#nothing like telling someone that an animal deserves housing more than a human being straight to your face

[coochiekrab]

Self proclaimed animal luvr i hate humans internet warrior logic

#nothing like telling someone that an animal deserves housing more than a human being straight to your face

[envihellbender]

TMAverse Steve, Eddie and One?

Characters: Steve Harrington, Eddie Munson, One*

Content: Magnus Archives AU, sexual abuse, emotional abuse, monsters, animal death, human death, mass extinction, brief weight gain kink because I’m a menace

Steve Harrington, The Hunt:

Steve trusted Hopper, perhaps he did so m far too much. It made sense, the policeman had become almost like his father over the years. Plus, he was a police officer, and they knew what was best for everyone, he thought. He kept telling himself that when he found out Hopper’s secret, when he discovered what the Sheriff did to the criminals he caught, the man’s secret to having the lowest crime rates in the United States. That was because Hopper had what he called the sense, and the hunger. He described himself as being similar to a sniffer dog. He knew when someone was a troublemaker, he could feel it in his gut. He made a list of those people, and dealt with them before they could do anything to disrupt the peace of his town. Steve wasn’t sure what to make of it at first, but he kept going to Hopper’s after school, and seeing him around his house to help him and his mom out. He was such a good guy, it didn’t make sense that he’d ‘take care’ of people if they didn’t deserve it, right? Steve told himself.

Eventually, Hopper stopped being able to take out the targets, his gut had grown exponentially and his body was too old and burdened with adipose from all the criminals he’d eaten to continue. It took a while for him to convince Steve to take his place, Hopper tried to use a charm orientated offensive, he tried to tell the kid it was the right thing to do. Unfortunately, that didn’t work. So Hopper instead revealed the side of him people didn’t usually see and survive.

Steve had brought his dinner, as he always did, and when he was done putting things away Hopper asked him to come closer in a heavy voice. He did as he was told, despite anxiety filling his stomach. When he got close to Hopper’s large, bloated bicep Steve froze. The man’s eyes had changed shape and colour, they were narrowed and a deep yellow, his pupils had become black slits. His lips narrowed into his fat as his gigantic teeth grew from his skull, forming a bloated, fat snout and emitting a grow from his lips. Steve swore and backed away, knocking over a side table covered in beer cans. That was when Hopper told him that Steve was already marked, he was already like him, that if he didn’t follow his instructions… well, Steve found out exactly what would happen.

Steve ran. He ran from Hopper’s house, into his car, and drove straight home, his chest heaving with anxiety as his limbs shook. He tried to dismiss what Hopper said, but it wouldn’t leave his mind. Not like an intrusive thought, but every time he thought of it he felt as if there were sharp claws inside of his brain gripping onto him tighter. He couldn’t eat or sleep, his body grew weak, he couldn’t think of anything but wondering how blood would feel around his teeth. He had no idea how long it had been until he dove into his car, his bat filled with nails in his passenger seat, as he drove to do exactly what Hopper asked. Claws began to grow from his fingers, and his jaw began to morph into a snout as his teeth grew. Hopper was right, there was nothing he could do, even if the real Steve was still inside his chest, desperately trying to escape.

Eddie Munson, The Stranger:

It was ironic, really, Eddie had heard so often about how Dungeons and Dragons would be the door to satan, and yet it was in fact his High School Drama Class that had him be completely enraptured and taken in by something far worse than they ever told him about in Sunday School. Eddie’s teacher, Mister Ashton Cooper, was taken with the young man more than either Eddie’s English teacher who thought he was her star pupil. It wasn’t just that Mister Cooper was now one of three employees of the high school that actually thought Eddie had potential, that actually listened to him, that didn’t just treat him like a freak, an unknown entity, it was also that he actually seemed to want him.

Eddie wasn’t stupid, he knew how that sounded - a man probably around twice his age would stare at him like he wanted to rip the skin from his bones with his teeth. It filled Eddie with a horrific shame, he hated it but… Being wanted. That was something Eddie couldn’t resist. It was only the odd request to stay after class, which Eddie was happy to do so long as it didn’t clash with band practice or Hellfire. Eddie was nervous at first, expecting something bad to happen, but it didn’t. Well, not really. Mister Cooper sat very close, he had one hand on Eddie’s thigh and the other grabbing at his own crotch but all Eddie had to do was sit there and read from a script. This heavy book that was covered in so much dust that it made Eddie’s throat itch, all he had to do was read it a loud for Mister Cooper whilst he touched himself. Eddie swallowed and hunched over but he did it, and when Mister Cooper was satisfied he sent him away with a small grope of his behind.

It would’ve made sense for Mister Cooper to be the villain of this story, and in a way he was but in actual fact the script written by Jurgen Leitner was something he was just compelled to show people. The more Eddie read it the more stranger things began happening to him. First, it was the music. The strange tune that followed him everywhere that no one else could hear. After that, it was flyers to the circus that kept being left inside his school locker and posted to his trailer. No one else had even heard of it. So one day, he decided to go. It didn’t have a date on it, just a location. The old theatre in Hawkins that had closed down decades ago. No one knows what happened that night but Eddie, and whilst many think him missing you can still see him.

The Storyteller puts on his show every evening at 8.30pm, and his gathered victims sit in horror as he appears on stage. He is taller than before, thinner, with joints that moved oddly like a puppet’s. His smile looked as if it had been stapled in place, and his skin was almost as white as ivory. The story changes every night, but the end of every show has the same thing. A little trick he learnt from a band he enjoyed from England, he spent a long time managing it but he’d combined the calliope and his precious guitar. He delighted in finishing every show with a song that brought his audience to his feet, their shadows and bodies engulfed and given to the Stranger.

One, The Extinction:

There was no one before, not really. There had been a boy who was empty, until he met the underneath. The upside down. The deep. The many named thing that rested dormant beneath reality. Sometimes people are born empty, no soul inside of them and when they are, that’s when it took over. The being from underground, the mind flayer, the demogorgon, whatever name you wanted to give the monsters… The thrived in unclaimed bodies. So it made sense that when it found a body it particularly liked that boy became One. The first. The only. For when he was done, he would be the only one to exist. The child needed a little while to grow, to get used to this ageless entity inside of him, so he began small.

It started with insects. One would collect them and hide them under the floorboards in his bedroom. He tried to keep to taking the same ones over and over again, he wanted to try and capture as many as he could every day, he’d extract the venom if there was any, and simply lock them in empty jars until they died naturally. Somehow, he managed to move from ten a day to hundreds and then thousands. They would no longer fit beneath his floorboards, and he began burying them in the backyard, then the forest. He had an ever growing anxiety in his chest that he’d be caught, because if he was he couldn’t explain what he was doing. That fear however morphed into joy, it became a delight that filled him better than a feast could have. He overheard a news story that the Heloderma hercules beetle had disappeared. It was so strange, they said, the insect had been thriving - it even had been a pest in Indiana… but somehow it was gone. It had been named extinct. There was some great anxiety about how this would affect the ecosystem, but all One could do was laugh about how every single corpse was in his bedroom, the backyard, and the forest. Naturally, he needed to expand.

Soon, he found that he didn’t need to hunt the species itself, if he killed one creature then a hundred would die in its place. Life stopped growing around him, plants, flowers, they all rotted and died, even his parents had begun aging quicker. By the time he was eighteen he had managed to cause fifty eight species to disappear for reasons no one could explain, and despite his parents having him at twenty three and twenty five respectively, they both had the bodies of eight six year olds. They were his first kills, it was a mercy really - the two terrified middle aged parents who suddenly were unable to walk through crippling arthritis and whose hair was falling out in clumps? One decided it was better to put them down. Better to ensure they were put to sleep and never had to experience the pain again.

That’s how it went, the beautiful, tall young man managed to charm everyone he met - and very few could feel the hollowness behind his eyes, and when they noticed how quickly things around him aged and died… Well, it was too late.

#envi writes #do not archive #tma au #Steve Harrington #Eddie Munson #one / vecna #stranger things

[aquilaofarkham]

title: the little death rating: T+ word count: 2,409 summary: Two years after his fight with Death, Trevor’s injuries start catching up to him while Alucard realizes that humans are more fragile than he thought. 

For @trevorsmellmont ❤️  Thank you so much for commissioning me!

READ HERE

There’s a sharp pain pooling beneath his right arm, coursing through his ribcage. Trevor ignores it just as he’s ignored all the other aches, jabs, and stings over the past two years. Two years of building something better, something sustainable to last far longer than its young, admittedly green founders. Countless days, weeks, and months erecting homes, gardens, and pens for those dumb gentle animals who think the entire townscape is their personal pasture. Not another mistake of allowing them to wander aimlessly straight into the castle. As if heifers need to learn how to craft medicine or conduct what’s being referred to as “electricity”.

The work will never be finished. Even on days like this when the sun burns hotter than any circle in hell. A few drops of warm salt-ridden sweat crawl past Trevor’s pressed lips and into his dry mouth. Pain and thick heat were never enough to stop him before—he tells himself this, barely certain of his own supportive thoughts (a new concept taking root in his mind). Take it slow, don’t push yourself, idiot. This cabin made from the earth will get built eventually. Another family will receive their forever home to fill with lots of babies. Old wounds beg to differ as Trevor’s arms begin to weaken, each movement slower than the last, struggling to keep up with Greta’s superior pace. She’s always known her way around a mallet.

Another bead of sweat gets caught in Trevor’s lashes, sparing his eyes from temporary discomfort. Though it wouldn’t have mattered as they’re already past any sort of respite. He looks for distraction but can only see the blurred shapes coming from a huddle of bodies, despite being a short distance from them. He knows it’s only Sypha and Alucard with the village children, which gives Trevor some relief.

There’s more comfort to be felt when he remembers that one of those little monsters is his own, nestled in Sypha’s lap then placed in Alucard’s gentle arms. She has a name far too long for any toddler to pronounce—Elizabeta Belnades Tepes Belmont—so what rolls off her developing tongue instead is simply “Liza”. She’s innocent now but once she leaves this little man-made paradise and ventures into a harsher world, she will take more after her mother and father. Grabbing whatever life offers with both fists, clawing and biting her way through every obstacle until her teeth are reddened with bloody meat. For the time being, they relish Liza’s soft cheeks, wispy hair, and the way she throws herself at whichever adult happens to be in her nearest vicinity. The other children are helping her socialize by playing games and embracing frivolity; a tactic Trevor remembers from his own upbringing, though with less games and even less frivolity. 

“Think you can handle one or two more?”

Greta’s voice manages to cut through Trevor’s mental fog. Funny how she asks if he can “think” about anything especially at this suffocating moment. She must have noticed the way his lips curl into a happy doped up grin while observing his family and couldn’t help but inquire. As any close, loved and valued friend would.

“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves.”

“What’s wrong with looking a bit further into the future? Now that we all have one.” 

“Looking is one thing, but seriously suggesting is something else completely. My… performance in certain areas isn’t as up to snuff as it used to be.”

As Trevor says this, things deteriorate and get a bit fuzzier from his eyesight down to his chest. Out of focus. Painful. He keeps talking, keeps ignoring the inevitable. Always ignoring what his own body screams for.

Greta wrinkles her nose at his statement. “There are children present, Belmont.”

“What? I’m referring to the house. I barely managed to get one wall up while you’re already on the fucking roof.”

“So dramatic. You three really do deserve each other. And you’re still young.”

“On the outside, maybe.”

She laughs at his lie, misinterpreting it as another piece of mild self-deprecatory banter he might never be able to live without. Greta says something else, perhaps her own personal jest to counter his, but Trevor cannot hear. Breath grows heavier, forcing out a raspy “it’s fine. It’s just my chest”. Barely able to tell if Greta actually said anything about his sudden condition. Or rather, not so sudden. No, this has been building over quite some time now. His muscles and bones screaming, begging for relief or death, and end to everything—whichever comes first. Feelings that only worsened over the years.

Trevor loses control over his legs, now practically boneless. The collision between his head and the ground is nothing compared to the inner war over his heart. Whether it will finally succumb. Greta immediately calls for help—he thinks without confidence, once again. Trevor can still hear voices, but not their exact words. Not Sypha when she demands to know what happened. Not Alucard when he begs for him to stay conscious. Not even Liza as she cries for her papa.

Then all the chaos in the world fades into slow darkness.

--

Alucard stands outside the closed bedchamber door, contemplating how often he’s touched Trevor’s body. Lithe fingertips have memorized every crevice, scar, soft and rough spots alike. Not just as a lover with wandering hands underneath blankets in the dead of night. Or a friend who holds him steady on both feet when he needs it. But as this family’s self-appointed physician. 

Perhaps the prince of two worlds took after his father after all. “Polymath” is what Alucard used to describe Dracula and the very same word others have referred to him as, mostly in the realm of medicine. He knows more than anyone, little offence given towards the herb dispensers and leech farmers (only to be polite for his own townsfolk). Thus, through the anxieties and trembling hands, Alucard gave Trevor his diagnosis: heat exhaustion along with a muscle somewhere in his chest that decided to go rogue and strain itself.

The son of Tepes, the only local doctor worth trusting, and arguably the co-leader of their little prospering hamlet paces across the hall like Trevor did the day Liza was born. He’s on the other side of that closed door, resting. Bedridden from heat exhaustion and a fucking pulled muscle. It bothers Alucard. This shouldn’t have happened to someone who stood up to the personification of Death and pissed in his eye. A stupidly common and easily treatable inconvenience to the human body shouldn’t be the end of a fucking Belmont.

It shouldn’t—unless Trevor’s scars have anything to say about it. The ones on the inside and outside. Inside, unseen, and untreatable. There’s a harsh revelation to be found there; one which the prince has been purposefully avoiding up to this moment. Alucard can try as he wants, use the tools left behind by his father and mother as though it were their final death wish, but he might never tend to what pains Trevor on the inside. He’s a Belmont, undeniably so, but Belmonts are human despite the many recurring signs pointing to the contrary. Then there’s Sypha with her magic, but she’s human as well. Greta and Liza are still human. Humans are more susceptible to dying easy, little deaths even when they follow world-saving victories.

Where does this leave Alucard? Thoughts spiral down, down towards darker places the longer he nervously hovers outside the bedroom. He’s been known to awkwardly stumble into deflection, insisting he’s only half human whenever certain someones bring up this topic of necessary conversation. Meaning he might as well not be human at all. Not when the bodies of those he loves change so rapidly while his remains petrified. It’s only been two years, filled to the brim with countless hours he wouldn’t ever want to trade for the entire world. But the thought of one night as they nestle themselves into bed and Alucard touches either Trevor or Sypha’s chest only to feel an anomaly within their hearts. The earliest sign that time and age will eventually betray them as it does for all mortals—it could be the one thing to break him.

Alucard stops himself at the opportune moment, right before he starts thinking about his mother and father. Did Dracula ever contemplate Lisa’s mortality? Was the decision to never turn her easy or the hardest thing he forced upon his unstable, immortal conscience? Arms crossed over his chest like a protective cage, fingernails digging into the fabric of his shirt until it hurts, Alucard swallows a bitter glob of spit and reaches for the doorknob. Sypha will have to accept the fact that he couldn’t wait for her. He quietly thanks her for the lessons she taught him. If he needs to talk about something—truly talk, no sarcastic wit or banter, just the raw emotions—Alucard no longer hesitates. He won’t, not as he enters the room and immediately sees Trevor still in bed, not quite altogether there. At least he can manage a decent smile and wave of his hand.

“Evening.”

“How does your chest feel?”

“Still a bit tight, but I’ve been taking deep breaths like the doctor ordered.”

The amount of strain heard in Trevor’s voice worries Alucard. Hopefully the Belmont has learned something from the recent past, so he won’t be stupid and suggest anything having to do with leaving bed or getting back to work.

 “I think I should get up.”

“I think that’s a poor decision.”

“Are you saying that as my physician or because you’re letting that pretty little blonde head of yours get too worked up?”

No. Yes. Both? If only Trevor didn’t look up at him with those glassy eyes (can he still see him?) the colour of stained glass windows erected in cathedrals he felt so unwelcome inside. If only that smile, somehow both soft and shit-eating, wasn’t in place of a more serious expression. Then maybe Alucard could voice his concerns without being accused of acting overbearing—an accusation grounded in solid evidence but he’s not ready to admit that yet. Not out loud.

“Normal, healthy adults do not become bedridden after pulling a small muscle in their chest.”

“Belmonts aren’t normal… or healthy in my case.”

Alucard’s brow furrows. “I want to think you’re healthy—” I need to. “—that you’ll live long enough to see the children of this village have little ones of their own. Liza included.”

“God’s sake, she’s only two years old. You and Greta, always talking about looking one step too far into the future. Let her be a child before adulthood rears its ugly maw.”

“Try not to change the subject.”

Trevor lifts his head off the indent pressed into his sweat drenched pillow. “Alright. Fine. I feel much better. I won’t push myself and give my heart some more time to recover.”

No response coupled with broken eye contact; sure signs of Alucard’s reluctance to accept his rather weak assurance. The Belmont has no other choice.

“Come here. Sit.”

Another moment’s hesitation before Alucard complies. Feeling his weight upon the mattress, Trevor blindly reaches for his wrist until calloused fingers grip cool, unblemished skin.

“Now lie down. No, no. Not like that. Place your head right here.” He pats his chest and with a fleeting amount of guidance, Alucard’s cheek fits perfectly between his breasts. Two hands smooth over the dhampir’s curves before one before one rests on his silk smooth head and the other against the small of his back. Alucard lied about one thing: his own body can change in small yet noticeable ways. Without the need to fight for the lives of others, whether today or tomorrow, sharp edges turn softer. Trevor and Sypha have finally let themselves breathe as well, let go, and enjoy all of life’s pleasures.

“Hear that?” He asks Alucard.

“... It’s slow.”

“Slow and strong like it should be.”

Alucard wishes he could bottle up that heartbeat or place it in a box. Preferably a music box to listen to its soothing melody long after its original body and soul are both eventually gone from this world. Who knows? It might make things hurt a little bit less like when he redrew his parent’s portrait or built a much larger nursery where his own used to be. Not a lot, but Alucard could possibly live with just “a little”.

“Speaking of Greta…” The baritone of Trevor’s voice sends deep vibrations through his broad chest, tickling Alucard’s cheek. “She said something about more children.”

“More orphans joining us?”

“No, even though I know how much you love those damn orphans. She asked if we could handle one or two more.”

“What did you say?”

“I implied that she was taking after Sypha’s influence by being wonderfully insane.”

Alucard chuckles in agreement. That sounds like Greta. “You never know. It might be good for Liza if she has a younger sibling.”

With the sound of Sypha’s well timed arrival, he’s mercifully saved from Trevor’s lengthy speech about how patience is apparently a virtue and tirades about his “performance” or lack thereof. Greta reveals herself shortly afterwards with a still crying Liza in tow. So many bodies gathered around one inebriated individual, here for him and him alone. Trevor’s consoled yet exasperated expression directed at Greta in particular says “isn’t there someone more important you could be helping right now?”

Sypha is the first to voice her gratitude after fussing over her exhausting loved one. “I will never be able to thank you enough, Alucard.”

“I think the bed did most of the heavy lifting, love.”

Trevor is given an affectionate, somewhat caring glare in response but his focus is demanded elsewhere once he suddenly notices Liza jumping onto the bed. She snuggles herself between him and Alucard, wetting their shirts with her tears.

“Easy there, you little monster. Papa’s still a bit tender.” Not that she can understand or care.

There’s an aura of relief felt amongst everyone in the room—less with Alucard who smiles bittersweetly. It’s a truth he knew he had to acknowledge before it tore his heart open. Trevor and Sypha will die one day and he will have to bury them. He’ll bury Greta, he might even bury Liza. Not today thank all the gods, or tomorrow, not for the next few decades if fate is kind enough. 

But the day will come. And it will be Alucard’s own little death.

#castlevania #castlevania spoilers #castlevania fanfiction #trevor belmont #alucard #alucard castlevania #sypha belnades #greta danesti #trephacard #trevorcard #my writing #*cvfic

[thanksjro]

Bayverse: Treating These Movies with More Dignity than They Deserve or Contain, Because I’m a Goddamned Professional - Part One

TRANSFORMERS (2007) - UNCOMFORTABLE SEXUAL TENSION BETWEEN TEENAGERS THAT I DIDN’T NEED TO SEE

So.

This is a little different than what I usually do.

Clearly.

God, how did we even get here?

Oh, I remember.

The date was September 17th, 2020, and I was in a stream with nine or ten other people watching the first Bayverse Transformers movie. Why we were watching it doesn’t particularly matter- sometimes you just gotta watch garbage so you can refresh your palate for the good stuff, I suppose. Also, a couple of folks wanted to make goo-goo eyes at Blackout’s rotors.

...It’s not my thing, but I’m glad they’ve got something to make the journey worth taking.

I made some sort of comment about only using my brain for this blog’s content, and someone (you know who you are :)) suggested that I take a proper look at the film. Being who I am, I immediately latched onto this idea, despite it being technically outside of what I write about.

And then I quintuple-downed, because winners don’t quit.

Good to know that my BA in Film Production wasn’t a complete waste of time.

Fun fact, I broke my television trying to watch Transformers for this. I think the universe was trying to stop me, by making me perform surgery on electronics, and also aggravating my carpal tunnel.

This movie came out when I was 13, and it was the first Transformers thing I saw after Cybertron. Yes, the anime one. No, not the one that’s objectively terrible.

Anyway.

How did I feel about Transformers when I saw it the first time? Well… it was okay. I liked the robots. I thought Mikaela was pretty, not that I knew what that meant back then. I watched it a few times, if only because my oldest younger brother kept renting it at Blockbuster. It was fun.

Now I’m older, and wiser, and know feminist theory, so my opinion is less “this exists” and more “blind, murderous rage”.

Our film opens up with some claptrap about the Cube™, a MacGuffin of ultimate power that allows the Transformers to create worlds in their image and populate them. Which means this is how they reproduce.

It always comes back to baby-making, doesn’t it?

The narration goes on about how the Cube™ is very powerful, and some folks wanted it for good, and others for evil. The criteria for being “good” and “evil” isn’t established, and I’m not exactly sure how one would define such a thing, when all the Cube™ does is create life, but, well, we’ve only just begun. Maybe we’ll get some answers later on.

Haha, I doubt it.

So, the Cube™ is the catalyst for our 4 million year war this continuity, and that sucker was lost in the shuffle a while back. This is a problem, because, again, the Cube™ is how the Transformers reproduce. Now everyone’s in a mad scramble to find the thing so their species doesn’t die out.

Three guesses as to where it ended up, and the first two don’t count.

Smashcut to the shit nobody cares about- the humans. We see an Osprey fly over the Qatar desert, carrying a buttload of American soldiers. We get a taste of some good old-fashioned xenophobia, as several soldiers mock a guy for not speaking English and loving his mother’s cooking, going full “funny haha gibberish language” on him. We’re two and a half minutes into the film, and I already want to stab something.

Ed Sheeran breaks into the conversation, I guess because he was feeling left out, revealing that he is the New Yorker stereotype of the film, for some reason. The fellas ask their captain, Lennox, what he’s looking forward to most about getting home from their tour, and he reveals himself to be a family man. While he’s been away, his wife had a baby, who he hasn’t so much as held yet. His men respond by mocking him.

For loving his child.

We’re three minutes into the film, and the toxic masculinity might actually make me have an aneurysm.

The Ospreys land, the lads disembark, and we get a snapshot of what downtime during deployment looks like to Bay. There are a lot of kiddie swimming pools involved. Two men play basketball. We watch multiple men take outdoor showers. A young Qatari boy brings Lennox a camelback water pack with a smile on his face. This lets me know that he’s a prop and not a character in this film. I can’t wait to see how many horrors he’ll be put through to simulate pathos.

We get a shot of a helicopter flying over the desert, one that the US military doesn’t recognize as their own. They send a couple of planes to check it out, and said planes get their shop wrecked. The helicopter is revealed to be the same ‘copter that was shot down several months prior. That’s… not good. Ghost helicopter?

No. Not at all, actually.

Lennox gets on a video chat with his wife and daughter, who is wearing one of the most ridiculous baby outfits I’ve seen in a hot minute. And I used to work in childcare, so I’ve seen a good amount of those. The writing implies that normal bodily functions are unladylike and therefore undesirable… in an infant… and that’s when all hell breaks loose, thankfully saving me from more of Bay trying to make me give a shit about these characters.

The helicopter lands, we get a shot of the mustachioed pilot, who glitches (gasp), and the line “have your crew step out or we will kill you” is uttered. Not even trying to hide the nationalism, are you?

This film hit theaters in 2007, when the xenophobia from 9/11 was still heavy in the air of the general populace, so things like this were more tolerated, and in fact approved of. Of course, it’s not like America has really improved on that subject, or ever really had a point where we weren’t terrible about it, since we live in a world where the military-entertainment complex exists.

See, the Department of Defense and a good chunk of American entertainment industries have a little deal going, and have for the last few decades, and it goes like this: The DoD will allow the use of their vehicles, personnel, and bases, or the likenesses of such, for free, in exchange for their operations being shown in a positive/morally justified light. This is why you never see the armed forces portrayed in a way that makes them out as anything less than heroes- nobody would be able to afford the sets/likenesses without the DoD’s aid. This is also why you see straight-up advertisements for the military branches on televison, in cinemas, and online, and why both the Army and Navy have flirted with having Twitch channels.

It’s all a ploy to get you to join the military, kids. It’s propaganda.

But enough about that, it’s time for our first transformation sequence!

We get a lot of moving parts with this, since it’s realistic CGI in a live-action movie, and it still holds up. It’s hard to tell what’s actually happening, but it, if nothing else, feels alien, surreal, and horrific to behold. They even included the original sound effect in the cacophony, which is nice.

Our ghost helicopter reveals itself to be a Transformer, not that we get that terminology at any point in this film. This specifically is Blackout, a Decepticon. The soldiers start firing on him the moment he starts transforming, then are surprised when the thing they started shooting with several guns retaliates. This is the point where everything ever in this military base explodes, brilliantly and repeatedly, because it wouldn’t be a Bay film without it. There’s a lot of shouting and bright lights, and I’m positively certain that a great deal of people died during this fight.

It’s just a shame that I don’t care.

Blackout rips the top off of a building like it’s a tin of anchovies, and then snags all the hard drives he can, downloading everything. This is a problem, but it seems like nobody was prepared for a giant alien robot hack-attack, because in order to shut down the power to the servers, you need to be able to unlock the breaker box, and no one seems to have the key. They solve the problem with a fire ax.

Lennox is leading the Qatari boy through the base towards safety. I should mention that it’s night now, and several hours seem to have passed since the Ospreys landed, so I don’t know why this kid is still here. He’s got, like, a house and family to go home to.

We get some more tank-throwing action, Sergeant Epps almost gets flattened under Blackout’s foot, then the movie decides it’s going to try to make things more interesting by having each shot cut flash, for whatever reason.

Someone shoots Blackout with a rocket launcher, I think, and this is the point where he throws his tiny little man off his back to go do his job. Yes, Blackout’s got a baby, and that baby is Scorponok, his symbiotic pal who likes to dig into the ground and be a sneaky little bastard.

Blackout blows up a ton more military equipment and personnel, and then it’s time for another smashcut.

Now we’re in high school, just like all those dreams I’ve had where I’ve forgotten my homework. This is where we meet Sam Witwicky, our main character, and also the stand-in for our target demographic. He’s insufferable, and I don’t like him. Mikaela Banes, our love interest, is also present in this scene, but we don’t get to know about her character for, like, another 20 minutes, because who gives a shit about women, right? They’re just props, right?

Right???

RIGHT??????????

RIGH-

Sam is presenting on his great-great-grandfather, Archibald Witwicky, for his family genealogy report, in front of a class containing maybe three actors who are age appropriate.

I know child labor laws are a good thing, and that hiring adults to play teenagers is just the lay of the land, but I swear some of these students look like they’re old enough to be on their second mortgage and third kid.

Anyway.

Archibald Witwicky was an explorer, one of the first to traverse the Arctic circle, and apparently his crew was made up of folks from 2007, because I swear the clothing for a few of these dudes isn’t period-appropriate. We get a seamen joke, because of course we do, and a sextant joke, because of course we do. Sam is also hawking all this crap he’s brought in for the presentation, because he is a little bastard who has no idea what his peers would want to buy, or really how to relate to them at all. He’s selling these “priceless” artifacts so he can get a car. Mikaela finds this charming, for some fucking reason. Also, her boyfriend is weirdly stroking her shoulder blade with his knuckles the whole time this is happening, and I hate it.

Archibald Witwicky went mad after his expedition, talking about an “ice man” so often that his family ended up locking him in a mental asylum, likely to be forgotten about. Which is sad. But we won’t be getting into the medical mistreatment of the mentally ill in Bayverse, now will we? That’s just Too Deep™.

Sam’s teacher didn’t very much appreciate having his class be turned into an episode of Antiques Roadshow, but still gives Sam an “A” on the project, despite it being a very poor report that lasted all of two minutes. I suspect the teacher has tenure, and therefore no longer gives a shit about academic integrity. This “A” means that Sam’s father will buy him a car.

Which is nice, I suppose, if I gave a damn.

Sam’s father, Ron, picks up his son in a car he probably bought at the crux of his midlife crisis, in a green that reminds me of a school gymnasium floor, then plays a prank on his child by pretending to pull into the Porsche dealership. Sam isn’t getting a Porsche, which is good, because he doesn’t deserve one. As Sam gripes to his father, a yellow Camaro drives by oh so conspicuously. Wonder what’s up with that.

Instead of the Porshe dealership, they head over to the used car lot, which is being run by Bobby Bolivia, who spends his time yelling at his employees and wanting to murder his mother. Sam is incredibly ungrateful about the fact that his dad is helping him get a car, even though it’s his FIRST car, and nobody gets a nice one the first go around. Or, at least, they shouldn’t, given the statistics about accidents with young drivers.

“No sacrifice, no victory” is uttered by Ron, which is the family motto, or so he claims. Archibald Witwicky said the same thing when he had multiple people dying trying to get to the Arctic Circle, so there’s precedence for the phrase, but we’ll see how it holds up throughout the film.

Bobby Bolivia shows Sam and Ron the cars he has for sale, and Sam is immediately drawn to the yellow Camaro in the lot, though there’s a small problem- it’s too expensive for what he and his father agreed to. Also, nobody knows where the hell it came from, so paperwork might be an issue. When Bobby tries to show Sam the yellow Beetle they have right down the line, everything explodes, because this is a Bay film, and fuck the original material this movie was based on. Bobby lets them have the Camaro for a lower price, suddenly fearful of whatever strange powers have just visited his place of business. “The car picks the driver” is suddenly more than a bullshit line to spout off in order to sell cars, and I’m certain that’s shaken the poor man.

Over in Washington, D.C., the Secretary of Defense prepares to address just what the hell happened in Qatar, lamenting on how young the audience he’s going to be speaking to is. In particular, he’s referring to the two dweebs and the hot chick sitting in one of the rows. All the women in this movie who aren’t someone’s mom are made up to be very pretty. And not even in a realistic way. But we’ll get to that in a bit.

So, the military network was hacked. That’s bad. Nobody knows who did it. That’s also bad. The only lead the US has is a soundbite, which is the signal that hacked the network.

Everyone here at the briefing is going to be helping to figure this mess out. This is great, if you like looking at Rachael Taylor for a few seconds at a time, and can compartmentalize hard enough to make that worth the effort of watching this godforsaken film.

Back at the Witwicky household, we meet Mojo, a chihuahua with a cast that doesn’t seem like it’s actually doing anything. I wish he was the main character instead of Sam.

Sam arrives home from the dealership, and says “alright, Mojo, I’ve got the car. Now I need the girl.”

As if ownership of a person is something to aspire to.

As if women are property to be owned.

As if women aren’t people, but rather commodities.

We’re 17.5 minutes into this film.

We’re introduced to Judy, Sam’s mother. She’s shrill, and annoying. This is by design, because none of the women in this film are actually people, but rather archetypes to bounce off of the male characters.

Sam and his father have a moment of what some might consider banter, then Sam gets huffy with his mom over gender roles for the dog. I, for one, think Mojo looks positively dashing in his bedazzled collar, and to hell with whatever Sam says to the contrary.

Sam drives off to go be a misogynist, with the promise to be back by 11PM.

Over in Qatar, the soldiers and that little boy are running from the attack on their base, as Lennox’s wife watches a public announcement on the matter back at home. The Secretary of Defense lets us know that we’re at DEFCON Delta at this point. Lennox Jr. cries, and all I can think about is how they probably pinched that baby to make that happen. They pinched a baby for Transformers (2007).

The soldiers in Qatar talk about shit they have no idea about, Sergeant Epps going on about somehow having been able to see a forcefield around Blackout through his super special binoculars. I don’t know how, or why, he knows this. I don’t know anything anymore.

Ed Sheeran has his doubts about this whole thing, and Lennox is also present in the scene, because I guess he’s important. Through a bit of dramatic irony, Fig- the guy everyone was making fun of for being bilingual at the start of the film- says that this probably isn’t over, as the shape of Scorponok shifts through the sand just beyond them.

Epps is having a minor crisis over the fact that Blackout saw him, but we don’t have time for that, because we’ve got to get to cover. The lads decide to head to the little Qatari boy’s house. Again, I wonder why he was at the base at all, considering that it seems like they’ve been traveling for a good portion of the day.

Back with Sam, he’s picked up his friend Miles, and together they’re going to a lake party. Are they invited to this party? Yes, but also no. It’s public property though, so it should be fine. As they park, Sam notices that Mikaela is here, which is great for him.

Mikaela’s boyfriend, Trent- whose name I had to look up- is a massive tool, and starts pestering the two boys for daring to exist in his airspace. Miles climbs a tree. I’m glad he’s having fun, at least. Sam makes a joke at the expense of people with brain injuries, and this for some reason? Warrants a shot of Mikaela making the blank “pretty girl” face? In response?

Mikaela saves Sam from becoming a wet stain on the grass, which is very kind of her, and more than Sam really deserves. Trent, his boys, and Mikaela start to head off for another party, to get away from Sam and his tree-loving friend. Mikaela offers to drive, and Trent says that she can’t handle his truck, because she’s a ~girl~. This causes Mikaela to ditch him, and start walking home.

The script knows enough about misogyny to know that this would be a nice “take that”. Michael Bay, however, likely fails to see why everything he did with said script involving this character is a goddamned problem.

Because Mikaela, bless her heart, has a lot of problems.

Let’s start with the outfit: a croptop, a jean skirt that BARELY covers her ass, and a pair of wedge heels that are at least four inches tall. On a character that is, at oldest, freshly 18.

Look, I’m all about self-expression and the freedom to choose how you dress for yourself and yourself alone, but this clearly isn’t that. This is a character, not a person, whose wardrobe was designed for the straight male gaze. She’s wearing fucking STRAP HEELS to the lake. This is about oogling. This is about reducing a whole-ass person to the same status as a piece of meat. In fact, who was on wardrobe for this? I’d like to have a few words with-

A woman? Okay, well, what else has she worked on?

You can’t be fucking serious.

ANYWAY.

Miles just called Mikaela an “evil jock concubine.” I don’t like Miles anymore.

As Mikaela walks down the road, strutting hard enough that I’ve got sympathy pains in my hips, the radio in the Camaro turns on, playing “Drive” by the Cars, and giving Sam a hell of an idea; he’s gonna drive Mikaela home, so she doesn’t have to walk the 10 miles to her house. Why he knows how far she lives from the lake isn’t addressed.

Sam kicks Miles out of the car and goes to give Mikaela a ride, which she accepts after a bit of self-deliberation, and also him making an ass of himself. The shot here is framed with Sam like he’s a normal-ass person, and Mikaela from her breasts to the top of her waist. Because of COURSE it is.

She hops in the car and then goes off about her taste in hot guys. Which is weird, and out of left field. Sam is about as confused as I am, then continues to make a fool of himself. This is his nature as a person. Mikaela has no idea who Sam is, even though they’ve gone to the same school for the last 10 years and have multiple classes together. And the fact that she was staring him down all through his genealogy presentation. And at the lake.

This movie isn’t very well thought out, I feel.

It’s at this point the the Camaro turns the key on itself and starts to sputter out and die, as “Sexual Healing” by Marvin Gaye pops on the radio.

I don’t like how this car is trying to get Sam laid.

I don’t like how this car is trying to get Sam laid with a girl who didn’t even know his name five minutes ago.

I don’t like how this car knows what sex is.

The Camaro breaks down on a cliff, and Mikaela hops out to work on the engine, and also to get the hell away from Sam’s sputtering.

As Mikaela admires the sweet engine in this Camaro, showing off her knowledge of cars, we get several shots of her from her breasts to her thighs, while Sam is treated like an actual person. Don’t bother trying to play it off as an artistic choice, Bay, this is blatant horndogging. This adds to NOTHING, other than my ire.

Sam says more stupid shit, and Mikaela, who must be the nicest fucking person in the world, just tells him to fire up the engine so she can try to sort out the problem. Then he asks why she goes for jackasses like Trent, and she decides that she’s hit her limit for today, opting to walk the rest of the way home. Good on you, Mikaela. Don’t take Sam’s bullshit.

Sam, realizing that he’s put his foot in his mouth for the 80th time today, pleads with his Camaro to do him a solid and work, and this actually works out for him. Great. Sam, victorious, once again offers Mikaela a ride, which she, once again, takes.

He drops her off without further incident, and she thanks him for listening. Even though they didn’t really talk that much. I dunno, maybe they had a super deep conversation offscreen. Mikaela asks Sam if he thinks she’s shallow, because clearly all women need approval from the men around them, and Sam says that there’s more to her than meets the eye.

Which made me groan aloud.

Anyway, she gets inside without a problem, and Sam professes his love for his new Camaro for allowing him to talk to a girl. Or at least talk at her.

Back in Washington, D.C., at the Pentagon National Military Command Center, we’re making weirdly racist calls on who hacked the military.

Up with Air Force One, a conspicuous boombox transforms into a robot, and then runs off to hack shit. The President of the United States requests some snack cakes. A flight attendant goes down to storage to retrieve said snack cakes, and finds that boombox in the elevator with her. Considering this is Air Force One, you’d perhaps expect her to immediately be suspicious of such a thing, but this is Bayverse, and we don’t think here.

