#“do the vibes seem off” “the vibes have been off for ten thousand years” is my assessment of the tlt fandom
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the vibes are off at the mithraeum
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#“do the vibes seem off” “the vibes have been off for ten thousand years” is my assessment of the tlt fandom#in this post-nona pre-alecto wasteland#the blocked tomb#the locked tomb#tlt x twitter#tlt twitter au#tlt#ianthe tridentarius#john gaius#mercymorn the first#augustine the first
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[TNG] Worf - All Along
♫ Thousand Years - Christina Perri
Klingon culture has long since been recognised as one of the most violent cultures to the outside. In every aspect, it seemed some form of shouting or fighting was at the heart of everything they did. To outsiders, perhaps it seemed that way. There was always a softer side to Klingons, however, one not many people saw in some.
On away missions, it was handy to have a Klingon with you, and Worf was the perfect one to go along. He was knowledgeable and cautious, and always willing to protect should danger occur. However, he could fight too, far better than anyone you had ever seen. His skill in battle and in leadership made for a great away team leader.
His leadership and skill was also the reason you started having feelings for him, and that made you very uncertain. You were a human, and he was a Klingon. Interspecies romance was not uncommon, particularly now in the universe where infinite diversity in infinite combination was at the heart of most of the galaxy. But, you weren't sure of how Worf would react. He hadn't shown any interest in anyone, let alone yourself, and it left you wondering just how awkward these feeling were about to make the rest of your engineering career.
"Lieutenant Y/N? Are you alright?" A voice snapped you out of your daydream in Ten Forward, your drink long since watered down as the ice had melted. It was your friend, Data, and you shook your head at him.
"Yes, of course, thank you Data. Please, have a seat."
"Are you sure? You do not seem it. You have been staring at Lieutenant Commander Worf for five minutes. I am sure he will start becoming uncomfortable soon."
Your put your head in your hands and sighed. You hadn't even noticed you were looking right at his table the entire time you were zoned out. Laughing to yourself, you sipped your watery drink.
"Ahh, I didn't even know, I guess I'm hung up on a few things, Data. I can trust you, can't I?"
"Absolutely." He nodded and seated himself, sitting curt as always, ready to listen.
"Somethings changed between Worf and I these past couple of weeks. We started off merely away team companions, and it was fine that way, but now I feel like I want to know him better, even court him, as it were. But, I wouldn't even know where to start with that. I mean, just last week, he was reciting a poem he wrote to me before we said goodnight after a shift."
"Perhaps you should try throwing a vase at him, Y/N."
Your eyebrows shot up, utter confusion on your face.
"I.. I- huh?"
"Allow me to explain. When Lieutenant Commander Worf was reciting his poetry to you, he was expressing an interest in courting you. When Klingons find someone of which they would like to court or marry, one recites poetry whilst the other expresses interest in a violent manner, such as scratching, fighting or throwing things at them. This way, the intentions are clear for both parties."
You stared at Data, dumbfounded. "That is in no way, shape or form, clear. But, that is interesting to know, thank you."
Data stood, nodding. "Should you need me, I will be in the science bay. Good luck with that, Y/N."
As he left, you were left with much to ponder, and your eyes drifted over to where Worf was sat, and as you did so, his eyes met yours too. You smiled and nodded, and he nodded all the same. You noticed him leaving, and quickly jumped up to do the same.
"Hello, Worf, uh.. would you care to meet me tonight in my quarters? I have some music I wish to show you, I think you would be interested. It's okay if not, I-"
"I will be there, your company sounds desirable. Until then, Lieutenant." And with that, he hastily made his way back to work.
The night rolled round and you were in your quarters, pacing. Nerves weren't your sort of vibe, and being a Starfleet officer meant they were pushed back on the job. But tonight, you were making up for all of that by experiencing every bit of nerves you could at the exact same time. The door chimed and your heart jumped, but you opened the door nonetheless.
"Good evening, Worf, thank you for coming." Your voice was shaky, the uncertainty jumping right out. Worf wasn't fazed, and strolled in, awaiting the music.
"Good evening, Y/N, thank you for inviting me for the music display, I am looking forward to it."
A solitary voice in your head comes out. 'Ahh, fuck it.'
As Worf turns to find a seat, you pick up the vase closest to you, one that stood on your tableside, and launched it in his direction, and it smashed right by his feet. As the security officer turned, you jumped at him and started to fight him. Worf swiftly changed the playing field and switched you around, and you dodged his attacks with surprising ease. The fight grew more tense as the two of you made it to your feet, his batleth out and you defending with a stick. Nimble and small, you manage to swoop round and trick him every now and then, and when he thought he had you, your legs took his out and you knelt down over him, sitting on his stomach almost, with your phaser at his neck.
"Y/N... that was incredible." Worf was slightly out of breath, but did still sound impressed.
"Likewise, I hope Data was right about this," you started to look nervous, as you helped Worf up from the ground, a hand he graciously accepted.
"Right about the vase?"
"Yeah, he-" you stopped. He knew? "How do you know about the vase?"
"I told him to tell you about a vase. I had a feeling you were interested in me, as you humans might say, and so I knew that if you were, you would go to him for advice because you are very good friends. The vase was rather specific, so I realised the moment you threw that at me tonight you had an interest in me."
"That was a very intelligent move, Worf. How did you know?" you inquired, puzzle on your face. You couldn't believe this was happening, no more than you could believe that Data had been playing cupid and wingman for Worf.
"I can sense it, Y/N. You look at me differently, and when you are around me, you act different, too. It is not hard to tell."
You raised an eyebrow. "Am I that obious?"
Worf sighed. "No, Councellor Troi told me."
You laughed aloud, shaking your head. "And here I was, thinking you knew all along."
"I knew I was interested in you," he started, taking your hand and sitting you down with him on your chair. "But I did not think you would be interested in me."
"Why wouldn't I be? You're sure of yourself, strong, and you're great company. Gathering feelings for you was easy, dealing with them was the hard part, and the outcome has been the best."
You shot Worf a a smile, and he gave you one back, to the best of Klingon ability. He brought your hand to his head, pressing his lips against your hand.
"Will you have me, Y/N?"
"I've wanted you all along."
#star trek#star trek x reader#star trek imagine#worf#worf x reader#worf imagine#star trek tng#tng#the next generation#x reader#imagine
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I wish to do some lyctor sexy party demography, for fun and literally no profit, so here we go.
Okay, so when augustine talks about 'the shindigs they used to pull off back in the day, when they dared to congregate' -- also referred to as 'sexy parties' in other places, which I'm taking to be vaguely synonymous with 'orgies' half the time b/c... come on -- most of that seems to be after they became lyctors. this means that at that point all the cavaliers are already dead, and there would be a few more notable absences:
g1deon: legendarily unamorous, canonically will excuse himself from the orgy to go do leg day instead. acespec king, I feel is implied
if I understand the sequence of events right, anastasia was out of the picture before prime sexy party era
Which in turn means that as far as I can figure the core sexy party crew seems to have been down to:
john (though he clearly never participated to the point of *ahem* emission before mercy and augustine broke out their full duplicitous slut game lmao, still leaves lots of room for possibility here between necromancy and human imagination)
cyrus of the many many nudes. he gave those to people for their birthdays whether they had asked for them or no. def sexy party material.
ulysses, who also seems to have been The sexy party instigator; is referred to as 'that madman (affectionate)' several times so he sounds like he was the life and soul of the party, even though I'm still a bit unclear on how he did get a soul back in the first place, or whether it was ever like. his own soul.
augustine 'I never met a problem a threesome won't fix' quinque. naturally.
cassiopeia. finding out it was her wife's soul she ate adds... a lot of stuff to this one, but she was canonically around and a lightweight haha
cytherea -- considering she'd spent most of her life camped out on death's doorstep, might have been her first chance to really get into sexy party stuff. little sister vibes on this girl from how the others talk about her, but that means very little in this psychosexual horror show of a found family across ten thousand years
mercymorn 'I sincerely wish augustine would stop trying to solve every problem with a threesome but *aggrieved sigh* I'm in fuck you I hope you choke on a dick and die >:(' the first. hated the sexy parties, but is still implied to have attended them. one of her immediate reasons for brushing off harrow and ianthe is that they aren't as pretty as anastasia and cyrus respectively, though, so maybe the saint of joy doth protest too much lol
anyway let it not be said I didn't do my part to try to figure out which of the horrible old war criminals were hooking up the most
#OG lyctor crew#the locked tomb#nona the ninth#nona the ninth spoilers#ntn spoilers#nona spoilers#the locked tomb spoilers#mercymorn the first#augustine the first#john gaius#cytherea the first#cassiopeia the first#cyrus the first#ulysses the first#space here under the rest of the tags for my cursed little headcanon that john mostly likes to watch his lyctors... get along lol#if i have to think this you have to be exposed to it too I refuse to suffer alone#he's run out of lyctors to watch so now he's mid life crisis-ing it up with sarpedon & co in even more ethically dubious ways
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It's just occurred to me that I've never been in a dying fandom before while I was at the peak of hyperfixating on said fandom. And nothing has prepared me for that peculiar kind of grief it brings.
Because I still remember the height of OFMD two years ago. I remember all of the internet going crazy about it. There was a good 3-4 months when everyone who's even remotely chronically online in geek or queer spaces had heard of it. And the thing is, geek and queer spaces don't always intersect this much. Well they do to a degree, but I mean, I first heard about OFMD on Reddit. It's a lot more of a geek space than it is a queer one. The OFMD subreddit has a... pretty different vibe than OFMD fandom on Twitter or Tumblr or AO3. And yet, still, it seemed like for a few short, glorious months, OFMD has been The Thing on the internet, even on Reddit. Despite being so relatively tiny and niche and decidedly Not Mainstream™. I still remember that Comic Con with Con and Nathan in August 2022. I remember exactly where I was when I watched it. I'd blocked off time to watch it live. I'd actually bought a fucking ticket instead of just waiting for someone to upload it to YouTube, which is what I was used to doing with comic cons that featured David Tennant or some of my other favourite actors (well it did help that they let us by digital tickets for streamed panels this time, but still). I still remember how insanely excited I was, sitting down for that panel like it was this major Event. Like Eurovision or smth. And then several other comic cons. It was all so fresh. The fanbase was rabid (in the best way possible). And the cast was so in for it. The fan fiction had been flowing with abandon. The era of Hell or High Water. I'd never been part of an ongoing fic with such a massive readership, either. It was one of the cult fics in the fandom. The sheer excitement of getting a notification of a new chapter and making an event out of reading it, savoring it until the weekend, even. And then discussing it on Discord. That was what being part of a fandom was supposed to feel like.
And now it's dying. Slowly, but it is. It's never going to get a barrage of headlines again. It's never going to pull tens of thousands of Tumblr reblogs again. Sure, we're still getting bts (bless Samba Schute). There's still some engagement, more than most other fandoms would have retained by now, and that's incredible in its own right. But it's still a shadow of its former self. And it's never going to be the same again.
And it's fine. That's just how it is. Nothing lasts forever. People always move on, and it's not a bad thing. That's just life. I know I'm going to move on some day, too. Just not quite yet. I'm not ready yet. And it feels heartbreaking. Because the fandom's life was cut short. We should have had one more glorious cycle with S3. But we didn't. And that's the worst part. It wouldn't have been so hard to move on if we'd actually got closure. And now we never will. OFMD will never really have concluded, it will just slowly trickle out and fade away. A whimper, not a bang. And that's what's killing me.
#my eulogy to ofmd I guess#this probably won't even get any reactions but still#had to say it#felt therapeutic to admit it#ofmd#our flag means death
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15 lines of dialogue
Rules: Share 15 or fewer lines of dialogue from an OC, ideally lines that capture the character/personality/vibe of the OC. Bonus points for just using the dialogue without other details about the scene, but you're free to include those as well!
tagged! by @dragonologist-phd like ten thousand years ago! (i didn't forget or deliberately shun you i promise, i'm just very very forgetful and tired all the time ♡) and more recently by @solas-backpack-mug for the same thing! i've been thinking of re-editing and possibly continuing Anthem Infinitum, my PoE1 novelization starring Best Girl and the Gods' Favorite Punching Bag Axa Mala, so honestly this prompt couldn't have come at a better time. here's her Greatest Hits:
all of these quotes are from Anthem Infinitum, because my other fics don't feature her as prominently (if at all). i may have goofed up some of the formatting somewhere between copy and paste. [...] indicates excised surrounding narrative text.
1. "I lost my academic standing, my career, my… everything. So now I'm here. Because it was this or killing myself, and with my luck that would probably just piss off Berath."
2. "No need for thanks. Couldn't leave another kith outnumbered like that. Wasn't right." [...] "Could have done without the extremely blatant goading, though, friend."
3. "Excellent. I was worried I looked like a weird asshole for a minute there."
4. "…I don't know if that's the best or the worst mixed metaphor I've ever heard."
5. “Knowledge seeks freedom, we say in Ixamitl, and the freer I can make it, the better.”
6. "Ha! Since becoming a Watcher with her own castle who offers to help everyone she meets solve all their problems, I do seem to be quite popular, yes," [...] "…I jest, of course. In any case, the friends I do make, I tend to keep. And cherish."
7. "Never tell me how to feel, Kana, never again. Or by the Beast, I'll show you fucking hostile."
8. "Smells like a kraken took a shit out here and died," [...]
9. "I may be forgiving, but the Doemenels aren't. He sticks around too much longer, they're gonna 'stick' him."
10. "'Trust is a double-edged sword, gift and burden both to friends and allies.' My father taught me that one."
11. "Can I please just go put some gods damned pants on," [...]
12. "Don't go around pinning all your trust on any one person or institution completely, Aloth. Not even me. You'll regret it, trust me."
13. "I don't need to be coddled, Aloth," [...] "What I need is to quit moping and get off my ass so I can actually do something that at least makes me feel like I still have a little control over my life."
14. "I wonder– will it piss off the gods, do you think, ruining two priests' days in a row like that?"
