#I kinda wanna do it for some other fandoms but it takes so much storage space and effort
Note
I have been scouring this fucking app for Julian fics, never really occurred to I can just request some lol.
So yeah, if you're up for it I've got a little plot/trope set up that'd id love to see. Outsider(fem)reader/julian.
Something along the lines of a reader moving into the park from the southern us, new to Canada and parks in general. As an outsider, Julian expected you to be trouble or judgemental, so he acts like a dick to you at first. Later on, he starts to see instead how kind you are to everyone, understanding and totally up for doing ppl favors even when there's nothing for you in the end. This makes him feel real guilty for bein an ass to you, and also makes him start to feel other things towards u.. Take the fic in whatever direction you'd I wanna see u work ur magic
( + no pressure 2 write it ofc!!)
pairing: julian/fem!reader
fandom: trailer park boys
tags: smut (cis man/cis woman), fluff, a bit of angst, idk this is one of my more normal ones, heavy plot some porn (i kind of felt more plot focused with this one), julian is kind of hung (he gives me big dick energy)
author's note: i'm much more of a ricky kinda guy myself but when i got this request, i got really fucking excited. i loved the idea. i will say, this fic isn't structured traditionally. it's very dialogue heavy and kind of leaves some things up to the imagination. i wanted to establish relationships between the reader and other people in the park as well as share some of julian's private conversations about her. i'm really proud of the way this has turned out, though i'm sorry if it's not the interpretation you might have been hoping for (i'm a little insecure about the way i interpret storylines). i hope you like it, though. i worked hard on it and i'm pretty sure it's the longest julian/reader fic currently on the internet so i'm going to take that fucking win rn. also, i actually live in the southern united states. (fun fact: i'm looking to move because i'm a trans man and life here is kind of ass if you're trans), so i gave the reader a backstory that's kind of unique to what a woman in 1999-2000 would have gone through. i'm not satisfied with the ending though, i'm sorry if this fic is a little lackluster, but we can only go up from here i guess. text blocking this shit was a fucking BITCH.
word count: 6,442
everything i've ever let go of has claw marks on it.
The cultural climate of Sunnyvale Trailer Park wasn't exactly the most inviting. There were people who lived in the park and then there was everyone else. For the most part, newcomers never lasted more than a few weeks. The bottle kids drove away the weakest among them, but if those kids weren't effective usually Ricky's antics drove away the remaining lot. Sure, there were a few people here and there who moved in quietly, but those were usually the kind of people that minded their own business because lot rent was low enough for them to just ignore Lahey.
But in general, new people were not welcome. Especially know-it-all hipsters trying to live the simple life by casting away their possessions in an expensive storage unit and downsizing to a more humble trailer. Those were the kinds of guys that gave up quickly. Plus, new people threatened the balance of park politics. For the most part, Julian was well-liked and well-respected among the others due to his caring nature and dedication to his loved ones. He protected his own. And if there was one thing Julian didn't like, it was newcomers coming into the park without already knowing someone in it.
"Barb, I really think you should reconsider letting this girl in. I mean, you don't even know who she is."
"Julian, this is a business, not a family estate. Her credit was just below decent, she has an okay-paying job, and paid three months of rent in advance. From a business perspective, she seems like she'll be a reliable tenant. It's a good thing you've grown close with your community, but you have to remember at the end of the day, this trailer park is here to make money. Whatever fit of paranoia you're suffering through, deal with it on your own time. Next time you come here with a complaint, make sure it's a business one."
And just like that, Barb had shooed Julian off. What more could he say to that? Well, he had a lot more to say to that but she didn't want to listen. Every time he opened his mouth to speak, she only guided him further to the door. If Julian thought he was the one who ran this trailer park, he had another thing coming for him that's what. This dump needed more reliable tenants - normal folks who didn't like to get into trouble. Barb was trying to turn the park's image around.
"Julian, I just don't understand why you're so against this lady stayin' here. You know I'm no fan of newcomers myself, but she's been mindin' her own. She actually keeps her yard clean, which is pretty fuckin' nice if you ask me. It's nice to pass a yard that doesn't have a million fuckin' pieces of trash thrown all over the front. She even has one of those pink fuckin' yard flamingos in her yard. It's so bright and colorful. There ain't nothin' wrong with a little bit of color, Julian. Ain't nothin' wrong with a little bit of change."
"Are you even listening to yourself talk Bubbles? Can you hear what you're saying? You're saying change for this park is good. Who knows what she believes in. She might hate dope growers, she may be workin' with Lahey, she could get nosy and bust us for dope and you know Ricky and I are growin' a lot of dope -"
"- I know, I've seen that big fuckin' setup you got in that fuckin' trailer in that shitty little lot -"
"- so then Bubbles you should know that new people aren't good. We can't trust new people, especially not now. Especially not when we're so close to selling them to those prison guards and retiring. A stranger could compromise the whole thing. Remember those bible scammers that came through here? I've learned my lesson since then and I'm not tryna repeat old mistakes."
"Jesus Murphy Julian, you need to calm down. Those fuckin' assholes were obviously scammers, it's not like this lady is goin' door to door scammin' people."
"Sure maybe she's not taking advanced orders on bibles Bubbles, but she is goin' in and out of everyone's house doin' favors for them. Why does she need to see the inside of everyone's house? Do you think she's lookin' for something?"
"Have you ever stopped to think that maybe she's just a nice person doin' a nice thing? Nice people exist. You've been dealin' with dope and crime and jail so much that it's like you forgot how to trust someone. All you think about is dope and how you're going to protect it from everyone else."
"You're only defendin' her because she brings you boxes of canned cat foods for your cats. She's buyin' you off and you don't even know it."
"So what if she's helpin' me take care of my kitties? My kitties are the most important things to me and unlike you, she fuckin' knows that. If someone's offering to help take care of my precious little kitties, who the fuck am I to say no?"
"Bubbles, look -"
"No, no, nevermind." Bubbles tucks a gray cat further into his arms, his posture becoming more rigid. It's clear that he's done with the conversation, no longer interested in trying to hammer commonsense into Julian's brain. He couldn't see past his own paranoia and it was infuriating. In Julian's mind, everyone in the world was out to get him - even the nice lady across the street who helped his friend support his kitties. "You just don't get it, Julian. I'm goin' back home, come talk to me when you get it."
Julian was still convinced he was right about this girl. If the bottle kids didn't run you out, he'd just take matters into his own hands. He didn't care whether or not Bubbles helped. Julian was a man of many connections, and even if he couldn't find someone else to get the job done he had no qualms with taking care of the situation himself.
"I mean, if you think that lady's dangerous then you know I'm gonna follow you Julian 'cause you got the brains and stuff behind the projector, but I just gotta let you know I'm still workin' on my grade ten so whatever idea you have you got to make sure it's not illegal 'cause I can't go back to jail, not right before Trinity's birthday. That means we can't do any property damage or breaking and entering or any shit like that."
"I promise you Ricky we're not gonna go back to jail, we're just gonna annoy the shit out of her until she leaves. I was thinkin' maybe you and Cory and Trevor could host like a really loud party across the street tomorrow night, you know - something to keep her awake. If we get a noise complaint, we'll just shut it down, but then once the cops leave we'll start it back up again. We'll do this for a few nights until she finally decides to move out."
"That's a pretty fucking good idea, that's smart. Plus, since it's a party we can get drunk and high."
It's 2 a.m. and that fucking party is still going. There were several times you considered calling in a noise complaint but you decided that it was a better idea to just wait it out. It had to end at some point and overall, it was never a good idea to get involved with parties like that because sometimes they got out of a hand, and you were too smart to be in the wrong place at the wrong time.
Though when you stepped outside to 'check your mailbox' - spy on the party still going on into the early hours of the morning - you find yourself tripping over something. You stumble onto your hands and knees and it's only when you pull yourself up do you really get a good look at the man passed out by your mailbox. It's Ricky, and he's mumbling things almost incoherently. He mutters something about dope, bitches, Trinity, more bitches, Lucy, and good booze. It's a pathetic way to be, but you can't help but feel bad for you.
You use the toe of your shoe to rock his face awake. Ricky sputters before waking up in a drunk panic. He's angry and yelling incoherently, but your promise of a hot shower and a hot sandwich satiates his anger. He struggles his way through a shower, though almost slips a few times. He eats hand to mouth, chewing loudly, and drunk conversation ensues. He shares a lot with you - stuff he probably wouldn't have shared sober. He eventually passes out, not remembering much in the morning. That morning you share breakfast and a little bit about each other. He tried to hate you, he really did, but you were charismatic in a friendly way. There weren't any ulterior motives, you just enjoyed conversation.
"I don't know Julian, she seems fine to me. I mean, she's not all that bad. Her yard is pretty clean and you know, she has that pink little flamingo in her yard and honestly it's pretty fuckin' cute. I mean yeah she's kinda annoying and I hate that fuckin' southern fuckin' cowboy accent she fucking has but whatever. I think you're gettin' worked up over nothin'. You've been so busy tryna push out this lady who hasn't done nothin' wrong to you while I'm over here slavin' away watchin' after these fuckin' dope plants and tryin' to study for my grade ten all while play peepin' tom spy guy on some poor fuckin' lady."
"You're just saying that 'cause she let you spend the night and made you breakfast."
"You know what I sure as fuck I am! She made me breakfast and kept me from sleepin' on the fuckin' ground drunk as piss and let me use her shower and shit and I didn't even have to put out! It's not like I trust her or anything like that - I didn't talk about dope or nothin' like that at all." That was the truth. "It's just at this point anything is better than fucking Cory and Trevor. I'm not sayin' you gotta like her or trust her, but she's not all that bad Julian. Maybe if you actually got to fuckin' know her like I have you'd see that you're just being a paranoid dickbag."
"You know what Ricky, you don't anything about her. You're just seeing what she wants you to see. But I'm smart, so I see right through it -"
"Come on Julian don't be like that -"
"- and since nobody is going to take care of this fucking situation then I guess I'll have to."
Julian felt like everyone around him was failing him. Nobody else seemed to feel the same way he did about your existence in the trailer park. As each day passed, Julian grew more overtly snide. When approaching Ricky and Bubbles, Julian never took the time to acknowledge you. It was obvious that he was just being an ass, so you opted to ignore it, preferring not to fight. Silence was Julian's strongest weapon. But as the days ticked by, the tension between you and Julian only seemed to mount itself higher.
It's not like you inherently disliked Julian. In fact, you liked to believe that there was good in everyone and you prided yourself in your ability to be able to pull even the toughest people out of their shell. However, Julian was no easy project. Every time you tried to approach him, he simply brushed you off. You weren't even sure that the two of you had even exchanged any greetings. He hadn't even said hello. So when trying to talk to him didn't work, you simply tried to stay out of his way. This was frustrating for Julian because what he wanted you to do was to blow up and make it a big ordeal. But you didn't. You simply kept to yourself and resumed helping others around the park without complaints.
There were times where Julian thought about approaching you in the way Julian thinks about approaching any pretty thing in a summer dress that talks to him. But he remains strong in the face of adversity. Gone were the days of chasing anything in a dress. He had a dope business to worry about.
But sometimes the thought would creep up onto Julian ever so slowly. Sometimes, he'd get this kind of fantasy in his head - especially on the Sunday afternoons you'd spend gently pushing yourself back and forth in your rocking chair, enjoying the summer sunlight. He could think of a million ways you two could enjoy the afternoon together, but he often pushed the thought out of his head. He had a park to protect. Friends to protect.
"You know, you have some real nerve comin' up here in this trailer park and putting on a show like you're doing."
You look up from the rocking chair you were gently pushing yourself back and forth in and offer Julian a small smile.
"So you're Julian?"
Julian can't help but be a bit enamored with your slight southern drawl. It sounds like you're somewhere from the deep southern United States - one of those more rural provinces like Texas or Alabama. He can't quite pinpoint the accent, but he secretly finds it endearing.
"And how do you know that?"
"I mean, with how much you do for the people here it's kind of hard not to know who you are. Plus, Ricky and Lucy both never seem to shut up about you. You know, if I didn't know any better I'd say they're both in love with you or something. Also, yesterday you came to pick up Ricky and he pointed right at you and said well, there's Julian, see ya later. I just put two and two together."
"I'm not here to make small talk, (name)."
"Then what are you here to do, Julian?"
There's silence. What is he here to do. There wasn't anything that he could reasonably do and he wasn't the terrorizing type if he didn't have to be. Fuck, he had even promised that his greasy trouble-causing days were over. But here he was, standing at the edge of the patio stairs, contemplating whether or not he should threaten a woman.
"I'm just here to ask you about your intentions with Ricky, that's all."
You can't help but laugh out loud at the comment. "Oh, please. There's nothing going on between us."
Julian knows that because if there was something going on between you and Ricky, Ricky wouldn't shut up about it and the whole park would know. But he's trying to be covert about his intent to interrogate you.
"Yeah, well . . . there better not be . . . Ricky's a good guy and I'd really hate to see him get hurt . . ."
"Why are you really here, Julian?"
Julian stands in silence, thoughtfully cradling his glass in his hand as he tries to come up with a clever lie - but it's hard to think when he catches a glimpse of your thighs pressed together underneath your thin summer dress. He squints and then looks away briefly.
"I just wanted to stop by and tell you more about the culture of Sunnyvale. You know, we're really tight-knit. Like family."
"I know."
"And you know, family protects family."
"I know."
"And you know, I'd do anything for my family."
"I know."
"Anything."
"What are you getting at?"
"I'm not getting at anything, (name). I'm just givin' you a little more info about our park, just trying to get acquainted with you."
"Oh, you're trying to get acquainted with me? This is the first time I've spoken to you in the month I've been living here."
"Well, you know, I was busy with the business I'm running -"
"- that lawn mowing business you and Ricky got?"
Is that what Ricky is calling it? "Yeah, we've had a lot of customers so I've been having to do a lot of bookwork to keep up with the business you know. But it's been busy, so I haven't had time to talk, but now I do and I want to get to know you."
"You want to get to know me?"
"That's what I just said isn't it?"
"Well I'll tell you what Julian," You push the chair backwards in thought, looking up at the bright summer sky. The sun shines in your face, warming your skin. It's a nice feeling. "If you really want to get to know me, you'll come over for dinner tonight."
Julian wasn't going to admit it but he was excited at the prospect of dinner. The last time he shared time - much less a meal - with a woman, she ended up stealing his dope plants and lying to him about being in love. In all fairness, most people would have been wary of someone saying I love you within the first week of getting to know them, but Julian (for the most part) was a hopeless romantic. He liked the idea of a life with someone else.
Julian told himself that this was strictly business - that he was here to set the record straight. This wasn't get-to-know-you dinner, this wasn't a date. He was just here to let you know that he wasn't going to tolerate funny business. He just happened to be wearing his nicest clean black shirt and he just happened to be wearing one of his nicer pair of jeans - the ones that didn't have the holes in them. Julian knocks on your door. The two minutes he waits for you to answer feels like an eternity but when you open the door, he's glad he's waited.
"You got a hot date you're going to after this?"
"What, this?" You look down at the pink summer dress you're wearing, "This is casual." You had always been the more feminine type, enjoying softer clothes and pretty dresses. Plus, unlike jeans dresses were more comfortable. You usher him inside and he obliges, being careful to not spill his drink when he steps in.
"Dinner is served." Dinner being a massive fucking bowl of macaroni and cheese with cheap ass hot dogs. "Sorry it's not exactly the best, but -"
"It's fine, don't worry about it." Julian sets his glass down. He's actually ecstatic. Macaroni and cheese and fucking hotdogs? "You know, I don't know where you're from but around here this is a five-star meal."
You give a dry laugh. as Julian picks up his fork to eat. "You'll have to forgive me, I'm kind of new to the whole trailer park life and the whole being poor thing."
"Oh yeah? Where are you from?"
"Southern United States."
"What state?"
"Texas."
"That's a long way from here, basically on the other side of the continent. Why'd you come up this way?" Julian tells himself that he's not trying to get to know you because he's interested in you - he's trying to get to know you to get dirt on you, to know what he's up against.
"I needed an abortion." You answer dryly, "And even though it's been legal for some years now, no physician was wiling to perform one on me."
"Why come to Nova Scotia? Why not just go to another state?"
"Well, I figured things were just better here than they were there. Don't get me wrong, it's not perfect by any means but it's better than where I was from. At least here I know if I need the service again, it's a little more reliably accessible. Plus, it's not like I had anywhere or anyone I could turn to. So I just kind of . . . stayed."
"Heavy stuff." Julian sets down his fork, "Didn't have any family to turn to?"
"No, and even if I did they're not the kind of people I'd want to be around."
Julian could relate to that.
"So you just came to Canada for an abortion and then decided to stay? You know, when Americans come to Canada they want to go to Quebec. Nova Scotia isn't exactly on the top of the list, let alone Dartmouth. Let alone fucking Sunnyvale Trailer Park. Nobody just moves in here. Come on, (name) . . . what's the real reason why you're staying here?"
Your mouth runs dry as you consider answering him honestly. "Well, uh . . . you know . . ." You twiddle your thumbs a bit, "I came to Canada with my passport and got my abortion and then . . . I just uh . . ." There's a long pause as your appetite disappears completely. "I didn't have anywhere to go to so I just . . . never left . . . this place was the only place that'd rent to an illegal resident . . ."
"Holy fuck you don't have your papers?" Julian wasn't sure what kind of story he was expecting but it wasn't that. Now he feels like an asshole. "How did you get a job? How did you even afford this place?"