The flight attendant brings the boombox down with her and places it on the counter as she goes to get the presidential snack cakes. The boombox immediately disappears. Now, you’d perhaps expect her to immediately be suspicious of such a thing, but this is Bayverse-

The flight attendant opens up the snack cake package, for some reason, and drops the cake on the floor. She then proceeds to eat it, and then act shocked when it tastes like floor. There’s a robot in her fucking line of sight, and you’d perhaps expect her to immediately be suspicious of such a thing-

She leaves to go feed the President floor cakes, and our little robot friend gets to work stealing government secrets. He, if nothing else, looks pretty cool doing it. He’s a very pointy lad.

Back at the Pentagon, Maddie- Rachael Taylor’s character- can hear the hacking. This sends everyone into a panic, because, well, that shouldn’t be happening. The hacking noise is a direct match to the one from Qatar, so that’s obviously a problem.

Back on Air Force One, our little robot friend is looking for “Project Iceman”, which he very quickly finds, and downloads everything they’ve got on it, and also plants a virus. The process seems to be… doing things to him. It’s weird. This movie is weird.

The Pentagon cuts all the system hardlines, stopping the process, but it’s too late- he got what he wanted, just about. Two security personnel come into the room, and the robot kills them both with some spinning blade disc nonsense. Air Force One is forced to land for the safety of everyone on-board. More security detail comes in to deal with the little bastard, but he transforms into a boombox and sits on a shelf to avoid suspicion. Now, you’d perhaps expect-

With the plane grounded, our robot is able to walk his little ass over to a cop car. And when I say walk, I do mean walk; this fucker is in multiple folks’ line of sight and nobody notices a thing. When he enters the car, he’s greeted by the mustachioed driver- the same driver who was operating the helicopter at the beginning of the film. This mustache man is a holographic avatar, one that’s being used by all the Decepticons.

We get our first real taste of Cybertronian language, as our robot- it’s Frenzy, his name is Frenzy- lets everyone know that he’s found a clue to the location of the AllSpark, and, through the power of the internet, knows where to find the guy who’s gonna give them what they need.

Three guesses to who it is, and the first two don’t count.

Back at the Witwicky household, Sam’s car does a runner in the middle of the night. Sam, horrified that his property is being stolen, pursues on a bike, screaming at his dad to call the cops. Sam also calls the cops, as he tears through the neighborhood.

The Camaro breaks into an abandoned building, Sam follows, and we finally get a shot of our audience appeal character. Sam watches in disbelief as a giant yellow space robot shines a beacon into the sky, then makes a video on his flip phone recording the experience. He apologizes to his parents for owning pornographic magazines, and goes to face his probable demise.

However, death does not come from above, instead manifesting itself as two of the strongest junkyard dogs in the known universe, who break their brick-inlaid chains to get at this little dip of a man. Sam is chased through the yard, climbing on top of a couple precarious oil drums, even though there’s a ladder, like, right there. The Camaro rolls in, scaring off the dogs, and Sam bolts, throwing the keys to his ride at his ride. When he gets outside, the cops have arrived, and immediately arrest him.

Back with the US government, the Secretary of State is having a conversation about all the bullshit that just went down with Air Force One. He and his fellow cishet old white men discuss their options, until Maddie comes in to set them straight on some of the facts. They act all indignant about it, because women can’t be smart, right?

Right???

RIGHT??????????

RIGH-

Anyway, we get a weird little deflection of Maddie’s role in everything, because a woman is nothing without the men around her, then she brings up the point that the bullshit that happened on Air Force One went down in just a few seconds, which isn’t something that anyone can actually do. She brings up quantum mechanics, which everyone blows off as nonsense- not that I wouldn’t as well- and theorizes on a DNA-based computer, which is technically a thing, if not trapped in the realm of speculation. It’s at this point that the Secretary of Defense tells her to come back when she can back these wild claims up, and isn’t just clearly spitballing.

And then he snaps his fingers at her, and any point he might have had leaves my brain so I have more room for being enraged.

Back with Sam, we’re at the police station talking to the cops. His dad is here, and Sam is trying to explain that his car is a dude. Even though he took at a video (one that was likely crap, given how quickly he spun his phone around to show off what he was seeing) the cops, understandably, don’t believe him. Then one of them, not so understandably, starts… threatening Sam? With his sidearm? And daring him to try something? This isn’t any sort of statement on the corruption of American law enforcement, it’s just bizarre.

Back in Qatar, our soldier buddies have found a telephone line, and are going to try to use it to get in contact with the rest of the world. It’s just too bad that Scorponok’s decided to make an entrance, and knock said telephone line the hell down. Ed Sheeran has next to no reaction to this, despite it happening maybe ten feet behind him. Fig speaks Spanish, and Ed Sheeran makes a point to be an asshole about it.

Scorponok is about to stab Lennox with his very pointy tail, when Epps notices- finally, someone with peripheral vision- and starts shooting. Then everyone starts shooting, kicking up enough sand to blind themselves, as Scorponok scuttles away, buries himself, then reappears behind Ed Sheeran.

Ed Sheeran does not survive this experience.

The others bolt, not wanting the same to happen to them, and for the fourth time I wonder just why the hell this young boy was at the base in the first place.

Off in the distance, the community of a nearby town wonders just what the shit is going on out in the desert. Our soldiers run into the town, and everyone gets their guns and start firing on Scorponok, who retaliates, because why the hell wouldn’t he?

Lennox demands that the young boy take him to his father, and proceeds to borrow his phone. As shit goes down outside, we have a sort-of gag where Lennox is trying to contact the Pentagon, while a telemarketer tries to get him to buy a phone package. In order for this call to go through, he’s going to need a credit card. This is where the well-known “pocket” scene comes from, as Lennox searches Epps’ pants for his wallet as he fires on Scorponok. It’s probably the best-written thing in this whole film.

With the credit card acquired, Lennox finally gets through to the Pentagon, and tosses Epps the phone so he can talk. Maybe he’s got anxiety about speaking on the phone, I dunno.

Scorponok shows off his disregard for historical architecture, blowing up several buildings, and the US government just watches this all go down. One of the actors in this scene looks like my dad, and it trips me up every time he’s on screen. Anyway, now the Pentagon knows about the giant space robots running around in Qatar. They send over some air support about it. All this manages to do is piss Scorponok off.

So they try it again.

This time it works, sort of.

At the very least, he’s left now.

Tail fell off, though.

Also, Fig’s been grievously wounded. The others, for once, don’t make fun of his native language while they help him hold his blood inside his body.

Back at the Pentagon, Maddie’s looking to prove that the bullshit that’s been going on is of the sci-fi variety, and in order to do that, she’s going to need a little outside help. She takes the information from the Pentagon, slaps it into an SD card, hides that shit in her blush compact, and then runs out the door to Glenn Whitmann’s house. Or, rather, his grandma’s house.

Glenn is a hacker, and shouldn’t be seeing anything that Maddie’s brought him, but everyone knows that confidentiality is for nerds, so whatever.

Back at the Pentagon, Maddie’s immediately been caught. It’s almost like slapping the military network onto an SD card maybe wasn’t such a hot idea. But what do I know?

Glenn takes a look at the soundbite and figures out that there’s a code embedded in the thing in about two seconds. Good to know our tax dollars are being well-spent on the US military, that some dude in his jammies can figure this shit out faster than a whole team of analysts. They figure out that “Project Iceman” is involved with this somehow, and also the existence of Sector Seven. It’s at this point that the FBI busts in. Good. I kind of want Maddie to go to jail for this, because she was about as stupid as she could be handling the situation.

Glenn’s cousin goes through a closed glass door- don’t worry, it’s tempered- and there’s a weird cut before that exact same shot continues, and he’s tackled into the pool. There was no reason for that to have happened, but here we are.

Back with Sam, we’re treated to him in his boxers, shooting basketballs in his room. He goes into the kitchen, where Mojo is standing on a stool. It’s a very tall stool, the sort you sit on, and he’s just… there. I don’t know how he got there. There’s no one else in the room besides Sam, and I know he didn’t put him there.

Clearly this must mean Mojo is God, and being on that stool is his divine will. I will be approaching the rest of the franchise with this in mind, because it’s clearly the only answer.

Our merciful Lord Mojo jumps up on the kitchen counter and begins growling at something through the window. Sam looks out… the opposite window… to find that his Camaro has returned to him, and is less than thrilled about it, to put it lightly. He drops a jug of milk- luckily it was mostly empty, given the sound it makes when it hits the floor- and gives his buddy Miles a call. You remember Miles, don’t you? If you don’t, it’s fine, because he reestablishes his quirkiness with a single shot, as he sits in a swimsuit and bathes his huge-ass dog in a kiddie pool, and answers the phone with a headset he just happened to be wearing. He must get a lot of calls during Dog Washing Hours.


After giving us one of the most intense voice cracks I’ve ever heard, Sam books it out of his house, hopping on a bike to escape his murderous Camaro. He’s not seen the thing commit any murders, mind you, but he seems pretty convinced that it would do the job, given half a chance. Also, this isn’t the bike he rode the night before; that one is likely being chewed on by those strong-ass junkyard dogs. No, for some reason, the Witwickys have a pastel pink girl’s bike, with the fun little handle tassels and the basket and everything. As far as I can tell, Sam is an only child, and if you think Bay’s going to allow for a teenage boy to have the vulnerability to own a pink bike, you’ve not been paying attention for the last 48.5 minutes.

The Camaro gives chase, rolling after Sam on his bike at a brisk 7 MPH down the friggin’ sidewalk, one of the only scenes in this travesty of a film to actually get me to crack a smile. Sam races through town until city planning puts a stop to him, through the magic of using chunks of cement to decorate the mulch around their trees. He crashes his bike, faceplants into the concrete in front of Mikaela, and promptly dies, thus ending the film.

No, he doesn’t die. I just told a fib. I’m sorry.

Instead, he does a flip and lands on his back, likely receiving a concussion, in front of Mikaela and her friends. Her friends laugh, because everyone hates Sam, as they should, and Mikaela says that what he just did was “really awesome.” Don’t try to be nice, Mikaela, this is Sam we’re talking about; you could stick the dude in the freezer overnight and he still wouldn’t be even remotely cool.

Sam gets back to the whole “running away from a car” deal, and Mikaela decides that this is the sort of thing she’d like to do with her day, so she ditches her friends in the middle of their scheduled Burger King™ time to go see what the hell Sam’s on about.

As Sam is chased by the Camaro who is being chased by Mikaela on her motorized scooter, a cop becomes involved, tearing through the streets to join this ridiculous game of tag. Now, we’ve seen two different flavor of cop so far- the mustachioed avatar cop car that picked up Frenzy from the airport, and the dude who threatened a teenage boy with a gun after accusing him of being under the influence of drugs. Either way, I don’t think this is going to turn out well for Sam.

Sam’s cornered himself under one of those really wide bridges where people can park their cars, which wasn’t terribly smart, but it’s Sam, so this is about par for the course. The Camaro manages to miss him, but the cop car does not. Sam is actually pretty cool with the cops being here, as if they could do anything about “Satan’s Camaro.” I guess he didn’t see the decal on the side of this car that says “to punish and enslave…”

Sam attempts to approach the car for help, and gets clotheslined by a car door for his troubles. He hits his head on the pavement, certainly exasperating the brain injury he received not ten minutes ago. Still, he continues to try to talk to the holographic avatar through the windshield, revealing that the bike he’s been riding is his mother’s. Mystery solved, I suppose.

The cop car doesn’t much appreciate being slapped on the hood, and begins to rev violently at Sam, threatening to run him over several times. Then it explodes into being a robot. Sam, who’s seen a lot of really weird shit in the last 24 hours, nopes out of the situation. It’s at this point that I realize he’s wearing a shirt for the band the Strokes. I don’t know why that stuck out to me, but it did. Guess my brain needed something to latch onto during all this.

Sam is running as fast as his little legs allow, as our newest robot friend takes up a leisurely jog to keep pace. Then he kicks Sam. He kicks Sam’s body like the football. This, of course, instantly turns Sam into a bag of jelly and kills him, thus ending the film.

No, he doesn’t die. I just told another fib. I’m sorry.

Sam somehow survives being punted by a giant metal leg and lands in the windshield of a car that doesn’t turn into a robot. Then he gets yelled at by the cop car. This is Barricade, a member of the Decepticons, and Sam’s got something he wants. Or, should I say “LadiesMan217” has something he wants.

LadiesMan217 is Sam’s Ebay username. This is both stupid because no teenage boy existing beyond the year 1985 would have ever called himself that, and also because it’s just stupid.

Barricade wants the glasses Sam presented for his genealogy report, and he wants them NOW. Seeing as the thing he wants is for sale, and nobody had been bidding on it, one would wonder why Barricade and his associates didn’t just try to purchase them like upstanding citizens. Perhaps Decepticons don’t understand the concept of money, or perhaps they don’t have a stable address to have the glasses shipped to. Or perhaps nobody considered that angle when the script was being put together. Who can say?

Sam gets back to running away from Barricade, we see where Mikaela got to, and the two of them collide. Sam rips Mikaela off of her scooter, and they both fall to the ground. Mikaela, who did not buckle the clasp on her helmet, asks Sam what his fucking problem is. Then his problem shows up, and they take a very long time to get up so they can run. So long, in fact, that the Camaro has to swing in to save them. After much pleading from Sam, Mikaela gets inside Satan’s Camaro, and the two of them are whisked away to safety. Barricade pursues, and then the butt rock starts.

There’s a lot of screaming and yelling, the Camaro busts through a window and several shelves in an abandoned building, there’s some drifting, and then suddenly it’s nighttime. Barricade somehow got in front of the Camaro, and is circling like a shark. The Camaro locks the two teenagers inside itself, though I suppose they could climb out through the still-open windows if they really wanted to. The Camaro cuts the engine off, then cuts it back on and bolts for the exit, and this somehow tricks Barricade long enough for them to get past.

The Camaro dumps Mikaela and Sam out one of the doors and then transforms into that yellow space robot we saw a bit ago. It’s Bumblebee! Nearly an hour in, and we finally get a proper look at the little bastard. I guess that’s what happens when you spend the first 20-something minutes on being xenophobic and appealing to the focus groups that think it’s fine sexualize high schoolers.

Bumblebee- no, he’s not introduced himself yet, but I just can’t keep calling him “the Camaro” anymore- comes out of his transformation ready to square the fuck up. Barricade throws himself at Bumblebee, they roll around on the ground for a bit, then things start sparking and exploding, because this is a Michael Bay film. Frenzy jumps out and starts chasing down Mikaela and Sam, while Bumblebee and Barricade murder death punch each other. Frenzy manages to grab Sam by the ankles, drag him to the ground, and rip his pants off. Not sure how that happened, considering he’s still got his shoes on.

While Sam’s busy being chased by a sentient pile of safety pins, Mikaela’s taken it upon herself to be proactive about her survival, and is raiding a nearby building for power tools. She sprints out holding an electric jig saw and saves Sam by decapitating Frenzy. If you know anything about Transformers, then you know this doesn’t actually kill Frenzy, but good on her for being a badass. Why couldn’t Mikaela be our main character again? Oh, right, because she’s a ~girl~.

Sam punts Frenzy’s head, like, 50 yards, which seems like something he shouldn’t be able to do, given that he’s a massive weenie, but there you are. With that out of the way, Sam takes Mikaela’s hand and they run off to go watch the giant robot fight. The bottom of Frenzy’s head turns into a spider and he crawls his way over to Mikaela’s purse. He’s gonna steal her gum, the fiend!

Mikaela and Sam have, unfortunately, missed the giant robot fight, which means that we, as the audience, have also missed the giant robot fight. Which is unbelievably stupid, seeing as everyone who has ever watched this movie came for the GIANT GODDAMN ROBOTS.

Mikaela asks just who the hell the yellow robot is, I guess because she’s finally had a second to process what the hell’s going on. Sam claims that he’s a super-advanced robot, “probably from Japan.” Whether or not this is a reference to the Japanese origins of the original toy line isn’t clear, though somehow I think it’s more xenophobia. Sam also makes the claim that if Bumblebee had intended to hurt them, he would have done it by now. This is quite the jump from a few hours ago, when he was calling the poor guy “Satan’s Camaro.”

Sam finally, finally asks Bumblebee what his deal is, and we get our first taste of the Bayverse Bumblebee Gimmick. The Gimmick here is that, due to an injury to his vocal processing, Bumblebee cannot communicate through traditional means, i.e. speech. Because of this, he instead strings together sentences by flicking through the radio frequencies and choosing key words. This can lead to some interesting audio design, like describing his fellow Autobots to “rain down like visitors form heaven, Hallelujah!” because a radio sermon fit what he was trying to say best.

This gimmick is one that has been used in other pieces of Transformers media, at least in part. Bumblebee is unable to speak traditionally in Transformers: Prime, and instead communicates in beeps and clicks that his teammates can understand, but not so much the humans, save for Raf. In Bumblebee (2018), the idea was used whole-cloth, with the injury resulting in his inability to speak happening on-camera within the first 10 minutes of the movie, and the idea of “expressing oneself through music” being introduced by his human companion Charlie Watson.

All in all, I rather like the idea going on here; it’s an interesting part of his character that opens up for a lot of interesting and creative moments.

It’s just too bad it was introduced in fucking Bayverse.

But yeah, anyway, the other Autobots are coming to Earth. Shit’s gonna be lit.

Bumblebee turns back into a Camaro, and Sam uses the power of FOMO to get Mikaela to go in the car with him. We get a shot of Barricade fucking dying on the side of the road. Frenzy murders Mikaela’s phone, and then steals its identity, including the little bejeweled heart stickers. Good thing Mikaela remembered to go get her purse, otherwise he probably would have felt very silly doing that.

Mikaela refuses to sit in the driver’s seat, seeing as she now knows Sam’s car is sentient, and sort of feels weird about this whole thing. Sam suggests that she sit in his lap instead, as the camera angles to give us a peek at the cup of Mikaela’s bra. When asked why the hell she should do such a thing, Sam says it’s a concern about her safety, given that the middle console of the car does not have a seatbelt. Sam either fails to recognize that seatbelts going over two layered bodies won’t save either of them in the event of a crash, or he’s just trying to make an excuse to have a pretty girl in his lap.

Given what movie this is, I’m going to guess it’s the latter.

Mikaela has a similar line of thought, but scoots over anyway, saying that the seatbelt line was a “smooth move”. It wasn’t, but if I picked apart every single bad line Sam had in this film, I’d be here all day.

Mikaela questions Bumblebee’s taste in alt-mode, which offends him to the point of dumping both her and Sam out in the street and driving away. He returns, moments later, as a sleek new Camaro, that I’m sure some car aficionados would call “sexy.”

Bumblebee’s alt-mode is a 2009 Chevrolet Camaro, of which there were none during the time of filming. It was put together for this movie in roughly five weeks. Sam is blown away by the fact that he now owns a car that does not currently exist in his universe. Mikaela is impressed, or at least she would be, if women were allowed to show that emotion in a non-horny way in a Bay film.

Judy doesn’t count.

As Bumblebee breaks into yet another restricted area, we get a shot of the Earth from orbit, as several objects rocket towards the planet. Sam and Mikaela watch the Autobots burn up in the atmosphere, and Mikaela tries to hold Sam’s hand as they do, and it’s at this point that I have to address how much I hate these two’s dynamic.

I don’t give a single solitary shit about this romance, because A) it’s poorly written, B) Mikaela could do infinitely better than Sam, C) I dislike Sam so very much, D) Mikaela, who is a way more interesting character, got placed on friggin’ love interest duty because ~girl~, and E) it’s useless padding to try and make me care about what’s happening here, and I just DON’T. I do NOT care about whether these two get together or not.

We see the Autobots crash-land, three out of four of them causing massive amounts of property damage and possibly killing at least one person. Their stasis pods crack open, and they each climb out, completely naked and in desperate need of clothing to hide their shame. With a quick scan of nearby vehicles, they’re once again decent to be seen in public.

Bumblebee drives the kids out to what I can only assume is the warehouse district he sent that beacon out in, as our collection of good guys finally come together at long last. A massive Peterbilt semi-truck stops directly in front of Mikaela and Sam.

We’re over an hour into this film, and we’re just now getting to the quintessential Transformer, Optimus Prime himself.

In the original cartoon, Optimus’s alt-mode was what’s known as a cabover truck, one where the cab- where the driver sits- is seated directly over the engine. These were popular during the days when maximum truck-lengths were much shorter than they are currently. This is why when you look at height charts for Optimus over various continuities, his G1 cartoon counterpart much shorter than his other iterations.

Modern trucks are longer, and don’t need the cab to sit on top of the engine to save on space. The designers chose to use a Peterbilt to make sure that Optimus would have an imposing stature when compared to his fellow Autobots.

Because heaven forbid we not have heightism come into play in this film.

Our Autobots transform, and say what you will about these bastards being visually incomprehensible, the transformations themselves are cool as hell. My personal favorite is Jazz’s, where he does a cool windmill into his root mode.

Optimus crouches like he’s looking at a cool bug on the sidewalk and addresses Sam by name. He doesn’t even acknowledge Mikaela, which I find to be a bit rude, but whatever. He then introduces himself as the leader of the Autobots.

Peter Cullen is back as the voice for Optimus Prime, sounding wonderful as always. He almost wasn’t brought on for this project, because Michael Bay didn’t want him. If the fans hadn’t thrown a hissyfit, who knows who we would have gotten to be our space dad for the next hour and a half?

This is actually an issue that’s recurred several times in the last few years, and not just with Cullen; Frank Welker, the voice of Megatron, as well as many other Transformers, has been refused roles within Transformers properties. In general, this is because both Cullen and Welker are union actors, and Hasbro would prefer to hire sound-alikes than pay more money for the originals. This isn’t to shame the non-union actors, goodness no, just to merely point out less-than-fantastic business practices.

I realize there have been a lot of tangents, but you have to understand that I am suffering as I do this.

Optimus then introduces his team- there’s Jazz, whose first line is “What’s crackin’ little bitches?”, Ironhide, who incorrectly quotes Dirty Harry, and Ratchet, who calls out just how obnoxiously horny Sam’s character is. We also finally get Bumblebee’s name.

Mikaela asks the very good question of why the fuck the Autobots are here on Earth. Optimus explains that the AllSpark is here, and they’ve got to get to it before Megatron does. He then goes on to explain who Megatron is, stating that he “betrayed” the Cybertronian empire.

No, how exactly he did that isn’t addressed. We’ll just have to take Optimus’s word, I suppose.

If you’ve sussed out by this point the the AllSpark and the Cube™ are the same thing, congrats! You win. Megatron followed the AllSpark to Earth, where he promptly was neutralized by the cold of the Arctic circle. This was 110 years prior to the events of this film, and where Archibald Witwicky came in to the story.

When the expedition was happening, Archibald fell through the ice during a collapse, and ended up finding Megatron’s frozen body in an ice cave. He went poking around on this strange metal giant, and ended up activating Megatron’s navigation systems, which imprinted the coordinates of the AllSpark onto Archibald’s glasses.

Don’t ask how that works, it just does.

So, the Autobots need the glasses, so they can find the AllSpark before the Decepticons do, so those guys don’t use it to build an army out of Earth’s machines, which will destroy humanity.

Sounds simple enough, let’s go get that vision correction device!

Back with the military dudes, everyone’s taking a gander at the tail that Scorponok left behind. They theorize that the metal that makes up these giant murder-robots reacts to extreme heat, but elaboration on that point will have to wait, because the tail has begun to flail. They quickly strap it down, then call the military to let them know to strap anti-tank guns onto anything that’s going to be approaching any giant robots.

Meanwhile, in an interrogation room, Maddie and Glen have been left to sweat a bit. Glen takes to stress-eating, while framing it as a psychological tactic to subconsciously prove his innocence to the FBI.

This is a fat joke, with the added nasty layer of Glen being a black man about to be interrogated by one of the most intimidating white cops I’ve seen in a hot minute.

Glen immediately folds, pinning all the blame on Maddie, and claiming that he’s been a perfect angel his whole life. We get some weird purity culture out of him, before Maddie lets the FBI know that she needs to talk to the Secretary of Defense, NOW.

Over at the Witwicky household, Sam’s parents are watching the news, trying to find out what all those loud crashes were about. Optimus Prime drives down their residential street, the rest of the gang in tow, then they all park to wait for Sam to go get the glasses.

For about 20 seconds.

Sam has to physically hold the door shut to prevent his father from coming out and seeing several very tall robots from outer space tip-toeing around his freshly-landscaped yard, I guess because they got antsy. Optimus plods around on the grass and breaks a fountain, and our benevolent god Mojo comes out of the house, assuredly to smite the leader of the Autobots.

Mikaela runs onto the scene, and Sam chastises her for not controlling the robots who didn’t even acknowledge her existence, outside of pointing out Sam was sexually attracted to her.

Mojo pees on Ironhide’s foot, which prompts Ironhide to threaten to shoot the creature. This is why Ironhide isn’t getting into heaven. Sam, one of Mojo’s chosen few, claims that the mortal shell of his god is seen as a beloved pet by many humans. Sam runs into the house, before Mojo can incur his divine wrath on the Autobots.

While Sam goes to get the glasses, the Autobots decide to do a little peeping on the house, watching his parents watch TV. Sam tears his room apart trying to find the glasses, and Optimus thinks that it would be helpful if he brought Mikaela up to help look. It’s at this point that I realize that Sam has an utterly bizarre fish tank.

I mean, legitimately, what the fuck is this? No filter, no plants, might not even have any rocks on the bottom. Is this a comically oversized bong Sam threw a couple fish into? What the fuck.

Mikaela starts looking for the glasses, running into what is likely a box of porn mags, then they both look out the window to find that the Autobots have decided to hide in plain sight by transforming... in the middle of Sam’s backyard. Amazing work, gentlemen.

Sam finally convinces the Autobots to go sit in the alley and wait, only for Ratchet to run into a power line and trip into a greenhouse. The resulting impact is interpreted as an earthquake. Judy does not have the reaction one might expect from someone who’s lived in California for at least ten years.

Ratchet’s fine, by the way.

The power cuts out, and Ron goes up to check on his son, because he’s at least a halfway-decent father. Ratchet’s shining a light to aid in the search for the glasses. Sam’s parents notice this bright light, and bang on Sam’s door to see what’s up.

Sam quickly hides Mikaela and then attempts to salvage the situation, answering the door and trying to control the narrative. Unfortunately, Ron is far too inquisitive for Sam to do this, and then Judy asks if Sam was masturbating.

Judy, is privacy just not a thing to you? Because if not, it really ought to be.

She keeps going with it too, trying to come up with code words, until another one of the Autobots trips and causes Ron to panic again, climbing into Sam’s ancient claw-foot bathtub to protect himself. He looks out the window to check on his beloved yard, lamenting that the earthquake tore it up.

Ironhide is strongly considering killing Sam’s parents. Optimus tells him that they don’t harm humans, and also begins to wonder if he made a mistake bringing this guy along.

Back in Sam’s room, it’s becoming increasingly obvious that Sam is an absolutely terrible liar, and Mikaela reveals herself, if only to prevent Judy from trying to talk about self-pleasure again. Of course, now she gets to be subjected to both of Sam’s parents objectifying her, so this might be a lose-lose situation.

Sam is reminded that his backpack is in the kitchen, just in time for the government to show up at his house. Mikaela makes a comment about Judy being nice. I suppose on a surface level, yes, being told that you’re gorgeous by someone’s mom is nice. I do have to question the context that compliment took place in, however.

Sam’s about to hand the glasses over to the Autobots, when someone rings the doorbell. It’s Sector Seven, and they’re here to talk to Sam about his stolen car being part of an issue involving national security. Ron and Judy are more concerned about their yard being torn up, Judy yelling that they “need to get their hands off [her] bush.”

We still have another hour of this movie.

The agent leading this mission asks Sam to come with him for questioning, which his parents are very much against. Mojo also voices his displeasure, but it would seem that Agent Simmons is not a follower of the Tenets of Mojo. Sam gets geigered, and his readings are high enough for Sector Seven to take him and everyone in this house into custody.

As Sam and Mikaela are riding in the back of the car, Simmons brings up Sam’s Ebay account, and also the phone video he took of Bumblebee earlier in the week. Mikaela is rather unimpressed with Sam at the moment, probably because he’s gotten her arrested. She still tries to help him out though, because she really is just the nicest fucking person on the planet.

Alas, the combined efforts of these two teenagers isn’t enough to fool the long arm of the law, especially when it’s a branch of said law that deals with extraterrestrial activity. Simmons threatens to lock up these literal children for life if they don’t start talking. Mikaela isn’t taking the bait, so he goes after her father’s parole hearing instead.

Yep! As it turns out, Mikaela and her father stole cars to get by, and she’s got the record to back that claim up. Simmons calls her a criminal, then says that criminals are hot. Mikaela looks like she’s about to cry, and I don’t blame her in the slightest.

Optimus, I suppose because his dad senses were tingling, takes the opportunity to place his leg in the road for the car to run into, then grabs said car like an unruly cat and lifts it until the roof rips off due to stress. The agents in the other cars pile out and point their guns at the giant space robot. The rest of the Autobots quickly relieve them of their weapons.

Optimus notes that Simmons doesn’t seem surprised that a bunch of giant robots just took all his guys’ guns, and demands that he exit the vehicle, posthaste. Simmons obliges, after a bit more prodding. Mikaela undoes Sam’s handcuffs, and he gets fucking pissy about it, as if this girl he’s had a grand total of three (awkward) conversations with should have told him something as personal as “hey, so my dad’s in jail and I’ve been to juvenile detention.”

Luckily, she doesn’t let him get away with it, calling him out as the spoiled, self-centered, privileged little shithead that he is.

Of course, we don’t get any sort of real acknowledgement from Sam, having to move on with the plot. Perhaps, if we hadn’t spent the last hour and 20 minutes faffing about on drivel, we could have had Sam get an actual moment of self-reflection, and potentially even character growth. However, this is Bayverse, and everyone knows that personal accountability is for fucking sissies.

Mikaela and Sam ask several questions, but get no answers from Agent Simmons. And then Bumblebee pees on him.

I hate that I had to write that. I hate it very much.

Anyway, I don’t know why that had to happen, but it did, and I’m nothing if not thorough.

Optimus tells Bumblebee to cut it out, and with that the Sector Seven agents are cuffs and left on the side of the road. Mikaela orders Simmons to strip, as punishment for threatening her father, then cuffs him to a street lamp.

...Yes, that does sound like a bizarre sexual fantasy, doesn’t it?

Unfortunately for our teen heroes, they forgot to confiscate everyone’s phones, and Sector Seven knows what’s up, thanks to the power of speakerphone. More cars and a couple of helicopters show up basically immediately, and the Autobots decide it’s time to dip.

But not before Ironhide fires off a pulsewave into the ground that causes a five-car pileup.

Optimus, I suppose because he knows he chose a ridiculously flashy alt-mode that is in no way practical, just picks the kids up in and places them on his shoulder like a couple of parakeets, then takes up a leisurely jog to get away from the eyes in the sky. He runs through the city, racking up what is likely millions in property damage, as the helicopters pursue. He passes by a “Legalize LA” billboard, which feels odd to see, given what movie this is.

The ‘copters somehow manage to lose Optimus, despite him being relatively slow, and having a notable radiation level that they’ve been using to track him. He hides inside the scaffolding of a bridge, only for Mikaela and Sam to slip off of his polished body to their deaths, thus ending the film.

No, they don’t die. I just told another fib. I’m sorry.

Bumblebee snatches them up just before they hit the ground, the impact of his metal body catching them at 75 mph, killing them instantly and ending the film.

Nope, that doesn’t happen either.

Mikaela and Sam are fine, some-fucking-how, but Sam’s dropped the MacGuffin glasses. The helicopters swing back around, having noticed the sound of a car crashing into the ground and the screams of two whole adolescents. They break out a fucking harpoon gun and fire on our kid appeal character.

Repeatedly.

They wrap up Bumblebee in a series of cables, as he screams like a moose. Mikaela and Sam are held at gunpoint by what is honestly far too many dudes, and are then arrested for the second time in ten minutes. Bumblebee is smoked... because he’s a bee? Sam, not liking this one bit, finds the strength in his weenie body to push a cop off of himself, run at one of the dudes with the smoke guns, throw him to the ground, and then start smoking him. He’s immediately tackled, but points for trying.

Sam and Mikaela are placed back into custody, and the rest of the Autobots regroup with Optimus to see what the plan is. Optimus says that they can’t save Bumblebee without hurting humans, so I guess Bumblebee is just a POW now. Well, at least they got the glasses. That’s cool.

Back at the Pentagon, things are getting dicey, as the other world powers are starting to suspect that something’s up. The Secretary of Defense is approached by a man with a mustache and a briefcase. He’s from Sector Seven, but the Secretary gives not a fuck about mysterious organizations. All the computers in the room suddenly go down, the virus from earlier working its magic- only this time, the blackout is global.

Mr. Mustache opens his briefcase, while explaining that Sector Seven is something known as a “special access” sector of the government, which is why nobody’s ever heard of it; it’s beyond top secret. Commissioned by President Herbert Hoover 80 years prior, it deals with alien life.

When the Beagle 2 spacecraft was lost on the way to Mars in 2003, the mission was declared a failure. This was a lie. The Beagle 2 recorded several seconds of Mars before being crushed to death by a Transformer. This tidbit is pretty funny, given that the Beagle 2 was rediscovered on Mars in 2014, seven years after this film released. Not a terribly mysterious death anymore, is it?

Comparing the footage from Mars to the footage from Qatar has Sector Seven thinking that these are the same species. Which they are. God, it’d be so fucked up if there were two species of giant robots in this film.

Mr. Mustache theorizes that because the Transformers now know that they can be harmed by human weaponry, they’re being proactive about their safety and shutting down all forms of communication technology with that virus that keeps popping up. It’s only a matter of time before the shit hits the fan for humanity.

Mr. Secretary tells his guys to try going analog with comms, breaking out the short-wave radios, to tell their ships to return home.

Over at an Air Force base, Lennox and the gang have landed, only to be scooped up by a bunch of dudes in suits.

Back with Maddie and Glen, the two of them have fallen asleep in the interrogation room, Maddie still wearing her friggin’ four inch pumps as her legs are propped up on the table, crossed in a way that seems rather uncomfortable. Glen gets to sleep like a normal human being, with his head resting on his forearms. Why this place doesn’t have a holding cell for these situations is beyond me.

Mr. Secretary comes in to bring Maddie on as his advisor. Glen can come too, I guess, considering he’s the one who actually figured out the sound file virus.

We get a little military glorification, and then it’s revealed that Mikaela and Sam, as well as Maddie and Glen, are aboard this helicopter. Their paths cross at last. Our heroes are transported to the Hoover Dam, where Bumblebee is also. They are still smoking him.

Meanwhile, the Autobots are figuring out where to go, with the power of Archibald’s glasses. Ratchet, who I guess is omnipotent, senses that the Decepticons have also figured out the location, and that this is going to be a race against the clock. And I mean, he’s right, but the phrasing is a bit odd.

Jazz wants to know when they’re going to save Bumblebee. Optimus says that they aren’t, and that Bumblebee’s sacrifice is noble, and that he would want the Autobots to leave him and complete the mission. As this is said, we get another shot of Bumblebee getting smoked and trapped in a lab. Yep, this is totally what he would want. He absolutely signed up for this, giving himself up to the government and not at all fighting like mad to not be captured.

I don’t think Bayverse Optimus actually knows what martyrdom is, which is bizarre, given that it’s a major trait in a lot of other iterations of the character.

Ironhide isn’t even sure why they’re bothering to save humanity, given that humans are violent and awful, his point being hammered home as Bumblebee is tortured for scientific reasons. Ironhide seems to have forgotten that Cybertron has been at war for literally millions of years. Optimus has faith in humanity, however, stating that we’re “young”.

And then he says that he’s going to end his own race, by destroying the Cube™, which is how they reproduce, because that’s the only way to end the war.

Which is arguably one of the most hardcore fictional applications of eugenics ever conceived.

Being advocated for by Optimus Goddamn Prime.

We still have another 50 minutes of this movie.

Optimus then proves that he does, in fact, know what self-sacrifice is, stating that, if all else fails, he’ll shove the AllSpark into his spark, which will destroy them both. He’s pretty chill about it, too.

Up on top of the Hoover Dam, Frenzy has fallen out of Mikaela’s bag.

Mr. Secretary is also at the Hoover Dam now, as is Lennox’s team. Oh, and Agent Simmons, who is thankfully wearing pants. He offers to buy Sam a coffee, as repartitions for threatening his family, arresting him, and being a complete creep to a teenage girl. Sam gives not a fuck about caramel macchiatos with extra foam and chocolate drizzle, however. He only cares about his car.

Mr. Mustache, who is also here, needs Sam to spill the beans on all these friggin’ giant robots that are running around. This is where Sam realizes he has the upper hand for once, and he starts making demands. One such demand is having Mikaela’s record scrubbed clean, which is an actually very nice thing for him to have done for her. We’ll see if his intent comes to fruition. For now, it’s time to talk about Bumblebee.

We get a shot of all these folks heading into the secret base hidden inside the Hoover Dam, and it’s at this point that I notice that Maddie’s shirt is basically see-through.

Inside the Dam, we see that Sector Seven′s been keeping Megatron this entire time, keeping him neutralized with cryo-stasis since 1935. Cryopreservation was invented in the 50′s. This isn’t a nitpick, I just thought it was a neat little fact.

Megatron being on Earth has resulted in most modern technology. This sort of plot point always bothers me, because it takes away agency from the entire human race. We didn’t use our own ingenuity and work ethic to advance society, we plagiarized from a more advanced species. I dunno, it just rubs me the wrong way.

We get the part of the movie where info is hashed out, so that everyone is on the same page, Sam spouting off Autobot propaganda. We can forgive him for this,considering he’s 16, and no one is immune to propaganda, especially when they have zero way of doing their own research to form their own opinion with.

Sector Seven also has the AllSpark, kept in the room next to Megatron’s, like the chumps they will soon find themselves to be. It’s about ten stories tall and the reason the Hoover Dam exists. With so much concrete suppressing its alien energies, surely no one will ever find it!

Except for Frenzy, who came in through a mouse hole. Whoopsie-doodle!

The AllSpark zaps the nasty little man, restoring his body with its weird MacGuffin powers. Frenzy tells all his coworkers that he found what they were looking for, and everyone starts heading over.

