, he’s just making stories.
Logic
Tumblr media
Patton: Sorta a relaxed logic, understands not everything can be solved with a clean logical solution and that emotions hold a important space in people’s actions. Is that little logical voice when you’re super mad going ‘you’re mad because this, this, and this, and this is probably an overreaction to what you’re expressing your anger to, but it’s still valid.’ Prone to emotional fallacies though.
Virgil: You know any super cool teacher/professor who teaches you what the book says and then closes the book and says ‘ok now guess what, they’re also wrong, and I’m probably wrong too’?? Virgil as logic. (also why I kinda gave him the ‘tired + university hoodie’ style) Emphasizes learning from various sources and never trusting any of them 100%. Doesn’t trust his own information either, and it makes him stressed.... but like, he’s always stressed anyway so it’s chill. 
Roman: Bounces from topic to topic to learn. Very curious and easily inspired- also easily distracted. The definition of what a liberal arts education should be doing- aka, connecting seemingly unrelated topics. An Encyclopedia of very specific information. But, once he’s got a set of information it’s hard to let go of it, which makes it hard to adjust to being told he’s wrong.
Janus: Emphasis on how information is always being adjusted, and people’s biases are always present in studies and interpretation. Focuses on debunking things. Also kinda makes it hard to 100% be sure of any information presented.
Remus: Enjoys abusing the ‘technicalities’ in things. A little hard to follow in terms of train of thought. Disturbing Facts are still facts.
Morality
Tumblr media
Virgil: Emphasis on sympathy and ‘do what you’d hope people would do for you’ moral arguments. Focus on social structure for the ground rules for moral behavior. That guy who’s constantly nice because he wished someone was nice to him, ya know? Hates the idea of being a bad person so much that it causes a lot of guilt and mistrust of the self.
Logan: Thinks of moral behavior as an equation of sorts. People do good things and that causes good things and that allows the social structure to work as it should, so do good things. Draws on philosophy and other social sciences to argue his points. Easy to readjust his thinking with proper reasoning.
Roman: Just wants people to be happy! And to be good! Emphasis on the reactions of others and how that effects your social/emotional well-being. Do good because it feels good kinda guy (he wants to be somebody’s Hero, ya know how it be).
Janus: Understands that morality is such a grey place that most anything can be seen as bad if you argue it enough. Places value on the self as someone deserving of feeling good as well, and bases moral values on what you as an individual wants to do. Also still kinda morally grey in general and probably shouldn’t always be listened to.
Remus: I Follow no Rules but My Own. Full rejection of social pressures. What precisely that means for his resulting moral standing is up to debate.
Deceit
Tumblr media
Logan: Woorsst lair because he’ll twist truth and facts into it and it’s hard to pick out what’s the lie. Very blunt about his role as deception and its benefits and drawbacks. Very good about remembering which lies were told when and to who. Not the kind to lie more than seen necessary.
Roman: Focus on lying as acting and getting to where you need to go in life. ‘Fake it til you make it’ is his motto and it also includes mental states. Makes it hard to be honest about feelings. Very much a ‘lying to yourself’ aspect.
Virgil: Lying to avoid perceived negative repercussions. Lying still bothers him- as lying can also cause negative reactions. Focus on lying in reaction to events, less so on lying to the self. Not every lie is especially necessary though, knee-jerk reactions and fear make it very easy to lie. Lies of omission being the most utilized.
Remus: The opposite to Roman’s ‘lying to yourself’. Lying to others just to see their reactions. Uses being ‘blatantly honest’ about taboo subjects to seem honest about other things.
Patton: Lying to spare people’s feelings and being perceived well. Focus on lying or omitting the truth to seem like everything’s awesome.
Intrusive Thots
Tumblr media
Patton: Makes emotional reactions overwhelmingly hard to gauge and control, results in terrifying thoughts and feelings with little control or filter. Gets stuck on ideas because of how hard he’s trying to push it away (yea know, like the white bear experiment).
Virgil: Thinks in problem solving, but the problems are of course, the thoughts of his own creation. Incessant about ‘solving’ the perceived problem.... not much else changes.
Logan: The Mad Scientist aesthetic is fun, what can I say? Takes facts and focuses on the scary parts, and then brings them back up on the slightest hint of relevance, and sometimes just Because. Some of it is curiosity taken into a frightening territory and gets overwhelming.
Janus: Emphasis on what happens if terrible things happened. Also likes using the ‘you’re gonna go to hell anyway just dive in with me’ argument. Occasionally pops up in a way that sounds almost nice, then turns horrifying very quickly.
Roman: Take Roman, make his ideas more Remus. He’s already Loud and Proud, just make him scarier, and a little more incessant and probably a little more arrogant for good measure.
126 notes · View notes
Text
Hope Can’t Fix Everything
Jasper x Human!Reader
Warnings - Angsty, mention of blood
Summary - Jasper finds his mate, but it’s not all perfect.
Tumblr media
Jasper Hale never planned for his life to go this way. He never planned to become a vampire or to live for eternity. But he always went along with it. No matter what fate tossed at him. Because he had hope. Hope guided him through all his years. It lead him to Alice who took him to the Cullens. Hope brought him a undead life he finally could be okay with it. But something was missing. His true love. He saw Emmet and Rose. Carlise and Esme. Edward and Bella. But he still was alone. He couldn't believe it. How could fate screw him over again. But even when it looked like fate forgot him. Alice reminded him to remember to have hope. To trust fate to bring him who he's looking for. And one day it finally died.
"Is this seat taken?"
Jasper's eyes moved from his paper to the person before him. They were beautiful. Absolutely stunning. They have no right to be this perfect.
"Hello?" They ask, "is it taken?"
"Uh no," Jasper says softly, "it's free." They smile lightly.
"Do you mind if I sit there?"
"No... I mean no I don't mind you can sit there," He says panicking lightly. They chuckle.
"You're cute," They say, "my names Y/n L/n. Yours?"
"Jasper Hale," He says softly.
"Jasper Hale," They say, "that is a nice name. You got lucky your parents loved you enough to give you a cool name." He chuckles lightly.
"I like your name," He says.
"Thanks," They say, "I hated it growing up. But it grew on me."
"Alright now that everyone is settled lets get started."
The feeling in Jaspers chest revealed it right away. This was his person. This was his mate. And to think they were just right there. So close. He felt excited for what was to come. But he was also terrified. He knew nothing about this person. But he knew one thing about them. His mate was human. Which made this about a hundred times harder.
When Jas got home that night Alice practically tackled him to the ground.
"Well?!" She exclaims.
"I found them," Jas says, "I found my mate."
The rest of the family looks wide eye at the boy. Happy for him. Sure but confused.
"Slight problem though," He says.
"What type of problem?" Bella asks.
"They are human."
This was something they weren't prepared for. Even after Bella and Edward. They always assumed that Jasper would end up with another vampire. Mostly because of his trouble with humans. But still it's not like he could change it now.
"So their human," Bella says, "so. I was human."
"Yeah Bella is right," Alice says, "they are your mate. You are destined to be together."
"Yeah Jasper," Emmet says, "you've been waiting for them for over a hundred years. I'm sure that a pulse isn't enough to stop you."
Jasper with his families' encouragement suddenly felt a lot better about the situation. He has his mate. The person he is destined to spend the rest of his life with. And they are right here. He'll do this right.
The next day he was waiting for them in his last class. Excitedly watching as they stride across the room to take the seat next to him.
"So why are you taking AP Environmental Science?" They ask Jasper, "what made you choose a class 9 other people choose?"
"I like science," He says, "and I wanted to study something new. What about you?"
"I'm a hippie," They say simply, "metal straws no plastic. Pure vegan." Jaspers smile drops lightly. His mate was a treehugger? He suddenly didn't know about this. "I'm totally kidding. My mom is a Environmental Lawyer and she signed me up for the class." He chuckles lightly.  "This class is a joke. You're lucky you joined halfway through it. Mr. Jones has been making us teach ourself since day one. So that fun little slideshow demonstration yesterday- don't get used to it."
"He doesn't teach?" Jasper asks, "why?"
"He's going through a divorce with his wife who also happens to be the Honors Anatomy Teacher," They explain, "since they filled for the divorce he's just been sitting at his desk sulking."
"Thats a shame," Jasper says.
"Yeah for our ap scores," They chuckle, "but don't worry I'll add you to the class group chat. What is your phone number?"
"Uh here," He says scribbling it down then handing it to them. They smile wide.
"Perfect," They say, "I'll add you to it. You'll get everything you need in it. Plus we have study sessions all the time and you get all the info for it in there."
"Thanks," He says, "thats awful nice of you."
"Anything for my fellow prisoner," They say, "besides without us there is no way you'd pass." Jasper chuckles. His mate moves to open their laptop and start working on something the teacher had sent for them. "So you have a big family?" They ask, "the ones who I always see you with right?"
"Yeah we were all adopted," He explains, "thats why-"
"You guys have people dating each other," They say, "I mean it's the talk of the school. The first interesting thing to happen in Evergreen since our prom queen killed our prom king."
"That happened?" Jasper asks.
"Yeah well that's what everyone thinks happen," They tell him, "I mean they never found a body and well Cassie and her family left town three days after Camden went missing. Anyways it happened a year ago. So now everyone's focus is on you guys. The Cullens."
"We are pretty used to it," He says, "we are a weird family so when we move to a new town we tend to get plenty of attention."
"Do you move a lot?"
"Uh kinda," Jasper answers, "just depends."
"Your dads a doctor right?" They ask, "what causes a doctor to move a lot?"
"We go where they need more doctors," Jasper answers, "apparently you guys were in some pretty desperate need." They chuckle.
"Yeah you can say that," They say, "we have a really small hospital so when Cassie's mom left we were down a doctor. You'd be surprised how bad losing one doctor is in a town like this."
"I can imagine," He says, "I mean it's a pretty big deal when you have one doctor."
"Tell me about it," They say.
The bell for the class rings signaling the end of school. They smile over at Jasper brightly. Then looks down to their phone. Jasper feels his phone buzz in his pocket. He pulls it out and smiles lightly.
Unknown- It's Y/n! Can't wait to get to know you
"If you need anything feel free to text me," They say.
"Hey Y/n lets go!" Some girl calls from the door.
"Yeah alright," They call to their friend then looks back to Jas, "I'll see you around Jasper."
As they move off Rose moves to Jaspers side with a smirk.
"They are cute," Rose says, "you should get on with it."
"Yeah sure," Jas says, "I'm trying okay."
The next couple days it seemed to go smoothly. They'd hang out at school text all night. It felt like everything was going right. So on Friday he decided to step it up a bit.
"Okay do you have any plans for tonight?" Jasper asks them.
"Uh no," Y/n says, "why? Wanna take me out on a date?"
"If you'll have me," He says, "a movie?"
"Sounds great," They say, "got any movie in mind?"
"I was gonna let you pick," He says. They move pulling their phone up. Then nod.
"Alright there is this horror movie called Until Sunrise and apparently its terrible," Y/n tells him, "we have to see it."
"You like horror movies?"
"I love horror movies," They tell him, "even more than that I love terrible horror movies. Ya know the ones that make you question if the writers were on bath salts while making them." He chuckles lightly. "If you don't like horror movies we have other options. But if it's just cause you're scared don't worry you can hold onto me for support."
"No that sounds great," He says, "do you need me to pick you up or do you just want to meet there?"
"We can meet. I'll see you there Jasper."
So he heads home to get ready. Explaining to his family that they were going to a movie. Bella tries to give him some tips for how modern human girls like their dates. Rose immediately tells Bella that Bella has no authority to talk because she was weird.
"I know what girls like-"
"Yeah from like 12 years ago," Rose says, "seriously think about it. Times have changed. Humans have changed since then."
"Okay so just be yourself,"  Alice recommends.
"He can't be himself his mate will run for the hills," Emmet says, "no you've got to be cool."
"Ignore him," Esme says, "just relax. Read the room."
"And remember to breath," Bella adds, "when you stop breathing it freaks people out. And blink."
"I remember to blink," Jasper says.
"No you really don't," Rose says, "so remember to do that."
"You should get going," Alice says, "you don't want to be late."
So He got to his car. As he drove he couldn't help but feel overwhelmingly nervous. What if he messes this up? What if he drives them away? Oh god. Suddenly his didn't know if he could go through with it anymore. But when he saw them sitting outside the theater staring up into the sky waiting patiently.  It all melted away. He climbs from his car heading towards them.
"Hey Y/n," He says.
"Hey Jas," They say, "you look nice."
"Thank you," He says, "you look beautiful." They smile lightly.
"Thank you," They say, "wanna head in?" Jas nods. Y/n moves lacing her fingers in his. The movie is terrible. Honestly. The two end up laughing through most of it. However Jas being able to hold their hand. Cling to them. It makes it the best date he's ever been on. It's one of the only dates he's ever been on.
One date turns to two. Turns into dating. It's going amazing. But he feels guilty.
"You still haven't told them?" Rose asks him carefully, "Jasper you have to tell them."
"I was planning to tell them," Jasper says.
"No you weren't," Edward says.
"Get out of my head Edward," Jasper says at once, "I'm tryin it's just. I don't want to ruin this ya know."
"If you don't tell them then you'll ruin it regardless," Emmet says, "I mean you can't not tell them."
"I know I know," Jasper says, "I'll tell them soon. Tonight. We have a date."
Before they can keep hassling him he leaves to go prepare for his date. His partner had talked him into going swimming in some lake. He didn't really care much for the later but when they suggest skinny dipping well he couldn't exactly say no to that.
He meets his partner at the lake. They are already in the water. Though apparently in a swim suit. They smile widely at Jasper as he makes his way towards them.
"Hey!" They call, "I was gonna wait but the water is really nice."
They move slipping out of the water to meet Jasper. Pulling him into a soft kiss.
"Come on," They say leading him into the water. He tosses aside his shirt then kicks off his jeans. Jumping in the water in his boxers. The vampire is thankful that the lake was shallow. It only went to chest meaning no awkward sinking of being the rock  solid vampire. They pull Jasper into another kiss. "I've missed you," They say as the break the kiss, "I'm not one for teen romance bullshit but... You are different."
"Well we were meant to be," Jasper says, "fate. Right Darlin?"
"Right," They say, "you are so right." They move kissing Jasper's jaw. "You are always talking about Fate. It's like you've been looking for me." They pull away from Jasper to sink into the water. Swimming away from him. Jasper smiles. If only they knew. The two move around the water playfully. He scoops his mate in his arms and playfully dunks them under the water. They come up laughing.
"Oh I'll get you for that Hale!" They scream. They splash the vampire with full force. He seems unfazed so they try again this time jumping on Jaspers back. He moves a little to roughly and knocks them back into the water.  They simply laugh for a second before they make a pained face. Then suddenly the smell of blood fills Jaspers senses. "Oh shit. I think I stepped on glass." Jaspers eyes shift to black. Pain and hunger filling him. His partner climbs from the water gentle moving to their pile of clothes hoping to address the wound. Jasper stares at his mate. Trying to keep himself in the water. Trying to relax. But the smell. The bloodlust rising in his stomach.
He moves towards his partner. Jumping to pin them down. They were shocked. Confused as to why this was happening.
"Jasper what are you doing?" They ask slightly startled. They start to move. But Jaspers firm grasp keeps them pinned down. His mouth opens. His fangs showing clear as day. Y/n tenses looking at her partner in pure terror. He looks like an animal. A monster. "Jas! Jas! What are you doing?!" They are thrashing under him. Trying to push him away. "Jasper get off of me!"
Jasper leans to his mates neck. His teeth scraping lightly.
"Jasper stop! Get off me you're scaring me!"
The boy moves starting to bite but before he can sink his teeth into her he's yanked off. He see's Edward and Emmet holding him back as he growls lightly.
"Jasper! Jasper stop!" Edward yells.
But he doesn't calm down until he sees his mate in Bella's arms sobbing violently. He feels his mates terror. It's suffocating. All his hunger melts into guilt and regret. What did he just do?
"Babe," He says softly. He moves yanking away from the two men.
"Get away from me!" They shout, "I don't want you anywhere near me you freak!"
"Darlin just let me explain-"
"No Jasper we are done!" They shout, "I don't want you anywhere near me."
"Darlin I-"
"You freak!"
Disgust. Thats all that's radiating from them. He watches as Y/n leaves. Bella walking with her. He ruined it. He lost his chance at his mate. He ruined his own life. All his hope for nothing. He could hope that in time they will let him back in but his hope can't fix anything. This time- hope isn't gonna be enough.