15. "You may be content to issue Hollowborn until your shriveled womb drops out of your skirts," [...] "but I will not permit you to stand between these people and the truth!"
and That's Our Axa! ™️
thus far, her alternate dimension counterpart/ex-fiance Vaargys has exactly one (1) written line of dialogue, so we will be skipping him. i plan on featuring him prominently in flashbacks during Axa's time in the White March, which will probably be the next six or seven chapters of Anthem Infinitum, so look forward to it! ♡
#pillars of eternity#watcher axa#thanks for tag ♡#i'm particularly proud of the wordplay in line no. 9#boy axa's kind of a potty mouth huh?
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Lion Son of the Forest
Iiii've been putting off talking about this one because I didn't like it. I think there's a lot that's good about it, but, the reason I brought up some of my issues with Master of the Maelstrom when they didn't bug me that much then, was that they were a lot more present here and did bother me in Son of the Forest.
I think Brooks is a superb short story writer, but that he's got issues with adapting the short story approach in terms of plot structure to novels, so the novels really read as long short stories.
Anyways. As always, it's just my take.
apparently sometimes you can Just Say No To Chaos For Ten Thousand Years
and not be especially strong willed
gw have consistency or draw 20
this guy doesn't seem to be getting tempted at all
meanwhile his boyfriend is a chaos sorcerer
like the other guy, zabriel, it makes sense, he hasn't been doing anything w.r.t. the warp he's just been running around as a fugitive for 400 years so it makes sense
also on a side note REALLY not a fan of how it switches tense and person between POV scenes
me: there should be more renegades who don't turn to chaos
this book: has that
me: no not like this
i…i don't know why i'm not liking it
am i just salty because it's not one of my favourite factions?
maybe i'm just in a bad mood
….i think i've put my finger on what bothers me about Brooks' writing
when he's not a bad writer! i think he's more technically proficient than mcneill or abnett tbh, in a lot of ways
but it's…he's writing tie in books for the game
that's what these are primarily
that's the perspective they're written from
which is why they don't have thematic consistency with the other writers
maybe not quite the right term
but it's like, and i kind of hate using this as an example, but it's like trying to mesh together Sins of the Wreckers and Barber's writing (Transformers, I will elaborate on this for anyone who is curious)
…okay enough meta, I am now understanding why people say Lion is autistic-coded
i will also say this, Lion is definitely more of, hm, how to put it
more morally upright than Guilliman
like this should be everything i want, it's got forgiveness, renegades, protecting the little people as a first priority…why is it leaving me cold?
i think also because it's standing in stark contrast to the themes of the Ahriman trilogy, or Black Legion
it just feels unfair?
the whole thing is predicated on there being no good choices
but then here it's like "yeah actually these guys went and somehow became unambiguous good guys offscreen problem with chaos what problem with chaos their main issue is being hunted by their loyalist brothers"
despite them also starting out from the base state as the "final solution" legion
i will say i do very much vibe with this in theory
okay so like, i will be fair
part of the reason most of these guys managed to avoid chaos was because they time travelled to the future
and skipped most of the intervening years
im finally getting some resonance here
okay that's a hook
like the whole situation with the Fallen is "stuck as traitors due to tragic misunderstanding"
which i mean, that's astraeos
but these guy get lucky enough to land in places offscreen where they can become people's protectors?
also again, i don't think it really follows from what i saw of the dark angels in 30k but im not a dark angels expert lol and I've only seen a bit of them
it just doesn't feel earned
also lion's character arc
happened offscreen
i think i'm probably going to have to reread this book in a different mood and see how i feel then
lion has gifted kid syndrome
as i suspect all the primarchs do
note from future bluejay, as I read this like a month before AE: lol, though I meant it a different way for Perturabo
none of them ever had to practice anything so finding something he can't do immediately is
very troublesome to deal with lol
-_-
ahriman: my existence feels pointless and the only thing that keeps me going is the hope that i will be able to make things right
zabriel: have you tried meditating it worked for me
this is who Lion is! and now he's changed to this offscreen:
one heck of a nap
also we have our second forehead kiss
the subtextual relationship here is probably the most blatant space marine romance i've seen so far
like even more so than loken/mersadie
oh hey actual acknowledgement that how the imperium treats mutants make them super easily turn to chaos
apparently lion can also no-sell magic attacks
somehow
lol
like the whole tragedy of Guilliman in Dark Imperium is that he is unable to recognize that he's repeating the past and hasn't learned but this kind of seems to be going in the direction of "it's fine as long as he's pointed in the right direction"?
lion is having a two paragraph struggle about "is the emperor actually a god"
guilliman divinity wrestling speedrun
like
that sounds contrary to what chaos energies actually do
but okay
mmm, still not a fan of mercy kills especially in this context which is redemption equals death
wait
wait
lion is being worshipped as a god
even if he's not a fan
lion: better me than the alternative
maybe that's what turned him into a good guy
okay this is kind of cool
lion is fighting all his brothers
i think structurally this should have been at the beginning, though
but the book isn't quite over so maybe im wrong
expansion: fighting all his brothers and they're poking into his weak spots
>kurze appears out of the shadows
>says something cutting
>refuses to elaborate
>leaves
okay this is fun
like okay i do get that it's not exactly super realistic to expect lion to go "the emperor's entire methodology was completely flawed" but also given the tone of this whole thing i kind of expected it if we were to have any kind of good resolution here
lion: have any of you tried not being doomed by the narrative?
Not a bad way to end it though!
I'll come back to this after I've read Unremembered Empire, maybe, and re-evaluate.
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i also don't know if this is an unpopular opinion, but: I felt like the "mundane" scenes in ntn were actually some of the most interesting and thematically relevant parts of the whole. the way the sections about the new rho refugees are paired with john telling his story as a series of "necessary evils" was especially compelling to me -- it feels like all of the consequences of his/the empire's power are finally being revealed, and one of the worst consequences is that kids are still being traumatized by war and displacement in the same ways they were on pre-apocalypse earth. i feel like that's why new rho had to feel so "familiar" and "modern-day" compared to the fantasy vibes of the nine houses. like, until ntn we had no clear picture of what the rest of the empire looks like, or even what war(s) the cohort is involved in. but then when you find out, it hits you that for the average subject of the empire, there's no "heroic" interpretation of anything necros and cavs train to do -- they're nothing but parts of the machine that's constantly destroying people's lives. and this pov is presented as just as important as that of the main characters! idk, it's a jarring shift and the pacing is pretty off-putting, but it worked for me (thematically and emotionally).
another thought: when harrow and mercy were off killing planets, there was no indication that humans lived on any of them, iirc, but in ntn it's revealed that lyctors have forced large numbers of people off of their home planets. so were john & co. lying to the new lyctors about that, or is it just considered normal/justified in-universe and not worth mentioning? in any case, harrow seemed really disconnected from what killing a planet means (in htn), and i feel like that could end up being a big deal when we get back to her perspective. especially given that she's finally interacting with alecto
I love this ask, thank you. I think a lot about this post about John and Kevin, two kids playing with dolls ten thousand years and a galaxy apart. Humanity is fundamentally the same; there's love and there's bad everywhere. Both John (duh) and BoE ("necromancy is a disease you released" don't get that).
On John's revenge: the thing is, the Cohort isn't killing people. Like, they definitely don't mind killing people, but it's not their primary mission by far. John could literally kill millions in a heartbeat if his objective was extermination. He could have sent the Lyctors to wipe out entire planets generations earlier. Instead, he's using the Cohort and the resources of the Houses to drive the population of the occupied planets from place to place, over and over. He's dooming the descendants of those who left earth "on dollar store support" to a perpetual hell as climate refugees. Like Augustine says, it's purely symbolic retribution.
(IMO, this quest has an end point and we would have been in the home stretch no matter what; this is more of a verge into theoryland, but I think he does have a plan and a time limit, and he's playing capricious deity biding his time. After that, it's reboot, and maybe (?) actually letting go. Something something forgiveness not so hard nor anger long. This time will be the time we get it right.)
On Harrow & co killing planet: I think HtN actually lays the difference out pretty cleary! They were killing all planets on the path of Varun (so he couldn't kill them first and absorb them). When a Lyctor kills a planet, it's immediate. The Cohort does it to make it easier for necromancers to use thanergy; we don't know the specifics but I'm pretty sure it's fucked up (since John, of all people, says that the way Lyctors do it is "kinder"). Anyway, dead planets can no longer support native lifeforms, but iirc the process takes a long time to complete. Ianthe says that New Rho was "settled" 700 years earlier; what I'm assuming happened is that all planets in a given corner of space are "flipped" within a very short timeframe, remain viable for life for a few generations, and then probably become inhospitable for native lifeform all around the same time and everyone needs to be evacuated. I THINK they can be resettled after, but like, the entire biosphere is fucked.
#Anonymous#ntn#tlt#tlt thoughts#ejg#me every time i have a john emotion: TERRIBLE GUY (affectionate)
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Demon! Shin gives off Sukuna vibes
It's interesting you picked up on that because er... someone might have been rewatching and rereading Jujutsu Kaisen lately to do a character study of a certain thousand year old curse for future potential projects.
Now this was after chapter 2 was basically completely written so the two aren't related. However, as I was telling @akumacaron literally the other day, when I write a character, I have usually have a sense of their voice in my head (not as weird as it sounds I promise) and while working on my planning notes for chapter 3, I started to get a sense of Sukuna's voice sneaking in and I was like you're not supposed to be here.
But yeah outwardly Sukuna and Shin do have some big similarities, namely the joy they seem to get out of violence and some fairly impressive egos. However there are some big differences as well, namely Shin has something to prove and some of his behaviour is compensating for his own insecurities, while for Sukuna this isn't the case at all. I also think it's worth noting that Sukuna is a much better strategist and planner and is far less inclined to make stupid decisions than Shin.
Case in point that fight with Gojo in episode 2, where Yuji seems to suppress Sukuna after ten seconds but Sukuna later reveals in episode 6 that partly worked because he wanted to switch too. We're not given a reason for him wanting to switch, but if I had to interpret it, I'd say it's because he realised that with only one finger's worth of power, he couldn't beat Gojo and chose to wait and take stock of his options. Shin on the other hand would not have backed down (and would probably have died).
So yeah there definitely are some surface similarities and in The Demon Prince I really wanted to lean into Shin's love of violence to make him seem as awful as possible which is probably why he seems more similar to Sukuna than usual.
I will say however that if I'd written The Demon Prince with Sukuna rather than Shin, there is no way in a million years I'd have let the reader win.
#I have definitely been having a lot of Sukuna thoughts lately... don't judge me#but as I was again saying to akumacaron he has four arms#four!!!#Shin is currently very unhappy with me I think#X'D#ask#but yeah Sukuna is a really interesting character to me because in the translation of the fanbook#it says Sukuna doesn't care enough about anything other than himself to specifically dislike anything#and like... that's such a cool concept for a character#not hating things not because you're trying to be a good person but because you literally don't care#I wanna write him so bad#actually I think the problem is I want to snap him in half and shake him like a glowstick#metaphorically speaking of course#I do want to write about him as a calamity but also I want to write him getting slowly domesticated#sorry these tags are so long like I said I have been having a lot of Sukuna thoughts recently
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I'm really disappointed with the depp v heard verdict. I feel that this is a huge step back for women :(
I agree. Regardless of what actually happened in this situation (and I don't think we'll ever really know what happened, given all the media attention and spin that's been put on it), this outcome is a major blow to female victims of abuse and to the #metoo movement in general. I think this is going to be a verdict that feeds the narrative that women are falsely accusing men of abuse and that pushes more men into misogynistic, far-right politics. And I think it's going to make female victims of popular, powerful, well-resourced men even more afraid to speak up because they know that the playing field is inherently uneven. The Daily Wire reportedly spent tens of thousands of dollars promoting misleading news about the Johnny Depp and Amber Heard trial on social media- the court of public opinion was intentionally turned against her. And as a result, the amount of absolute vitriol that Amber Heard has faced because she "gives off bad vibes" and "seems insincere" is way beyond anything I've ever seen directed at a male abuser, even ones where the case against them is cut and dry.
Besides which, the basis for this verdict is concerning. Regardless of whether or not you believe that Heard abused Depp, or whether they abused one another, or whether Depp abused her, the three claims she made in that op-ed seem (to me) to be verifiably true:
“I spoke up against sexual violence — and faced our culture’s wrath. That has to change.”
“Two years ago, I became a public figure representing domestic abuse, and I felt the full force of our culture’s wrath for women who speak out.”
“I had the rare vantage point of seeing, in real time, how institutions protect men accused of abuse.”
Like, yeah. She absolutely did speak up about sexual violence, became a public figure known for speaking up about domestic abuse, faced our culture's wrath over it, and saw how powerful abusers are protected by institutions. Even if she's totally lying about the circumstances, those claims are still true- and from the evidence presented in the trial, it's seems obvious to me that Depp was at least abusive in his language, if not in his actions. Plus, in the US, in order to win a defamation case, the person being accused of defamation must 1. know that their statements are false and 2. make the statements with the intention of hurting the person the statements are about. So not only do those claims she made need to be false, but they need to have been made with the express intention of damaging Johnny Depp's life or career.
It's kind of wild to me that Depp was even allowed to use those statements as grounds for a defamation lawsuit in the first place, since they didn't actually name him. It's even more wild that the jury believed that the primary reason she made these statements were to harm Depp, instead of, I don't know... wanting to protect victims of sexual violence and domestic abuse? Or even just wanting to gain a larger spotlight and accelerate her career- to become a "darling of the #metoo movement", as she was accused of by Depp's lawyers? If those statements were explicitly meant to damage Depp's reputation, wouldn't she have at least said his name?