Maddie asks Mr. Mustache what exactly he means by “energies”, perhaps worried that this whole thing has been some elaborate ploy to get her to invest in magic healing stones. Mr. Mustache brings everyone into a testing chamber, since the best way to explain how the AllSpark works is through a demonstration.

There’s a big fish tank in the middle of this testing chamber, in which Agent Simmons places a donated device from the crowd- Glen’s Nokia phone, specifically. Simmons makes a geologically-confused comment. When this is pointed out by Maddie, Mr. Secretary hushes her, simply saying that Simmons is a strange man. The tank is locked down, and then the show starts.

Cube™ energies are shot into the tank, and the phone explodes into life, transforming into a gorilla-shaped gremlin creature. Happy birthday, little dude!

Little dude starts shooting at the tank walls, cracking the glass until Simmons pulls the trigger and ends it. Happy deathday, little dude!

The Decepticons are making tracks towards the Hoover Dam, but Starscream- yeah, he’s in this now, don’t worry about it- arrives first, because he is a very fast jet. He transforms, showing off his ridiculous Dorito body, and fires on the base’s generators. The resulting explosions can be heard all the way down in the testing chamber, and Mr. Mustache calls upstairs to see what’s up. Looks like Megatron may be getting warmed up, seeing as his ice bath has been cut off. Lennox asks if there’s an arms room in Sector Seven, which sort of feels like asking a bakery if they have any flour.

Frenzy has entered the room that houses the controls for the cryo-stasis and set that whole system to “no, thank you”.

Mr. Mustache runs through the base, screaming for everyone to get to the Megatron chamber. Off in the distance, the Autobots approach. Could probably used some fliers on your team, huh Optimus?

Back with Frenzy, he’s decided to just straight-up raise Megatron’s core temperature directly. Hope he doesn’t do it too fast; rewarming hypothermia victims recklessly can do some serious damage.

Outside of the base, Lennox and the boys are loading up with weaponry, along with what’s the entirety of Sector Seven′s cannon-fodder department. Oh, and all the main cast. Yep, just got a couple of teenagers chillin’ in the munitions room.

Sam wants Simmons to take him to his car- he hasn’t used Bumblebee’s name in a hot minute, not sure what’s up with that- even though Simmons is currently busy loading a very large gun. Simmons doesn’t want to do that, because he’s got no idea if what Sam mentioned earlier is even true, and he doesn’t want to pin the fate of humanity on a single Camaro. Lennox takes this opportunity to tackle Simmons, despite likely not knowing that Bumblebee is one of the “good guys”. A Sector Seven guy very much doesn’t like that, and points a gun at Lennox, which prompts all of his guys to also start threatening folks with guns.

Mr. Mustache walks in on the scene, but doesn’t do anything, since he isn’t armed and knows better than to tangle with someone who’s packing. Simmons tries to intimidate Lennox, because he must have missed the day of boot camp where they tell you that guns kill people. Lennox is fully committed to shooting this dude in the lungs before Mr. Secretary suggests he give the people what they want, before things get ugly.

Simmons takes everyone to the robot torture department of Sector Seven, where they are still smoking Bumblebee. Geez, you’d think they’d have something in place for if they ever came across another giant robot after Megatron, but I guess not. The gang gets everyone to stop smoking Bumblebee, which allows him to stop moose-screaming and strongly consider murdering everyone involved with his forced captivity. Unfortunately, revenge with have to wait, as we’ve still got to deal with the AllSpark, and the fact that the Decepticons are here.

They take Bumblebee to the AllSpark, where he makes direct contact the thing, causing the AllSpark to transform, compacting itself down into a far more reasonable size that Bumblebee can carry in one hand. It doesn’t seem to weigh more than a grown adult, if his body language is saying anything. I’d make a joke about the conservation of mass being ignored, but since this is Transformers, I can’t really say much. Conservation of mass doesn’t exist for this franchise.

Bumblebee would really like to get this show on the road, and Lennox agrees, quickly formulating a plan to get away from Megatron and taking the AllSpark to Mission City, which is relatively close to their current location, so that they can hide it there.

Lennox, I know this plan is a first draft, and we don’t have a ton of time for revisions, but the whole point of building a whole-ass dam around the Cube™ was because it was very difficult to hide, given its magical MacGuffin powers. Regardless of this flaw, Mr. Secretary agrees. Lennox also asks that the Air Force be involved in this, I guess because the U.S. military wanted more screentime.

Of course, that whole “global blackout” thing is still going on, so we’re going to have to get creative with how we’re going to contact the Air Force. Mr. Secretary and Simmons make a break for the WWII-era radio Sector Seven has, while Lennox and the boys head out to shoot things, and Mikaela and Sam hop into Bumblebee with the Cube™.

This is about the point that Megatron wakes up. The first thing he does is introduce himself, which I thought was very polite of him. Then he breaks out his flail and starts bashing shit around. Not so polite, that.

Over with Bumblebee, we’re shown that the AllSpark, all-powerful object that can create life and is the whole reason this conflict is even happening, is just chillin’ in the back seat by itself. It’s not even buckled up.

Megatron escapes the base, and it’s actually super easy. He just transforms, goes through the tunnel, and he’s free. I feel like we could have at least attempted some security measures for in case the cryo-stasis failed, given that we’ve had this dude in containment for the last 70-something years, but okay.

Starscream comes over to say hi to his boss, not that Megatron gives a shit. He just wants to know where that fucking Cube™ is. When Starscream tells him that the humans have it, Megatron makes a comment about how Starscream has failed him yet again. This is their first interaction in this movie, and Starscream’s been in the story for a grand total of five minutes at this point. I know that this is a reference to their dynamic in just about every installment of the franchise up to this point, but it doesn’t feel earned in the slightest. Even if it’s going to be expanded upon in future sequels, this is a shit-tier way to set their (awful) relationship up.

Not that anyone should ever bank on getting a sequel anyway, but that’s a discussion for another time.

Megatron tells Starscream to retrieve the AllSpark, and then we cut over to the radio plotline. The radio, which is so cobweb-covered I feel like Sector Seven needs to have a serious discussion with their custodial staff, has its nobs and buttons fiddled with by Simmons until it crackles to life. But where are the microphones? Everyone starts looking for the mics, as Simmons pushes Glen into the seat, I guess because hacking modern computers and using Depression-era radio tech are similar enough.

Maddie asks Glen if he can hotwire a 90′s-era computer to transmit a tone through the radio, so that they can send a Morse code message to the Air Force. Which sounds ridiculous to me, but I don’t know enough about radios or computers to know if that sort of thing would be possible. Maybe it’s fine. Or maybe it’s Hollywood bullshit. Who knows?

Back over with Bumblebee, we get a bunch of car commercial shots, of both him and the other Autobots. Aww, the gang’s back together again! Nobody tell Bumblebee that Optimus was completely cool with leaving him to his fate.

Optimus and the gang whip around to join the convoy, and everyone makes their way towards Mission City.

Back at the radio subplot, someone’s bangin’ on the door, trying to get in. The others try to block the intruder, while Glen does his hacking stuff. Mr. Secretary breaks a case and pulls out a gun that’s about as old as he is.

Glen gets the computer working, and Mr. Secretary gives him the Super Secret Military Codewords™ to use to talk to the Air Force. While he does that, Simmons finds a flamethrower and starts burning Frenzy as he attempts to enter the room. The Air Force receives the message for an air strike. Oh, goody.

Over with the convoy, it appears that the Autobots and Lennox’s boys are being pursued by the Decepticons. It’s difficult to tell, seeing as the cameras have gone full Bay-mode, but I’m guessing that’s what’s up. One of the Decepticons flips over a minivan, likely killing a family of five. another causes a multi-car pileup.

Bonecrusher transforms, then Optimus transforms. Bonecrusher iceskates across the highway, slamming into a bus so hard it just straight-up explodes. He is on fire. He tackles Optimus, and they proceed to fall off the side of the raised highway they’re on. Then they beat the shit out of each other, until Optimus decapitates Bonecrusher with his arm-sword.

Yeah, space dad is a little intense in the Bayverse.

Back at Sector Seven, Frenzy’s decided to leave the door alone, and instead is crawling through the ventilation shaft. Mr. Secretary and Simmons fire off shots into the duct above them, as if bullets would do anything against this nasty little pile of needles.

Frenzy bursts through the bottom of the duct and crash-lands into a glass case, taking cover behind a pillar and fires on the humans on the other side of the room. While this shootout is happening, Glen receives a response from the Air Force, just in time for Frenzy to accidentally decapitate himself with one of his own spinning blades of death. This time, he does not survive losing his head.

The Air Force will be sending fighter planes to Mission City, and to establish this, we get several shots of what some might call “military porn.”

Over in the city, the convoy has arrived. Lennox hands several short-wave radios over to Epps, telling him to use them to direct the Air Force when they arrive, so they can take the AllSpark... somewhere, I guess. Above, an F-22 zooms across the sky. It is not one of the Air Force’s F-22s.

Ironhide recognizes Starscream, and gets ready to throw down. Bumblebee grabs a nearby Furby truck and hoists it up to use as a shield. This marginally works, as the missile that hits the truck doesn’t immediately kill him, though it probably did all those Furbies inside.

The resulting explosion throws all the humans around, Mikaela getting weird heaven lighting as she lies unconscious on the pavement. Sam gets it too, though, so I suppose I can’t complain too much about this particular shot. They touch hands. I really wish that I could take this moment of vulnerability as being anything other than an attempt to set up a romance between these two teens who have known each other for maybe half a week. This movie has so starved me of genuine human interaction I'm jumping at the smallest of scraps.

Bumblebee actually didn’t get out of that missile-strike unscathed, his legs having been blown off. All those Furbies died for nothing. Tragic. Sam asks Bumblebee if he’s alright, and immediately tells him to get up. Sam then remembers that Bumblebee’s legs are off, so he yells for Ratchet.

Over with Lennox and Epps, they’ve realized that the plane they saw wasn’t one of theirs. Which, you know, has already been established, but points for getting caught up, fellas. Sam is crying and still telling Bumblebee to get up. Bumblebee is dragging himself across the pavement and whimpering. It’s awful. Where the fuck is Ratchet? This is basically the only reason he’s in this film, and he’s nowhere to be found.

The actual Air Force calls on the radio, asking for their location. Brawl, who is a tank, starts firing on Lennox’s gang. Jazz and Ratchet race through the city streets. How they were separated from the rest of the team is anyone’s guess.

Sam takes a little sit on the pavement to be with Bumblebee, while Mikaela decides to problem-solve and heads for a nearby tow truck. Bumblebee hands Sam the Cube™ because, as the designated protagonist, it’s his job to handle it in the climax of the film.

Ironhide is shot at several times by Brawl, narrowly avoiding being hit each time. This, of course, means that the people he drives by in this shot are almost assuredly dead, since they’re right next to the explosions. He transforms and does a flip, as the film goes slow-mo on a shot of a woman in a low-cut dress watching him flip. She screams. Ironhide screams. I scream, though probably for a different reason.

Jazz jumps on Brawl, managing to kick off a couple pieces of kibble before Brawl grabs him and throws him into the side of a building. Ironhide, Optimus, and Ratchet descend on Brawl, and so does Lennox’s team, Brawl losing a hand and getting thrown into his own building as a result.

Mikaela breaks into the tow truck and starts to hotwire that shit. Wow, a relevant back story that culminates in her being able to save the day, thus completing her arc and staying on-theme for her character. Why isn’t Mikaela the protagonist again?

Oh, right, because ~girl~.

Megatron lands in a nearby alleyway, and Ratchet, knowing this dude is bad news, tells everyone to head for the hills. Jazz isn’t fast enough, however, and gets shot for his troubles.

Mikaela drives the truck over to Sam, who is still sitting there with the Cube™, and tells him to get his ass in gear.

Jazz gets taken to the top of a nearby building and is ripped in two by Megatron, who acts like a bird of prey the whole sequence. Down on the ground, Brawl is starting to get back up from his smackdown. Blackout appears on a nearby skyscraper. Things are looking grim for humanity.

Mikaela and Sam hook Bumblebee up to the tow line as Lennox approaches them. Sam has left the AllSpark out of his line of sight, like a fool. Despite seeing this, Lennox still gives him the flare to let the military know where to pick up the AllSpark. Doesn’t even acknowledge Mikaela. He tells Sam to head for the white building with statues on top of it and set the flare on top of the roof. Lennox can’t leave his men, because he’s the head of his operation. Why he can’t send literally anyone else who isn’t a 16 year-old boy isn’t made clear.

Sam really doesn’t want to do this, probably because he’s a child, but Lennox has recruited him to the military against his will, so he must. Lennox then attempts to make Mikaela leave for her own good, but she tells him to fuck off, because she’s gonna save Bumblebee. Clearly, this is a win for feminism.

Epps radios the choppers coming from the Air Force to let them know they’ll be picking up a package from a teenager, thus locking Sam into the job. Ironhide and Ratchet vow to protect Sam from the Decepticons on his way to the pickup point. Not one single person has pointed out how fucked up this is.

Sam starts to run off, when Mikaela stops him to let him know that she’s glad she got in the car with him roughly an hour ago. They don’t kiss goodbye, which, honestly? Good. This fucking movie hasn’t earned that. Sam for sure hasn’t earned that, even if he did clear her juvie record. No word on that having actually been done, by the way. Sam never got confirmation, and I feel like he’s not really the type to follow up on things.

Brawl fires off some shots and makes things explode. Ratchet and Ironhide provide cover fire as Sam sprints down the road. Yep, they’re making this idiot WALK to the pickup point. Sure hope the elevators are working today, otherwise this is going to take forever.

Sam carries the AllSpark like a football, and in a better movie, this would have been foreshadowed by Sam having actually been a football player prior to the events of the film, perhaps removed from the team for some character flaw he’s since grown from/accepted. However, this is Bayverse, and well, men don’t have to justify their existence in the story with things like themes and having even an ounce of thought put into their character.

Back with Mikaela, Lennox has refused to learn her name, calling her “girl” as he screams at her to get Bumblebee hooked up to the tow truck. Which she was already doing when he got here. Lennox, dude, you’ve got a daughter now, you’re super extra not allowed to treat women like this.

Optimus Prime pulls through an alleyway and crashes into a pile of garbage. I can forgive him being late, seeing as he is a big rig, and probably had to take the long way into town so he didn’t get stuck in too-low tunnels. Don’t worry about how we briefly saw him during the Brawl take-down. This is his for real entrance into the climax.

He whips around and transforms, ready to throw the fuck down. Megatron spots him from his perch and descends.

Y’know.

Like a vast, predatory bird.

Megatron shoots at Optimus in his alt-mode, and Optimus catches him like a frisbee. Unfortunately for Optimus, it would appear that the horsepower on a Cybertronian flightcraft is hella intense, and he’s carried away. The two of them crash through an office building, then roll around in the streets punching each other in the face, debating the worth of humanity as they do so. Wish I actually gave a shit about either of these people, but alas! The film spent most of its runtime objectifying women and insulting minorities. I know nothing about Optimus, and even less about Megatron.

Megatron transforms his arms into a laser gun, and Optimus does the same. They shoot at each other. Optimus gets thrown into a building, then lands on the sidewalk below, definitely crushing a dude underneath him, but I guess we didn’t check that the shot was clear for where the CGI was gonna go, so he’s fine.

Sam’s still running through the streets, while Blackout murders, like, so many people behind him. Starscream lands in front of Sam, running into roughly 30 cars as he skids to a halt. Ratchet and Ironhide fire on him, as Sam takes a breather behind a car. Starscream transforms and blasts off. He was here for about 15 seconds. Sam begins running again.

Megatron is now following Sam, because he wants that Cube™. Sam is hit by a car- not an evil one, just a regular car- and trips. The impact makes the AllSpark activate, which grants several machines in the vicinity the gift of life, including the car full of bitchy women that just hit Sam, who are upset that hitting a human being might have scratched the paint.

I get it, you hate women, can we PLEASE stop beating this dead horse?

Sam finally gets to the pickup building, which turns out to be abandoned and fenced off. Good thing the gate was open, otherwise things could get really complicated. He heads inside, Megatron crashing through a floor-to-ceiling window shortly behind him. Megatron makes the claim that he can smell where Sam is. I’m going to choose to believe that he isn’t lying here, since Ratchet did something similar earlier.

Sam finds the stairs, and Megatron calls him a slur.

He doesn’t, really, but the voice modulation certainly makes it sound that way.

While this is happening, Mikaela is driving the tow truck down an alley, dragging Bumblebee behind her with the tow cable. She stops for a moment to have a short breakdown, seeing as she is a teenager in what is currently a warzone.

Sam is still running up the stairs. Outside, the military shoots at one of the Decepticons. It is, of course, doing absolutely nothing to the giant metal space robot. Mikaela concludes her moment, looking back at Bumblebee, who gives her the okay to keep going with dragging his ass across the pavement. She whips the truck around and tells Bumblebee “I’ll drive, you shoot.”

Mikaela then proceeds to speed down a main road of this sizable city backwards, running into cars and more or less shoving Bumblebee along to his destination.

The military has finally realized that their efforts have been pointless, but it’s okay because Bumblebee is here with his superior firepower. Bumblebee proceeds to shoot Brawl in the chest, which kills him. After this, he tries to act cute, lifting up his battle mask in a very “did I do that?” way, as if he’s not the same guy who ripped Barricade apart earlier.

Sam, meanwhile, has finally reached the top of this dilapidated building. Helicopters are approaching his location, but will they make it to him before Megatron does? Honestly, I’d be more worried about Starscream on the building just due East.

Sam is just about to hand the AllSpark over, when Starscream fires at the ‘copter, causing it to crash and nearly chop Sam to pieces. Optimus Prime runs towards the scene, on a roof that I refuse to believe could actually support him. Megatron punches thought the roof from the bottom and asks Sam some philosophical questions. Sam can’t answer, given that he’s hiding on the edge of this building, his flimsy grip on one of the angel statues being the only thing keeping him from falling.

Megatron tells him to give him the AllSpark, and in exchange he might not kill him immediately. Sam tells him to fuck off, and Megatron flails the chunk of building he was hanging on to, causing Sam to fall to his death, thus ending the film.

I’m lying to you. Michael Bay is making me into a liar.

No, Sam is, instead, caught by Optimus, very likely breaking several ribs on impact. This is the point where I realize that they’ve given Optimus fingernails. Sam clings to him like a baby koala, as Optimus parkours down the sides of two buildings, Megatron in pursuit. Megatron actually lands on Optimus 2/3rds of the way down, causing the both of them to fall onto the pavement below. How Sam survives this is a mystery.

Megatron recovers from the fall first, flicking a human away from him for having the audacity to exist in his space. The flicked person hits a car, and is almost assuredly dead. At least, I sure hope so, given that this is the director cameo by the Bayman himself.

Feminist icon Megatron?

Feminist icon Megatron.

Optimus comments on the fact that Sam almost fucking died to get the AllSpark out of dodge, and we get the return of “No Sacrifice, No Victory”. Which, I mean, I guess he’s allowed to say that, since he’s actually had to do something that warranted it. His dad doesn’t get to, though.

Optimus then tells this teenage boy, who has already had a hell of a day, to kill him by shoving the AllSpark into his robot-soul-heart, should he be unable to defeat Megatron.

I dunno, I just feel like it’s a bit of an ask.

Sam climbs off of Optimus so the Prime and Megatron can rumble. He runs through the ruined infrastructure of the city, so he’s less likely to be crushed. Optimus tells Megatron to square the fuck up, stating that “one shall stand, one shall fall.”

Then he gets ragdolled around a bunch, so maybe he should have saved the talk for later in the game.

The military is running around some more, stopping in an alley to see Blackout transform to root mode. Yes, the goo-goo eyes were indeed made by several members of the watch party that started this whole thing. People went wild for Rotor-Cape Johnson.

The fighter jets from the US military are arriving in a minute. Epps warns them to aim for the robots that aren’t evil. Lennox and the gang spread out, reminding each other to aim for the underboob, since Transformers’ armor is weak there. Epps marks Blackout with a little green light, which Blackout almost immediately notices. Blackout fires on the military.

Lennox has stolen a motorcycle and is driving through the streets to circle back around and jump off of the bike, sliding on his back to shoot Blackout directly in his underboob. Wonder what his uniform is rated for for road rash.

Sam is watching as Optimus gets his ass handed to him. Up in the sky, Starscream commits identity theft, and then attacks the Air Force. The Air Force can multitask however, and light Megatron the fuck up. Sam has, for some reason, come out of hiding, and Megatron uses this to his advantage, trying to take the AllSpark from him.

Optimus tells Sam to put the AllSpark in his chest, but Sam has a better idea. He shoves it into Megatron’s chest, which has been basically shot open at this point. Megatron makes a Space Invader noise, convulses a bit, then falls over dead.

Congrats on your first murder, Sam.

Optimus tells Megatron’s corpse that he got what was coming to him, then implies that they’re brothers. What flavor of brother isn’t established, but neither was basically anything between the two main faces of the franchise in this film, so it’s fine.

Ironhide walks up holding the two halves of Jazz. Optimus informs Sam that he now has a life-debt to this child. Whether or not Sam is absorbing any information at this point is up in the air. Mikaela shows up, with Bumblebee in tow.

In tow.

In tow-

Sam stares at her blankly. Mikaela stares back, making the pretty girl face. Man, what a great dynamic these two have.

Jazz is dead. That sucks. Optimus is handed his corpse to hold, while he thanks his new friends for helping out.

Then Bumblebee talks and he’s fucKING BRITISH.

Sam is obviously shocked by the fact that Bumblebee is British able to talk now, since not talking has been his whole thing up to this point. Optimus doesn’t let it phase him. Neither does Ratchet, despite having been working on Bumblebee’s throat injury for centuries at this point.

Bumblebee wants to stay on Earth with Sam. Optimus is just like whatever. Sam agrees to have a sweet Camaro from outer space.

Optimus pulls what is left of the AllSpark out of Megatron’s chest. I’m sure that’s not a setup for potential conflicts, not in the slightest.

Over in Washington, D.C., the US President has ordered Sector Seven be terminated, and all the Transformer corpses be disposed of. And by “disposed of” they mean “thrown into the ocean.” Dang, sure hope Earth signed some sort of agreement with the Transformers so that they never come to Earth again. You know, just be proactive about our galactic safety.

The Linkin Park kicks on, as Optimus gives us our bookend narration, telling us what the Autobots plan to do now that their race is at a genological dead end. As he does, we see Lennox reunite with his wife and child, who I had genuinely forgotten were in this movie.

Optimus is pretty chill with Cybertron dying out, because now they know about Earth. We get a shot of Sam and Mikaela making out, a shot that becomes more and more horrifying the further they zoom out, because they’re making out on top of Bumblebee. Who they KNOW is a sentient creature at this point.

And then it gets even worse, because the shot changes, and oh hey! Turns out that the rest of the Autobots were just chillin’ off to the side while this went down. Optimus continues his monologue, just walking around in his root mode as he tells all of Makeout Point how they’re “robots in disguise” now.

The monologue is actually a transmission he’s sending out into space, inviting any of his leftover pals to come kick it on Earth with them, because Earth is pretty cool.

And that’s where they leave us.

IT TOOK THREE PEOPLE TO WRITE THIS SCHLOCK.

So. Bayverse 1. A film showcasing xenophobia, misogyny, and toxic nationalism. It’s rough. Is it the worst film I’ve ever seen? Not even close, but it’s bad, and it was a huge deal at the time of release. Everyone was seeing it, everyone knew the actors and robots, everyone had a scene that they liked. Everyone was exposed to Bayverse, and as a result, a lot of people entered the Transformers franchise thinking that it was all like this.

And really, how far off would they have been in 2007?

When a franchise refuses to introduce female characters until years after being established, when all those female characters have the exact same body type, when a franchise hires misogynists to write stories, when it allows shit like “Prime’s Rib!” to be published- no wonder Michael Bay was approached to direct.

What a mess.

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

COMING SOON:

TRANSFORMERS: REVENGE OF THE FALLEN (2009) - MEGAN FOX I AM SO FUCKING SORRY

TRANSFORMERS: DARK OF THE MOON (2011) - WILL YOU JUST STAY DEAD

TRANSFORMERS: AGE OF EXTINCTION (2014) - SHUT UP ABOUT THE LAW SHUT UP ABOUT THE LAW

TRANSFORMERS: THE LAST KNIGHT (2017) - ACTUALLY, FUCK CONTINUITY

#transformers #bayverse #part one #maccadam #Hannzreads #Hannzwatches #text post #long post #film analysis #off topic

[batarella]

3 birds 1 stone - BLUE

From a world once so cruel, that never seemed to have granted them the time enough to be together, it’d never built up into anything more perfect.

WORDS: 7785 WARNINGS: Sexual Content

MASTERLIST | 3 BIRDS 1 STONE MASTERLIST | RED | YELLOW

-----

Dick:

It was concerning how at the moment he stepped into the narrow elevator, he wasn’t the least bit surprised at the pile of animal shit at the corner. It wasn’t until the doors closed when he noticed it, or rather his nose did, and he had to clog his nostrils just so he doesn’t pass out on the floor.

“Gar!?” he yelled just as the doors opened. No one was there, save for Raven with a book sitting at the couch. She didn’t glance at him. “Gar, I swear if you took a shit in the elevato-“

“That wasn’t me!”

Gar’s voice came from the kitchen, panting and occupied with something unruly. Then he heard plates falling to the floor, breaking, then there was a whimper. Not one that came from a human.

“Then who was it!?”

His question was soon answered, when a dog, a brown-furred mutt, sprinted out into the living room with a strip of bacon lodged in its teeth. “Gar!”

“I told you!”

Gar came out of the kitchen with a leash that had been ripped. “It wasn’t me!”

“You brought a dog into the tower?!”

“It was hungry!”

The mutt had finished off the bacon and headed straight for Raven’s lap. She gave it a scratch under its ear.

“Not on the couch,” Dick said.

“But Dick-“

“You’re not allowed on the couch either,” he told Gar. The boy murmured something Dick couldn’t hear, and after a second, no longer was he a boy but a green parrot. It squealed against Dick’s ear before it flew to Raven’s book.

“Jesus-“ he rubbed his ear. “I’m not in the mood.”

“SQUAWK-,” the parrot said. “WHAT’S UP WITH YOU?”

Having some coherent answer to that would only cement it as some grueling reminder. Hell, even thinking about it hurts more than the coward’s way out of pretending the past year never even happened. But then again, here he was, back in the Titan’s Tower to escape from the love of his life he could never be with and force himself into this infernal damnation of having forever to get over her. Here. Thousands of miles away. Where he’d only have his thoughts to battle and nothing else.

But all he said was: “Nothing.”

Dick should have told her, at least. Given her that kind of closure instead of his current disappearing act without so much as a note or a text or even a notice memo at the manor’s announcement board, which Alfred insisted with there being eight kids around.

But being away will be good. For her. For him. The first step to moving on. And with that, cutting all ties. Make it hurt less for both of them.

Maybe not all ties. He’ll have to go back to Gotham soon enough. But at least he was trying something. Not like the past five, six, seven years. God, has it really been that long?

She was probably over at Tim’s office, or Jason’s apartment doing whatever. Thinking about it won't do him any good. Doesn’t mean he subconsciously won’t.

It was apparent, and out into full consciousness, when he pulled out his phone and saw her name in five missed calls, with voice messages she’s left behind. A whole lot of minutes of them, too, it seems. She’d called while he was on the plane.

He could listen to them. Hear her voice one last time. Let his mind trail away. God, he was pathetic.

Dick put it up to his ear, his other hand stuffed to his pockets as he went out to the tower’s highest balcony so at least the air wasn’t so stuffy and he wouldn’t choke so much.

He wasn’t even nervous when he heard her speak. “Hey, Dick.”

A plane. A helicopter. Some folks over at the apartment building nearby partying it out. At least he’d have something to look at. He was exhausted, too. It was eight am over at Gotham. Shouldn’t have taken the overnight flight.

“You weren’t at the manor. I tried calling there first. I wanted to see you. Call me when you get this?”

He might. After he listens to the four other messages she’d left behind.

“Hey. I know it’s only been an hour. But please call me.”

Another one.

“Dick, where are you? I hope you didn’t change your phone. or I’ll look stupid leaving all these messages behind, which I’m not about to stop doing. Call me. Please. No one knows where you are but no one’s panicking either. It’s worrying me.”

Next one. From another hour after. He’d been gone a little over ten hours since he left. If Bruce didn’t have a tracker on him, they’d have called the police by now. But he highly doubted Bruce would take the time to announce his little trip to the West Coast to everyone in the house.

“Dick, if this is you ignoring me, you’re doing a hell of a good job at it. Did I do something?”

He heard her huff over the phone. No one else seemed to be around her.

“Please, I just wanna talk. Call me.”

The last one. Sent just four hours ago, which meant she’d been awake at four in the morning.

And, on top of that, the last one was five whole minutes long.

A call to tell her she was dating Tim again? Explaining how there are no hard feelings? Catch a movie sometime? An ass of him to think she’d be that cruel, but he was jetlagged and exhausted and the smell of dog shit still hadn’t left, which could be explained because that mutt had made a home just a few feet away from where he stood.

Dick played the message despite all that. Even if she called to tell him she’s getting married. He’d answer it.

“Dick…”

He could hear the rain, sheets shuffling under her feet.

“I’m sorry…” she said. “I… I probably took too long… I guess, if you’re ignoring me, you still deserve to know. I hope you get this message. I’ll tell you now, I guess. So you won't have to respond if you don’t want to.”

Tears. He could hear her wipe them off her skin.

“I kept you waiting for… I wanna say months but it’s a lot longer than that. Years… God, and I didn’t even see it… I took too long trying to figure this all out for myself, and you just kept waiting for me. No one should be worth waiting for that long.”

He was laughing as if it were one of her god-awful jokes. Funnily enough, it was worth it. Even when it sent him nowhere in the end. All that waiting was worth it. Somehow.

“Which is why I don’t blame you. Because you shouldn’t have taken this long. I thought even if I took another few weeks before I’d have enough courage to finally ask you to be mine, you’d still be there waiting for me. Selfish as it is, but I guess that’s your fault, too. Spoiling me and whatnot. Now my expectations for men are out of hand. Sorry.”

She even fucking laughed all the while he could hear her biting back her sobs. If he were there, he’d hold her by the shoulders and squeeze the fucking sense back into her and tell her yes, I did wait for you, and I’d wait for you for a hundred more years if I had to but I know you love someone else and-

Wait.

Wait.

Wait.

Backtrack.

What the hell did she just say!?

“I mean, I’m…” she continued, completely ignoring his panic. Was there a rewind on this thing??? “The past two days all I did was read your letter. Over and over again, trying to find something I could have missed. I memorized it by now. I’m a wreck. I’m sorry. I know it’s all so complicated, but I can't stop thinking that if the timing had just been good to us the past few years, all this would have been so different.”

Shit, shit, shit, shit, SHIT, is she actually saying she-

“I’m so sorry, Dick…” she sighed. “I kept you waiting. But even if… even if you’re not anymore, I already made up my mind. I’ll be here. It’s my turn to wait for you. As long as it takes. I love yo-“

Something hit the back of his knees.

Which, unfortunately, with him not in some defensive stance, caught him in a rather vulnerable position.

And with that, Dick tumbled off his feet, almost fell off the railing, and failed to catch his phone from slipping right off his hands.

“NO!”

“DOWN BOY-SQUAWK!” Gar the parrot cried and followed the obnoxiously unruly dog running around the terrace. “SORRY, DICK!”

The dog kept running around and almost crashed to his feet twice with it being too fast even for Gar's supposedly swift wings, and if he wasn’t so frozen and horrified, watching his phone descend from almost a hundred stories above ground, he would have grabbed that mutt by the neck.

“GAR, I SWEAR TO GOD-“

“I’m sorry!” He turned back into a human and caught the dog. “It was him!”

“My fucking phone just fell over the railing!”

“Want me to go get it-“

A car alarm. He could hear it even from above. Or Gar did. Because he went to look over and caught sight of his phone breaking a car’s windshield below. He scratched the back of his neck. “Sorry.”

“I have to…” Dick pulled on his scalp. “I have to go call her.”

“Call who?!”

“Give me your phone!”

“I don’t have a phone!”

“Give me Raven’s phone!”

“She talks to people with her mind,” Gar twirled his finger against his temple. “She doesn’t need a phone!”

“Just get- UGH!”

He stormed back into the building. “Where the hell is everyone else!?”

“They’re all out of town!”

“So it’s just you and Raven in here?! Without adult supervision!?”

“Why do you think we got a dog into the building?!”

Said dog stuck his tongue out at him like it was just so awfully adorable.

“Ok, ok, ok, ok, ok.” He can do this. He can calm down. “I have to go back. Or call her at least.”

“You’re going back to Gotham now?!”

She said she’ll wait. But to hell with keeping her waiting. “Yes. I do. I’m going back now. As soon as I can call her and tell her I’m on my way-“

“I wouldn’t do that.”

Raven didn’t even look up from her book, legs up on the couch as seemingly relaxed as if the whole wreck of a home they lived in wasn’t a mess at all.

“Next flight to Gotham’s in an hour.” She levitated an apple to her mouth and took a bite. “And the one after that’s in two days.”

“Two days!?”

“Airline shutdown. Some strike is happening,” she pointed at the TV playing the news. “I’d hurry if I were you.”

“God fucking dammit-“

“Good luck.” Raven took another bite.

Of course. Of course, this would fucking happen.

But, fuck, he didn’t know if he should just leap out the window to keep up now that everything he’s ever wished for had finally come to be. Because, to his own beliefs up in the clouds, he could probably fly with just the flap of his measly arms.

Y/N chose him.

He left for the elevator, just before Gar stopped him for leaving his wallet, then he was sprinting his way back to the airport.

.

You:

“I already made up my mind,” you said to your phone as if there were anyone else on the other line. As if he was there, listening to you. And that in a few seconds, he’d respond.

“I’ll be here. It’s my turn to wait for you. As long as it takes. I love you, Dick.”

Quite haunting how easy it was for those words to just roll off your lips, because as much as you thought all this to be so complicated and difficult, it was the easiest thing you’ve ever had to say.

At four am, alone in your studio with all your lights off and your sheets in an unkempt mess. You stuck your knees so close to your chest, trying to conceal at least some kind of warmth against you. But even with it so easy, it didn’t mean it wasn’t hurting.

“I can't,” you stuck your palm to your forehead. “I know things are so hard between us… and this past year is just…”

You breathed, longer than you’d hoped, just to get enough air into your lungs just so you wouldn’t collapse.

“God, I don’t even know what to tell you anymore. It all just… It feels like it’s too late. Everything went so wrong between us and I can't stop but think maybe it’s the world saying we’re just not meant to be,” you swallowed. “And the scary thing is… I don’t even care.”

The blue rose you painted, staring back at you once so bright, but as the passing days of you still wondering if were brave enough to do this at all, it had dried up and was now blank, patronizing even, that maybe it just wasn’t right, even when you wanted it to be.

“I don’t care if it’s so complicated, I want you…”

On the bed, just by your feet, you locked your eyes onto Dick’s beautiful handwriting, some that had been smudged with the sweat from your hands with the paper now crumpled up after all those months of reading and rereading.

You closed your eyes.

“You sent me an awfully painful, heart-breaking letter,” you said. “This is my awfully painful, heart-breaking reply.”

.

‘I usually just say all this in my head. That’s when I get poetic. Sometimes I write it down. Most of the time, I try to paint them. I think of galaxies and meadows and skies and flowers and all that, metaphors as they are, but I’ll say everything I’ve got. Right now. Because you deserve to know that all those years of you thinking nothing could ever go how you wanted, that it could end being just that.

.

Dick:

“Hey.”

Hands on the counter, the attendant looked startled at the least.

“I need a ticket for the next flight to Gotham.”

“I’m sorry, sir,” she said, after taking a while to look at Dick’s handsome yet frantically uneasy face. “You just missed it-“

“I know, I know, I missed the last one.” The one that left just five minutes ago because of fucking California traffic. “But I need to get on the next one. Please.”

“All flights from San Francisco after the next hour are canceled I’m afraid.”

“Any connecting flights? Anything that leaves before that?”

“Sir, I-” she stretched her fingers. “I’ll look for something.”

His fingers, tapping onto the counter until the tip of his nails started to hurt.

“The best option’s a connecting flight to Denver, then to New York.”

“New York!?”

“Then there’s the railway transits to Gotham. I can book you a ticket for that, too.”

From a seven-hour flight to a seventeen-hour trip with layovers and a crowded train.

But as soon as he heard best option he pulled out his wallet quicker than when they told him his rent was three months overdue and that if he weren’t to pay the doorman that very instant they’d evict him.

He rushed to the first plane, closed his eyes, and prayed she hadn’t said anything in her voice message too important for him to miss out on.

.

‘The universe, or whatever it is out there that has a say in all this, they didn’t make it easy for us at all. If they did, we would have met long before we went too far into this mess. We were friends, sure, and you have no idea how much I value our friendship.

But I guess not even that friendship’s strong enough for us to deny what’s really going on. And that’s why it’s all so hard. I can't even look at you without thinking about kissing you, or holding you, or touching you. I can't hold your hand without wanting to never pull away. I can't even be in the same room with you and not stare, even when you’re just reading a book or talking to someone else. You are… you’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen, and you’re just as beautiful within, which is why it was so easy to love you, and so hard to keep it in.’

.

You:

Morning. Eleven am at that. You slept before the sun was up, at least. But you were up all night.

Nothing. Not a call, not even a text from him.

Everything shattered, and you were still half asleep. The next thing you did, and the next thing to do, was wrap yourself up with the thickest layer of your blanket and hide in the dark, even with it such a lovely day.

Another message wouldn’t be such a good idea if he still hadn’t opened the last five, which seemed highly unlikely with him gone for almost a day now.

A day. It had been a day.

But nothing on GCPD’s notices reported a missing person’s file of an utterly gorgeous, half-Romani hunk of a man in any of their websites. You called the manor, again. Still, there was nothing.

Twelve at noon. All you had for lunch was a bagel from three nights ago. It stuffed you, at least.

You sat at your dining table and stared at your phone.

If there was a moment for so much love to come crashing at once, it would all have been too great for that to be possible.

But the moment you realized it was there at all,

A few weeks ago. Steph’s birthday.

A party at the manor. It wasn’t much. Just a little get together with everyone at the parlor.

Everyone was talking, laughing, and frankly you wished you’d joined them. It looked like fun.