353 notes · View notes
snkpolls · 4 years
Text
SnK Chapter 126 Poll Results
The chapter 126 poll closed with 1,647 responses. Thank you for your support! This month’s poll results were compiled by @shifter-lines​ , /u/alooulla,   /u/_Puppet_, @manerein and @momtaku.
  RATE THE CHAPTER 1,514 responses
Tumblr media
“Rate the Chapter” is a genuine bell curve this month instead of having its more typical overwhelmingly positive skew. While not terrible by any means, the response to chapter 126 was the most lukewarm since chapter 107, and it was the second worse performing chapter since we started the poll.
(Kazoo Avengers theme)
By far, this was the chapter I enjoyed the least, I just hope that the ending feels realistic
Definitely fast paced, but definitely needed to finally kick things into high gear. The Calm Before The Storm…
it was pretty disappointing by aot standards, but the last 15 chapters were amazing, so what am i even complaining for.... i just hope that isayama can write a decent ending.
I feel like this is either one of those chapters that will be more rewarding in hindsight when we have more info or was just straight up moving forward so we can get to the good stuff faster and we will have to suck it up and move on. All in all I think it was a good chapter even if a little rushed.
Easily the worst chapter in years due to the fast pacing, convenient plot developments and cliche and very cheesy and cringey ending page quote.
In the anime they could make a whole episode out this single chapter instead of using two chapters to make a single episode
ISAYAMA GET YOUR SHIT TOGETHER!! THE SAUNA AINT RUNNING AWAY FROM YOU
Haha pie
  WHICH OF THE FOLLOWING WAS YOUR FAVORITE MOMENT? 1,519 responses
Tumblr media
After nearly a year of absence Levi and Hange were finally back in the story so it’s no surprise that “Everything with Levi and Hange” topped the list of favorite moments with 22.1%. “Avengers Assemble” was a distant second with 10.6%. Confirmation that Levi was alive came in third (10.2%).
ONYANKOPON CALLYING JAEGERISTS A BUNCH OF CHAUVINISTS
Pieck and Hange teaming up? Eren better watch out because those two together are gonna KICK SOME ASS!
Hange needs so much more appreciation, she is such a good person. I hope she and Levi both survive this shit.
I loved everything that happened, it just desperately needs some more detail filled in.
I loved Levi and Hange interactions
Annie eating pie is just perfect
It was so good to see Levi and Hanji again and together. They suffered so much, i need an end where they both survive and can have a restful retirement
Glad to see that Connie is still a good guy. Also that he is trying his best becouse of his Mother.
But what Pieck Pieck? The greatest tragedy is that Isayama took that from us, y'know not that Eren is destroying the world or something...
I really loved to see Armin and Annie together!
  WHICH OF THE FOLLOWING WAS YOUR LEAST FAVORITE MOMENT? 1,507 responses
Tumblr media
Talk about polarity. “Avengers Assemble” may have been the second most popular “Favorite Moment” but it was also  the landslide winner for “Least Favorite” with nearly 22% of the fandom selected it as the worst moment of the chapter. “Floch’s Speech” (13.8%) and “The Ragako Subplot” (13.5%) rounded out the top 3.
everyone called them the avengers but lets get real they are a fuckin Suicide Squad
Why are we wasting time on Louise
Avengers Lowcost version
Didn't understand Magath reasons to join forces with his enemys. It felt like some story in between was missing.
Can I just say I hate what Isayama did with Connie's character? I've never seen a character as bipolar in his development
Floch was the only good part....
  WHO WAS THIS CHAPTER’S MVP? 1,503 responses
Tumblr media
Hange (23%), Jean (16.2%) and Armin (13.4%) were our top three favorite characters this month. It needs to be said that “Pie” came in at number four with nearly 10% of the fandom selecting it.
it WAS nice to see characters choosing to be their best selves for the sake of others. For that reason, it was difficult to pick an MVP -- but I gave it to Onyankopon because he crystallized so eloquently exactly what I had been thinking since Eren started the Rumbling.
Levi and hange tho
So much Erwin nods!  Yesss <333
Still love my boy Jean!
Some characters are still acting consistent: Jean, Magath, Levi (still not over killing the BT and that's good), Onyankopon and Floch.
Connies growth, Jean's motivation, I'm glad these boys are reclaiming their almost-lost humanity!
Levi. That is all.
Oh, also, I want pie.
  WHAT WAS YOUR FAVORITE HANGE AND LEVI CAMPSITE MOMENT? 1,494 responses
Tumblr media
“Hange suggesting that they live in the woods together” (27.2%) was the favorite campsite moment, followed by “Levi’s words upon waking up” (23.3%).  “Hange sniping while shedding a tear” was third (19.6%))
I'm giving this 5/5 solely for Yams finally feeding the LeviHan shippers some good fucking food after so long.
I ship Levi and Hange. It's so cute when Hange realized that Levi was listening to her/him while pretending to sleep.
Shirtless Levi round two! Wit, you better do the job correctly this time!
We need a Historia chapter but it’s great to see Hange and Levi being back.
  PIECK… FINGER? 1,492 responses
Tumblr media
Pieck Finger. Pieck Finger everybody. You know how a common response to trauma or awkwardness is humor? Well 42.6% of you are primarily concerned with how “Pieck Finger” will be memed. 24.7% of you accept the trauma and say you wish she would’ve just stayed “Pieck”, and 20.6% of you are glad she has a last name, but did it really have to end like this? 6.5% of you think it’s a “cool and realistic last name”, and I think you guys scare me more than the people who vote “Snapchat” on the last question every month. More on that later.
"pekfinger" is swedish for "pointer finger" too. oh lord
Back when Pieck was supposed to be a dude, the working name was "Oliver Pieck", at least from what I read on the AoT wiki. I feel like Isayama could have just switched the first and last name around to make it "Pieck Oliver." That would've sounded far less weird.
I know a guy named Buck Ramming. Pieck Finger is fine by me lol
It's an instruction not a name.
Levi sure could use a couple of Piecks right about now heyoooooo
the fact that she got the worst titan and now also the worst name it’s so funny
What kind of a first name is Pieck?
  AS PREDICTED, CONNIE’S ROADTRIP WITH FALCO ENDED AMICABLY. WHAT DID YOU THINK OF IT? 1,498 responses
Tumblr media
The Ragako subplot did little for the readers with nearly one-third of the fandom calling it a complete waste of time. The majority (46.2%) were slightly more charitable selecting “It was ok. I’m glad it wrapped up quickly”. Only 17.5% loved the moment. The write-ins were pretty damning.
Good plotpoint, really bad execution
I cringed the whole time.
I liked the outcome, but it was handled too quickly
A complete waste of time: Connie's arc? Sharted over. The consequences about Falco? Sharted over. Possibility to exploit serumbowl or Ymir's memories? Glossed over.
All of this made no sense and it was solved so quickly it seemed unrealistic. YAMS WE NEED PROPER CLOSURE PLS DON'T WASTE MORE INK
Connie changed his mind a bit too quickly, but it was good nevertheless
Connie deserved better writing.
Felt too shallow for how quick it sprung up, needed more development. As it is now, it could've just not happened
I'm glad that Connie hasn't died yet because I appreciate him, but there's been wasted potential. Ymir's memories and Porco and Colt's deaths have been reduced to a single vignette where we can only speculate and write fics.
Missed opportunity to actually develop Connie's character. We didn't learn anything we didn't already know about Connie.
This feels like what the anime did to the Uprising Arc. It happened way too fast and honestly felt like Isayama was just checking it off a list, so to say. Which is honeslty a bit uncharactieristic of his writing. I really hope this doesn't start, or continue, a trend...
  WHICH DENTAL HYGIENE MOMENT DID YOU ENJOY MORE? 1,494 responses
Tumblr media
Before I talk about the numbers, I just want to shout out the one guy who responded “Other” and just said “why”. Anyway, a solid majority of you guys’ favorite dental hygiene moment was Hange asking Pieck rude lady questions, which frankly sounds much worse than it actually is. The next most common answer, getting just over 25% of the votes, was Connie’s Master Plan™, followed by “Both”, followed by “Neither!” I still like the guy who just said “why”.
I didn't mind it, but I heard that Isayama did this so he could get a toothbrush merch campaign going lol
Isayama has a teeth fetish confirmed
Holy Fuck what was Connies face doing when he was talking about titan teeth brushing.
Why, just why
Pie
  WHAT DO YOU THINK OF HOW MIKASA ACTED TOWARDS LOUISE? 1,457 responses
Tumblr media
The fandom is almost evenly divided over Mikasa’s actions towards Louise. By the narrowest of margins, Mikasa’s compassionate nature took the majority (26.8%). The other extreme, “Mikasa should’ve sucked it up and let the girl be happy”, was second with 26.2%. A quarter of the fandom instead chose to focus on Louise. “Louise was crazy and deserves the cold shoulder” was third (23.9%).
It's not surprising that Mikasa ran out of f*cks to give. There are only so many lives she can value, and right now she doesn't have the time to spare, or room in her heart.  
I don't think Mikasa had any responsibility there, and the scarf is hers. Given its significance, and that she owes Louise nothing, it seemed like the moment was morally neutral.
I really didn't care. Louise is barely a character, and Mikasa had no duty to be nice to a person who enabled and supported a bloody coup just because she saved her life once.
I don’t blame Mikasa. I don’t like and want to spend time with my stalkers either
I felt bad for Louise. She’s dying, let her think you care about her, Mikasa
I felt like Louise is completely obsessional but Mikasa is just as much. To me these kinds of moments show that Mikasa has completely lost it recently
I'm concerned about what this says for Mikasa's character development thus far, and I felt kind of bad for Louise
I'm sick of the scarf back and forth
It actually seems quite obvious to me that Mikasa pitied the poor girl, but there was nothing she could have done for her. Because she simply lacks the time necessary to care for Luise, or change her mind or make sure that she's ok.
That this is about Mikasa’s compassion or lack thereof I think says more about how we feel women should feel. I think it was fine, she barely knows Louise and there is a lot more going on. Louise is a grown woman that made her own decisions.
the most interesting part about it is that Eren asked Louise to throw the scarf away. that's it.
Mikasa already did a good gesture by visiting Louise, no one would ask Jean to do the same with Floch, so I don't see the big deal. Both cases are "protagonist sees themselves in antagonist, and realise how they mustn't become like them".
  WHY DID MIKASA DECIDE TO TAKE HER SCARF BACK? 1,482 responses
Tumblr media
“Mikasa wants it back for other reasons” was the selection of nearly half of respondents, since “wearing it” and vague malice towards Louise were the other two options.
Eren wants her to throw it away, so she's making her own decision and going against his wishes on purpose.
I don’t know if she’ll wear it again, but it’s always been her scarf and she’ll decide it’s fate when she’s ready
I think she wants to give it back to Eren.
It's still important to her. She may let go of Eren but the scarf is always gonna be there to remind her of what was and the family she once had.
It’s just simply that it’s hard to throw away a possession you held dear for most of your life. It’d be more out of character for her to throw it away. I don’t think she ever planned on abandoning the scarf—setting it aside was rather Isayama’s way of showing Mikasa’s conflicted thoughts on her relationship with Eren.
Ultimately, Mikasa's the authority on the scarf and it's emotional weight, while Louise was trying to squeeze her own meaning out of it. It wasn't Louise's place to do so, and it wasn't her scarf to take. Whatever is to be done with it, to see it used again, given to someone else, or see it thrown out or destroyed, is a choice only the scarf's real owner, Mikasa, should make.
  THEY FOUND ANNIE BY SITTING NEXT TO HER WHILE SHE WAS EATING PIE, THOUGHTS? 1,497 responses
Tumblr media
The reunion with Annie was another chapter moment that fell flat for the majority with only 21.8% expressing approval with it. The majority (31.8%) thought it would’ve been ok if there was more time for conversation and reaction and 22% were primarily bothered by the coincidence involved in the reunion. The remaining 20% found the lazy writing unforgivable.
*sigh*
There was way too much build up just to have it end in a gag. It was cute, but it... just doesn't work?
Are you telling me that every time you talk about Robert Downey Jr. he doesn't just appear right next to you?
Humor was not appropriate in this situation
I fucking loved it
I think it's lazy writing but it made me laugh pretty hard so I'll give it a pass
It was a funny moment but definitely not how I had imagined nor hoped Armin/Annie's reunion would happen
Sitting together like nothing happened before and eat and laugh… are you serious?!! It’s not funny
SNK has always had funny moments like this woven into it, especially when the 104th were still trainee's, and it's nice to see a tonal flashback to the past like this.
Stranger things have happened. Floch's hair, for example.
  WHAT SORT OF PIES DO YOU THINK THEY WERE EATING? 1,469 responses
Tumblr media
Fruit. Definitely fruit.
...
( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)
What's the point of this question?? I'm confused
What the fuck is a meat pie?
We're missing PIEces of the puzzle still
  WHAT PIE WOULD YOU SCARF DOWN THAT FAST IF YOU WERE ANNIE? 1,459 responses
Tumblr media
Apple (23.9%), and chocolate (16.2%) are our favorite pies, with Meat and “I don’t like pie” tying for third (11.4%). Several respondents were rather vocal about this even being asked. To them I say Isayama is the one who started this :P 
Apricot, you American heathens
Duh. Pineapple of course
I'd be more worried about getting home to my dad before he's crushed by a psycho
Marleyan organ pie made by the Usurper Chad himself!
nectarine pie.... you should try it
Rhubarb pie. Best Pie Ever.
Sweet Potato Pie!
There are so many interesting questions you could have asked in this poll yet didn't, but you're asking about pie?  (A/N: There are so many interesting things Isayama could have drawn in this chapter yet didn't, but he's drawing about pie? )
  HOW DID YOU FEEL ABOUT HITCH BEING LEFT BEHIND? 1,479 responses
Tumblr media
While the majority thought it was a good way to write her out (36.3%), there was plenty of disappointment (26.2%) and many who thought it could’ve been handled better (16.6%). A segment of the fandom (18.5%) thinks she’ll be back since there is more she has yet to do.  
Perfect. She is always left behind throughout the series. The continuation of this makes sense.
Does the lack of Hitch means the lack of pies? Because this is unacceptable.
Glad that she'll survive probably, but she was such an interesting character
Annie and Hitch were my new otp, so just sad feels
Hitch is safe from now on. Ok for me.
I felt so sorry for her, because Annie's disappearance reminded me a bit of Hitch's relationship with Marlowe. Once more it seemed like the Survey Corps was taking someone precious away from her, off to an unknown and risky fate
I never had pie so Idk.
  WERE YOU WORRIED THAT JEAN WOULD JOIN THE JAEGERISTS? 1,480 responses
Tumblr media
For this question, 21.5% of you were a little nervous that Jean might join the Jaegerists, but a much more significant 69.2% understood the implied fact that the Jaegerists only accept humans, and Jean is a horse, and therefore there was never any threat of him allying with them. You’d think that with like four hundred years of this series being out, I’d think of a better way to make that joke, but here we are. Anyway, the last 9.3% of you think Jean would do more to help Paradis if he joined the Ab Church, which is an excellent parallel to the Wall Church in the beginning of the series, I might add.
I still wish more time was given to the subplots such as more time to stew on Jean joining the Yaegarists
  LAST MONTH 75% OF THE FANDOM THOUGHT JEAN WOULD BE THE PERSON TO TAKE DOWN FLOCH. DO YOU STILL THINK THE HAIRBOWL WILL HAPPEN? 1,463 responses
Tumblr media
Remaining in the strong majority, 72.6% of you guys think there will be some sort of confrontation between Jean and Floch, though whether that means you think Jean will be the person to “take down” Floch or not is beyond me. I don’t know. I didn’t write this question, I’m just writing the blurb for it.
I'm still betting on Floch shooting Jean in the head as a punishment for not going along with the flow
take down Floch please!!!! ..
  FINAL WORDS. WHO DID IT BETTER? 1,479 responses
Tumblr media
With 43% of the vote, Onyankopon’s... several... words? beat out Yelena’s strong and (mostly) silent type response (which got 33.1% of the vote, by the way) at their “execution''. 23.9% of respondents said “Both”, and while technically “both” couldn’t have done it “better”, I’ll let it slide, because they were both pretty cool, and semantics don’t matter.
Best boy was Onyankopon. We only used to get glimpses of him and finally he has rebelled, showing that he has more guts than some of our main characters.