I want to be clear that I don't think Heard is innocent here. I think it's likely that she and Depp had an incredibly toxic and abusive relationship where both of them were at times the aggressor and the victim. But the idea that a powerful, popular male celebrity can win a defamation case over demonstrably true statements that don't even mention him, just because he is more popular and has more resources on his side... that doesn't sit well with me. It's especially troubling to me because Depp already lost a similar defamation suit in the UK, where it's actually easier to win a defamation case than it is in the US. This verdict also sets a bad precedent for the future because it validates the legal strategy of suing for defamation in order to sidestep allegations of assault- Marilyn Manson is currently using a similar tactic against Evan Rachel Wood. And it sets a precedent for the unpopularity, lack of respectability, or lack of perceived earnestness on the part of the victim to be valid evidence to rule against them. I don't for a second think that this verdict was made based on evidence. I think it was made based on the fact that the jury really felt like Amber Heard just kind of sucks.
And the fact that this trial could become a public spectacle without any regard for the humanity of the individuals who were actually involved in this case... that doesn't sit well with me either, regardless of what either of them did. Public opinion should not sway the decisions of the court, which I think it did here. Public court cases should not be spectated as if they're a WWE fight or the latest season of a reality TV show, which absolutely happened in this case. People shouldn't be lining up around the corner all night just to get a chance to watch the trial in person. People especially shouldn't make money off of creating "content" about high-profile legal trials. Heard and Depp are real people with real lives and real emotions. Their fame doesn't protect them from the incredible emotional toll that having such a publicized, discussed trial has on people. And the callous ignoring of that that we saw throughout this trial is really upsetting.
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Vorticity 5 (4K) from Mike Olbinski on Vimeo.
Support me on Patreon: patreon.com/mikeolbinski
Buy Prints: gallery.mikeolbinski.com/
Merch: ilovebighaboobs.com
Music By David A Molina via The Musicbed: fm.pxf.io/LXmrm0
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This series started off back in 2016 and it's hard to believe it's now the fifth film. Time sure flies when you are on the road chasing! Each film seems to have its own character, own style or just a vibe that resonates throughout. Not sure how to explain that or if it makes sense, but it's the feeling I get when I go back to watch them on occasion.
Vorticity 5 took two years to film. Tens of thousands of miles across the central United States, from Montana to the Texas/Mexico border. A few hundred thousand shutter clicks. Loads of McDonalds, Subway and Allsups. The most epic, cheap motels. And countless, stunning storms.
This is the first time for any movie of mine where I have tornadoes AND haboobs make appearances. The haboob (dust storm) happened in May of 2022 in southwest Kansas. It was amazing and unexpected. Of all the clips that make up this film, I'm the most proud of that one. It was like my world of chasing in Arizona finally collided with the universe of supercells and tornadoes on the plains.
I hope you enjoy this film. The colors, the storms, the lightning, the twisters and the dust. It's everything I love, everything I am continually awestruck by no matter how long I do this.
Thank you to my workshop guests, commercial clients and friends for helping make this possible. To my Patreon supporters for loving my work and being a part of making it happen.
Thanks to Nat Geo, Canon and Keith Ladzinski for trusting me with the project we filmed together this past spring. I was honored and stoked at everything we saw.
Thanks to one of my best friends Brett Wright on his support and help as always.
It's been a tough year in our family, but we're coming through. I know being away this spring at one point for three and a half weeks because of tours and a Nat Geo/Canon project...it was hard. Incredibly challenging. To not be home, to not be there to help, was brutal. Thank you to Jina for being my partner and the best mom on the planet. We're always better together than apart.
As always, I strive for the best when I make these films. I'm incredibly proud of this one. My confidence in my own forecasting has continued to grow the last two years and I'm thoroughly thrilled with the storms I was able to photograph. I work relentlessly at positioning, timing and capturing. Knowing when to bail on a storm, when to jump on another, and when to take risks. A few chases in this movie were days I took a chance on secondary targets and ended up seeing tornadoes. There were also days I chose the wrong storm. It's part of chasing. And I'm learning to better weather those ups and downs (pun intended).
I hope you enjoy this film! The soundtrack is fantastic, the work of David A. Molina and his Dream Man soundtrack over on The Musicbed. I used portions of three songs to create one long track and I'm thrilled with the outcome.
The footage was photographed entirely on Canon 5DSRs and various Canon lenses. Edited in Lightroom/LR Timelapse, rendered in After Effects and finished in Premiere Pro.
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the previews of nona the ninth have started a full on brainworm rave within my cranium by just like... laser focusing in on my mercymorn & augustine feels. and since I have several of their main scenes bookmarked on my audio book app (I am normal), I started going over some of them again and like... wow they’re fucking me up from their very first scene together.
what really stood out to me this time is that augustine goes up to hold the eulogy for cytherea specifically to lessen john’s pain; in response to god’s grief augustine takes on the task/responsibility of easing it as he doesn’t for either mercy’s or his own. while mercy talks he mostly just listens, respectfully, even (for the first and last time don’t worry lol). I think he probably did care about cytherea in herself too, as much as his motheaten hollowed-out heart allows for at this point (he seems to be quite upset by someone messing around with her body, even aside from thinking it’s mercy doing it), but when you read how the scene goes down augustine only takes an active part in response to john’s distress. he rests his hand on john’s shoulder in comfort and he gets up ‘like it hurts’ to say the words for cytherea. this pattern they apparently set up from the very beginning where mercy confronts john with the harsh truths he doesn’t want to acknowledge -- “There they go, John“, “She said, ‘We had the choice to stop’” -- and augustine smoothes things over in the wake of it, removes discomforts; still does the board meetings he hates for him, as it were.
like. holy shit. imagine having eldest daughter trauma (gender neutral) with god himself for ten thousand years. “Come, swear your loyalty, my son—my brother—beloved—Lyctor—saint.” no boundaries buddy you can only be something in relation to me!!! ‘he could have gone anywhere, but he stuck with me’. what a mess! what an absolute mess, especially knowing it’s been like that right from the beginning. he gave john (and john’s dreams -- his empire) everything: his life, his time, his loyalty, his brother, and john took it. john took it all, including mercy at the end, like she was just another... thing no one would miss. what a brilliant dark mirror of what gideon thinks she wants harrow to do to her but which a) harrow has the soul and sense not to do or want and b) would doom them both if it actually happened. the subtexual/implicit mirrors of the process of lyctorhood just aaaaallll over this empire john has built around him, even & especially with those closest to him. NO normal vibes on this haunted fucking space station I’m going to create an interpersonal dynamic that is so incredibly toxic and insidious it takes you thousands of years to figure out something’s very very off and by then it’s waaaaay too late, we’ve all got rivers of blood on our hands by now and no clean water left anywhere
(also “Ten thousand years, and I never heard her say an unkind word, except when it was very funny. She loved us unguardedly, all of us, which showed both her patience and her enormous capacity.”
the ‘my bones will rest easy next to your bones’ speech deservedly gets a lot of recognition but I’m always struck by the dry mundane loveliness of that description, the resigned rotted fondness. and he immediately undercuts it by kind of dunking on loveday too which is soooo... *tirls hair around my finger* ahaha nooo stop you’re such a shitty human being you’ll make me completely obsessed with you ;) )
augustine will be like... *turns up to not be the worst person in the room only because john and mercy are also in said room and they’ve got a pretty level playing field going now after all these years, has a moment where after a whole book of a sort of glib mean-spirited ennui he suddenly says something so hauntingly beautiful and profound you get dizzy, goes back to being the worst person in the room again like nothing ever happened* and then you just have to live with ‘Bury me next to you in that unmarked grave, Joy’ forevermore.
augustine and mercy praying only for their own cessation at the end and not even getting that. their best friend and dad and spouse and boss and king and god... is god. and they couldn’t even get that unmarked grave together. I just. hello darkness my old friend etc.
tl;dr: someone on the internet had to be an augustine stan by sheer law of averages and I am devastated again and again to find that it is me. I am that person.
#the locked tomb#the locked tomb spoilers#nona the ninth spoilers#harrow the ninth#augustine the first#mercymorn the first#john gaius#please understand that I am unhinged about this#seeing the john prologue and being like 'hm. have I misjudged him?'#and then looking alllllllll around him for how he affects those he 'loves' and going 'no. no probably not' lmao#I cannot explain to you the strange surge of joy I got just seeing mercy's dialogue in the preview. you could feel the... herness of it all#just from that#god why did I have to get attached to the horrible old war criminals there's not going to be anything good for anyone here fhksjdas
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My thoughts on Pokemon Scarlet (and Violet)
So I just beat the main story of Scarlet the other day, and I think I’ll weigh in on it all. Obviously, spoilers below, so proceed with caution.
Right of the bat, the performance and graphics need to be addressed as the elephants in the room. I personally found that the performance was only really bad in specific areas, like that one bamboo forest area. The graphics varied from “meh” in some areas to completely hideous in others, with camera clipping and lighting flickering being very common, though ultimately these didn’t impact my enjoyment of the game too heavily.
Difficulty wise, I can say that it drops off pretty quickly, with it only becoming a challenge during boss battles, like with gym leaders, rivals, the elite four, etc. The lack of the ability to change your battle style to “set” along with most trainers and gym leaders having no more than three pokemon really doesn’t do much to help this. The Team Star bosses were some of the most difficult battles in my experience.
The world itself has some good bones to it, but sometimes it feels empty, especially in the towns, the one place you think shouldn’t be empty. The lack of interiors to buildings really hurts the game, as having the ability to explore every nook and cranny of the towns and cities in previous titles really made them special, and talking to every NPC as well. In SV, this is all pushed to the side, with many shops having only GUIs pop up once you enter the door, and almost all non-shop or plot important buildings being non-enterable. The most horrible example is the 5 skyscrapers in the electric type gym’s city. All are modeled, referenced in npc dialogue, and yet they don’t do anything other than to add something to the landscape.
The the new pokemon designs are some of the strongest ones I’ve seen in years. I adore the regional variants as well as the new pokemon (Clodsire, Lokix, and Maushold being some of my favorites.), though the starters I am 50/50 on.
The designs for significant NPCs like the rivals, teachers, and gym leaders were all great, and the designs for non-significant npcs (like the various trainer classes) were also pretty good. I do like that they had some variations within the trainer classes in terms of hair color, skin tone, etc. Also there are more body types represented. Particularly a lot of muscular ones (I will not elaborate on how this makes me feel)
Now for the story (MAJOR SPOILERS BELOW)
The story itself seemed to start out fairly average for a pokemon title, but it quickly ramped up. The Path of Titans and Starfall Street arcs definitely gave this vibe off right away. Arven’s desire to make his Mabosstiff feel better again was really sweet, and seeing the motivations and drama behind the origins of team star and its bosses definitely made me sympathize with them. I quickly speculated the Cassiopeia was Penny, and by the time it was formally revealed in the plot, it was less of a “AHAH I KNEW IT! >:D” response and more of a “Oh.... I knew it... ;-;” one. Plus Penny turned out to be a literal cybercriminal who stole tens of thousands of dollars worth of league points from the pokemon league, which is kinda based ngl.
The main storyline following Korraidon and later Area Zero is what I consider to be the strongest story pokemon has told in years, especially in the final parts. Finding out why Professor Sada left Arven alone for all those years, the true nature and goals behind her research, and learning more about Arven, Nemona, and Penny whilst travelling through an extremely surreal area with an eerie soundtrack definitely struck me. but nothing could prepare me for that finale.
It turns out that Sada succeeding in making her time machine, but is now dead, she had thrown herself in front of Korraidon to protect it from another more aggressive one she had brought through the machine from the past. The Sada we were communicating with was actually an AI, a literal android. The pokemon that had been brought through the portal would innevitably ruin the ecosystem if they made it out onto the surface, but the original Sada insisted that she would make it work, to create a paradise. The AI even recognized that her ideas were flawed, but was programmed to prevent the machine from being shut down. Resulting in a battle between her and the player (with one of the most amazing battle songs that Pokemon has ever had), along with a second battle where only Korraidon had the ability to fight (leading it to break free of its fear and return to its battle form). only to realize that AI Sada is one of the failsafes for the machine, it would not deactivate with her still there. So after saying her goodbyes to the gang as well as telling Arven that she is proud of him, she goes through the machine, to the past (something that Sada originally desired), and being that she was no longer present, the machine was able to shut down.
If that doesn’t sound like it belongs in a Pokemon game, I wouldn’t blame you for thinking that, but I feel that it is one of the most emotional and somewhat dark stories pokemon has told, and I like that.
Now that spoilers are out of the way, I want to discuss the music briefly. Toby Fox seems to be becoming a regular part of Game Freak’s music team and I hope that it continues to be that way, his influence within much of the game’s soundtrack is obvious, especially the final battle against AI Sada. I look forward to seeing any future work he will do in possible SV DLC and future Pokemon titles.
My final rating is probably a 7 out of 10. The story, designs, and music were insanely good, but the lackluster graphics, absence of even the most basic difficulty options (like set battle style, level scaling, exp share, etc.), and the various performance issues and graphical bugs slightly impacted my experience negatively. Hopefully updates and patches will solve the bugs and performance issues, but I don’t have high hopes for the graphics or difficulty improving until the next titles.
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𝗵𝗮𝗽𝗽𝘆 𝗹𝗶𝘁𝘁𝗹𝗲 𝗽𝗶𝗹𝗹 || dark!alex kerner x reader
𝘀𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆 ◦ alex has been waiting so long for you to figure out he's the guy you should be with, but you just see him as your best friend. he's tired of being a virgin, and he's tired of hoping that someday you'll wake up and realise you're meant to be together— if he can't wake you up, at least he can put you to sleep.
𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗱 𝗰𝗼𝘂𝗻𝘁 ◦ 6.7k
𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 ◦ smut (noncon, somnophilia, creampie), drugging, obsession, "nice guy"/incel vibes, a bit of possessiveness, very slight degradation, male virginity loss, overall just alex being super unsettling and awful lmao
“I’m gonna run to the washroom, watch my drink?” you requested casually. Alex nodded quickly, heart starting to beat a bit faster as he watched you weave your way through the crowded bar, leaning back a bit to make sure you were out of sight for good.
He took a few glances back and forth at the people around to make sure no eyes were on him, leaning in closer to the bar to try to conceal what he was doing— reaching into his inner jacket pocket and fishing for what he’d bought just a few days ago, waiting for this moment. He was absolutely terrified that someone would catch him— that you would catch him— but he was willing to risk it in exchange for such an incredible reward.