"Well, I had some savings so that was a good cushion, but when that ran out I was able to find a job working as a waitress at that little restaurant just out of town. I'm not technically on the payroll, they just don't make me report my tips, and any extra money is kind of . . . earned under the table." You respond sheepishly.
God, Julian feels like such a fucking jackass for being a raging asshole to you.
"That's . . . hard." Julian doesn't really know what else to say.
"Yeah."
"Well, I've shared my deepest darkest secret with you. Do you want to share anything with me?"
You and Julian talk well into the early hours of the morning, swapping life stories, funny anecdotes, and talking about all of the small things in between. Honestly, he feels at ease with you in a way he hasn't felt at ease before. The conversation flows naturally and even the silence you occasionally fall into feels comfortable. It's nearly two in the morning when you both look at the small clock hanging on your wall and realize the time.
". . . well, it's a little late . . ." You stretch in your chair, still sitting across the table from Julian. You don't really want him to go, but you've both run out of things to talk about and you still have some errands you have to run before work tomorrow. "You know, I have some things I gotta do tomorrow . . . but if you're feeling nice, maybe you can pay me back for dinner by making some for me. I'm usually too tired to cook when I get home . . . you know, only if you want to."
It's hard for Julian to say no to that face.
"What time do you get off work?"
. . .
Julian continues to insist that he doesn't feel some kind of way, that he's just taking the opportunity to really get to know you - you know, in case you ever pose a threat - but the nightly dinner-dates seem to differ.
"Why is it so hard to admit that you have a hard-on for (name)? It's so fucking obvious."
"It's not like that Ricky. You know, I have somewhere to be so why don't you just fuck off and give me some fucking space?"
"Oh yeah I know exactly where you want to be, all up in -"
The truth of the matter was that even though Julian fantasized about it at night, truly nothing had happened. You were sweet, kind, intelligent, patient, compassionate - a truly wonderful person. And that was the problem. Normally, Julian found himself happy to jump into a relationship, but he found himself afraid of making a fool of himself. Guys like him didn't get with girls like you. Simple as that. Besides, love just wasn't in the cards for Julian. It just never worked out like that.
Tonight was yet another night of disappointment. You had lingered on Julian's doorstep after dinner, hoping that maybe he'd make a move and at least give you a kiss goodnight - but the two of you simply stood there awkwardly until he nodded, saying he was probably going to go off to bed now. It was frustrating because you thought you were sending all of the right signals. Light touches, flirtatious giggles, risque comments - the works. But yet again, you find yourself leaving empty-handed. It wasn't that you weren't satisfied with the friendship, you really liked the dynamic the two of you had. You liked that Julian showed you ways to save money, ways to spruce up the trailer home so it felt more roomy, showed you around town a bit - but it left you feeling a bit stupid because you could have sworn the two of you had something more. You could just feel it. But he never addressed it and it drove you crazy.
You knock on the door nervously, your hands shaking.
Julian answers the door again. "What's going on?"
"I don't want to go home just yet. This is about the time J-Roc films his adult films. Can I just sit here for thirty more minutes? He usually finishes up around one in the morning or so."
"Uh, yeah, sure, come on in. You can hang out here. I have to shower because, you know, I got somewhere to be in the morning -" Tomorrow was the day he was supposed to drop off the product with the prison guards, "- normally I'd wait up but I got some important stuff I gotta take care of tomorrow. I'm about to get ready for bed, so you can just leave whenever you're ready."
"Alright."
You find yourself sitting awkwardly on the couch as Julian disappears into the bathroom. The trailer shakes a bit when he turns on the water and you can hear the pipes rush before the water falls like rain into the tub. You sit in silence and contemplate. You couldn't keep going back and forth like this, it'd get nowhere. He had hinted a few times at maybe having feelings. Sometimes his hand would linger on the small of your back too long when he was moving past you, or he'd stand too close to you - so close your shoulders would touch - whenever he got the chance. But nothing would ever come of it, and you were tired of it. You think about maybe joining him in the shower but that's too ballsy of a move, so you simply sit there and listen to the shower run until it's turned off. There's more shuffling and you can hear him go into his room. The hallway light turns off and the door clicks close. You should probably get going by now, but you can't bring yourself to just leave.
. . .
You feel like a psychopath drifting down the hallway. You only came down here to use the bathroom, but now you were standing at his bedroom door - contemplating whether or not you should knock on the door.
Knock. Knock. Knock.
"Ricky, is that you? I told you to stop picking my fucking lock -"
"No," You answer meekly, "It's me. I uh, wanted to take that book back I lent you before I went home. I didn't see it in your living room so I figured you might be keeping it in here."
Julian stares up at the ceiling in thought. Julian is pretty book-smart and it doesn't take a genius to know the game you're running. He's been down this road a thousand times. He wants to say yes, but there's still the lingering fear of ruining the good friendship that's already there.
Julian turns his head to look at his nightstand, the small paperback book sat there. Shit, maybe you weren't playing any games.
"Yeah, give me a moment, I'll come bring it to you."
"You don't have to go through that trouble, I'll just come get it real quick . . . if that's alright with you."
". . . that's alright with me."
You gently push the door open, slipping through before gently closing the door behind you. You can only see the outline of Julian's body in the dark, a few shadows illuminated by the moonlight that drifts in through the blinds.
"It's right over here." You see the shadow of Julian's hand reach over and grab the thick book. Infinite Jest.
"I'll come get it." You pull yourself up onto the bed, you're knees on either side of his feet. Gently, you shimmy your way up, crawling over him on your hands and knees. Julian shifts a bit. Both of your breaths are heavy and as you sit yourself comfortably on his waist, you watch his chest rise and fall with heavy breaths. Gently, you pluck the book from his hand. "Thank you."
"You're welcome." Julian's voice is barely over a whisper.
You thumb through the thick book, landing on a page barely illuminated by the moonlight, reading the page you've thumbed to. "Everything I've ever let go of has claw marks on it." Truer words have never been spoken. Like everything in life, Julian has sunk his fingernails so deep into it he's drawn blood. He likes to pretend he can let things go, but he can't.
Julian's hands gently grip at your hips, squeezing them softly - almost like he's afraid that if he squeezes too tight he'll hurt you. His fingers grip at your waist, gently pushing your hips backwards, guiding them in a gentle rocking motion against him. Your hips follow the movement of his hands, rocking against him with a pleased hum.
"Is that right?" Julian asks in a whisper.
"That's right." You respond gently.
"Me included?" He can't hope that you want him so bad that you'd sink your nails so deep into him that he'd never be able to leave you, even if he wanted to. And even if you wanted to leave him, he'd probably stay around and beg for you to take him back anyway.
"If you'll let me."
If he wasn't rock hard before he's rock fucking hard now. "I want you." Julian's voice is hoarse, completely contradicting his typically firm and masculine present. He melts under you. Whether he wanted to believe it or not, Julian was a romantic and the touch of a woman he really valued meant a lot to him. His breath is labored as he guides your hips against him, "Please, I want you."
If this were someone else in the park, it'd be a different story. Sleeping around with people in the park for Julian wasn't about emotions, it was about releasing a physical need, and when you can't keep a boyfriend sometimes you have to turn to your neighbors for some help. Everyone slept with everyone. But you're not them, this isn't just casual for Julian - he doesn't want to fuck it up. He shudders when your fingertips drag across his chest, tracing patterns and circles into his shirt as you rock against him, grinding your hips downwards to create more friction. You're a tease, you take your time, and he hates it but he loves it. Two large hands reach up to cup your breasts over your shirt gently, His hands trail downwards, over your abdomen, grabbing gently at your stomach for a short moment before finding themselves at the hem of your shirt.
"What are you waiting for?" You ask him between small breaths, still making rhytmic riding motions. It's a softly-asked question but also a plea for action. "Please, Julian. I've wanted this since the moment I saw you."
"God, fuck you're so fucking hot." It's like a flip switched in his head and he can't hold himself back anymore. Strong hands placed firmly on your hips flip you onto your back. Now he's on top of you, every part of him everywhere. His lips touch yours in a kiss, teeth pull at the skin of your neck, and tongue sooths the freshly bruised areas by rubbing itself on it in small circles. Like always, he can't help himself, and unlike recently, he stops wasting time.
Your shirt is the first thing to come off - Julian helps shimmy it off of you, throwing it to the side. The next thing to come off is your pajama pants, which he also tosses to the side after helping shimmy it off of you. He has half a mind to compliment the pretty color of your underwear and tell you it looks good on you, but he doesn't pay it any mind since it's about to come off anyways. His hands lift you up by the small of your back just long enough for him to unclasp your bra, letting you fall back down onto the bed. His hands hook underneath your knees, lifting them up and pushing your legs up so he can help slide your underwear easily off of your body. You're left naked under him while he remains fully clothed, lowering himself onto you before you can complain that he hasn't undressed yet.
His thumbs roll against your nipples, gently pinching and pulling at them before taking them into his mouth. Julian has never been the most gentle lover, especially when he gets excited, always eager to take matters into his own hands - but that's part of his appeal.
Kisses trail down your stomach, followed by him dragging his tongue along the skin, pushing your legs apart. He takes his time adorning your inner thighs with kisses, sucking on the skin and taking it between his teeth. He likes the way he makes you whimper and moan, it's intoxicating. But eventually the teasing becomes too much even for him, he's growing impatient, so he lends his tongue to you, circling it around your clit, strong nose pressed into sensitive skin.
Your body writhes as you feel a familiar pressure build in your abdomen, thighs tightening around his head so tight he thought he might suffocate. What a way to go that would be. Your fingers curl into his short hair, gripping and pulling at his hair while your toes curl. You whimper but that only encourages him to slowly push his thick index finger into you, followed by a second after you properly adjusted. His mouth and fingers work in tandem, his fingers curling and pressing inside of you in a come hither motion while his tongue continues to stroke your clit.
"Fuck, Julian, god, fuck -" But before you can climax, he's gone - pulling away. If Julian enjoys anything, it's edging. There's just something about bringing a woman to climax and leaving them nearly in tears that turns him on.
"You look disappointed." Julian catches a glimpse of your lopsided frown illuminated in the moonlight, "Don't worry, I'll take care of it." His shirt is pulled over his head, exposing his bare chest. When you touch the muscle, it's firm from years of consistent working-out. You trace a tattoos that look like they were done with a sewing needle and ink - probably stick and poke tattoos - but Julian frowns. He doesn't like those tattoos, he's not proud of them and he's not proud of his time spent in jail. But you only offer him an encouraging smile and place your palm over the tattoo before dragging your hand down to his belt, pulling at the buckle. Julian offers you a half-hearted smile. "Can't wait?"
Julian pushes your hand out of the way gently, taking his time to unfasten his belt and slowly pulling it through the loops. The belt is tossed to the side, along with his pants and underwear, leaving you both equals. Two hands hook themselves underneath your knees, placing your ankles on his shoulders while he uses his right hand to stroke his cock a bit, helping to harden himself up more. Sometimes the nerves just get to you.
"Holy fuck Julian you're big, you gotta be careful with that thing you're carrying a whole fucking concealed weapon -"
Julian chuckles a bit at the comment but presses a gentle kiss to your ankles. "I'll be careful with you if that's what you're trying to say."
The tip is pushed in slowly with great discomfort, pushing himself in. There's a stiff moment of silence as you let out a labored breath.
"You good?" he asks.
You nod, dragging your teeth over your bottom lip. Julian takes his thumb against your bottom lip, peeling it out from underneath your teeth. His thumb drags your bottom lip down, exposing the inside of it before pushing his thumb into your mouth. Your lips wrap around his thumb, letting your tongue slide against the skin, sucking on the appendage as he pulls out just a bit, repositioning himself before he thrusts back in. Your body pushes upwards with the motion, head pressing against the headboard slightly. His thumb is still pressed in your mouth while his free hand keeps hooked underneath your knee, pushing it backwards so he can angle himself better - each thrust pushing itself deeper inside of you. Sweat coats his chest and runs down the side of his face, abdomen flexing the closer he gets to coming, but he restrains himself - wanting to ride it out for as long as he could.
"Fuck, fuck, fuck."
"Oh, God, Julian -"
"Fuck, (name)."
"Julian -"
"(Name), (Name), (Name)."
"I heard you did a real good job of running that girl out of the trailer park last night, Julian."
"Hey, Barbara, why don't you fuck off?"
#julian tpb#tpb julian#tpb ricky#trailer park boys#tpb#ricky lafeur#julian x reader#julian x reader tpb#tpb bubbles#tpb ricky and julian#ricky tpb#julian x you tpb#trailer park boys reader insert#tpb reader insert
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In my previous post, I talked about the games I’m currently playing. In this post, I’m gonna talk about the games I want to play.
If only I could just play all of them without caring, but reality is never kinder. I will have to ponder long and hard on which games should take precedence for me to try.
1️⃣ Ni no Kuni: Cross Worlds
(Picture Source: Ni no Kuni official webpage thru Google Image Search)
Ni no Kuni is an MMORPG which uses inspired characters from Studio Ghibli in the game. The game looks absolutely beautiful and it makes me wanna try it.
(Picture Credit: Nintendo Everything)
In order to save the storage space on my phone, I decided to download the PC version which they have. The bonus part is that you don’t have to download some emulator to play.
But, when I got to the download page...
I was quite put off by the word “Beta” being there because it seems to be saying that it’s not fully functional on PC. At least, that’s the message I’m getting. Hence, I decided to wait a while and my assignments came in. Coincidentally a good timing for me to wait it out. But when I went back again today, it was still written there “Beta”.
I know a lot of other players download the PC version and seemingly does not have any issues with it. But I don’t want to take my chances because I still need my laptop for school work.
Welp, I guess I have to download it onto my phone if I ever want to try it out.
2️⃣ Tower of Fantasty
This game was finally released globally and it is currently the only game anyone is ever talking about. There’s bound to be some slander to the game about the developers copying everything from Genshin Impact.
(Picture Credit: Polygon)
I usually don’t mind characters’ movements in the game because there’s a limit to how much you can create movements from scratch. There’s definitely bound to be some similarity in movements as long as you don’t nit-pick and scrutinize frame by frame.
Seeing the screenshot above, I’d say it’s Genshin-inspired since the game is still one of the most popular games to date. I have also seen on my TikTok feed of people quitting Tower of Fantasy but reasons are unknown to me.
Although I do take into account of the reviews, I’m not one to look at one side of the story. Perhaps it’s just their preferences and may be I will like it. It was the same with Honkai Impact where everybody said that they love it but it was kinda boring to me (personal preferences, people, personal preferences).
I will probably take a look at Tower of Fantasy but I’m not feeling optimistic since most of the gameplay is cyber-ish. Hopefully it will be a good game to play when I’m bored of Genshin.
3️⃣ Neir Reincarnation
(Picture Source: Neir wiki fandom)
I DID download the game and I DID play it for a while. But right now, I’m having second thoughts about it.
First of all, the Nier series is super long. Second, THERE WAS NO FREAKING TUTORIAL ON HOW TO DO THE BATTLE! I almost died in the first story.
I’m quite inclined to just uninstall it and watch it on YouTube instead like how I have always done with the Drakengard and Nier series. So, yep, I would probably do that (please don’t hate me).
4️⃣ Arknights
I did play Arknights previously but felt that with all the juggling of my then active Genshin, I couldn’t handle Arknights. But now that Genshin is more of when I feel like picking it up to play, I can probably spend a bit more time looking into this game,
I may start it brand new since my previous progress wasn’t much. Moreover, I was still in the tutorial stage so I guessed I could try recording my game progress right from the beginning again. Think that would be lovely.
Guess what I really need to catch on in this game is the mechanics and put on my thinking cap for strategic purposes.
-------------------------------------------------
There’s still a whole ton of other games I want to try (I have a whole list of it) but this will have to do for now. Until I drop a few or it became super inactive (like Genshin), I may probably visit a few more.
#ni no kuni#nino kuni#ni no kuni cross worlds#tower of fantasy#nier series#nier reincarnation#arknights#yukihime's gaming updates
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Ttile: Echoed Vexations (Part One, part two linked)
Fandom: Hermitcraft
Rating: Teen and up audiences (violence warning)
AO3: here! (Full story at once)
•••
Plot Summary:
It's all too easy to turn a blind eye to the past-- to believe that because someone has been shielded from harm's way, they should no longer fear the wrath of their opponent's creed. They're safe now, after all, so why would they..?
Yes, Scar and Cub are certainly "safe", but they're still haunted by memories of the Vex and their deals all the same.
OR
An average afternoon during the HCB Base Swap is cut short when Mumbo accidentally digs up a remnant from Scar's Vex partnership days, and unfortunately for the town's mayor, the other Hermit is far from aware just how triggering the topic can truly be. Things only dissolve from there, and in the end, Grian lends a helping hand to console a friend.
•••
Additional Content Warnings:
Depictions of trauma disorders, panic attacks, flashbacks, paranoid thoughts/delusions, manipulation, gaslighting, threats, injury, and violence. Mentions of religious themes, unintentional self-harm, and non-permanent character death.
Do be careful, but otherwise, enjoy!
•••
The sun was still high in the sky even as Scar finished decorating the monument's support chains, sweltering rays beaming down and adding to the oppressive humidity of the jungle around him. With his usual jacket set aside to fight the heat, he wiped away the beads of sweat that had gathered on his forehead and grabbed a stray bucket from the sidelines. He'd nearly finished the waterfall aspect of the design-- crystal blue streams cascading over the edges of four white spanners, all joining together in the octagonal pool at the base's foundation. It was looking quite spectacular, if he were to say so himself, with the vine-coiled braces and additional water currents tying the otherwise juxtaposing themes together nicely.