  JEAN AND HANGE’S PLAN TO ESCAPE SHIGANSHINA HAPPENED OFFSCREEN. HOW DO YOU FEEL ABOUT THAT? 1,473 responses
Tumblr media
Three-fourths of the fandom expressed some disapproval of how the offscreen planning of the escape from Shinganshina went down calling it sloppy(18.1%) and confusing (13.9%). Of those, the majority (39%) will be ok with it if a future chapter provides more details. Only a quarter of the fandom completely loved the handling of this.
Even if flashbacks fill the gaps later, they won't make 126 a better chapter.
How did they even communicate? I thought it was all planned between Jean and Mikasa
on the page with the titans marching at night, you can see a figure standing outside jean's window. could be hange coming to discuss plans
I liked it, but I think I like it even more if it's explained in the next chapter(s).
I think he did it that way to add surprise. I feel like lately he has been in general illustrating with a more cinematic eye and by writing the scene this way it will play better in visual media. Lately I feel like he has been thinking this way, it’s been a trend for a while now.
This is why you shouldn't cram up 3 chapters worth of content into one. I don't care if Isayama has to end his volume on some goddamn awful page. You don't mess with certain parts of the narrative.
It was fine, it wasn't necessarily a scene that needed to be included so I'm fine with it.
  WHO WAS THE PERSON IN THE WINDOW? 1,456 responses
Tumblr media
Who was the person in the window? Was Chapter 116 the last time we’ll ever see Eren transform into his Attack Titan? How to turn into a titan without alerting the military police??? When will I stop asking questions? Right now!
Just under two-thirds of the votes for this question went to Shadis. Following Shadis at a clean 10% is Zeke, trailed by Zombie Erwin at 9.6%. Given the theories about Eren’s body at the end of 117 being a Warhammer clone, I never thought I’d see the day when Zombie Erwin beats Eren in a “who is the mysterious character who is not inside Eren’s Titan” question, but here we are!
CHADIS
Keith Lurkdis
Erwin never died! What even is that option 'zombie Erwin'???
Farmer-kun
Idk but whomever it is I hope they're a good guy.
Male adult figure... Must be my man Shadis. There's no way Zeke would wear so many clothes.
Ugh I have no idea. I’m not going to pretend I can predict anything anymore.
2Pac
  WHY DO YOU THINK MAGATH DEMANDED THEY CAPTURE YELENA? 1,465 responses
Tumblr media
Why did Magath bring Yelena back with Jean and Onomatopoeia? ~20% of you thought it was because she’s need for a plan involving Zeke, ~17% think he wants the details of Zeke’s plan from her, just over 14% said  he wants information about Eren, 4.4% of you think he wants her as a prisoner, and the overwhelming majority, at 44.6%, think it’s all of the above.
My theory is that Yelena is Magath's daughter
  WHAT DID YOU THINK OF THE FINAL PANEL? 1,478 responses
Tumblr media
Another close one. If we disregard those who selected “Avengers Assemble”, which even though we added it I have no idea if it’s meant “Hell yes, can’t wait to see the Hulk and Black Widow together again” or “Please let Tony Stark’s legacy RIP.”, The “I didn’t like it” beat out the “I liked it” by 0.3%. However you look at the data, it’s astonishing that essentially one-third of the fandom did not like this ending.
*sigh*
Get in loser, we're going to save the world
A nice cringe to start my day with :)
The old gangs back together but with ADDITIONAL TRAUMA
I think it was supposed to be satirical. A lot of us expected that the warriors and the 104th would unite again so I think Isayama made it as cliché as possible to 1)offer the readers some comic relief, 2)maybe mock his own plot and show that he's aware that this alliance is kind of cliché.
At what point did Annie and Reiner deserve to be forgiven and taken in by the SC? And why do they think they actually can (or even should) stop the Rumbling?
Marvel copied the last panel
It is a reference to Reiner’s long time ambition, and an indication to his next role. Helos perhap. But I don't think isayama would let him save the world happily. Maybe he will save the world in an ironic and tragic way.
Brilliant !!! Finally it's Connie's turn to shine.
Can't wait to see this optimism crushed. Great moment, though.
I don't understand why people think it's such a cheap cheesy ploy when it's honestly kinda obvious that they're being set up for a fall. Optimism almost always meets at the very least a bittersweet reality in this story.
It's cheesy, but people don't consider it's Connie who's saying this who is an idiot
  REGARDING THE LAST PANEL, DO YOU THINK THEY HAVE A PLAN? 1,475 responses
Tumblr media
Nearly 70% of you believe that Final Panel Gang have a plan, while just over 30% think they’re just gonna wing it. Get it? “Wing it”?
For more serious commentary, we’re normally used to seeing “Yes/No” questions a little more perfectly split, especially the ones that involve Eren. It’s interesting to see a more unified response, even if it means that SOMEBODY on Reddit is going to say “Nice.” about the Yes vote.
Isayama will probably do a flashback of the plan, he likes doing this sort of thing lol. It was fine.
It's fine IF the planning is shown in the following chapters, but if not then it'll feel like Isayama couldn't come up with solutions and did everything off screen just because of that.
Telling the plan to the reader only works, if the plan fails.
I feel like the pacing of the chapter was this fast so that Isayama could end with the "Avengers Assemble" scene as the big volume cliffhanger for the next one, so he tried to get through the events quickly to give it that poetic ending. In that case, it's possible Isayama might show how some of these events unfolded in the next chapter or two; he usually does that kind of thing when showing big events for the first time. If the next chapter fleshes some of the scenes from this chapter more like showing Jean discussing the Avengers' plan with Mikasa and Armin, I think that could make this chapter better when we look back on it.
  WOULD YOU RATHER THIS CHAPTER HAVE BEEN SPLIT INTO TWO? 1,468 responses
Tumblr media
Remember what I said about being accustomed to more split votes? Well, 39.5% of you said that you would prefer this chapter have been split into two, citing a lack of development, while 39.2% of you said that you’re glad Isayama is, *ahem*, moving forward with the plot. The near-perfect divisions breaks off a little bit when we consider that another ~12% said no, blaming the plots themselves for the problems with chapter, and 6% effectively voting yes, saying that the chapter should’ve been split into three.
Ask me again in a few months when we see how the whole plot wraps up and if Isayama adds any additional details via flashback.
Honestly all of these plot points could have been arcs within themselves and i wish it had been given enough time to become that
I like that the plot is progressing but i don't like the subplots being rushed
I'm happy it's going forward and not dragging on, but I would've loved more of an interaction between the scouts and annie/reiner.
One and a half
𝜋
There are various holes (lack of reaction during Annie's appearance, poor coherency of when Eren managed to speak with many people) but Isayama is giving us cool alliances, so it's half okay.
  IF YOU COULD DROP A SUBPLOT, WHICH ONE WOULD IT BE? 1,463 responses
Tumblr media
A fairly close call here, with the trip to Ragako Village being out in front with 42.6 percent of you claiming this is the subplot you would drop; Louise and Mikasa’s plot about the scarf is close behind on 36.2 percent. Perhaps readers feel the time for small subplots is done, since there’s so much still to do with the main plot we do not understand? A lot of responses indicated Mikasa’s perceived ‘cruelty’ (you’re all wrong, just so you know!) towards Louise, so perhaps this is indicative of why so many people would choose this event to be the subplot to drop.
Mikasa is just dead inside atm, but i feel bad for Louise
Mikasa knew Louise wanted that scarf, but she knew she needed it more. Plus I can barely remember Louise lol
Mikasa's behavior isn't good, but it's understandable---there are numerous mentally taxing events occurring.
Ragako stuff kinda sucked.
Goddamnit, this chapter was smelly poo. Not only we spent 3 months for nothing with that stupid Ragako plot and now everybody is holding hands just like that. If you're bringing an alliance you're not gonna make it happen offscreen with no detail whatsoever?
Ah and the Ragako subplot missed addressing the serumbowl as well: all we got is Armin whining about not being like Erwin and that's it. No Bert, no Ymir being addressed.
  IF YOU COULD HAVE MORE INFORMATION ABOUT ONE SUBPLOT IN THIS CHAPTER, WHICH WOULD YOU CHOOSE? 1,466 responses
Tumblr media
Another close one! “The Armin and Annie reunion” is the subplot the majority wished for more information about with nearly 30% selecting it. “The conversation with Hange and Magath” was second (25.2%) and “Escape from Shiganshina” (17.7%) was third.
I was just expecting Levi, Hange and the corps interaction would be more surprising. The same goes for Annie and Armin's convo.
The mikasa scarf submit definitely could’ve happened in another chapter. This was too rushed and I really hope no other chapters feel this way. This chapter should’ve just been the Tagalog subplot, and then Annie and armin reunion. Then another chapter with hange/levi, Jean/flock and how they all came together to join forces.
It's so obvious this mad lad Isayama wanted to break the tension from the Armin / Annie reunion scene. We never know where he's going to trick us, do we ?
I do think that many things were kind of glossed over to save time. I'd prefer that things slow down a bit, just so we can soak up all that context. For example, the conversation between Hange and Magath, Annie and Armin's reunion and others.
  WHAT DO YOU THINK ABOUT HOW EASILY THE ALLIANCES WERE FORMED? 1,474 responses
Tumblr media
A mere 17.5% enjoyed how easily the alliances were formed. The majority (43%) called it “OK” while a more than a third of the fandom (36.2%) hated it. Some folks seem to indicate it was expected and just needed to happen quickly so the story could move along. However, the amount of people who hated it was too large to ignore; and largely for similar reasons, that it appeared too easy. Maybe the mistrust and emotion will come as the story moves along? Some of your responses indicate trouble ahead, if not behind.
Also Hanji sides too many times with "benefactors". I'm expecting the alliance to be shaky, with probably backstabbings and double-crossings. They seemed to make an agreement over killing Zeke (since no side likes him), and I doubt characters like Mikasa, Armin or Jean would be ok with killing Eren.
I don't get all the madness over the alliance, It was obvious it would happen. Also it's obvious all the things glossed this chapter will be shown in Flashback if important, like what lead Annie join them, on how Hanji contacted Jean (although i think a lot of people didn't notice the shadow in the window on that panel of Jean in the bed).
It was warm and fuzzy and I really needed that, but the actual details of the new alliance will absolutely need to be expounded upon soon.
it wouldve been better if connie's mom plot didn't exist we could've got a better build up to the alliance
Overall, things were way too rushed, as if Isayama just wanted to get to the last page.  I'm expecting to see how this alliance was made in flashback form, as is typical for Isayama, but that won't fix the inherent issues of this specific chapter.
Hange getting so along with Pieck, who fought against them when Erwin was killed, was a complete joke.
I don't get all the madness over the alliance, It's was obvious it would happen. Also it's obvious all the things glossed this chapter will be shown in Flashback if important, like what lead Annie join them, on how Hanji contacted Jean (although i think a lot of people didn't noticed the shadow in the window on that panel of Jean in the bed).
I love seeing them all but oh heckin it was just a little too fast
  WHICH THROWBACK DID YOU ENJOY MOST CHAPTER? 1,465 responses
Tumblr media
“Jean remembering Marco” (31.9%) narrowly edged out “Annie kicking Reiner”(30.3%) as our favorite throwback. Levi remembering his promise was a distant third (16.2%).
That Marco’s  throwback really hit me . *SOB*
I didn't like the Erwin reference when Armin tried to sacrafice himself for connies mother, instead of falco being eaten.
Armin recognized a very important thing to himself (he can't stay trying to Erwin, he suck on that, he needs to do what he is good on it, but as his own person and not shadow of Erwin)
Where was Jean at the end there? I want him to confront Annie over Marco. Poor guy had the worst death in the series. He was murder in cold blood and then it got covered up. Plus, the only person trying to solve the mystery is Jean. Bless Jean he is such a good friend
It makes sense that Connie would say that to Reiner of all people (that line come back to his childhood trauma). Fandom freaking out and fearing a cheesy happy ending is ridiculous.
I didn’t think it was cheesy at all. It circles back to Reiner’s declaration to Keith back during the training arc.
I'm kinda sick of Reiner's Kick The Dog treatment too. I know Annie hates him but still...
  REGARDING HOW THE AVENGER'S MISSION AND THE ENDING WILL GO, WHICH OF THESE IS PREFERABLE/ACCEPTABLE TO YOU? 1,465 responses
Tumblr media
Fans proving as ever, that they are a divisive bunch! However, it's clear that the smallest amount of responses favour the rumbling being stopped and world peace occuring (hippies!). Some responses indicate that this chapter made them nervous for the ending being overly optimistic, even with Eren as the apparent antagonist. Endings where Eren achieves an extreme form of Brexit (Paradexit?) with a victory over the armies of the world have a fairly even spread of positive responses, proving that he still has a lot of fans on his side. However, most of you responded in the vague sense of feeling like Isayama knows best and at this point, just seeing where this wild ride takes us.
I keep seeing this popular prediction on almost every platform: Eren destroys the world outside Paradise, goes back to Historia and her newborn kid (in this sort of prediction it is always assumed that he's the father), tells his kid (who is also thought to be reborn Ymir) "you're free" and goes on to be a good dad - End of story. Honestly the thought of this type of ending pisses me off so much. Not only because its reeks of typical shonen ending, but because it goes against all the themes and ideas that Isayama has written into the story over the years.
I would not be upset with a 'golden' ending. Some part of me wants that to happen.
It setup the shonen cliche route and can ruin the ending
It was very unusual for this manga. I hope that the author will come to the most logical ending and will not use the power of friendship.
Least exciting chapter I can remember; it has me apprehensive about the ending.
I hope Eren's conclusion will end with him winning, however I do not him accepting his morality and to be shocked at what he's done but to come to terms with what he's done.
While I'm more supportive of Eren, I'm fine with whichever side comes out on top of this as long as it doesn't involve Eren being stopped through Power of Friendship or Talk no Jutsu. That would feel too cheap.
  WHICH RALLYING CRY DID YOU PREFER? 1,445 responses
Tumblr media
While the Ragako subplot wasn’t exactly loved, Connie’s rallying cry was the fandom favorite (28.4%). Hange’s plea to Magath was a close second (26%) while Floch’s message of freedom was third (25%).
  AT THIS POINT, AROUND WHICH CHAPTER DO YOU EXPECT THE MANGA WILL CONCLUDE? 1,472 responses
Tumblr media
The pacing of this chapter and the way its implications relate to the entire manga was, if I may be so bold, one of the more talked about meta points this month, from what I’ve seen. Maybe that was the thought process behind this question. I don’t know. I didn’t write this one either. That’s a good thought process though.
Anyway, a borderline overwhelming majority of you said that the manga will end around Chapter 134 (48.4% of you). The next most common answer was Chapter 138, which would give us 12 more chapters. Chapter 130 got the least amount of votes, at 7.3%. The remaining votes went to Chapter 142+, and I appreciate that optimism, because I for one hate thinking about this question.
  WHAT ARE YOU MOST HOPING TO SEE NEXT CHAPTER? 1,475 responses
Tumblr media
“Historia when?” (26%) tops the list followed by the long awaited Eren POV (23.5%). “Details on things glossed over this chapter” was the third pick (22.7%) followed by “Zeke, Eren and OG Ymir” (11.6%).
I can't wait to see Zeke's reaction at seeing Levi AGAIN ready to fuck him up.
Historia when?? Also, Hange needs a hug, Levi needs sleep, Armin and Annie need to talk, Falco needs to deal with his brother's death some more, and we all need Erwin to come back :(
I hope we get flashbacks to explain all this off screen development.
Isayama please for the love of god remember that Historia exists.
Where is HISTORIA
where is zeke?
  WHERE DO YOU PRIMARILY DISCUSS THE SERIES? 1,401 responses
Tumblr media
Reddit continues to dominate this question, pulling 44.9% of the vote. “I don’t” actually takes second place this month, with Tumblr coming next, followed very closely by Twitter, which is in turn followed closely by Discord. In descending order from there, we have real life, 4chan, Youtube, a two-way tie between Instagram and Facebook, and everything else has less than 10 votes.
Before I move on though, it’s absolutely critical that I draw your attention to last month’s poll. Last month, I said, and I quote,
“Lastly, something ominous is going on in the Snapchat cult, because there were only two of you this month, down from five last month. That’s still enough to reproduce though and it makes me uneasy.“
“Why are you bringing that up?” you may be asking yourself. I’m bringing it up because Snapchat got SIX votes this time. “Why does that matter?” you ask yourself next. I’m glad you asked. That’s a 300% increase. If that rate continues, in just five month’s time, there will be more members of the Snapchat cult than the rest of you COMBINED.
That’s not to say anything more than it says, but I should add that I was totally vindicated on the Snapchat cult reproduction theory. Having done the math, you guys DEFINITELY scare me more than the people who liked “Pieck Finger”.