After struggling for a second due to his hands shaking slightly, he found the plastic baggie and discreetly slipped it out, not even looking at it as he opened it close to his chest; he figured if he stared straight ahead it would be less suspicious.
He managed to get the bag open and lean forward just enough to dump the contents into your drink as it rested on the bar, looking around absent-mindedly to remain nonchalant— except that when he leaned back to see if the powder had dissolved easily, he found that he’d missed the glass entirely and dumped the light blue substance right onto the bar.
“Scheiße!” he frantically cursed under his breath as he whipped his head around to make sure no one had seen, trying to decide how to recover from this. Thinking quickly, he grabbed the glass and held it up to the edge of the bar, brushing the powder with his hand across the smooth surface and right over the slope into your drink; it hit the alcohol and started to dissolve quickly as he used his finger to push in the excess on the wooden bar before brushing the rest away with his jacket sleeve. He held the glass up to his face to look at the liquid closely, still seeing some remnants of the powder and trying to swirl the drink a bit to encourage it to fade away: if you saw something by the time you got back, he’d have to start all over again.
“When I said ‘watch my drink,’ I didn’t mean it that literally,” you giggled, and he jumped, not having realized you had returned. Considering your casual attitude and your hands eagerly reaching for the glass, you must not have seen anything leading up to this moment— and thank heavens for that.
He watched a little too intently as you took the drink from his hand and took a sip, waiting to see if you had any reaction, but you set it down without saying anything. “Thanks,” you broke the silence after swallowing, “god knows this place is probably full of creeps.”
“Yeah, no kidding,” he agreed awkwardly. There was one benefit to being so deep in the friendzone: you trusted him. Right now, that and some pharmaceutical support were all he had going for him.
He wrung his hands nervously as he hoped that the second would come through for him. The guy he bought this stuff from said it was guaranteed to work, but Alex didn’t necessarily trust the word of a drug dealer selling daterape drugs. Not that he thought the label of “daterape” was very fair— if he could get you on a date, he wouldn’t have to do stuff like this in the first place! But after years of being your best friend, your partner in crime, your confidante, and the constant shoulder to cry on while a carousel of abusive assholes treated you like shit and kicked you to the curb, you still didn’t get the fucking picture. So no, this wasn’t a date; it was just two friends getting drinks, and one friend finally getting what he deserved from the other.
He took a swig of his own drink to try to calm his nerves; nursing the neck of a bottle of beer made him realize he got lucky that you ordered something served in a glass, since getting powder down a bottle would’ve been a pain.
Quickly the conversation returned to the mundane: your latest break-up, his week at work, your favorite bands, his favorite movies. He really did enjoy being your friend, all things considered, he just needed more. And as the night continued without much sign of the pill kicking in— even as you finished your drink— he worried he wouldn't get it.
But then, finally, he noticed the subtle signs: you were blinking a bit more often, and for longer. You seemed to be breathing a bit slower, staring off into space. "Hey, you with me?" he prompted, waving his hand in front of your face to get your attention. "Sorry, my story was boring—"
"No, it's not that, I'm sorry," you shook your head.
"Then what's up?" he asked, adding faux concern to his tone.
“I just…" you sighed and started over again. "Let’s head out soon, I’m getting ready to turn in,” you decided.
“It’s only ten!” Alex pointed out with a laugh.
“Fuck, really? I thought it was later,” you frowned.
“Who knew you were such a lightweight?” he teased, pushing you on the shoulder and getting a playful shove back— but he could feel that you were a little weak, and he saw you almost falter in your balance. “Hey, you don’t look so good, let’s go outside for some fresh air.”
You nodded and took his hand, letting him guide you through the crowd and out the back door.
The overwhelming noise that had been present inside was muffled in the damp alleyway, just the distant roar of a thousand conversations and the heavy bass of the music left now. He watched you take a deep breath, closing your eyes. "You good?" he prompted.
"Yeah," you decided, but your voice sounded a little heavy. "Let's walk to the train station…"
He nodded and walked beside you, but you hardly made it a few steps before losing your balance. “Woah!” he laughed as you stumbled, thankfully catching you just in time, and tried not to get too caught up in how amazing it felt to hold you in his arms. “I think you’ve had a little too much to drink…”
“Alex,” you mumbled as you started to go limp, clearly fighting to keep your eyes open (and losing).
“I’m gonna take you home, okay?” he offered as you started to fade out.
He kept that promise; he just took you to his home instead of your own.
It was a bit of a struggle to drag an unconscious body back to his apartment without arousing suspicion, but thankfully it was only a couple blocks and with his your arm slung over his shoulders it was pretty easy for any passersby (of which there were very few at this hour) to assume it was just a chivalrous boyfriend helping his date after one too many drinks.
The hardest part was actually getting his keys and unlocking his door without dropping you. Once you were both inside, though, he grunted slightly as he slung you over his shoulder and carried you to the bedroom, laying you down on the bed and looking down at you as he caught his breath.
He was embarrassingly eager; he was already rock hard just from seeing you like this, laying on his bed. It’s not that he got off on you being passed out, but from the feeling that he could do whatever he wanted to you— and the knowledge that he was going to.
Finally, after all this time of being just your friend, he would get what he’d been dreaming of from the beginning.
He was slow and patient, for once, as he sat down beside you on the bed, trailing his fingers over your face, brushing your hair out of the way tenderly. You looked so beautiful this way, peaceful in a way he was almost jealous of; he closed his eyes as he leaned down and kissed you softly, moving his lips even though yours were slack and still.
Past the taste of alcohol, there was something distinctly unique to you, and he took in a deep breath as he sought more of it, adjusting himself until he was on top of you... just having you beneath him was such a rush.
He licked over your lips, even nibbled on them before holding your jaw so he could open your mouth wider and taste inside of it. “Baby,” he whispered to you, heart swelling at the chance to finally call you something that friends don’t call each other— only lovers. “Baby,” he said again, mumbled into the kiss, “you’re so beautiful…”
He precariously balanced on one arm while using the other to feel all over your body through your clothes— and even under them, for a moment, as his hand awkwardly snaked up your shirt and squeezed your tits through your bra.
Suddenly he pulled back with a new desperation, sitting up and breaking the kiss as he started to undress you. “Let’s get you out of these clothes,” he cooed at you quietly, starting to lift your shirt to expose a bit of your hips and stomach.
It was pretty difficult to push your shirt up, since your weight was holding the back of it down, and so he had to awkwardly lift your limp upper body to finally pull the fabric aside before he laid you back down and carefully— gently, with reverence— exposed your bra which itself he pulled down with much less care.
“Oh, god,” he groaned as he got an eyeful, and then a handful, of your tits. “Fuck, wanted to touch you for so long…”
You were so warm, in fact you were hot to the touch, and he hoped his hands weren’t too cold for you… but then again, you couldn’t feel any of it, could you? Did you even care?
For cold hands or not, your nipples started to get harder and he smiled to himself. “You’re sensitive here, just like I imagined. I’m gonna suck on them,” he promised as he started to lean down, pushing them together a bit to make them easier to reach. With a hum he wrapped his lips around one bud and closed his eyes, swirling his tongue and moaning at the taste of your skin. Already his hips were rocking forward into the air just a bit, his cock throbbing and eager to be inside you. But he couldn’t stop doing this to deal with that, couldn’t stop suckling on your perfect tits, going back and forth and massaging them both as he let his tongue explore you.
“God, you’re so fucking perfect,” he groaned against your skin, “you’ve got such perfect tits… you like being sucked here, don’t you? I bet your pussy’s getting so wet.”
As his cock flexed in his pants again, he found the strength to let go so he could move on to better things.
“Let’s find out,” he decided as he sat up and moved down your body to start opening your jeans.
If he thought your shirt was awkward to remove, your jeans were a whole other story; he had to fiddle with the button and fly for quite a while since his hands were starting to shake from the adrenaline rush of it all, and then it took several hard yanks to get the tight denim down your legs. He considered just getting them down enough to do his business and be on with it, but decided it would be better to see all of you— and so he stood up off the bed for a moment, though it felt a bit awkward physically with his cock doing its best try to bust right out of his trousers, and pulled the jeans off over your feet which he also relieved of their socks.
“Aw, you even have pretty feet,” he cooed as he cradled one in his hand briefly before climbing back up over you— after all he’d seen them before when you wore sandals and while he’d always found it a bit titillating when you wore them with your toenails painted in bright colours, they were absolutely nowhere near the main event tonight.
His hands ran over your legs, admiring the smoothness of your skin as he carefully held and lifted each one, moving them out further to spread your legs. Again, they were heavier than he expected as dead weight, and the softness of the bed meant that they sort of rolled back a bit so he had to move them more than he expected at first, but it was worth it to have you spread out beneath him like this with only your panties and rolled up shirt to cover you.
“I can just… pull these aside…” he mumbled as he hooked a finger into the fabric of your panties, revealing your cunt— and god, just the sight of it nearly pushed him over the edge right then and there. What a waste it would’ve been to come this far and just end up coming in his pants at the sight of you, so it was a good thing he held it off just barely. “Mein Gott, you have such a beautiful pussy,” he sighed. “It smells good… I wanna taste it. I’ve never tasted a pussy before…”
Carefully, he leaned in and gave an experimental lick to your folds, moaning softly at the taste. He wasn’t sure what he was expecting but he liked it more than he thought he would, going in again to get a more thorough taste. That said, as soon as he started to push his tongue into you, he knew he needed to feel inside you with something much more capable of appreciating every detail of you. He breathed heavily as he quickly brought his fingers up to your entrance, pushing in one but adding a second right away once he felt the warm perfection of your channel. This he’d done before— fingering, that is— and it had been rather lackluster so he hadn’t realised how much he would enjoy it when it was you; you were so much warmer, and wetter, and tighter… his fingers curled slightly to press against your walls, his attempt to feel every detail of your body, and he moaned as he sucked on your clit while he pumped his fingers.
One more flex of his cock against the confines of his trousers made one thing very clear: now, or never.
“Fuck,” he groaned beneath his breath as he sat up quickly, pulling his fingers out of you to use two hands to fumble over his belt and jeans, “need to be inside you— m’gonna fuck you baby, you want it? Yeah, you wanna be fucked, don’t you?”
You were, of course, still and silent… but your pussy was wet, you obviously wanted him.
He shouldn’t have rushed it quite so much but the moment he pulled his cock out, he found himself leaning forward and hovering over you again, swiping the head through your folds to coat himself in your wetness. As soon as he felt your entrance, he pushed all the way inside.
“Fuck!” he moaned loudly at the overwhelming feeling of you— so hot he thought he might burn up and he wouldn’t even mind it— already bucking his hips as he thrusted quickly. Lost in the feeling, he threw his head back for a moment and blindly searched with his hand until he found a breast to grab onto. “Oh my god, you feel so good, baby…”
He didn’t have much freedom to move his legs since he’d only pushed his pants down just enough to get inside you, but he found a way to make it work anyways, just from pure desperation. After a moment, he looked down at your sleeping face, tossing around slightly as his thrusts rocked your unconscious body, and you looked so angelic that he just had to lean down to kiss you again. So he did, and he did so hungrily, passionately, moans echoing into your mouth, as he already felt himself getting closer and closer to the edge.
“Taking me so good,” he praised roughly, “feels like you were made for me… you’re fucking tight, too, how am I supposed to pull out when you’re this tight? Oh fuck, I have to come inside you— I can’t pull out, you feel too good, and you’re not awake to yell at me anyways…”
Truth be told, he had no plan for when you woke up tomorrow, sore and leaking his come. He’d never thought that far ahead, not even when he was buying the sedative for your drink. All he could think about was this moment, this exact place that he knew he was meant to be: inside you.
“Gonna fill you with it,” he promised with a grunt as he kissed his way across your cheek to the crook of your neck where he buried his face as he thrusted faster. “O-oh god, I’m close, I’m so fucking close, just— just like that, baby— fuck!”
He may have caught a little glimpse of heaven as he came inside you, each pulse of his orgasm running straight down to the base of his cock and making his balls tighten so hard that it would’ve probably been painful were it not for the euphoria superseding everything. He gave you a few more weak thrusts, not pulling out very far since he couldn’t manage being anything but buried completely inside you, before the waves subsided and he collapsed on top of you.
“You’re so amazing, baby, Mein Gott,” he breathed as he kissed all over your face, “look how fast you made me come, you’re fucking perfect.”
He let himself rest for a little while, content to just stay inside you for as long as he could stand it, before sitting back up again and very carefully pulling himself out of you.
That first one only took the edge off; now that he was thinking somewhat clearly again, he could take the time to do this right— he carefully pulled your panties down your legs, tossing them aside along with your shirt and bra once he’d figured out how to get them off somehow.
He really savored you this time: kissed you all over, talked softly to you about everything he couldn’t wait to do to your pliant body, ran his hands over anywhere he could reach. He even played with your clit, watching the way it made your walls flex which pushed a bit of his come out every time. “I love the way your pussy looks, baby, it’s so fucking sexy,” he grinned. “And you know what? I think it looks even better with my come leaking out of it. You want more? I can give you more, baby, I have so much left to give— I’m gonna use you until my balls are empty and all my come is inside you. We’ve got all night, after all.”
He stripped himself as well, wanting to feel your skin against his this time, and stroked himself for a moment as he stared down at your body, laying there at his disposal. He couldn’t even count how many times he had jerked off imagining being with you, and now his dreams were coming true, if maybe not exactly the way he would’ve predicted.
On his knees between your spread legs, he lifted your hips up and propped you up just how he wanted you before pushing inside, groaning instantly not only from your warmth but also because of the way his own come eased his path and left you dripping wet. “Oh fuck,” he breathed, placing one hand beside your head so he could hover over you while the other squeezed your hips tightly.
But now that he’d already come before, he had some real stamina to work with and that gave him time to move you into a new position— just for fun, he turned you onto your stomach and fucked you from behind for a while. He was definitely a breast man all things considered, but he was absolutely not one to let a great ass go to waste; he loved watching yours ripple each time he slammed into you, pushing your back down to force it to arch a bit.
