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katnissmellarkkk · 3 years

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Angst #9

Hahahaha, so uh... you wanted angst? You got it. It may not be exactly what you wanted but it’s what came to mind when you sent this prompt.

This turned out wayyyyy longer than I intended but 🤷🏼‍♀️. I always overwrite 😂💁🏼‍♀️🤦🏼‍♀️.

Context I think necessary to know for this prompt is that it’s set four years Post-Mockingjay, three years post “so after”, and I think that’s all you need to know?

Oh yeah, and I should also mention that I definitely took creative liberties here. And also, trigger warning for choking.

Prompt: Angst “Did it mean anything to you? Did I mean anything to you?”

"Peeta," I yelp as he playfully splashes me. "Stop."

"Get in here," he demands, pointing to the water his whole body is immersed in.

"No," I refuse, laying on my back, maybe a little teasingly. "I just dried off."

Today was a particularly sunny day, with the bright light from outside our windows rousing us from bed even before our usual wake up time. I know the people of Twelve will be disappointed they can't get their bread and pastries today--especially seeing that Sunday is the most popular day at the Mellark Bakery--but I just couldn't pass up a lazy day at the lake with Peeta.

Still though, I didn't get as much sleep as I've grown accustomed to and after hours of swimming in the lake—and, jokingly, teaching Peeta to find katniss roots—I'm lethargic. My exhausted body is perfectly happy to lay in the grass with the sun beating down on me, either darkening or burning my skin.

But Peeta, it would seem, has other plans.

"Don't you dare," I hiss as his cacophonous footsteps approach. Even without the noise he still makes when he moves, the sound of dripping water would have given him away.

Not listening to me and definitely not heeding my warning—either he's grown fearless in the four years since the war or I've lost my bite and grown soft on him—Peeta reaches down and grabs me up by the waist, easily hoisting me up into his arms.

"Did you say you dared me?"

"Peeta," I try to command, as a last ditch effort, before bracing myself for what I know is coming.

Like clockwork, just as I have my eyes shut and sucked in a breath, Peeta tosses me in the deepest part of the lake before jumping back in himself.

I easily push my head above the surface just as he creates a massive splash of water with his impact.

"You're going to drain the lake," I complain as his hands find themselves on my hips, pulling me in closer. I go without resistance, but remain annoyed he just tossed me back in the water.

His lips find residence on my cheek, trailing lower and lower, underneath my jaw and down my neck, a non-verbal apology.

"Is all this water really good for your prosthetic?" I murmur after a long moment, some of the irritation fading from my body as he kisses down my shoulder softly.

"My leg is waterproof, Katniss," he reminds, chuckling a little.

"Oh yeah," I try to respond but his lips trail down to my chest, pushing me up higher against him, and speaking becomes difficult. "Generous of them," is all I can manage.

He lets out a real laugh this time. "Can always depend on the generosity of the Capitol, can’t we?" He quips just as I capture his lips with my own.

I don't know if in the last three years that we’ve been together I've become a better kisser—I've definitely become more experienced—and I can't say for certain if our kisses feel any different now to him, but I do know for a fact that Peeta has grown leaps and bounds with time. His lips, which were always soft and warm, now move with expertise, now hold a confidence I didn't realize was missing all that time we were putting on a show. Kissing Peeta now is another kind of experience and one I never knew I needed, one I never thought to ask for, before I had it.

Of course, I get some credit here. I am the one who's lips have given him the practice, who's tongue has freely wrestled with his, the one who he's gained all his expertise from.

As we pull apart for air, my face lolling down into his shoulder, burrowing there, I hear a peculiar sound. One I don't cognitively recognize at first but my sense memory captures instantly. It's a sound that makes my stomach twist and lurch before I can comprehend exactly why.

Peeta tenses too, rather abruptly. I feel his hands grip my thighs tighter to him, almost wrapping me around him, as if to keep me protected from whatever is buzzing above us.

The buzzing only gets stronger—so much stronger, in only a matter of seconds—and I have to consciously force myself to breathe as it hits me where that sound is coming from.

Tracker jackers. A whole lot of them.

Someone, somewhere, must have knocked over a nest. Someone must have been both unlucky and careless and somehow expelled an entire hive by mistake.

That's what I tell myself, at least. That this was purely a mistake. That this isn't an attack, set out to hurt us, to endanger us for deadly entertainment labeled a game.