  ADDITIONAL THOUGHTS ON THE CHAPTER? 375 responses
Remember kids, the world is currently supposed to be ending
I know most people hated how rushed it felt, but honestly, I'm glad this wasn't split into 2 months. This leaves more time for the conclusion, and would much rather the alliances be rushed rather than the ending.
While it's certainly sad that Louise may not be long for this world, I also don't think Mikasa owes her anything. Mikasa seems to see a lot of traits she dislikes about herself cranked up to 11 in Louise, and I think it's understandable to need to distance oneself from toxic ideas or people. Mikasa and Louise were never friends, they never really knew each other, and never really cared about each other. Sure, Louise idolized an idea of Mikasa, but she put herself as separate from the real Mikasa, lesser. These two strangers never had a real chance to truly know each other, and that's okay, sad but okay.
While the panel of Annie with a face stuffed with pie is a gem, I think it seemed almost too good a coincidence. Both parties (Armin, Connie and the kids and Hitch & Annie) happen to be taking a break from their travels at the same time in the same city at the same festival. Seemed a bit too lucky.
Isayama has a bias against the yeagerists too. Portraying them as mindless dumbasses that are evil for no reason. Look at Floch everytime he has a moment it gets cut short for a "oh look at this dumbass" type of conclusion like him missing the shot at Shadis and getting duped by Jean and the 104th.
my dumb shipper’s heart wants Pieck’s reaction to Porco’s death.
this chapter felt too 'super hero movie' to me, in the sense that it was way too optimistic and cheesy, nothing like the Attack on Titan I know and love. Isayama's been watching too much Marvel.
A rushed chapter, Isayama may have messed up some timelines (e.g. Louise's talk with Eren, the changes in day and night), maybe Isayama was too focused on SAUNA SAUNA SAUNA when he was drawing the chapter but anyway, if the chapter was rushed because he wants to move to next plots (eee....east...eeeek...Ki....), I'm fine with it ¯\_(ツ)_/¯
Chapter Would've been terrific if it weren't for the rushed forced alliance. Mikasa's character also seemed out of place this chapter.
is not a bad chapter but at the same time is not a godly chapter like others but i have faith on isayama that he will blow our minds
Felt very disappointed and it is as if this story is moving to black and white territory again.
Good fast development, optimistic that what was glossed over will be addressed. A bit antsy that this is a setup for some tragedy but I don’t expect total senseless ruin for the characters.
I don't really see where all the complaints are coming from, to me the chapter must be one of my all time favorites ever since I've started reading the manga at the regular monthly pace. I think the build up and the tension have been steadily increasing slowly enough up to this point, and now we've finally reached the top of the roller coaster tracks, and it's time for the ride to the conclusion. I loved the mysterious plan, it reminds me of the uprising arc (ah the good old times).
I hope the author just got a bit lost and had to put things back on track quickly. I want to feel for these characters, not find out that I followed their struggles for chapters to see them dissolve for the sake of the plot.
Eren has suffered a lot over the years and a lot of things have been TAKEN from him - but do you remember "In order to achieve something, you have to give up something important"? I don't think Eren has ever GIVEN up something of his. He's always been a little maniac intent on killing the enemy (which is what he is doing right now). There have been so many characters in the story that have given up their dreams and finally their lives, why is Eren the one that gets to have his cake and eat it too?
I love it cause we need some time of just relax and be happy before the sad ending
I’m hoping the next chapter will make this one better by fleshing things out. Also seeing Annie and Reiner reunite made me deeply miss Bertolt this month.
JE VEUX PAS QUE CE MANGA FINISSE OMG
Reiner getting kicked in the face to wake up and understanding nothing is all of us
The more things don't seem to add up, the more you have to pay attention, that's what I learnt reading this series. And a whole lot didn't seem to add up in this chapter so I'm super hyped!
This is easily one of the weakest chapters Isayama has ever written. After creating all of these subplots that we were expecting to go somewhere and hold emotional weight for the characters were written off into cheap one-liners, off screen reactions and discussion, and just overall completely weak subplots that left us with no emotional payoff.
Boii I'm glad the development on the characters matters only when its relevant to the plot, I almost forget that I used to like them. If Reiner of all people doesn't point out how creepy and disgusting it all is I don't know what to say, what a waste of time of a series.
Connie mentioning Sasha made me cry! Actually makes me wish Eren pulls some time travel shit so that we can have our girl back.
Can I just say I find it funny, and I really love Pieck regardless, it is just a last name after all.
Good, but the former-enemy to friendly-pie-eating turnover rate was wayyyyy too fast!
I thought this chapter was it for Connie, who has been one of my favorites since the beginning. It was a bit sudden but I'm glad him not feeding Falco to his mom is Canon AND that it strengthened his bond with Armin.
It feels like none of the Jeagerists really see clearly what the situation is, or at least don't have an ounce of understanding or sympathy why everyone else is scared and freaked out by what has happened. That in turn makes it harder for non-Jeagerists to act with sympathy, what a vicious cycle.
What bothers me the most is not the way Mikasa interacted with Louise, but the fact that she wanted the scarf back. On a symbolic level, she left it behind a few chapters ago, which meant that she no longer put Eren first and started thinking about herself. She recognized that her bond with Eren was severed. So why take that scarf back now, when it's not supposed to have that much importance anymore?
I can see either the next chapter or the one after showing a flashback of Jean, Armin, and Mikasa discussing that plan. Cutting some parts of a scene and showing it in the following chapter or two is usually an Isayama thing to do.
I don't know why everyone's expecting every single piece of exposition to be laid out for them like meeting minutes. This isn't the first time we've understood what's been going on behind the scenes after the fact.
At the start Connie struggles to hold his emotions, and suddenly he's a hero, cheesy and cliche
Excuse me but can we stop making Gabi involved in everything? Shes so OP at this point
I loved the mockery of the cliche superhero assemble bullshit
STARDUST CRUSADERS
The cringe made me develop a permanent seizure. Also both my eyeballs are still stuck in the back of my head because of the excessive force I used trying to roll my eyes.
The team-up should have been given more time to develop. It wasn’t all bad though.
X-Men on their way to stop Magneto (Eren)
The problem does not lie so much in the pace as in the script tension, which Isayama killed a little in this chapter but intentionally I think. I mean the guys are literally sleeping and eating like it was a party during the freaking end of the world, do you really think he would have let such a thing slip out of clumsiness?
I'm pretty sure that Levi will have the role of "Helos", and Hange his 'Tybur' collaborator, because she's holding a hammer like the guy/girl next to Helos during the play (ch99).
Not the usual quality.
8/10. I liked annie's reunion the best, but wish that hitch had more characterization and wasn't written out so quickly. Ragako subplot was fine but predictable. Louise subplot kinda boring. Avengers assemble at the end was very anime and I liked it.
A peaceful chapter before the storm
A thought: What if Ackermans are the only ones able to actually kill off the Nine Titans? We know they’re byproducts of titan science, maybe they were created to annihilate them? That’d be devastating to see Levi or Mikasa kill Eren and Armin. I’d love it. 😂
Annie is the best girl
Anyone pretending this chapter wasn't utter shit is in hardcore denial.
Did not like the assemble. Nobody can forget what happened in the recent past of Paradis and what the warriors did. But have hope in Isayama
Do Gabi and Falco know that Armin is the Collosal Titan? I thought Connie might let that slip to them and it might create tension between Gabi and Armin but.... No. Everything about that subplot was insanely rushed, there were a lot of ways it could have played out.
Aforementioned last page quote that is so unlike SnK up to this point. Cringey and straight out of an Avengers movie, I can't believe there are people who actually like this development.
I hope Isayama isn't overworking and rushing himself to finish the manga just for the sake of finishing it this year, but I still believe he will finish SnK in a satisfactory manner that will be memorable for decades. However, this chapter as well as 125 were very disappointing and lowered my expectations considering how good the entire final arc had been up to this point.
Errrwiiiiiiiinnnn!!!!!
game of thrones level of trash, i hope for god that the aot ending isn't as bad as final season game of thrones
I didn’t like the Ragako subplot, but I did like Connie saving Armin and their heart-to/heart afterwards.
I don’t think the chapter was rushed. Glad to see Armin finally doing SOMETHING, and I hope it was more a gamble than him wanting to die. Hange’s monologue was so out of character, everyone knows Hange would never want to live in the woods, yet it looks like Hange always  gets discouraged and needs encouragement from somebody else. Seriously, that’s not the Hange we all know. Where’s the ‘defeat is all the Survey Corps ever knew, let’s kick asses!!’ Hange?? that interaction with Pieck brought some of it back thankfully
I don’t understand why everyone is complaining lol
I enjoyed how quickly it moved. We’ve been down in the doldrums since December, so I’m glad to see the characters & the pace picking back up again.
I hate how quickly Hanji becomes depressed. Armin, Jean - they overcame their doubts by themselves. Yet Hanji always needs someone else to tell them to stop being ridiculous. It’s like Levi is babysitting Hanji :/ I miss good, old, badass Hanji
I miss hitch already
I noticed that the way Floch gesticulates during his speech was very reminiscent of how Hitler gave his speeches
I really like Hanji and Levi’s friendship and how Levi always knows what to say to encourage his friends but can we please stop with Hanji being so emotionally weak? I love Hanji, but c’mon- Levi was seriously injured and still needs to treat Hanji like she’s a wounded kid. Jean came to his senses on his own, same for Armin and Mikasa. All they needed was to remember people who died, did Hanji not lose enough comrades to find her strength from? Hanji is one of two veterans left and the commander(!), it really hurts to see her so pathetic, that was hard to read. Glad she looks more like old Hanji at the end of the chapter
I wanted more Annie and Hitch adventures and feel deprived.
i wish there was more to the reunion of Annie & co, but whatever, let’s just move on with this plot.
I'm in the minority here, but I actually liked the chapter. Sure the pacing was a bit off, but this may be because we're getting a detailed explanation for it in an upcoming chapter. Other than that I find it somewhat amusing that so many people that a team-up wasn't happening. Like there was so much goddamned FORESHADOWING about it. Plus the fact that Isayama basically flat-out admitted that he was going to create a team-up a-la Guardians of the Galaxy. I'm not expecting roses and fluffiness at the end of the road, I see a lot of people dying. And I still don't know who's gonna be the victor at the end. It just seemed really clear to me where these character arcs were/are heading. I still have faith in Yams. He hasn't disappointed me yet, so let's just see what he has in store for us.
It feels like Isayama is rushing to finish it off just like Kishimoto did with Naruto Shippuuden and that makes me very sad. I'm worried he'll destroy everything he did until now.
It felt incredibly unrealistic. What I have appreciated most about SnK is its narrative integrity and ability to produce results proportional to the protagonists' abilities. Currently, this feels rather forced. When did they come up with these plans? How could they possibly have alerted Jean ahead of time without anything being shown? It feels like a cheat. Also, I don't like that its just them going after Eren. Realistically, in SnK, a small group of characters, even with their level of power, shouldn't consider going after him how they have. If anything they need to face reality and prepare for the world to come after the rumbling, since if I think anybody in their position would think it is utterly impossible to stop it.
I feel like the pacing of the chapter was this fast so that Isayama could end with the "Avengers Assemble" scene as the big volume cliffhanger for the next one, so he tried to get through the events quickly to give it that poetic ending. In that case, it's possible Isayama might show how some of these events unfolded in the next chapter or two; he usually does that kind of thing when showing big events for the first time. If the next chapter fleshes some of the scenes from this chapter more like showing Jean discussing the Avengers' plan with Mikasa and Armin, I think that could make this chapter better when we look back on it.
It was warm and fuzzy and I really needed that, but the actual details of the new alliance will absolutely need to be expounded upon soon.
It was...fine.
It wasn’t so bad, the hate is really annoying.
It's clear SNK is ending soon so before we see Eren and what else is going on with the rumbling Hisayama wants to close plots with other characters BUT IMO the price of this is giving us less hyped chapters since the walls broke and we still have to see the new Eren titan form…
Just to clarify, "Which throwback did you enjoy most chapter" is intended to be an English sentence, yes? Quality work here as usual, tumblr/reddit big-shots. I hope no one lets you guys near an actual workplace where what you do matters. (A/N: Well you didn't capitalise Tumblr or Reddit so who is the real villain here?)
Let Levi kill that ape. Please. He’s gone through so much and lost everything. Give him just this one little thing
Let's say we generally agreed that this chapter is bad.
Not nearly as bad as people say it was like Jesus heck calm down. I mostly feel bad for isayama tbh he’s probably being pressured to wrap it up and he’s not usually one to not give moments like this chapter proper time.
It's hard to say why Isayama decided to wrap up things fairly quickly, whether he has later flashbacks planned or whether he was overwhelmed with time pressure/suffered a writer's block of whatever. I think, in the end, if the rest of the story wraps up strong, it doesn't matter much.
I'm happy with what happened in this chapter, except the fact that it was rushed and Levi's plot armor, I mean Ackermann blood. He should have lost at least a leg...
The only solace I take in all of this is that the plot can finally move forward. This has been an entire volume of seemingly pointless side quests and I'm ready to focus again on the main story. Frankly, I'm exhausted. I just want answers and I want to know how the story finds resolution.
We had several excellent chapters recently, a subpar one is understandable. Hopefully the Anime will expand on it a bit
57 notes · View notes
ayankun · 4 years
Text
Agents of SHIELD Season 1 Rewatch Update
Ok so I’m having a difficult time remembering what it was that made me hate this show so much (aside from the unforgivable Minecraft reference) and stop watching in Season 1.
Just got through ep 14 and holy cow, I’m honestly not sure whether the storylines for seasons 2, 3, and 4 were planned this far in advance, but if they were then these folks did such an overwhelmingly good job of keeping their eye on the ball.
Best I can figure, I’m having a good time on this attempt thanks to prequel-goggles.  I already know where this story is going, who these people will become and what’s going to make them into what they will be, and I can appreciate this older storyline in light of the circumstances it precedes -- rather than for what it is without that context. 
(It certainly helps that some of the dumber stuff is already starting to be replaced by the better stuff, like it’s ep 15 and the “night-night gun” was just replaced by the much more palatable “icer,” and they haven’t tried to call the individual dwarves by name for ages now)
Also there’s some pretty good cinematography, the graphics are really respectable, watching this found family slowly realize how much they love each other is sooo charming, and the affectations required of a MCU-spin-off-sci-fi-spy-show are really well balanced with the character drama which is its true heart.
I know ep 1x08 (”The Well”) is six and a half years old so maybe spoiler warnings are not necessarily required but here we go
Remember when Thor 2 came out and then this show had to earn its stripes as co-existing in the MCU so they had to address the fact that aliens ripped up London and the whole world knows about it?
Not being able to afford the likes of Chris Hemsworth was something they obviously had to work around, and plopping in that rando dweeby Asgardian as a twist was definitely one way to do it. 
But the real showstopper is that the through-line of the episode is the examination of the similarities and differences of Ward and May, especially once they both come in contact with the Asgardian rage-stick.
Seeing Ward nearly incapacitated by his traumatic childhood memories serves two important purposes.  First, it makes some good strides towards humanizing the man, who until now has been that hot-and-cocky kind of character that just expects to appeal to an audience but hasn’t yet earned any appeal whatsoever.  By now, we’ve had a reference to his toxic dynamic with his older/younger brothers, and seeing him reliving his experience with the well suddenly opens him up and gives some dimension to that tall-dark-handsome cardboard cutout.
Second, those experiences are a really good twist!!  When it’s revealed that he’s not remembering being tortured in a well by his brother, he’s remembering allowing his brother to torture his other brother down a well and not having the guts to do anything about it.  It’s a good one-two punch because you weren’t expecting to pity the guy, and now that you’ve spent twenty minutes pitying him for being victimized, you get to grapple with the much more complex emotion of the kid!Ward not knowing how to get out of this lose-lose situation and understanding that his current character must be in some way informed by this regret and guilt.
THIRD, after seeing Ward go through all this and barely hold it together, we get to see how May handles this level of relive-your-worst-trauma-and-incinerate-yourself-with-unbridled-rage when she has to pick up the rage-stick and .... instead of it leaving her on the ground like it’s just done to Ward, she somehow experiences 0.00000% change in personality or capability WhatSoEver.