But instead, you were looking out the window, at the gardens white with melted snow and winds strong enough to knock the leaves out the branches. But you couldn’t hear any of that, which made it peaceful. It was the trees that danced, birds instead of planes that hovered over the sky, not a star above but perhaps it was because it was so full of clouds. It looked cold. Cold always looked so beautiful when you were looking out from the warmth of the inside.

Dick walked up to your side, just a reasonable distance away so he wouldn’t touch your shoulder, but close enough that you’d smell the jasmine from his neck.

“You’re just gonna stand out here and watch the glass fog up?”

You remembered laughing, probably at something else he’d said after that.

“It’s pretty when you look hard enough.”

And all the while, he didn’t pull your arm and drag you over at the crowd. He didn’t tell you to join them, to loosen up and have fun or have a drink or in any way stop you from what you were doing.

He just stood there and joined you, instead. Ditched his family. Didn’t even speak much.

He stood there because he wanted to. Because you staring out the window was more interesting to him than a whole crowd of kids doing whatever.

When he balled up his fist, covered it with his sleeve, and wiped the window right in front of you to rid it from the fog so you could see the gardens clearer, you knew you loved him.

Such a small act that was, but it was the finality of everything else that built up to that moment.

Then, you remembered what you told him last night, in a voice message that lasted way too long and sounded far too painful.

.

‘I don’t regret what I had with Tim… but I do regret not saying anything the past four years when I had the chance. You were there. You were there and I could never have had it any other way. When we’re not trying so hard for everything to be alright, everything’s at its best. I’m not even your girlfriend, and already I think about every minute I spend with you and laugh before I’m off to bed. I think about your jokes way too long than they should ever last. And your smile, god your smile, saying that that it’s all I could ever think about wouldn’t do it any justice. You have drawn out the ugliest laugh out of me that never should have come out of any human in existence. And frankly, I’m glad you do. Because just when I thought I could never smile again, you made me the happiest I could ever be.’

.

Dick:

Of all days. Of all times.

His survival rate at that point, rushing through Denver Airport with just a fifteen-minute layover period, with his shoelaces undone, probably wasn’t one he should have relied on. He was starving, but he had the appetite of a mammal in hibernation with the horrible airplane food costing a hundred dollars and everything else taking too long to prepare.

With just thirty seconds to spare, he fell to his too-narrow coach seat, shuffled along so his large ass-damn this cursed asset-would fit through the aisle and breathed just as the air hissed into the cabin after they closed the service door.

Head against the back of the seat, eyes up the ceiling, at the smoke that blew in through that gap outside the overhead locker, he ignored his dried skin, his dry mouth, his feet that were close to standing on a thousand knife tips, his eyes so close to just shutting out, his wallet painfully thin with this whole trip costing the equivalent of a round trip to Shanghai, and his whole body about to collapse. He hasn’t slept in twenty-four hours. It didn’t look like he was ever going to sleep at all.

And he hasn’t even called. God, what was she doing at home? Is she okay? Is she eating okay? Is she worried about him, staring at her phone wondering what she did wrong when she was nothing less of a perfect creation of all the gods that existed, an angel the earth didn’t deserve?

He really, really had to call.

Someone just sat next to him. A child. And next to him was his mother, who just put down her phone from a call.

“Excuse me.” Dick put on his award-winning smile, pretended he wasn’t sweating his balls off or that he was in any way close to psychological death, and hoped he looked the part as well.

“Yes?”

“Is it okay if I, uh, borrow your phone? I have to make a call. It’s sort of an emergency.”

“The plane’s about to take off.”

“It won't take long. I promise.”

He probably didn’t look as charming as he’d hoped. His hair was a mess not even a bird would settle into. The woman looked at him quizzically, up and down, and shrugged. Like it was handed to him on a silver plater, she gave him her phone.

The aircraft was about to take off. He only had so long.

He called Y/N’s number that he didn’t even know he memorized and settled back. It started ringing.

“MOM!”

The kid beside him. He was tugging on his mother’s shirt.

“MOM, I’M BORED.”

“We’re in a plane,-“

“I’M BORED. I WANNA PLAY ROBLOX-“

“Not now, we’re in a plane. Sit down.”

“GIVE ME YOUR PHONE-“

“That man has my phone.”

Fuck.

Y/N, fucking pick up.

“HEY, GIVE ME MY MOM’S PHONE BACK-“

“Kid, I hear ya. But you have to give me this one-“

“GIVE ME THE PHONE-“

That kid, a chubby one not older than six, stood up from his chair and was wild enough to grab Dick’s hand away from holding the phone up his ear. If he weren’t so desperate, he would have let him have it.

But god almighty, he’s never been as desperate as a starving man in a desert.

“Kid. Just one minute.”

“NO, GIVE ME!”

The mother put on a sleeping mask and faced the other way.

“KID-“

“GIVE ME MY PHONE-“

Back and forth, both grabbing onto the phone and the kid having the strength he did not at all expect, they ended up wrestling it out in the cramped-up economy seats until the kid was screaming out his ears.

He’s never looked so ridiculous but jokes on everyone else if they thought he could care less.

“Excuse me.”

An attendant, bags under her eyes and giving both of them, not just the kid, a dirty look.

“I’m sorry, sir, but the other passengers have complained about the noise. I’m gonna have to ask you to take your seat.”

“NO!” the kid screamed.

“DID YOU JUST BITE ME!?” Dick cried out.

“GIVE ME THE PHONE!”

“I NEED TO CALL SOMEONE!”

Dick grabbed the phone off his hands, palm to the kid’s face to stop him from reaching out to his outstretched arm. “Don’t you have some kind of coloring book you can give him?”

The attendant smiled, albeit forcefully, and walked back over to the back of the cabin. The kid did not stop trying to grab it off Dick’s arm.

She gave the kid a bag that probably had books and crayons and whatever stuffed inside. It looked so old. It had to have been in storage for the past ten years.

But as if some miracle heard him, the kid shut up, took the bag, and settled on his seat. Then he was as quiet as a mouse.

Fucking finally.

He held the phone up his ear and closed his eyes, fingers easing the tension on the nerve on his forehead.

“And sir?”

The attendant smiled at him. It didn’t look so much of a smile as it was a death threat.

“I’m gonna have to ask you to turn off your mobile device.”

To say he wanted to squeeze the life out of everyone in the whole aircraft, including himself, wouldn’t cut it.

And he didn’t even have it in him to protest.

“Hello?”

Her voice. At the other end of the line. That word was all there is to it, the only thing he heard.

Dick sighed, closed his eyes, counted to three, then ended the call after just two seconds.

The next thing he heard, for the next three hours, would be the screams of the child at his side, kicking on his seat like a fucking soccer ball.

.

‘That call from a year ago. The one about Kori. Fuck, I don’t even know where to begin. I overreacted. By a mile. Did some stupid shit to make up for that guilt and masked it over as another heartbreak when really, it was me refusing to have to go through all that again. I had to see you with that woman when I was in love with you for three years. Of course, it hurt. But I shouldn’t have an excuse. It was so stupid. Just thinking about it makes me want to break. I’m so sorry about that, Dick. I know we’ve already been over that months ago, but I just want to clear everything while I still can. God, I don’t even know if you’d listen to all this. I’m rambling. I’m sorry. I put all the blame on you when I had my share of mistakes. A whole lot of them. I’m sorry. I love you. And I’m sorry.’

.

You:

Hung up after two seconds. All you heard on the other end of the line was breathing and huffing, and nothing else. Whoever it was, they’ve been calling the past two minutes, just as you stepped out of the shower. And you almost cracked a rib flying from your bathroom to your kitchen table with just a towel around you, hoping to see his name on the screen. But alas, your luck just wasn’t at its peak.

You put your phone down, still with nothing to do, nothing else you could think of doing, than to just wait on that seat, stare at your phone, and hope Dick hadn’t hurt himself going after some goon alone the night before. Still no missing persons report. Nothing from the rest of the team, either.

Maybe just once more. You could call him. It wouldn’t annoy him too much. It had been hours since the last one.

You called, put the phone up your ear.

No ringing. It went straight to voice mail.

You opened your mouth, thinking you had something to say.

But you didn’t have anything to say. Not anymore. Not after you poured your whole heart out on the last one and now your throat was as dry as your palms were sweating.

You put your phone down, facing away from you, then you sank to your arms, burying your crumbling face away even with no one to see you.

.

‘That’s why I hate myself for not caring if this was difficult. Because I know, somehow, that’s it’s all still gonna be worth it. With you. Just thinking about the things we’d do, you’ve been the light of my life, the one person I look for not just because I need it, but because being with you makes so much of my day, every day that I see you. I look for you in crowds. I turn to your face when I want to look at something pleasant. I stare at doors, constantly hoping you’d be the one to walk in. I seek out for your voice, call you even when I know it’s a bother, find the most ridiculous excuses and the most stupid questions just so I’d have a reason to stand close to you, to have you talking to me, wanting all that everyday. I’ve never met anyone like you, Dick. I’ll never get used to you, and there’s no way in hell that I’d ever get tired of you. And maybe that’s the price to pay with all this being so hard. As complicated as it is, the troubles aren’t half the worth of the happiness it comes with.’

.

Two flights, three within the past thirty hours, jet-lagged far beyond a night’s repair, and his stomach in so many knots that even the bag of peanuts from the plane was too much to digest. And it wasn’t from poisoning or hunger or whatever it was. Everything in a whirlwind, one he can't even track.

He got to New York before it was dark, and he wanted to kiss the floor.

But he wasn’t at Gotham yet. This trip wasn’t over.

And if it weren’t for the half a million people crowded over at the airport, he would have been in Gotham right at that second.

Past the crowd, fumbling and running for whatever life he had left that wasn’t a spirit descended into something infinitely better than this, he made it over to the other side of the terminal, with his pits sweating his shirt off and his legs made of cooked chicken drumsticks and dough.

He got to the railway station, over at the attendant behind the counter.

“Excuse me,” he panted, and just like the one at the San Francisco airport, it startled her. Except now, there was no using his charm or his looks when he looked like he crawled out of a swamp.

“To Gotham,” he said.

“Ticket?”

He reached for his wallet, hands shaking so horribly it was worrying if he hadn’t known it came with his mind being as much of a mess as a wrecked ship from the 1800s.

And all the more did they tremble, down to his sorry knees, when he opened every flap there was on his wallet to find every pocket empty.

No.

No. no. no. no. no.

He searched his pockets. His jacket. His pants. His fucking shoes. If he had a hat he’d probably look into that too.

Nothing. Not a stub. A tiny stub that would have easily been blown by so much as a gust from a fan, let alone running a marathon in three airports in a single day.

“I,” he swallowed. “I seemed to have lost my ticket.”

Yeah. He wasn’t getting out of this one. The attendant looked at him and snarled like the annoyance he was.

“All the trains are sold out. And I’m afraid you can't board the train without a ticket.”

“Ma’am, I really, really, have to get to Gotham-“

“I’m afraid you’re gonna have to step out of the line.”

Like every force in the universe was out to get him.

“Do you have a phone? A payphone at least? I really need to call someone-“

“Sir, please step out of the line.”

“Please, ma’am, there has to be some way you can squeeze me into one of those trains-“

The attendant waved at someone behind him.

Two security guards were at his side before he could even turn around.

“Alright, alright, I’m leaving,” he huffed. “You guys don’t happen to have a phone I could use?”

Both guards ignored him, set him aside against a pillar.

And, with the excruciating exhaustion finally crashing into this one blow to the face, he stuck his back against the column, head up to the ceiling, then fell on his ass.

God, what does he even say to her after this?

If he actually gets to talk to her, that is.

“Final call for boarding!”

That light. One, single light. Or two, if he focused his eyes. The headlights from outside the revolving doors, from a bus that just opened its doors. It was a light, because it had GOTHAM in bold letters pasted onto its windshield.

And a line of people stepping inside. Kids and adults, old people alike.

He sat up from the floor, hungry, tired, and in pain.

But this was all going to be worth it. Every minute of this.

He just knew, that one last push, after this tormenting, inferno of a day, would all come to an end he’d dreamed about since he first laid eyes on her that day at the Wayne Manor’s library.

Dick got in line outside the bus, told the conductor he’d pay when they get inside. And after he did, he had just a quarter in his wallet to spare. No one sat beside him. The others were at the back. The one across was fast asleep. He couldn’t call her.

He’ll just have to hope, that whatever worries she had waiting for him to come up, that she’d forgive him enough for all this to end the way he hoped it would.

Three hours on a bus.

Didn’t even sound like it was remotely a long time.

The moment he took his seat, the bus doors hissed closed, and the air so silent, so did everything else calm.

He’s waited so long.

But he just had to wait for another three hours. In a bus. Then he’ll see her.

He closed his eyes.

.

‘I don’t even know why I rambled so much about all this being so complicated.

Because even if I had to walk up to the sky, I know there’s a galaxy waiting for me at the end. You are worth it. You are worth everything. I’ve never been so obsessed with anyone my whole life. You are, with my whole heart, my greatest love. And you are so beautiful that I never want to look at anything else ever again. And I never thought I’d get know beauty the way I do when I talk to you. You are everything I could ever want. And so much more.

And that pain, that hurt we both had to go through after all those years. That pining and waiting, and the heartbreak just because I was too stupid to understand that it didn’t have to be so hard after all, it doesn’t even matter, when at the end, I get to be with you.

I’d go through all that again if it means I can be with you.

You are the man I’ve dreamt about since I could first dream, and I’m lucky enough to have you in my reality. It’s you I want, Dick.

So I’ll wait for you. As long as I have to.

I love you so much.

Please, for the love of God, call me.’

.

You:

That message.

The longer you stared at your phone, the more you wondered if it was the right thing to do at all.

It was four am. You were tired. And worried.

And it was four am now, a whole day after.

Not a single call.

You’ve done it this time. You tripped at the finish line.

You were selfish enough to keep that man waiting for so long hoping he’d keep going, just as he had been for years.

And now, this is what you get.

You have yourself alone, in your apartment, one you haven’t cleaned in a week, and your heart in the same shatters as it often had been.

Your phone rang. You weren’t so excited to pick it up. Rightfully so when you saw it was just Bruce.

“Hello?” you said, your weight against the table’s surface, also surprised that it hadn’t broken.

“Y/N,” Bruce said. “I heard you were looking for Dick.”

“Mhm?”

“Sorry I haven’t called. Anyways, the last location I can point him to was at the Titans Tower in San Francisco.”

Okay.

You’ve had your heart broken before.

But it wasn’t just that that had broken right then.

Everything else, every bone, every bit of flesh there was, it was this numbing buzz you couldn’t even fight.

“What?”

Just then, someone knocked on your door.

And it wasn’t just a knock. They were pounding against the wood.

The ringing in your ears hadn’t even subsided, and you were breathless, muscles stiff. You just let the pounding go on until you heard Bruce hang up on the other line.

Life didn’t even give you so much as a second to process all that, of what he could be doing there, who he was with.

Your walked to the door, and without looking into the eyehole, you unlatched the lock and opened it.

Some glitch there was if all this were nothing but a simulation.

But it was as if the last five minutes-no-the last two days hadn’t happened at all.

Dick never looked like such a mess.

But, nonetheless, the way you stared at him was as if he was as beautiful as he ever was.

Everything that had broken, the moment you looked into his eyes, had fallen right back into place, into an entity far stronger than any quake could knock it out of.

Dick shut the door behind him.

He grabbed your face.

Then he kissed you. Without words. Without letting so much as a speck of time, however it worked now that it’d stopped, pass and waste away.

.

Dick:

Whatever she told him in that message he never got to hear, everything she ever had to say, the instant he felt her kiss him back, it was like every word flew out of her lips. How she wanted him. How she chose him. How in love she was with the mess of a human being he could be. How all the trials they’d been forced to go through, all the misunderstandings and the fights and the long months of this troubling, awkward place they wanted nothing more than to climb out of. He got all that with the way her lips molded so wanting and harsh, pressed so hard against his dried, chapped pair that have never witnessed anything more beautiful and so awfully perfect.

No more time to be wasted.

Not another second.

He had her. He finally had her.

He got the girl.

Not a chance that he wasted so much as another second.

He pushed her against the wall and the gasp that came out of her wasn’t at all out of pain, but at the sheer desire that had sparked at such impact that only knocked her into the same place he’d long settled in. And he could just feel, how much she wanted so badly to speak, to tell him what was raging in her head that was as much of a mess as his. But they’ll talk. Eventually. After.

All he wanted, right then, was to have her. Love her. Love her. To send her off to some paradise that long surpassed oceans and mirages and heavens that stood on clouds, to culminate that seemingly endless torture into a reward so great, that to say it would have been worth it would be so much an understatement. To play every instrument there was and let the song resonate into her body, and make it last for the rest of his life for so long as he could touch her. All that, he was going to give her tonight. Tonight. Right then and there.

Grabbing her legs up to his hips, her hands pinned to the wall above her head, it was too much of a flash for him to rush into this beautiful thing that shouldn’t be rushed at all. But he couldn’t slow down if it meant that he lives. Even if he died right after, he just couldn’t hold back.

He was pushing himself into her and the sounds that he earned out his lips were more than any songbird could cry out. After just having her against that wall, he finally got the sense to take it to the bed. It was dark. Not a light was on. And it was raining outside the one window she had near the bed and just the streetlight outside was enough to make him see her face. Dick placed her on top of his lap, on which she enjoyed herself to her own pace. Her hips were like waves, the ocean that rocked about, and the stain on his pants that she’d left behind was just as wet as so.

At that moment even she didn’t want to wait and talk any longer.

He took off her clothes, lied back.

Then he hoisted her up so the sweetest part of her body was just hovering over his mouth, her strong, beautiful legs, one of skin and the other of metal, on either sides of his head.

.

You:

You were made of gemstones. You were shimmering.

Of diamonds and rubies and emeralds, of the most precious rocks that could be found on every soil on earth.

Everything. That pain. That darkness. All the troubles and hardships, the disputes and every tear you’ve ever had to shed. Gone. Gone when he drew out this wonderful melody of sensations from his sweet, sweet tongue quivering you to every core. You were rocking, shaking, trembling, barely keeping yourself up. Not long after you screamed, and like the skies heard you it screamed back with a thunderous roar.

Then Dick shed his own clothes and moved inside you, rolling your hips with your two bodies now this one, beautiful entity, like you were holding his hand, just as you did right then, as you both ran through the darkness of a cave that has long haunted you, with creatures and bats and ghosts flying about, just to reach the end that was a light so close and so bright, you chased yourselves, chased that very light.

And once you reached it, that blinding, flashing white light that shone with this painful, glorious sting to every bit of your flesh, to say you found that end would be wrong. It wasn’t an end. It was this continuous, tantalizing aroma that would last a lifetime. It was beauty. You felt beauty. And it was in ripples you couldn’t see. A blur you couldn’t comprehend.

You had so much to tell him and ask him about.

But just as that wonderful night showed you, you had the rest of your life to do just that.

.

Epilogue

Dick:

Life could only ever be so cruel.

But life gives its niceties. Sometimes, to the people so used to it that they take it for granted.

But it’s even more so of a nicety when it’s the people who’ve long deserved it.

Not to say he deserved the world, but it was just that he’d gotten. From a world once so cruel, that never seemed to have granted them the time enough to be together, it’d never built up into anything more perfect.

Watching her from his car’s driver seat, from where he had a perfect view of her looking at the wondrous scenes flash by outside the window. It was even more beautiful, more than ever before, now that he could take just a second off his time from the steering wheel just to kiss her.

Just a little over six months together. Never has there been anything so rewarding in his life. A rainbow, ten of them at least, that filled what was once this depressingly grey sky. He always knew it’d be worth the world. But even he surprised himself.

When they parked the car, got out into this wide, orange field, a farmland just outside of Jersey with a valley at the farthest end, the only thing that battled the brightness of her smile was the sun itself.

“It’s beautiful, Dick.”

Her voice, even more so.

He set up her canvas, all her paint, and her brushes. They found a spot on the grass that was clean enough for them both to sit on. She didn’t use her easel. Instead, they both laid on this plaid red and white sheet over the grassy soil, her using her own knees to hold it up. And Dick sat beside her, watching her as the hours ticked. Without looking away, no longer ashamed when she’d catch him.

Just before the last of the sun had set, he pulled out from his pocket a ring, one with a diamond a shape of a white rose on top.

He got it a week after they got together.

Her face, her lips wide open as she realized what came in front of her, then he asked her to be his. Forever.

She said yes, just as the sun fell.

-----

MASTERLIST | 3 BIRDS 1 STONE MASTERLIST | RED | YELLOW

-----

MAIN TAGLIST:

@idkmanicantenglish, @wunderstell, @birdy-bat-writes, @multifandomgirl-us, @icequeen208, @offendedfishnoises, @arkhamtoddler, @elsenthal, @lucy-roo,  @loxbbg, @reclusive-chicken-nugget, @l-inkage, @http-cherries, @river9noble, @zphilophobiaz, @annoylinglyaries, @knightfall05x, @hyp-oh-critical, @satan-s-ass, @1-800-starmora, @flowersgirl02, @nahcho, @thatonecroc​, @trixie-bb, @daddyissuesmademe, jasonsbitch, @shadowsndaisies @jaybirdbooty @writing2sirvive

SERIES TAGLIST:

@spaceservicestation, @thedeadlythoughts, @vanessafabricius, @pinkforest05

#dick grayson #dick grayson x reader #tim drake #jason todd #tim drake x reader #jason todd x reader #dick grayson smut #batboys #batfam #batfamily #3 birds 1 stone #3 birds 1 stone series #batarella #batarella series

[miraculouscontent]

(non-Miraculous asks)

Anonymous said:

Ok this may just be me but I hate deconstructions. I feel like they are always mean spirited and try to be dark and edgy and thinks that every single person is an asshole because that’s “realistic” when no it’s not. This maybe because I like superhero stories and love it when the heroes overcome their struggles.

I can agree for the most part. Whenever I hear “okay but what if it was dArK--” I’m just okay, gonna stop you right there.

Anonymous said:

I swear, nothing bothers me more than people who want Miraculous Ladybug to literally just be Yandere Simulator(with Marinette as Ayano, Alya as Info-chan, Adrien as Taro, Chloe as Osana, Lila as Kizana, Kagami as Megami, and Luka as Budo). It just grinds my gears, especially because they're, once again, framing Marinette as a stalker, which just makes her look bad, AND pits all the girls against each other for Mr. Generic Harem Protagonist, once a-fucking-gain. Just go play the actual game, ok?

All I'm hearing is that now I have to ship Ayano and Budo and write a fic where the ghost girl uses fancy fantasy magic to merge her soul with Ayano and lets her actually have emotions, healing her from being a yandere while the ghost girl (in a way) gets to live a life she was cut short of, also allowing Ayano to be happy and go onto be friends with all the rivals.

Extremely convoluted but that’s the only way we get happy endings in this house.

Anonymous said:

I remember how, when writing Sailor Moon, Naoko Takeuchi refused to bow to older male writers wanted, say, for the girls to be stereotypical manga characters, with one being overweight, one being a stereotypical nerd, etc. But Naoko wanted each of the girls to be beautiful and feminine. While I don't like that they all share a body type, I admire how she didn't listen to grown men when writing for and about young girls. And I can't help but think about how Madoka is the antithesis of all that.

I can appreciate writers who put their foot down to stick to their values. There are limits of course, but yeah, a women writing women probably shouldn’t be listening to a man’s input. I’m sure good advice exists buuut...

Anonymous said:

What is your ranking of the seasons of the year from most to least favorite and why?

Summer - I work best in the warmth

Spring - Always brings images of flowers blooming to mind

Autumn - Things are getting cold and I don’t like it

Winter - It can go choke for all I care

Anonymous asked:

Someone on TV Tropes actually said that the name Feminist Fantasy should be changed because "feminism excludes men the same way meninism excludes women" and actually had the nerve to link that to the "Not So Different" trope, as if women haven't been excluded throughout the history of almost every human society. Fortunately, someone responded to them in a way that technically amounted to "do your damn research" but I'm still facepalming so hard at TV Tropes' "what about the men" rhetoric.

I feel like I lost braincells reading this.

Anonymous asked:

I feel like in fiction written by men there are only three flaws that female protagonists are allowed to have: clumsy, boy-crazy, or ashamed of their flat chests. I hate it.

Don’t forget, “having to listen to the men for how they’re supposed to feel.”

Anonymous asked:

Jatp. Nominated. For. Seven. Emmys. SEVEN!!!! Miraculous could NEVER. Literally.

omg!! Congrats to Julie and the Phantoms!

Anonymous asked:

WHAT ARE YOUR FLASHBACKS TO EVER AFTER HIGH?? I GOTTA KNOW? OMG?

Oh, I’ve seen basically the whole series, though the one I remember most is definitely Epic Winter. It was my favorite one though Beauty and the Beast is my favorite Disney movie so I’m biased.

I also like a lot of the “twists” and just--crazy concepts they rolled with, like with Red Riding Hood’s story and how Apple White gets woken up from her slumber.

Anonymous asked:

You're gonna be happy to hear this...I just started watching Cardcaptor Sakura today, and holy shit not only do I love it, but I also love how freaking META it is! I know you said you're not all that knowledgeable about Magical Girl, but this show is AWARE that it's a Magical Girl show! From Tomoyo(the main reason this show is so meta, tbh) realizing Sakura is a Magical Girl and asking if she has a transformation pose, to designing outfits for her(more on that later) to videotaping her(aka literally making a Magical Girl anime out of her Magical Girl friend), it just has fun with itself and plays with Magical Girl tropes without making a mockery of them like all those "dark" male-aimed ones do(lookin' at you, Madoka Magica and Yuki Yuna!).

And not only is it hilarious and adorable(especially with Sakura's crush on Yukito, Tomoyo's crush on Sakura, and Touya picking on Sakura, but playfully), but I love how it's riddled with girl power. While watching some of the first episodes I was looking forward to seeing Syaoran(partly because I love male Tsunderes and partly because I can't pronounce his name), and was surprised that he wasn't in the first few episodes, but more importantly I was so happy to see a show that treats its female characters with respect and shows women unironically receiving support from other women and being shown possessing power and authority.

I love Sakura and Tomoyo's friendship even if I hate the trope of "Lesbian Never Gets The Girl"(not that I think she's entitled to Sakura's affections or anything, but still.) and watching her support Sakura in her magic endeavors without being jealous or vindictive, I love that they're allowed to be independent and smart but that the show doesn't forget that they're kids, instead of making them like Manon and Chris, and I love that the show passes the Bechdel test in pretty much the first or second episode, and that pretty much every important and unimportant character we meet that's not Sakura's family members, Kero, or Yukito(plus maaaayyybe the Shadow Clow Card) are female.

Even little things, like all FOUR of Tomoyo's bodyguards in the second episode being female without there being a "reason" or the show making a big deal of it(either in a "yay girl power!" way or a "what but women can't x" way or an objectifying way) fills me with insurmountable joy. Also, I love that the show follows the Magical Girl trend of pretty much admitting that femininity is power, since frilly dresses are stated to be the most "fitting" thing for a Cardcaptor to wear, as without it, they might not be mentally up to the task, and this is an unironic truth rather than a joke(although Sakura is shown to be embarrassed, but it's much more likely that she's simply not used to that kind of gear due to not being rich as Tomoyo is.) or a gag.

I just thought I should tell you this because I know you like Cardcaptor Sakura, and with the crappy episodes that just came out of this show, I think you deserve to read an ask that's about a GENUINE girl power Magical Girl show, instead of yet more Miraculous Ladybug salt or Madoka Magica hate(not that there's anything wrong with either of those two, but it just gets grating after a while.). Overall, I'm looking forward to watching this show, since I've been looking for a Magical Girl show to watch nowadays(I've been meaning to watch Star Twinkle Precure but I can't find the third episode and all of Cardcaptor Sakura is on YouTube now, so.). So excited!

Hey, I’m glad that you’re having fun with it!

Though, just a warning, you might wanna steer clear of the Clear Card arc. It’s a sequel to the original series made waaaay after the original (think the equivalent of Yashahime for Inuyasha, though continuing with the original characters) but omg I hated it.

Anonymous asked:

With the crappy Season 4 episodes that just came out I'm glad I got into Cardcaptor Sakura when I did. Who needs "Marinette needs to make a mistake every episode and learn something from it" when you can have genuine girl power and sweetness incarnate?

Alya could never compete with Tomoyo, I’m just sayin’.

Anonymous asked:

Your comment about white men feeling "disenfranchised" because more shows are about black people and/or women(I say and/or because the two aren't mutually exclusive.), as if there aren't a million other things they could be watching instead is so true! It reminds me of how I was talking to someone recently about the new generation of MLP, in which I stated that we didn't need a male mane pony(spoiler alert: they have one, sadly.), and he claimed that it would be beneficial since many shows aimed at boys at least try to include at least one main girl, and that it would be good for G5 of MLP to have at least one strong male lead so that boys could have a role model and know that the show isn't "girly".

Okay, so far, so good, but this I could chalk up to just unconscious internalized misogyny, especially since he didn't say it in any sort of "way". So I respectfully told him that the scale regarding representation is already not equal and that boys can look up to girls and that a show being girly is not a bad thing and all that stuff that you already know about. Then he responded claiming some stuff about how he keeps trying to pitch stories about straight white male characters and how nobody is accepting his offers and so this means that straight white men are underrepresented compared to everyone else. He even explicitly said, and I quote "White people are actually critically underrepresented in media right now. Especially boys."; I swear to the Goddess above.

At this point I was officially upset as a black girl, to hear this white(and presumably adult) man telling me that he was underrepresented in media compared to me, even saying that the media execs are practicing "quotas and tokenization"(and yes, he repeatedly used those terms for any instance of representation, even when I asked him politely to stop.) by replacing women with men or white people with pocs and are making white men look like incompetent doofuses.

He also kept saying stuff about how shows are always shoehorning people of color in where they don't belong by casting them in settings such as Shakespeare and medieval times when "realistically" there were no people of color during those time periods(which is obviously not true, it's just not what the history books show us.), and made a really insensitive comment about how black children in the USA today don't know the significance of having the first black president because the media supposedly already shows them black people in various professions(despite also claiming he couldn't speak to the "black experience" and yet here he is whitesplaining that shit.).

It got to the point where he was seriously and unironically using the word "blackwashing". When I pointed out to him that white men aren't underrepresented and that it's just his self-centered ego telling him that they are, that the word "blackwashing" isn't a thing, and that mis/underrepresentation in media DOES affect black kids negatively(even citing myself as an example) he went on to claim that I was being tone-deaf and that "blackwashing" is just as bad as whitewashing, and that making Ariel black is just as bad as making Jasmine white.

At this point I had to bang my head on the table and explain to him the difference; his ass still wouldn't get it. Eventually he started saying some really skeevy and hypocritical shite that white men say all the time when whining about how "oppressed and underrepresented" they are: that black people and/or women

(it looks like there might be an ask missing here, in which case, sorry if Tubmlr ate it!)

avor of supporting the commonly believed LIE that "women and/or minority groups don't have as much history worth learning about, so there's no point in focusing on them." He also kept using patronizing, condescending, mansplaining language such as "let me explain it to you" or "you still don't get it do you?", and when he said women had nothing to contribute to society because "oppression" he even had the nerve to tack on "welcome to the unequal society" as if I hadn't been lecturing him about just that.

Because obviously only white men did anything worthwhile or important in history. At this point, I had to block him. I couldn't take it anymore and this was on an MLP site of all places(although I'm probably just as guilty of that part, but at least I wasn't an ass!). I just can't stand white men who "want to be oppressed so bad" but still want to claim that their achievements are more important and deserve to be more prominent. Honestly, so many white men are so fragile the second they're not in the spotlight. I can't help but think that despite all the privilege afforded to their class being a white man sounds like the worst thing ever.

“he claimed that it would be beneficial since many shows aimed at boys at least try to include at least one main girl, and that it would be good for G5 of MLP to have at least one strong male lead so that boys could have a role model and know that the show isn't "girly". “

I might be looking too deep into that but I don’t like the idea of, “Well WE squeezed in a girl and therefore YOUR SHOWS--” like it’s some sort of matter of “fairness” or that boys’ shows aren’t putting in girls out of a genuine like for them but because they “need” one or it’s some sort of obligation.

Also, we need to stop this idea that boys can’t look up to female characters and vice versa for girls. You already said it but yeah.

And yeah, I hear "quotas and tokenization" and I officially tune out of whatever the person is saying, lol. White men are critically underrepresented???? Newsflash, maybe it’s just because others are being represented more??

Just the whole thing about whites being “underrepresented” boggles my mind. White people don’t have some sort of special ability or skill that other races can’t do themselves unless you count the “superpower” of white privilege.

Like, oh my god, all that “whitesplaining” and having to read the word “blackwashing” was physically painful. I don’t know whether to laugh or cry. I don’t know how they got hold of the technology to communicate with you from whatever time period their from, presumably the Stone Age.

Don’t even blame you for blocking them. There’s just a level of absolute... blindness? Arrogance??? That comes with the territory with them sometimes, I swear. You had every right to be upset; other races come to ask for equality and fair representation and suddenly you have these white men (not all obviously but damn) coming by and crying that they’re being oPpReSsEd. U_U

Like, honestly, my father in particular is absolutely that kind of person so I’ve heard that kind of stuff before. it’s all gross.

On a slightly unrelated note (trying to end this with some positivity), I hadn’t even heard about a fifth generation of MLP until I read this, and just wanted to let you know that I really hope you have a really good time with it! Hopefully the male character isn’t... well, you know.

#other: ask and answer #other: non ml talk

[dehydratedpercy]

Prompt: " Please.....dont make me hurt you"

For dark Frank maybe👀 but you Can also choose someone else

A Way To Hurt (2.5k)

Read on Ao3 | Based on this post

Summary: Hazel still has Frank's firewood, though they're enemies now. Even though she knows she could kill him, she can't bring herself to betray his trust-- that is, until he shows up one night intent on getting his lifeline back, no matter the cost.

TW: Home invasion, dark themes

Hazel had just finished getting ready for bed when she heard the noise. It came from the other room, so she picked up her spatha, hoping beyond hope that it was just the old house settling.

Sometimes, it was just the old house settling. She kept her spatha by her side at all times though, because she knew one day, it wouldn’t just be the house. And she refused to be unarmed when that day finally came.

Now, she had her sword, which gave her comfort even if she wasn’t wearing armor. Her sweats were oversized, her mouth still tasting like toothpaste. Her eyes had been drooping, almost falling asleep standing up.

She wasn’t falling asleep now.

She stepped into the bedroom, pausing in the doorway. For a moment, there was nothing. Then Frank materialized, landing with barely a step. It was almost as if he'd taken off Annabeth's invisibility cap, but Hazel knew the truth; that he'd simply been in the form of a bug, and had shifted back to his human form. It was a trick he’d started learning when he was still at camp, but clearly he’d perfected it since then.

Hazel let her spatha hang by her side, not raising it quite yet. Frank wouldn’t have shown himself if he was just going to attack her, which meant he must’ve wanted to talk.

This’ll be good, she thought, crossing her arms.

“Hazel,” Frank said, sounding on edge. He looked worse than the last time she saw him, like he hadn’t been sleeping. Despite that, his posture was straight, like he hadn’t been able to forget his Roman training, his hands in his pockets casually, like he hadn’t just broken in. “You look-- good. You look good.”

It came out as a stumbled complement, but it hit Hazel like an insult. They’d broken up directly before he’d left camp, but before that they’d been dating for nearly three years. He’d never gotten less awkward. At one point, it had been endearing-- but too much had changed for it to feel like anything but an insult now. Especially since she knew why he was here.

“That attack on Camp Half-Blood. That was you, wasn’t it?”

Frank shrugged non-committally. “I wasn’t there, if that’s what you’re asking.”

“You just helped organize it.”

“Sounds like something I’d do, doesn’t it?” He said, neither agreeing or disagreeing. “Hazel--”

“And the attack on the questers? The bear--”

He huffed. “Might have just been a freak accident. Wild animals attack sometimes, Hazel.”

“Stop saying my name,” she snapped. “It’s not yours to say anymore. And that warship that was destroyed? The defenses that were destroyed? The supplies that were booby-trapped?”

Frank took a step forward, eyes darkening. He didn’t like being pushed, but Hazel didn’t care. He deserved to feel the impact of the crimes he committed-- crimes against demigods, crimes against his family. Hazel wasn’t going to let him get away so easily.

They’d initially broken up when Frank started getting too radical, claiming that they were doing something wrong by taking in and training new demigods. He said they’d be better off left alone, where they wouldn’t be able to get too powerful, and thus wouldn’t attract as many monsters. Some would die, sure-- but he thought back to his mortal days with a fondness he didn’t hold for either camp. He thought it would’ve been better not to know.

He was wrong. But that didn’t stop him. He left camp, found beings willing to support his cause, and started a gradual campaign to dissolve both camps-- make them so unsafe demigods started fleeing, trying their luck in the mortal world.

Hazel and her friends had volunteered to be the ones to take him in-- or, if that didn’t work, bring him down. This house had been their mission headquarters. It was supposed to be secure. Then again, nothing seemed to be secure these days: there was nowhere Frank had been unable to go. He could turn into a bug and fly under doors, turn into a bear and attack innocents, turn into an elephant and take down buildings. His shifting was instantaneous, making him impossible to fight: he changed form before you could land a swing.

“You act like I’m a bad guy,” Frank said, voice low and dangerous. “Like I’m not doing all of this to help people. The generation after us will thank me when they are able to live among mortals again--”

“The ones who don’t die, maybe!” Hazel said, voice raising. “And fuck the next generation, what about the ones who are alive now? The demigods who have already started exploring their powers, who can’t stay in the mortal world without detection. What about them?”

“They’re a lost cause,” Frank said, sounding deeply saddened by this. “And I am too. I know my scent is as powerful as yours or Jason’s; this fucking curse has seen to that.”

“A blessing,” Hazel corrected, feeling the familiarity of their old argument like a frequently dislocated joint. “Shapeshifting is a blessing, a gift more demigods would die for--”

“I’m barely even human anymore!” Frank yelled. Hazel stepped back in horror as he shifted rapidly, going from human to bear to hawk to wolf to human again. It happened so quickly it just looked like a flicker, and then he was human again, pinching the bridge of his nose and taking a deep breath. “Hazel, I wouldn’t wish this curse on anyone. And even if I was just a normal demigod, going to camp was the biggest mistake of my life. If I had never done that, my scent would have never gotten this strong. My family mansion would still be around, my grandmother would still be--” he swallowed with difficulty. “My grandmother would still be alive. Camp Jupiter took everything from me. And I can’t get it back, but maybe-- I could make it better for future demigods. That’s all I can hope for.”