“You probably like taking it from behind, don’t you? Is this how you liked to get fucked?” he taunted with a groan. “Yeah, I think you like it— I think you’re a bit of a slut, hm?”
He took your absence of response as a yes, squeezing handfuls of your ass before spanking you a few times for good measure.
After that, he pushed your legs up to your shoulders, groaning in awe of such a lovely view of your pussy and face at the same time. This time when he pushed his cock into you, he felt himself hit the very end of your body— he moaned as he realized his cock was using all of you, really claiming you as his own. He needed to come this deep in you, he needed it like he had never needed anything before.
Soon enough it ended up with your legs draped over his shoulders and his hands roughly grabbing at your tits, and that transitioned naturally into him slipping his arms under your back and holding you tight as he fucked you fast, rough, needy— animalistic, near the end.
He let his mind run wild with some insane idea of what it might be like if you were awake: in his fantasy you were begging him for more, moaning about how he was the best you ever had, digging your nails into his back as he brought you to ecstasy with only his cock. You seemed like the type to cry with joy when you came really hard, at least that’s what he’d imagined before, and so he thought he might kiss your tears away while he spoke his little praises to you, hearing your sounds of pleasure right against his ear.
Suddenly he pressed his lips to yours again, almost wishing you could kiss him back properly but appreciating that this was the best he could do for now— and it still did plenty for him, making his cock start to flex inside you as his second orgasm drew closer.
“You’ll make me come, baby— you’re so good, I’m gonna come in you again,” he whispered against your lips. “Oh, Liebling, you’re going to be so full of my come, do you think you can take it all? Can you take everything, baby?”
It was different from the first one: in some ways more intense, kind of building on the last, and in some ways more subdued as he knew a bit more of what to expect by now. But it was no less incredible, and he moaned loudly into his unrequited kiss as he filled you once again.
Once the most intense pangs of sensation had faded, once the ringing in his ears had stopped, and once he’d (mostly) caught his breath, he sat up slowly and looked down at where your bodies were joined. It had, understandably, made a bit of a mess to come inside you twice in a row— he hopped up from the beg on slightly-wobbly legs to retrieve a damp cloth, cleaning his cock first before giving your pussy at least a cursory, exterior wipe down like any gentleman would.
He knew there was no real point in getting you fully cleaned up since he’d be back to use you again soon enough. But that was a ways out from now since he definitely needed a while to recover.
With a parting kiss to your forehead and a brief search for his boxers, Alex left the bedroom to forage the kitchen for something to restore some energy. He settled on a coffee (there was still plenty of night left that he would definitely prefer to be awake for), an apple, and some orange-chocolate biscuits, which he enjoyed while he turned on the TV and watched whatever was left before the end of broadcast.
Of course, with nothing interesting to watch, he found himself not really paying much attention as his mind wandered to other things. Most of all, for the first time he considered his plan for after the pill wore off and you had questions. The most thorough solution would be to give you a bath to get his fingerprints off of your skin and his come out of you, then to redress you in your clothes from the bar and simply say that you passed out and he gave you the bed while he slept on the couch.
Another option, though more dangerous, might be a bit more fun: he could leave at least some of his come inside you before he redressed you, just to know he’d left a bit of himself behind.
And, of course, there was always his last resort, perhaps the most obvious but highest risk solution. He could admit that something had happened, but try to convince you that it was of your doing, a drunken initiation that you simply couldn’t remember. But even then, it would all depend on what you remembered of the moments at the bar before blacking out; and considering the thorough beating your pussy had been receiving so far tonight and would continue to be receiving, the odds were probably pretty low that he could convince your hungover self in the morning that nothing had happened. Not that Alex would know, but he had a pretty good feeling that a sore vagina is not a common side effect of a hangover for women.
His cock started to stir as he imagined the absolute best case scenario when you woke up in the morning.
Alex, what happened last night? Did we have sex?
Yes, baby, and it was amazing, I just wish you could remember it.
Oh, Alex, I’ve been waiting so long for you to just man up and take me— you’re all I ever wanted.
I know, baby, but I’m sorry I had to go about it that way, giving you that pill in your drink. I just had to be sure you wouldn’t say no to me, I couldn’t take it if you did.
I’d never say no to you, Alex, and I never, ever will. I wouldn’t even know how, not after last night— I know that we’re meant to be together now. You shouldn’t apologize for drugging me either, I should be thanking you. We can finally be together, I can finally be all yours… come here and make love to me again, I promise I’m going to remember it this time— I’ll remember it for the rest of my life.
And to make up for such a one-sided night of passion before, he decided that this time you’d be loud and proud, even bordering on dominant by riding him with reckless abandon— bouncing happily on his cock and bringing yourself pleasure like you’ve never known before. But, of course, you’d both be well aware who was really in charge, who you really belonged to.
Alex, I’m yours— my body is yours, my heart is yours, everything, it’s all yours… I swear, nobody’s ever made me feel like you do, you can have me whenever you want me— use me, Alex, I love you, I love you!
Fuck, he was hard again. Way harder than he had any right to be considering how he’d spent the night so far. He could even just barely see a little stain of precum on his boxers by the tip of his cock, hard to make out with only the dim, blue-ish glow of the TV to see by.
But thankfully, while you were here, no boner would go to waste— he stood up and stretched away the soreness that had settled in from sitting on the couch for a while, before walking to his bedroom and cracking the door open. You were laying there, exactly as he’d left you, and even though it was no surprise at all he still smiled to himself proudly.
“Hey baby,” he grinned as he slipped off his boxers and hopped onto the bed beside your motionless body, “you’ve been waiting for me, huh?”
He ran his fingers down your stomach, over your thighs, then came back up to start to touch your pussy. He still couldn’t believe how soft and silky it was, you were just too good to be true— and here you were, spread out on his bed for him to use as much as he liked, his best friend turned into his own personal sex doll.
The only shame was that the drug would wear off eventually, and he couldn’t just use you this way forever. It was only one night, at least until he found a way to do it again, and he needed to make the most of it.
So, not looking to waste any more time, he climbed up on top of you and rubbed his cock over your pussy— wet and spread out on display for him, though even wetter after he took a moment to pull back and spit on it— while his mouth laved at your hardening nipples. Honestly, he could probably come just from this, just from rubbing himself on you and sucking on your tits, but why do that when he could fuck you again?
He held your legs apart for himself as he pushed inside, purring as he felt your swollen channel struggle slightly to accommodate him. “Aw, it’s not too big for you, is it baby?” he taunted you with a smirk. “You can take it all, right? Yeah you can, that’s my good girl…”
He fucked you a little faster right away, focusing his hands and mouth on your breasts for a while and wondering if he might find the self-discipline to pull out and come on your tits this time. Probably not, but it was fun to imagine. He always thought your tits just deserved to be covered in his come, though, ever since you wore that one dress that showed them off just a little too much and it made him too horny to even really be jealous that you were putting yourself on display like that.
You dressed a little too provocatively, all things considered; he never got his head around on how all these controlling douchebag boyfriends of yours let you leave the house like that. If you were his girlfriend, he’d treat you loads better than any of them did, but one thing he’d be sure of is to dress you up in baggy sweatshirts as much as he could get away with. No more of those tops with the straps as thin as a noodle and the jeans so tight that every guy who walked by was obviously staring at you. A body as lovely as yours would need to stay Alex’s-eyes-only, if you two were ever going to end up together. But obviously, tonight proved that Alex was more confident than ever that that could never really happen. It was nice to play pretend for the night, though.
“You’re taking it so good, baby, look at you,” he groaned as he sat up a bit to get a glimpse of your cunt stretched wide around his cock. “Can you believe it fits? I can, I know you were made to take it— ‘cause you’re my girl, huh? All mine…”
For all intents and purposes, he was talking to himself; but as stupid as it was, it worked.
“Yeah, you’re all mine,” he continued, fucking you faster, “this pussy belongs to me, all my come inside it makes that pretty fucking clear, don’t you think? Such a beautiful little pussy and it’s all mine.”
Overcome by it all, he leaned down to rest his head beside yours while he fucked you, feeling a thin layer of sweat gather around most of his body from the exertion of fucking you as hard as he was.
“You’re never gonna let anybody else touch you,” he demanded against your shoulder, “‘cause you’re mine, baby, and nobody else is ever gonna fuck you… just me, you’re gonna be mine, Liebling.”
He heard you let out a little sigh and at first it was the hottest thing he’d ever experienced— the closest he’d ever gotten to hearing you moan for him— but then he pulled back and saw your eyes blinking open and staring straight up at him…
And suddenly it was the most terrifying thing he’d ever experienced.
A rush of adrenaline— much less enjoyable than before— shot through him and left him petrified as he stared back at you.
“...A-Alex?” you croaked out weakly. “What’s happening?”
Even in his state of terror, he was moving on pure instinct: and his instinct was to keep fucking you. He couldn’t stop, not even staring you down like this, not even moments away from facing the very terrible consequences of his very terrible actions. “You’re dreaming,” he blurted out suddenly, suppressing a moan as he felt you squirm a bit beneath him— it made you even tighter when you struggled. “This is just a dream…”
You reached up, a pathetically weak attempt to push him away, and he quickly pinned your arms down beside your head.
“You’re just dreaming, baby,” he repeated in a groan, “a really, really amazing dream.”
You whimpered a bit but didn’t say anything else, eyes falling shut again; he carefully leaned down to press his face into your neck, kissing along your pulse and up to your ear.
“You’ve dreamed about this before, haven’t you?” he whispered to you softly. “You’ve dreamed about how good it would be if you let your best friend fuck you. And it feels good, doesn’t it? I dreamed about this too. For as long as I knew you.”
When he looked up at your eyes again, they were still shut, and your breathing started to slow down again. He couldn’t say for sure that you were asleep quite in the same way you had been before, but you weren’t awake the way you’d been before, either.
The safest option, of course, would be to stop now— but he was too close to coming a third time and he just couldn’t bring himself to stop moving when the slick friction was just so fucking good.
He tried not to be too rough so he wouldn’t jostle you awake, and even just that took all that was left of his willpower; it wasn’t all too much later that he came inside you one last time, whispering to you about how this might be the last time, but that he hopes you enjoyed your strange little dream about making love with your best friend.
Truth be told, he didn’t mean to fall asleep in the manner that he did— that being on top of you— but the coffee did little to keep him up compared to the sedative of three orgasms and your perfect pussy keeping him warm all night…
By the time he woke up, though, you two had migrated apart slightly, though you were still tangled up in his arms with your head on his chest.
Smiling down at you, he let himself run his fingers lightly over your back, over your arm draped on his chest, before he felt you start to stir with the sunlight in the window shining on your face.
You hummed a little, starting to move, but he thought he might’ve caught the moment you realised you were laying next to someone— and you looked up at him with those pretty eyes all confused. “Alex?” you groaned.
“Morning,” he greeted, trying to mimic the hungover exhaustion that tinted your voice.
“Oh Christ are we—” you choked, glancing down at his bare chest. “I think we’re naked.”
“That… seems to be the case, yes,” he agreed awkwardly.
“Did we…?” you prompted, looking up at him in a way that made it painfully ambiguous what answer you might prefer.
“I don’t know, we were both pretty wasted,” he offered, banking on you not remembering him being much more composed than you when you passed out. “What do you remember last?”
“Um, the bar…” you trailed off. “And we were walking outside…”
“Yeah, that’s kind of where my memory cuts off, too,” he bluffed with a nervous chuckle.
He saw your eyes get wide for a second before they darted away, and he raised an eyebrow. “Oh… oh shit,” you choked as you sat up suddenly, trying to cover yourself as you searched near the bed for your discarded clothes.
“What? What’s going on?” he asked quickly.
“I, uh, remember one other thing,” you explained pointedly, finally finding your panties and slipping them back on under the covers.
“Well, what is it?” he asked, but you ignored him as you searched for your bra. “Hey,” he barked, grabbing your shoulder as he sat up, and finally you faced him again, “what do you remember?”
“Well,” you sighed, “I, uh… I think I can say with complete confidence that we fucked last night.”
“Wait, what? Are you sure?” he pressed, sitting up a little straighter.
“I… remember,” you explained, “just a little bit.”
He just prayed that you didn’t remember that little bit where he drugged you. “Well, what happened?”
“I don’t know, okay? I just remember you on top of me and—”
“And?”
You swallowed thickly, and he had to hide a smirk when he realized what the rest of your sentence was. And it felt good.
“I should go…” you mumbled awkwardly, and he reached out to grab your arm.
“Wait, please,” he begged, and you looked back at him with watery eyes. “Look, I’m not sure what happened last night, but maybe it wasn’t a mistake— I mean, how can we be sure if we don’t give it a shot?”
You tilted your mouth a bit as you considered it.
“I mean, they say alcohol takes away your inhibitions, not that it gives you new ideas, right?” he added. “So we both got way too drunk and… if this is where we ended up, then maybe this is what we both really wanted all along.”
He scooted a bit closer to you on the bed, wrapping his arms around you. You sighed as you leaned into his chest, relaxing a bit. “I just don’t want to lose this,” you breathed. “You know: this.”
“Of course,” he agreed, “we’re always gonna be best friends, nothing can change that.”
He leaned in to kiss your temple… then your cheek… then just below your ear...
“Alex,” you breathed as he slowly laid you down and pressed you back into the mattress, but you jumped a little bit when he pressed his cock against your thigh. “Alex!”
“C’mon, baby, let’s remember together,” he encouraged with kisses all over your neck, grinning as your back arched.
“But… but we’re just friends,” you protested.
“Not anymore,” he purred. “I don’t remember much, but I remember you begging me for more. You loved my cock way too much for us to just be friends now, Liebling.”
For all the conflict on your face, your legs spreading open for him was pretty unambiguous. Your mind might have missed the memo, but your body was already used to him. With you conscious he could make you come around him, he could hear you moan his name, he could make you beg him to come inside you… the possibilities were really endless.