Scar scooped up a fresh pail of water, filling it to the brim and hauling it towards the last pillar. He glanced down at the container as he carried it, catching a glimpse of his reflection from the liquid inside. His face shone red with effort, misplaced strands of hair having clung themselves to his tan skin.
Though unsurprised, he still couldn't help but laugh at the rippling image. "It's just my luck I'd swap with another jungle dwelling Hermit. I swear, I can never escape this climate for long. First the island last year, then all this."
With a shake of his head he returned his gaze upwards, continuing to muse aloud to the landscape before him, "You tropics are wonderful and all, but it sure would've been a nice change of pace to set up camp in somewhere like the mountains. Or pull total 180 and have landed in the tundras!"
Concepts for each design raced through his head, each idea fighting the others for dominance and tacking details onto itself, trying to land its place on the metaphorical pedestal of his imagination. A cottage with medieval influences? No, that would be far too typical, amp both of those components up. An entire village with a steampunk driven aesthetic, built into the mountainscape itself; no doubt with custom terraforming to integrate the buildings into the natural environment. That was more like it.
Scar could envision working windmills and waterwheels accompanying purposefully makeshift farmlands, historic blimps having reclaimed skies where they'd soar high overhead. Below them, eye-catching pops of colour, shining through as floating lanterns that hover above connective rope bridges.
As for the arctic concept? Something more grand would be ideal. In his fantasy, he'd created an absolute oxymoron of the words cabin and mansion jumbled together, and he adored it that way. A bottom floor made of bricked stone, the top made of logs and large windows to oversee the view. Accompanying them in the same manner would be a balcony, propped on columns that hugged the building and curved around its corners. The top deck would be open for clear days, and the space below it safe on harsher ones. Sloped roofs would be adorned with chimneys, and the interior warmed by cozy flames that were kept organized with inviting lofts. The living area could be split leveled, sinking down to create its own margin where guests could comfortably gather by the fireplace and--
There was a tug at his ankle, and next thing he knew, a bemused Scar went crashing to the ground, having been too caught up to notice the trailing plants blocking his footway. His hands shot out to catch himself, palms scraping against the concrete floor in a way similar to the childhood stunt of crashing and burning on the pavement. A stinging snapped up his arms, and the water bucket dropped from his grasp, clattering down with a metallic rumble before spilling its contents across the floor.
Scar pushed himself upright with a hiss of air through his teeth, shaking off his grazed palms and wiping them on his jeans. Pulling his foot free from the greenery and gathering himself up was no problem, what was a problem, however, was the troubling sight now before him.
The water had spilled all over one of Mumbo's redstone contraptions, causing the device to short circuit and emit a sort of maroon-grey smoke. The wires fashioned from the compacted dust had been all but washed away, any remaining pieces hanging on by threads and failing miserably whenever a signal attempted to fire; more so sizzling rather than surging alight with energy.
"Oh, crud!" he shouted, racing towards the machine and yanking on the shut-off switch to divert any further input from the broken setup.
It powered down, but Scar was still left swatting the coloured smoke from his face, coughing as the scent of burnt metallics filled his nostrils. When had he gotten so absorbed in possible building opportunities that he'd managed to miss the foliage in front of him? Why had he even been wondering so deeply about it, anyway? This event was about improving one another's bases by adding their own personal touches, not starting a new project entirely.
Scar sighed, he wasn't sure why his mind had begun drifting so far. He'd like to blame it on the wild imagination of a builder, but he had a feeling there was a little more to it. Sometimes, when the world wasn't too much to handle, it was too easy to let fall away. Maybe he spent too much time daydreaming-- he was sure there was a word for that, when trances became so all encompassing, so engrossing.
"But I don't have time to think about that right now," he reminded himself, "I really need to fix this. It doesn't look like most of this redstone is salvageable, I'll have to get new supplies to repair it. Maybe some of the circuits are okay..?"
Scar nudged a repeater with his shoe, the device making an unnatural sloshing noise in his attempt to change the feed-in. He scrunched up his nose, "Okay, nope, gonna need to replace that, too."
Running a hand through his hair in defeat, he glanced towards Mumbo's storage system before shaking his head. It wouldn't be right to use the other man's supplies without asking, let alone waste them on a mistake made due to Scar's own carelessness. He'd have to make his way back to his original base and gather the materials from there once more. When he dropped by initially, he figured he'd gotten everything he needed, but apparently hadn't accounted for dissociation-induced redstone mishaps.
"I guess we're making a trip back," Scar announced to no one, finally picking up the empty bucket to set it safely aside. He made his way over to his tent, temporarily discarding any excess materials and bidding adieu to Jellie before grabbing his elytra and setting off.
Taking to the skies, Scar squinted against the wind as it roared in his ears. His hair parted itself from where it had stuck, short locks brushed back by the flowing breeze. With arms extended for balance, and maybe a dash of amusement, he lit his rockets and propelled himself into the distance.
-----
It wasn't long before he encroached on his base again, allowing his faux wings to glide him downward where he kicked out his legs to come to a soft landing. Scar stopped before the massive drill site just on the outskirts of the forest, heading towards the agglomeration of crates and boxes he had haphazardly stowed aside. He was certain there had to be the necessary hardware in one of the many containers, though which that may be was lost on him. At least, thanks to Mumbo and his new storage system, the chest monster he'd created would soon be a thing of the past.
"I wonder how that's going for him..." Scar pondered, striding over to a random shulker and beginning his sure-to-be protracted search.
"Scar?" a familiar voice interrupted, making him peer ahead to see the moustached man himself rounding the corner. "Hello there! I see you've made yourself rather at home at my base," Mumbo teased.
He couldn't help but chuckle, "That I have. I just needed to stop by and pick up some redstone and iron. With all the ore this place has quarried up, I was sure there's bound to be more of that here than back at Larry."
Mumbo faked surprise with a hearty grin, "Getting into mechanics, are we? Have the inner workings of the temple really had that much influence on you after only a few days?"
"Now I wouldn't say that," Scar shook his head and closed the lid of the grey shulker, seeing no point in hiding the truth. "I took a tumble holding a bucket of water and it kinda spilled on one of the contraptions. I'm sorry for the trouble-- but don't worry! I came here to fix it right up. I just didn't wanna waste your materials fixing my silly error."
The suited man waved his hand dismissively, "Nonsense, it's no trouble. Have you seen the improvements you've made to that place? I mean, of course you've seen them, you built them, but rhetorically speaking--" Mumbo cleared his throat, "Just don't fret over it, I trust that you'll have it fixed right up in no time."
Scar smiled, "Thanks, dude. Now I just have to find where on Earth I put those ore…"
Mumbo gave another laugh, "You know, you can feel free to use some of my things if need be. I have no idea how you expect to find anything in this mess. I'm only trying to do a basic look through so I know where to begin when it comes to the item sorter, but even that doesn't seem to do much good. I swear, it's like trying to play a very intense game of memory, with thousands of nonsensical cards all scattered about."
Scar snickered sheepishly at the comparison, "Yeah, no kidding. But being able to use some resources without flying all the way over here would be great. Thanks again, Mumbo. I don't know if there's anything you'll need here while working, but hey, consider it free range. We're doing these things for each other in the long run, anyway."
"I'd say, 'unless we don't switch back our deeds', but in all honesty? I'm beginning to miss the ol' living monument already."
The two exchange a chuckle before returning to their previous tasks, both going back to digging through the pile of chests in preparation for their projects.
It took longer than Scar wanted to admit to finally find the crate stocked with valuables-- sighing in relief at the sight and immediately beginning to pile the items into his inventory. There were pre-smelted metals from an iron farm, so he didn't have to bother with the ore, and the redstone he'd gathered was already in dust from, meaning all he'd have to do was craft the items after returning.
"I wonder if it would've been easier to stop by the shopping district and buy these directly, instead of making them by hand..." he said, "Oh well, saves on diamonds, and these had to be used some time, I guess."
"Talking to yourself over there?" Mumbo asked.
"Just thinking aloud is all."
"I see," the moustached man nodded, pushing himself up from where he'd been examining the supplies. "I found something neat from last year! Do you wanna see?"
"Sure!" Scar agreed, setting aside his intent of flying back in favour of seeing what it was Mumbo had to show him.
He smiled and stepped over to Scar, holding out a faded piece of paper for them both to see, "I found it stuck to the bottom of a shulker box! Can you believe we used to be competition so recently?" He joked.
Scar could only stare at the advert before him, a steele blue page embellished with a vault-like ring in the center. It meant nothing to the untrained eye, but to him, all of the company's horrors were sealed underneath. ConCorp read bold text in half-connected lettering, the logo finalizing its signature with a black bow tie adorning the bottom.
"Hardly," managed Scar, having just remembered he'd been asked a question, "But it wasn't that recent."
"It was practically yesterday if we're talking business," Mumbo snickered, "but we aren't. I'm not very good at business."
"Me neither, I prefer mayorship," he said in an attempt to change the subject.
Mumbo, however, didn't seem to notice, only turning to stare at Scar with eyes wide. "Are you kidding me? You were quite literally the richest Hermit of all last year! You're wonderful at business. Sahara was amazing, and I don't for a second doubt it was the most ambitious project of our group to date, but she had plenty of bugs, being the machine powered industry that she was. ConCorp, however? That was an utter monopoly! The thing lasted two bloody seasons!"
Scar chuckled awkwardly, "I know, I know, Cub and I worked very hard. But it wasn't all us, we couldn't have done it alone."
"Give yourself more credit," Mumbo insisted, "I'm more than convinced you could have gotten your business up and running even without the help of your Vex friends. Weren't they less prominent in your company last year, anyway? You did change your guy's name from ConVex to ConCorp, after all. I think that would imply less input on their part."
"Not really," he explained, though the tension building in his body was becoming harder to conceal. He had to keep his arms rigid so that they wouldn't shake, forcing in deep breaths to avoid the shaky ones that threatened to take their place. "We just thought it would be better for business, rebranding to something more gentlemanly and all."
Mumbo nodded, "Ah, that makes sense. Though I still don't understand how you managed to work with them to begin with. I likely wouldn't believe it if I hadn't seen it with my own two eyes. I mean business partners with the Vex? Friends, even? How'd you do it? Not to mention why? With all due respect, what makes one seek that out?"
Scar blinked hard at the influx of questions, "Oh, it's- it's really complicated, you might not understand. Cub started it, though. I joined the team not long after, but I wasn't there when he first struck the deal with Them."
"Huh, some deal," Mumbo remarked thoughtfully, and Scar nodded.
He had no idea.
"So what made you leave that behind?" Mumbo continued.
"What?" he asked, finding his thoughts hazy. They were static nothingness, but somehow also crashing into his skull. He found himself having to dig his way through them, while at the same time trying to bury them once he passed. The last thing Scar wanted was to do was hark back to the Vex, to beckon forth Their memory with his own.
The other man simply chuckled, oblivious to Scar's inner turmoil. "ConCorp, the Vex. Did you two just get bored? Having done the same thing for too long?"
"In a sense, you could definitely say we were tired of it. It just- well, it wasn't what we wanted to do anymore. We wanted to move on to new things."
"That's fair enough. Do you blokes still get along? Or did they take the corporation's end like a sour breakup?"
This time, Scar couldn't contain his wince. "We're still friends!" he insisted, "Of course the Vex are my friends."
Mumbo finally quirked a brow, "Are you sure about that? You don't have to worry about hiding some burnt corporal bridges from me, I'm not here to judge."
"Oh yeah, I'm positive," he nodded eagerly, "I'm just- I'm gonna go work on fixing that contraption I damaged, best to get it fixed before we have to switch back."
"Buddy, are you sure everything's alright? I'm sorry if I upset you or anything."
"Nah, I'm just peachy!" Scar announced with far too much false enthusiasm, internally cringing at his failed masking abilities. Not allowing any more time for his ruse to be cracked, he uttered a quick goodbye before adjusting the straps on his elytra and dashing off, leaping into the air and back towards the ruins.
"Scar, wait!" Mumbo tried, but he was already gone.
------
The returning flight was far from the peaceful journey he'd made to the excitation site. His artificial wings beat frantically, struggling to keep up as he charged forward with excessive firepower. He paid no mind to the safety protocol regarding the rocket's cool-down period, simply heralding through the air as fast as his elytra would carry him. Scar arrived back to the monument in a trip overall much faster than when he'd left, but it seemed to drag on for an eternity. The entire excursion consisted of a battle with his own mind-- a war in which he knew he was bound to lose, but he had to hold down the fort until he was on solid ground.
Scar was lucky not to crash into the debris upon landing, frantically stumbling to the dirt and having to grasp onto a piece of wreckage to maintain his balance. His legs nearly buckled under his weight, form trembling in spite of the deep breaths he gave it his all to draw in.
He grasped hard to the rubble, trying to anchor his brain into focus. He couldn't let his thoughts spiral, he couldn't think about Them. He knew grounding techniques, and he tried to rush his way through them.
Five things you can see.
He could see the golden heart, plants, stone, the golden heart again-- the thing was too anatomically correct, he'd seen horrors too similar to it before. And the sound, it was too damn loud, too hard to ignore. Its unsteady rhythm hammering in his ears alongside his own faltering pulse.
Forget visuals, four different noises?
Scar squeezed his eyes shut in an attempt to listen, focusing hard on the world around him. Still, he could only hear the heart. He could only hear it pounding, its once melodic notes like nails on a chalkboard. He could remember far too many times when he was left alone with nothing but his heartbeat and his pleas.
Tactile. Texture. What can you feel? Three things you can feel.
Internally, he screamed at his dulling senses to return. God, he didn't want to think about Them, it wasn't worth the risk. They'd been inside his head before, and the mere idea of having his thoughts broadcasted again made his stomach churn. Scar tried harder and harder to suppress the images bubbling to the surface, festering like maggots in an old wound. The more he tried to push them down, however, the fiercer they'd rise back up, and he choked down a sob in attempt to list the sensations he could currently identify.
He could feel the stone-- but he already said the stone, didn't he? He could also feel the sun. It was hot against his back. So hot. He was overheating.
The notes should have been a success, but the drops of sweat felt too akin to tricking blood. The sting of his hands felt too much like the friction burn of a rope. It felt too much like he was back with the Vex again, and as he finally sunk to the soil, he could no longer swim against the onslaught of memories crashing over him like a tidal wave.
They could still hear him, They could still hear him, They could still hear him, They could still get him--
------
The day he and Cub first found the courage to try and cut ties with the Vex had been a hellish one, and the two men weren't even successful in their attempt. Hence, of course, it being the first.
Still, it had taken ages for Scar to persuade Cub that it was even worth trying, the other man having believed it was impossible to sneak anything past the Vex on their own. Scar was persistent, however, and eventually convinced his friend they had a shot if they played their cards right, if they made the right proposal without their intentions being discovered.
They'd constructed their plans in secret for weeks; discussing them only inside of untold locations with hushed whispers, or in the form of coded scrawls they'd burn immediately after reading. They couldn't be too careful, that's what they'd tell themselves whenever they worried their precautionary measures may be over the top. Even so, when a so-called conference was put on the schedule --such events were far from any type of cordial meeting, despite having been assigned the title of one-- the men were hardly prepared for it.
Their conference room consisted of a needlessly grandiose suite, with floors of marble and walls carved from deep umber wood. The polished lumber was adorned with expensive paintings in aureate frames; antique laden shelves taking up the spaces they did not. Aesthetically pleasing decorative tactics were discarded in favour of showing off their riches in a possessive cluster, with the only average items being the table and its chairs sat in the dead center of the area. A chandelier of gemstone and gold swung from above, dangling by the same chains fated to one day bind their vassals.
"Concordats, greetings!" A Vex declared as the men were led through the doorway, hovering in the air at the opposing end of the surface.
"Greetings," parroted Cub minimally, Scar giving a plain nod beside him. Fewer words meant less chance at letting their guard down.
"We've been needing to speak with you," a different Vex chimed.
"Speak with you about the business," yet another visitant confirmed.
"We actually need to discuss similar matters with you all," Scar noted, voice and expression a façade of tranquility.
"You do?" the first asked, wide smile replaced with inquiry.
"Yes," managed Cub, "we want to make you an offer, one you can't refuse."
"I do like the sound of that!" the second snickered.
"We'll hear your offer," the Vex grinned, "we only have one question first!"
"Of course, what is it?" asked Scar, in mental awe of how well their exchange was going.
"Do you recognize these?" it asked, gesturing towards the white table where a blue light flashed, fading away to reveal a small pile of ash.
Cub and Scar glanced to one another in evident confusion, the latter of the two speaking once again, "Forgive me, but we're not sure what you're talking about."
"Oh, silly me!" the Vex giggled, another flash of luminesce encompassing the soot and leaving a stack of papers in its place. As if caught in a controlled gust, they blew from the surface and organized themselves midair; levitating in a cloud of magic.
All of their once burnt notes were lined up before them, cyphers needed to crack their messages included.
Still beaming with innocence, it continued, "How about now? Look familiar?"
The blood drained from their faces, and Scar could have sworn his heart was going to burst from his chest with how hard it was drumming. He wanted to wake up, because this had to be a nightmare.
"No, we have no idea what those are," he tried.
LAIR!
Overlapping voices screamed in his head, all sounding in haunting unison. Scar hastily clapped his hands over his ears, but it did nothing to silence the uproar emanating from within.