“At the expense of demigods now,” Hazel whispered. “Frank, without the camps… so many people will die. Demigods need a safe place to train.”

Frank’s expression closed off, and Hazel knew he was done arguing with her. Early on, he’d hoped to get her to see his side, but he’d quickly seen that that would never happen.

“Fine,” he said, voice like a knife. “Then just give me what I came here for, and I’ll be on my way.”

Hazel felt her face heat up. Her hand twitched, wanting to move to touch the side of her thigh where his piece of firewood sat. All this time, and he’d never gotten it back. At first, Hazel thought it was a hopeful sign, since it meant he must still trust it in her care, but as his actions grew more and more violent, she knew it was only a matter of time.

She had used to keep it in a jacket pocket, but she wasn’t so naive anymore. Currently, the wood was duct-taped to the side of her thigh, so it never left her side. No one knew; her friends didn’t even know she had it. She’d considered telling them, but she just couldn’t betray Frank’s trust like that. She’d considered burning it-- especially after hearing about the deaths-- but in the end, she couldn’t bring herself to do it. How could she betray someone who had trusted her with everything? How could she hurt anyone like that?

Hazel had known, in her heart, that one day he’d show up, looking for the piece of timber. She had hoped it wouldn’t happen, but she’d known. She wasn’t as naive as people liked to think.

“I’m not giving you anything,” she said, raising her spatha. “For all you know, I don’t even have it anymore. I may have put it in a safe across the country, and you’ll never find it.”

“Yeah, right,” he scoffed. “Come on Hazel. Don’t make me ask again.”

“I told you not to say my name.”

“Hazel,” Frank snapped. “You’re acting like a child. I’m trying to make the world a better place, and it’s bad enough you of all people are trying to stop me. But that timber doesn’t belong to you. Give it here.”

“Do you remember who my father is?” Hazel challenged, baring her teeth. “I could kill you with the snap of my fingers. I’d be more afraid, if I were you.”

"You have my firewood, you could've killed me long ago," Frank argued. "You haven't. You're not going to try now."

Hazel felt her eyes blaze with determination. "You don't know that."

He started moving forward, and Hazel was reminded briefly how much bigger than her he was. "I do. Because I know you, and I know you'd never do anything to hurt a friend."

"Unlike some people," Hazel snarled.

Frank ignored the jab, still moving forward. “Hazel, I’m begging you, just hand it over. I don’t… I don’t want to hurt you.”

He got too close, and Hazel slashed with her sword. In an instant, he was gone, and then he was behind her, grabbing her around the waist. She screamed as he grabbed her hoodie pocket, feeling for the timber. She tried to elbow him in the face but he was gone again, and then she tripped over something and was on the ground. She swiped at him again but he was relentless, disappearing and reappearing again, attacking her like a wolf tearing at scaps. She couldn’t strike her, no matter how hard she tried.

Suddenly, she felt his hand on her thigh, and in a panic she kicked him away. He responded slower this time, barely turning into a bird in time to stop himself from slamming full force into the opposite wall. He dropped back to human form, panting, but his gaze was vicious. He’d found what he was looking for.

“You used to be a gentleman,” Hazel said bitterly as she stumbled to her feet, backing up. He had never so blatantly ignored her consent like that before, touching her like she was a means to an end instead of a person.

“I’m not going to be a gentleman when you have my lifeline tucked against your skin,” Frank said cruelly.

Hazel saw his muscles tense and just had enough time to say “No--” when he lunged, turning into a hawk. She slashed with her sword, but then he was a coyote, hitting her with so much force she fell again. There was a ripping noise, but she didn’t have time to react because then he was on top of her in human form again. They wrestled for a moment, but Hazel had never excelled in hand-to-hand combat, and he was twice her size with the upper hand. He threw her spatha to the side, then pinned her beneath him.

“I’m sorry,” he muttered, then there was a hand over her mouth. She lurched, screaming into it as he ripped the duct-taped timber off her leg, taking some of her hair with it.

As a wolf, he must’ve bitten off a hunk of her sweatpants, and now he had the timber back in his hand.

He looked at it in awe, as if he wasn’t didn’t even see her as a threat anymore.

She gritted her teeth and summoned her sword. It flew so fast it knocked Frank in the back of the head, and then she was able to throw him off her body, slashing at the same time. He turned into a hawk but wasn’t quick enough, and she sliced off part of his wing. He fell, rolling away in human form, and when he came to a stop Hazel saw the huge gash down his arm. He reached up to touch it, and it was then that Hazel realized he didn’t have the wood.

She spotted it, laying in the center of the floor, at the same time as he did. They both lunged, Frank’s image flickering through half a dozen transformations before he grabbed onto the timber with his thick human hand. Hazel almost took off his fingers as she swung. Instead of knocking the wood out of his hand, however, she cut it clear in half.

That was good enough for her. She dove, grabbing the wood and rolling.

She landed in a kneeling position, half of the piece of timber in her hands. Frank held the other, teeth gritted. He looked like he planned to launch another attack, but before he could Hazel did what she should’ve done a long time ago: warping the imperial gold of her sword, turning it to its liquid state in mid-air, and using it to coat her piece of wood. She raised it, triumphant, the metal-covered wood levitating an inch above her hand. It glowed inhumanly-- after all, she had her own curses to deal with. Frank wouldn’t dare touch it now.

The house shook. It took Hazel a moment to realize that was her magic, causing the very foundations of the house to tremor. There were shouts from the lower floor, the sound of pounding footsteps.

“Try me again,” she threatened, still levitating her trophy grotesquely. “I will end you.”

Frank looked pissed, but he also must’ve seen how serious she was. He swallowed, stuffing his piece of firewood back in his pocket. “Until we meet again-- Levesque.”

Then he turned into a bat, still able to fly despite his injured wing. The door opened and he swooped out, escaping into the rest of the house and eventually, into the night.

Jason and Percy lurched in, both looking panicked. They didn’t seem to have noticed the bat. When Jason saw Hazel, his eyes widened, and he backed up into Percy, nearly knocking him over. “Hazel-- your eyes--”

Hazel realized her eyes must’ve started glowing gold, like they sometimes did when she was filled with rage. With effort, she willed them to stop, calling on the house to still.

“What happened?” Percy asked as Hazel walked to the window. She watched as a bat darted out the front door, which was still open-- Jason and Percy must’ve just gotten back. She continued watching the bat until it was too far away to see, then sighed. She willed the metal to uncover the piece of tinder, revealing it as a piece of wood again, and holding it up for them to see.

She’d never told anyone Frank’s secret, thinking her loyalty to her promise came before anything else. She didn’t think that anymore, though, and she was done doing Frank favors.

(The wood still had Frank’s blood on it, and it made Hazel’s stomach twist uncomfortably.)

“I have something to tell you guys,” Hazel said, doing an impressive job of keeping her voice from shaking. “A secret I’ve been holding for Frank for-- too long. It may not be enough to destroy him, but at the very least, I know a way where we can hurt him very, very badly.”

Send me an ask | Read "Preserve or Raze" | Check out my AO3

#ask #answer #Dark!Frank #Dark!Percy #dark fic #frank zhang #fic #fanfic #2-5k

[ruewrites]

‘mars argo - using you’ but make it asmo/solomon

You’re The Only One

AO3

Ship: Solomon/Asmo

Word Count: 2045

Warnings: Sight smut mention

A/N: Hi anon! This is my first time doing a song fic so I hope I did it justice for you!  I really started liking the song the more I worked on it, and now it’s stuck in my head. I hope you like it!

What's with these homies who be dissin' my boy?

Do they know?

I'm aggravated with the negativity and the noise

They tell me "find a wealthy man"

But they don't seem too happy

Asmo’s lips pursed together as he flipped the news article away from his phone. Most of the time he didn’t mind looking at what people had to say about him. He loved reading over their praise and adoration, but every now and again they stuck their noses into a place that Asmo didn’t exactly appreciate. Pictures of him and Solomon decorated the page. 

The Avatar of Lust Dating Out of His League: Is Asmodeus Lowering his Standards?

Shady Sorcerer and Lusty Avatar. True Love or Dark Ulterior Motives?

A Steamy Long Term Affair. Has Asmodeus Started Letting Himself Go?

Is It Love or Is The Avatar of Lust Allowing himself to be Used Again? 

Asmo was sick of it. How could they slander him and Solomon like that? And as if Asmodeus was helpless with his heart. He knew he had gotten into quite the situations in years past, but this was different. Solomon was different. 

There had many opportunities in the past for Solomon to take what he wanted if he wanted and leave. He’d had plenty of opportunities to use Asmo and to take advantage of him, but he hadn’t. Asmo would put his beating hard into his hands if he could. He couldn’t think of a time when he’d been in a happier and more fulfilling relationship, and he’d be damned before he let anyone slander his relationship in any way.

Throwing his phone into his bag, Asmo stood up from his set and walked towards the classroom door. He had places to be and a very special someone to see. 

Everyone else was clearly jealous about what he had, that he chose Solomon and not them. 

Solomon.

His wonderful and beautiful Solomon.

A man who truly made Asmo feel like the gem he was. A human man who loved Asmo for everything that he was. The most amazing man Asmo had ever met.

I was afraid to put myself on the line for a boy

'Til he put me in my place and showed me how to enjoy myself

I think I need your help

I think she's coming back

Oh the way his chest fluttered when he saw him. How could Asmo not throw himself at him? He took off running and threw his arms around Solomon’s neck, giggling escaping him. 

Solomon stumbled forward with a small grunt, “Oh oh! Careful. I don’t want to drop your gift.”

“Gift?”

Asmo tried to peak over Solomon’s shoulders before letting go and looking up expectantly. Solomon turned around, and lifted the lid off of the box in his hands. Cupcakes with perfect pink icing and the cutest little sprinkles stared up at Asmo. A little stuffed bunny with a pink ribbon wrapped around it even sat in the center.

“I got them from your favorite bakery on the corner, I figured they’d be safer with us than at your house,” he said. 

Oh to say this was lovely was  an understatement as Solomon slipped the box back into his bag where they could be safe.

Most of his past relationships had never thought of doing tiny things like this for him. Solomon knew his favorite drinks, his favorite animals, and smaller details about him. He didn’t always have to explicitly say things either. Of course Solomon asked him about things every now and again, but he also noticed things about Asmo. He noticed the tiny things that other people never did or didn’t care too. 

Solomon almost felt too good to be true at times. Asmo had to wonder if he even deserved him, if he even deserved this. 

There is a voice inside my head that's tellin' me that it's right

Am I naive to think that he could be the love of my life?

I never thought I'd tell him

How scared I am of losing him

Asmo felt the tears prick at his eyes before he could stop them. He tried to wipe them away quickly, but to no avail. Solomon had already seen and was cupping his face carefully. Asmo wrapped his arms around him as if Solomon were his lifeline, and in a sense he was.

The feelings almost came out of nowhere. Asmo hated admitting to the fact that what was said finally got to him, and he hated the idea that now it moved from his own person, to a relationship he adored and wanted to keep. He really couldn’t do anything right could he? There wasn’t a way to please them all was there?

So many people had come and gone from his life, people who could have cared less about his well being or Asmo as a person. But now he had that. He had a person who cared for all of him, and loved Asmo for all of his parts, even the ones he hated about himself.  The last thing he wanted to do was lose him, the last thing he needed was for him to leave him. 

“Asmodeus-?”

“Never leave me,” Asmo sniffled, burying his face in Solomon’s chest, “I love you so much, I don’t know what I’d do if I lost you, I wouldn’t- I couldn’t-” 

His face was slowly lifted from his hiding spot as Solomon brought their lips together.

“You won’t have to,” Solomon’s thumb brushed against his cheek before going to wipe the tears away, “I’m not going anywhere.”

“Promise?”

The question felt vulnerable. Asmo didn’t normally cry when Solomon gave him things, but just thinking about the nature of his gifts and how much he cared….

It was almost too much for Asmo.

Another kiss was placed on his lips, then his forehead, and finally his hands. “I promise. I’m never leaving you. Even if the world ended, I would still be here. I’m in it forever with you. Anyone who says otherwise can have a little chat with me.”

Someday we'll both be older

I wonder if we'll be together looking back on the past

But I don't want live to see another day

Oh, I love you in the worst way

One of the cupcakes sat on a tiny plate next to him. Solomon also made him some tea. Well, Asmo made the tea. Solomon had just gotten him the packet. He was curled up next to him, fingers gently playing with his sides as some movie played before them. 

Asmo slowly found himself becoming lost in thought. When he first met Solomon all those millenia ago, he couldn’t have imagined that they’d end up like this. Of course he’d always thought Solomon was attractive even in his years as a king, and he knew Solomon found him physically attractive (how could he not?), but to be loved by someone like him?  

It was surreal.

He snuggled closer and buried his face in Solomon’s shoulder.

“Something on your mind?” Solomon asked, glancing away from the screen to look at Asmodeus. He squeezed Asmo even closer making him glance up and come back to where they were.

“Oh nothing, just thinking about how lucky I am to have a hot boyfriend to match me.”

Solomon nodded and nuzzled into his hair, “I also consider myself quite lucky. You’re a treasure Asmo.”

Asmo felt his heart catch in his throat.

Only Solomon could do this to him.

I love you and I hate you and I'm losing my mind

And you tell me all the time that this will pass

And that I'm gonna be fine

We're such a mess together

You make me lose my temper

“You know, I’ve been told I’m magic in bed.”

“Solomon.”

“I guess you could say I even have a few tricks up my sleeve.”

“Don’t.”

A card dangled in front of Asmo’s face, and he couldn’t help but roll his eyes. “Is this your card my darling dearest? I think the Queen of Hearts suits you well.”

Oh Solomon was pushing it tonight. Asmo felt him shift to come in for a kiss, but he held up a finger, stopping him dead in his tracks. “Oh no. Nuh uh,” he tutted, “Men who make awful terrible puns don’t get kisses.”

Solomon blinked a few times before cocking his head to the side, a smug smile spreading across his face, “Not even incredibly hot men who make awful terrible puns? A man who you love so very much?”

Asmo shoved his face away and laughed, “Oh you are so full of yourself!”

“Mmmh, and you’re not?”

“I’m the Avatar of Lust, I think I can afford it.”

Solomon let out a rather dramatic sigh, letting himself flop face down on Asmo’s chest, “Oh whatever am I to do? I can't even be spared a single smidgen of a kiss from my dear Asmodeus. Oh woe is me.” His lips brushed against  Asmo’s collar bone before latching on to Asmo’s neck. 

Fingers gripped on to the black turtle neck and started to lift it upwards. Hips moved involuntarily against Solomon’s and teeth dug into his lips. Solomon raised his head and looked at Asmo. Not a word passed between them, instead Solomon waggled his eyebrows.

And that was what broke Asmo. 

It seemed like an eternity before he caught his breath. He knew that sex probably wasn’t the initial thing they were going to do, but he’d never turn down an opportunity, not from Solomon. 

“Wanna see what other ways I can be magical?”

“Solomon!”

“I have a magic wand on hand.”

“How can you say any of this with a straight face?” Asmo wheezed, he wiped a tear from his eye, “Alright, alright, fine. Sometimes men who make awful terrible puns can get kisses, and a little more.” He pecked Solomon’s lips. 

“Now show me this magic you’re talking about.”

You're the only one

Who's making me come

To my sinful senses

I'll never love anyone the same

I'll never feel ashamed of using you for pleasure

“Solomon, you were literally inside of me.” Asmo was in the middle of the bath, water coming up to his waist. He didn’t need to look at Solomon to see the smug expression on his face. Solomon was seated near the edge of the pool, eyes never once leaving Asmo’s form.

Humming softly, he sunk further down into the water, “I’m aware, but you know I just love your laugh.”

“It’s hard to be sexy when I’m laughing.”

“I disagree,” the water rippled around them, and soon arms snaked their way around Asmo’s waist and hot kisses were being pressed against his neck, “I know you’re enjoying yourself, genuinely enjoying yourself. And what’s sexier than knowing without a doubt that my partner is having a good time?” The kisses moved from his neck down his arm and Asmo couldn’t help the shudder that ran through him. 

Asmo tilted his head to the side as Solomon started to make his way back up. “It is hard not to laugh when you tell me if I were a class you’d ace me or how I’m the sexiest shoe you’ve ever seen when I’m all tied up,” he giggled, “I swear, I never know if you’re going to be super sexy or super silly.”

“Are you complaining?”

“Not in the slightest.”

“Good, because there’s absolutely nothing to complain about when it comes to my subjective techniques.”

Oh he was a dork. But he was Asmo’s dork, and he couldn’t help the slew of giggles that fell from his mouth.

“See? There you go being sexy again.”

Asmo flicked some water at him before turning his head and inviting Solomon in for a kiss. When they pulled away, Asmo started to make his way towards the edge and left the water. He slipped into his fluffy pink robe and allowed himself to enjoy the soft plush.

“More bad movies and cuddling?” Solomon asked following suit.

“That sounds lovely.”

When their lips met again, Asmo couldn’t help the smile that spread across his lips.

How lucky had he been to meet Solomon?

How lucky had he been to find the love of his life?

#ruewrites #solodeus #asmodeus x solomon #soloasmo #asmosolo #solasmo #obey me #obey me asmodeus #obey me solomon #songfic #fluff #anon #request #anon request

[winterknight1087]

Hardly the Villains

Summary: Roman is the superhero Prince, who fights against the Dark Sides, consisting of Green Menace, Viper, and Shadow Wing. What happens when Roman discovers the real identity of these villains will change his outlook of them.

Word Count: 4868

Warnings: sympathetic Remus, sympathetic Deceit/Janus, fighting, injuries, cursing

Pairings: eventual romantic LAMP, romantic Demus, brotherly creativitwins, brotherly anxceit

AO3 Link       My Writing

@rosesisupposes I am so sorry this is a little bit late! 2020 ended the same way it went. But still, I hope you enjoy your @sanderssidesgiftxchange present! It was a fun challenge to work on a superhero fic focused on Roman and Remus!

"Here hold this."

The masked hero barely had time to catch the thing thrown at him, much less identify what it was, before the stick of dynamite blew up in his face. If it were any other super villain, then this would have been the end of the hero. Yet, Green Menace didn't seem to get the memo that he was supposed to try and kill the hero.

The hero let out a squawk as, for the third time this week, his face and hair were covered in cartoonish ash. He heard the cackle of the villain as Viper told Menace that they needed to go.

"Til next time, Princey." Shadow Wing announced.

“Stop flirting and let’s get out of here.” Viper stated to Shadow, not caring if the hero heard or not. The hero did hear, but he also couldn’t see Shadow’s reaction as the villain scooped up Viper and vanishing into the shadows.

"Well, this was fun!" Menace cackled before pulling a paint brush out of nowhere and painting a tunnel on a wall.

The hero knew better than to go after Menace at that point. All of Menace’s powers followed cartoon logic. He had flown straight into too many walls to know that only Menace could use those dumb paintings to travel. So, the hero sigh and flew off.

 ****

“Like honestly, does that fiend have any idea how hard it is to get that gunk out of my hair?” Roman scrubbed his hair with the towel around his head.

His boyfriend didn’t even bother looking up from his book. “I highly doubt that he knows considering that he is smart enough not to be here after your fights.”

“Sure, I have to take a shower anyways, because of normal fight dirt, but that fiend just has to give me that dumb stick and I have to spend 5ever trying to get the stuff out of my hair!”

“You could try asking him not to hand you the stick of dynamite.”

Roman gave the book Logan was holding determinedly in front of his face, the glare meant for the nerd. “Right, yeah, sure. Something like ‘Excuse me, fiend I fight at least three times a week, can you like not hand me your explosion gunk sticks? Thanks boo.’ How’s that sound?”

“Sounds perfect, RoRo! Just make sure to use your please and thank you’s!” The third boyfriend said, swooping in with a plate of cookies.

Logan finally lowered his book to glance at his watch. “Hmm, you are getting faster at washing that stuff out of your hair, Roman. Patton usually has eaten half of his baked goods before you return.”

Roman managed to let out an offended squawk before the windows suddenly blew in, knocking the bug screen inside the house. The gust of wind responsible seemed to spin around Patton before vanishing. The man let out a small giggle before the chaos appeared.

Remus was shrieking as he scrambled through the window. Logan managed to count to two before a furious looking goose followed the chaotic man in. Remus was already running down the hall to his room, but the goose didn’t seem to be deterred, even if the goose had to make its nest and raise its chicks outside this fiend’s door. The goose would get its revenge eventually.

This time, Logan got to ten before the front door was thrown open with the other two. Janus barked at Roman to help him before sprinting down the hall. Roman shut his eyes to let out a breath, but a crash and something shattering sent him after his twin and twin’s boyfriend. Virgil let out his own breath before saying something that couldn’t be overheard by a loud beep.

“Patton, stop trying to give me a filter! It’s not going to happen and I think a murderous goose deserves a swear or two!”

“What did Remus do this time?” Logan asked, unnervingly calm about this entire situation.

Virgil ran a hand through his hair. “Jan told Remus to get out more and enjoy the sunlight for once. Remus pulled out his meme skills and informed us he went to the park. Then as Jan was congratulating him on going outside, Ree pulled out the goose and it did not like that. We’ve been following the idiot and goose since 4th Street.”

“I’ll go grab the three of you some water then.” Patton hummed as he went back into the kitchen, ignoring the screeching and thumps from further down the hall.

“I am pleased to hear you are getting exercise at least, Virgil.” Logan commented, returning to his book.

“I swear the rat is going to give me a heart attack one of these days, and then I won’t hear the end of Jan’s whining.”

“I do not whine.”

Logan lowered his book, questioning why he was even bothering to try and continue reading. “Also, why would Janus whine to you if you were the one to have a heart attack? I would assume he would whine to the rest of us, as I doubt he would whine to his boyfriend.”

“Janny, you would 100% whine that I was making the rat look bad.” Virgil stated, rolling his eyes.

“I thought I told you to stop calling me that.”

A voice at the front door cackled. “But Janny makes you go red and it’s cute!”

Logan raised an eyebrow at Remus, who now stood at the door as if nothing had happened. “Did you climb out your bedroom window to avoid the goose?”

“No,” He grinned. “I climbed out to avoid my bro bro twin. Pretty sure he’s still screaming at my door. Where’d Goose Janus go?”

“Well, Janus is right there, however, I am unsure what has become of the goose.”

“Nooo, that’s Human Janus. I asked about Goose Janus.”

“Do not call me Human Janus either.”

“VeeVee, your brother is being mean to meeeeeeEEEee!!!!”

Virgil rolled his eyes at the two of them. “Where is the goose, Jan? I don’t want to be running after the rat and a goose across town again.”

“Roman managed to get it into a pillowcase. He had the top clutched for dear life while screaming at Remus. Which means, we should probably get out of here before the goose is released.” Janus commented.

“Oh, you three are already leaving?” Patton asked, carrying three water bottles.

“Patton, you are amazing.” Janus stated, snatching a bottle from him and downing it in a single gulp.

Virgil rolled his eyes at the figure going for a second water bottle. “Probably for the best. Prince Whines a Lot isn’t exactly agreeable after… work.”

“Oh, OK. We’ll see you guys later then!”

With that, Virgil shoved the other two out the door, muttering that he wanted to go lay down and not move for the next year. The two left in the living room could hear their third partner ranting at a door down the hall, oblivious to the fact the resident was gone. There were also muffled goose noises that worried Patton.

Logan sighed, setting his book aside. “I’ll call Animal Control to come get it. You want to go inform Roman that his twin is gone?”

“M’kay.”

 ***

 Roman’s day had been absolutely terrible. He had gotten a flat tire, some dragon witch at the store stole the entire stock of Crofters before telling him off for being in her way, and he accidentally dropped his phone so it now had a giant crack on the screen. So, when he walked in to see muddy footprints and what he would argue was the stench of a dead rat in the wall, in the summer, he was not exactly kind as he turned to face his twin.

Remus was curled around his laptop, furiously typing away on it. Roman noted the muddy boots that made the muddy footprints were hitched up on the coffee table, spreading the filth there too. Remus muttered something about ripping someone’s ears off and shoving them up their butt and that was the line for Roman today.

“Are you serious, Remus! This place is a disaster! When I left, it was spotless! And what is that smell?! Did you run a secret trash dump in here while I was gone?”

“Oooooh, that is an interesting idea.” Remus cackled, still not looking up.

If Roman had the ability to shoot laser beams out of his eyes, Remus would have already been a crisp of a crisp. “What are you even doing?”

“Hacking into a multibillion company for a sweet payday.”

Roman managed to get halfway through an eyeroll before realizing what his brother was actually doing. “Great, I’m going to have to burn that couch!”

Remus finally glanced up at the other, eyebrows knit. But before he could ask, his phone let off a ding and he decided that was more interesting. He snatched it up and started grinning. Roman watched Remus quickly throw everything into his backpack. He jumped up and grabbed a duffle bag that Roman hadn’t noticed. If Remus was covered in mud, the duffle was mud disguised as a bag. Remus sang out a ‘smell ya later, bro bro’ before he was out the front door, leaving Roman in the middle of the mess.

Roman took a deep breath as the door slammed behind his twin. He took another. One more deep inhale and he let out a frustrated scream into the arm desperately trying to muffle it. Now his throat hurt on top of him needing to clean up the mess his idiot of a brother left behind.

“Come on, Roman. Mom is paying off your car payments and rent for letting the bastard stay here. And you like not having to use 85% of your paychecks just to pay for those. Plus, the bastard spends most of his time out of the house with those irritating friends of his. It’s fine! It’ll be fine!”

He kept muttering this to himself as he angrily cleaned up the mud. Once he got as much as he could up, he took a seat (on the opposite couch as he now had to get rid of his favorite couch) to Google how to get rid of the stench. Like honestly, what did that bastard do to make it smell so bad in here? Roman thought it would be a bit better once some of the mud was gone, but nope, still just as bad.

Almost louder than Remus’s snoring, the Hercules song Zero to Hero started blaring from Roman’s work phone. He was instantly on his feet, heading to his room as he pulled it out of his pocket.

New message:

Human Computer: The Dark Sides are robbing the regional Walmart financial offices. That is two streetlights left of the so called ‘lame’ coffeeshop, Prince.

Moral Compass: Aww, I just put on the new episode of Steven Universe Future though!

Human Computer: I am sure they will apologize if you inform them of this. Prince, have you seen the message or am I going to have to hack your personal phone and laptop to get your attention?

Prince: 10-4 nerd

Roman grabbed his katana before rushing out the back door. He grinned as he twisted the watch face and pressed the newly appeared button. Sometimes making Logan watch cartoons and daring him to make cartoon gadgets was worth the mutterings and frustration Roman faced from his partner. The hero costume shimmered around him, concealing his identity as he took off into the sky.

Roman could hear the alarms going off. Even if Logan hadn’t specified where it was, Roman would have known where those fiends were. He knew that Patton would give him the scolding of the century if he knew, but Roman welcomed this attack. It gave him a means to take his frustrations off on some villains who constantly tormented the town.

“Sorry, Princey. Can’t let you go any further.” A voice commented behind the hero as he took in the scene.

“Oh look, it’s the talking shadowling.” Roman commented, turning to see the villain.

Honestly, seeing Shadow Wing always took Roman’s breath away upon first sight. Long wings were stretched out, barely flapping in order to keep the person up. Shadows were cascading down the wings, mimicking black flames falling to the ground. As for the villain, Shadow always reminded Roman of Wesley in his full Dread Pirate Roberts getup from the Princess Bride.

“Ooof, pretty sure you used that insult last week. Running out of creative material there, Princey?” That insufferable smirk!

“At least I have a variety, Raven Boy.”

“Mmm, creativity is not my department. Anyways, what’s up with the big knife you’ve got there? Wanna try slicing shadows?”

Roman had enough time to pull out the katana before the strange ball of frozen darkness was dangerously close. He barely managed to slash it. He still preferred Shadow’s cold blobs over being handed the explosive gunk stick Menace always handed him. Roman watched Shadow take off into the sky before swooping down close to the ground.

A ball of darkness landed right before Logan, or as he was in his own hero costume-the Human Computer. The villain was already rising back up into the air, ignoring the fact that he had just barely missed the hero’s sidekick. Roman threw himself into the fight, angry about the day, sure, but this villain just went after his boyfriend! There must be vengeance!

“Oooooooh, Shadow really does have interesting flirting methods!” A new voice commented.

Shadow threw some of his shadows at Green Menace, who was eagerly cackling. Roman quickly scanned, searching for the last of the evil trio. No sight of Viper. Then Menace’s voice forced Roman to turn back to seeing what the villain was cackling about. He did have to admit Menace and Shadow seemed to be close friends at the very least. Why does that hurt Roman?

“Let’s get this over with. I have SUF to watch.” Shadow commented.

“Okie dokie, bro-kie!”

“Say that again and I am sending you to the bottom of the Mariana Trench and leaving you for the eldritch horrors down there.”

“Pleasssssse, even they would ssssend thissss trash back to ussssss.” Ah, there’s Viper.

Menace was grinning as he pretended to wipe away a tear. “The two of you really understand me.”

Roman twisted the katana, mentally mapping out how to try and take these three down. It was always a difficult fight but Logan and Patton were better ground support while the dark trio kept to the skies, out of reach of almost everyone and thing. And because Roman was certain of this fact, he didn’t see the safety hazard strike him down.

All Roman knew was one moment, he was getting ready to whap Menace and the next, he was in a huge crater, staring up at four figures in the sky. The air was knocked out of him and his body did not want to move for the next year. Before he could reorient himself, the new figure knocked an entire building on top of Roman, trapping him under rubble. Not that the hero noticed as he lost consciousness.

 ***

 The three villains stared in shock at the new figure. The new enemy hummed disinterestedly at the pile where the hero had landed. The new figure turned to look over the three standing before them. He had planned this entire take over and subjecting these three useless tools to his will. Half of his plan was already complete, now just to deal with the amateurs.

All three of them had lost the easiness they had with the hero. Now, they look furious. In fact, Green Menace looked like he was about to rip the world apart with his teeth. The new figure didn’t place much thought on that, expecting that reaction.

“Now then. You three idiots see how a real villain does it.” He stated. “I will be merciful and offer you positions as my lackies, but this is now my town.”

Shadow was already pulling all of the shadows towards him as Viper hissed at the newcomer. “No, you will not. This is our home. We will not let anyone else terrorize our home. We might not be heroes to the people here, but we will not let someone come terrorize the town we have under our control.”

“Shadow, Viper.” Menace’s voice was chillingly serious. “Now.”

Shadows shot through the air, stealing the sunlight and replacing it with waves of fear and terror, as a long snake managed to coil around the newcomer. However, Green Menace was the most terrifying to onlookers and the new villain. Menace was out for blood and would not rest until the bastard was twenty feet under for hurting his twin brother.

 ****

 “…kidding me?!”

“What else were we supposed to do, Vee? Leave him there?”

“Take him to the house the two of you share! Hate to break it to you, but your brother is a complete dumbass; I wouldn’t be surprised to discover that he doesn’t know the truth. So, he’s not only going to wake up after a massive fight, in a strange place he has never been in, he’s also surrounded by his enemies!”

For all the luck in the world, of course this was the first thing Roman heard as he gained consciousness. The hero tensed as he opened his eyes only the smallest amount to see the trio of villains standing in front of him in a dark room. He desperately wanted to look around and see how much danger he was in, but that would require that he open his eyes and if they weren’t torturing him because they thought he was still unconscious, then he wasn’t going to let them know he was awake.

“I agree that he probably hasn’t figured it out yet, but if we left him, rescue services would have found him and if one of our identities are revealed, all of them are. What do you think the government’s first reaction to having the superhero Prince unconscious in some hospital would be? Hmm? We are working with what we can do. We wouldn’t be able to make it to the twins’ house without being spotted. We have our tunnels to get here.”

Wait… That meant… They knew where he lived. Oh no, they knew where he lived. That meant Remus would be in danger as well. It meant Logan and Patton were in danger. It meant that Virgil and Janus were in danger. It meant that everyone Roman knew and cared about were in danger because of these villains.

“I know that this entire situation is bad, but we’re doing the best we can. Even the walking ray of sunshine and nerd said this was the best option.”

Pound. Pound.

“Where is he?! How badly is he hurt?”

Roman’s heart might as well have stopped in that moment. These villains could do whatever they wanted to him, but he will not let these fiends harm a hair on Patton or Logan’s head. In an instant, Roman was on his feet, and shoving the closest figure to him against a wall. As he looked at the face he had pinned, his heart might as well be stopped as that would be a kinder fate than this. The face he saw, was the face of Virgil Storm-Ekans.

Roman stepped back in pure shock as his eyes swept to the other two villains, taking in all three shocked faces. Standing in front of him were both his brother and Remus’ friends, but also the trio of villains, perfectly mashed together. His twin brother in Menace’s sparkling green and black costume probably found in some thrift store, looking like some knock off Luigi. Janus in Viper’s black and yellow suit complete with the dumb cloak and hat. And Virgil in… Virgil in a black Wesley outfit with huge shadow-y black wings wrapped tightly around him.

“I-No… Noo… This isn’t- it can’t”

Patton appeared, blocking Roman’s vision from the three he hated. “Roman, hey, hey. Shhhh. It’s OK. Come on, let’s get you back on the couch. You’re OK, your safe.”

Roman was gently forced onto the couch before Patton started to heal the injuries he had. Soft blue light shone from his hand as each wound healed and vanished. Roman’s eyes were still trying to take in the mess, however. A creak pulled his attention to a set of stairs to see Logan calmly walking down, looking at something on his phone.

“Lo, do you have information on who the hell Orange Traffic Cone was?” Virgil asked, his wings fluttering nervously as they unwrapped from around him.

“I was going to ask the same of you. They were obviously some kind of villain, so I assumed you three would have more information on who or what they were.”

“Well, isn’t this a wonderful situation we have.” Janus grimaced. “I doubt they will be returning, however.”

Logan adjusted his glasses as he glanced over at Roman, pleased to see the boyfriend was healing up well. “Well, after that impressive show of power, I doubt anyone will try to take over the town from you three. I do wonder how the three of you gained so much power though.”

“We were the ones to find the dumb radioactive stone and spend more time around it, Logan. Proximity to the source of all of our powers.” Janus commented.

“Ah, that does make sense. It would also probably explain the extra developments as well.”

“Call them what they are, Lo. Mutations. Freaks like me… us have mutations.” Virgil spat.

Logan looked over the other, noting that the wings were tightening around the youngest of the group. “You are not a freak, Virgil.”

Virgil scoffed, “Yeah, right.”

Logan narrowed his eyes but could tell that it would take a while to improve the other’s confidence, so decided to try and improve the mood. “You are not a freak, Virgil. I know you do not accept it right now, but hopefully in time. Now, Remus, a question I have been meaning to ask. Did you really dump cow manure on the executive’s desk?”

“Wait, was that what was in that disgusting bag of yours?!”

“It was bull shit!” Remus cackled.

“What-what is going on?” Roman intruded, weakly. “Is-is this some kind of prank or a dream?”

“Roman, have you truly not realized who the ‘dark sides’ are?” Logan asked, curiously. “Did it not occur to you that if you got superpowers, at very least your own twin brother would also develop some powers as well?”

“But-but- they’re evil!” Roman screeched.

“Hardly.”

Remus knelt to look his twin in the face, concern filling the red-tinted hazel eyes. “Ro- did- do you really think that? Do you really think us evil?”

Words would not escape Roman’s chocked throat, but that seemed enough of an answer to the rest of the room. Virgil and Janus instantly backed away, granting Roman more space as Logan moved forward and took the seat on Roman’s other side. Remus looked at his twin in so much shock and pain that Roman wanted to lie through his teeth.

“Roman, while these three may violate legal codes, they are hardly evil. They are more like Robin Hood than some evil monster.”

“But today-“

“We were stealing from Walmart to give money to a homeless shelter full of full-time Walmart employees, Ro. What happened with that rando was unexpected. We still don’t know who they were or what their intentions truly were.” Virgil said, softly.

Patton took Roman’s hand into his. “RoRo, have you not even wondered why despite all those fights, you never actually ended up hurt? Not even a bruise most times.”

“That literally every hit that would actually hurt missed? Like I get thinking that of Remus, but of Jan and me?”

“But- what about you throwing one of those dark snowballs at Logan earlier?!”

Logan barely stopped himself from rolling his eyes. “Roman, I’m not sure you’ve realized yet, but Patton and I knew who these three were. Virgil was tossing me a flash drive that I designed to aide them in hacking through complex security measures that I was able to use to further hide the true amount they stole.”

“You were helping these fiends?!?”

“Well, it’s not acceptable that a multibillion company lets their employees live in poverty.” Patton softly admitted.

“Why-“ Roman was just so lost and confused. “Why didn’t anyone tell me? Why was I left out?”

“Most of us thought you already knew. Virgil pushed for a verbal confirmation that you knew before letting the idea that you didn’t know rest. It’s not like we made any effort to discuss work out of very specific locations, which rarely intersect between all of us.” Logan answered.

Roman ran a hand through his hair, trying to process all of this. The rest of the room glanced around at each other. A silent agreement to give the hero a moment was passed around. Once they seemed to understand the decision, Janus glanced at Virgil before turning to Patton.

“Hey, literal sunshine. Can you possibly take a look at Virgil’s wing and see if you can heal whatever happened to it?”

“I’m fine, Jan.”

“Bullshit. Don’t make me pull the older brother card on you, little shit. You only hold your wings that close to you when they are hurt.”

“If you’re hurt, I can fix it! You don’t need to be in pain!” Patton said, jumping up.

“Seriously, I’m fine, Princey over there was the one who got hit with an entire building.”

“Vee, let Pat look at your wing. Traffic Cone did a pretty bad number on you, trying to knock you out of the air.” Remus said softly.

“Come on, kiddo. I’ll need access to your back to see if the joints are alright, but you’ll feel a lot better afterword!” Patton said.

“Ugh, I can see the fight is already lost.” Virgil muttered, before taking his black shirt off.

Roman had a lot of information to process, but that didn’t happen as he saw how ripped the other was. He had thought Virgil was hot and Shadow Wing hotter, but seeing the two combined, yeah, Roman was gay. At least he was also poly so could ask his partners if they were interested in romancing a certain shadow. Which if his super gay mind could actually remember anything, he would remember that they were actually already pushing to ask Vee out.