He should’ve known he’d never have the self-control to let it just be one night; he was a goner from the beginning, he’d do anything to have you— lie, steal, kill, spike your drink— and he wasn’t going to let you get away so easily, not when you were finally right here in his arms.
���You’re gonna be mine, baby,” he whispered in your ear as he slowly pushed his cock inside you once again, “all mine.”
#dark!alex kerner x reader#alex kerner dark fic#alex kerner noncon#yep this is where we're at folks#daniel brühl x reader#daniel brühl dark fic
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If I Fell For You (Part 14) - Keep Close
Summary: The Ackles have the Padalecki’s over for dinner and let it slip that they’re engaged. Things seem to be going well but the anniversary of the accident is coming up and the reader comes up with the Ackles taking their first vacation together as a means of distracting Jensen as well reconnecting with Ray...
Masterlist
Pairing: Jensen x nanny!reader
Word Count: 4,800ish
Warnings: language, mention of sex, mention of a dead parent/spouse, anxiety
A/N: Please enjoy and let me know what you think!
________
“I’m stuffed,” said Jensen that night, the kids running around playing soccer in the yard after dinner.
“I need that chicken recipe,” said Jared.
“I’ll write it down for you guys,” you said, sitting back in your chair. “You can do it with breast too if you like that better.”
“I want exactly this like, everyday from now on,” said Jared. Gen rolled her eyes and Jensen pulled out his phone. “Want me to take a pic?”
“I don’t need your freakishly long arms just yet,” chuckled Jensen. He turned around and took one of the four of you at the table before handing off his phone. “Mind getting one of us?”
“Your mom harassing you for engagement photos already?” asked Gen.
“By the time we were leaving they were both asking for photos and being obnoxious. Better than they were though,” said Jensen, smiling beside you. Jared took a few more and handed the phone back.
“I still can’t believe your parents would act like that,” said Gen. “I mean obviously I’m super happy it got fixed but that’s so unlike them.”
“They made a mistake is all,” you said with a smile. “I don’t know about you guys but I’m going to finish this beer in the pool.”
“I think I’ll join you,” said Jared. He stood up and had a look on his face you caught too late. Before you knew it he had you picked up and was jogging over to the deep end and jumping in with you.
“Jared!” you said when you popped up. He giggled and swam off to the shallow end. “After I helped pick up the plates ya big lug.”
“We got it,” said Jensen, carrying over two beer cans and handing them to you. “We’ll join you guys in a few.”
About ten minutes later Jensen was leaning against the side of the pool in his bright red swim trunks, handing you the other half of his cookie cake piece.
“So any big plans for the wedding?” asked Jared, sat on the pool steps with Gen.
“I have a thought,” you said, turning to Jensen. “I haven’t discussed it with Jensen yet.”
“Vegas. Shotgun wedding,” he laughed. You shook your head and he grinned. “You’re thinking the farm, aren’t you.”
“What do you think? It could be outdoor or indoor, whatever it needs to be depending on the weather.”
“I’d love that,” he said, giving you a squeeze. “That’d be perfect for us.”
“You own a farm?” asked Jared.
“Yeah, ten minutes from the brewery.”
“Dudes. You can open bar with your own beer. Oh and dibs on being a groomsmen.”
“Like that wasn’t gonna happen,” said Jensen.
“I don’t know on that,” you said. Jared’s face fell and you shook your head. “Sorry. I didn’t mean that you wouldn’t be one. Of course you would. I just don’t have a lot of close girlfriends. I think it’d be weird if Jensen had a ton and…”
“I don’t think it’s weird,” said Gen. “We didn’t have an even number at our wedding.”
“We got time to figure that stuff out,” said Jensen, holding your waist. You finished the last bite of cookie and hummed.
“So you two having a kid?” asked Jared. Gen whacked his chest and he shrugged.
“Jesus, Jare. Don’t ask that.”
“They’re our best friends and godparents to our children...although I guess Y/N didn’t know that she inherited that until now but come on, I know you’re wondering too.”
“Shut up,” said Gen, crossing her arms. “Obviously if they decide, they’ll tell us when it happens.”
“Yeah, I think there’ll be at least one,” you laughed. Gen lit up and turned to Jared.
“Last time they said they were having a baby guess what we did? I can’t handle no more babies,” said Jared.
“Can you even get that thing up anymore?” teased Jensen, sipping on his beer.
“You’re one to talk, old man.”
“That shit still works just fine.”
“Just fine?” shot back Jared.
“Oh my God. You’re both good at sex. Y/N be grateful you’ve missed this same conversation over and over for the past sixteen odd years,” said Gen.
“I’m still taller,” said Jared with a smirk.
“I can last longer,” said Jensen with one of his own. They narrowed their eyes at one another and Jared stood up.
“Go wrestle on the grass,” groaned Gen. They both huffed and got out of the pool before starting to playfully wrestle. “See, what you may not realize yet is you have another child right there.”
“Yeah but he’s hot,” you said, Gen laughing while you sat beside her. “Do you guys really talk about sex with each other?”
“Yes and no. The boys are you know, boys. They’d combust if they didn’t tease each other. I wouldn’t say there’s like, intimate details or anything ever shared. They’re both pretty private about that sort of thing. Dee and I would talk but more so say we had fun the night before. Shit we probably talked about sex toys more than anything.”
You stopped mid sip of your beer and she laughed.
“When your guy is thousands of miles away for that long out of the year, you gotta get off on your own. You get pretty good at phone sex too. You’re lucky. Jensen won’t be staying away so long ever again he said.”
“No, no. But uh...before Jensen I’d had the same boyfriend forever and he was as vanilla as could be. We didn’t do that stuff really together.”
“I can text you some links to stuff. It’s not like you have to go in some scary store or anything. It’s discrete and I think a small vibe would be great to start with. You can use it during sex or foreplay or whatever. Just you know, have fun.”
“Jensen and I kinda got busted by the cops a week or so back for...activities in the backseat,” you said. She started to laugh and you groaned. “Thankfully it was his friend that caught us so he let us off the hook but...it was kinda fun.”
“Good,” she said, sighing as Jensen pinned Jared down. “Hey so yeah about that wedding thing. Jared had two more groomsmen than I had girls. It doesn’t have to be matchy, matchy, you know?”
“I know. I don’t know if…” you trailed off. “I lost my friend group when I broke it off with my last boyfriend. We’d been together for over ten years and I kept turning down his proposals and they didn’t like that. I have some nanny friends but not a lot and no one I’m really close to. I don’t know if I’d even get more than five people to come for me. Everyone else is his family and friends and I didn’t think about that until just now. I mean what would they think, seeing that? I don’t know if I even want anyone there now.”
“I think what they’d see is someone they care about marrying someone he loves. Just because we’re Jensen’s friends doesn’t mean we’re not your friends too. I know we’re still getting to know each other but we’ll be as close as those two eventually. Ruthie was texting me and we’re having a girls night the next convention in Dallas. You literally have a built in crew ready to go from the show, the girls and the guys. You are so coming with me to the next night I have with my local girlfriends and you got our family. You even got Dee’s parents. You have more than you know, sweetie.”
“I never had a best friend growing up except for my mom. Until Jensen,” you said. “I’ve never really been good at the friend thing.”
“Were you bullied in school?” she asked quietly.
“Don’t tell anyone besides Jared but my dad wasn’t a good person. He hurt me and so I was afraid of getting in trouble so I didn’t talk to other kids all that much until I got old enough to understand what he was doing was wrong and that’s how I ended up being adopted.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Can’t do anything about it now. But I can have it not control my life too. I’ve been pretty good since I was nine in that department. My mom dying sucked and things have been up and down but I like where I am now. This is easily the happiest I’ve ever been in my life.”
“Jens’s not perfect.”
“I know. But he’s good enough. He gave me a certain confidence to live my life, like really live it.”
“He’s alright,” she smiled. “You know I have an idea about this bridesmaids thing you might like.”
“You?”
“Oh I would for sure but I meant more so I know two little girls that wouldn’t mind. Maybe there’s a boy too,” she said.
“I’m gonna need you to be my wedding planner at this rate,” you said.
“Job accepted,” she said. “I say we go farmhouse modern style.”
“Gen. I got engaged like two weeks ago. We have time,” you said. “We don’t even have a date.”
“At the very least can we go dress shopping?” she asked.
“I’m going to regret this,” you sighed as Jensen stepped back in the water.
“Get yourself a stronger man, Padalecki. That one is weak,” he said. Jared followed him right after and went to tackle him when Gen caught his arm.
“Boys, not in the water,” she said.
“Chicken?” asked Jensen.
“Losers pick up the tab for when we go out this weekend for dinner. Deal?” asked Jared.
“Well in that case, you’re on.”
Two Weeks Later
“Jensen,” you said, carding your fingers through his hair while he absentmindedly burnt some eggs. “You okay babe?”
“Yeah. We ought to pack up the kids, get on the road soon if we’re gonna hit the beach.”
“I’m gonna drive, okay?” you asked. He nodded and you got out the eggs again, making up a new batch. “Do you want to talk to Ray?”
“Why?” he asked quietly, leaning back against the counter.
“Anniversaries of traumatic events can be triggering,” you said. “My mom died two days ago. Well, you know what I mean.”
“Why didn’t you say anything?” he asked.
“Because it doesn’t trigger me anymore. But it did and this is the first time...the first one is the roughest.”
“Yeah,” he said. “I ought to talk to him.”
“Eat your breakfast. I’ll give him a call and get the kids ready while you guys talk, okay?” you said.
“Thank you,” he said. You kissed his cheek and hugged him before you went upstairs for your phone. It rang a few times but Ray finally answered, noise in the background.
“Y/N. Everything alright?” he asked.
“Hey. Yeah. We’re...we’re pretty good. Today’s the first anniversary of Jensen’s-”
“Ah. I understand.”
“Listen, I know it’s a Sunday and you don’t work the weekends but would you mind talking to him for a few minutes? We’re going down to Galveston for the week in a bit but he’s off this morning.”
“I’d talk to him even if he wasn’t your fiance but especially because of that. You know we’re actually down here ourselves for a few days. Just got down yesterday. If you guys are around...maybe we could get together for that swim.”
“I’d like that. You okay?” you asked.
“I always get a little down on the day but Sarah understands. You understand.”
“Yeah. I’m gonna put Jensen on and um, maybe we can meet at Arillo’s for dinner?”
“We got a reservation there ourselves tonight. How many in your crew? Five? I’ll call and ask for an update.”
“Yeah there’s five of us. Um, Ray?”
“Yeah?”
“I’m sorry for being so horrible as a teenager after mom. You loved her as much as I did.”
“Thank you but you don’t have to apologize for that. You got too much pain in your life. I’m glad you found the good stuff too.”
“Are Geroge and Taylor there?” you asked.
“Yeah kids are here. Taylor’s got some internship but she does it online half the day and George is some research assistant thing for one of his professors but same kinda deal. We leave them to work in the morning while Sarah and I have some fun. Want me to let them know you’re coming?”
“Probably a good idea. Not sure how they’ll react,” you said, Jensen poking his head into the bedroom. “Here’s Jensen.”
“Okay, sweetie. We’ll see you guys soon.”
You handed the phone to Jensen and finished up packing while he sat on the bed. You tried to leave him be but couldn’t help listening in.
“Yeah I’m anxious...I don’t want her to drive down today...you know why...I guess...probably...I don’t want to be freaking out for three hours in the car...because it’s today...I know...I know...so I have to suck it up...I don’t want to have a panic attack in the car with the kids...no I haven’t...I’m scared I will though...yeah...I understand...dude that sounds so stupid...that’s not medically anything...no I don’t have my doctorate...I don’t wanna ask her...I said I don’t want to, not that I wouldn’t...I know...I will...maybe I’ll try that too...yeah, Y/N said the first year is the roughest too...I’ll let her be in charge until we get down to the beach today. I think I’ll feel better after the car...yeah I kinda figured out what she was doing planning a trip on today of all days...I need it...really? Yeah, I’m looking forward to meeting up down there too...thanks Ray.”
You finished with your suitcase and had his open for him when he walked into the closet. He swallowed and handed your phone back.
“All good?” you asked.
“Ray thought it might be a good idea if I had something of yours with me on the way down, to keep on me since I’m...anxious this morning about being in a car.”
“Something of mine…” you said, looking at your side of the closet. “Why don’t you pack up and I’ll get you something before the road, okay?”
He nodded and twenty minutes and about three bathroom trips later the SUV was packed up. You hopped behind the wheel, Jensen tapping the arm rest from the passenger seat.
“Here,” you said, reaching into your pocket, pulling out a bracelet. It was fabric, the kind made from craft string, white, rusty orange and a light tan color mixed together.
“I’ve never seen this,” he said as he held it between his fingers.
“I got it on vacation with mom and Ray. Last one we went on,” you said, tying it around his wrist. “You have it.”
He stared at you as you turned the engine on, watching you backout.
“This is too important for me to take,” he said quietly.
“It’s fabric. I want you to have it, okay?” you said, pulling onto the street and closing the gate. He nodded and you turned the radio on low. “Coffee run?”
“Yeah. Coffee sounds good right about now.”
You were only about fifteen or so minutes away from the beach house you’d rented. The kids were either taking naps in the backseats or watching a movie on the ipad. You risked a glance at Jensen, his fingers absently toying with the bracelet while he looked out the window, the radio on low.
“How you doing big guy?” you asked as you pulled off to the exit ramp.
“Pretty good now,” he said softly.
“Mind navigating for me?” you asked. He hummed and picked up your phone from where it sat in the console the past few hours. About twenty minutes or so you were stretching outside of the car, Jensen opening the front door of the house with the code you’d been given. The kids climbed out and were good about each taking their own backpacks while you and Jensen gathered up the rest.
“Come here,” he said, leaving the bags by his feet and kissing you against the side of the car. You grinned and he picked you up in a big squeezing hug. “I love you.”
“I know,” you said. He set you down and kissed you again. “You seem like yourself again.”