You try to break our contract then lie to our faces?
Foolish concordats.
Terrible secret keepers, terrible subjects.
Cub seized hold of Scar's arm and made a break for the door with the brunet in tow, reaching the exit and tugging desperately on the handles. They refused to turn under his grasp, and his eyes darted back towards the Vex; floating creatures growing ever closer to their imaginary bubble providing them with the illusion of safety.
More of Them were phasing in through walls, forms non-corporeal and having no need for the sealed entryway.
Apologize.
They all ordered, Scar flinching at the simultaneous projection. He lowered his hands and turned towards Them, watching Their unmoving grins with wide eyes.
Kneel before your gods and divulge your prayers, we may just show you mercy.
"I'm sorry-" Scar whimpered, but Cub was having none of it.
"No!" the man barked, "Screw this! This isn't worth it! None of this is worth it! He's right! The business, the money, the power, it-- it means nothing! Not when you treat us like this!"
They watched him step forward, his furious yells echoing through the expanse of the room, "We're done! And we mean it! You're going to get us go or else!"
An orchestra of shrill cackles filled the air.
Oooh, it's angry.
They're fighting back!
Teach them a lesson.
"You won't dare make another-" Cub's retaliation was cut short with a cry, the bearded man dropping to the ground in a swift crash.
"Cub!" Scar called, but his attempt to step towards his friend was met only with a searing pain through his legs and the subsequent buckling of his knees. He fell to the marble, limbs heavy as if they'd been weighted. It took considerable force to balance on his arms, appendages left shaking as he peered back up towards the Vex.
He regretted it instantly.
•••
(Part two)
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Ephemera Week (2002)
I really wonder how effectively I’ll be able to do this in 2003. In 2003, Adult Swim started doing the black and white text bumps, where they give max sass and NO EFFS (fucks), so every week had unique content. I definitely don’t have the resources to catalogue every bumper or even come up with a decent “best of”. Ephemera Corner 2003 may look very different. To quote my good friend Zorak, “Brak, do you ever think about the future?”. To this I say, yes. Yes, Zorak, I do.
BROADCAST ANOMALIES AND SPECIAL NIGHTS!
Adult Swim Action (and other stuff) | February 23, 2002
February 23rd was the first installment of Adult Swim Action. Up to this point, Adult Swim aired a block of mostly comedy capped off with Cowyboy Bebop. This was the first formal separation of Action and Comedy. I remember the bitter rivalry between the two fandoms on various message boards I posted on. It really did seem like a venn diagram with almost no overlap; action fans hated the comedy shows (maybe they liked one or two but hated the rest) and the same went for the comedy fans, except most of the comedy fans I knew were devout anime haters.
At the height of my anime animosity an internet ex-friend of mine started a message board called ANIME SUCKS. It was an experience I’ll always remember fondly. At it’s peak it had over 1000 members. All but about a dozen of those members were actually ANGRY anime fans who just stumbled on the board and were FURIOUS at us for being anti-anime, and we’d just act like obtuse dickheads about it. Like, we’d act stupider than they were and just wind them up.
We developed a few tricks to really set somebody off. For example: they’d write an impassioned defense of anime as an art form, and say something like “it’s not all like Pokemon or Dragonball Z”, to which we’d reply “actually those are the only two animes I like”. This really got them. There was a special thrill to just replying “miyazaki is an idiot” to a guy’s 6-paragraph essay about why anime was “good, actually”, prompting an even longer response. It was really fun! We didn’t have to harass people online, they’d just come to us to get abused. I’ve never seen bait get taken so effortlessly. One day that guy just closed the message board, locked everyone out, and disappeared forever.
That was some aside, huh? Anyway, the arrival of Adult Swim Action meant that Adult Swim stopped airing the Thursday night repeats of Adult Swim Comedy, which was a shame. It Also meant Adult Swim’s Sunday night had an extra hour to fill, which they did with Rocky & Bullwinkle and the Popeye Show. People complained. I didn’t. Vintage animation is just a different take on the “adult” label. Besides, I was used to tuning out by 12AM anyway, so even if I didn’t like those shows (I did!) I wasn’t missing anything, really. But yes, if it were a full hour of Space Ghost repeats I guess that would’ve been better.
The Lewis Lectures | May 19, 2002 - 12:45 AM
A repeat of Lewis Lectures? IT HAPPENED! But what was so different about this broadcast of Lewis Lectures? Well, they accidentally scrambled the SAP audio with the default English audio, causing the Spanish soundtrack to play in tandem with the English one. It was bloody well fucked mate. This is simply no longer England.
I remember becoming an Adult Swim completist and taping this, considering it some kind of void in my collection. Part of me wishes I saved the recording, so I could combine it with the inferior YouTube rip currently up and have a closer-to-pristine copy than the one that’s available. But also, JESUS FUCKING CHRIST THIS IS LEWIS LECTURES WE ARE TALKING ABOUT. How much pain can I inflict on myself?
Harvey Birdman: Attorney at Law Mini-Marathon | September 15, 2002 - 11:00 PM
On this night they aired a little Harvey Birdman marathon of the 4 episodes. This was kinda baffling, as Birdman had 6 episodes to its name and they’d been repeated into the ground by this point. I guess it goes to show that Adult Swim kinda considered Birdman to be their prestige program. I’m hard-pressed to call any one Adult Swim show “smart” in a way that’s apparent on a shallow level. Birdman is set in a courtroom, animated the most competently out of all their other shows, and involved cultural references in a showy way. Like, Space Ghost having Dave Willis absurdly shout “UP THE CHAIN” in the background of a Space Ghost episode is almost just a weird easter egg. But Birdman? Birdman was name-dropping Hanna Barbera characters the same way Frasier would talk about whatever gay shit Frasier talked about.
They aired The Dabba Don, Shaggy Busted, Shoyu Weenie, Very Personal Injury in that order. I would’ve swapped Shaggy and Shoyu and for Bannon Custody Battle and Death by Chocolate, but that’s just me, I guess.
vimeo
Adult Swim New Years Bash hosted by Carl and Brak | December 31, 2002 - 11:00 PM
Adult Swim officially ended 2002 with this: a night hosted by Carl and Brak in Times Square, watching the ball drop (which was FREAKING MEATWAD!!!!). I remember this night fondly. Unfortunately I can’t find the whole thing, but here’s a single segment I found on vimeo to give you some idea. I think I had it up at one point and Turner very annoyingly had it taken down.
I used to have this massive physical media collection; stuff on VHS and DVD and DVD-R that was meticulously catalogued. I ditched a lot of it in favor of digitizing stuff like this, eternally keeping it on hard drives that I meant to back up but never did. It seems more convenient, but it isn’t. If this were 2003 and I needed to show you this, I would be able to retrieve it from one of my many shelves. I might still have this, but would have no idea where to look for it and it would probably involve me getting in my car and going out to my storage unit and pulling every single box out. I turned it into ones an zeros and stuck it on a nondescript black box that could very well be dead. And now it’s not even on YouTube. Sad? Sure, it’s sad.
PEAK EPHEMERA
(phrase stolen from Grifthorse podcast)
Hey, here are some videos I found on YouTube in case you wanna go down a wormhole of watching old Adult Swim commercial breaks. May the gods of posterity keep them online forever:
February 4, 2002
Spring 2002
June 16, 2002
June 30, 2002
July 27, 2002
August 2002
November 17, 2002
November/December 2002
MAIL BAG:
This ends EPHEMERA WEEK. We’ll do actual episodes soon!
What's the scariest thing you seen on adult swim?
I don’t know if I have a real answer for this. I don’t think I actually get scared by stuff in movies or TV shows. I can’t even come up with a funny answer. Remember the end of that Metalocalypse episode where the little sick girl is dead and her eyes turn into maggots and you hear that screechy voice was like I’M DEAD BECAUSE OF YOU!!! I’ll just go with that even though it made me laugh really hard
Ever watch Limmy's Show
I am content just being vaguely aware of Limmy (no, I never watched his show. Seems good).
Please don't do such a big mailbag. I couldn't believe how many r-words wrote inane bullshit to you. Let keep this blog about the real stars: Master Shake, Space Ghost, Brak, Zorak, Meatwad, Frylock, Debbie, Black Debbie, Carl, Sparks, Stormy, Hesh, Moltar, Harvery Birdman Captain Murphy, Dr. Quinn, Paula, Marco, Brendon, Jason, Melissa, The Mooninites, the Plutonians, Peanut, Coach Mc Gurk, Mentok the Mindtaker, Virjay, Antoin, Colby, Trotter, Adair WE ARE THE UPRIGHT CITIZENS BRIGADE :)
I can’t believe this IDIOT doesn’t get that by typing such a long message he very IDIOTICALLY contributed to the length of the Maili Bag... LMFAO, what a IDIOT
This is maybe the funniest blog on tumblr. You really think these nasty little cartoons are special, huh?
Hey than-- oh :( Yeah, I guess so :(
would you like master shake if he did the whole thing
I’m sorry what
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Deception of Luna
Fandoms: Destiny, Destiny 2
Tropes: F/M, trauma recovery, heavy angst, light fluff, creepy whumper, cosmic horror elements, whumpee/caretaker intimacy
TWs: flashback, explicit noncon, implied death of loved ones, implied misogyny
Read on AO3
Lich-5 considers herself to be quite lucky. At least with her assignments on Luna; not so much with her loot. She speeds across the lunar surface on her Sparrow towards Archer’s Line, having just received a bounty to clear out the Fallen there. There are three of the usual crimson phantoms en route this time; each one cowers and screams in terror as her Sparrow plows by. To her, these nightmares are just nameless red silhouettes that occasionally make creepy noises; none of them are the slightest bit recognizable. The larger ones, the ones that appear as long-dead enemies rather than Guardians, have names she can recognize from her historical studies, but nothing more than that. Despite her own experience, Lich knows that most of her fellows don’t see them that way.
The Pyramid of Luna is a nasty piece of work, to say the least. She would call it sadistic, but it would be improper of her to anthropomorphize such an alien being. The nightmares it spawns are drawn directly from the Guardians’ most painful losses; vanquished nemeses, outlived mentors, lost loves, and a myriad of others now walk again on Luna. In every case, their passing had left wounds on the people they left behind, and now the Pyramid has made those wounds fresh again.
The worst part, Lich thinks, is that doing so offers it no tactical advantage. The Pyramid doesn’t need to crush Guardians’ morale; it could crush them all very literally if it so chose. This thing’s kind had caused the Great Collapse of humanity’s golden age; surely the Last City of today would be no trouble for it to exterminate. The only thing keeping them all alive is this Pyramid’s continued desire to bide its time. And in that time, it’s chosen to reopen their old wounds because it’s fun.
The reason Lich-5 considers herself lucky is because she doesn’t have many wounds that can be reopened. She'd been resurrected just after the Red War, into a world struggling to recuperate, to make some amount of sense out of the tremendous loss. Her roommate Windy isn’t a particularly old Guardian by any means, only a few years her senior, but that still puts his resurrection date solidly before the War. She doesn’t pry him about it, but she’s aware that the majority of people he knew had been permanently Returned To Light by the forces of Dominus Ghaul. Windy avoids assignments on Luna like the plague, as do many of her elder acquaintances. She’s met Guardians who were resurrected in the Dark Age, now hundreds of years old, who have pushed on through every defeat humanity has ever faced since the Collapse. Lich herself recently turned three.
Will she live to be hundreds of years old? If she does, how much will she lose in that time?
She’s coming up on Archer’s Line now. There’s already some Guardian activity here; in the distance, she can pick out the dull gray bulk of a male Titan’s armor against the background of lunar dust. Ignoring his presence, she drives into the old K1 Logistics facility and gets to work.
Clearing the facility takes under ten minutes. She emerges from the front entrance with her armored Warlock’s robe dotted with scuffs and splattered with Fallen Ether. Her bounty objectives aren’t quite complete yet; there are still a few Fallen skittering around the Lunar surface that’ll have to be dealt with. She’d think that life-or-death combat would be too stressful to become boring, but when that death isn’t much more than a temporary (if painful) setback, the repetitiveness of it can get a bit dull.
Just gotta get it done, then I can relax. The rewards from these last few bounties should be just enough to afford that fancy new armor set she’s been working towards, and then she won’t have much to do until the next big crisis inevitably hits the Sol system. She’s already thinking of a few new science projects she could start work on during her extended down time; monotonous work like this does little to satiate her burning curiosity.
The Titan she saw earlier seems to be approaching the K1 facility now. He’s welcome to loot the place if he wants; she only went in to get her bounties done. It’s nice to see another Guardian out here; the presence of an ally makes her feel slightly less alone in this gray hellscape, even if they don’t interact.
The boxy silhouette of his armor strikes her as oddly familiar. It’s possible that she’s seen him somewhere else before; there aren’t an unlimited number of Guardians in Sol, and Lich has met quite a lot of them.
Wait a minute—
Recognition shoots through her neural network like arc lightning. Instantly, her every piston is tense, all sensors on high alert. It’s him. Why does he have to be here?
She takes it back. Having another Guardian here isn’t nice at all, not when it’s him in particular . Lich quickly ducks back into the empty facility, taking cover from the imminent danger behind one of the large storage containers strewn about. She needs to be in a place where he isn’t in her line of sight.
Maybe she isn’t so lucky. Of course the phantoms wouldn’t reopen old wounds, only for another Guardian to do it instead. Taking stock of her emotional state, she abruptly realizes how much she’s shaking. She forcibly steels herself, struggling to regain her composure while cursing her own weakness. Simply seeing a Titan, even if it’s him, should not frighten her to the point where she’s struggling to even function.
Lich is ashamed to admit to herself how much sway he still holds over her mental state. His existence is a disgusting muck polluting the back of her mind; just being reminded of him feels like wading through a stagnant pit of human sewage, from which she can never truly escape because it’s in her head. Thinking about it more only makes it worse, causes her to sink deeper. She can forget him, at least temporarily, but then eventually something random always jogs her memory and she'll be back, trapped again in that pit of sewage.
She considers abandoning her objectives and transmatting back to her jumpship, still safely parked at the landing zone. But it’s this part of Luna that needs to be cleared of Fallen, and that fancy new armor set won’t be on sale forever, and she really shouldn’t be so pathetically weak to let this get to her. No, she’ll stay, to earn her extended down time if nothing else. She just needs to calm down and wait here until he—
“Oh hey, Lich. Long time no see.”
If Lich had a heart, it would have stopped beating at that exact second. His voice, just his fucking voice, almost throws her back there all by itself. He’s so insufferably casual with his greeting, like she’s just any other acquaintance to him.
“Hey. You mind leaving me alone?”
“Woah, relax. I’m just finishing up these bounties.” Condescension drips off of his words like spoiled milk.
“Yeah, well, please stay away from me while you do that.”
His tone sours, sounding almost disappointed. “Well you’re being awfully frigid.”
“Of course I fucking am!” Lich fumes, rage momentarily cutting through her fear. “What did you expect, that I’d be nice to you!?”
The Titan pauses. “Well… yeah, kinda. I at least didn’t expect to be jilted like this.”
For a brief moment, Lich sees red. Her trembling has elevated to a truly intolerable level, and she’s currently about five seconds away from drawing her Dawnblade on this man. She knows that getting violent with him would almost certainly end poorly for her, though. With great effort, she puts together a facade of something resembling calmness.
“Look… I think I’ve got a pretty good reason for not wanting to see you. Please leave, and never try to interact with me again. I know I’m never gonna get justice, so I just want to move past this and get back as close to normal as possible. You’re making it rather difficult to do that right now.”
“Justice?" He cocks his helmet to the side in what looks like disbelief. As if he has any right to act surprised by any of this. She can practically feel him rolling his eyes at her underneath his blank faceplate, and it makes her synthetic stomach turn. “Fine, fine. If you wanna be like that, it’s not my problem.”
He proceeds deeper into the K1 halls, finally giving Lich a reprieve from his vile presence. She turns to leave in the opposite direction, but stops short when she catches the Titan muttering a final insult under his breath.
“Fuckin’ melodramatic bitch.”
She whirls on him. “Fuck you, asshole!” she spits over her shoulder, still heading for the facility’s exit. “If I ever see you again, it’ll be too soon!”
The Titan is mercifully quiet. Lich is almost at the door; just a few more Fallen slain, and she’ll be able to go home and do her best to forget that she ever saw him again.
“No, fuck you.”
Lich barely registers the Titan’s words in her audio receptors, and she doesn’t notice the suppressor grenade roll between her legs until it’s too late.
————————————
Windy’s day has been restful, to say the least. He lays sprawled out on the couch of his and Lich’s shared apartment, his usual combat armor doffed in favor of boxers and a tank top, lackadaisically swiping through the datapad in his hand. On one tab is the sidearm section of Omolon’s digital storefront; on another is a gallery of images displaying a nude Awoken. He lifts his can of alcoholic liquid from the coffee table and pours the last of it down his throat, sighing in satisfaction. It’s kinda nice to stay home for once while Lich goes out to grind away at bounties.
Fuck, he needed a day like this. He’s been seeing less than his fair share of action recently, but continuously dodging Vanguard assignments on Luna has been anxiety-inducing enough on its own. After his first visit, he vowed to make every effort he possibly could to never return. The Vanguard had assigned him a strike against the Hive on Luna today, and so he had to call in one of his favors for a friend to take his place in the fireteam, hence his current position at home while Lich is out and about.