“OK, you have a bruised muscle and some of your feathers are gone. I also think you have a broken bone somewhere around here.” Patton said, pulling Roman out of his gay panic.

Janus immediately moved over, looking over the feathers before letting out a breath. “You are one lucky bastard, Vee. It’s mostly tertiary and a few secondary ones. But that means you were close to getting taken out by that knife.”

There was a small mischievous cackle near Roman. “So bro bro. You crushing hard on Virgil yet, or do Jan and I need to undress him some more for you?”

“REMUS!”

“Whaaaaat, I’m just trying to set up my bro with my hoe’s bro.”

 ****

 2 months later…

 “Oh come on, Princey. Surely you can do better than that.”

Roman was glad that most people couldn’t see details of them from the ground. If they could, they would see that Prince had a huge smile as he dodged his boyfriend’s shadow ball. It wouldn’t do him any harm, and in fact all of their boyfriends found comfort in the gentle cool kiss of them by now. No, Roman was determined to tag the sensor on the other’s arm, indicating that he won the game today. Can’t win if Virgil won.

Below, Remus and Janus were breaking into an Amazon warehouse to steal food, blankets, and clothes to donate to various homeless organizations. Once they were done, the two of them would join their third partner in crime to ‘escape’ from the Prince while the Prince pretended to hate them. Prince would fly off, talk to police about what happened, watch the Human Computer bury the actual amount stolen so that the company would just write it off. The Moral Compass would gently push a calm acceptance upon everyone so that there would be less struggle to hunt the villains down.

Then, the three of them would go and change out of their hero costumes and pick up the trio from their downtown townhouse. They would go home, order pizza, and watch movies all night, laughing and having fun. The next day, they would spend the day dropping off items at various homeless shelters. Roman would see how much it meant to the shelters to receive the donations, and it would make him wonder why he ever thought the trio were evil. Then the group would split so Remus and Janus would head to the townhouse while the four boyfriends would head to Roman’s planning a nice night with their partners.

And honestly, Roman wouldn’t have it any other way.

#sage writes #sympathetic deceit #sympathetic remus #superhero au #logan #roman #virgil #Patton #injury mention #romantic lamp #romantic demus #brotherly creativitwins #brotherly anxceit #cursing #fighting mention #sandersidesgiftexchange #sandersidesgiftexchange2020 #rosesisupposes

[oneweekoneband]

i didn’t though

When I was twenty and tractable I listened to “Treacherous” and I believed Taylor Swift was telling me something, because “I’ll do anything you say / If you say it with your hands”, is not content meant for straight people, even though legally they, too, are allowed to hear it, and they do generally have hands. When Taylor Swift drank beers with Karlie Kloss at a Knicks game in 2014, I believed she was telling me something even more forcefully, because, really, why be at Knicks game if not just to kill time politely before fucking whoever you’re there with. When reputation was released and it contained “Dress”, a song about buying a certain item of clothing to look good for a person you love specifically not “like a best friend” so that after “all the pining and anticipation” they can remove it from your body and you can drink wine together in the bath, I believed Taylor was screaming a confession at me, and I was more than ready to receive it. When I heard from multiple sources just last year, amidst the aggressive rainbow-deluge of the Lover promo cycle, an ultimately false rumor that said Taylor was going to come out in a Rolling Stone cover story I, somehow, incredibly, brain as smooth as a baby’s ass, believed that too.

I have believed a lot of things. And it’s a nice diversion, to believe like that. But, more recently, I’ve found that the detective in me has turned away from this one. The only facts I’ll ever know about Taylor Swift are those she wishes to share, and speculating about what secrets she may or may not be hiding is a distraction from the real, joyful work of appreciating all these already literally, unequivocally, very gay songs. I’ve found, well, that I just don’t care anymore, which sucks, as I detest the squirmy idea that I might be growing as a person. But the truth is one really can write extremely, objectively homoerotic love songs yet be, for all intents and purposes, terminally straight. And like that poignant tweet about Lin Manuel Miranda tells us, you can seem gay, because of, like, your whole deal, and then it turns out you’re just annoying. You can even have a torrid love affair with your one-time supermodel best friend and in the end just want to marry some guy from The Favourite (Allegedly from The Favourite. I have seen that film three times and could not pick that man out of a lineup if my life depended on it.) and maybe there’s nothing to announce to anybody about it at all. Sexuality is complex and personal, and Taylor’s own sexuality doesn’t much matter to me, outside of how I always think it’s nice to know there’s yet another bisexual white woman out here in the world being even more irritating than me. (I say this strictly in terms of labeling; it ought to go without saying that Taylor’s various psychosexual obsessions with things like Amy from Gone Girl, and The Kennedys, and her house in Rhode Island matter to me immensely.)  It doesn’t matter because it has no bearing on the fact that she keeps dropping queer classics.

Anyway, yeah, most good Taylor Swift songs are gay, just like most good things, generally, and there’s a number of viable picks on folklore, except not “betty”, no matter what the collective banshee’s wail of the Internet tells you. The gayest thing about “betty” is that it’s Taylor putting herself in the mind of a skateboarding teenage boy, which, yes, admittedly, is a big homo vibe, but nowhere in or around this song are any people of the same gender identity smashing bathing suit parts together, or even thinking about doing so, and when there are so many better options available, I feel it is prudent that we have just the barest hint of standards. As queerness itself is malleable, wonderfully, painfully individual, and comes in no one standard format, so too is determining which song on a Taylor Swift album is the most gay a singular, complicated calculus we all must do for ourselves within our own hearts, and, of course, there are no wrong answers, unless it so happens that your answer is not “the 1”.

“the 1” made me lose my grip for a moment. A cool lament, calmly wrenching, right off it was sucking out my bone marrow and I wasn’t able to name why. (Well, except, obviously, that the twin unit of, “You know the greatest films of all time were never made,” and “You know the greatest loves of all time are over now,” is pure, not from concentrate, peak embarrassing & devastating & all the more embarrassing for being so devastating Swiftian lyricism.) Finally, weeks after the release, out walking the streets of Los Angeles midday, masked and fractious, lower back sticky, brain a little mean, buying a soda at the gas station just to talk to someone, it came to me that  “the 1” is a spiritual sequel to Red’s drum-heavy forever banger “Holy Ground”. The Taylor of “Holy Ground” reminisces frantically about a lost love, some near-miss from youth. That drumbeat is a racing heart. The animating nervousness of “Holy Ground”, the way you can almost hear the narrator’s limbs flapping wildly against her body when she says that she’s dancing, has from the beginning marked this song to me as a story of looking back on some sort of formless and magical teenaged queer encounter. “Holy Ground” is looking at a precious memory like it’s a firefly in cupped hands—small and special and easy to lose—being not entirely certain what the memory means, since whatever it was that happened back then, you never really talked it out. “Holy Ground” is about a love that for all its vitality did not work out, but it is appreciative rather than sad. “But sometimes I wonder how you think about it now,” Taylor sings, “and I see your face in every crowd.” 

“But we were something, don’t you think so?” asks “the 1”, imploring an ex to confirm her version of events, to agree that she’s remembering it right. Taylor has not ever struggled in her work with place and the self and matching the two against one another on the wriggling timeline of the human life. I was there I was there I was there. The question here is something else. Not was it real, but was it real to you, and do you remember now what that was like. Do you remember who I was then? What we were? The truth as it pertains to the heart of another is guesswork at best, and a troublesome kind. Memories break and bend, or weren’t even recorded right to begin with, every brain a dirty liar, and for two separate, imperfect creatures to share the responsibility of preserving one history together is a disaster. The hard facts then are grounding. Essential. “I thought I saw you at the bus stop / I didn’t though”.  Everyone has past romances that they still ask questions about, yes—I am not practicing my virulent heterophobia today—but none of my queer friends are without at least one were-we-or-weren’t-we in their past, a clinch with another that was incandescent and unnameable, long over but dangling forever there loose outside the neat boxes of friend or lover. To be a queer person is to exist already beyond and without the organizing structures of heterosexuality, and this can be difficult, dangerous, but in liminality there is freedom, and in years of painstakingly debating whether I wanted to be or bang so many various somebodys I have, along the way, put the pieces of myself in the order they fit best. So then there are loves where you aren’t sure if that’s technically what it was, if it’s what they’d call it, too. Or loves that were undeniably real, only we were too busy back then with trying to turn into ourselves to keep it. And loves from the very start, from walking together on colt legs, exuberant and unprepared, and the memory is a blessing, and the memory is guilt.

 “the 1”, to the ear, is softer and slinkier than “Holy Ground”, but the lyrics are dismantling. “Holy Ground” says, “And darling, it was good / Never looking down”. Full of longing, but cheerful and sure. “the 1” is older, resigned. On “the 1” Taylor mourns a love not only because it has ended, but because she can sense, from the safety of time’s remove, that it was a love which deserved better, could have been better, if things had been only a little different, if they’d felt brave enough to try just a little more. In this version of nostalgia, the golden haze of “Holy Ground” is ribboned by a vaporous shame, a regret. The song relates a story of a love that is farther out of reach and meant more than what the little girl of “Holy Ground” could have dreamt. “In my defense I have none / for digging up the grave another time / but it would’ve been fun / if you would’ve been the one”.

#taylor swift #folklore

[popculturebuffet]

Goof Week: Goofy Birthday Shortstacular!

Hyuck all you happy people! And HAPPY BIRTHDAY GOOFY! The celebration already got on track today with a look at the two part goof troop pilot. You can find that here.  

That review kicked off GOOF WEEK my weeklong look at all things Goofy, but as is tradition on this blog the birthday of one of the big three wouldn’t’t be complete without a look at their theatrical shorts career. And with this one i’ve covered all three of Disney’s biggest stars having covered Donald last june (and will again next month) and Mickey in September so it’s long overdue that my boy gets a shot and even longer overdue I watched some of his classic shorts. 

A large part of why I started doing these is because I love classic theatrical shorts and the reason I love looking at the Disney ones is, unlike Looney Toons or Tom and Jerry, I didn’t grow up with these and Disney never replayed them. At most you’d get one or a small slice of one in a House of Mouse episode. So this is a fun way to dive right into history and see a piece of Disney I’ve only started scratching the surface of. 

This is a fun one too. I ended bumping this up to 12 shorts again, and i’m glad as it allowed me to take a look at some of the weirder stuff and we go all over the place: We have dancing, goofy begging for a smoke, goofy devlopnig a split personality that calls him fat a bunch, a prototypical max who is a LOT, trips to medevil times and cowboy times, a tex avery esque noir short, and the lead in short to National treasure. If any of that sounds like a real good time to you, then keep reading under the cut!

Mickey’s Revue (1933)

Goofy was created by his VA Pinto Colvig, who based the character on the local happy go lucky moron from his home town, and after a dicussion with Walt it was decided to roll him into Mickey’s growing supporting cast. 

My guess from here is they decided to do a dry run to make sure the character worked with audeinces before giving him a full time roll. Given Goofy’s been both a staple of Mickey’s supporting cast and often more popular than the mouse or even the duck, you can see how that went. 

Colvig was awesome. While Bill Farmer is my preferred Goofy, I still tip my hat to the original and it’s clear this was a character he was born t play and it shows: a lot of characters take a short or too to really find their personality. Goofy.. has his early shorts persona straight out of the box> The only weird thing is he’s an ol dman here.. but otherwise his schick here, loudly eating peanuts, laughing a bit too loud and annoying everyone around him with no genuine malice.. that’s Goofy and Pinto really hit onto something and as we’ll see today had a TON of range beyond this. 

As for the rest of the short.. it’s forgetable. It’s not BAD, but it’s just Mickey and friends capering on stage. Nothing really out of the oridnary for these early Mickey Shorts, especially since some of them could get really damn creative.

The Whoopee Party (1933)

Now we have Goofy’s first proper appearance, going from joke character in the crowd to full member of Mickey’s friend group. 

This one is also just okay, but better than the last: Mickey and friends throw a wild party, with Mickey, Goofy and Horace making the sammiches. Goofy dosen’t do much btu gets a good gag or two, and overall it’s alright. Enjoyabl efor it’s lively animation and not much else. 

Goofy and Wilbur (1936) Three years later we get Goofy’s proper debut, a cute short about him using his Cricket friend to fish. That’s not the exestitnal nightmare that it sounds like mind you as Wilbur simply tricks them into Goofy’s net an donly gets eaten when they catch on and Goofy runs to his aid. The short really is more about Wilbur but it’s fair: like with Donald , who was paired with Pluto in his first solo short, they wanted to test the waters before having Goofy carry a cartoon himself. As we’ll see he very well could, but it’s fair to want ot backdor pilot it first and it’s easily one of the best shorts of today’s batch.

How to Play Baseball (1937)

First off while they make a good effort I already know how ot play baseball short...

How To Play Baseball is my faviorite of the Goofy Shorts on Disney Plus, which is a VERY small batch. Especailly since most of Today’s shorts aren’t at all problematic or inapproriate for kids. This one is a gem though. It’s one of the How To Shorts where a narrator goes ove rgoofy trying and failing at an activity though this one’s a tad diffrent. 

 The How To Narrator teaches us about baseball before narrating the world series game. It’s full of cleve slapstick, high speed animation and plain fun. It’s also part of the trend that would dominate Goofy’s sports career of putting him in whatever roll the shorts needed. Here he’s everyone at once, others he’s his old goofy self, other time sh’es just a normal joe. But Colvig does every version amazingly, so it all meshes and that general goofy design is so appealing it just WORKS.  So yeah while i’m not into sports I do genuinely love the How To shorts, as they were my faviorite part of House of Mouse and still are, and the originals are every bit as classic as their reputation says they are. 

A Knight For A Day (1946)

This one is the only other one of these on Disney Plus and it’s decent enough. Nothing incredibble or extra specail: Goofy plays a Squire who has to fil lin for his Knight in a tournament and tries to win a princesses hand against another douchier goofy. Simple stuff iwth some fun gags, but it just dosen’t feel all that fresh, especially since Disney already did a much better shorts with knights with Mickey’s “Ye Olden Days”. It just dosen’t feel as fun or creative as that one was btu on it’s own it’s fine. Nothing great, nothing terrible, just fine. First short of the day to feature Goofy’s faceless blonde love interest who in domestic shorts is his wife and by the same extension Max’s now dead mother. 

Tomorrow We Diet (1951)

We’ve got three from 1951 here. By this point Goofy had traditioned from lovable bumbler to every man, taking on a more generalized personality to fit into every day slice of life scenarios, using those to brilliantly contrast the goofy animated comedy with the more mundane setting it comes from. And sometimes it’s just straight up sticom humor with the ocasoinal joke you could only do in a cartoon.  And sometimes.. you get a version of Goofy who lives in a mirror taunting Goofy over being fat and then trying to keep him on his diet while it’s not clear if thi sis a split personality, a mirror ghost tormenting him that took his form and is doing this so Goofy breaks the mirror and frees him, or his evil doppleganger from another universe. 

Yeah .. one of the centerpieces of this short is Goofy’s reflection/split personality/earth 3 doppleganger/some sort of evil genie taunt shim abotu the fact he’s putting on weight startnig by saying “Hey Fat”... because apparently in this unvierse the best weight joke they can come up with is literally just calling someone fat. I bet I know who rules THIS timeline with an iron fist....

The first half of this short is Goofy being told he’s fat by a bunch of people and the second half is his hallucination/psychotic break/guardian asshole tormenting him with the diet. And I do mean tormenting: He knocks away all of Goofy’s food, then suggests he not even eat his carrot and STARVE himself, which is just deeply unhealthy, and earlier forces Goofy to let him read his book and then tell shim to just diet anyway. Which granted dieting IS sensible.

So yeah this short as you can probably guess by the fact it involves the term “Hey Fat” which was only said by a human being once.. Dick Kinney or Mick Shaffer, the writers of ths short,  when one pitched the line to the other and they laughed for some reason and put it in the script. But with that you can wager this short is REALLY outdated> Overating CAN be a problem and fat shaming still exists, but it’s far less tolerated and far less of a thing.

And hell I can tolerate a good natured weight joke, the Critic had some great ones, especially as a fat guy myself... but this isn’t good natured. The entire joke is, as the man said above HE’S FAT.. So as a legit short. it’s deeply unfunny at best, horribly insulting at worst. But as a so bad it’s good short? it’s GOLD. From the whole mirror goofy thing, to the fact fat is seen as a legit insult here or something to just call fat people because that’s what the writers thoguht humans, even in the 50′s talked like it’s just riffably cruel.. though it will obviously depend onthe viewers tolerance for both fat jokes and how creepy the short can be and again as a short it sucks. As something to be mocked for fun.. it’s fat with potential

Father’s Are People (1951)

Hey Kids you wanna see Max and Goofy reenact Problem Child? 

Given I did Goof Troop earlier this week and i’m finishing this week with A Goofy Movie, it shouldn’t come as a huge shocker that I wanted to cover the first short with Goofy’s son Juinor, who’d later be remolded into Max. 

The short STARTS promising with Goofy having a kid and the hyjinks that comes from having a baby child: Goofy passes out Cigars because Lung Cancer was the preferred way of celebrating having a child in the 50′s, runs himself ragid helping out, which I give the short credit for as “Donald’s Diary” three years later would play a man helping a woman around the house for horror. Here George (Goofy would often go by George Geef in later shorts) pitches in and while he’s clearly exausted he is trying to help with the boy. 

It takes a turn though once we jump ahead to a toddler Junior. Seriously a red head named junior... there’s no way that’s a coincidence. Anyways, the problem is unlike problem child, where Junor dosen’t really go after his dad but the assholes around his pushover dad who genuinely deserve it, this Junior goes after Goofy who at wors tis mildly negelectful but clearly loves his boy> He also DOES try to take a brus hto the kid... but it’s hard to be too mad about that as it was acceptable at the time and he dosen’t actually paddle a three year old. It’s like a less horrfying version of donald puttin ga penguin to a shotguns face in that the targeted party dosen’t see the threat and that goofy isn’t some form of sociopath in this short like Donald was there. It’s just not very funny and only worth watching at all for the historical value. 

No Smoking! (1951) (Patreon Selection by WeirdKev27)

This is my first of two Patreon selections, my patreon is here if you want to chip in a buck to pick a short for Donald’s birthday next month, by longtime friend and backer of the blog Kev. He suggested this one for the sheer absurdity of Goofy smooking.. and was right on the money> This one is DELGITHFUL. 

It works on two levels: it works on the modern level of seeing such an iconic cartoon grapple with trying to quit smoking, first smoknig so constantly a giant cloud appears over him and he has about 80 cigs in his mouth at once, but then trying to quit and being surrounded bycigs before finally DESPERATELY begging for one. As I discovered you really HAVEN’T lived till you’ve heard goofy madly call out “Smoke, smoke gotta have a smoke”. 

But while the novelty IS great.. it’s also just a good cartoon. Outside of some blatant racisim at the start, with a native american sterotype introducing smoking to colmbus which feels so wrong to type I need a shower and really puts a damper on the short which after that.. is just really funny. From the smoking through the ages, to the very creative smoking gags it’s just fun.. and it is CLEARLY anti-smoking, showing both the insane amount of cigrte smoker can go through and how mad the addiction can drive you. It’s not bad... though if you can’t stomach the blatant and terrible racisim.. I get that and it’s fair. 

Two Gun Goofy (1952)

This is one of two “put Goofy in another setting all together” pieces, both in the same year which tells me they were trying to find new stuff to do for Goofy. Thi sisn’t unheard of in cartoons: Around the same time and before Bugs Bunny went all over the world and thorugh time and space, and Mickey went through the looking glass and had two fantasy shorts, so i’ts not unusual

But what IS neat about these next two shorts is they combined the two goofys: he has his goofy demanor and oblivoiusness from the classic shorts, but still has his deeper, slightly less goofy voice from the everyman shorts and is still treated as an average joe, just one now undertaking genre careers, here a cowboy and next a detective

This short is decent. I’m a sucker for cowboy episodes apparently: either old west style showdowns or having the characters go to a dude ranch or something. So naturally I picked this one and was told Max was in it an dhe is... in a two second cameo when Goofy has a thought bubble after meeting faceless lady.

But this is a really enjoyable picture. not Disne’y sbest but good stuff. It also pairs Goofy with pete which really is a perfect pairing, putting our scowling rotund villian against our skinny well meaning hero. And while i’ts a common gag in a lto of things I do love Goofy accidently beating the shit out of pete as the short finds fun ways to do it. All in all worth a watch. 

How to Be a Detective (1952)

This one was a REALLY fun one. Like with westerns i’m a sucker for a good noir parody, even if ironically I haven’t watched much of either genre proper. Add in the fact this is clearly inspiried by Tex Avery’s work and i’m sold on this fun madcap romp with an approraitely more noirsh narrator. 

Goofy is naturally a detective and hired by the faceless woman to find “Al” having to contend with both a goon he keeps failing to recognize and The Chief of Police, played by Pete, who keeps telling him “I told ya to stay off the case Goof!”. It’s just the delivery makes it funny any time he says it as does his instance... and the punchline, which I won’t spoil to both that an dthe overaching mystery i sa gem. This one’s on youtube, seek it out, it’s damn fun. Before I go thoguh I also love how Goofy is Given “Goof Balls”. Yes GOOFY GETS DRUGGED and I am here for it

Father’s Day Out (1953)

I couldn’t find any GIF’s for this one, not even one’s in teh same tag that were unrelated so here, have more smoking Goofy. It will never not be funny.

This one is ehhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhtastic. Goofy is overworked, wnats to rest on his weeknd, and stuff gets in the way. Oh and halfway through he abrubtly has to take Max to the beach. It’s.. not much honestly. It’s like the simpsons if it wasn’t funny. 

How To Hook Up Your Home Theater (2007) (Emma Fici Patreon Selection)

You may notice the MASSIVE time jump here. That’s because while Disney still does theatrical shorts nowadays, in part because Pixar’s shorts turned out to be a huge hit, they almost never use the classic cast. This delightful anamoly is one of the few exceptions and was picked by Emma out of sheer curosity. And she picked well this short is fun, feelnig like a big budget version of the House of Mouse How To Shorts I loved so an dhaving a modern yet still ultimatley timeless subject: while the tech featured is missin ga streaming box and 4k, otherwise it really has aged incredibly well and getting all the diffrent modes set up and what not is a hassel we al lcan agree with. 

It’s a fun short with lots of good gags and humor as Goofy tries to set up his Home Theater before the big game, and worth a watch. Weirdly not on Disney+ though try explaining that one. 

One final note is for whatever reason this was paired up with National Treasure: Book of Secrets. 

My BEST GUESS i sthat it appeals to the kinds of dads who’d watch National Traesure: Book of Secrets as well as kids since it’s an adventure film. Though it now makes me want to see Nicholas Cage voice goofy. Get on it Disney. Not forever though, Bill’s a treasure. Just for a gag like Don Cheadle vocing Donald.. oh god put them together.. and then have them do a movie together I don’t think they have and do not know why. 

Final Ranking: As a bit of added fun to close this out and as a new feature for these i’m ranking today’s shorts from best to worst How To Be A Detective How To Play Baseball No Smoking Goofy and WIlbur How To Hook Up Your Home Theater Two Gun Goofy The Whoopee Party Mickey’s Revue Tommorow We Diet A Knight for A Day Father’s Are People Father’s Weekend

For the record despite not being a GOOD short Tommorow we diet is at least intresting, hence i’ts ranknig while Father’s weekend is just a boring 50′s version of problem child. Fathers are People at least has some good gags to set it off. 

So thank you for reading and if you liked this review give it a like and consider joining my patreon at patreon.com/popculturebuffet. As a patron you’d get access to exclusive reviews, the patreon’s discord and to pick a short each time I do one of these shortstaculars. Donald’s comnig next month and the deadline is in only a few days to join up for said month so the clock is ticking. Even a dollar a month helps me reach my stretch goals so please i fyou can sign up today and if not, I understand and i’ll see you at the next rainbow

#goofy #disney #goofy's birthday #goofy goof #max goof #mrs goof #pete #peg leg pete #peg legged pete #pete pete #pinto colvig #disney shorts #disney plus #disney+

[uhhhhyandere]

I love, love, love you ❤️ I was hoping I could request where the main character begs for Yandere Light to let her get a doggo bc she’s so lonely since he made her quit a job. Like full on having a full ass fit. I’m talking full blown brat shit. Just how he would react and what she would have to do to convince him if you catch that drift 😏😉

yeah, i know what i said in my last post. whatever. never believe anything that comes out of my stupid mouth i am the single biggest sob in the universe. 

um… i took this in a… direction to say the least. someone has to stop me from riding suck n’ ride smut bc… it always goes like this. 

next light smut there is going to be ass-eating or i swear to god my name isn’t kerry literally all im thinking about is giving him a rimjob. really. this is where we are at folks. 

warnings: smut, face fucking (oops), dick sucking, sex, rough sex. he not happy boi

word count: 3.5k 

All you did was watch dog videos anymore. Of course, you watched them because you literally had little else to do during the day, but you just… happened to be more open about it when Light came through the door. Did it have anything to do with the fact you’ve been thinking about getting a furry friend to keep you company from the silence of an empty house and the dark recesses of your mind?

No, of course not. It had nothing at all to do with it, and it certainly had nothing to do with the fact that if you ask him directly, he would say no before any more words could breach the air. You would have to be creative, because when Light said “no,” there was no more argument, and you wanted this argument.

“A Pug. Wow. Beautiful.”

“Look, it’s a—it’s a Corgi. Oh my—wow. That’s amazing.”

You’d play around with different sizes.

“This Mastiff? This gentle giant? Can do nothing wrong.”

“This Bichon matches with the snow!”

And you’d talk about listings you just happened to see online from the local shelters.

“This one—wow. All of her shots. She looks so nice. Oh, and potty trained! What a girl. Damn.”

“He’s sitting down—oh a paw. I see a paw. Can he do the other paw? Oh, yes he can. Also has all his shots. Wonderful.”

Considering the man you lived with, you were pretty positive that he figured out your intentions day one or day two max. It’s been about a week since you’ve been… outgoing in your interest. At this point, it was a game as to who would break first. You bet he was waiting for you to get annoyed with his ignoring of anything you said related to the subject with how blatant he was with shirking you off, forcing you to simply ask.

You weren’t going to make it so easy on him. Though he happened to be the king of hiding his emotions, you knew you had to be getting to him. Light would never admit it, and he would certainly never show it. He wanted to keep that satisfaction as far away from you as possible.

So, you turned up the heat.

Before, you would break off the dog topic after a time, wanting to etch it in your daily schedule only bits at a time. Now? It’s the only thing you talk about, no matter the actual subject at hand.

“There’s another event we have to—.”

“The animal shelter is having an event in the park next week for adoptions.”

“I’m going to have to go for groceries soon.”

“Look at this weenie dog dressed in a weenie costume.”

“I—.”

“Doggo cute.”

It was only a matter of time until—.

“This French Bulldog is—.”

“Y/N.” His voice was clear, demanding. Even after all this time, like a teacher scolding elementary students, it immediately brought you to silence. You sat on your shared bed, legs crossed, as he leered down at you from the bathroom. “I would say it was cute at first, but you know it’s a waste of time to try asking anything indirectly. As if I would succumb to your manipulation, but I let you carry on. You would get bored. You would stop and think and realize that it was pointless to keep it up, but you persisted. I thought to myself maybe you were just trying to see if I would crack and give you the satisfaction of indulging in your antics, and I was right.

“It begs the question. Why didn’t you just ask directly? Easy. Because I would say no, and you would be correct. To allow something else besides me your devotion? Not likely. But what? Did you think showing me videos of Shibu Inus and Pomeranians would make me want one first? You have the logic of a six-year-old, Y/N,” Light began to unbutton his shirt, “Did you honestly think it would work? Or did you simply want to get a rise out of me?” He removed the shirt entirely, then lifted his undershirt over his head just as easily. Light tossed the fabric into the hamper, leaving a pale, lithe abdomen on display. He turned to fully face you and took two easy steps forward. “Why would you want one in the first place? Have I not given my fiancée enough attention recently? Is this your way of getting back at me, hm?”

You were almost at an even height to his belt buckle, but you did your best to ignore that as his eyes demanded attention upwards. His gaze was near malicious, but not quite so. Ah. Lascivious. That’s what they were. You swallowed the knot out of your throat.

“Y-you wish.”

“Your hesitation is very resounding. Then, if you’re so sure, indulge me. Don’t tell me you wanted a distraction from your loving husband-to-be. I know you didn’t want something else to focus on besides me when I’m away at work, so tell me. Tell me why you desired a filthy, shedding ball of fur. Your answer may earn you some mercy.”

You unfolded your legs from underneath you as your foot began to numb under the weight of your leg. Your hands glided back and forth on your thighs. Was there a point in lying? No, scratch that. Was there a point in lying to someone who already knew the truth? Well, his own truth that Light would undoubtedly make yours. There was little purpose in making it worse on yourself.

“No, you’re—uh—right.” Light set his hands on his hips.

“Oh?”

“Yeah, I’m just… lonely when you’re at work. So… yeah.” You risked a peek upwards. Oh, geez the smirk on that fucker. “I’m sorry.” His arms rose from his hips to cross over his chest.

“For?”

“Huh?”

“What are you sorry for? Annoying me for days with your drivel? Wanting a mutt? Lying?” You furrowed your brows. “Oh, that one confused you, hm? Alright, well, if you won’t admit it, I can do it for you. Lonely-“ he scoffed- “You can’t be serious. Such a blatant lie from your lips. The second time you are insulting my intelligence. I’ll ask one more time. Where does your motivation lie?”

“I’m not lying!” You hissed, jumping off the mattress to stand. “What—just what am I supposed to do all day cooped up in this place like a goddamned prisoner? Clean? The place is clean. Cook? As if you’d even let me try. Watch TV? My brain is rotting. You don’t even let me help kids with math anymore online. Just what am I to do? Next thing I may just throw myself out the window—,” Hands gripped your shoulders, causing a slight pain at the intensity.

“You think I’d let you? I expect you to stay here and be good and thankful that you are where you are. I, just as much as you, know—knew women who died to be in your shoes, and you’re ungrateful to be alive and safe? You want more?” You tried to shrug out of his grip, and he allowed you to take the steps away from him.

“I’m asking to be a human being, for fuck’s sake! I’m going to sit here and go crazy. Isn’t it enough that I don’t fuck with the rules anymore? I’m quiet. I don’t say anything. I put every façade you ask me to. All I want is something for me! Something to distract me from literally going insane here! To distract me from everything.”

 Light’s eyes sometimes spoke more truth than his mouth ever could. Right about now, the browns were all-consuming, aflame with ire, but his lips were upturned in a challenge.

“A distraction. Caught in a lie, Y/N. Bad form, even for you. After all this time, you still can’t face reality, dearest. I knew you’ve been pitting your mind in some gutter you call the truth. Makes this all easier to accept, but to go to the physical extent? I won’t allow it, and you won’t be able to recess your mind for long, so enjoy that pleasure while you can.” He paused, countenance recessing to something more composed. “You love me, don’t you, Y/N?”

“Yes.” There was no hesitation, no lie in that affirmation. It was the easiest of his questions to answer. “I love you.” Light inhaled deeply, chest flexing with the exhale.

“With love comes compromise, correct?” You responded with a glare. His tone was all too insinuating. “So, let’s compromise, yes? I hate arguing with you.” He reached an arm out, hand open. Your eyes glanced between the extended limb and his eyes before cautiously taking it. His hand squeezed and pulled you in tight. Light twisted and adjusted you so when he fell onto the bed, you landed comfortably on his lap. Releasing your hand, he brought his own up to gingerly glide his fingers across your cheek, a trail of bumps in its wake as it curled into your locks. Almost like a lover. Almost.

His fingers seized the strands and pulled, forcing your head back and opening your neck for his mouth to latch. “Then compromise, dearest. Prove to me what you think you deserve.” He spoke against your skin, open-mouth kisses with a hint of teeth between his words. “And I’ll make judgement.” His hand let go of your hair and traced to the back of your skull to slant your lips onto his impatient ones. The other wrapped itself to pull your body closer until he pushed you off with an unexpected force, almost knocking you to the ground.

From the unbalanced position, you watched him adjust his position to lie in the center of the bed, head angled to watch you from the pillows with both his hands as another cushion for his crown. Light smirked, watching you stand straight. “Well, go on. Compromise.” 

Light was never on the bottom. It was non-negotiable. Being anything else was utterly unacceptable for a god. This situation, despite the physical placement of both bodies, was no different. You may be the one crawling on top of him, fiddling with his belt buckle, but he had every bit of this situation in his control. Under his watchful gaze, you removed the strip of leather and threw it across the room.

“You’re going to have to help me here,” you muttered after undoing the fly. Wordlessly, he obliged, allowing you to slip the trousers off of his person. You glanced at his feet. Thank god he took his shoes off already, so he only lied in his boxers.

No, you would never be accustomed to this.

“You always look like it’s your first time,” he remarked. “As if you haven’t seen my cock before. From my recollection, you should be quite familiar with it by now.” You inhaled sharply. “Unless you don’t want to compro—.”

“Shut up,” you hissed, crawling to straddle his legs. “Just be quiet,” you said more quietly. You reached out to rub the only half-erect cock through the fabric. Only small groans were elicited above you. Light was not a noisy one, to say the least. It took your first, painful, terrible experience of deep-throating to even get him to moan fully.

“Do you think teasing is going to get you anywhere?” His voice is always composed during sex, and it really was alarming because… you really couldn’t relate. You glowered, fingers digging under the waistband and pulling. He helped again, lifting so you can get the fabric off. “If you think you’re doing anything fully clothed, I should take a cold shower.”

You made quick work of taking the layers of comfort clothes you had on, off. “You really know how to put on a show,” he deadpanned.

“Shut. Up.” You returned to your position, seeing his cock now fully erect from your previous work. You were sure you were wet, but you ignored it as best you could. You had a feeling you would not be serviced tonight. Before you can even lean down, he spoke again.

“Beg for it. Beg for the honor of sucking my cock. Convince me you deserve it if you believe you are so entitled.” There was not a single physical restriction to keep you from taking it into your mouth, but his words were powerful enough to keep you still. Light was daring you to try and misbehave, and you really couldn’t help the physical reaction his words always do to you.

“Please—,”

“Pathetic. I can have any girl in my bed. I can stick my cock in any person interested, and here you are, an ungrateful brat who wants more. You’re making quite an unremarkable argument for yourself. Perhaps I will take away—.”

“Please, Light. Allow me the honor of sucking your cock, of you fucking my throat. I want the privilege of swallowing your seed. Fuck—please. I’ll do anything.” You leaned down close, but not touching anything. You only lifted your eyes up to his. “Please. I know I’ve been bad. Please, let me make up for it.”

Your words in bed were always forced. He knew you hated dirty talk as much as you did, therefore he always made you speak, always made you confess how much you craved him, wanted him, and whenever you spoke it was hardly ever in lies. Your embarrassment was too prominent in your body language to tell him otherwise.

“Go on, then. Show me.” You licked up his length first, then around the head and back down. “Teasing will get you nowhere,” he repeated. You resisted the urge to roll your eyes and took him in, inch by inch. Light was incredibly average despite his ego. It wasn’t impossible to fit the entire length into your mouth with slow adjustment, but that didn’t mean it was fun. You would continue to work his length, getting more and less intense with your pressure and the speed your head bobbed. Still, there was little reaction from him, not there really never was any mind the grunts you could make out. Your inclinations to keep going, and you did until you pulled back.

“How’s—,” His hand was at the back of your head immediately, forcing your head back down, pushing his cock down your throat, pushing until you could feel his balls against your chin. No hair. He was pristine down there. You convulsed, gagged, choked, but he did not release his grip. Hand keeping its hold, he dragged your head up just a hair enough to thrust upwards. Water began to pool at the waterline of your eyes. You had to relax your throat, or this was going to be just worse.

But it was hard, so hard at the pace he was thrusting at. You squeezed your eyes shut and took it the best you can. Listening to his quiet grunts and groans, you forced your lips to continue covering your teeth, but you could not force your throat to loosen. Drool pooled at both sides of your mouth, carelessly falling into both him and the sheets along with the liquid of your tears. 

“Your throat is so fucking tight. That’s it. Choke on my cock. This is what your dirty mouth deserves.” Your limited experience could be to blame for its restricting. That, or the selfishness of the man whose grip on your hair tightened even more right before he allowed you to breathe once more.

And breath you did. Gasping, reeling for air as drool continued to leak down. From beneath your hair, you looked at Light, his eyes wild and alive with lust. Small heaves from his smiling mouth mixed with your wet and heavy ones. “Do you think you deserved that, dearest?” You finally wiped your mouth and shook the spit from your arm. “You’re lucky I am so generous. Come. For doing such a decent job.” His hands patted his hips. Swollen eyes met his. “Ride me, before I change my mind and fuck you into the mattress.”

Regaining some semblance of control, you moved to straddle his length. “Oh, your pussy is glistening. Did me fucking your throat really do that much to you? You loved to be controlled, don’t you?” You did not answer, shaky hands guiding his cock so you can sink onto it. You groaned at the feeling. “Tell me how good it makes you feel. How only I can make you feel like this.” You bit your lip, sinking down another inch or so.

“God, Light. Your cock feels so good. Only yours can make me feel like this. No one—no man, no woman, no person—can make me feel anything—like—this—fuck!” You sunk down to the hilt before you lifted yourself again, easing yourself up and down his length. “It’s so good—so good.” Light allowed you more time but decided your gentle pace was not enough to soothe him. He roughly grabbed you and flipped your positions.

“Too slow, Y/N. What did I say about teasing?” He brought his hips back and then snapped them into yours. You screamed, and you wondered if the neighbors would call again, but his pace did not relent.

“Light—please. It’s too—too much! It’s too fast. I can’t…” He smiled, a wicked grin over you.

“And you won’t. Don’t you dare think about cumming. I decided you don’t deserve it. This is your compromise. You get to live, marry, and get fucked by me, and only by me, and I will only have eyes for you. You’ll never feel like you need a… distraction again.” You clenched your teeth and pushed your head farther into the pillows. “I feel you clenching onto me. Don’t you dare think about disobeying me.” His thrusts were even, balanced.

“Please, please, please let me cum. It feels too good. You feel too good. I’ll do anything.”