“I needed that push, get over that fear. But now, I can enjoy my day with my girl and my kiddos and apparently we are having dinner with Ray and his family tonight?” he asked.
“If that’s alright,” you said.
“One hundred percent,” he said, Arrow jumping up and down nearby. “Honey, go use the bathroom in the house if you have to go.”
“No I’m excited!” she said. “Can we go play on the beach? Pretty please?”
“Hm, give daddy fifteen minutes and then we can go?” he asked. She turned to you and grinned.
“We’ll go really soon sweetie. I promise.”
“Hey guys,” said Jensen an hour later, the five of you down on the beach and mostly watching them build a sandcastle together. “Y/N and I want to tell you something.”
“Is it that you guys are getting married?” asked JJ, patting some sand with her shovel. You glanced at Jensen and he shrugged. “You were talking to Aunt Gen and Uncle Jared about it last night, right?”
“Well, yes we were,” said Jensen. “I suppose we were a little louder than we thought. But yes, Y/N and I have decided to get married. We’re not sure when exactly but in the next year I can say.”
“So we have a mom again?” asked Arrow, fixing her corner of the castle that kept caving in.
“Well you guys are kinda lucky. You’ll get two moms,” he said. “How’s that sound?”
“We missed mom’s day,” she said with a sigh. “Right?”
“We’ll catch it next year, promise,” said Jensen. “Do you guys have any questions or anything you want to say?”
“Do we call you mom now?” asked JJ.
“You guys call me whatever you want,” you said.
“Can we call you mom?” she asked. You nodded and she went back to playing in the sand.
“Anything else guys?” asked Jensen.
“Can I get a giraffe?” asked Zeppelin while he figured out how much water to add to the sand to get it to stick together.
“No sweetie. They wouldn’t fit at our house,” said Jensen.
“Darn it,” he said.
“I can tell you’re all so invested in this topic,” chuckled Jensen.
“Oh! Can my flower girl dress be purple?” asked JJ.
“Your dress can be whatever color you want it to be,” you said.
“Awesome,” she said. “Or black and purple. With lightning stripes.”
“Ah, I knew the classic rock would finally pay off,” said Jensen.
“Maybe Daddy’s suit can be black and white stripes, like a tiger,” you said.
“Like a White Snake music video more like it,” he laughed. “We’ll figure all that stuff out. We wanted to make sure you guys knew was all and if you have any questions or were nervous or anything you know you can ask either one of us.”
“Mom makes you happy again. Of course you gotta marry her!” said Arrow. “Oh and get her a pony. Girls like that.”
“Would you care for a pony, sweetheart?” asked Jensen as he shook his head.
“Are we talking mustang kind of pony?” you asked.
“That’s my girl,” he said, wrapping an arm over your shoulders, kissing your cheek. “Let dad get a picture of you guys. We’re on vacation after all.”
Five Hours Later
“Jensen,” you said, changing into a light summer top and a pair of denim shorts after your shower. He was standing by his suitcase undressed, trailing his finger over his scar. “Honey?”
“A year ago was the worst day of my life and today was a really great one. I get to meet Ray more and even Sarah and the kids who all sound great and...I’m really happy I’m still here to see all this.”
“Me too,” you said, wrapping your arms around him. “Wear your red underwear.”
“Is that a request?”
“I like how you look when you take it off,” you said, gently smacking his ass as you went to go fix your hair.
“I am so grateful I found you,” he said to himself. You smiled and brushed your teeth quickly before checking yourself over and taking a selfie. You sat up on the counter and opened instagram, still silently grateful you’d always had it on private. There was nothing bad on it but Jensen and Jared had tagged you before and all of the comments always seemed to be negative.
“How do I look?” asked Jensen, walking in wearing a short sleeve navy button down and his red underwear.
“So sexy,” you giggled, Jensen digging through his other bag and finding his khaki shorts.
“Can I get away with sneakers and a backwards baseball cap at this restaurant?” he asked.
“Totally. We always eat outside. It’s near the pier,” you said, putting up your post.
“Taking more pictures I can show off of you again?” he asked, grabbing your brush and getting some control of his damp hair back.
“Nobody even sees my instagram hardly,” you said.
“You know the internet knows we’re dating, right.”
“I’m pretty sure your fans still aren’t okay with that fact, even if they know.”
“Oh you’re mistaking the nutjobs for actual fans. The real ones, those guys are cool and nice. I actually got a lot of care packages and things from them last year. Still do. They really are good people. Those other ones that leave nasty comments? Fuck them. That shit don’t bother me anymore.”
“What are you saying?”
“I’m saying family and friends know. Can I show off the woman I love to the world?” You wrapped your legs around his waist and pulled him in front of you, his head cocking.
“Yeah,” you said. “Better late than never.”
“Okay,” he said. “For now though, I’m looking forward to this dinner.”
“I hope it goes well. It’s George and Taylor I’m more worried about. They were kids when I decided to stop coming around. I only knew them maybe two years, if even that. I know they were upset.”
“Give them some credit. Ray raised them too after all.”
“I’m all set!” said Zeppelin, walking into the bathroom with his paw patrol shirt and nothing else on.
“At least I was gonna wear underwear,” chuckled Jensen. “Little dude. Get some undies on and shorts in the next two minutes or else…” he trailed off as he came in and hugged Jensen’s leg.
“I love you, daddy,” he said.
“I love you.”
“Can we get a giraffe now?” he asked. Jensen rolled his eyes and you released him.
“Let’s go finish getting you dressed, buddy.”
“So you guys were Sarah’s fosters?” asked Jensen towards the end of dinner, all three kids passed out asleep in the stroller or on the bench besides you while you picked at your shared dessert. Neither George or Taylor had said much aside from introducing themselves.
“Guys,” said Ray, nudging Taylor. “I’m sorry for our children’s rudeness. I was afraid of this.”
“Shut up,” they both said, Sarah sighing.
“The kids were both big fans of Supernatural. They grew up watching it with me. It was something we bonded over at first in fact,” she said.
“Oh,” said Jensen, a smirk forming on his face. “Sam or Dean girls? George come on buddy, it’s okay.”
“This isn’t happening,” said Taylor, her eyes squeezed shut.
“So you guys don’t want to hear about the movie, gotcha,” he said, both of them snapping their heads up.
“He really is a dork,” you said.
“Movie?” asked George.
“Someday. You can count on it,” said Jensen. “Maybe I’ll go easy on you guys and ask what mom was?”
“You boys are a little young for my tastes but honestly the guy who played John was very attractive,” she said.
“Even I’d hit that,” said Ray, Sarah laughing to herself.
“You can see Ray wins his ladies over with his charm,” you said, glancing at Taylor and George. “Like you guys could literally ask anything you ever wanted about the show and get an unfiltered answer if you want.”
“Did you really keep the car?” asked George. Jensen nodded and held up his finger.
“When we’re back in town, you guys come over and you can take a spin in it,” he said.
“Okay, he’s cool with me,” said George. You cocked your head and he smiled. “That was the car from the show I always told you about.”
“Oh. I thought you were talking about batman or something,” you said, pursing your lips. “Sorry I wasn’t…”
“You always sucked at pretending to be happy,” said Taylor. You looked down and nodded. “We get it. You had to do your own thing.”
“Don’t hate me for leaving?”
“Maybe when we were little,” she said. “But we’re older and we get that you probably felt like a fifth wheel.”
“Yeah. A lot really,” you said. “It worked out though.”
“She’s a Dean girl by the way,” said Ray, cracking up as Taylor whacked his arm.
“Dad! Oh my God no I’m not! I like Sam!” she said.
“Want to talk to him?” grinned Jensen. Her face went red and you heard a quiet chuckle at the table. “You’re right, we’ll save that for in person.”
“You basically are marrying Dean Winchester without like, the trauma,” she said. Jensen tensed up but kept a smile on his face. You knew Ray caught it when he gave him a simple nod.
“Trauma’s not inherently bad,” said Ray. “Everyone at this table has gone through some.”
“I know, dad,” she said quietly. She looked at George and he nodded. “Our parents were in a house fire. So were we. I was five and Georgie was four.”
“She carried him out and went next door for help,” you said.
“I was in a car accident last year,” said Jensen. You turned your head. It wasn’t public knowledge that he was in the car. He’d flat out told you that aside from family and a few friends, no one besides you knew. “I almost died. My wife did but for other reasons. You can still have trauma and a really good life.”
“Very good point, Jensen,” said Ray. “You two rugrats wouldn’t be around if mom and I had moped around in our misery forever.”
“Was he always such a sap?” asked George.
“From the day I met him,” you said, Jensen grabbing your hand under the table. “Would you mind watching the kids for a second?”
“Not at all,” he said. You excused yourself and brought Jensen along with you, walking out to the beach area, the breeze cool but light.
“You alright?”
“Yeah. I can talk about it now. I went from having the worst year of my life to one of the best. Nothing bad’s gonna happen for saying what really happened. I want to let all that shit go and have the rest of that really good life I was talking about.”
“For someone who keeps a lot inside I sure have noticed a difference in you the past few weeks.”
“To quote both of the loves of my life, I gotta let that shit out more regularly,” he said. You smiled and wrapped your arms over his shoulders, giving him a kiss.
“You know that’s what we call growth, babe.”
“I very easily could have gone the opposite way this year.”
“But you didn’t, cause you tried even though it sucks sometimes. I love you but I extra love happy you and you’re definitely a happier guy now than when I met you.”
“So are you, honey,” he said. “Must make a pretty good team or something.”
“Oh yeah, maybe that’s it.”
“We should honestly get like, married or something, you know?” he teased.
“First I have to know though, are you willing to do cookie cake for a wedding cake?”
“I’m willing to make that sacrifice,” he said. “The real questions is, are you willing to deal with the eventual dad bod that will happen as a result?”
“I love this bod, but I don’t love you for this bod,” you said.
“Thank you for today,” he said softly.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” you said. He grinned and kissed your cheek, hugging you tightly. “What are best friends for?”
“Everything?”
“Hell yeah they are Ackles.”
_______
A/N: Read Part 15 here!
#spn#supernatural#jensen ackles#jensen ackles x reader#jensen series#jensen x reader#rpf#rpf series#jensen ackles fanfic#supernatural fanfic#spn fanfic
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can John actually control time or am i making things up? trying to reach a conclusion via tumblr posting
so as a theory this is 75% vibes. however there’s some things in the books that give me pause, and i wanted to put together all those bits and see if there’s something there. i’m not totally on board with this idea because it seems too complex to leave entirely to the last book, and i don’t know how it could fit with the rest of the narrative (or do i?) but in any case i keep thinking about it so here’s this way too long post. spoliers for everything
first, this fucking suspicious sentence that’s one of the first things John tells Harrow (Chapter 2, HtN)
"I would let you come back, bit by bit, until you felt entirely ready to wake up. I can’t. I mastered Death, Harrowhark; I wish I’d done the smarter thing and mastered Time. I have to ask you to get ready soon, and so I am going to show you something I hope might … trigger your readiness.”
so this sounds like a really dull complaint on this immortal god’s part but also i don’t trust a single thing out of this man’s mouth, and this would be the exact kind of private joke he would make if he had actually mastered Time (capitalized) too. Also the context in which it’s said, talking about Harrow coming back from her coma, regaigning consciousness, awakening... you get it, oddly relevant theme wise.
then there’s the whole Soup Moment (Chapter 25, HtN), in which John seems to actually stop time maybe? i have doubts about this so lets see what our narrator tells us;
And God said, “Stop.”
The world slowed down. Augustine and Mercymorn stopped, arrested in the act of half-rising from their seats. Ianthe stopped, left arm paused, outflung, to shield her face. You stopped, sitting upright in your chair: your bones somehow rigid and still, and your flesh chilly and rigid around those bones. The shrapnel spray from the Saint of Duty did not stop, [...] But what remained of him stopped too, half man, half rupture—his prurient details hot and white, naked insides clothed with the sinus-drying burst of the power of God.
so here John freezes all the lyctors in place, they’re still conscious, or at least Harrow is, but they have their range of movement almost totally restricted. this is not like Mercy pinching Harrow’s dorsal nerve to paralyze her, this is a completely different feeling, maybe John’s thalergetic powers? it would make sense, all the lyctors are living bodies, they have thalergy and Johs is able to manipulate that, presumably. the bits of Gideon OG cascading down the table don’t stop but that might be John selectively using his powers, or it might be that that’s no longer living flesh.
so we’re saying this could just be John’s super special thalergy magic and nothing else. the first problem though is that technically he shouldn’t be able to use it against his lyctors without touching them, thanks to lyctoral invisibility. in fact when he explodes Mercy’s chest (rip in peace queen) he expressely reaches out and touches her to do so, because presumably he needs to make contact with a body in order to use magic against it, same as Mercy. so that’s a caveat, then there are these descriptions from the same Soup Moment;
You stared down the table at him: at the blank, remote faces of your two nominal teachers—at the frozen ivory stillness of Ianthe, her hair now whitish pink—at space outside the window, where the asteroids themselves seemed to hang in tranquilized arrest.
The Emperor of the Nine Houses stood. The spell, whatever it had been, dropped like a white sun setting.
These seem to imply certain ambiguity. John’s God and all that but i don’t think thalergetic magic should be able to affect asteroids, lifeless space rocks. of course it says they “seem” to hang in tranquilized arrest, not that they are really unmoving, but i think it’s a suggestive sentence all the same, and i’m suspicious of every word Muir writes. The second quote, specifically the highlighted part, is also a bit frustrating. It seems to imply that John isn’t exactly doing magic as we know it, but something else. If it was Harrow narrating we could go further with it, but since it’s Gideon we could simply attribute it to her lack of knowledge and familiarity with magic. However, two sentences after that we don’t have that problem;
The construct gamely clamberign our of the Saint of Duty dwindled to a powder of pink dust. The shard you had been driving up the cervical vertebrae to the base of the spine [...] simply disappeared: destroyed or removed, you could not tell.