An Incoming Communication notification buzzes at the top of his screen, and he quickly closes the pornography tab before answering. It’s from Phylactery. That’s odd; Lich’s Ghost hardly ever lets themself be seen, and speaks even less. If Lich had a message for him, she’d give it herself.
“Hey, how’s it going?”
The Ghost doesn’t waste any time on pleasantries. “Lich needs immediate evac from K1 Logistics on Luna.”
Windy instantly bolts up from his slouched position. “Wait, what’s going on? Can she transmat out?”
Phylactery is doing their best to keep their tone clipped and curt as usual, but Windy still picks up on the desperate way they hurry over their words. “No, she’s currently catatonic. We’re stuck here until someone can provide an evac.”
“Catatonic?" Windy balks. “What the hell happened down there?”
The Ghost’s distress is evident. “I’m not quite sure. Lich saw something; I think we were attacked, but she still isn’t cognizant enough to give me the details. I felt something suppress our Light. I was knocked unconscious, and Lich… she’s not recovering. We need you here as soon as possible.”
Fear grips Windy’s gut. Suppressed Light means that an RTL is on the table. He’s got enough dead friends walking around on Luna without Lich joining that long list.
“It’ll take me awhile to get there; can you call any nearby Guardians for backup?”
Windy can detect a wince in Phylactery’s tone. “No, this… isn’t the kind of thing that a random stranger would be able to help with. Might make matters worse, even.” the Ghost quietly speculates to themself. “What she really needs right now is someone she trusts.”
Well that’s cryptic. He knows he’s not getting the full picture of events, and stumbling blindly into danger has always been more of Lich’s thing than his. He doesn’t exactly have time to press the Ghost further, though.
“Already on my way. Just gimme like twenty minutes to get there.”
“Right, thank you.” Phylactery seems relieved to no longer be discussing it.
Windy is already in motion as he hangs up the call. He drops the datapad on the cushion beside him, then vaults over the back of the couch in his usual manner. He doesn’t bother taking the time to change out of his boxers and tank top before exiting the apartment; he’ll don his armor in his jumpship. The residents of this housing block have seen far weirder things than his underwear, anyways.
Fuck. On Luna. Guess I won’t be able to avoid it after all. Dread constricts around his gut like a snake as he approaches the Tower’s hangar, a sensation that he knows won’t dissipate until he and Lich are safely back on Earth. For now, he tries to shove it down as best he can. His current priority is making sure that his roommate doesn’t get RTL’d; once she’s safe, he can go drown his worries at the nearest bar and put this all behind him. He distracts himself by planning out the route he’ll take there, what drinks he’ll order, who he might meet up with...
As he’s exiting the Earth’s atmosphere, Windy briefly speculates that maybe finding a therapist would be a better use of his time than just getting drunk again, before he blasts off at near-light speed for Luna.
————————————
Lich-5 awakens to the sensation of an immense weight on top of her, as if she’s trapped underneath a boulder. She’s laying stomach-down on the couch where she fell asleep, being pressed down into the cushions by the heavy object above her. She’s in an apartment typical of one of the Last City’s massive housing blocks, although not the one she shares with Windy. Night has long since fallen outside, casting the living room in darkness. What little illumination remains bathes everything in an odd vermillion.
The Titan’s apartment is small, but his couch provided an adequate place to crash for the night after a particularly wild bar crawl. Lich can’t get drunk, but flying her jumpship home while exhausted would be just as dangerous. When she proposed the idea of crashing at a nearby friend’s place, one particular Titan was eager to offer. He’s new to her group of drinking buddies, and so it struck Lich as unusual that he would so readily invite her over. Once at his apartment, she figured out his reason pretty quickly.
Tucked away in her backpack at the foot of the couch, Phylactery sleeps soundly, enjoying a well-earned rest after a long day’s grind. Lich is currently not being afforded that same rest. The weight on top of her shifts around erratically, fiddling with something, trying to get it open. She’s nearly driven to panic, but her fear keeps her frozen in place. Just pretend you’re still asleep, her mind unhelpfully provides. Play dead, and soon the predator will go away.
The predator does not go away. She feels a sudden spike of pain, and the irregular shifting of the weight quickly becomes paced and rhythmic.
Lich can’t pinpoint when or how her view shifts, but at some point she finds that she’s above herself—literally. She’s watching the scene unfold from a third-person perspective, her disembodied consciousness hanging a meter in the air over her incapacitated frame. She can’t compel herself to move a single piston or servo, her physical form refusing to comply with her immobilized will.
Long ago, in a time before she could remember, Lich had had nightmares in which she was pursued by an extreme danger, only to find her limbs paralyzed and unresponsive to her attempts to flee. This is a lot like that, only it’s not a nightmare; this is real life and the danger is directly on top of her. There is no chance to flee; she’s already been caught.
The Titan’s head, now free of its helmet, rests on the couch next to hers. Despite the warmth of his breath, a chill runs through Lich’s system. She can feel his wet lips graze against her artificial skull as he begins to speak.
“The Light does not hold its wielders to any standard of morality.” he whispers into the side of her head, where the ear would be if she were human. There’s a horrible wrongness in his tone, like multiple beings trying to speak through one mouth. “In the Dark Age, the Warlords inflicted terrible violence upon the innocent, just as he inflicted violence upon you.”
The motion gradually escalates in speed and magnitude, pressing Lich further down into the couch cushions with an oscillating rhythm. Her pain briefly increases as the pace picks up, but it quickly turns dull, and a sensation of warmth grows in its place as her own body turns against her. He’s speaking again, those wet lips and warm breath directly on her audio receptor. He doesn’t pause for air as he produces the words, regardless of his physical exertion.
“In Light, there is only pain.”
There’s a groan from above her, and the weight slumps, ceasing its rhythm. Lich silently breathes a sigh of relief, although she’s still far too overwhelmed with disgust to really be relieved by any of this. She knows on some level that it’s only been minutes, but her dilated sense of time has stretched the ordeal into what felt like hours.
The floorboards creak next to her, and the Titan exits the small living room, although Lich still remains effectively paralyzed. A heavy exhaustion has seeped into her chassis, now even worse than the one she was trying to cure by crashing here. Still unable to will herself to move, it isn’t long before unconsciousness claims her again.
————————————
Windy summons his Sparrow within the second he touches down on Luna. His stomach churns as he exits his jumpship, doing his best to keep his eyes on the ground and away from the lifeless red Guardians hanging motionless over the landing zone. The Pyramid must know this is a center of Guardian activity, and so the nightmares swarm here like some kind of macabre flock.
He passes three more of the crimson phantoms on his way to the dot Phylactery marked on his heads-up display. He gives each of them as wide of a berth as he reasonably can, trying to keep them in his periphery while still steering the vehicle on course. If he looks at one too closely, there's a decent chance he’ll recognize it. He fails to give the third one enough room, and winces under his helmet as it wails at him for help in a voice he’s pretty sure he can put a name to.
Phylactery’s coordinates lead him to the K1 facility at the far end of Archer’s Line. A short distance in, he finds his roommate’s distinctive hive-bone helmet lying discarded to one side. It’s not until he proceeds down a hallway and searches behind a storage container that he finds the Warlock it belongs to. She doesn’t appear to be in any immediate physical danger, although he wouldn’t think it purely by her posture; she’s curled up in a fetal position on the floor, trembling violently, the shutters over her optics squeezed as tight as they’ll go.
One of the red phantoms looms over her cowering form. This one is clearly a Titan, and Windy can’t restrain his relieved exhale when he fails to recognize it. It does not turn to acknowledge him as he enters, keeping its blank gaze fixed on the ball of a Warlock curled behind the box.
It takes Windy a moment to realize that Lich is crying. Her digital optics don’t feature tear ducts, but the anguish in her soft vocalizations is unmistakable. It’s a sound that he doesn’t hear often, but still far more than he’d like.
Windy steps straight through the phantom towards his friend, passing through it as if it’s not even there. The spectral Titan’s body offers no resistance and induces no sensation. The thing recoils in a mimicry of pain, then disperses into maroon wisps as if it were mist. The instant it vanishes completely, her optics fly open.
The first thing that Lich sees is Windy leaned over her, right where he had stood, offering her a hand.
"W-windy?" She accepts the hand graciously, allowing him to pull her to her feet. “What are you doing here?”
“Phylactery told me you needed an evac.” The somber concern in his tone catches her by surprise, and she briefly feels a pang of guilt for causing him to worry this much.
Lich emits a single humorless laugh, barely holding in a sob behind it. “Yeah. You could say that.” She’ll have to thank her Ghost for their forethought later. She takes a moment to collect herself, brushing the lunar dust off her robes and trying in vain to suppress her shivering.
“You didn’t have to come for me.” she tells him frankly, refusing to meet his sympathetic gaze. “I know how much you hate this place.”
“Lich, it’s fine. There is nothing in all of Sol that could make me leave you behind.”
For a moment, Lich looks like she’s about to cry again, before she closes the distance between their bodies and embraces Windy in a tight hug. He tentatively returns the gesture, protectively wrapping his arms around her back, and her hold on his torso quickly turns into a death grip. She’s no longer crying, but he takes careful note of the way she still shivers and shakes in his embrace.
Lich buries her face in the crook of his neck, hiding away from the world in the rough fabric of his Hunter cloak. Her chemical receptors flood with the particles that cling to the garment; it smells like his shampoo and sweat and the dust of a hundred worlds, all composing into a unique odor that is very distinctly Windy. His smell is grounding, bringing her attention back to the here and now.
“So, did the nightmares get to you?” he asks, tracing his fingers over the top of her fiberglass cranium in the way he knows she likes. He immediately withdraws his hand when she unexpectedly flinches away from the gentle contact. “I thought you hadn’t lost anyone.”
Lich shakes her head gently against his cloak. “I, uh… I saw him again.”
Windy’s blood freezes. Then the phantom Titan was—
“Oh shit, Lich, I’m so sorry.” He suddenly feels very conscious of the way he’s holding her.
Windy can’t forget the morning that Lich had nearly collapsed into their apartment, utterly disheveled after a long night out, and he had to delicately explain to her that sex is not a required payment for a male friend lending you his couch to crash on. Working through that day had been a painful experience for them both, although Windy has no illusions about which of them had it worse. Despite his seniority as a Guardian, dealing with this particular type of violence was entirely outside of his expertise. To his knowledge, aside from him and Phylactery, she’s never told another soul of what happened that night.
“This fucking Pyramid.” he spits out venomously, staring out at the lunar expanse beyond the facility. That fucking Titan. Hate festers within his ribcage like rot. At the time, he’d had half a mind to bust down the Titan’s front door with his Golden Gun in hand, ready to vaporize both him and his Ghost. But Lich needed him more than that Titan needed a bullet, and so the obligation to support her had stayed his hand.
With the Pyramid, though, it’s so much worse. Even though he couldn’t act on his impulse against the Titan, at least there had been some degree of hope there. With how utterly infinitesimal he is compared to the Pyramid’s world-ending might, he doesn’t even get the luxury of a revenge fantasy.
"It was like—" Lich begins to speak, but stops short as her chassis is taken by a violent shiver. Windy can almost feel the intensity of the chill that runs through her. "Like being there all over again."
His attention snaps back to her, and all the hate goes cold. His rage is not what Lich needs right now. Staying angry is impossible when she’s still so visibly distressed. He mentally reminds himself that this is her pain, not his; she’s the one who gets to have the revenge fantasy, if she so chooses.
“Yeah. I... get what that’s like. It sucks, but the suck is ultimately temporary. You’ll get through this.”
The pair are silent for a moment as Lich’s mind swims. She really wishes she could take his words to heart, but the memory of him freshly burned into her mind is all she can focus on. She tries to clear her thoughts by concentrating on the steady rise and fall of Windy’s chest, while her own remains eternally still. She reminds herself of what’s real: he’s here, holding her in his arms, and soon they’ll be home safe. The danger has long since passed, and was never even here in the first place.
“I feel disgusting.” Lich voices the thought aloud, her gaze remaining firmly downcast. “I’ve felt disgusting since that night. I don’t know if it’s ever gonna go away.”
Windy winces, sucking in a quiet breath through his teeth. "That… I lack experience with. But, from the experience I do have, I can tell you that it’s not true." Now he’s the one to strengthen the embrace. Through the heavy weave of her robes, he soothingly runs a hand up and down her mechanical spine, and is relieved when she relaxes into the touch rather than flinching away. "You’re smart, and beautiful, and brave, and you can be really really annoying when you want to be, but I still care about you. You’re the furthest thing from disgusting that I can imagine. What he did doesn’t make you any lesser as a person; you’re still the same Lich I’ve always known.”
Lich tries to form a response, but words fail her, immediately getting caught in the knot that’s formed behind her speakers. She settles for simply holding Windy close, savoring the feeling of their arms wrapped around each other. Some part of her is still trapped in that sewage pit, but it’s further away now, distanced from her by the closeness to him. For the briefest moment, she believes with absolute certainty that everything he said is true, and almost manages to clamber her way out.
“Y’know, if Guardians really are amoral, you’re a pretty good counterexample.”
“Hm?” He turns his head towards hers with a raised brow.
“Ah, nevermind. Symmetrist ramblings.” Windy can’t help but notice another chill run through her.
It’s a long while before Lich feels stable enough on her own to leave his arms. When she finally begins to move away, he retracts his protective embrace, allowing her to separate from him without resistance.
"You ready to head home now? I'll ride with you to the landing zone and fly us back to Earth. We can pick up your jumpship later."
Lich releases an extended sigh, exhaling her residual tension into the thin lunar atmosphere. “Sure. Thanks for all this, by the way. I… needed to hear that.”
He gives her a warm, relieved smile. “Don’t mention it.”
Lich finally escapes from K1 Logistics with her hand firmly in Windy’s. While the Sparrow is intended to be a single-occupancy vehicle, that’s never stopped particularly affectionate Guardians from riding them two at a time. Lich and Windy share the single seat, with her clinging to his back, holding on with her arms wrapped around his midsection.
The ride back to the landing zone is short, but both Guardians savor it. The red phantoms don’t cause either of them much distress on their return trip. Holding each other close, the nightmares seem just a little bit fainter.
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Pandemonium [2/3]
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Fandom: Batman
Characters: Jason Todd, Damian Wayne, batfam appearances
Pairing: JayDami
Rated: T
Warnings: Damian is aged up, should be in college.
Summary:
In which Damian is way too oblivious and Jason suffers.
Read on AO3
A/N: So I haven’t picked up a DC comic since Damian died in Nu52 timeline. So everyone in the batfam follows pre-Nu52 here.
Tonight there was something off about the kid. They'd hit a dead end with their case yet again, but Robin was more annoyed to have that happen. Usually, he would be fine with calling it a night or go off to patrol on his own if it was early. Red Hood would often join him if the kid decided to stick around his part of the city. Even now, as Jason surveys the scene before him, it isn't very hard to see that the kid was using more force than necessary. More than necessary for Batman, not enough for Red Hood. But hey, he was trying to work within the limitations he was given. If Robin wants to break more bones than needed, then that was his prerogative.
However, with hours of fighting bad guys, Jason can tell Robin was going to run himself ragged. It was nearly two in the morning, and Red Hood had only jumped in to help once. Robin's stamina was impressive and his fighting was always exhilarating to watch, but even now, when the last baddie drops to the ground, Jason can tell that the kid was going to get hurt if he continued like this.
Any protests Robin gives him are ignored and only cease once they're in one of Batman's safe houses, one with a communal shower, and clothes and within walking distance of Jason's favorite diner in the city.
"I don't see any reason why we have to go out for food, Todd," Damian glowers across the booth at Jason
After the two of them had showered and changed, Jason had dragged the kid back out into the night for some grub.
"Can it, Babybat. I'm willing to bet if I had sent you on your way back to the manor, you'd be a lot worse than you are now."
Damian shakes his head, now glaring at his menu that was laying flat on his table. “I’m perfectly capable of taking care of myself."
Jason sighs before taking a long, noisy sip of his milkshake. Damian takes the straw covering Jason had removed, and fiddles with it, eventually rolling it into a ball.
"Must you?" The kid growls.
The older man savors the taste of his milkshake, smacking his lips, "Must I what? Drink my shake like how I'm supposed to?"
Before the Damian could make a comeback, a shadow casts over them. “Decided on what you want to order, sonny?”
“Onion rings and French toast with extra powdered sugar. I also request an empty ketchup container with my food, thank you.” Damian’s tone is cold while he hands the menu to their server and then slouches against the window with his arms crossed, looking pensive as he looks out into the city night.
“Don’t mind him, Merv,” Jason says to the big guy, “Kid’s in a mood.”
The other guy chuckles, “No worries at all. I get all walks of life at this time. Believe it or not, your friend there is part of the better half.”
Jason raises his glass to him, “Well, you’re always good company.”
“You have to say that for the milkshakes.”
“Best in the city, Merv, best in the city. Better yet add two more shakes to the order."
Jason smiles brilliantly while their server walks away to get started on their order. His eyes slide back to his companion him study him. “Wanna know how I came across this place?”
“Not particularly.”
“It was sometime in the fall of the year I turned sixteen,” Jason continues, completely ignoring Damian’s snide answer, “after having one too many arguments with B, figured I needed more time to cool off.”
“Let me guess, you walked past and decided to come in for food?”
Jason taps his glass patiently, “Nope, now don’t interrupt story time. Anyways, I was getting into fights just like you were doing tonight, just not as Robin -all in civvies. Got into a nasty fight with one baddie in particular and we just so happened to be trading blows right outside of this place. Guy got ahold of me and actually threw me through the same window behind me.” His right-hand goes up to point a thumb at the booth behind him.