“Then don’t cum.” You threw your hands back and gripped the headboard, feeling it rock in rhythm to his thrusts. They were beginning to become, sloppy, wild, he was close while you were holding back for dear life. “Y/N. You are mine and mine alone. Your body. Your actions. Your mind. I am the only thing you are allowed to think about.” With one final push, his seed released, filling and coating your insides. He rode it out, making sure every drop stayed. He hated to have to wash the sheets after, though your drool stains remained.

Pulling out, he retreated and stood, ignoring your writing, unfulfilled form. “Come. You aren’t going to sleep like—get those hands away from there. Let’s get you clean before you ruin the sheets even more.” Like before, he extended his hand to your heaving form. “Alright, alright, I’ll take care of you, but you need to get cleaned up first.” An unstable hand fit into his own. His gently pulled you to stand and allowed you to lean your weight onto his.

Hot water cascaded down your body. Though Light effortlessly scrubbed washed his hair, you could not bring yourself to match his speed, and by the time he was already done, you hadn’t even washed your body yet. You heard an incomprehensible mutter amidst the running water as he left you alone. He was washing his face as you finally emerged, wrapped in your towel. No romance tonight, you figured. Not that it was any different than any other night. You followed, brushing your teeth, washing your face, and taking your pills while he huddled in bed.

You could only dream of romance anymore. Getting your pajamas on, you approached the empty side of the bed. Before you could get on, Light shifted, opening his arms and staring at you expectantly. You froze. Did… did he want…? “Well, come on.” Ah. Was this supposed to be the ‘I’ll take care of you,’ he mentioned earlier? You supposed he would never wash you in the shower, so this would have to be it. You swallowed and fell into them, feeling his arm wrap you close to him so you lied nearly on your stomach, face buried in the crook between his neck and shoulders. His arm lied around your neck, the other near your elbow on the arm that sprawled on his chest. Oh, hello? What is this?

Ah. This is the quote-on-quote, attention he promised as a fiancé. His eyes remained closed as you stared. How forced was this? You wondered if he hated it, if he saw it was succumbing to your wishes, but it was unlikely. Perhaps it was him showing the physical love outside of sex that you lacked thinking it would keep you from having another outburst as you did before. Him keeping his side of the compromise so you would keep yours.

You allowed yourself to close your eyes before you thought too hard about his actions. The more you thought about it, the more—and less—real it all became, but if he was offering more conventional couple things: cuddling, dates, attention, you would not pose another argument.

“So, no dog?” you whispered.

#yandere light yagami #yandere light yagami x reader #yandere death note #light yagami x reader #reader insert #yandere reader insert #yandere x you #yandere x reader #uh oh spaghettio #tw: yandere #tw yandere

[azraqnar]

Thoughts on Agony of a witch (Spoiler warning! (Duh))

Oh boy I was doubting this series’s before but not anymore! This episodes is easily the best in the season. Grom doesn’t have shit on this episode! Everything was just great about AOAW, the music, the suspense, the action, the story, the animation, it was all wonderful!

- for one, Hooty is damn creepy when he fights not only does he effortlessly kick the emperors covens ass (you’d think they’d be more powerful than this but whatever) but he has a tea party with their unconscious bodies after. That was an interesting (& creepy) choice & it has me curious if Eda created him or not. We need a hooty backstory.

- Eda’s curse is getting worse and after episodes of not mentioning it they finally acknowledge how bad it’s getting & how Eda needs more potions or a higher dosage to barely keep it under control KEY WORD “BARELY”. It does remind me of when my aunt had cancer and her chemotherapy stopped working they had to higher the dosage. Good job on finally talking about it.

- When Luz leaves I do like how Eda & King reflect on how the “vibe” of the house changed when Luz showed up & how King thought they were gonna eat her (I guess it confirms witches do eat human kids)I am picking up a familia love from Eda & King so now we have the found family trope (Which I love). I thought it was cute when Eda decided to make a cape as a sign of gratitude & how it sets up how important this cape is when Eda talks about the material it’s made out of.

- Luz’s class is going on the field trip to the emperors coven but isn’t Bump the principal not a teacher?At my school whenever we had a field-trip it was the Teachers that went with us not the principal, Bump didn’t even play a big role so they could have swapped him out for a Teacher & nothing would change.

- Amity’s leg is still broken so she can’t attend the field-trip, which I thought was a good idea she didn’t go. I feel like the writers would try to force in more Lumity moments and it would distract from the plot. I do like Lumity but if Amity was there then fans would focus on that rather than the story & the last two episode were Amity focused so she wasn’t needed in this episode. Smart move from the writers, maybe if her legs heals next episode she could be there but idk.

- Now while Luz was thinking about stealing the healing hat I was a bit conflicted on it. I don’t like how the show is telling viewers it’s okay to steal but In Luz’s case it’s for a good cause, she wanted the hat so she could heal Eda’s curse. It’s like those cases you hear of people stealing groceries to feed their families, I felt the same here. Yeah stealing is bad but if it’s for saving someone you love is it really that bad? Idk if the writers wanted us to be conflicted over that dilemma but they succeeded.

- “Good luck with puberty” I laughed when Lilith said that, can’t believe Disney let that slip in.

- I have to say I do like the lore we get in this episode. Emperor Belos established the coven system 50 years ago to “honor the titan” which is the boiling Isles where they might get their magic from, before that witches were doing wild magic in what was called “the savages ages” it’s setting up more lore about the emperor like how did he rise to power? Who was he before? What were these “savage ages” like? If it was 50 years ago then there still are witches & demons that were alive in the savage age & they could tells us what life was like before. It also means Emperor Belos is 70+ years old. I’m just saying a human could live that long. 👀

- Now emperor Belos, wow his designs looks cool as hell, his voice is amazing too, it’s kinda sinister yet soothing at same times. As shown, it looks like he’s in a weakened state, he has to take these weird bird glowing green slime thing to have energy. We don’t know why or how he got like that, but it seems like he wants to Capture Eda so she doesn’t try to overthrow him since he’s weak. In fact, that might be the reason for the coven system, if he limits their magic then they aren’t strong enough to overthrow him. We only saw him for a bit but he gave a good impression when Luz said that no one will know about her stealing the hat we hear Belos voice echo: “ I will know” in the most bone chilling voice ever! The crew did a great job on him! Tho one thing I noticed is why is every big villain always in a weakened state? Darth Vader, Hordak, Aaravos, Zarkon, every anime villain. I just noticed this trope is overused, but I hope we can see Belos at his strongest and see how powerful he is. I have high hopes for him!

-Lilith discovers Luz is there & decides to use her as a decoy to lure in Eda. Which she succeeds when Eda goes there all angry for daring to drag Luz into her issues. I love how Eda doesn’t even try to stay calm she just straight up attacks Lilith & you can feel her angry.

- Speaking of that fight, best fight in the series thus far! The animation, the spells, the music, the raw emotion, it was all down great! It does remind me of a DBZ style of fighting when they’re moving so fast that your eyes can’t catch up & their magic surrounding them like Eda went super Sayion, I’m not complaining I like those kinds of fight & The intensity you feel in the fight is overwhelming. Luz’s life is at stake and Lilith even uses her as a human shield. She knows how much Luz means to Eda & was willing to kill her. Hell, she even threw Luz toward the spikes and Eda had to save her, then they both struggle with Eda trying to lift her up & Lilith trying to press her against the spikes & then Eda slowly turns into a monster THIS IS HOW YOU WRITE A FIGHT (takes notes she ra)

- Now the biggest bomb drop in the series. IT WAS LILITH WHO CURSED EDA. she blurted it out in a rage of jealousy it seems. They were insulting each other on how one is better than the other. Then when Lilith says “THEN WHY WERE SO EASY TO CURSE?!” My jaw dropped, I suspected they would tell us but not this episode, you see can see the hurt & betrayal in her eyes when it was her own sister who cursed her. Like ouch. From what I suspected is that Lilith was jealous of Eda from what their exchanges told us. But why was she jealous of Eda? Friends? Magic capabilities? Power? Maybe fighting over a crush? What? Whatever the reason is does not excuse doing that to your sister and your YOUNGER SISTER AT THAT. Goodness & I thought Edric and Emira took it too far with the diary thing. I’m officially part of the hate Lilith club. Idc what you do but hurting your sibling like that is the worst thing you can do to them, just imagined how much Eda suffered for DECADES with this curse. No redemption can fix that. But boy do they need Family therapy or just punch it out that works too.

- I loved it when Eda went into rage mode when she found out it was Lilith who cursed her. Her own sister. Like damn that has to hurt knowing your own family did that to you. She deserved to beat Lilith to a bloody pulp & I’m happy she didn’t even bother to listen to Lilith she just wanted to attack her & I don’t blame her one bit.

- Ugh the scene where the curse overtakes Eda was a heart wrenching one. She knows she slipping away and tells Luz to take care of King & Hooty & to stay safe before she slips away. When Lilith told Luz that Eda is with her true family made me want to punch her more than Amity’s parents. You feel how helpless Luz felt & I hope they work towards her character with that feeling because Luz is happy go lucky & seeing her in despair makes for great character development.

- it kind of reminds me of when Queen Angella sacrifices herself In season 3 but I hated how they never acknowledged it since season 4 & she doesn’t even return by the end season 5, they pretty much forgot about her. We know for sure Luz will never leave Eda behind & will go save her.

- So we know Luz will go back to save her cuz we do see her wearing the cape Eda made her in the promo. Also we have 1 episode left so we know she’s gonna attempt a rescue mission for Eda but will she succeed? She’s up against the emperors coven! She’s gotta pull all her cards on the table & team up with her friends.

- A witch loses a true way. It could refer to Lilith officially turning to the dark side or Eda being lost in her curse even into season 2. Knowing Disney, they will give us a happy ending cuz it’s Disney but I will be pleasantly surprised if Luz fails to save Eda by the next episode.

- One last thing, I like the credits had no music, just silence. It reminds me of in full metal alchemist whenever a character dies the credit are always silent. I guess it’s meant to represent despair in a way? Or change? Yeah it think it’s change.

- This is why shows should focus on the plot because when you do, it delivers for some great storytelling & this episode surpasses all of the episodes combined. when you focus on the story & lore & characters it makes for great emotional impact of an episode and I hope Dana and the crew continues to do this. This show has so much going for it & people who only watch a show for a ship are clowns because this is what you’re missing out on. an amazing story. I applause Dana & the crew for this episode, really outdid yourselves!

- Overall 9.7/10 it was phenomenal!

#the owl house #luz noceda #amity blight #owl house #eda clawthorne #willow park #gus owl house #toh spoilers #toh #toh hooty #king the owl house #lilith clawthorne #emperor belos #Emperor coven #agony of a witch

[marril96]

Pretty in Pink

Pairing: Rowena x reader

Summary: Rowena has had it with your disorganization and blatant lack of respect for witchcraft.

A/N: Based on this post by @gayarsonist

Editor: @miss-moon-guardian​

*****

It was the third time it happened this week.

Third bloody time!

Rowena was furious, fuming, face burning red as her hair — or it would be, if her hair weren't neon pink, glowing even in the bright fluorescent light of the bathroom.

"Y/N!" she shrieked like a banshee — worse, even — as soon as she got a glimpse of the monstrosity on her head in the mirror.

She didn't bother slipping on a robe or throwing on a towel — she ran out, arse-naked, blood boiling. Pissed off enough to take a life with a single glare.

She'd told you multiple times to take better care of your shite. Begged you, even, and she didn't beg. Not just anyone. But no matter how many times she asked and pleaded and shouted, you never seemed to get it in your pretty wee head.

"Wha—" Your mouth fell as she emerged from the hallway, jaw hanging in a big, long O. Your eyes bore into hers, swiped down to her body — her pale, bare body, still dripping from the shower, glistening in the light — and finally landed on her hair. A snort tore from your throat, undignified, filthy as that of a pig. "Oh, my god!"

Your laughter rang in Rowena's ears, a seemingly endless echo. She grit her teeth to hold back a growl more animal than human that threatened to break free. Squeezed her hands into fists so tight her knuckles flushed white as sheets. "This is not funny, Y/N!"

Your face grew serious for a moment, for a measly second before another fit of laughter took you over. "I think it's hilarious," you said, doubling over, tears sliding down the corners of your eyes. You couldn't help it — the more you looked at her, at her impossibly pink hair, the harder it was to control yourself. "I'm sorry."

You were not sorry.

"How many times have I told you to stop leaving your potions in the bathroom?" Rowena snapped.

Too many times. More than she could count. She would understand if magic were a novelty to you. But you were a natural-born witch. You'd always had magic. Rowena had been your mentor for five years, and your girlfriend for four — proper storage had been one of the first things she'd taught you.

And yet.

And yet.

You straight up refused to listen. Sometimes it felt as if she were speaking to a wall, though, at this point, Rowena was certain a wall would have retained the knowledge sooner.

It was easier to store potions in old shampoo and soap bottles, you always said. Why waste money on vials when you had perfectly good ones at home? Leaving them at random places around the house was just practical. Keeping them in a cupboard, as Rowena insisted, was old-fashioned. The bathroom, the living room, the bedroom — they all needed a potion or two, to liven them up. To make it clear to anyone who visited (though no one ever did) that there were witches living in this house.

It had never even occurred to you that you were messy.

It had occurred to Rowena. Multiple times over the years.

You shrugged.

Rowena stomped her foot angrily, fed up with your nonsense. Fed up with years — bloody years! — of it. What kind of witch lived like this, in this mess, in complete and utter disorganization, and saw no issue with it? What in hell was wrong with you?

What in hell was wrong with her for putting up with it?

Right.

She loved you. As reluctant as Rowena was to admit it, you had your good sides. You were kind to her — always had been, even back when she deserved not a sliver of it. You were there when she needed you. Held her without her having to utter a single word, without her having to plead for comfort. Showered her with love every single day.

Rowena couldn't have asked for anything — anyone — better, but still…

Why was it so hard for you to be a normal witch?

"It's not my fault," you said, trying — and failing, miserably so — to retain a serious face. "Maybe you should stop using the shampoo."

Rowena scowled. Wished she could find it in her to kill you for anyone else would surely be dead by now. "It's my bloody shampoo!"

"Oh."

Oh?

Oh?!

"Maybe you should stop reusing the bottles!" she snarled.

"It's much less wasteful this way," you said. "Besides, it's kinda cool."

"It is not 'cool' in any way, shape, or form. You are making a mockery of witchcraft."

You blinked. Snorted like a pig. "You're taking this way too seriously." Under your breath, you added, "For someone with bright pink hair."

"I'm taki—Are you joking?" Rowena said, outraged. Trying to ignore that last comment despite wanting to curse you out for the nerve alone. "Us witches have spent centuries rebuilding our reputation after our numbers dwindled during the trials, and this is what we get from witches today? Potions in shampoo bottles? Elixirs in bloody moisturizer containers?"

"I don't use moisturizer containers for—"

"That's besides the point!" She pointed a finger at you, nail bright red as her face. "You are a disgrace!"

Rowena wasn't sure what she expected. A sliver of self-reflection. A long, hard look at what you were doing. A promise you wouldn't do it anymore. Hell, even a simple nod in acknowledgment would have sufficed.

Out of everything, the last thing she thought you would do was burst into another fit of laughter.

Yet here you were, laughing as if you'd just heard the funniest joke in your entire life. Face buried in your hands to hide it, to hide yourself from Rowena's murderous glare. To protect yourself from judgment you knew would come your way.

"You know," you said, barely containing yourself to let the words out, "this would be a lot more epic if you had clothes on." An undignified snort. "And if your hair wasn't pink."

Rowena gaped. Fixed her stare on you, cold and deadly. Some audacity you had to talk to her like that. People revered her. Feared her. Thought twice before pissing her off. And here you were, mocking her to her face.

She'd given you too much freedom. From the moment you'd met, she'd never enforced her unspoken rules. Had never set boundaries and demanded respect. She supposed she always knew you were more than just another young witch tagging along, begging to learn her tricks. There was something different about you. Something — gods, she hated to admit it — special.

You fell in love with her, and had, in turn, taught her to love you back. Had shown her that it was okay, that it didn't have to hurt. That it was a strength rather than a weakness.

And now, when she was in deep, you laughed at her.

Rowena sighed. The things we allowed for love…

"There is no talking to you, is there?" she asked, completely and utterly defeated. She could teach you magic. She could teach you complicated spells and incantations, but she couldn't teach you how to properly store your potions. She could never make a proper, dignified witch out if you.

"I just don't get why you're making this an issue," you said.

Rowena could tell you didn't. You truly understood nothing. Had no respect for tradition. Witches today, honestly… "I'm—" She stopped herself before falling into another monologue you clearly didn't care for. Cleared her throat. Lowered her voice before saying, "Forget it. It's fine."

What point was there for arguing, for telling you — again — when you were clearly intent on not listening? You'd set your mind on doing things your way, and there was no changing it.

My stubborn wee lamb, Rowena thought, to her surprise, affectionately, cursing herself for being unable to stay mad at you. You were too stubborn for your own good. Too bloody strong-willed. A trait she admired, but, gods, it was frustrating to argue with you.

Maybe that was what she needed. Someone who wouldn't bow down to her. Someone who would stay strong and fight back against her silly demands, who would keep her feet firmly on the ground. Rowena couldn't deny she'd learned a lot from you. You'd helped her change. Helped her grow. Helped her become a better, kinder person. She would forever be grateful for that.

Just…

Why did you have to be such a bloody child?

"Could you at least put labels on your… creations?" she asked. Hoped with everything she had at least this one tradition you would be willing to obey.

What kind of a witch sorted her potions by bottles instead of names?

"Sure," you said.

Rowena breathed out in relief. "Now you are going to fix this." She pointed to her hair.

You chuckled. She was beginning to hate that sound. "Why me?"

"Because you did it."

"You're the one who took the wrong bottle."

"And you are the one who used the old bottle of my shampoo and left it in the bathroom."

"Fine," you conceded. A sly smirk bloomed on your mouth. "Can I take a picture first?"

"You cannot!" Rowena exclaimed, angry, offended at the mere thought. It was horrifying enough to have hair that glowed in the dark. But to have a picture of it? She shuddered. Who would want to remember this monstrosity?

You would. Your laugh said as much, and so did your hands as they reached for your phone and snapped a quick picture.

Rowena was fuming. "I am going to hex you!"

"No, you're not," you said nonchalantly.

She grunted like a trapped animal. You were right. She would not hex you. She would not do anything but glare and pout, and once you wrapped her up in your embrace, that would cease, as well.

Because she loved you. She was a fool in love, and she hated and loved it at the same time.

Some scary witch she was.

.....

Tags: @werewolfbarbie​ @oswinthestrange​ @songofthecagedmoose​ @apurdyfulmind​ @getthesalt-sam​ @metallihca​ @salembitchtrials​ @jay-eris​ @hellsmother​ @elizabeth-effie​ @shadowgirl-vsb​ @rowenaswife​ @wonderifshelikesroses​ @xfireandsin​ @liddell-alien​ @hotdiggitydammit​ @lae-lae​ @darkhumorsblog​ @angel7376​ @cherrypierowena​ @evil-regal-vampiress​ @hellbentredhead​ @angel-e-v-a​ @a-queen-and-her-throne​ @carryon-doctor-lock​ @fangirlxwritesx67​ @theeasterbilby​ @midnight-lestrange​ @osterhagen​ @impala-1979​ @gracib16​ @feelsandotps​

#rowena #rowena macleod #spn #spn family #supernatural #rowena x reader #my fics #fanfiction

[heyyyharry]

Chapter 5: Wolves

(from ‘The Conman and the Maid’ Series)

…in which Harry thinks dealing with hungry wolves might be easier than dealing with an angry girl.

Word count: 10.7k 🔥

Warning: SMUT (but y’all already know), lots of fluff (if that’s what you’re afraid of) and angst (?).

AU: princess!y/n, conman!harry, prisoner!harry.

Series description: Y/N is a princess and Harry is a prisoner in her castle. With his help, she escapes from her arranged marriage in search of a happy ending, if there is one.

Wattpad link (original character: Reyna as Y/N)

A/N: Let me know what you think about this chapter and what you expect for the next one! For those who asked me how many chapters there would be in total, I honestly don’t know lmao. I just plan the story as I write and it has changed a lot from the first outline. But I will see your reactions and comments and decide if there should be a second book✌️ Enjoy!

.

Y/N used to fear the woods. She had heard many creepy tales about it as a child and there was nothing worse than a little girl’s imagination. As she grew up, however, she learned that there were worse fears than imaginary monsters. Real monsters were the ones you saw every day in human forms, and so she always felt safer when she was alone.

It was different with Harry. She had enjoyed his company more than any other, and the trip had been pleasant until he ruined it with a stupid kiss. Her mother had always talked about how magical the first kiss would be if it was given to the right person. “No matter how clumsy, simple, or crazy it is, nothing else would ever compare. And even if you’ve never been kissed before, you’d just know you would never experience something like this again with anyone else.”

Y/N kept replaying those words inside her head when she ran from the house. She could not believe she had lost her first kiss to someone who didn’t even want it. And the worst part was, she had felt exactly how her mother had described.

No, don’t be stupid, she told herself, you barely know this man. He’s still hung up on someone else, possibly the true love of his life. So don’t even think about it.

The howling of the wolves in the distance pulled Y/N out of her thoughts. She slowed her horse, feeling the darkness drawing closer and gradually engulfing the two of them. She and Thunder had gone pretty far from the village and she had no idea where they were now. The silvery moon was obscured by the full branches above and she had to squint in order to see the path they were on.

“I think we’ve gone far enough, boy,” Y/N told Thunder as they stopped to navigate. “If we die today, it’s Harry Styles’ fault.”

Thunder pawed the ground as if to agree and Y/N pulled the reins, turning the gelding around. She’d only run into the woods to be alone and maybe give Harry a good scare. She hoped he felt guilty about what he’d done. Being hurt by someone he loved was not an excuse to hurt someone else who cared about him.

She kicked her horse and followed the same path back to the village, head filled with many different scenarios for when she saw Harry again, what she would say or do to him. Maybe she shouldn’t say or do anything at all. Maybe a silent treatment was exactly what he deserved.

Satisfied with the thought, she raced faster. She could finally see the lights in Stefan’s house, thinking she would get there in no time. But all of a sudden, Thunder reared and neighed loudly. The princess was thrown right off his back. Her body hit the snow. She groaned in pain and struggled to sit up, but the first thing she saw was a big white wolf jumping right at her. She screamed. The beast howled and collapsed right on top of the princess as an arrow went straight into its head.

“Peach!”

“Harry!”

Stefan arrived on Lighting with Harry and shot down another one so Harry could get off and help Y/N. She pushed the animal’s body off her just in time another wolf jumped in. Thunder killed it with a hard kick in the throat, rearing and neighing aggressively to scare off the rest of the pack and protect his rider.

Y/N’s head was still spinning. Somehow she managed to draw out her sword and take down another wolf before Harry grabbed her by the arm and helped her get on Lightning’s back.

“What are you doing?!” she screamed when he let go. Stefan held her tightly as she attempted to jump off while Harry told them to go without him.

“Wait, stop! Stop! We cannot leave Harry!”

Her screaming was pointless. Neither of the men cared about what she said as Stefan kicked Lightning and rode off like the wind.

“Harry will be fine! Lightning is injured, we cannot risk it!”

He sounded so sure that she wanted to believe him. She had to believe him. She looked back over her shoulder, eyes filled with tears and kept telling herself, Harry will be fine. Harry will be fine. Harry will be fine…

.

.

.

Harry watched them go and quickly mounted the black horse. Thunder took a giant leap to free them from the wolves, but one was fast enough to catch up with them. It bounced at Harry. His blade went straight for its head, right as its sharp claws dug into his arm. Its body fell onto the snow, and Thunder kept prancing across the open field, back to the village.

Harry’s arm was covered in blood when he got back to the house, and he immediately went to the stable to rinse his fresh wound. The pain made him want to cry, but it was better to clean it than have it infected. Before going in, he tore a piece of his shirt and wrapped it around his arm. He didn’t want to let Y/N know he was hurt.

To his disappointment, she didn’t seem very concerned when he entered. She and Stefan were sitting by the fireplace. The room was too peaceful compared to the chaotic scene earlier.

Harry took a long moment to watch them from the door. The physical pain was nothing now that he’d seen Y/N shaking in Stefan’s arms. He knew she might not want to hear his apology; still, he owed her one. He just didn’t know where to begin.

“Were you hurt?” Stefan looked up at him.

“No,” he lied and quickly hid his wounded arm behind his back.

Stefan only gave a nod before turning back to Y/N. “You’re okay now,” he whispered. “I got you.”

She let go of a shaky breath, holding Harry’s gaze for no more than a second before looking away. “Can you get the cloak in my satchel for me? I’m cold.”

Harry assumed she was talking to him, so he walked over to the table and took her leather satchel. As he pulled out the cloak, something else fell out, causing them to freeze altogether. Y/N and Harry blanched as Stefan widened his eyes at the shiny object now lying on the floor.

“Is that...a crown?” He swallowed, gawking at his friend and then Y/N, but neither could give him a response. He let go of the girl and bent down to pick it up. After taking one long look at it to make sure it was real, he shot Harry a glare. “What have you done?”

“That was--”

“Mine,” Harry interrupted Y/N and ignored the look on her face as he told Stefan, “I stole it from Willem’s castle.”

“What?!” Stefan’s mouth fell open. “You fucking stole a king’s crown?!”

“It belongs to the princess, actually,” Y/N mumbled, eyes on Harry, who was studying Stefan’s expression to decide if he should go on.

“I stole from them and they had me locked up,” he said. “I was going to be executed but Peach helped me escape and in return, I promised to take her back to Theros.”

“Does it mean Willem’s men are after you two?!”

Harry replied with a nod. That was clearly not the answer Stefan was hoping for.

“We’re so sorry we didn’t tell you sooner,” Y/N said as the colours drained out of Stefan’s face. “But we’ll leave tomorrow. We won’t trouble you anymore.”

“You can’t. Lightning needs at least two more days to heal,” Stefan said, looking at Y/N and then Harry. “Don’t worry. I won’t abandon you two.”

“Thank you, brother. I owe you this once.” Harry smiled. He put the crown back into the satchel and handed Y/N her cloak, but it seemed like she didn’t need it anymore.

She wrapped both arms around Stefan’s neck, mumbling “thank you” as he chuckled and hugged her back tightly. Harry stood there awkwardly. He felt like he was interrupting their moment, so he left the cloak on a chair and quietly left. He didn’t think they noticed that he was gone, and he tried not to be upset, but he was. He was bitter, too.

He went back to the stable to check on Thunder and Lightning. He didn’t really have to though. They were doing much better than him, and at least they had each other. He was alone. Now he couldn’t stop thinking about what could’ve been if he hadn’t kissed her. He could’ve lost her tonight. He felt so fucking stupid.

After a moment of self-reflection, Harry returned to the house and stayed outside until the cold became unbearable and he had to come back in, only to find Y/N and Stefan cuddling on the mattress on the floor. They were fast asleep. Watching them triggered something in him, though he wasn’t sure what it was, it wasn’t something he was supposed to feel. So he tried to shut it down by pretending he was fine and decided to go to sleep.

He came to lie down on his side next to Y/N. He lay still while staring at her face, mostly her lips, where his lips had been, and then recalled the feelings he’d been dying to shake off.

By the time his eyelids grew heavy, he had memorised every feature on her lovely face. The rhythm of her breathing eased his mind, slowly and easily sending him to sleep.

.

.

.

Harry was so exhausted he slept until noon. When he woke up, Y/N and Stefan were gone. Stefan had left him some food on the table but he didn’t bother to touch it. He wasn’t hungry. He was worried.

He wasn’t a team player, but suddenly he hated how they had excluded him from whatever they were doing at the moment. Neither had bothered to wake him up so he could join them, even though he had literally saved their arses last night in the woods.

Not knowing what else to do or where else to go, he sat at the door and waited for them like a sad puppy. A few hours later, Stefan returned with a cart full of wood.

“Sleep well?” he asked, but Harry didn’t bother to answer.

“Where’s Peach?”

“I don’t know.” Stefan gave a shrug. “She was here when I left the house.”

“What?!” Harry was about to run when Stefan held him back by the arm.

“Don’t worry. She left her stuff here so she probably went for a walk or something.”

Harry gave a nod as his brows furrowed but he actually felt relieved.

“I’ll be staying with my cousin tonight,” Stefan said as Harry helped him unload the cart. “She’s pregnant and she needs someone to look after her and the baby while her husband is away.”

“Oh, it’s all right. Peach and I will be fine on our own,” Harry said.

“My cousin owned an alehouse,” Stefan added. “Rain said she had never been to one so I’m going to take her there. You could come with us if you want.”

Harry stopped as soon as he heard. ‘You could come with us if you want’? Since when did they become an ‘us’ and he became someone who just ‘came along’?

Inside, he was fuming, but he covered it up with a smile and said, “I’d love to come,” and didn’t forget to add, “just so you know, Peach cannot drink.”

“We’ll make sure she won’t.” Stefan smiled, completely ignorant of Harry’s attitude. “Watch the cart for me.”

“Okay,” Harry said as he ran his hands over his face.

As Stefan carried some wood inside, Harry took the chance to pull up his sleeve to check the wound. It didn’t look any better, especially in the daylight. The blood had dried but it was redder and aching more than last night. He didn’t know how long it would take for such a wound to heal, but he might not be able to hide it until then.

“How’s your wound?”

“Fuck, Stefan! You scared me!” Harry gasped as he tucked down his sleeve but it was no use as Stefan had already seen it.

Stefan arched an eyebrow at nodded his head toward Harry’s arm. “It looks bad. I’ll get you some herbs to put on it and it’ll heal faster.”

“Thank you.”

“I think if Peach knew—”

“It’s Rain for you.” Harry picked up his sword and strapped it to his waist, glaring at the poor fellow who had to correct himself.

“Sorry. Rain.” He smiled. “If Rain knew you got wounded, she wouldn’t be mad at you anymore.”

“No.” Harry shook his head as he put up a finger. “If you tell her, I would literally kick your arse.”

“Why not?”

“I don’t want her to think I’m this...this weak bastard who cannot protect her,” Harry blurted as his eyes fell to the floor and his cheeks turned pink. It wasn’t like him to admit something like this aloud, but Stefan only chuckled.

“From what I saw last night, she doesn’t need anyone’s protection.”

“That’s what she wants you to think,” Harry said and turned to head for the stable.

Stefan quickly followed. “What were you two fighting about anyway? It seemed serious.”

“It’s none of your business.” Harry rolled his eyes.

Stefan didn’t give up. He rushed forward to stand in front of Harry and both men stopped before reaching the stable doors.

“I’m going to court her.”

“What?” Harry scoffed. “No, you’re not.”

“I wasn’t asking.”

“Neither was I.”

Confused and a little bit offended, Stefan followed Harry as he kept on walking. He didn’t wait for Stefan to ask and just continued, “I don’t think Peach is interested in romantic bullshit at the moment, brother. She’s going to Theros with me to reunite with her uncle. That’s where her heart’s at.”

“I can give her a good life here,” Stefan insisted. “It’s not safe for her in Theros nor Isolde. I’ll take good care of her.”

“You barely know her.”

“And you do?”

“Better than you ever will.” Harry exhaled sharply as he walked into the stable, towards Lightning’s stall.

The horse neighed happily when she saw him. Risking their lives for the same girl had really helped them bond, even though they didn’t receive the same treatment for it. Harry supposed Y/N had come to check on Lightning earlier that morning, but she didn’t even want to look him in the eye or bother to ask him if he’d been hurt too. Though he believed he deserved that, he was heavy-hearted still.

“She’ll have a family, Harry,” Stefan spoke after Harry had stopped giving him attention.

Without looking at him, Harry lowered his voice, “she has a family in Theros. She’ll be happy there.”

“What if her uncle is dead? Have you thought of that?”

The question froze Harry to the spot. He stopped petting Lightning and looked over his shoulder to meet Stefan’s worrying eyes.

“She hasn’t met him in so many years. He could’ve died in the war like my whole family, Harry. She’d be risking her life for nothing.”

Harry’s eyes fell to the ground. He was quiet for a moment and then squeezed his eyes shut.

“I said no,” he said. “A marriage doesn’t always bring a woman comfort and happiness. Peach grew up in Willem’s court so she knows that better than anyone.”

“Just because it didn’t work out between you and Kenny it doesn’t mean it’d be the same for everyone else.”

Stefan’s face went pallid as soon as he realised what he’d just said. He expected Harry to draw out his sword and stab him right in the guts. But surprisingly, Harry didn’t say a word. He already knew him being against Stefan courting Y/N had nothing to do with Kenny. And maybe it had never been about Kenny...

“Hey.”

The soft voice pulled their attention back to the entrance. Y/N stood there with her eyes wide, but she didn’t look at Harry for more than a second before turning back to their friend. “I’m ready. Let’s go.”

“Where were you, Peach?” Harry asked, but she completely ignored him.

“Is it far from here?” she asked Stefan, who awkwardly scratched the back of his head as he saw the irritation on Harry’s face.

“No, we can go on foot,” he said and repeated the same question, “where were you?”

“I went to the market.” She smiled. “Everyone was so nice to me even though they don’t know me. I wish I could stay here forever.”

When Y/N walked out, Stefan hurriedly followed. He was grinning from ear to ear but Harry couldn’t even move his lips. What did she mean by that? Would she even consider staying here with Stefan if he asked? After all, family and love were two things she’d been searching for, and she could have both if she stayed.

He exchanged looks with Lightning who seemed to understand the situation he was in. She snorted and shook her head, making him chuckle.

“This is not about me. This is about Peach reuniting with her uncle,” he told the horse and rolled his eyes when she turned away. Maybe even she could tell he was just lying to himself.

.

.

.

“Are these people friends? What are they laughing about?”

“They’re drunk, genius,” Harry scoffed, making Y/N glare at him.

“Wow, you weren’t kidding when you said you’d never gone to a place like this.” Stefan chuckled as he took them to an empty table in the corner.

Harry rolled his eyes, pushing his way through the crowded room as he followed Stefan and got annoyed by almost everything he saw. He had always loved this kind of atmosphere, but he wasn’t in the mood to have fun tonight, not when Y/N wasn’t talking to him, and Stefan could pop the ‘big question’ any minute.

Why did he even care though? It would save him so much trouble if she agreed to stay here? He would make it home faster on his own, and once he’d crossed the South’s border, he’d be safe. Willem had no authority in Theros and, therefore, had no right to arrest him. That would be the perfect picture, and yet, one big puzzle piece was still missing.

He looked at the girl -- the burden he’d been wanting to get rid of since they met outside his cell. Now given a chance, why did he hesitate? If he’d been so sure it was simply lust that drove him to kiss her, then how should he explain this -- the way his heart started racing and him forgetting to breathe whenever their eyes met?

He had felt something similar with Kenny, but definitely not the same, never as intense. And suddenly he feared that he might never get to feel it again if they ever parted.

“I’m getting an ale.” He quickly got up. “You two want some?”

“I’ll have one, please,” Stefan happily said.

“Is it good?” Y/N asked Stefan, her eyes went round, making him laugh.

“It is. Do you want to try? Bet you’d love it.”

“Oh, then I’ll have one as well!”

Harry scrunched up his nose as he looked at her. “Peach, you cannot drink.”

“You know what?” She smiled at Stefan and stood up instantly. “I’ll get it myself.”

As Y/N made her way towards the bar, Harry and Stefan exchanged looks with each other. Stefan was rather confused whereas Harry was frustrated. He combed his fingers through his hair and flopped back down onto his chair.

“You should go after her,” he told Stefan, not even looking at him. “You want to court her, right? The least you could do is keep an eye on her.”

“Right!” Stefan plastered a smile on his face and patted Harry on the back. “Thanks, brother. I’ll be right back.”

Harry was finally left alone at the table to regret the things he’d just said. He should’ve come with her, and now Stefan was going to have a chance to shoot his shot.

“Fuck, I don’t care,” he murmured and crossed his arms in front of his chest, pouting like a little boy.

“Hey, handsome.” As a shadow towered over him, he looked up and wasn’t too surprised to see a familiar face.

“Hey,” he said in an indifferent tone, thinking the girl would take it as a sign to leave him alone. But she didn’t. She pulled up a chair and sat down next to him, resting her chin on her knuckles as she studied his hardened expression.

“Where’s Stefan?” she asked.

“Don’t know,” he answered, sounding rather bored, but she wasn’t offended.

“When did you get back?”

He stayed quiet this time. Honestly, he didn’t even remember her name. He had only met her once when he was here the last time. Stefan had said she was the most attractive girl in the village and he must admit it was true. Still, he’d turned her down for he’d been loyal to Kenny back then. Now? He didn’t really know...

“I’m so sorry about your girl.”

This time, she’d got his full attention. He turned to see her arrogant smirk and released a slight laugh. “Did Stefan tell you?”

“He couldn’t help it,” she said in a seductive tone while circling the back of his hand with her finger. “I have my ways with men.”

“Not all men.”

“Wanna bet?”

He could. After all, he was single now. He could take her to the back, bend her over and fucked her good. He hadn’t been with anyone in so long, so a night with this girl didn’t sound like a bad idea. But after thinking for a second or two, he said, “how about we talk for a bit?”

“Talking isn’t my thing,” she said, “but whatever pleases you, love. We’ve got all night.”

She kissed him on the cheek, got up and told him she’d be back with some ales. This is good, he thought, I’m going to have a great night, and nothing can stop me from having fun. But then his eyes travelled across the room to where Stefan and Y/N were, and suddenly it didn’t feel as good anymore.

The girl returned with drinks for both of them. They talked about random things and he had to beat around the bush whenever she came close to asking him questions about Kenny or his family. He had never been comfortable talking about them to someone he barely knew. Y/N had been an exception. He didn’t understand why, but it was always different with her.

“Who was the girl that came here with you?”

“A friend,” he said, wanting to turn around to check on Y/N and Stefan, but the voice inside his head told him not to.

“She’s really pretty,” said the girl, who was slightly tipsy now. “Is Stefan courting her?”

“No. Does it look like it to you?”

“Well, yeah? Why are you so offended?” She laughed and poked his dimple with her finger. “Are you jealous, handsome?”

“Not.”

“You soooo are.”

“Whatever.” He snorted, rolling his eyes. “I’m not having a debate with a drunk lady.”

“I’m not drunk. She is drunk.”