Because unleashing a whole hive of tracker jackers on us, while we're out alone, secluded, in the middle of the woods, is the exact kind of thing the Gamemakers would do.

"Katniss," Peeta whispers, his voice close to my ear now. I can tell instantly that he's petrified.

Of course he's petrified. Tracker jacker venom is exactly what he was injected with, over and over again, in an attempt to destroy his memory, his mind, the very essence of his being.

"Katniss?" He says again, a little louder and a little rougher. But I'm still too shocked to move. I'm useless, completely frozen in place while the horrible creatures, that are deadly in large quantities—just ask Glimmer—finally come into view, circulating above us.

"We need to run," he urges, and I don't have to look at him to know his blue eyes are desperate.

Nodding blankly, I don't take my eyes off of the venomous creatures flying over our heads. Somehow, a very sore, exhausted part of my brain wakes back up and I feel myself go into survival mode.

A mode in which I had wished to never transition into again.

My legs unwrap from Peeta's waist and I interlock our fingers, squeezing his hand as tightly as I can. I swim to the edge of the lake, towing him behind me, and climb onto the grass just as I hear the buzzing grow closer.

Peeta is only inches, if even that, behind me, and we both grab our shirts and pants from the blanket we set out and dress ourselves while moving through the trees. Our soaked skin makes this more challenging but not altogether impossible, and soon I feel Peeta's hand yanking on mine, propelling me forward.

I know he's even more afraid than I am when I realize he's running ahead of me, dragging me behind him. Peeta is by far a slower runner than I am. The idea that there's enough fear in him to compensate for a naturally slower gait and a fake leg makes my heart ache.

I hear the tracker jackers still getting closer though, no matter how fast we move. It's not a surprising, really, as when these creatures were designed, they were made to lock in on a target and chase it down until it died. After all, they were made to be a weapon in the first war.

And they were used as one in both.

I feel myself let out a loud sigh of relief as the sound of the wasps begins to fade away, as we come closer and closer to the edge of the woods.

Still, it isn't enough. It's never enough.

Peeta's prosthetic does better than I cynically imagined but in the end, it gives out just as I knew it would and he goes tumbling face-first down into the dirt and branches. I didn’t see it but I can tell by the way his leg, his only real leg, is scraped up, that it must have gotten caught on the fallen branches strewed across the ground.

"Peeta!" I scream, louder than I intend to. Louder than I know I should.

I kneel down beside him, adrenaline still pumping through my veins like red, hot blood, and I yank and tug at his arm, trying to force him to stand and run again, as my wail evidently alerted a few stray wasps that hadn't entirely disappeared yet.

"Peeta," I cry out now, desperation taking over my entire being. "We have to move." I try to push him to stand, to move forward, but he's shaking his head with a sad, defeated expression.

"Katniss, just run," he orders firmly, his voice surprisingly strong. "Leave me here, I'll be okay."

I give him an incredulous look, so shocked by his statement that I completely ignore the small growing buzz flying closer and closer by the second. "Peeta, I'm not leaving you!" I exclaim, as if the thought is outright offensive. Because to me, it is. "You can't honestly think I'm going to abandon you-"

"Katniss, please!" He snaps now, his eyes getting desolate. "Please, just go! I'll be home as soon as I can-"

"No! You're coming with me!" I demand furiously. Just as I am preparing to quickly stand and drag him by force out of these woods, his baby blue eyes widen fiercely and he envelopes me into his arms, shoving my body underneath his.

It all happens in a matter of seconds. Peeta holds me down the way he used to hold his opponents down in a wrestling match, paralyzing me into place, and I can't move to escape, to try and run and drag him with me.

I don't understand what he's doing though, what his true intent may be, until I feel through him, through his body that is sheltering mine, the vibrations of the tracker jackers' stingers.

I don't know how many times he gets stung but it's not enough to kill him—especially not him, who has such a high tolerance after the abuse he was subjected to—but enough to hurt him. Enough to have an effect.

Enough that only seconds after the creatures fly away, he flings himself upwards, attempting to get as far away from me as humanly possible. Attempting to put as much distance between us as his distorting mind will allow.

"Peeta!" I cry out again, plainly reaching for him. It doesn't click in my head what could be happening. It doesn't seem even real anymore, after four years home without a single episode, after three years of bliss together, that he could ever again become that dark, twisted shell of a person he was in Thirteen.