Damian’s eyes flicker past Jason’s shoulder with intrigue then looks back at him, sitting up straight.
“My arms were pretty cut up, this one especially,” Jason flexed the fingers of the same hand that he had used to point, “So I couldn’t get a good hit on the other guy, who was pretty much pummeling my face at that point. Hurt like a bitch, but I didn’t pass out. Merv was actually the one that pulled him off of me and turned him into the police. He was gonna hand me over too but saw that I was just a kid. So he sat me down at the counter, handed me a shake and patched my arms up. Turns out he worked medical during the Korean War.”
Damian, at that point, was giving Jason a skeptical look, “What about the window?”
“I got B to pay for it and hire some quick workers to replace it. Technically, he was the one responsible. Wouldn’t have broken that window if he wasn’t on my case about everything that night. I’d come in from time to time, help out Merv if the place was swamped with customers or help clean tables and sweep the floor, but eventually, it was the milkshakes that got me coming back.”
Merv comes back with their orders, setting Damian’s steaming plate of French toast before him and the onion rings next to it. The shakes come clinking in after, this time in front of Jason. “Enjoy,” he states before moving to a booth that had called him over.
Jason takes a meaningful sip as he watches Damian primly cut his French toast in strips with a fork and knife then reaches over to take the syrup container and pour its contents into the empty ketchup container he asked for. Jason’s eyebrows raise up when Damian takes a strip and starts dunking it.
Hmm.
Elbow on the table and chin in hand, Damian takes a bite.
“So, Bruce issues?”
The kid looks up at Jason with a blank expression as he chews.
“Look, as an experienced veteran of navigating through the complicated waters of your dad’s disapproval, it’s not that hard to figure out that he’s the source of all of your…this.” He gestures to all of Damian.
“That was quite...poetic of you, Todd, but if it’s all the same to you, I would prefer not to talk about it right this second.”
Jason holds up both hands in surrender with a bitter smile, “Hey I get it. I’m not Dick. Sometimes talking makes it worse if you’re not up for it. I’m just here to keep you company and for when you are ready to talk about it. In the meantime,” Jason slides one of the milkshakes across, “unwind and enjoy the food."
And for the rest of the night, they eat in comfortable silence. This was nice. Jason wouldn’t mind getting used to doing something like this on a more frequent basis. For the most part, living on his own left him craving companionship. It’s also why he had Kori and Roy as teammates. They were two of the most affectionate people he knew, aside from Dick.
From there his thoughts wander, how would they feel about him potentially being with Damian? Better yet how would they interact with the demon spawn overall. Now that would be a very interesting thing to witness.
xXx
It's been about two months, closing in on three, of them working together on this case and Jesus Lord Almighty, Jason was frustrated in every conceivable way. Yes, there is the never-ending sexual frustration -which he doesn't even want to delve into right now, lest he gives himself continual blue balls...again- but he's aware that this thing he had for Damian was going further than just sexual attraction. It's so bad that he's so close to swan diving off of one of the bridges in the city.
But no, that would be the easy way out, and while he was lazy for the most part, this wasn't something he was trying to half-ass. Especially with how fucking clueless Damian was with everything he's been doing. If Jason did anything subtle, it went over the kid's head.
Jason has to resort to his biggest move. Yeah, it’s gotten that bad. So here he was, on a slow day, and arms full of groceries, walking up the steps of the manor, per Alfred's request. He would reach down to get his own set of keys, but why struggle when the doorbell was a lot more accessible.
Jason didn't have to wait long for the door to open, and who was at the door but none other than the owner of the manor.
"Jason?"
The look of surprise on Bruce's face was something the younger man appreciated. There were a few things that could take Bruce Wayne by surprise, and even less for Batman.
"Uh yeah, just here to..." Jason fumbles over the next few words in his head.
To get your son to like me by cooking him his favorite foods so that hopefully I can get in his pants?
"Get a few recipes off of Alfred," he finishes slowly.
Bruce's face relaxes back into neutral and holds the door a bit wider so Jason can enter. Half of the bags are taken from his arms as Bruce shuts the door, and they make their way to the kitchen.
Bruce hums in reply, "How's the case going? Damian hasn't said much on it."
"Because there isn't much to say to be honest. We're looking into any leads we come across along with stakeouts on their warehouse." Which was true, yeah they have the location for drug storage, but they weren't searching for the drugs. It was the child trafficking Jason was trying to put a stop to. Old habits of some of the criminals on his side had resurfaced while Jason was away. Five months of operation may not seem like much, but that's still one too many kids out there.
Bruce nods as they enter the kitchen and places the food on the island, which Jason copies. Then they just kinda stand there, the air turning awkward. Jason's skin starts to crawl from the way Bruce is not so secretly studying him. While their relationship may have gotten better, this stagnant air between them would always be the norm when they weren't talking about something related to crime fighting.
"Hey, I'll be making enough for everyone in the manor, probably even more than that. So you can let the others know if you want." There, now he can claim that he tried.
Jason would be lying if he said he wasn't blinded by Bruce's sudden smile. And just like that, Jason was brought back to the more happier times of his teenhood. Jason wasn’t an exception to the need for approval from Bruce Wayne. There was a reason why once you’re a part of the batfam, no one can never really leave. You become hooked and once you're flying high on it, he can take it all away for weeks, even months. However, another result is actually leaving for a time. Dick, Jason (obviously), Tim, Cass, and Steph, even Babs. They had all left at some point, but even from those breaks, the wash of Bruce’s approval was imprinted. Jason had fought that instinct for so hard and so long that all his relationships would never go back to what they were. Eventually, everyone comes back to try and coexist with it.
It was only a matter of time before Damian had to pass through the final leg of this long endured initiation into the batfam. But to Jason, he hopes that the kid can maintain this somewhat decent relationship with his father.
“The last time everyone was here for a family dinner was Thanksgiving three years ago.”
Jason’s eyebrows raise, “Everyone?”
Bruce nods confidently, “Barbara is visiting, Stephanie is back for spring break, and Cassandra -as I’m sure you’re aware- has moved back almost half a year ago.”
“Oh wow, full house tonight.”
The older man looks wistful. Jason watches Bruce get that far off look, where he can only imagine how Bruce’s ideal family dinner unfolds. Thankfully, Alfred chooses that exact time to push through the kitchen’s swinging door.
“Well then,” Bruce clears his throat, broken out of his reverie, “I guess I better tell everyone else to stay for dinner.”
“Splendid idea, sir,” Alfred responds smoothly then turns to Jason as soon as Bruce leaves the room. “I’ve taken the liberty of pulling out the recipes we shall be using tonight. Although, I do have to say this may be a bit…much.”
Alfred pulls out a stack of index cards from his coat pocket with an amused look. Jason whistles, “The kid likes to eat.”
Alfred places the stack on the island, “To be fair, Master Jason, you did say all the food he likes. That is a very broad guideline to go by.”
The younger man grins and starts to take everything out of their bags. “Would it help if I said his favorites then?”
Alfred taps the pile thoughtfully, “That does cut this down considerably…."
Jason stops moving and steals a glance at Alfred who was studying him. He was somewhat prepared for the questioning that may have come with the request, he just wasn’t prepared for it this early. He was hoping that he would be busy prepping at least.
“Is there a particular reason why we are only cooking food palatable to Master Damian?”
“Not really.” Yes, yes he is very aware just how higher pitched that sounded.
Alfred lifts an amused eyebrow at Jason, but the younger man does not budge. A moment of silence later and the butler concedes with a sigh, “Very well then, Master Jason. Shall we get started?”
xXx
Jason had to say that this dish was the most unique thing he’s ever attempted. This was apparently Damian’s favorite by far, and the whole recipe was copied down word for word straight from the kid’s mouth. And according to Alfred, that was from the first night Damian started living with them. Oxblood was something he never would have expected to cook in his lifetime. However, the smell was pretty appetizing.
That was one conversation he attempted with Damian on one of their nights together. Considering that the kid had gone vegetarian, was he going so far as to go vegan? The answer had been that the kid was not opposed to eating meat if they were killed humanely and all body parts were used, but considering that this was a hard thing to keep track for each and every animal, vegetarian was the easier option for now.
When I was younger, mother had a specialty soup made with oxblood. Thankfully, Pennyworth has a source where the animals are not killed for it.
So like donating blood to eat, interesting. What about lab-grown meat?
-Tt- I've tried the impossible burger. If they make lab-grown meat without it tasting like liver, then I will consider it an option.
He gives the stew one final stir and then covers it to let it simmer. He sidesteps to the setup beside the stove and picks up where he left off. Alfred had left him to deal with the manor’s laundry. Considering that the manor was almost at full capacity, it would be a while before the butler came back. But before Jason could get lost in the motions of making dolmas, there was some commotion outside one of the two doors to the kitchen.
“Alfred is definitely cooking up a feast. I wonder why-”
The door swings open and in walk Dick, Tim, and Cassandra, with Dick and Tim freezing at the sight of Jason standing there surrounded by steam, hands full of lab-grown meat filling, and covered in an almost frilly apron. For a moment, he freezes too. Of course, Bruce had said everyone was here, but another thing he did not mentally prepare for was actually interacting with his siblings until dinner.
“Not Alfred,” the second eldest in the room states and sidles up comfortably next to Jason. That wasn’t much to go by since they were about the same age anyway. She uncovers the oxblood soup and basks in the smell before she takes up stirring.
Tim is the first of the other two men to unfreeze, inspecting Jason’s handwork while walking up to the island.
“Soooo,” Tim drags that word on for a bit, “what’s the occasion?”
Jason, without missing a beat, places his finished dolma onto the forming stack located slightly to the left. “You don’t gotta worry your head about that.”
He hopes that he looks at least collected on the outside, but his nervousness rises as he watches Tim look around, studying all the food that Jason had made or was preparing. It wouldn’t be long before he figured out what Jason was doing, and he curses the kid for it.
Dick, the last to recover, follows Tim and sits at one of the bar stools opposite of Jason and Cassandra.
“It’s sort of a big deal when it’s you that’s cooking, Jay,” Dick says, reaching over to pluck one of the piping hot potstickers out from the steam basket.
“Hah!… Hah,” Dick breathes through his mouth while he fans at his face.
Tim nods in agreement, ignoring Dick’s sounds of pain. “This all seems to be Dami-”
Jason coughs loudly, catching Cassandra’s small smile of amusement. She’d probably already deduced it too.
“Maybe I just got tired of the taste of beer and ramen every night,” he spouts, then directs his gaze to the woman standing next to him who had taken a spoon to taste the soup, “Cass had the right idea, you guys could make yourselves useful and help me out with these. Ah, except you Dickie-bird, you’re fine right there. Just don’t eat everything.”
Tim shrugs, not objecting before he washes his hands and takes one of the wooden cutting boards from a shelf. The smaller man situates himself on the other side of Jason, who had rearranged the station so the growing pile of dolmas, the grape leaves, and the filling were between them.
“And why can’t I help?” Dick whines, once he manages to swallow a bit of the food in his mouth.
“Because you burn what you cook.” Jason doesn’t hold back the laugh that comes tumbling out of his mouth. Cassandra’s childlike bluntness always took him by surprise while Dick’s pout was just the additional cherry on top. The eldest takes another and suffers through the burning sensation, much to everyone's amusement.
"You remember that Damian is vegetarian right?" He says once he's able to talk again.
"It's made in a lab."
"No kidding?" Dick holds it up into the light like it was a diamond to inspect it, "It tastes like it's real pork. He's okay with that?"
Jason shrugs, "I mean technically, it still is pork. As long as it doesn't taste like liver, he should be cool with it."
And then Jason shows Tim how to prepare one before they fall into an easy silence. He had made about five different dishes for tonight, with this batch being the last of it. The thing was he had already steamed a lot that the leftover ingredients were for him to take home and prepare for himself and a few for Alfred to make at a later date.
After about half an hour of Dick eating half a dozen potstickers, Cass sampling the other dishes, and Tim obsessively making sure that the grape leaves were secure (Jason has to admit that the atmosphere was actually really pleasant), he sees a flash of light across the room followed by the distinct sound of a shutter flash.
Whispers and giggling coming from the other side of the door before the culprits burst through. Barbara wheels herself in followed by a grinning Stephanie Brown, her wrist flicking in the air as she fans the polaroid she just took.
Jason rolls his eyes. “Just need the two actual Waynes in here and then it’ll be a true reunion.”
“It’s a sight to see when Jason is the one that’s cooking. What would be even better is if Dick actually manages to make something without ruining it that isn't cereal,” Barbara teases.
“Ouch, Babs.” Dick gives her a weak smile.
“Well,” Stephanie singsongs, coming around to be beside Cassandra to hip bump the other woman, “she ain’t wrong there, Dick.”
Dick grabs one of the cooled potstickers he had plucked out and handed it over to Barbara, which she takes thankfully. “Alright, that’s three against three.”
“Actually,” Tim cuts in, “make that four.”
Jason nods, “Five.”
“Aw, screw all of you,” Dick shoots back without malice.
Stephanie frowns at the pot in front of Cassandra. “Uh, Jay, you do know that Damian and Cass are the only ones that really eat this, right?”
“No worries, there’s plenty of other food.”
“Yeah about that,” Tim starts.
“-all of this stuff is what Dami likes to eat,” Stephanie interjects.
Jason goes still, avoiding eye-contact with all of his bat-siblings, then rolls his eyes upward and counts the tiny speckles on the ceiling tiles. The underlings of the Greatest Detective in the world...of course, one of them was bound to say it out loud. His skin really starts to itch from everyone's eyes on him. Once he finally gathers the nerve to look around, the range of expectant faces overwhelms him and he feels his face start to heat up. Gone were the familiar conflicting emotions on some of their faces, which made his chest tight from giddiness?
Welp, that was new.
“You guys could set the table,” he grits out.
None of them move, much less say anything. And fuck, Jason knows he can’t avoid not talking.
“This is to say thanks for helping out with the case we’ve been working on.” Even now it sounds really weak to his ears.
Babs crosses her arms under her chest and gives him a pointed look over her glasses, “There’s gotta be more than that, or else you’d have been cooking our favorite meals for ALL of us for a while now.”
“Yeah, last I checked, I didn’t get a homemade meal courtesy of the Red Hood-” Stephanie gasps and clasps her hands to her mouth, eyes comically going wide at Jason. The raven-haired beauty between her and Jason gives an imperceptible nod, while Tim’s grin grows sharp within Jason’s peripheral.
Jason swears and wipes his hands on his apron roughly. He turns around to get the pot he used earlier and turns back with a not so subtle bang on the counter to Dick and Barbara leaning in a lot closer than before, unflinching at the sound.
“Why can’t you guys mind your own damned business?” He puts the prepped dolmas into the pot none too gently.
Dick has his head in his hands, staring intently at Jason. “The only time I’ve ever seen you cook food was for that one girl that came over for dinner when you were a sophomore in high school.”
Babs glances over at Dick with curiosity while Tim finishes his last roll and pops it in next to the one that Jason put, deftly avoiding Jason's jerky movements.
“If I remember correctly, you had this huge crush on her and wanted to impress her with your cooking,” Dick furrows his brows in thought, “but that wouldn’t be right. You don’t like Damian, and you certainly don’t have a…crush…on Damian.”
Dick pauses, then lifts his head off of his hands, locking eyes with Jason, and then straightens in such a way that you'd know he'd been around speedsters for a certain amount of time. “Unless you do have a crush on Damian.”
Jason tries to keep his face neutral, but his silence was answer enough for the rest of them. The air gets thick before all chaos breaks loose. The barrage of voices came from all sides of the room.
“Oh My God, you like Damian?!” “How long have you liked him?” “It was pretty obvious.” “Called it.”
Jason places a plate on top of the food in the pot before he fills it with water. “I do not confirm nor deny having a crush -of all things- on the demon spawn.”
Stephanie pushes away from the island and points at Jason in accusation with the corner of the Polaroid, the picture half-formed, “Oh you so do.”
“There’s no hiding it, Jason.” If Tim’s grin got anymore sharper, Jason could probably use it to chop more vegetables. Jason chuckles at the thought of banging Tim's head on the counter repeatedly but stops when he sees that Dick has not budged at all.
“You,” Dick emphasizes by holding his hands out towards Jason, then he moves them to the side, lost in thought, “and Damian.”
Barbara adjusts her glasses and gives Jason a rueful smile, “Odd pairing, but it makes sense.”
“Right? Your immediate reaction would be like ‘Woah!’ but then if you think about it, they would be good for each other.” Stephanie says with animated hands.
“Fuck. Me.” Jason mutters under his breath.
“Nah, Damian could do that,” Tim counters.
“Or Jason to Damian,” Cassandra adds.
This time Jason snatches a clean towel from the counter and hides his face in it, knowing that it was way beyond the suitable normal color of pale. He hears the loud, ringing smack of a high five behind him, followed by loud giggling from the two.
"I swear, I will shoot each and every one of you in the foot.” Was his towel lessening the threat? Yeah, but it was a better option than looking at any of them at the moment. Then hears a snort from Barbara.
Ah crap,
Poor choice of words, but she was always a good sport when it came to her injury. If there was one thing she was fond of with Jason, it was his anger towards the one that caused them the most hurt. He-who-must-not-be-named, if you will. Yeah, he took that from Harry Potter. Voldemort wasn't the only unspeakable name.