She not only isn’t affected, she summons all the broken pieces of rage-stick and effortlessly wields the fully formed berzerker staff to defeat the rest of the baddies single-handed.  It says so much about her character, about the depths of the trauma that sent her to the place we met her in in the pilot.  We still don’t know what happened, but this her “my secret is I’m always angry” moment, and it’s a  level of anger has been repeatedly and thoroughly cataloged throughout the episode so far.
It also gives these fools something to bond over.  And while I’m seriously disinterested in their weird little Thing that didn’t go anywhere and didn’t really impact much, it was a nice way to avoid progress in the “Skye’s falling for her SO” storyline that I don’t care for either.
But Skye makes her move in this episode!  She and Ward dance around the possibility that maybe they’re into each other and they could possibly move from antagonistic strangers to folks who are a little into each other.  But he does the gentle thing and turns her down! (without closing the door entirely, I must add)  And then he wanders off on his own and ... May’s wandering off on her own ... and they share some micro expressions and then, seriously you guys this sequence is so tasteful and understated, just look:
Ward leaves Skye at the bar with a parting “I’m beat, another time, maybe,” and off her wistful look we cut directly to this chiaroscuro hallway.
Tumblr media
Ward enters the frame, starts unlocking his hotel room. He's just another monochrome shape in this monochrome place.
Tumblr media
But then there’s May entering the shot at the far end of the hallway, and her motion and his turning to look at her frames her monochrome shape in this nice little white triangle between him and her door.
Tumblr media
And there’s a tasty little rack focus that pulls the instant she passes in front of the door, making sure our attention is on her and the little white label of her bottle that really pops in the sea of black.
Tumblr media
By this point in time, we’ve been shown, graphically, intimately, a dark shadow in his past, and we’ve been shown the physical and emotional toll its taken on him (an insight provided by the magic alien macguffin, btw).  We haven’t been told anything, we experienced his experiences with him via the power of cinema.  Her specific trauma is still a mystery at this point, but we’ve been given enough information to understand and appreciate its effects on her character.  So not only can we sympathize with Ward now, we can sympathize with his empathy for May in this moment.  
Tumblr media
She catches him looking.
Tumblr media
I mentioned micro expressions and screenshots do not do these performances justice.  How does one catch in a single frame the millisecond that an eyebrow ticks in asking a silent question?
Tumblr media
Typical for her, May’s answer is also communicated through body language.
Tumblr media Tumblr media
From that canted, inviting look, we pan down as she unlocks her door and enters.  She passes through the frame and disappears inside, after giving us a reminder that her plans are to apply alcohol to her issues.  (Remember that Ward turned down Skye’s invitation at a bar of all places)
Tumblr media
Oh, and what has our framing left us to contemplate?  Is that a bed I see in there?  (Remember that Ward turned down Skye’s invitation)  Let me point out that this shot of just the bed after May walks by is on screen by itself for maybe a fraction of a second.  Just a suggestion of a thing, really.
Tumblr media
Ward contemplates.
Tumblr media Tumblr media
I love returning to this shot because it’s literally the same set up, and my instant reaction is that it’s another insert, a POV shot, and I fully expect to return to the single shot on Ward to discover his decision the second he makes it.
Tumblr media
INSTEAD.  Ward walks immediately into THIS FRAME, too, black-shape-on-white-shape in the same way May was introduced to this scene.  And we stay here as he closes the door behind him ...
Tumblr media
Letting us know everything we need to know without a single word needing to be spoken.
Tumblr media
Another fraction of a frame dwelling on that shot and then immediately fade to black.  Credits.  Show’s over, folks.
Tumblr media
And not that there’s any particular meaning in it, but they were super careful to minimize what colors were allowed to appear in this sequence?  Like there’s a particular sort of green in that weird armchair, which sort of matches the green-glass of her bottle.  And there’s the red of the fire alarm fixtures which more or less matches the red of his, y’know, fresh facial wounds.  EVERYTHING else (other than, I guess, their skin tones) falls somewhere along the white-black spectrum.  NICE.  BEAUTIFUL.  I LIKE IT A LOT.
And the Netflix synopsis for this episode is “In the aftermath of the events chronicled in the feature film Thor: the Dark World, Coulson and the S.H.I.E.L.D. team try to pick up the pieces.”  1) I’m realizing that they literally go around picking up pieces of the rage-stick and that’s hilarious but mostly I mean to say 2) this MCU-tie-in episode could have met the brief being as vapid and non-impactful as that blurb makes it sound.  But it took the opportunity to open up its characters for us to see their gooey insides, and hell they picked two of the best characters to dig into for this one, considering Ward’s tragic backstory plays as both a misdirect and actual inciting incident for his betrayal of SHIELD, and May’s tragic backstory feeds a couple of B-plots this season as well as being the major catalyst for a lot what happens in season FOUR.  SEASON FOUR, PEOPLE.  THE SEEDS ARE WAY BACK HERE IN SEASON ONE.
REMEMBER HOW THESE CHARACTERS WERE INTRODUCED THOUGH??  I DO, I JUST WATCHED THE PILOT LIKE YESTERDAY.  WE MEET WARD FULLY ENSCONCED IN HIS GUISE OF SHIELD BADASS SUPERSTAR; HE IS LITERALLY ASKED TO EXPLAIN WHAT SHIELD MEANS TO HIM, AND WE GET TO HEAR THE FIRST OF HIS MANY LIES.  WE MEET MAY IN HER OWN PERSONALLY-DESIGNED WHITE-COLLAR HELL, TURNING COULSON’S OFFER DOWN THE SECOND SHE HEARS HIS VOICE BECAUSE SHE’D RATHER STAPLE DOCUMENTS FOR ETERNITY THAN BE OUT IN THE FIELD WHERE SHE CAN MAKE ANOTHER MISTAKE LIKE THE ONE SHE CAN’T FORGIVE HERSELF FOR.
I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again.  This show knows how to weave a character-driven story, and it’s done it for six seasons straight, juggling constantly evolving -- grounded, nuanced, impactful -- character arcs with the external factors (Thor: The Dark World, for one) that force certain narrative decisions.
(until they decide to ignore those factors altogether, lol, I’m looking at you, season 5, you wacky maverick you)
15 notes · View notes
bamon4bamily · 5 years
Text
TVD 9x03 (part 1) Enjoy! =)
Cut to - Bonnie in some sort of astral projection; seems as though she is floating in the universe. It’s peaceful and overwhelmingly beautiful.
Tumblr media
GRAMS: Hey kid, what are you doing here?
BONNIE: Grams? Where are you? I can’t see you…
GRAMS: I know...
BONNIE: Is this peace?
GRAMS: Not exactly…
BONNIE: Where am I?
GRAMS: You are everywhere, and nowhere… There is no time or space “here” … it is and it’s not at the same time, everything is a possibility, a potential reality… Sounds crazy, I know.  
BONNIE: Why are you here?
GRAMS: I’m not. You and I have a psychic bond, no matter where, when or what we are, we will always be connected. Now, listen to me Bonnie, you need to go back.
BONNIE: But it’s so beautiful… I feel free, at peace. Why would I want to go back?
GRAMS: It’s not what you think. You don’t belong “here” Bonnie, not yet, you need to go back…
BONNIE: But I deserve to be free, feel peace, don’t I?  
GRAMS: You do, and so much more. But not like this…
BONNIE: What do you mean?
GRAMS: It chose you for a reason…
BONNIE: I don’t understand...
GRAMS: It had to be you, Bonnie. Embrace it and go back … now!
BONNIE: I’ve never felt like this grams… I don’t want to go back!
GRAMS: You have to… I’m really sorry for doing this but look… (shows her a vision of a devastated world, over half of the population is dead, aftermath of the physic blast she generated after the linking spell).
BONNIE: Oh, no, no, no! What is this? Grams, did I do this?
GRAMS: Not officially… that’s why you need to go back.
BONNIE: But how?
GRAMS: I told you, it chose you for a reason … you are linked now and forever.
BONNIE: I, I don’t understand, why me? …
GRAMS: Trust me, you will… You are the only one that can… it is who you are meant to be…
BONNIE: But grams, I’m…
GRAMS: I know, but you need to be strong, believe in yourself, you can handle anything, that is why you are the chosen one. Your soul, child, is unique… you are meant for things beyond our comprehension; I knew it the first moment I held you in my arms. You, Bonnie Sheila Bennet, are one of a kind, and sometimes, that can be overwhelming and difficult to understand.
BONNIE: I didn’t ask for this… this isn’t fair…
GRAMS: It might not be, but trust me, when you come to terms with this, you will understand why it was meant to be. But be careful, you are connected to everything now, don’t let it control you… Now, come on, go before it’s too late… I’m so proud of you Bonnie Bennett… you truly are exceptional. You know I love you and will always keep an eye on you… Oh, one last thing Bonnie, they can sense you are here, and many will try to catch a ride back with you…
BONNIE: Who? What? Grams, what are you saying?! Wait grams, don’t go… Grams? Grams!
 Cut to – the cave. Bonnie opens her eyes. As she is coming into consciousness, Darius and the hooded people disappear. She sees the twins, the students, and Damon, still lying on the ground.
 BONNIE: (Runs to the twins) Girls? Girls? (the twins wake) Are you O.k?
LIZ & JOSIE: (Hug her really tight) Aunt Bonnie!!
LIZ: (Still very confused) What happened?
BONNIE: Let’s just say we had a bad dream.  
JOSIE: Where is mommy?
BONNIE: Don’t worry girls, we’ll find her. (Sees Damon is still lying motionless on the ground, goes to him).
BONNIE: Damon? Damon? Wake up… (slowly starts to react)
DAMON: Bonnie?
BONNIE: One and only… (Damon gives her a smirk).
DAMON: Are you O.k?
BONNIE: I’m fine, you?
DAMON: Fine I guess… thought I was a goner… what happened?
BONNIE: Weird story, best told over a bottle of bourbon.
DAMON: I like the way you think. Wait… am I still a…
BONNIE: You are… but hey, look at the bright side, this means I won’t out drink you anymore… (smirk).
JOSIE: Aunt Bonnie…they (referring to the students) are not waking up… (Bonnie rushes to help, they don’t respond. Damon gives them his blood, no response).
BONNIE: Please, wake up, wake up…
DAMON: Bon… they are gone…
BONNIE: No, they can’t be, I came back… I’m here, they should be alive…
DAMON: I’m so sorry Bon, there is nothing more we can do…
BONNIE: But, they were supposed to…
DAMON: I know… we will figure this out, I promise. (Hugs her).
Tumblr media
Alaric, Elena, Radka, and Sergei come in, looking quite confused.
 LIZ & JOSIE: Daddy!!! (They rush to hug him)
ALARIC: Girls!! Oh my god, are you O.k?
LIZ & JOSIE: We are fine daddy. Where is mommy?
ALARIC: Not sure… we’ll find her, girls… (looks at Bonnie and Damon) Are you guys O.k? What the hell happened? All I can remember is arriving at the cave, heard Bonnie’s voice, then I blacked out, woke up in a cell with these guys (referring to Radka, Sergei, and Elena) …
ELENA: Bonnie! (hugs her). Are you O.k?
BONNIE: I’m fine; you?
ELENA: Bit light headed, but fine.
ALARIC: Bon, can you fill us in?
BONNIE: Ric, we’ll talk about it later, we need to deal with something else right now… (shows them the student’s bodies, Sergei and Radka run to them).
RADKA: (Devastated) They are dead Ric… (Alaric consoles her). How did this happen?
DAMON: Listen, please, let’s just focus on handling this situation, it’s been crazy enough at is.
 Matt and Caroline walk in, also looking dazed and confused.
 BONNIE: Care! Matt!
LIZ & JOSIE: Mommy!! (They run to hug her)
CAROLINE: (Crying) Thank god you are alright!! I thought I lost you…
MATT: Is everyone alright?
ALARIC: Not everyone… (shows him the bodies).
MATT: Oh my god… they did it…
ALARIC: What are you talking about Matt?
MATT: The source… the link… the sacrifice… They did it… but then…
DAMON: Donovan, you ain’t making much sense, why don’t we drop the crazy talk and deal with this situation (pointing to the students).
MATT: I’ll handle it. You guys need to leave…
RADKA: I’m not leaving my students.
MATT: Radka, please, this is official Police business now, I’ll take it from here. I really need all of you to go, right now.
BONNIE: Matt, are you sure?
MATT: Bon, please, trust me on this…
ALARIC: Listen, everyone, this has been a lot for all of us. Matt says he’ll handle it, he’ll handle it. Let’s go.
Cut to - the Salvatore mansion, later that night. Damon is in the living room having a bourbon. Doorbell rings, Damon opens the door…
 STEFAN: Hello, brother.
DAMON: (Drops his glass) Stefan?
STEFAN: In the flesh…
DAMON: What?! How?!
STEFAN: I'm guessing, beauty of Bonnie magic…
DAMON: Brother!! Arrr!! (Hugs him like there is no tomorrow)
Tumblr media
 Caroline comes down the stairs in her pajamas, looking pissed and sleepy.
 CAROLINE: Damon! I swear, if you are having one of your secret get togethers, I’m going to kill… (sees Stefan, goes into shock, her eyes all teared up, starts rambling and talking to herself) Am I dreaming again? Caroline, wake-up! (Smacks herself) Wait, why is Damon in my dream? O.K, it’s official, I’ve gone insane, one flew over the coocoo’s nest! Oh my god! Who is going to take care of the girls?! Alaric will go as crazy as I am!... PMS, sweet sixteen’s, prom, boyfriends, heartbreak, college, marriage, kids…  
STEFAN: Care…
CAROLINE: Damon, if this is a practice “get in your head” revamp run, stop…
DAMON: Trust me, it’s not.
CAROLINE: Stefan?
STEFAN: It’s me…
CAROLINE: (Caroline runs into his arms, kisses him, crying hysterically) Stefan! Oh my god! This can’t be real! Is this real?!!
STEFAN: It is… (caresses her hand, they hug and kiss again)
Tumblr media Tumblr media
 Bonnie walks down the stairs, also in her pajamas, also looking sleepy.
 BONNIE: Damon! If Caroline finds out that you are having one of your secret… (sees Stefan) What the…
STEFAN: Hey Bonnie…
BONNIE: Stefan? What? How? This isn’t real… this can’t be real… is this real? Oh god, I’m going mental… (the others laugh given the similarities between their reactions).
DAMON: Its real Bon… might be crazy, but it’s very real.
BONNIE: But… how?
STEFAN: I have absolutely no idea…
DAMON: This definitely merits breaking into our oldest bottle of bourbon! (goes to get the bottle).
CAROLINE: Am I really not dreaming? (Pinches herself) How is this possible?
STEFAN: Don’t ask me, I’m as confused as you are…
BONNIE: This is a lot to process…  I really need a drink for this to sink in…
STEFAN: I think we all do…
 Damon comes back with the bottle, then suddenly drops it.
 STEFAN: Seriously Damon, our oldest bottle? (Damon signals him to turn around).
KATHERINE: I think it’s going to take more than one drink for this one to sink in Bonnie. Oh, and thanks for the uber pool, hope you don’t mind I charged it to your account.
DAMON: Katherine…
Tumblr media Tumblr media
KATHERINE: Ding, ding, ding! Alive, and looking fine! (To Damon and Stefan) Boy, do I have a bone to pick with you two! But not tonight, I’m exhausted, and I need my beauty sleep. Don’t mind me, I’ll leave you to your little sob fest and pick myself a room (she walks upstairs).
CAROLINE: Are you freakin kidding me?! I just got Stefan back and the crazy bitch comes along for the ride?! Oh, hell no!
BONNIE: My grams warned me about this…
CAROLINE: What do you mean, Bonnie?
BONNIE: When I was on my psychedelic trip, she spoke to me. Told me I was linked to everything and that “some” might try to catch a ride back… (looks at Stefan) … guessing this is what she was talking about? Stefan, what do you remember?
STEFAN: All I remember is waking up in the tunnels, very much alive… feeling like I had just woken up from the weirdest dream…
DAMON: Do you remember how you…
STEFAN: Died? Not really; literally just flashes of you, Katherine, fire…?
DAMON: Oh brother, we have a lot to talk about…
CAROLINE: We do, but not tonight Damon, we don’t want to overwhelm him.
STEFAN: Yes, I think it’s best to take it one step at a time.
DAMON: What about Katherine? We can’t just let K-zombie be our new roomie…
CAROLINE: Over my dead body! Bitch is gotta go!
STEFAN: Guys listen, I’m still in a somewhat “Meet Joe Black” kind of trance. Why don’t we get another bottle of bourbon, and just chill out and talk? We’ll deal with Katherine, and whatever “this” is tomorrow. I just want to enjoy this moment, and make sure it’s not only in my mind...