"Stay away from me!" He hisses and I recoil instinctively into a tree trunk behind me. His stumbles backward and snaps a branch with his prosthetic leg. The sound is enough to set him off and he practically snarls down towards the ground.

I don't know what he's seeing, what terrifying hallucination is taking over his psyche. I can't even imagine where his mind is right now, but I know that’s horrifying.

"Peeta, it's okay," I try again, but my voice is breaking and I must have started crying at some point and my eyes are wide and displaying just how blatantly unnerved I feel and I know I'm of no comfort right now. Still, I can't stop myself from saying, "it's just a tree branch, Peeta. Nothing is going to hurt you out here, I swear."

"Except you," he states, so blankly, so matter-of-fact, that I visibly flinch as he turns the gaze of his cold, dark eyes on me.

The sweet blue sky that live inside his irises are long gone and in their place is a blackened night and I haven't seen it in so long, I actually forgot what it looked like.

"Peeta," I whisper now, knowing it's fruitless to say anything, to try and get through. But I just can't leave him here, alone, when he's been hurt, when he's still suffering from what Snow did to him to destroy me.

His hands shake and he clutches the roots of the tree beside him to the point of pain. As if the wood can keep him in place. As if the wood can stop him from reacting to the venom like his every impulse is surely screaming to.

"Go away," he spats at me, his teeth clenching together so tight I'm afraid he'll chip them. "Would you just go!"

"No!" I yell stubbornly. My legs suddenly find a way to work and the shock must be wearing off because I find myself manically crawling through the dirt and leaves towards Peeta, where he's practically locked himself against a tree.

"You're a stupid mutt," he snarls as I come closer—closer enough to touch. "A mutt created by the Capitol to trick me. Don't touch me!"

I ignore his words and lay my hand on his forearm. "Peeta, please-stop!" I order desperately as he swings his arm in my direction. "Listen to me, please! This isn't real! I swear, this is just a bunch of lies the Capitol told you!"

"The only lies that I've been told were from you, sweetheart," he practically spits at me. "And I'm tired of your lies. In fact, I think I'm tired of you altogether-" He cuts himself off, one of his hands flying up from the branch and smacking him in the face. "Run!" He abruptly exclaims in a different voice. A voice that gives me hope. Hope that he can mentally fight this off. "Katniss, go!"

"No!" I refuse still, my jaw clenching and my eyes locking in on his furiously. "I won't leave you here!"

He squeezes his eyes shut at my words, and when he reopens them, my every hope he would be able to pull himself out of this evaporates. "I hate you! I absolutely hate you! Why won't you ever leave?"

"Because I love you," I hoarsely shout, not caring that he's in no position to listen to me. "I love you, Peeta. I love you and I'm not going to leave you."

I never say these things, even now. Even after the years since the war, I rarely offer sentiments. In words at least. Peeta knows I love him. I know I love him. But there's little need for me to proclaim it every single day and night.

Until now, until right now in these woods, with Peeta and all that he is nearly evaporated, do I wish I had showered him in verbal sentiments over and over again. No matter how unnatural words as opposed to actions are to me, I should have forced myself to speak up more, to say how I feel, to overdose him in it until he's tired of hearing my voice.

Maybe if I had been more vocal, he wouldn't still be so fast to believe the worst. Maybe then he wouldn’t be susceptible to these dark thoughts when the venom enters his system.

I shake that idea off as soon as it comes. This isn't my fault and it definitely isn't his. The tracker jacker venom isn't something we could have seen coming and it isn't permanent, I force myself to remember. This will wear off.

I just have to make sure Peeta doesn't hurt himself before that happens.

"Peeta," I whisper now, seeing his eyes squeezing shut again. I don't dare to let myself hope again he's fighting the hallucinations off. Cautiously, like I'm about to pet a tiger, I lean my hand in to touch his cheek.

He doesn't relax into it but he doesn't snap at me either and I take it as progress.

At least, I do until he opens his eyes.

They're still black as coal and my heart sinks at the realization. But before I can think to do anything else, his mouth opens again, his voice now slow and quiet and pleading. "You're the worst thing that ever happened to me. I loved you so much and you cost me everything."