“Is there a reason to be this loud?”
The only person -or well, one of the two people who would have made the situation much worse had stepped in.
“Nothing, no reason at all,” Barbara responds way too quickly for Jason's liking, “Cass, Steph, why don’t you guys help me set the table. Better yet, you two too.”
“Todd?”
Jason sighs and lowers his arms to the sight of the other batsiblings filing out with plates and cutlery, which had been set there by Alfred. They were all abnormally silent but each one of them with shit-eating grins. His gaze slides to Damian whose head was tilted in a questioning manner as his eyes sweep over the scene before him.
“Uh, hey, Damian.”
“What’s all this?”
Jason replaces the pot of oxblood with the pot full of dolmas. “I was getting tired of the taste of my usual recipes,” Jason does a one-shoulder shrug, ignoring the heat of his probably red face, “I figured that since I was here, I may as well cook for everyone.”
The kid’s face was really unreadable.
“With Alfred’s help…of course,” he adds.
Jason’s breath hitches when Damian comes around to his side, peering at what was on the stove. The kid was close enough that Jason could smell what hair product and body soap he had used. It wafts and mixes with the other scents in the kitchen.
While most cologne would counter the scents of the kitchen, the smell of lemongrass is fitting with the smells of the Asian dishes that Jason had cooked up. Jason starts to drown from the kid's presence, his smell, the water droplets that dripped from his hair and trickled down his neck. He gets lost at the thought of following those water trails with his tongue but snaps back to Earth when he hears Damian's voice.
“I doubt you would have much of a taste for seonjiguk.”
“While I do go for the more traditional chili dogs and pizza, I’m not opposed to trying new food.”
Damian hums absently, then reaches down to take the spoon that Cassandra had used to sample the soup with and dips it into the pot to taste. He would have warned the kid about the used spoon, but one, he was still nervous with the kid's close proximity, and two, all of them have shared food with one another that sharing germs wasn't much of a concern anyway. However, he was envious that Cassandra had just shared an indirect kiss with Damian.
Jason balks at the ridiculousness of that thought. Indirect kiss? What was he ten?
"This," the kid starts thoughtfully with a fond smile, "tastes the closest to my mother's."
"I uh-," Jason clears his throat, "made sure to go to Alfred's place so it's ethically to your standards. All the other dishes that have meat in them actually contain lab-grown meat. So those are also ethically safe."
Damian reaches across to get one of the leftover potstickers that Dick left out to cool. Unlike the eldest Robin, he takes a bite into it rather than stuffing the whole thing in his mouth, and Jason almost groans at the sight of the younger man’s lips wrapping around the appetizer. There was a light glistening on Damian’s upper lip from the grease of the filling, and Jason goes cross-eyed when he sees Damian’s tongue follow the trail. It seems his eyes have been doing that every time the kid was around.
Damian takes no notice in Jason's discomfort as he savors the taste with his eyes closed. With each methodical chew, the kid’s face softens.
“Decent.”
“Thanks,” Jason gulps. Two compliments in a row. Jason feels his pride wash over him and his pants go tight until he hunches over in hopes that his pants aren’t tenting that much. God, is the addictive nature of Bruce Wayne’s approval genetic? It had already been a confusing time for Jason and his hormones when he was Robin, but getting turned on from praising words from Damian Wayne?
“Why don’t you help me take the food out to the table?” He suggests, ignoring how gruff his voice sounds.
Damian’s eyes open and it feels like the kid already knows what’s going on, and Jason’s breath catches in his throat.
“You made rice, yes?”
Jason deflates and then snorts, “After the rant that you and Cassandra gave. How could I not remember to?”
Damian nods with no joke. “Good.” Then he takes one of the plates and heads out of the kitchen. Jason sighs and shakes his head then takes deep breaths, trying to calm his beating heart. He knew it was pathetic, but there wasn’t much else to do other than bulldoze forward. And he thought he did pretty well with bulldozing since the kid should have definitely caught wind of Jason’s interest. It was pretty obvious.
He walks around and picks up the sweet and sour eggplant dish.
Maybe he'll see after this family dinner.
xXx
How?! How the fucking how? Three fucking days and not one word, not one inclination that Damian was aware. Hell if he did something obvious, the kid would still not notice. At this rate, he would probably have to kiss the kid to get his feelings across.
The dinner had been torturous, the constant teasing from everyone while Bruce and Damian were oblivious as to why. Well, maybe even then Bruce caught on, but Jason didn’t want to even think about that possibility. The focus was on Damian and this case of course. He can face daddy’s wrath once he gets the kid. And even then that was a very small chance.
But now that all of them knew, they went out of their ways to bring it up as much as possible. Even earlier this evening, he had received several texts within the batkids family chat, with all but Damian in there.
“Hey,” he starts, still laying on his back on the rooftop ledge, even now he knows that his phone is getting messages from the chat. Hell, there probably was a comm-link opened with them plotting several different ways to take him down with embarrassment via his attraction for Damian.
“You ever just think about not being in the gig anymore?”
Robin lowers his binoculars and places the mask in his direction.
“Not at all.”
Jason sits up slowly and pops his back before picking up his cigarette again. "That's gotta be a lie.”
Robin’s lip purse in the thought, then softly, “I was created for this. It is all I’ve known.”
Jason notices the kid's choice of words. Created...not born...
“Come on, Babybat. You have to have some frustrations with being Robin.”
Damian’s cheeks twinge with movement before he turns back to face the warehouse.
“Frustrations, yes, but none that I cannot deal with on my own. They have been new…relatively speaking.”
New frustrations for the kid?
Jason takes in Robin’s frame and notes all the tiny clues: stuttering breathing, rapidly beating pulse and avoiding eye contact. The kid was embarrassed.
Oh.
OH.
Jason swallows with difficulty. “Everyone gets that at one point or another on patrol. Best is to just find release before you start swinging again.”
“I do,” the kid admits quietly.
Oh okay, so he could not breathe properly. Jason can only hear the blood rushing through his veins. And it’s a while before Jason can even utter another word. Maybe now would be the best time? Maybe not? God, would it be creepy if he did?
Fuck it.
“So, I’m just gonna go ahead and say it,” Jason curses under his breath before continuing, and what comes out is just babbling words. “I’ve been doing this for a few weeks now, and it’s like you’re not noticing what exactly I’m doing. It’s obvious, so obvious that everyone else knows. I mean I cooked a dinner of your favorite foods. How is that not hint enough for you? But for Superman’s cape, which mating dance do I have to do for you to realize that I like you?!”
He’ll admit, he does sound hysterical near towards the end there. His chest heaves with the exertion of finally telling the brat outright.
Robin directs his gaze back at Jason. “-Tt- Of course, you like me.”
His mouth drops open, speechless. Wow, that was said so simply. As if it was the most obvious thing. He had to hold back a laugh, a laugh he would have no control over. Oh, it was over! Now was just to wait for the kid’s acceptance or rejection, and if Jason were at all honest with himself, he'd take either option. They were a lot better than Jason continuously up in feelings limbo.
Robin’s lips stretch into a fond, close-lipped smile. “We are partners after all.”
The shock is instant. Jason isn’t sure how the kid could be this clueless. Then the too familiar act of free falling towards the dirty street flows around him. Jason's instincts kick in, with his hands reaching for his grappling gun before shooting it in a random direction. His body flips once more and then jerks with the sudden change of momentum. The gun reels him in, only for Jason to realize that the warehouse was coming in way too quickly, and he struggles to get his other grappling gun to shoot.
BANG
Thank god for the fucking helmet, is his first thought, but then it’s quickly overpowered by a sharp pain in his left shin. While there was a bang from his helmet connecting with the long windows of the warehouse, he vaguely recalls that it was one of his legs connecting with the ledge first. There’s no way he can move right now, however, he feels his arm lifting then a smaller body presses up against his side. Jason feels an arm wrap around his torso before they’re moving upwards.
His eyes closed and all he can just focus on is breathing through the blooming pain. It may also be the growing paranoia, but he thinks his leg is swinging in a place that should not be swinging. Just from that, it takes all his might not to throw up in his helmet.
It was always a bitch to clean whenever that happens.
Pretty soon they land, none too gently, a good 50 rooftops away from their location. The kid was fast on the line.
Jason throws off his helmet and falls onto his palms, leaving no weight on his injured leg, before he starts throwing up. While his pain tolerance was fairly high, unexpectedly (potentially) breaking his bones can get him to upheave his dinner.
Through his retching, Jason hears Robin tsk in disgust beside him. “I did not take you for an easy fainter, 'Hood.”
Jason spits away the bitter taste left in his mouth when his body stops, then wipes away any bile from his lips before he scowls up at Robin. “I didn't faint,” he grits out, maneuvering himself until he’s sitting and blinks away the involuntary tears that come from throwing up.
Robin’s expression screws up in concern, then he crouches down, reaching out for the older man’s leg.
“Don’t touch,” Jason snaps.
The kid frowns, dropping his hand, but keeps crouched next to Jason. “Don’t be even more of an idiot, Red Hood, it may be broken.”
“Oh,” Jason chuckles darkly, “more of an idiot?”
“Yes,” Robin stresses, “your carelessness alerted them of our presence.”
The older vigilante sucks in a breath. Then struggles to his feet, favoring one leg over the other. He notices that Robin stands up with him, but doesn’t try to reach out to help him again. Instead, the kid opts for crossing his arms over his chest.
“I’m heading home.”
Robin nods once, “I suppose it would be best to call it a night. Do…Do you need assistance returning home?”
“No, the idiot can manage just fine, thanks.” Jason knows his sarcasm is scathing right now, but he couldn’t care less, even when the kid straight up scowls at him.
“Fine,” Robin responds icily. Then doesn’t wait for Jason to be the first one to leave.
Once Jason is sure that he’s gone, he spends a good minute cursing loudly up at the sky. Of all the outcomes that could have happened, it was just his luck that it would be something like this.
xXx
He could say he is ashamed of how he’s been. After that disastrous confession that made him feel like he was in middle school again and almost breaking his leg, which would have left him out of commission for a good two months -thank god that wasn’t the case, just a very ugly bruise that took up half of his leg- he had not seen the kid since. His phone had been blowing up within the chat group, but instead of light teasing, there were concerned messages all around. After that night, Jason’s mood wasn’t the only one that had turned sour. Sure it may be a petty thing, but it did lighten Jason’s mood knowing that the kid was bothered too.
But after some coaxing from Roy and Kori, Jason had finally mustered up the will to get changed and went to where the kid had texted to meet him. Since this was in a place with a lot of foot traffic, it would have brought them more attention if Jason went out as Red Hood. The kid was probably out undercover too.
Jason rolls his shoulders under the jacket he had chosen for tonight. He muses that this was a jacket he had gotten before his trip to space. Oh well, it’s not like he’s strapped for cash anyway. He makes a mental note to go to proper clothes shopping.
Just then he feels the full force of someone trying to barrel him over. His hands reach up to steady the person and himself. Damian’s scent is what he registers first before he looks down at Damian’s annoyed glare.
Before Damian could say anything, sounds of heavy running came from around the corner. The kid pulls both of them into an alley next to them. It was a bit too forceful of a pull since Damian’s head hits the brick wall hard enough to make his teeth chatter.
The sounds of footsteps get louder.
Damian’s eyes flitter over Jason’s shoulder then zing right back, wide with panic. “Kiss me.”
“What?” Jason blurts out, which gets Damian to roll his eyes before he grips Jason’s shoulders with both hands and pulls him in until Jason feels the surprising softness of Damian’s lips.
Oh fuck. Oh fuck. Oh fuck.
The kiss wasn’t even a kiss by Jason’s standards, it was purely the basic definition of the act. Lips touching lips. And once Jason realized that his eyes shut close from the pure bliss he was enjoying. It was scary that all the worry and bad juju feelings he had for the past week all seems to evaporate. Nonetheless, he lets himself get lost and unconsciously initiates more of the kiss.
The older man hunches over Damian, unconsciously putting all of his weight against the kid, who doesn’t protest at all. This was all too much and happening too fast for Jason’s mind to keep up. The scent of lemongrass and herbs ropes around Jason, binding him that closer to Damian. With every breath he takes through his nose, he gets even more lost. The flat hand above Damian’s head adjusts so Jason’s weight was on his forearm instead, allowing him to completely cover Damian’s body with his own.
Once he’s situated better, Jason angles his head then slowly deepens the kiss. He almost stops when Damian moves underneath him, feeling lithe hands grab fistfuls of his shirt. The anticipation, the expectation of being pushed away, it levels Jason from the weightlessness that is quickly spreading throughout his body. But it never comes. Instead, the kid tentatively kisses back.
Jason knows he’s shaking from the adrenaline. Not like he cares at the moment though. Especially when he can reach up to cup the kid’s neck and jaw. Damian goes rigid for a second, most likely the fighting instincts preparing to attack back, but Jason caresses the kid’s cheek with his thumb.
God, it’s so fucking smooth. If given the chance, Jason could probably keep stroking that spot for hours.
Damian’s hands flatten to palms on Jason’s chest, then slide around Jason’s torso to pull Jason in until they are flush against each other.
Welp, there’s no hiding the erection now.
The kiss is suddenly broken, with Jason following after the kid’s lips for a split second. He inwardly groans. Not opening his eyes at all, he rests his forehead on the hand against the wall. Damian’s ear is right next to mouth, so he’s aware the kid can hear his ragged breathing.
“I believe they are gone now. They saw me around the entrance, hence why I needed you to kiss me.”
Jason takes pleasure in the fact that Damian’s voice was husky.
Wahid
Talatha
“Todd?”
“Give me a moment, Babybat,” Jason whispers hoarsely, but his mind blanks when the kid shivers against him. So he starts again, out-loud this time.
“Wahid…talatha…khamsa…saba,” the older man trails off, wracking his currently putty-like brain for the next number.
“Ahad ashr.”
Jason startles out of his thoughts, then backs off a little to look at the kid. He was a sight that Jason appreciates: pupils dilated, eyelashes long and curling to frame the baby blues with one eye slightly closed from Jason’s thumb still stroking his cheekbone, face darker from the flush of his skin, and his lips full and plump. However delectable Damian looks in this exact moment, his face is neutral.
“You’re counting in prime numbers?” Jason nods. "Eleven is ahad ashr.”
“Oh, shukran.” May as well thank the kid in his language anyway.
Jason doesn’t want to pull away, especially not when Damian gives him a smile that makes his eyes crinkle at the corners. To his credit, Damian doesn’t seem to be making a move to push Jason away either, just that his arms drop from the older man’s body.
“Do…do we have to go after them?” His hand drops away to hang awkwardly at his side.
“No.”
It’s at that instant that the floaty, post-kiss air dissipates and Jason can see the kid remembering the last time they were together. He sighs but doesn’t take a step back just yet.
“Look, I’m sorry. I didn’t faint. I also didn’t mean to be an ass-“
Damian snorts and Jason glowers back at him, “I’m trying to fucking apologize here. Not like it was entirely my fault.”
The kid looks aghast. “I understand I was…difficult when I first came here but-“
“No. No. Nono. That’s not…” Jason sighs, “Do you remember what we were talking about before I fell off the roof?”
His face scrunches up in concentration, “We were discussing our mutual respect for each other.”
Jason sighs again, this time with his whole body, “Not exactly. I said I like you.”
“Right, which is necessary for two people to work together.”
“No, you dipshit." Jason gives the two of them more distance between by stepping back a few more steps and quickly continues before the kid starts swinging, “I like you, Damian…like you like how Bruce likes Selina."
So the thing with assassin babies, and their beaten in assassin training, was that when trying to process new information, they were good at maintaining a poker face. And Damian wouldn’t be Damian if he wasn’t doing that right now. To cope with the silence, Jason amuses himself with the thought that Damian’s head was record-scratching back to what he had just said and Damian’s brain melting from it.
The kid then starts to blink rapidly, getting Jason to think maybe he did break the little Wayne.
“So,” Damian starts quietly, so quiet that Jason strains his ears to hear, “that was what Grayson and the others were talking about."
"I don't know what they said to you exactly."
"All those looks and jokes they were making to each other. They knew. And I was the last to know?" Damian questions incredulously.
This time Jason bursts out laughing. It's a laugh mixed with hysteria, absolute amusement, and just a smidgen of relief. He brings his hands up to his face and presses his bare palms to his eyes and continues laughing for a good moment.
By the time Jason is calmer, he drops his arms back to his side to the view of Damian looking petulant. It was cute.
Jason can't even erase the grin on his face, making the kid's pout even deeper. "It's not like I was trying to hide it. I've been trying to tell you that I like you for a few weeks now."
That does nothing to stop Damian's sulking.
"I literally told you I liked you last week. I even specifically said I made dinner with your favorite foods, which I did. Considering that everyone caught on that all of those dishes were the food you like, we all would have thought you'd have caught on. But for the actual biological son of Batman, you can be incredibly dense."
Well, the sulk does turn into a scowl, and it's fitting. "Is that how you talk to someone you like?"
"Yes."
It's interesting to actually see the kid blush from embarrassment. "But...how? Why?"
This time Jason steps closer to Damian, forcing the kid to look up at him again. "Can't really explain how. Not now anyway. I don't want to scare you off with that info. But for the why?" Jason's tone is soft, "I think out of everyone I know, you've understood me best. Sometimes I get into those moods and you just understand that that happens, and you don't bug me about it. Not everything has to be talked about, not for every time anyway. Trying to explain to someone who hasn't been resurrected so violently like we have, that the violence and anger and frustration that we have is like telling B to go kill someone with a gun." He smiles wryly at that and the kid does too.