“Huh?”

The girl gave a shrug and Harry snapped his head to where her finger was pointing at. Stefan and Y/N were laughing loudly with a bunch of middle-aged men. Her face was bright red and Harry had seen her blush too often to mistake her being drunk for her usual shyness.

“I fucking told him not to let her drink!” He slammed his hand on the table, making the girl flinch. He was sure she commented something on his reaction, but he didn’t hear it as his jaw dropped and his eyes popped out.

Y/N was listening to Stefan’s story when one of the men took advantage of her distraction and groped her breast. She instantly snatched his wrist, bending his arm backwards until he started shouting in pain.

“I’ll finish your ale then!” said the girl as Harry got up, but he couldn’t care to reply. He swiftly made his way to Y/N before something worse happened like he knew it would.

“Touch me again and I’d break your arm!”

“This little bitch!”

Y/N caught the man’s other wrist before he could slap her, and before anyone could react, she thrust her knee right into his crotch and he collapsed onto the floor, grunting while holding his balls. Another fat guy stepped up but Harry was fast enough to take his hunting knife and put it to his throat.

“You lay a finger on the lady and I’ll slaughter you and your friends like pigs, ya hear me?” he murmured into the man’s ear, pressing the blade harder until he begged him to stop.

“Ay!” shouted the big lady behind the counter, “no fighting in my house! Take it outside!”

“I’m sorry, Harry—”

“It’s okay, Stefan.” Harry sighed as he shoved the man out of the way. He was angry at Stefan for being careless but he knew it wasn’t entirely his fault.

“You stay here with your cousin,” he told Stefan. “I’ll take Peach back to your house.”

“What are you doing?” the princess cried out when Harry grabbed her hand and pulled her with him. “No! I’m having fun! Stop making me go! I don’t want—”

She let out a high-pitched scream when he picked her up and tossed her on his shoulder.

“Let. Me. Go!” She hit him with each word but he was unfazed.

“There’s nothing to see here, folks! Enjoy your ale!” he told everyone, carrying her on his shoulder and heading for the entrance.

Once they had left, the big lady, who was Stefan’s cousin, turned to him and said, “give them another month into marriage and they’ll eat each other alive.”

.

.

.

“What is wrong with you?!”

Y/N shoved Harry away as soon as he put her down on the bed. He sat down on the edge of it, eyebrows knitted together as he looked at her.

“What is wrong with you?” he asked. “You knew you couldn’t drink and still—”

“I was fine!”

“You caused a scene! We’re supposed to lay low!”

“A man touched me without my consent and it was my fault?!”

“No, it’s not,” he breathed, reaching out to touch her knee, but she turned her back to him. “Peach…”

“Leave me alone.”

“You know I didn’t mean that. That man clearly deserved it,” he said and placed his hand on the mattress right beside her. “I just...I just didn’t want you to get hurt. If anyone knew why we’re here—”

“I know, okay?” She slowly turned her head to look over her shoulder, holding his gaze. He didn’t know what he should expect her to say, but he was surprised when she told him, “I just wanted to feel like a normal person for once.”

And that was when it hit him. He was wrong. She hadn’t done those things to pay him back for stealing her first kiss. She just wanted to feel ‘normal’.

He wouldn’t understand what it was like to spend his childhood within high walls, but he knew it wasn’t pleasant. She had never got to do the things he and Stefan and the people in that alehouse had been doing their whole life. And now he felt like shit for thinking everything was about him.

He wanted to tell her there was no such thing called ‘normal’ in this world, and there was nothing wrong with her, but he stayed silent and gave a nod before moving his hand back to his knee.

“Can you get Stefan for me?” she asked.

He didn’t know why that question made him sad, but he managed to keep a straight face. “Stefan’s not coming home tonight. He’s staying with his cousin.”

“Oh…”

“I can stay here with you.”

“I don’t want you here,” she blurted, her forehead creased. “In fact, I don’t think I want to go back to Theros with you.”

“Peach—”

“I’ve thought about it. Either I stay here or I go alone. We can’t be around each other anymore.”

“You’re saying this because you’re drunk.”

“No, I’m saying this because you fucking used me!”

Harry’s mouth clamped shut as his eyes shifted to his lap. He already could have guessed that was how she’d been feeling since last night, but to hear her say it aloud really made him feel worse.

“You kissed me because you needed to get over another girl,” Y/N said, her voice was taut. “You stole my first kiss and called it a mistake, so you’re just as bad as the other men. Maybe Stefan is the same too. I don’t know him that well and I’m too afraid to find out.”

“Are you falling for him?” The question escaped Harry’s lips before he could hold it back. He looked up and saw her eyes widened at him.

“Why does it matter?” she asked. “So what if I am?”

“Don’t.”

“What?”

“Don’t fall for him...please.”

Harry pressed his lips together, taking a moment to rearrange his thoughts but they were all over the place, and if he opened his mouth, he might say something stupid again.

“Why? What’s wrong with Stefan?” This time, her voice was low and unhurried. She was cautious, which made him mad, for she should never be cautious around him.

“No, he’s a nice guy. There’s nothing wrong with him,” he finally uttered as his eyes fell to the floor.

Y/N shifted and tilted her head to look at his face. “Then why?”

“Because…” Harry breathed. He had no idea what was in the ale, but he couldn’t seem to stop blurting out everything that was on his mind. “Because I don’t want you to.”

As she stared at him with the biggest frown on her face, he guessed it wasn’t what she wanted to hear.

“You don’t want me, and you don’t want me to want someone else,” she said, her forehead puckered. “Why are you so selfish?”

“You’re drunk. We’ll talk when you’re sober.”

“I’m not drunk.”

“Yes, you are.”

“I’m not! Don’t believe me?”

Quickly, she got off the bed and picked up their swords from the table. He watched in confusion as she placed them on the floor to make a straight line and stood up, spread her arms and started walking on them.

“Can a drunk person do this?” she asked, walking back and forth about four times without losing her balance. “Watch. Can a drunk person do this?”

Harry let out a suppressed chuckled which stopped her in her tracks.

“Oh, you think this is funny?”

“Peach.”

“Stop it.” She shrugged her arm away as he attempted to grab her elbow. “I don’t like that name. You’re not allowed to call me that anymore.”

“All right. Would you prefer sweet Peach or grouchy Peach, because you could be both?”

She opened her mouth but was unable to utter a word as he closed the distance between them and cupped her face.

“If you don’t want to, don’t do it,” she warned him as he leaned in. He hesitated as if to think before running his thumb across her bottom lip.

“I want to,” he said. “Do you...do you want me to?”

She was blushing harder than before, not knowing what the right answer should be, but eventually, she gave in to temptation. She granted him permission with a nod, and he wasted no time to press his mouth against hers.

Their second kiss started off slow and became more eager as he ran his hands up her back and she had her fingers tightened in his hair. They moved backwards until he plopped back down on the edge of the bed. He held her hips as she straddled his waist, hands at the nape of his neck. Her body tensed when he put his tongue into her mouth, and he had to pull back and ask, “was that all right?”

She nodded, licking her lip. “Sorry...I’ve never—”

“It’s okay. You’re doing great.” He beamed and kissed her again.

It took a lot of courage for him to bring his hand between them and touch her breast. After what had happened tonight, he wasn’t sure if it was okay, but when she reacted with a moan, he went ahead and squeezed it gently, brushing his thumb over her nipple as it went hard under her poet shirt.

He was already sweating, as if there was a fire starting from the pit of his stomach and spreading across his entire body. He could blame it on all those months he’d been alone, but he was well aware that this was something he’d never felt before. When he touched Kenny like this for the first time, it had been sweet and tender, but this felt like all the best emotions converged at once and exploded like fireworks inside his chest.

“Harry…” Y/N tossed her head back as he started kissing her neck. Their skin was hot and slick. The fire painted the whole room red and orange, but he could see her whole face and her chest flush as if she’d spent a whole day in the sun.

When he moaned into her throat and bucked his hips, he didn’t even realise he was doing it. She had to place a hand on his chest to stop him.

“What’s wrong?” He freaked out, his eyelids fluttered as he brushed her hair out of her face. “Did I hurt you?”

She shook her head, her chest rising and falling against his as she sucked in a breath and pointed between them. It was only then that he noticed the bulge in his pants firmly pressing up against her centre.

“Fuck…” he cursed, resting his forehead on her chest. He could feel her body stiffen and knew this had freaked her out quite a bit. He was well aware that he was massive, and she had never experienced this with a man before.

“Does it hurt?” she asked.

He cleared his throat, trying not to laugh so she wouldn’t feel bad for her innocence.

“A little, but it’s a good thing.” She still seemed confused, so he elaborated, “it only gets like this because...because I...um...because I want...”

Normally he wasn’t afraid to talk dirty to a girl who was literally sitting on his dick, but this one had never kissed anyone beside him, and he didn’t want to scare her by being too straightforward.

“Because you want me?”

The way she said those words while batting her long lashes made his cock bloat and twitch in his pants. Fuck, he wanted her. He wanted her so bad. He already imagined tearing off her clothes and fucking into her, but he knew he couldn’t have her that way. She was a virgin and they couldn’t go further than this.

“I’m sorry, love,” he said, taking her hips and shifting her away from his cock. Both of them were still blushing and catching their breath. “We can stop. It’s okay.”

“What if I don’t want to stop?” She bit her bottom lip, staring attentively at his mouth. “What if...what if I want you, too?”

Harry was tongue-tied. He felt like he couldn’t move a single muscle in his body so he honestly didn’t know what to do next. He didn’t expect her to be so bold, and he assumed it was the ale that had turned her into this.

What the fuck did they put into that thing?!

“What are you doing?” He caught her hands as she reached for his belt.

“I want to make you feel good,” she said quietly. He was still in shock to hear her say that, but she didn’t wait for him to speak and went on, “I’ve never done this before but--but they taught me how so I want to try.”

“Who taught you?”

Seeing the surprised look on his face, she gave a lopsided grin and nibbled on her bottom lip. “The ladies in the castle.”

“Fuck, they teach women this stuff?” He held her arms as they both dissolved into laughter.

She arched her neck for him to mouth at her throat. Her fingers were in his hair, her eyes were closed but she kept on talking, “they said every lady must know how to please her man, but I’ve never taken those lessons seriously so I might be awful at it.”

‘Her man.’ The words made him shudder, in a good way, and he didn’t know how to feel about that.

“But what were you learning that stuff for?” he asked, disgusted by the first thought that popped up in his head, “don’t tell me you have to please that bastard Egon--”

“Eww, God, no!” She snorted, shaking her head fast. “For when I’m married. If my husband is happy, then I’m happy, right?”

“You don’t have to be married to be happy,” he said.

“It depends on who you’re marrying.” She smiled.

Harry said nothing else as he caressed her cheeks. He thought about what Stefan had said earlier in the stable and felt a lump in his throat as he imagined attending their wedding one day. It was unlikely that she would say yes, but he didn’t know for sure.

“What is it?” Her voice brought him back to reality.

“Nothing,” he said, bringing their foreheads together and meeting her lips. He kissed her harder with more passion as if he feared he could never do it again, and only stopped when she reached for his belt again.

She was disappointed when he pulled her hands away and brought them to his lips. He looked up and gave her a grin. “You have no idea how much I want you. But I can’t make you do this.”

“Can we still kiss though?” she asked shyly. “I like kissing you. It feels good.”

“I like kissing you, too.” He nudged her jaw with his nose and put his lips against her throat. “Does this feel good?”

“Hmm.” She urgently nodded. “Harry…I’m so wet.”

“Fuck.” He buried his face into her neck, one hand squeezing her arse, the other resting below her ear. “Say it again.”

“I’m so wet, Harry, please...”

“Why are you wet?”

“You know why,” she whimpered, holding his shoulders tighter.

Harry flipped them over to get on top while she was lying on her back. Before she could speak, he asked, “do you trust me?”

She answered with a nod and he pushed his lips to hers again. She put both hands on her chest as he removed her skirt and tugged down her underwear. “Tell me if it’s too much.”

When she nodded again, he kept his eyes steady on hers and lowered his lips to kiss the skin under her belly button. Her first instinct was to grab his hair as her stomach tightened and she chewed on the corner of her lip. He held one of her hands and waited until she finally loosened her grip on his hair to move further down, draping her knee over his shoulder.

He put one palm flat against her stomach and dragged it down, allowing his middle finger to graze across her slit slightly. She gasped, her eyes rolled back in pleasure. Harry watched her expression tighten as he slipped his middle finger into her and she gripped his hand, her other hand still in his hair. His fingers curled so he could push in deeper.

“How did you get this wet?” he breathed.

Y/N was panting, her lips sucked into her mouth and he smirked before sliding his tongue slowly against her, never breaking eye contact as he tasted her for the first time. She smelled so sweet, like everything he’d fantasized about and even more, and now that he’d had a taste, he didn’t know he could ever stop.

She fisted his hair tighter and breathed through an open mouth as he closed his lips around her clit and sucked before slipping in a second finger. He closed his eyes, letting himself get lost in his actions. He fucked her with his fingers while working his tongue enthusiastically, slurping up her wetness. She tilted her head and arched her back, calling out his name.

His mouth froze as she flexed around his fingers. He cursed against her clit, his warm breath tickling her wet core and nearly sending her over the edge. He knew she was close when she started squirming and bucking her hips against his face.

“Harry!”

Her thighs clamped around his head as she cried out, lifting her back off the mattress. She held fistfuls of his long locks while he rode it out with her, emptying her before pushing himself up between her legs and crashing his lips against hers. When she moaned against his tongue, he knew she could taste herself on his lips, and the thought had him going crazy.

“How are you feeling?” he asked with a tender smile.

“I’m so embarrassed.” She laughed and covered her face, but he quickly removed her hand so he could kiss the tip of her nose.

“Why are you embarrassed, love?”

“I was loud.”

The way her nose crinkled made his heart flutter.

“Well, I loved how loud you were.”

“Really?”

“Really,” he said, brushing his lips against hers until she started smiling again.

They lay face to face for a long moment, until the comfortable silence became overwhelmed and Y/N was the first to speak.

“Why did you come to Isolde?”

If another person had asked that question, Harry would’ve refused to answer, but since it was her, he spent a second thinking.

“My family was poor, very poor. My mother was sick, and we didn’t have enough money to get her a good doctor. I tried working as a blacksmith like my father, but it didn’t really help us, so I had to find a faster but riskier way to get money. It’s not something I’m proud of, but I’m good at it. I flirted with the ladies and stole their jewellery, fed the men’s egos for their shiny coins. I ended up getting a bad reputation back home so I had to leave Theros and go somewhere nobody knew who I was, where I could do what I do best. I wanted to return as a rich man and help my family.”

“That’s very sweet.” Y/N’s face lit up with a smile as she brushed his hair away from his eyes. “Don’t worry. With all the gold I’ve stolen, you’ll be the richest in your village when you get back.”

“Wow, look at us. Two sexy thieves,” he joked and they laughed together.

He really wanted to tell her he didn’t want her gold. She could keep everything she’d stolen once they’d arrived in Theros. He just wanted to take her home so she could reunite with her uncle, and maybe keep her around, if she let him.

He wasn’t sure about it. It was too soon to say anything, but all he knew was that he was happy at the moment, and he didn’t want it to be over just yet.

“What?” She lifted one eyebrow when his eyes bored into her.

“No, I’m just--” He snorted. “I’m just thinking of your face when you—”

“Stop it!” She cackled and swatted his arm, making him hiss and wince in pain.

“Are you okay?!” She hurriedly sat up as he did.

“It’s fine.”

“Let me see.”

“No,” Harry protested, but she’d already taken his hand and pulled up his sleeve. Her eyes nearly fell out of her head when she saw his swollen wound. And Harry knew there was nothing he could say now that would convince her he hadn’t got it from last night.

“Why didn’t you tell me?!”

“It’s nothing.”

“How could you say that?! Look at it!”

“I am. It’s fine.” He chuckled but his eyes stayed on her. He thought her reaction was funny and adorable at the same time, but he wasn’t going to say it as she might hit him again.

“What were you thinking?” Y/N grumbled. Harry said nothing as he pressed his mouth gently to her frown, trying to distract her but it didn’t work. “I was so fucking scared last night! You could have died! I knew at least you’d get hurt.”

“I thought it was heroic.” He popped his dimples, amused by how much it annoyed her. “Come on, Rain. Don’t be mad.”

“What did you call me?”

“Rain.” He gave a toothy grin. “You don’t like being called Peach, right?”

“Well...I changed my mind.” She crossed her arms and stuck up her nose, making him chuckle as he took her hand and kissed it once.

“Forgive me, Lady Peach.”

She rolled her eyes, smirking and scooting closer to take a better look at his wound.

“I wanted to ask if you were all right last night, but I was too proud to let you know I was worried,” she whispered and looked up into his eyes, “I thought you might not make it back and I was so scared.”

“I was scared too,” he admitted.

He guessed she might assume he was talking about being eaten by the wolves. But maybe it was for the best if she didn’t know he was scared of losing her.

.

.

.

When Y/N woke up the next morning, she was alone in bed. She wondered where Harry had gone, but then she heard his voice outside talking to someone and decided to go see who it was.

She stepped out into the sun, eyes squinted as she leaned against the door and saw him chatting with two girls outside the stable.

“Hey.”

“Stefan!” She flinched and turned around as Stefan gave a smile and apologised for scaring her.

“When did you get back?”

“Not so long before you woke up,” he said. “How are you feeling? Did you and Harry make up already?”

“Um...yeah…” The princess shyly tucked a strand behind her ear as she stuttered, “you could...you could say that.”

“Good. It felt weird that you two didn’t talk to each other,” Stefan said, but Y/N didn’t pay attention to reply.

“Who are they?” She furrowed her eyebrows, pointing to the girls Harry was talking to.

“Oh, those girls? They work for my cousin.”

“At the alehouse?”

“Yeah.” Stefan shrugged. “After Harry had left with you, they kept gushing about how ‘sexy’ he was when he threatened those men. I’m not surprised they came to see him first thing in the morning.”

“They both think he’s...sexy?” She tilted her head, pouting a little as she watched the three of them laugh together. It was obvious that those girls wanted Harry, and Y/N had never felt jealous until now.

“Harry gets that a lot from the ladies,” Stefan said. “He’s been with many women, but Kenny was the only one he’d ever loved. Poor Harry. He must be devastated.”

Y/N crossed her arms over her chest and grounded her jaw. “So...he’d never cared about the other girls he’d been with?”

“Of course not. But I’m sure they didn’t mind.” Stefan scoffed as he lifted his shoulders. “It’s probably different where you’re from, but it’s normal for most of us to lust after someone and not want to commit to that person. Harry can always separate romantic feelings from sexual pleasure, and Kenny was the only woman he’d slept with and had feelings for.”

“Oh...” Y/N muttered, feeling her heart gradually shrinking.

She used to think sex was something special between two people and only men like Egon would treat it as insignificant. Now that she knew most people were like that, it hurt more than she was willing to admit. She couldn’t risk falling for someone who might not ever feel the same. She had never tried, but she knew she couldn’t separate love from lust. With her life at risk, she didn’t want to deal with another heartbreak.

Nervously, she waited for the girls to kiss Harry goodbye to approach him. His smile grew twice as big the moment he saw her.

“Good morning!” he said happily. “Did you sleep well?”

“Yeah, did you?” she asked, and he nodded.

“Yeah. I woke up before sunrise but I didn’t want to wake ya.”

Y/N pressed her lips together as Harry took a deep breath. He waited for her to speak, but she didn’t, so he reached out to touch her hair, and she reacted quickly by stepping back, leaving him dumbfounded.

“Let’s talk about last night.”

His face fell instantly. “Oh, shit! I’m so sorry if--”

“No, no, don’t be.” She gave a timid smile. “I enjoyed it.”

Though he was smiling back, she could tell he was impatiently waiting for what came after, so she took a deep breath and went straight to the point. “I think we should both agree that it shouldn’t happen again.”

Harry blinked fast, he didn’t know what to say. It must have been as awkward for him as it was for her, so she was reluctant to go on.

“Yeah, it’s--” Y/N inhaled while fidgeting with her own fingers. “I know that people tend to separate romantic feelings from sexual feelings, but...I don’t think I can. And I--” She paused suddenly, looking up and meeting his worrying eyes. It was crazy how she could take some time to acknowledge how handsome he was, but she had to keep herself together and remember what was right for her. It was certainly not him.

“I don’t want to fall in love with you.”

Harry was taken aback, and so was Y/N herself. She didn’t think she could say it aloud, but now that she had, she didn’t regret it. She hid her trembling hands behind her back and continued, “this could get complicated if we took it any further, so maybe we should stay friends, because I really enjoy having you around.”

Harry pursed his lips as his forehead puckered. She didn’t know what was going through his mind right now, but the look he was giving her was so intense she could hear her heart beating in her ears.

“Okay,” he said at last, “let’s stay friends.”

He took it better than she’d expected. And for some reason, she was relieved and irritated at the same time.

Harry seemed to notice the way she kept chewing on her lip, so he joked, “did you mean you could fall in love with me?”

“Just take it as a compliment,” she said and gave his shoulder a nudge.

The corners of his mouth quirked up as he kept staring at her.

“What?” She chuckled.

“Can we still kiss?”

The question left her speechless, but she managed to keep her composure and cleared her throat. “No. But we can cuddle, like last night.”

“That works for me,” he said, flashing her a grin.

When silence had taken over, Y/N was so glad Stefan decided to interrupt. He came up to them with some flowers, and before Harry or Y/N could ask him what they were for, he gave them to her.

“I went to the woods this morning and got you these.”

“Oh my, these are beautiful!” Y/N sighed happily and clutched them with both hands. “Thank you, Stefan. I love them.”

Harry watched Y/N admire those flowers and felt his stomach tighten. Something didn’t feel right, especially when he saw how happy Stefan was with this little achievement. Although he’d agreed with her that they should only be friends, he hated to see Stefan showing her affection and her liking it.

Last night had been the happiest he’d been in a long time. And even though they had been tipsy and so unable to control themselves, he didn’t regret the things they had done. If they took it further, however, things might get complicated. He couldn’t do complicated. So this is for the best, he told himself.

But still, he couldn’t help but wonder if she remembered what he’d said about not wanting her to fall for Stefan. He assumed she didn’t, and it bothered him more than it should.

“Where are my flowers?” Harry jokingly asked Stefan. He hoped humour would cover up the fact that he was in a bad mood, and somehow it worked as Y/N took a flower and put it behind his ear.

“Here you go,” she said, smiling. “So pretty.”

The way she bit her lip and gently fixed his hair made his heart flutter and he didn’t even realise he was grinning like a fool. He watched her walk back to the house, thinking to himself, maybe this could work. Maybe they could be friends.

.

.

.

The wound on Lightning’s leg had healed and it was time for them to continue their journey to the South. They woke up at dawn the next day to prepare the horses and gather their things.

Stefan offered to take them to the next village, for he also had to go there to deliver wood and pick up a few other things. Y/N expected that they would spend the night at a friend’s house or at least in an inn, but Stefan told her straight away that they would stay in a brothel.

The princess had never thought one day she would have to visit a brothel. But consider the fact that she had lost her first kiss and let the same man who’d kissed her eat her out, anything could happen at this point.

“But is there no other option?” Y/N asked as she rode Thunder side by side with Harry.

Stefan rode his cart ahead of them as he turned his head and told the girl, “trust me, Willem’s men won’t be looking for you in a brothel.”

“Why?”

“Why would a maid go to a brothel?” Stefan scoffed.

“Peach would,” Harry joked and Y/N immediately kicked his leg as he broke into laughter.

They travelled for an entire day without stopping and managed to get there before sunset. They left their horses outside and followed Stefan into the two-storey house which looked decent on the outside, but dark and filthy on the inside.

Y/N walked close to Harry, hugging his arm and burying her nose into his coat. The foul smell of the place made her want to throw up, and she wondered how some men could spend every night at a place like this instead of home with their wives.

“How am I going to get laid if you keep holding me like this, Peach?” Harry joked, smirking as Y/N punched his shoulder and shoved him away. She knew a joke was just a joke, but the thought of him with one of those women, or anyone other women for that matter, made her skin crawl.

She walked faster to catch up with Stefan. He headed to the long counter where sat a big lady whose breasts were so large and clothes were so tight, Y/N wondered how she could even breathe. This woman must be the madam.

“Russo! Styles!”

“Wait, she knows you two?”

“Of course I know them, dear,” the madam told Y/N while sizing her up. “Are you one of my new girls?”

“She’s my friend. Her name is Rain,” Stefan said. “Rain, this is Leslie, the owner of the place.”

“Nice to meet you.” Y/N gave a small smile, but Leslie was too busy eyeing her up and down to return a smile.

“Oh, well. If you change your mind, Rain, we’d be glad to welcome you to our family,” Leslie said, making Harry snort and Y/N smacked him again.

“Is this your first time in a whorehouse, love?”

Y/N nodded, already blushing.

“Aww, look at that puppy dog face.” Leslie puckered up her thick lips and pressed her palms against her chest. “I like this girl. She’s so shy.”

“Not always,” Harry said, causing Y/N to shoot him a glare and he quickly locked his lips with an invisible key and tossed it over his shoulder.

“These boys used to come here all the time. They basically lived here for a while when they were fifteen, sixteen.” As Leslie proudly patted the men on the back, they both groaned and begged her to stop, but she didn’t. “Well, not here here. I used to own a brothel in Theros but I had to move away because of the war. It was bad for business. I’m telling ya, men would rather kill then pay to get fucked and I feel sorry for them.”

Leslie rolled her eyes and leaned forward, her breasts nearly spilling out of her tiny corset. “Thank God, my boy Russo still visits me once in a while. Styles, on the other hand, chose the boring life and stayed loyal to one girl. What was her name again? Candy?”

“Kenny.”

“Whatever.” She gave Stefan a wave. “Can you imagine? Sticking your dick in one hole for the rest of your life? Yuck.”

Seeing how frightened Y/N was, Harry stepped closer to her.

“Leslie is actually very nice,” he whispered into her ear while stroking her back.

But then Stefan spoke, “Harry and Kenny are not together anymore.”

“Stefan!” Harry cried out. “You need to stop telling everyone about my business!”

Despite Harry’s reaction, Leslie was overjoyed. She clapped her hands and shook her fists in excitement. “Perfect! There’s no heartbreak a threesome cannot solve! I’ll get you two best whores for tonight!”

“Actually, I--”

“Gerta! May!” Leslie shouted to the back and two beautiful women rushed out to meet their new potential customer.

“That’s very kind of you but I’m not here for this,” Harry said as the girls pulled him away from Y/N, running their hands all over his body.

Y/N freaked out when one of them pushed Harry onto a chair and straddled his waist as the other got down on her knees by his side to kiss his neck.

“Woah, woah, ladies!” he hissed when the girls removed his belt. The memories from two nights ago flashed before Y/N’s eyes and she turned away, fuming with jealousy.

“What about you two?” Leslie asked, switching her fingers back and forth between Y/N and Stefan. “I’m not sure if any of my girls is into ladies but--”

“No, no, no, we just want to rent two rooms for tonight,” Stefan said, giving Y/N a small smile as she seemed a bit terrified.

“No whore, just room?” Leslie asked.

“No whore, just room,” Stefan confirmed, laughing nervously.

“Well, we only have one room so--”

“We’ll take it,” Y/N said and snatched the key from Leslie’s hand before she could put it on the counter. “Thank you. And just to be clear, Harry is paying for those girls. We have nothing to do with that.”

“Oh...okay.” Leslie widened her eyes as she lifted her shoulders in a half shrug and got up from her chair. “Come on, sweets, I’ll show you the room.”

.

.

.

It was late, almost past midnight, and they still hadn’t heard from Harry.

“Rain, go to sleep,” Stefan said as he propped up on his elbow and found Y/N sitting on the bed, eyes fixed on the door.

The room was rather small and there was just enough space on the bed for one so he’d given that spot to her. She felt bad that he had to sleep on the floor while she got the bed and didn’t even want to use it. But it wasn’t her fault, it was Harry’s. It was all his fault for making her wait.

“What’s taking him so long?” she asked while fidgeting with the hem of her shirt.

Stefan lay back down, closing his eyes again. “Can’t you blame him though? He hadn’t slept with a woman in so long. Now he’s got two.”

“Well, I think he won’t spend the night with them,” Y/N said, but there was no response, and five seconds later she heard Stefan snoring softly.

She hugged her knees to her chest, still watching the door. Her eyelids felt heavier and heavier, and just before she was about to drift off, she heard footsteps ascending in the hallway.

That must be Harry, she thought and quickly climbed off the bed and lay down on the floor next to Stefan. She snuggled up to his side and pretended to sleep. Though she knew it was childish and stupid, and if Harry found out, she’d be so ashamed, she just had to know how he would react to her falling asleep with Stefan. She wanted him to be jealous, just like she had been.

She stilled as the handle shook gently and the door finally creaked open. Harry stepped in. She closed her eyes before he noticed that she was awake and heard the door shut and his footsteps stop right beside her.

She tried to steady her breathing, but her heart was pounding as she didn’t know what he was going to do. Surprisingly, Harry bent down and picked her up. She kept pretending to sleep as he carried her in his arms to the bed and gently laid her down on her side. She thought he would leave her there and sleep on the floor with Stefan. But then he lay down behind her and wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her to his chest.

“I know you’re awake,” he suddenly spoke.

Y/N froze at once. Though she couldn’t see his face, she knew he was smirking with his eyes closed. And dear God, she had never been more embarrassed.

She took a moment to calm down and finally broke her silence, “you smell like those girls. Did they let you use their perfume?”

Harry responded with a quiet laugh. Why was he laughing? Was it because she sounded bitter? Did he think she was stupid? A thousand questions popped up in her head in that one split second before he answered, “that’s why I need to cuddle you, so I could smell like you.”

She could feel a smile in his voice and she tried to keep her composure by biting her bottom lip.

“I didn’t sleep with them,” he added. “I was drinking with Leslie.”

“I don’t care.”

“Yeah, it’s not like you were waiting for me to come and cuddle you or anything.”

“I wasn’t!” Y/N’s mouth fell agape as Harry released a low chuckle.

“Whatever you say.” He sighed, holding her tighter. “Go to sleep, Peach.”

While his chest was rising and falling steadily against her back, Y/N could feel his heart beating in sync with her own. She bit her lip to hold back a grin and turned her head slightly to look at his face, their lips were just an inch apart. She almost betrayed her own words and asked him to kiss her again.

“Good night,” she murmured.

Harry peeked with one eye, his dimples popped as he saw her face. “Good night, love.”

.

.

.

In her dream that night, Y/N saw her and Harry sitting in front of the fireplace, surrounded by complete darkness, no ceiling or walls or even a floor. It looked like they were just floating, and yet she felt warm and safe with his arm around her shoulders and him reassuring her that it would be all right.

When he kissed her, it felt so real, as if it was real. She didn’t know it was a dream until she couldn’t feel his lips nor his touch anymore.

“Harry?” she asked, pulling back to look at his face as it suddenly twisted, fear darkened his eyes.

“Wake up, Peach,” he said, his voice echoing. “Wake up! They’ve found us.”

“Who?”

“They’ve found us. They’re here.”

Her eyes shot open, and the first things she saw were the dark grey ceiling and Harry’s face looking the same as it had been in her dream.

“They’re here, Peach. We have to leave.”

“Who’s here?” she asked when he pulled her up and hurriedly gathered their things.

“Willem’s men. They’re searching every room for us.”

Y/N blanched at her father’s name and suddenly someone banged on the door. She and Harry froze, holding their breath as the banging got louder and more violent.

“Open the door! Prince Egon’s order!”

#tctm series #harry styles smut #harry styles x reader #harry styles fanfic #princess!y/n #conman!harry #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fanfics #harry styles fanfictio #harry styles fanfictions #harry styles imagine #harry styles imagines #harry styles wr #harry styles writing #harry styles series #harry styles fluff #harry styles angst

[psychewithwings]

I AM SAITAMA TRAIN THINGY ANON AND I JUST FOUND THE POST TY I LOVED IT— you write him so well i loved it sm sm sm. you up for more saitama sometime? :0 i forgot if you’re taking actual requests i’m gonna go check that

THEY ARE OPEN YES

consider: reader gets hurt fighting a villain (or smth) and saitama brings them back to his apartment. but!! he only has one bed >:)!! so they get the bed and he sleeps on the floor lmao. just sorta fluff :D? fluff for saitama? maybe they confess in the morning?? :D??? or just fluff headcanons (i didn’t wanna just ask for fluff headcanons because that’s pretty vague and shit :’D) whatever you’re up for!! ty for being a sick ass writer

Oh my honey bunny!!!! You are so very sweet AH! This legit made my dayyyy!

Im in love with these Saitama requests bc I’m in love with him, he does not get enough credit omggggg. (Also I’m so sorry this took me a hot sec to write, this request just deserved so much care because it was so genuinely sweet, I hope you like baby xxxx) 

You were badly beaten up, bruised, and just all around embarrassed. You’d fought so hard, struggling to keep the toothy sewer monster away from the surrounding houses. The icy rain was coming down hard, making it difficult to see.  It had flung you down on the ground, taking all the air from your body. Then Saitama knocks it down with a single punch... Yeah, you felt great. You were staring at him now, half with gratitude and half with the realization that you weren’t as strong as you thought you were. He smiled at you, when you blacked out. 

You woke up, in an unfamiliar space. Your head was throbbing intensely. You tried to sit up and you groaned and clutched the side of your head, feeling how matted your hair was. “Here,” you watched through half lidded eyes as Saitama rose and grabbed you a glass of water. He dropped a tablet into it and you watched it fizz, the bubbles scattering around the water. He sat next to you, and even though your hand was on the glass, he didn’t let go of  it. You took two long drinks, then handed the glass back to him. “You know, if you weren’t a hero who just saved my life, that would look pretty bad,” you said gesturing to the fizzing tablet. Saitama’s eyes got wide, “oh no, it’s- it’s just- dammit! It’s just something for head aches...” he said finally. You chuckled softly, you’d never seen him so flustered before.

 Saitama was sitting on the floor watching tv. It was driving you crazy, he’d left without a single scratch and you’d passed out. Having to be saved infuriated you, but you didn’t want to be ungrateful to all his help.  “My headache is feeling better, thanks.” Saitama smiled at you from his spot on the floor. He turned on the television and scanned the news. There was something happening a few cities over, it seemed pretty big and no heroes were there to help. Saitama rose, “I’ll be right back,” he mumbled as he left the room. 

You couldn’t be mad at him for leaving you. It wasn’t his job to take care of you... The front door opened and shut and your heart sunk a bit. Was Saitama your friend? Sort of?  He never spoke to you very much and his few word responses made it difficult to continue a conversation. But he had always given you a soft smile. It was so confusing. 

The front door opened again and Saitama returned with a plastic bag, written on the side was THANK YOU with a smiley face. “Soup?” he offered. You laughed, scrunching your brow... this man was hard to read for being one so straight forward. “I figured you left to go fight whatever that was in City X... not bring me soup.” He sat and began to take the containers from the bag. “Oh, I did,” that’s Saitama for you I guess, “but then I saw the delivery guy at the door and figured I shouldn’t let you eat alone, so I let someone else to take care of it.” He handed you a container of soup and a plastic spoon. Saitama flipped the television back on, “let’s see how they're doing huh?” 

“BREAKING NEWS, IT’S HEADED FOR THE POWER LINES IN CITY-” That was when all the lights went out. You could here him sigh in the darkness. “You don’t have a flashlight do you?” he asked. You softly replied, “no.” He said nothing but you heard him get up off the floor and stumble somewhere, there was rustling, then clinking, then a click, then a soft light. It was one of those home made, wine bottle oil lamps. He placed the light in the middle of the floor. It was only at that moment you realized you must be in Saitama’s bed. It was simply a mattress on the floor. It was however incredibly comfortable. The comforter was soft and crinkly. He only had one pillow but it was fluffy. “Do you want to play cards?” he offered, presenting a fresh deck. You nodded and he began to deal. He had beaten you at Go Fish 3 times before you suggested another game. Slap Jack was probably the wrong choice considering there was now a hole in his floor, but you’d both gotten a good laugh out of it and simply allowed the mattress to rest above the hole. The laughter from the Slap Jack event sparked the first real conversation you two had ever had. You found out that Saitama was funnier than you thought. The laughter evolved into more meaningful discussions about childhood and lost loves, and finally evolved into nothing at all, like what animals must think when humans change their clothes all the time... With all the talking you were starting to feel worse, weaker, which you resented. You pushed through, because more than anything, you were enjoying talking to him, getting to know who he really was other than this super powerful hero. 

It was getting late and you went from feeling bad to feeling like death. However, you wouldn’t be telling Saitama that. Rest, that’s all you needed, yes.  “You take the bed, I’ll sleep here,” he whispered. “What? No, I should go home, it’s fine.” He gave you a serious and semi annoyed expression, “do you think you could get yourself home?” Even though the tablet had eased the pain, it didn’t stop the chills, or the joint aches, or the room from spinning. “No...” you admitted reluctantly. “That’s what I thought.” He retrieved a towel and his red cape and made them into a pillow and a blanket. You’d both been laying in silence when you started to feel like you were freezing. You were underneath all the blankets, shivering. “Y/n?” he asked to your covered shape, “are you okay?” You shifted, which sent chills through your body. You heard him move towards you and he placed his hand on your forehead. “You’re sick, fever probably,” he moved and he placed the towel and his cape over you. He moved back towards the floor but you weakly caught his hand. “Do-do you think you could lay with me?” You rolled to look at him and his eyes were big, soft, watching you carefully, with concern. He climbed onto the small mattress beside you and gently laid his arm over your waist, pulling you into him. The warmth from his body, radiating through your back, and the light rise and fall of his breath lured you to sleep. 

You awoke with the sun pouring through Saitama’s blinds. You were all sweaty, your fever must have broke in the night but Saitama was still holding onto you. You stirred, trying to give him space but he pulled you closer, “are you feeling any better?” he asked. “Yes, much,” you turned now to face him, “thank you.” Then he did something completely unexpected, he pressed his lips to your forehead then ran his hand down your cheek, “of course.” As soon as he did it, his eyes became wide, “I-I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t have-” You took his hand and kissed each of his fingers. There wasn’t anything to say. Some things were best left unspoken. He simply closed his eyes and pressed his forehead to yours.

#saitama #one punch man #fluff #fluffy #marshmallow fluff