This is still Gideon narrating but in this case she’s specifically telling us that Harrow doesn’t understand what John just did, it’s not magic Harrow is familiar with. There’s also the contrast between what we know is a normal process of destroying a construct - reducing it to dust - vs this mysterious disappearance, that doesn’t really fit into what we know so far about the way thanergy/thalergy work.
so far, nothing conclusive, we know John is really powerful, but we don’t know exactly how, where his power comes from or what it can do. Then there’s the moment he unexplodes himself (Chapter 52, HtN);
White light.
It bleached the insides of your nose and the back of your throat. It hurt coming out your ears. It bled out your eyeballs. It wasn’t a flash of light, more … a suddenness; when it was gone—as though it hadn’t even existed, but had been a luminous hallucination—time stopped.
That light took colour from the room—everyone was a slow-motion cavalcade of greys, of eyes caught widening, of mouths parting in stone-shaded articulations of shock.
It happened in an instant. It happened over a myriad. A wet red construct knitted itself back together, [...]
again that white light that has been associated with thalergy magic and again all these references to time slowing down, stopping or just behaving in strange ways in general. again lots of ambiguity, this could be a thalergy based power - the ability to hold living bodies in stasis, and therefore make everyone feel like time has slowed down - or it could be that John is actually affecting time, maybe even reversing it (?) since he literally un-exploded himself, after Mercy put all her millenia of expertise into atomizing him and reducing him to almost nothing.
is that even explicable with regular thanergy/thalergy based magic? i’m not sure, a regular necro could never do that, a lyctor couldn’t do that. So if John isn’t just an overpowered lyctor what’s the difference exactly? i mean, how do his powers manifest differently from those of every other necromancer we know?
the other person we’ve seen using powerful thalergy magic is Silas. Whenever he siphoned, Gideon describes a similar vacuum sensation to the one that John’s magic also provokes, as well as white light;
As he faded, the pale Silas incandesced. He glowed with an irradiated shimmer, iridescent white, and the air began to taste of thunder. (Chapter 17, GtN)
Gideon felt an internal tug, like a blanket being pulled off in the cold. (Chapter 17, GtN)
Silas clambered to his knees, clasped his fingers together, and the feeling of suction popped the pressure in both of Gideon’s ears. (Chapter 34, GtN)
Silas is nowhere near as powerful as John but siphoning - thalergy based magic, condemned by God - still causes that suction effect and is marked by white light and lightning, just like John’s magic. However, there’s no mention of a time altering effect, no slowing down, no freezing in place, and seeing how both kinds of magic are similarly coded otherwise i find this difference suspicious.
To end this somewhere, two quotes, first, this thing Harrow tells Ortus when they both discuss what it must be like to be a lyctor (Chapter 5, HtN);
“Nigenad, what would be the tragedy in living for a myriad? Ten thousand years to learn everything there is to know [...] What is the tragedy of time?”
honestly to me that sounds like Muir making Harrow say things she will regret later. of course it could be about any of the numerous tragedies in Harrow life but still, gave me pause, specially because it kinda echoes John’s earlier sentiment, wishing he had mastered Time.
finally, a quote that might be totally meaningless and completely off base in this theory or it could round it up perfectly, i haven’t decided yet;
[...] ; yet you prayed all the while knowing Ianthe’s facility for tergiversation would have given the whole universe pause. (Chapter 36, HtN)
we know Ianthe is a girlboss and gaslighting is her thing. However, isn’t this sentence a bit too dramatic to describe Ianthe? doesn’t it sound kinda ominous to you? it definitely does to me, and although it might totally be my Ianthe bias wanting her to play an important part, who is Ianthe hanging out with lately? exactly John God “Jod” the Emperor.
in conclusion, i haven’t reached any conclusion. but i still think there’s something off with John’s powers beyond what we’ve been told, which isn’t much really, and i think there’s something going on with Time within the narrative (that’s another whole post though), and i think these two things are most probably related. but i can’t say i’m 100% sure of any of it. this was fun though. if you made it here thank you so much you’re the best <3
#the intermitent use of capitalization throughtout this wole thing...#this is really very long. if you read it and have any thought whatsoever about it please do share i'd love to hear them#htn spoilers#harrow the ninth spoilers#the locked tomb#meta commentary
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The Munchies
prompt: a stoner feedee's girlfriend uses him to test out new edibles and deals with his munchies
Remmy returned home from visiting relatives on the last day of December, and he was very glad to be back. They’d fed him well and his pants were tight, but all the small talk and bad vibes had been as much of a drag as usual.
He opened the door to his apartment and breathed in a familiar, potent scent.
“Baby!” Brianna ran from the kitchen and tackled him.
“Happy almost New Year! Wanna hear my resolution? Baking and getting baked. Check it out.”
She brought him over to the counter, where she was almost done filling up three containers of what Remmy had no doubt were various edibles. He ignored the kitchen mess.
“I’m liking what I see,” Remmy laughed.
She preened and then pinched his love handle. “I bet you do."
"These aren’t your typical brownies, though," she said. "This is gourmet.” She kissed her fingertips in a muah.
The first container was full of moist shortbread, the second with a kind of apple crumble dish that looked divine. Last but not least, the third had a jumble of what like peanut butter cups.
“Try something!” Brianna gushed. She seemed to be a little floaty already. “You’re gonna be my new taste tester. I think I could really be good at this. Make some cash, too.”
So Remmy tried one of the peanut butter cups. His eyes widened, and he smiled. “Bri, these are incredible.” He ate another.
“Take it easy. Two should get you stoned. So says the recipe anyway.” Brianna rubbed his pudgy forearm as he eyed the rest in the container, biting the inside of his lip. “Hey. If you’re just hungry, I can fix that. You wanna eat?”
“I’m starving,” Remmy said. A lie, since he’d had a big lunch before driving back. But he could eat.
“Okay, I’ll get you something! Pay day was Monday. Let’s splurge. What do you want?”
McDonalds, Remmy’s mind supplied easily, in an almost salacious tone. His relatives thought they were too good for McDonalds, and now his body thrummed with the desire to just get a truckload of those greasy combos and revel in the guilt and satisfaction of eating every last unhealthy bite.
Then again. Brianna probably wasn’t okay to drive right now, he didn’t feel like getting back in the car, and the scale told him he’d hit 240 recently, “Let’s just order in.”
“Sounds good to me.”
That night, as they ignored the idiots on television bringing in the New Year, the two of them picked at the apple crumble - which tasted as brilliant as Remmy had suspected - and lounged around, enjoying their high. Brianna barely touched her Chinese takeout, and Remmy ate all of his. Then hers. Then he started grazing the kitchen for more food.
Over the course of the next week, the two of them finished off the rest of what she made, plus some more recipes that turned out delicious. Brianna got a pleasant high every time, and Remmy enjoyed the edibles, too, although his experience was slightly different. It was just—
He just—
He got hungry. Munchies but on unholy overdrive. Cranked to eleven and a half. With every high, Remmy became a little more overwhelmed by the sheer amount of food he felt compelled to pack away, savory and sweet. Takeout and fast food and quarts of ice cream. Nuts and fruits, too. Jar of peanut butter here. Tub of icing there. He’d never been very active, so it came as no surprise when his clothes began stretching over his chest and belly and thighs and ass. He popped a button getting dressed one morning and couldn’t stop thinking about it the rest of the day. He hadn’t realized it would happen so quickly, his body converting all the calories into flab. Flab that padded him out chubbier than he already was, and then more on top of that. In the mirror, he started to look big.
Brianna seemed unfazed by her boyfriend’s growing girth. She took to her baking resolution with as much gusto as she did anything that interested her, and even into March, April, and May, she was selling the edibles well and raked in money that almost made her day job obsolete. Remmy was constantly praised for being “the bestest taste tester ever” and enjoyed a steady stream of free highs to balance out the lows of spending most of his time working his IT job from home.
Working, gaming, watching old movies. Remmy already stayed sitting most of the day, but as he gained weight, gained a lot, filling out his desk chair to its limits, crumbs becoming his constant companion, he felt even less like standing up. His weight climbed to 280, 290, 300.
June, July, and August passed uneventfully, and pretty happily, too. Brianna stopped asking him what food he wanted from the grocery store and just bought him things. Bought him things she knew he’d eat when he got high, things that made his ass spread wider on the couch, his arms round out like sausages, his pudgy chest start to really droop. The scale said 320, 330, 340.
Remmy gave up trying to gain control of the new appetite Brianna’s heavenly edibles seemed to install in him irrevocably. When he craved, he ate, and he ate. And like a dam breaking, his body surged with so much excess fat he began spilling out of even his newest clothes.
He was a little ashamed, sure. But quite a few of his relatives were fat, so they couldn't talk, and it felt like sweet revenge to embarrass his irritating parents by becoming so overweight. As for everyday life, well, he just moved around from room to room slower, wore the same stretchy clothes a lot, and that was it. Remmy did mention his weight in passing sometimes to gauge Brianna’s feelings about it, but Brianna only ever giggled, called him cute, and passed him her venti sugary monstrosity of a coffee concoction, which he thoughtlessly sucked down to the dregs, ingesting a thousand-plus calories just like that. This made her eyes sparkle, huge and utterly endeared.
“Like a piggy,” she said, thumbing his fat cheek. “Always willing to eat.”
In bed, she made it clear she liked him the way he was, and was becoming. And it wasn’t long before Remmy realized he was into how big he was becoming, too.
They continued like this. Getting high together and watching movies and making out and snacking. Well, Brianna snacked. Remmy feasted. Gorged himself, to put it precisely, with Brianna’s enthusiastic help. “You look good soft,” she’d tell him, playing with belly fat that his stretchiest t-shirts couldn’t cover anymore.
Remmy would swallow another bite of a snickers and spread his huge thighs a little, with effort. “You call it soft, but I’m the one who gets tired moving from the office to the kitchen.” I’m so heavy, he wanted to say. God, I’m so heavy.
“Just move your computer to the kitchen then,” she said. “Duh.”
It was a seed planted that came to fruition a month later - when Remmy’s food cravings became unmanageable and his weight climbed past 360 - that he felt he would simply be more productive during his day job if his breaks to get food from the kitchen were shorter.
By November, whether he was high or not, Remmy was grazing all day, everyday. What Brianna got from the store became insufficient, and he started a habit of ordering take out most days. In big portions. His scale creaked at 375. When Brianna wasn’t home, he sometimes ate takeout on the scale to see if the number would rise.
On Remmy’s birthday in early December, Brianna made a fresh batch of his favorites again: the peanut butter cup edibles. After ordering pizza for delivery, she got in the shower, and Remmy scarfed down three of the big cups as soon as they cooled. Then he waited, leaning against the counter, scrolling on his phone, belly hanging, feet hurting. He didn’t want to go to the effort of sitting on the couch and getting back up again when he could just stay in the kitchen, where he knew he’d end up anyway.
He scratched his supple underbelly. Found a pack of Twizzlers and started eating those.
Soon enough, his breathing slowed as he felt the high slowly come over him. And, as expected, his whole body immediately began to tingle for satiation. Fattening food sung to him from the pantry and fridge and freezer all at once, and it was all going to make him so huge and heavy he wouldn’t be able to stand on his own wide feet, but he wanted it anyway.
He didn’t care if he was pushing 390 now. He’d blown up, yeah. Inflated from a thick guy to obese and waddling. At this point, he was so pumped so big with blubber that he couldn’t twitch without jiggling, but so what? He was hungry. Being high made him want to consume, and so he did. He couldn’t stop. Didn’t want to.
Remmy opened the fridge and took out his birthday cake, which Brianna must have stuck in there after getting home from work. He couldn’t wait to eat it properly. There was no way he could wait until after the pizza came. Besides, it was his birthday. Remmy took off the plastic lid of the round, triple chocolate cake and felt his nerves light up with anticipation. He was going to eat it all, and there was no stopping him.
He found a knife and cut himself a slice three times the size any reasonable person would take. Desperate to get the goodness into his mouth without delay, he skipped a fork and bit right into the gooey, dense cake and mouse and fudge. God, Brianna was so perfect for getting him the unhealthiest cake imaginable. She knew he didn’t care if he was ten pounds heavier tomorrow, if his fat ass ripped his sweatpants open, if he ate so much he couldn’t haul himself to bed—she knew he needed this.
He ate slice after slice, and it was mostly gone when Brianna got out of the shower, looking sexier than usual in her matching purple lingerie. She’d gotten chubbier with so much junk food in the apartment, and fat clung to her in all the right places. But her pudge was a far cry from his angry-red stretch marks and neck rolls. Hell, his moobs had grown bigger than her tits.
She found him in the kitchen, eating and holding his drooping belly, and she rubbed his back, cooing at him when he apologized.
“It’s okay. I figured you wouldn’t be able to wait all night. How are you feeling?”
“Good,” Remmy said, but all he could think about was getting his next bite. As she watched him, he tried to hold out. Tried to prove he could stop eating for two seconds. Three seconds, four - his resolve broke and he crammed the rest of a slice into his mouth and chewed, choking back a moan.
“You get the munchies so bad, don’t you?” Brianna grinned and leaned against his belly, patting and cupping his weighty breasts in the way she knew pleased him. “Let’s get you sat down. I’ll bring you what you need. Just sit and relax and watch whatever you want.” They moved to the couch and Remmy sat, the cushions wheezing, his thighs and belly quivering. Brianna tucked the remainder of the cake into his pudgy hands. “Don’t worry about a mess. It’s your birthday. And there’s more where that came from.” She winked. “I just needed to keep this cake refrigerated because it’s fancy. There’s a whole sheet cake on top of the fridge that’s cheap and huge. Covered in icing. Perfect for munchies.”
Remmy could only feel a wave of relief at this news. There would be more cake. And after that, there’d still be more junk in the cabinets. There was pizza coming. His high was just right. Brianna turned on the television to his favorite show and he settled further back into the cushions, feeling his second chin swell out and engulf his first. Everything was just right. He was lucky to have Brianna and food. So much food.
A year later, around the same time, Remmy skipped his usual trip to see his relatives for the holidays. At 520 pounds, it was simply too much effort to move.
*
Thank you to the reader who commissioned this work!
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