"Not to mention how much hotter you've gotten."
Damian rolls his eyes.
"Right, yeah, can't make you blush from compliments since you already know how attractive you are." Jason runs a hand through his hair in exasperation.
"Todd...Jason, I..." Jesus, Damian looks like he's constipated with his loss of words.
"Don't strain yourself," Jason responds in bemusement, then after a beat sigh, "Look, you don't have to answer me right away. I know you never really considered me or anyone for that matter-"
"Not true," Damian cuts in sharply, then his cheeks turn a few shades darker. "That is to say, it is not true that I have not considered you romantically, nor are you the only one. However, those few times were brief thoughts."
That brightens Jason's mood greatly. "Well, again, you don't have to answer right away."
The younger man nods, "I cannot make an immediate decision based solely on those few times."
"Right, but now that you actually know," Jason steps closer to Damian, bringing one arm above Damian's head to lean on the wall, almost getting as close as they were when they were kissing, "would it be okay to kiss you again? I was actually holding back before. I wanna give myself a more lasting impression, ya know?"
It's a lot easier to seduce someone when they actually know Jason's intentions, and with Damian, it is a lot more amusing. The kid was so caught off guard, having really only used his own charms and seduction as a means to achieve a goal. His lack of experience was endearing.
His other hand comes up to cup Damian's jaw again, and his breath hitches just the tiniest bit.
Jason, in his element now, leans down until his forehead touches Damian's, his hooded eyes boring into Damian's, as his thumb slowly caresses Damian's bottom lip, soft lip. God so soft.
The older man says nothing else, knowing that this slow seduction was working for him. He makes no other movements, just his thumb running over Damian's lip over and over.
This time when Damian says, "Kiss me, Todd," it's the barest of whispers.
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tell me about ur ocs
Anon, tbh, you just made my day. ♡
I won't go into all my ocs since I got quite a lot, but I'll do as short of a synopsis of the main cast of a comic I lowkey wanna make.
So, the world is pretty much the same as ours(save band names being changed for copyright reasons, so we have Your Physical Attraction, Jump In Girl and Calm. away from the library as our trinity). The plot follows my two gaybies: Nathan and Cameron and is set in motion when the (purely fictional) band Static Dreams announces they're looking for a drummer.
Now, back to characters.
Nathan is my sad baby boy. He's got really bad self-esteem issues and gender dysphoria and 120% of his closet space is hoodies because we all know that's trans culture. Of course, hoodies are not the only thing in the closet- so is he. Anyways, with all the shit this baby got thrown at him he just stopped talking all-together part because he doesn't believe he should be listened to and part because his voice creates him a lot of dysphoria.
Now, enter Cameron. The man, the dad friend, the legend, the legitimate ray of fucking sunshine and Nathan's only friend. He absolutely LOVES hanging out with Nathan and even learned ASL so that they could communicate better. The two of them are renting a storage unit which they use as a rehersal space and for Cameron to crash sometimes. He lives with his mother and younger sister who is roughly about 6-12(haven't decided yet). Everything else is possible spoilers, sorry.
Now, for Static Dreams.
Static Dreams is a four-member band formed from Jackson(Jack), Theodore(Teddy), Dallas and thier former drummer Brian.
Jack is the lead guitarist and singer of the group. He's punk-rock guy trough and trough with a haircut that's pretty much a sideshaved and heavily gelled green mullet. He has a pretty abrasive personality, but also an absolute soft spot for his girlfriend. I picture them having a really Morticia-Gomez Addams kinda relationship. He's the only straight character of the cast, but he'll fight anyone who dares say shit about his friends or the LGBTQ+ comunity. He has two older brothers, but he can't stand them(the feeling is mutual). Both him and Teddy are super sesitive to angry shouting(all other shouting is fine) and often have to leave the room or blast super loud music in their headphones so they don't have a panic attack.
Now, Teddy- he's an exclusionists worst nightmare. He's an amab nonbinary, he uses he/him pronouns, he used to be a very obnoxious heavily female-presenting scemo(he's more goth at the time of the main plotline) and he's aroace. It took him a while to realise that last one. He's the son of the band's lable manager, but got his possition as a bassist and back-up vocalist because he's genuinely really good at what he does. His parents are divorced and he lives with his dad, who he has a really bad relationship with(hence the screaming thing). He's genuinely a sweet, supportive person and lovingly dubbed the fandom's aunt. He doesn't talk much and is coming out of a rough patch with an emotionally abusive relationship and alcohool abuse.
Dallas is an absolute bi disater and a mom friend. Him and Cameron are the ultimate parental unit and take care of the entire band pretty much(and spoil them like a lot 'cuz they're both really outwardly affectionate characters). He loves bandanas and looks like he belongs in more in a k-pop band because of his asian heritage and affinity for bright colors(red is his favourite). He's also a little bit of a weeb because some girls he was friends with in like 3rd grade made him watch Sailor Moon and he accidentally spiraled downward from there. He has three older brothers and two younger sisters.
Brian is Jack's cousin. Him and Jack used to live down the street from eachother, so when they were kids they would hide in Brian's treehouse whenever their parents were fighting. The two are the ones who started the band, actually! Brian left the band because he found a better deal becoming a music producer in their hometown. He's one of the only married characters.
And that's that! These are some of my children, who I love very much and who I've done dirty a lot of times(yeah, I feel bad about it, they're my kids).
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so hi, i've kinda had this blog abandoned but i didn't mean to. i apologize, i still love spiderman and tom so much, i wish i could be more active in here and talk about it more, i wish i could do more edits and stuff, but my laptop is a macbook air and has no storage to use my photoshop, and i've also been in college and use a lot of programs which consumes more memory and time. but i also don't go on mobile on tumblr that much because for some reason i can't scroll past 3 posts and the rest never load, i've checked and i don't know if it's my own wifi but my phone is new and has a lot of storage and i still can't use this app, it takes a loooot to load anything. so that is why i never really post a lot. it sucks bc i miss it here.
but i'm still gonna be around here from time to time, occasionally reblogging stuff but that would be all . however, i'm very active on different platforms, if you wish to follow me, i do post about spidey and my other fandoms :)
i go by @spideysiiver on twitter. i don't tweet that much cuz i'm a flop but it's easier and faster to use bc i can check it with my data, also my personal acc is @andy_vaie
you can find me at tik tok as @spideysilver as well :D and my other acc is @andy_vaie
also my ao3 is "moons of jupiter"
and i never thought i would say this but, i'm very much active on facebook groups, i started to use it a lot lately if u wanna add me! https://www.facebook.com/andyy.frost
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2500+ mostly unedited words on why I love Simple Plan
Here we go, I’ll try not to ruin it:
Come with me back to my childhood. Far enough back that you might not remember when you first saw something that is extremely important to you, for me apparently that’s 2002. The live-action adaptation Scooby-Doo comes out that summer and it has what I like to call “kick ASS pop-punk soundtrack”. I remember liking the movie so much that my friends and I definitely tried to reenact the entire thing on the playground one day. Anyway, Simple Plan had a song on the soundtrack, It was Grow Up and it plays over an establishing shot of Spooky Island. Yes, I’ve seen the movie several times and I know the song by heart.
Go forward a year and another movie comes out with a “kick-ass pop-punk soundtrack”. It was 2003...anyone have any guesses? Steve Martin fans in the room? It was Cheaper By the Dozen, a movie kind of about a book that I don’t know if anyone has actually read. But the movie is great, I love it. You may not think so but I reserve the right to life things that are objectively bad. (See my love of the live-action Scoo-Doo movies) Anyway, Simple Plan had a song on the soundtrack. It was I’m Just A Kid and it plays over the scene where all the kids have their first day at the new school and some preppy asshole shouts “MY LATTE!”.
One more year passes and Scooby-Doo 2: Monsters Unleashed comes out and it, for a period of time, becomes MY FAVORITE movie. Like, I went on a trip for a kinda nerdy thing I did in 4th grade and we watched Scooby-Doo 2 easily 4 times over the course of that one week trip. AND I’m pretty sure this trip is the first time remember listening to No Pads, No Helmets, Just Balls from beginning to end. Anyway, again, Simple Plan had a song written for the film on the soundtrack. It was Don’t Wanna Think About You and it’s seriously...just...so good! It’s emotional, and it like perfectly accents what’s happening in the movie! I cry when Shaggy says “They’re like totally having a montage in there without us Scoob”
Now I’m just gonna rattle off a ranking of their soundtrack appearances as they appear in my brain:
Don’t Wanna Think About You from Scooby-Doo 2: Monsters Unleashed.
Because duh
I’m Just A Kid from Cheaper by the Dozen.
Kinda scandalous for this to beat Grow Up but I like the scene it plays over better
Grow Up from Scooby-Doo.
This could be purely nostalgia-driven but I just love the movie so much and it was basically where so many people first heard them and there is a huge significance to that in my head.
What’s New Scooby-Doo from the show of the same name.
This song is awesome and I remember seeing them play it for what they claimed was the first time in over a decade in Santa Anna California in 2016 and I remember Pierre doing a little intro but not saying what song it was and I looked at my sister and said “holy shit they’re about to play What’s New Scooby-Doo!” so that’s why it’s on this list even though it’s TV and it’s my list I’ll do what I want. That memory warms my cold heart
Christmas List from the Unaccompanied Minors soundtrack
Full Disclosure I still haven’t this movie (what kind of movie guy am I?) but the song is also a bonus track and also full of dated pop culture references like PlayStation2 and DVDs which I love to chuckle at to this day. When I got my first MacBook in early 2012 one of the first things I did was use garage band to split the bonus track off as it’s own track.
Vacation from New York Minute
I had a weird interaction a little over a year ago where a Gen Z kid was randomly singing it and I was like “How do you know this song?” and he was like “oh some Mary-Kate and Ashley movie” and I said “So it is Vacation by Simple Plan. Accept I know it because I love Simple Plan. To this day I have never seen that movie but I know it’s from that movie and this little memory gives that song a special place.
Happy Together, a cover that was produced and on the soundtrack to Freaky Friday
This song it the top cover because it’s actually good AND the movie has grown in a significant tentpole of pop culture
Can’t Keep My Hands Off You from Disney’s Prom
This came out in 2011, I haven’t seen it. I imagine it’s not great but seeing as how the song is pretty good on its own and I have no other attached feelings it goes here on the list. But even this movie appearance isn’t as unsatisfying as...
Surrender from the Fantastic Four (2005)
We all remember this movie, people have mixed opinions. Mine are basically that the movie is fine, there are definitely better superhero movies now but this doesn’t necessarily deserve to be panned at trash or anything. It was 2005 and it’s at least as good and Sam Rami’s Spiderman.
Apparently there is a site for this but it doesn’t include New York Minute but it does include Clockstoppers. A movie I know I’ve seen but I don’t remember noticing there was a Simple Plan in it. There was a cool scene where they pause time next to a sprinkler and they push the droplets around and stuff. I just found this out after I typed my list. You can look at the link but it doesn’t have my opinions on it so why would you?
So, if you’ve read this blog before or maybe even know me in person you know I’m a big movie buff so it’s no surprise that I kinda discovered my love for them through movies. However, Simple Plans music nostalgia goes really deep.
I remember my first MP3 player. It was terrible, I’m going to date myself a little here but it only has physical buttons, it worked like a flash drive so if you didn’t organize your file folders properly it was basically impossible to navigate, and it only held like 100 songs. In comparison, my old sister had a Microsoft Zune. (You know Zune? The thing that Star Lord gets and the end of Guardians of the Galaxy Vol. 2 which was directed by James Gunn; the same guy who did the screenplays for both the live action Scooby-Doo movies that introduced me to Simple Plan in the first place! Which is part of why I’m writing this post!! If that dumb full-circle moment doesn’t give you warm and fuzzies you can stop reading) She had a pretty substantial library already and I had to carefully pick and choose what to put on it and I remember one the first songs was My Alien which isn’t a super popular track but it spoke to middle school me. There were definitely more of their songs from NPNHJB and Still Not Getting Any because self-titled Simple Plan didn’t come out until 2008. Eventually, I got an iPod nano with a whopping 16gb of storage and my life changed! I could hold basically all the music I wanted and that included all three of the Simple Plan albums that were out at the time. I have a very clear memory of making my mom listen to them a few times on the way to/from the orthodontist (which was a 40 minute drive because everything is far away in rural America) and she told me that I was just as good as a singer as Pierre. There’s no way, Pierre is an icon.
Over the course of the last decade, a few Simple Plan experiences have occurred around my birthday and I’m convinced they must know when my birthday is. The first time this happened was 2011 when they released Get Your Heart On! Which might be my favorite album if I was going to pick one but they’ve literally never written a bad song so why actually pick favorites? I remember a friend saying “This sounds like their old stuff and I love it” and I was offended. Like, how dare they slander Still Not Getting Any and Simple Plan like that?
As high school went on I started to have a very stressful Junior year. I bit off more than I could shew academically and one day I had a massive stress attack and I basically shut down but Untitled really got me through, I listened to so much Simple Plan that night but Untitled really helped me calm down and relax enough to get my head straight. While I’m talking about the song I’m gonna mention it was a charity track and the music video WILL make you cry but it’s super important and you should watch it.
Forward a couple more years and I’m in my first semester of college. I had chosen the wrong path at the time and I was in the process of fixing that by completely changing up my education including changing schools and giving up a rather big scholarship. I was feeling pretty good but uneasy about what I was doing at the time and what do you know? Right when I needed something comforting Simple Plan gave me an early Christmas present and released the EP Get Your Heart On - The Second Coming and every track on the EP reached into my soul and helped me process. I also started to GYHO again heavily and Gone Too Soon helped my deal with how much I was missing home and how much I missed a lot of my friends (I know the song isn’t really “about” that but it helped).
At this point in my life, I’ve mostly given up hiding my fandom. I started following the band members on social media and I was VERY closely following the release of the next album. Which I was sure was going to be released by my birthday. (this is the second time a birthday coincidence happened) The band had another plan, which was to hype me up for an album drop and then only release a non-album single Saturday that wasn’t even on the album that came out later! I accepted their gift though because I wanted more songs so desperately! I was so thirsty for Simple Plan content that I also listened to an episode of the Lead Singer Syndrome podcast with Pierre and learned so much about the band and their careers together, it warmed my heart! The album Taking One For the Team wouldn’t drop for almost an entire year! But when it did they also announce their first tour in the US in years!
In early October 2016, I finally saw then live for the first time. I already talked about this, it’s when they played What’s New Scooby-Doo! The place where my sister and I chose to stand was near a stantioned-off area that looked VIP. Before the band went on their families came out escorted by security and watched the set right behind me! That trip was so fun! It was also my first concert ever, I had been to Warped Tour the previous summer but I choose to call that my first festival.
The tour I saw them on kinda just morphed into the 15th-anniversary tour for NPNHJB. Remember when I went on about Scooby-Doo? Yeah reader, it’s been 15 years. I saw Simple Plan for the second time in April 2017 and I was able to convince a bunch of Set It Off (great band) fans to come with me because they were also playing. My roommate at the time said that seeing me at the concert was one of the times they’d seen me happiest. I thought that was very sweet and I’m glad I was able to have that experience with those people. Weirdly enough though, I had just started a new job and my new boss was also at the show. There isn’t much more to that particular story but I still think it’s funny.
After this I closed a chapter of my life by leaving the fraternity I was a part of for most of my college experience. At the alumni ceremony, people often do personal things for those leaving, gifts, speeches, etc. For me, a few of my Brothers played Welcome To My Life. It was one of the sweetest things anyone could have done.
The next time I saw them was on the final Warped Tour. I was so excited! I took time off so I could go and see them in San Diego because it was closer to (this is the 3rd coincidence) my birthday! I drove to San Diego alone and stayed in a hotel alone and had a couple of meals alone and saw a movie alone all so I could see Simple Plan. I did meet up with some friends at the festival on the day of and it was amazing! One of the people is very close to me and we shared a lot of music that day. I waited in line for over an hour at the SP merch tent and I was going to have sign some stuff with a happy birthday but they ended up having to leave the tent to get ready for their set and I nabbed a quick picture with Pierre. They closed their set with Perfect and everything felt melancholy but very “right” you know?
Most recently I saw Simple Plan alone in Phoenix. It was awesome! I was uneasy just seeing a show alone but being in that room with people who probably have a ton of stories just like this one (though probably not so many words) was exhilarating. They definitely had the best set and this time I noticed some of the things they kinda always do at shows. Like Chuck crowd surfing or the same call response to their most popular songs and another rendition of What’s New Scooby-Doo!
This pretty much brings us to the present, thanks for taking this 2500+ word journey down memory lane with me. Currently, I’m feeling upset that the tour planned for this summer was called off because of the COVID-19 epidemic and I kinda have no idea when the album might drop. I am in no way diminishing anything that has happened to anyone else but for me, the current way of the world has taken a lot of what makes me happy away. My career is on hold, I can’t go to movies, and it even took away Simple Plan. Writing this has been mildly therapeutic and that was the point. If for some reason this post reaches the band I just want to thank them all. Pierre, Chuck, Seb, David, and Jeff. You guys are unbelievably amazing! Thank you for being somehow integrated into a lot of things that I really hold dear but most importantly thank you for the music! I can’t wait for more! Now, I’ll leave this train of thought before all this nostalgia makes me sick (get it?).
I tried not to ruin it but this is almost 2600 words so I probably did.
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