DAMON: Agreed; too many ghosts of future past for the night. I’m just pissed we lost our best bottle of bourbon on that nine lives devil cat!
BONNIE: Oh, I can fix that (reassembles the bottle with her powers)
STEFAN: Bonnie, that’s amazing! How on earth did you do that?
BONNIE: Long story Stefan; like you said, let’s leave the deep conversations for another night, O.K?
STEFAN: I’m down with that.
DAMON: Brother, (puts his glass up for a cheer) to a very surreal, night of the living dead, freakishly, yet wonderful, reunion… (cheer is interrupted by the door opening)
LEXI: I’ll drink to that…
STEFAN: Lex, you made it! (Hugs her).
LEXI: Sure did, wasn’t gonna pass on this opportunity.
DAMON: Lex! Bring it here (opens his arms for a hug).
LEXI: I might be fuzzy on the facts, Damon, but I am pretty sure you are the reason I ended up on the other side… Plus, I still hate you, so, just pour me a drink, no sis hug from me.
Tumblr media
DAMON: Harsh Lex…
LEXI: I will, however, give this absolutely amazing woman (referring to Bonnie) a hug. (Hugs Bonnie) I am forever grateful to you…
BONNIE: I’m happy to see some of the good ones caught the ride...
LEXI: Caroline, happy to see you too (hugs her), now it’s your turn to take care of him (referring to Stefan).
CAROLINE: I will, thank you for being there for him… You are welcome to stay with us as long as you want.
LEXI: Thank you, maybe I’ll take you up on that later, need to visit some people before I settle in, so, just stopping by for now, but I’ll be back. (Damon hands her a drink). Bottoms up, guys!
 They cheer, talk and drink. At one moment during the night, Stefan and Damon go sit on the roof to have a bro moment.
 DAMON: I can’t believe this is real… You are actually here… You are alive…
STEFAN: Well, given everything we have been through, wouldn’t be the craziest thing to come our way.
DAMON: Good point… I’ve come back once or twice myself, which is why I know it can be overwhelming … you really O.k, bro?
STEFAN: I’m more than O.k, I got a second chance... to live the life I wanted to live, to be with the woman I love… I don’t how Bonnie did it, but I will forever be in debt to her.
DAMON: Well, Bonnie is truly amazing…
STEFAN: She most definitely is… So, tell me, Damon, now that it’s just you and me, how have you been? You look happy. Guessing things are going well with Elena and the human life… I’m glad you finally got to live your happily ever after. Where is Elena anyway?
DAMON: Oh, brother… I really need to bring you up to speed… listen, we can take days with this conversation, so let me give you the cliff notes… There is no more Elena and me, there is no more human life…
STEFAN: Wait, what?! But that’s all you ever wanted, Damon, what you practically “lived” for…
DAMON: That’s what I thought I wanted… but if we are going to be completely honest, you and I both know that it was actually what Elena wanted … you even tried to point this out to me. Remember your little mind trip? But as usual, I didn’t listen.
Tumblr media
STEFAN: Good point…  Got to say, its’ quite ironic that after everything neither of us ended up with Elena, and, that she was actually the one that brought us together, the reason we found our soulmates…
DAMON: Preach it, brother…
STEFAN: So, when did you and Bonnie …
DAMON: Wow, wait, what!? (nervous rambling) It’s not like that, I mean, I know it can seem like… but no, I mean she, I… (Stefan smiles, Caroline, conveniently for Damon, peeks her head through the window interrupting the conversation).
CAROLINE: Hey! Sorry, am I interrupting a bro love moment? I can come back later…
DAMON: Oh no Care, you are actually just in time!
CAROLINE: For what?
DAMON: (Has to pull something out of his hat) Uhmm, well… party planning of course!
CAROLINE: What party?
DAMON: Uhmm… well a welcome back/reunion/Halloween party, of course! Stefan and I thought it would be a great idea, (to Stefan) am I right, brother?
STEFAN: (Sarcastically) Sure! Even thought of the perfect theme: Night of the living dead…
CAROLINE: Oh my god, it’s perfect! Yes, yes, yes!! Except, there is no way in hell I’m leaving planning responsibilities to Damon, so roles will go like this: Stefan and I will be on coordination duty, Damon and Bonnie on booze and decorations, Alaric & Radka on food, Matt and Khuyana on entertainment… well after we tell them you are alive, of course… Halloween isn’t for another week, so we have time… Anyway, we are doing shots for each time someone has died and come back, so, get your asses in here cause we are getting pretty smashed.
 They continue to cheer, talk, and at one point even drunk dance, through the night…
To be continued... 9X03 (part 2) coming very soon, I promise!! =) 
24 notes · View notes
gaycrouton · 5 years
Note
I’d love to see 3 from the prompt list!
I’m moving through my prompts sporadically, but know I’m getting to them all! Here’s #3, “This isn’t what it looks like.”
Scully had honestly probably seen more evidence of aliens than she had seen Mulder voluntarily take a vacation in all seven years of being his partner. Because of this, as soon as he asked if she could feed his fish and grab his mail while he was away, she was more than willing to help him out. He deserved it.
And a vacation for him meant a vacation for her.
Apparently there was some sort of rock and roll laser show a few towns over and he wanted to take the weekend and go see it. The details were lost on her through his unrestrained enthusiasm. It’s heavy metal and a light show combined, Scully. Come on it’s every boy’s fantasy. He’d valiantly tried to convince her to come along, sparing her from missing out on the opportunity of a lifetime, but she declined regardless. It was going to be a weekend of reading, rest, and relaxation.
Or so she intended. After a few hours of solitude on Friday, that pesky feeling she’d been trying to dampen down for months came back. She missed him. She liked to blame it on being attached to his side for years that made her sentimental at his absence, but she knew it was more. No matter how much that scared her.
She knew she wouldn’t have to deal with this much longer though, as she slipped her key into his lock, she reveled at the fact it would be the last time. It was finally Sunday, and he said he would be coming back later in the evening. Scully let herself in, closed the door behind her, and tossed the keys onto an end table. There was always something comforting about Mulder’s apartment. She presumed it was because it was filled with his personal belongings, his scent, and their personal memories. It made her feel close to him. She couldn’t remember when that started being so important to her. As she did her little chores, she wanted to help clean just a little to be nice, so she turned on his sound system and listened to the Led Zepplin CD he had in for background noise.
She fed the fish and took a good look at the apartment. It was cozy, she was honestly surprised Mulder, the man of a thousand gaudy neckties, was able to put this all together to be so welcoming. She’d spent plenty of time here through the years, but it was weird having full domain over the place. She’d been in a hurry the past two days, a date with her mother and a pap smear respectively made her rush, but today she’d just gotten out of church and had all the time in the world.
She bit her lip as she looked down the hallway leading to his bedroom. It was the one room of the house she hadn’t fully been in and her curiosity was burning. She’d seen glimpses of it, they’d joked about its lack of a bed, but she wanted to see it for herself. The part of her that was slightly hesitant started to melt away when she recalled all the times he’d been in her’s throughout the years. Fair is fair.
She strode down the hall and pushed the wooden door open to reveal a normal looking bedroom. Liar. There was a rather large bed in the middle of the room with a mirror over top of it. She wandered in a bit farther and was met with an extremely concentrated waft of Mulder. Based on that and the clothes intermittently strewn around the room, she’d say he actually spent a lot of time there.
There was a vanity in front of the bed that also had a rather large mirror that she stopped in front of. It was odd, seeing her in Mulder’s room, in front of Mulder’s bed. She wished he was here and that he’d invited her into this sacred space. She caught sight of one of his dress shirts laying haphazardly on the bed and she turned around to fully look at it. It was slightly wrinkled and if she had to guess, it was the shirt he wore to the office last time she saw him before he took off. She picked it up and pressed it to her face, inhaling his lingering fragrance on the fabric.
As it was pressed to her face, she felt the tail end of the hem flapping against the skin of her thighs. She turned around and noticed how big the shirt was pressed against her body. Just from the sight alone, she was struck with an intense desire to put it on. There was something about wearing a man’s shirt that was highly erotic to her. Maybe it was seeing physically how much larger he was than herself, maybe it was being engulfed in their clothes, maybe it was because it was just plain hot seeing herself that way. Whatever it may be, it lead her to setting down the shirt and taking her sundress off over her head, placing it on the bed instead. She hadn’t been wearing a bra under the dress since it was so tight and it just added to the sensuality of the situation. Even though it was ridiculous, she found herself checking the door to make sure he wasn’t unexpectedly home, but the only sounds coming from the apartment was an ambient Stairway to Heaven.
Clad in some black underwear and black, thigh-high nylons she was forced to wear because she hadn’t done her laundry, she grabbed the shirt again in excited anticipation. It was already unbuttoned, so she slipped one arm in a sleeve and her other in the next. She turned around to look at herself in the mirror as she buttoned it up. Scully felt herself getting wet as the same fabric that covered Mulder’s chest was grazing against her bare breasts, her nipples hardened peaks against the thin material.
The shirt went down to right above her knees and she was entranced as she watched herself button each clasp shut, just like Mulder had done countless times before her. She only buttoned it up to inbetween the valley of her breast, enjoying the way her creamy collarbones peaked through the opening. She looked at herself in the mirror and indulged in the fantasy she’d created for herself. Would she wear this after making love with Mulder? Would it turn him on to see her wearing his clothes? Would it turn him on so much that he’d fuck her while she was still wearing them?
She silently chastised herself for a moment for being so eager that she didn’t remember how it had been initially on the bed, but then again, Mulder probably wouldn’t think anything of it if the shirt was moved.
She returned her gaze to the mirror and tousled her hair a bit. She was firmly an independent woman, but something about seeing her in his shirt set off something primal in her. It made her feel like she was his and it made her gut coil in arousal at the mere thought. She was his, if only he knew.
Taking a few steps back, she lifted the hem of his shirt so that her underwear were exposed and she could see the inches of upper thigh revealed over the tops of the thigh-highs. She couldn’t help but wonder if it was narcissistic to get turned on looking at oneself, but she decided to blame it on the fantasy of being fucked by Mulder playing in her head instead.
She ended up backing up a little too far and the backs of her legs his the bed and she fell onto her back, immediately met with the sight of herself overhead. This is what Mulder would see if he tossed her on the bed and climbed over her. She crawled up the bed a little so that she was in the middle, her head resting on pillows that made her feel like she pressed her face against Mulder’s hair.
Looking up at herself, she felt sexier than she could ever remember being. She bent her legs so that the pads of her feet were flat on the bed. She raised her hips and lifted the shirt up just a little so that her underwear were visible. Watching herself, she played with the elastic band of her panties, just a little before running the palms of her hands up her body, over the shirt, coming to a resting place over top of her breasts, which she firmly squeezed. A small moan left her lips and she bit her bottom lip to keep herself quiet.
She let her hands lower back down, trailing over her ribs and feeling the heat of her skin through the fabric. Her breath was quickening and she locked into her own gaze in the mirror hungrily, feeling empowered and aroused at the sight of herself in Mulder’s shirt. She got to her exposed midriff and felt the rise and fall of her stomach. She continued playing with the hem of her panties, which were no doubt soaked now. It felt taboo to touch herself on his bed, in his shirt, while thinking of him, but as her fingers dipped below the band and came in contact with her aching core, she didn’t care.
She gasped lightly and let her head fall to the side so she could breath into the pillow next to her and get a better sense of him. She pressed her middle finger onto her clit and she swore she could feel her heartbeat. Scully’s back arched off the bed and a low moan reverberated off the walls of the room.
A moan too low.
Her eyes shot open and she sat upright to see Mulder standing in the doorway, mouth gape and eyes trained on her. Her stomach dropped in mortification and she reached one hand up to clutch the shirt closed as her legs clenched together in a lame attempt at modesty. It felt like time stopped as they just stared at each other. She waited for him to tease her, maybe even berate her, but it didn’t come. Instead she was given a look of pure, intense focus. Overwhelmingly so, that she broke the silence, “T-this isn’t what it looks like.” She was irritated at the choked, throaty way her voice came out.
“What do you think it looks like?” he asked, not taking his eyes off her, especially not leaving the parts of her body covered by the shirt.
She felt her cheeks flame up in embarrassment and she knew he knew exactly what it looked like. What it was. “I can just go. I’m sorry,” she rambled. She slid off the side of the bed and tried to ignore the way her sex was still throbbing.
She grabbed her sundress and tried to make a beeline to the bathroom, but he grabbed her forearm lightly. “Wait.” He didn’t seem angry or disgusted, so she chanced a look over to him, only to see curiosity and lust reflected back at her. It took her breath away.
The shame of being caught red-handed still weighed on her, but his gaze cemented her to the floor. “I just wanted to try on your shirt,” she whispered lamely.
“Why?”
“I-I just wanted to see how big it would be on me, that’s all,” and imagine it was wearing it after a sexual tryst with him.
His eyes raked over her and it felt like an eternity, like he was memorizing every way the shirt fluttered over her body. “And you liked the way it looked so much you crawled into my bed and started touching yourself?” His tone wasn’t accusatory, but it had enough actual questioning in it to let her know she wasn’t going to be able to pretend like it didn’t happen.
The air was thick with tension and she was still having a hard time reading him. She decided to just go with a safe, and honest, “I’m sorry.” She couldn’t look him in the face because she was so embarrassed and because she knew her face was flaming red. Also because a part of her wanted to cry.
The hand not lightly resting on her forearm came up to tilt her chin towards him. This time she saw the look of a lion staring at a lamb, “Why are you sorry?”
Was this a game of twenty fucking questions? “Because you trusted me with your apartment and then I violated your privacy. Mulder, really, I’m sorry. I crossed a line.” She was still turned on from before, and the way his hands felt on her really wasn’t helping. In fact, she felt another gush of arousal seep through her lips, saturating her panties. If she moved she was afraid he’d be able to smell it in the air.
He took a step towards her and she took in a sharp breath. “You didn’t do anything I haven’t dreamed of you doing.” Scully felt her heart stop and she noticed how dilated Mulder’s pupils were. “To be frank, you just fulfilled one of my biggest fantasies, more than one actually,” he whispered, taking another appreciative glance of her body. Then he took a step back, letting her go, and her body almost lurched at him, craving his touch. “But if all it was for you was admiring the shirt, well then, I don’t want to make you uncomfortable by admitting how much it turned me on seeing you like that.”
Her breath quickened and her heart was racing. He just admitted to being turned on. By her. She took a glance down and noticed something she hadn’t before. He was hard. Very hard. Her gaze must’ve lingered a second too long because his voice broke the tension again, with a slightly amused tone this time. “But, it was more than just the shirt. Wasn’t it.”
She just looked at him through hooded lids and nodded. He took a step closer to her and reached a hand out to cup her cheek in the palm of his hand, letting his thumb stroke her skin as he spoke. “We have two options. Option one is that you ask me to give you privacy, I wait in the living room for you to change, you leave, and I’ll never bring this up ever again.” As always, he was giving her an out. A life preserver in the sea she threw herself into. “Or, you ask me to stay and we can continue whatever fantasy it was you were playing in your mind when you decided to touch yourself in my room.” If her heart started beating any faster she swore she might have a heart attack. They’d never spoken their desire out into existence before. No hiding behind a joke, no passing comment, no speculation. This was a real offer, and he was staring her in the face trying to gauge if she’d keep them stagnant or if she’d finally allow them to do what they’ve always wanted.
He took a step closer so that she could feel his body heat radiating off of him, his face leaning down over hers. “But just know that whatever option you choose, I will never forget what I just saw.”
She licked her lips nervously and caught how he focused in on the motion. She knew the option she both wanted her to choose. There really was no competition, one would satisfy them both, the other would just create another layer of sexual tension. She didn’t need to make an x-file out of their relationship. She looked up and him and realized, from the melancholy understanding of his face, he assumed she was going to tell him to go into the living room. She decided to demonstrate her answer to him. They’d said enough already.
Leaning up on her toes, she pressed her mouth to his in a feverous kiss, throwing her arms around him to keep her balance. He was shocked at the suddenness of her movement and he gasped, giving her space to let her tongue enter his mouth. As soon as her tongue glided over his, he came to his senses and returned her ministrations with equal passion and vigor, grabbing her hips in his hands and bringing her body flush to his. Immediately she felt his erection press into her and it made the burning in her lower belly rise to a new intensity.
He took a step forward and it sent her tumbling back on the bed, much like earlier. It caused their kiss to break as she laid panting, watching him above her. He licked his lips as he watched her and it almost made her hips buck involuntarily. He grabbed her from under her armpits and drug her up he bed so that he could join her. He had one knee pressed into her sex as he leaned over her, watching her with unrepentant fascination. She squirmed her body against his knee, desperate to be touched, and he looked like it was the best thing to ever happen to him. As if he was still incredulous that he turned her on.
She clenched her thighs around his leg and continued her gyrations. “I was thinking about you,” she stated, her voice coming out as a breathy, quivering whisper. He pressed his knee farther up and she let out a moan, encouraged by her reaction, he started pressing against her slightly.  The shirt had risen up so it was restig around her waist, so her underwear were on full display as she rubbed against him.
He pressed his mouth to hers once more and she felt his shaky breath flutter across her cheek as he exhaled through his nose. She felt the tent of his pants hit the top of her thigh and, invigorated by his reaction to her, she eased a hand down in between them and cupped him fully, giving him a firm squeeze through the fabric so he knew it was intentional.
His precision with the kiss faltered as he moaned into her mouth and she devoured it into her own, licking, lapping, and nipping at his lips, then his jaw, then his neck.
She felt him reach up and start undoing the buttons of his shirt she wore, kissing each expanse of new skin revealed. Once the last button was undone, he let the flaps fall to the side, but neither of them made any attempt to take it off fully. She was glad to know he was as turned on by it as she was. Instead, he latched his hungry mouth onto her nipple and started suckling, occasonally running his teeth lightly over the rose peak as his other hand kneaded the other breast, switching intermittently.
She could feel his hot breaths come out in pants over her wet skin and it just added to her arousal. After a few minutes, she was a whimpering, quivering mess and she wanted him inside her more than anything. “M-muhlder,” she moaned out, trying to get his attention.
He let go of her nipple with a suctioned pop and looked at her, his cheeks flushed and his eyes wild with desire. “Hmm?”
“I want you,” she requested quietly, thrusting her hips against him to make her point clear.
He didn’t need to be asked twice. He moved away from her and she missed his heat immediately, but she enjoyed getting to watch him whip off his shirt and unbuckle his belt, freeing himself quickly until he was bare and naked in front of her, his cock bobbing and leaking in the air, desperate for her attention.
He hooked his fingers under the waistband of her underwear and looked at her for permission to take them off. She lifted her hips off the bed as an answer and he slid the thin, soaked fabric down her legs, her scent immediately filling the air. He tossed them in his pile of clothes and moved up her body, but he didn’t come up the whole way. Before she could ask what he was doing he pressed his mouth onto her arousal and she felt the personification of heaven.
He hooked his arms around her thighs, keeping her in place as he ate her, his tongue diving and curing into her before he’d swirl around her clit. She looked down at him from in between her legs and was mesmerized at the look of serene contentment adorning his face. His eyes were closed as his jaw worked magic. She threw her head back with one extremely well placed flick of the tongue and watched them in the mirror above them. She could see his back muscles flex and she saw he was lightly humping the mattress as he made love to her with his tongue. It might very well be the hottest thing she’d ever seen, him getting so much pleasure out of giving it to her.
She looked farther up and made eye contact with herself, her breasts were rosy red from his attention and her eyes were glassy from arousal. She felt herself undulating her hips, riding Mulder’s face and for a second she worried he couldn’t breathe, but then he moaned against her and all coherent thought left her mind.
The vibrations travelled into her and pushed her over the edge, she felt her legs tense as her lungs gulped for air. Her hands came down to entangle themselves in Mulder’s hair. She rocked her hips against his face and he helped her ride out her intense orgasm until her legs were actually shaking on his shoulders.
When it had passed over her, she felt like gelatin, all limbs haphazardly strewn on the bed. Mulder gently placed her legs back down as he crawled up her body once more. He kissed her and she wrapped her arms around his neck as she tasted herself on his swollen, talented lips.
At the same time, she felt the head of his cock brush against his opening and he gasped. She opened her eyes and saw him looking down at her with pure adoration. He rocked his hips against her a little more, not so that he plunged into her, but so that his tip parted up and down her lips. “Is this okay?” he asked, trying to read her face for any signs of discomfort.
Maybe it was the euphoric bliss she was feeling mixed with her anticipation of this inevitable union, but she decided to be frankly honest. “Mulder, I love you. I want to be with you. Please.” She whispered, lifting her hand to stroke his cheek fondly and move the strands of hair that were falling into his eyes.
A proud, disbelieving, and grateful smile broke out across his face and she didn’t think it was possible to love him anymore than she did in this moment. He bent down and pressed a sweet, chaste kiss to her lips before drawing back, “I love you too, Scully.”
She beamed back at him before her mouth fell open from the overwhelming sensation of him gliding into her. She was so aroused that he just fit perfectly. She felt so unbelievably, so overwhelmingly full, stretched in the best way possible. Her eyes focused and she saw Mulder biting his lip in restrain before asking, “Am I hurting you?” His question came out in a strained gasp and her heart ached with how gentle and thoughtful he was being with her.
“You feel so good.” She lifted her legs up and interlocked them on his lower back, letting him slide impossibly deeper in. She started thrusting her hips against his and he took the hint, bucking in and out of her heat with more intensity.
She couldn’t believe it. This was actually Mulder. Inside her, filling her, loving her, touching her, for once it wasn’t just her hands masquerading as his. This was real, and it felt better than she could have ever imagined. She was torn between all the visual stimulation. She liked looking at them in the mirror, an omnipotent view of their union. She liked looking in between them and seeing his, impressively large, erection disappearing inside of her, seeing the way her body clung to him. She liked looking at his face, the way his jaw was set and his brow was furrowed, completely overtaken by passion.
As she was looking at his face, she saw him bring one hand to his mouth and lick his fingers. Before she had much of a chance to question it, he dropped the hand down and started circling the digits against her throbbing clit. She let out a loud moan as her eyes practically rolled to the back of her head. “That’s it, Scully,” he moaned, his eyes trained on her heaving form.
He started timing his thrust and his fingers movements so they’d be in tandem and it was too much to bear. She didn’t even have a chance to announce it before her second orgasm ripped through her. “Oh god, fuck Mulder,” she whimpered as her walls clenched around him and her fingernails dug into his shoulders.
“Scully-” he moaned, dragging out the last syllable of her name as the pleasure became too much and he joined her over the edge. He thrust into her hard a few times before diving in her to the hilt, rotating his hips to drag out both their pleasures.
They quivered and quaked against each other’s sweaty bodies for a few moments before he collapsed at her side and tried to regain his breath. She too was heaving as she turned on her side to look at him. He was beautiful, and analyzing her in the same manner, a sated smile gracing his lips.
“The shirt looks a lot better on you by the way.”
194 notes · View notes
soft922-blog · 6 years
Text
Something to take inspiration from: Flaneur
Tumblr media
Flaneur is part literary magazine, part culture journal, part serialized, interdisciplinary art object. The Berlin-based creators describe the publication as a "vessel." Each issue focuses on a specific street in a specific city across the globe, then explores each locale through idiosyncratic interviews, photo essays (with off-kilter layouts), poetry, illustrations, and even more abstract stylistic devices. "I don't think that Flaneur actually really is a magazine," Grashina Gabelmann, the co-editor-in-chief, told me. "I think it's just that we chose to present these streets in the magazine format."
Created in 2013 by Ricarda Messner (now the publisher), Flaneur is about to release its fourth edition, focused on Rome. While past issues have featured streets in vibrant, artist-hubs like Berlin, Leipzig, and Montreal, the Italian capital was a change of pace for Messner, Gabelmann, and Fabian Saul (the other editor-in-chief). Rome is full of history, but the city's present state felt stagnant and dry to the team, as well as the locals they spoke with while putting together this issue. As a result, they picked the most tourist-y and obnoxious street in the ancient city to be its nucleus: Corso Vittorio Emanuele II.
"How cool would it be to take the most annoying street where everyone thinks there's nothing left to discover, and then find something new in it?" explained Gabelmann.
Tumblr media
The Rome issue features a photo essay where two photographers walked down Corso Vittorio separately and documented it with disposable cameras. It also includes an account of an experimental performance piece the editors organized in Italy in which they asked locals to "donate" water to a Roman ruin—the idea being to make the city less dry. But even when heavily conceptual, Flaneur never feels patronizing, nor does it fetishize the cities it focuses on.
I recently talked to Messner and Gabelmann about the newest edition, and how the publication has grown over time. Baudelaire would be proud.
What inspired you to create a magazine? Ricarda Messner: It was always pretty clear to me when I graduated that I always wanted to do something on my own. I never really knew what I would end up doing, but I always just had this feeling that I didn't see myself in this nine to five job. And then I came back from New York and the plan, the love, didn't work out. I was inspired by movies.
I always loved mixing also disciplines with each other, you know? And this is also what the magazine reflects. It has photography, it has architecture, it plays around with different layers. It made sense to me to try the concept with one-street-per-issue in a print format.
What inspired the one-street-per-issue theme? Messner: It had to do with returning to Berlin and rediscovering a town that I never really liked before. New York was my thing, and I always envisioned myself there. Then I was back again in Berlin, and I knew I had to have a closer look at it. I remember that I was looking out the windows at my parents' place a lot because it was so quiet compared to New York. I kept thinking about how my neighbor must have a completely different relationship to the street I spent 12 years of my life living on, and was now staring at out the window once again. And there was something interesting about taking something concrete—literally and figuratively, in this case—but then exploring it through a variety of forms with a sense of freedom. In the end, the street is being used as a storyteller with Flaneur. And that's the thing: When you walk down a street, you can't sum it up.
How has the magazine evolved since it began? Messner: Maybe two weeks ago, G and I sat down to discuss what we're learning from issue to issue—what we're really doing here, or what this thing is. We're realizing more and more that we're not a classic or traditional magazine, and we're also not going to communicate this. It should be clear from opening the front page.
Grashina Gabelmann: We didn't want to go with a travel guide approach where you end every article with a shop listing, address, map, etc. As I got more involved, I realized this was not the direction I wanted to be going in. It's not very interesting, and I think Ricarda felt that way as well. And then when our other editor Fabian came in, Flaneur got its literary twist. Fabian is integral to the conceptual and abstract aspects. He studied philosophy. So he brings in this literary, artistic feel.
Tumblr media
Can you tell me about this upcoming issue, number four in Rome? Gabelmann: Rome was really a strange, unique experience. Berlin and Montreal are cities that have a strong cultural network. There's money and support for artists there, and both attract young people who make art. Leipzig has a weird underdog thing, which I think you can feel by reading our issue on it. But Rome is this ancient city that has such a history of art and culture, and it's really struggling to be modern. It was the first city where we felt that people actually needed our presence—even if that sounds patronizing or dickish.
Messner: Well, we offered some Romans a platform to talk about their home to people outside Rome.
Grashina: Yes, not to belittle anyone, but we did offer this. We organized a performance piece in Rome, and this one man described to us how the city is so fucking boring, so dry, and you can't even touch the ruins. There's no way of interacting with the city. It's like a live, sprawling museum, and Romans feel really trapped, in a way. He said something like, "I really want to turn the city into lakes so we can actually do something with the ruins." And so we said OK, yeah, let's do it.
Within two weeks, we had this performance planned. We printed out all these posters and signs that said something like "Rome is a boring and dry; Romans want water," and put them around the ruins. Then we made a little model—like a mini ruin—and put water in it with fish and had that in front of the ruin. We asked every passerby, "Hey, don't you want this to be a lake? How much water do you want to donate to turn this into a lake?" There was a fountain right next to the lake, so every time someone signed the petition, they had to take water from it and pour it into the ruins to symbolically start the lake. So we got people to pour in water, and then people were wearing bathing suits and towels and it became this public celebration and performance. The reactions from the Italian people who helped us were so overwhelmingly positive. They said, "Hey, we haven't done anything like this in months, or even years. We really haven't had the motivation or drive."
Messner: This project is documented in issue four. We videoed everything, so, we'll have a little documentary online, and an article in print. We'll include the posters and the scribbles and the behind-the-scenes details of creating this performance piece. 
On the back of the book, the abstract or manifesto makes it clear that you guys aren't trying to capture the essence of a street or say, "This is it. This is Rome all summed up." Can you expand on that idea? Messner: You have to have this kind of mentality, because we're not from Rome. We only spent two months in Montreal—and even less time in Leipzig. What can we tell them about their city, after all? It's more about the discussion and the constant exchanged ideas related to an experience in a certain place. The artists who contribute work for Flaneur come from many disciplines and countries, and they are really free to create whatever they want.
How have people from each city responded to the Flaneur issues focused on their homes? Messner: In Leipzig, I felt like the initial response was, "Oh, these hipsters are coming and they're fucking ruining our town." They'd flick through the magazine and say, "Oh, I would have done this differently."
Gabelmann: Well, like, yeah, then you make a magazine. But anyway, their attitude to the final thing really matched our experience in the city. Our actual contributors were super happy with the result, but I think we sold 20 magazines at the launch party—not a big success. I don't know about Rome, but I think they will be proud.
You've had four issues now on four distinctly different streets in four cities. Why did you choose those specific streets in each city? Gabelmann: We had never been to Rome before, so we behaved like newborn children there. It was a very different approach, compared to the Berlin issue, which was very personal. Close to the Coliseum is the old political center of Rome. Basically from there to the river is a main traffic spot and it's busy. It's a street filled with both Romans and tourists all the time. So Fabian and I were in Rome for a week in the summer to find our street, and we had a really difficult time picking one at first.
At the end of the week, we met an architect and he said to us, "Oh, Corso Vittorio has something from every epoch of architecture and it's interesting." And we had no idea which street he was talking about. He replied, "That's impossible, you have to pass that street to go anywhere." We googled it and realized we were on that street three times a day, every day. But since it's so hectic and all the points of interests are on little side streets, we never looked it up and actually took in the street. So that was the initial interest: How can a street that's so busy and so important be that easy to ignore? At first, most Romans were irritated and asked us, why would you choose to represent Rome with that ugly street? And then on second thought, they were like, "Oh, OK, actually that's pretty interesting." Think of it this way: I'd love to do Broadway in New York. How cool would it be to take the most annoying street where everyone thinks there's nothing left to discover, and then focus on that place and find something new in it?
Tumblr media
What do you think has succeeded most about Flaneur so far? Messner: Well, it's independent and I can also give the contributors and designers freedom to come up with crazy things. This is kind of my prime goal as a publisher: to offer this independent platform for these creative people to go wild with, for as long as possible.
Even our designers Michelle Phillips and Johannes Conrad [both of Studio Y-U-K-I-K-O] come to these towns with us, and this is why every issue of Flaneurlooks different. They each have their own design voice, plus you can see that we play with the medium as well—there are fold-outs, different sorts of paper, and various art styles and mediums in each issue that make sense just for that issue.
Gabelmann: I think another big thing is that we don't go to Rome and interview an artist about his work, and then publish some photos of his work that's been in galleries, alongside the interview. But rather, we meet that artist and then come up with a concept with him on the street—like that performance piece—which is specifically conceived for Flaneur.
I always think about one of my first lectures at university where the professor explained that a magazine is just something that holds something. Like, a gun has a magazine case. A magazine is a vessel. I don't think that Flaneur actually really is a magazine. I think it's just that we chose to present these streets in the magazine format.
1 note · View note
furederiko · 7 years
Photo
Tumblr media
He's your friendly neighbourhood Spider-Man...
I initially thought I would not get a chance to see this at the theatres. So I felt somewhat lucky that I've been fortunate enough to see it yesterday, on the first viewing, of its premiere day(although I had to skip the 3D due to the ticket price)! Unfortunately, it wasn't that good of an experience, unpleasant even. I mean, that's what I got when I pre-ordered a ticket late in the game: I had to sit really close to the giant screen. I'm feeling the result now... exhausted watery eyes and stiff neck. Also, it's currently still school holiday, so I was seated between teenagers and kids who... either couldn't stop chomping food loudly, kept asking questions throughout the movie, or... just didn't have proper ethiquette towards older people. Gosh, that awkward moment made me feel really 'old' and 'out of place'. Thankfully, the movie itself was the complete opposite to that annoying real life situation. So in a way, well worth the patience I had to endure during the screening. Okay, enough chit-chat, let's get to the review now!
NOTE: This is a spoiler-free review. At the very least, it was written with that thought and intention in mind. So there's still a possibility that it contains some implicit spoilers. With that said, feel free to proceed cautiously, okay! *wink*
They should've called this SPECTACULAR Spider-Man. Seriously. Because it's indeed one! A movie that felt small and stand-alone, but firmly incorporated the titular character VERY nicely in the Marvel Cinematic Universe. Afterall, that's what 'Homecoming' is all about, right? The movie began following the aftermath of 2012's "The Avengers", it then picked up right in the middle of last year's "Captain America: Civil War" for a brief minutes (featuring some fantastic larger-than-life cameos), before it became its own thing following the conclusion of that amazing Berlin Airport scene. And then several months later...
There's an honest good reason why Marvel Studios appointed Tom Holland as the new Peter Parker. And that's because it's going to be extremely hard to picture anyone else but him to embody both Peter and Spider-Man after seeing this movie. As proven over and over again with their movies, the studio certainly isn't messing around when it comes to casting. Holland IS Peter (not to mention a striking resemblance to young Stan Lee), and that's just one of the key ingredients that made this movie so captivating. There's an earnest youth-innocence exuberating from this version. An excitement that we haven't seen in both Tobey Maguire and Andrew Garfield's version. Not saying both were bad (theirs got pushed to adulthood too soon, I say, thanks to the actors being much older), but this one got the personality of comic book Peter in the most perfect way. Also, have I mentioned that Holland is HOT? He's so easy on the eyes, that I wouldn't doubt his Peter would make anyone (men or women, young or old) swoon. Assuming I got my memory right, I think he and his six-pack were the lenghties shirtless fan-service scene of all MCU movies so far. Thank goodness the actor's 21 years old now, otherwise that sentiment would sound really inappropriate. Pheew!
He's Peter in the most charming and geekiest way. Smart, sweet, sometimes overwhelmingly curious, but also an underdog who is ridiculed at school. Who once again reminded you, that hey, nerds CAN be true heroes too! Yes, that's the best of all! Just like the deepest inner desire that some of us shared, he's just THAT eager to become a hero. He's a dreamer, who looked up to the Avengers, and wanted to do good to be among their ranks. But being 15 years old, a student in a high school, things weren't as easy as one might think. When he has classes and after school programmes, would he even have time to be a crime fighting hero? One that placed his life on the line numerous time, while deep inside, still struggling with the sensibilities and struggles of growing up? That's what this movie succeeded to explore, making it feel... 'different' to the previous MCU movies.
The supporting characters, were also fantastic. Marisa Tomei's May Parker, was more of a sexy older sister than an elderly aunty. It's a modern change that felt just right for her, especially in this era of feminism. But as always, she was also Peter's emotional anchor. Particularly in one scene that... well, I'm not spoiling anything, but let's just say, had Holland showcased his specialty in moving dramatic performance. Those who had seen "The Impossible" would know, that Holland could really made it possible. On the other side of the table, Robert Downey Jr.'s Tony Stark played out as the kind of mentor, big brother, or surrogate father that Peter aspired to. Peter tried so hard to please his good side, and in a way, that's one of his focus in this movie. That's why his presence could be felt looming around the background. Contrary to what people assumed though, Tony wasn't in the movie that much. It was Jon Favreau's Happy Hogan who actually spent more screentime and connection with Peter. So nope, before you accuse Stark of stealing another character's movie, that's not the case. He had just about right amount of screen time, and the movie was wholly Peter's from start to end.
Jacob Batalon's Ned was a charming chubby sidekick. He's as excited as Peter, and shared a sweet chemistry with him that would make you wish you're their best friend too. Not trying to sound racist, but it's nice that we're getting another support character that's not black. I mean, that's certainly a pattern in the first two Phase of the MCU, right? Laura Harrier's Liz was the love interest, who as always, ended up becoming a damsel in distress at some point in the movie. Zendaya's Michelle on the other hand, was the weird girl who's out and about, and seemed to be tailing Peter for... unknown personal reason. She didn't have much to do, but likely because she's being set up for expanded involvement in the sequel(s). Tony Revolori's Flash was Pete's bully, but not in the way you think. He's a modern-type 'hater' who harrassed people with words and attitude, and not through muscle. And then there were other minor characters, filling up the school as either students (Abraham Attah, Tiffany Espensen, Michael Barbieri, etc) or teachers (Martin Starr, Selenis Leyva, Hannibal Buress, Kenneth Choi, etc), building up a truly diverse looking environment. It might feel like a crowded cast, but really, most of them only had small participation in this movie. But you know what I really love about the portrayal of this high school? That in a technology-based MCU, science IS the cool thing. For crying out loud, even the cool kids were the smart achiever ones, and the Academic Decathlon's its MVP! Unlike the typical high schools we saw in various TV shows (filled with actors sometimes too old to be students), this one personally felt more at home. Looking familiarly similar to the place I've went to all those years ago, it sure didn't take a while before nostalgia slowly kicked in.
One might argue that the villains weren't really 'that threatening' here. Particularly the Shockers: Logan Marshall-Green's Jackson Brice and/or Bokeem Woodbine's Herman Schultz. They felt like lower-tier 'bad guys', especially when compared to say... Ultron, or Loki, with their global-level annihilation ambitions. Nevertheless, Michael Keaton's Adrian Toomes was a truly intimidating antagonist, who would conquer the scene with his chilling presence. He firmly sit as one of the best MCU antagonist we got so far, just NOT the way you might think. In a strangely relatable way, situation somehow forced him to be one, placing him on the other side of the law. Not just him, but his crew as well, because most of them couldn't even be considered 'evil'. There's a moral ambiguity of why Toomes did what he did, an amazing angle that made him different to previous bad guys. You'll particularly see about this during the third arc. I sure would love to see more of him in the future, but Keaton's only contracted for one movie so far. Beside, without being too oblivious, there's a high possiblity that Michael Mando's character will be taking that spotlight in the sequel. Likely alongside Michael Chernus' Phineas Mason, who was the technical-brain of the Vulture.
Thanks to these antagonists, the action-pieces, while making such grandiose spectacles as usual, felt different this time around. It was intense, nervewracking, and many other emotions I couldn't describe. Surprisingly, it put me on the edge of my seat most of the time, due to how personal and sometimes intimate they were. There's a desperation in these scenes that made my heart racing, a sensation that strangely reminded me of that last battle on "Civil War". Perhaps because this Spider-Man is young, and that he made honest mistakes that led him into trouble instead? Or because his life and those around him was truly put in jeopardy every single time, as if jumping straight into a tank full of sharks? A real sense of danger? I couldn't tell. One thing for sure, you might think you've seen it all from the trailers (which are still best avoided, IMHO), but there's way more to that. I can assure you, the complete sequences were still unexpected and shocking to watch.
In the end, just like James Gunn's "Guardians of the Galaxy Vol. 2" that arrived three months ago, the sensation of "Spider-Man: Homecoming" was a little difficult to properly describe. Both movies had some jokes and humors that didn't land with the audience I was with, but mostly because they were lost in translation. "Vol. 2" felt personal to me, but "Homecoming" also felt relatable in many ways. It's all kinds of emotions, a roller-coaster as one would expect from an MCU movie. And this movie was a down-to-earth adventure for the web slinger, that's still loaded with plenty of surprises one after another, big or small. It even saved one really GOOD one at the closing minutes of the movie!
Devoted Marvel fans will be thrilled with how Spider-Man is perfectly captured, while gleefully scavenging those many easter eggs sprinkled throughout the movie. Ones that connected to the larger MCU, or those teasing what might be coming ahead (Angourie Rice's Betty Brant and Donald Glover's Aaron Davis, to name a few). Meanwhile, general audience will be delighted to see this, as a genuine high school movie disguised as a superhero one. A coming-of-age movie, where its lead character learns to deal with the challenges of being young, his lack of experience, responsibilities of being a hero, and the cost of trying to do good. As shown by Peter's powerful decisions in several key scenes of the third arc, it's also a movie that reminded its young (both by age or at heart) viewers to never lose sight of what's important: kindness and compassion. All I can tell is, that director Jon Watts truly nailed this movie, and now I can't wait to see him progressing with the same 'everyday hero' magic in the upcoming sequel (set for 2019).
The collaboration between Marvel Studios and SONY to include Peter Parker in the MCU was like a dream come true to Marvel fans. More than that, it truly has been proven to be THE right decision. Here's hoping they will further extend this wonderful deal to the future, because I honestly feel, Spider-Man is where he's supposed to be. HOME...
Overall Score: 8,5 out of 10 PS: It's common sense for an MCU movie, that there will be post-credit scenes. And as publicly reported, this movie had two, with one of them teasing for the sequel. That second one, though?! Dang it... it's a sweet 'cap off' that will leave you smiling as you walk out of the theatres. Seriously, don't miss out on that! LOL.
This review had gone through minor adjustments and corrections to make some points clearer on July 6th, 2017, 09:10AM (local time).
1 note · View note
coreshorts · 6 years
Text
Bond
youtube
She wanted to return. She said she would. Therefore, she did. Stealing away into Amdapor, this time, alone, to investigate the ruins of the once-great civilisation. The last time she was here, it was for a matter far more dire, and assisted by the one person whom she trusted most in the world. However, this time, she crept about on her own, silent and attentive, a bit of conjury keeping the wind around her moving, directing mould spores away from her; the few that made their way to her filtered through the mask beneath her hood harmlessly.
As she had before, Hali made her way into the depths of the ruins, sneaking past wildlife that seemed to repopulate far too quickly for her liking - it was already quite crowded again after she and Kaori had cut their way through in search of the Wardstone to protect Dahlia from her possessor - and heading for the place they had come across once before: the inner reaches of the city, still pristine and guarded by its gargoyles and golems.
To her dismay, as she drew closer to that magicked door that they had puzzled open before, she found yet another host of reanimated magi milling about aimlessly, staves clutched tightly. However, amongst them was a different figure: a man that felt... living - ancient, even, his aether mismatched even to his surroundings. It moved so strangely. In his hands was an ornate staff that he seemed to be using to work some manner of magic to bring the bodies - including those Hali and Kel had slain on their last foray into the forbidden ruins - back to an animated state, their expressions slack beneath tattered and worn hoods. In order to stop the bodies, she could just stop him. Her presence was disliked by the elements, and she could feel them warning her not to tamper, as before - she and Kel were barely tolerated for their trespass the last time - but perhaps she could gain some kind of favour by eliminating the man bringing these bodies back, and maybe even learn something in the process... Creeping up and through the legion of undead magi the man had been raising, she got a better look at him from her hidden position: He was an older man - an elezen - with heavy scarring on his hands and a bushy salt-and-pepper beard flecked with dirt. His robes held many different reagents in pockets and loops around them, including dried herbs, pouches, potions, and more. He concentrated heavily as Hali approached. She noted the stab wounds around the neck of the body, instantly recognising her own handiwork with a soft smirk.
Blades drawing silently, she pounced, jamming one blade down into his back, just behind and through his heart. The other drew up and jammed into his throat before tearing a gushing wound in the side. He dropped like a sack of rocks, and, with him, his thralls, as well. However, even as she took in the overwhelmingly joyous feeling of so many creatures' aether, especially that man's, released and dispersing all at once, she was drawn by a continued presence. Not all of the aether around him dispersed. In fact, it began to drain into the strange gem situated atop his staff, still clutched tightly in his hand.
She identified what was happening quickly. The staff had, she felt, some kind of effect to it that gathered a significant portion of his aether - his very soul - and was attempting to automatically resurrect him by returning the aether to him. Even his wounds, she noticed, upon inspection, were very slowly healing from the inside out. It must have been some kind of powerful white magic, she felt, but, if that were the case, would the Elementals not have raged? What stopped them?
She pushed the question aside and began investigating the staff, looking for some method by which she could stop the resurrection process. Her answer, she found, however, was not on the staff, but inside of it. The large purple gem at the top was a focus, but within it was a distinctly different presence that seemed almost to act on its own. Pursing her lips, the Raen began attempting to shatter the focus. First, she attempted to smash it with a rock. Then, she attempted to crack it open with a kunai. Growing frustrated, she attempted to wrest the staff from the dead man's grasp, and was met with a vicegrip. She growled, getting angry, and, drawing her kunai back, back to sever the fingers around the staff, one by one.
No longer able to grip the staff, the digitless hand flopped to the side, some kind of tension relaxing, and the staff was released. With it released, the flow of aether, too, stopped, a massive well of it remaining in the staff's focus, swirling about the secondary focus-like object within. The nature of that second source she felt, however, still remained unclear, only growing worse with the swirling, chaotic aether contained in the focus.
"I say," echoed a deep, masculine voice, "You are an unpleasant young woman, aren't you...?" Hali froze, looking around, then to the staff, then to the man on the ground. Suddenly, as her senses failed to help her locate the voice's source, her heart leapt into her chest. She looked down again into the staff's focus, deeply, squinting.
"Oh, don't tell me you're a mute, as well," the voice in her head said, "Come, now, explain yourself!"
"Wh-what the fuck," Hali hissed, peering around, then dropped the staff.
"Vulgar, as well, I see," she was taunted, "But at least you *can* talk, if not somewhat shakily. Your tongue seems not quite as sharp as those blades. That hurt, you know. Quite a bit."
"Sh-shut up!" the Raen yelled from behind her mask, beginning to panic, "F-fuck! I d-don't... stop! Get out! I-I'm not e-exactly up for possession, arsehole! J-just go back to being dead!"
"Rude," chided the man's ethereal voice, "I wasn't up for dying, you know, but I was not given a choice in that, either. You are, however, mistaken, my dear murderer. This connection is merely superficial, you see. You cut off my transference and managed to link your own aether with mine within this staff. That said, I would very much appreciate it if you might return this staff to my other hand. You know, the one from which you haven’t severed all the fingers. Honestly! Have you no decency, girl?”
“...pass,” the shinobi muttered, picking up the staff and looking it over, “I... what is th-what’s... in this? Who a- ...are you?” She tapped the gem in the head of the staff, finally feeling the tendrils of living aether that wound their way about her, through her, as if connected. It made her very uncomfortable.
“Well, I suppose I’ve naught better to do than play Twenty Questions with my killer, so, very well!” the man said mockingly, “I am Auguste Corsaint, Amdapori survivor and a very powerful mage, if you would imagine! You caught me at a bad time, of course.”
“...y-yeah,I’m sure,” Hali muttered, sighing.
“Well, you do the calculations, young lady! For how long have I lived if I survived the floods? Hmm?” Auguste asked impatiently, “I have acted as caretaker for this place for longer than your greatest great grandmother has been alive! I have survived the reawakening of Diabolos and countless raids on this place by feckless adventurers, as they are so-called!”
“Okay,” she replied, swinging the staff about, bored, “Wh-what’s with the staff focus? I-it feels weird. Th-this... is white magic. Right? B-but the, um, Elementals’ m-magic uses wood a-and... you know. Pretty shite focus.”
“Well, perhaps for untalented stabby-types such as yourself!” the former “caretaker” mocked, “The secrets of white magic are not for your types. So go on, now. Return my to my body. Hurry up!”
“...and... A-amdapor was... made by... all that, I mean,” Hali mused thoughtfully, pointing to the once-again-sealed door, “Was d-done with... white magic?”
“Well of course it was, you dreadfully slow girl,” Auguste said through the staff’s bond to her, “Now go on! As much as this conversation has been a... change, given the last odd centuries, I would rather be alive again, thank you very much.”
Hali looked at the staff, then down at the body, then back at the staff. Walking over toward the body in its massive puddle of blood on the floor, her steps made to avoid it so she didn’t leave too much of a trace (or ruin her poor boots), she twirled the staff once. She then began to walk away, returning to the entrance.
“What? I- now see here! I- you- Help! Hey! I’m being stolen! Someone?” Auguste’s voice called in her head, “Oh, bugger all. I should have invested my time in allowing myself more... freedom in this state. Or at least an actual voice. Young lady, know that I greatly dislike you.”
“J-join the, uh... club,” Hali muttered with a chuckle. She wanted those secrets. Auguste could have his rest. Perhaps she could force his aether out with one of her- She paused, thinking.
“What is it you intend to do, might I ask...?” he asked dangerously.
“W-well, n-not have my mind read, a-apparently,” Hali said with a smug grin, staring forward. Nice timing. Suspicious, but good.
“I- that’s preposterous! What do you take me for?!” Auguste cried, sounding strangely insulted.
“Heheh. N-nevermind,” the shinobi giggled, walking for the entrance, the man in the staff falling conspicuously silent. Hali smirked to herself. This staff was a key, as was Auguste. White magic seemed incredibly powerful, and it was closer to her roots. Even if she couldn’t practice it personally, she would certainly learn more, one way or the other.
She would have these secrets, starting with this strange aethereal bond...
0 notes