I feel myself let out an involuntary sob at that, my chest heaving before I can swallow it down. Because it's true. If it weren't for me, if I'd just eaten those stupid berries myself, he wouldn't have been tortured and hijacked. Millions of people wouldn't be dead from the war. Finnick would be playing with his son right now, probably teaching him to swim or fish or tie a knot.

Prim would still be alive.

As if reading my mind, his next sentiment matches my line of thinking. "You destroyed me, just like you destroy everyone. My family is dead because of you. You killed them. You killed millions of people and laughed about it. You even killed your little sister."

And I know he's not in his right mind, but his words still ring true to me and all I can say, while trying to suppress the overflow of tears gathering behind my lids is, "I know."

"But it never meant anything to you, did it? No matter who you hurt or how much pain you inflicted, it never mattered to you."

I shake my head automatically, not even registering that I'm about as good as arguing with a wall here. "That's not true. I do care. I've always cared."

"Liar," he hisses again but it's under his breath, through clenched teeth and I can't respond to it. "You never cared about anyone besides yourself."

"Not real, Peeta!" I frantically try to get through to him. "Not real, not real, not real!"

He acts as if I hadn't spoken. "I always, always loved you. So much." He says it, not as a compliment or endearment, but as a dark fact, as a burden to bear. As if it were a heavy load he was forced to carry. "Did that mean anything you? Did I mean anything to you? Or was I just second best to him?"

"Peeta," I whimper out desperately, wiping my eyes with one hand and reaching out to grip his palm with my other. "You mean everything to me. You're my whole world."

Something flickers in his eyes and he snaps like the branches beneath our feet. "Liar!" He screams again, and shoves my hand off his. "You're a mutt! You're a liar! You’re not going to kill me like you did everyone else!"

"Not real!" I scream on the top of my lungs, giving up every other defense I have, just for the insane hope of getting through to him.

I remember how I got him to cooperate, to see reason, to fight, in the middle of the war. How I kissed him desperately, knowing I rationally should kill him, knowing there was a likely chance he'd kill me for even trying to save him, but how I did it anyway, in the face of all that.

It was different then. He wasn't freshly full of venom. He was already beginning to overcome his hijacking on his own. He was already starting to fight his way back to me.

But that doesn't mean the same methods couldn't be repurposed here. That doesn't mean they wouldn't work again, under different circumstances.

Somehow, in the seconds I considered this method, my eyes had traveled to his lips and my plan was foiled before it could be put into action.

"Don't you dare," he threatens, his voice dripping with fury. Even more deadly than I heard only a moment ago. "You're not going manipulate me like you always do, mutt."

Before I can gather my bearings or even process what he's implying, he forces both his hands to let go of the roots he's managed to maintain an iron tight grip on. His hands come flying at me, knocking me back against the forest floor, knocking the wind out of me painfully.

I feel my shoulder blade take the impact and fight back a wince, just as two large hands wrap themselves around my throat.

They squeeze tight, effectively cutting off my air supply, giving me the same horrible sensation I still remember from his rescue. The horrible day I still sometimes have nightmares about.

This whole entire thing is a nightmare come to life. Just as much as it was back in Thirteen four years ago.

I stare up at him, my vision swirling, my eyes stuck on his. And, in spite of how angry I should be—at Snow or Coin or the Capitol or just life in general—I find myself uncharacteristically hoping. Not hoping that he won't kill me. But rather hoping that when he comes back to his senses, he is able to forgive himself for this. That he is able to forgive himself for all of it.

I stare into his eyes, because if this is my end, I want the last thing I see to be the person I love, even if he isn't himself. I want him to somehow retain the memory of me right now, at this moment. So he can know that I'm not angry with him, that I don't hate him. That I love him. In spite of every reason anyone has tried to create for me not to.

I'm so focused on his eyes that I don't even notice that his grip is weakening. I don't even register his stance changing. All I see, all I register, is his eyes suddenly changing from black to blue and then black again. It's haunting to see up close, like a demon is stuck inside of him and he's having to fight it off from the inside out.

"Peeta," I whisper hoarsely, reaching my hand up to cup his cheek as his irises become a blue ocean again.

But his body language remains stiff, even as he clumsily pulls himself upwards and off of me. He trips backwards once again, and I watch in a frozen stupor as his eyes change once more to ebony.

"Go!" He shouts abruptly, his features wild and downcast and tormented. "Katniss, go!"

And I don't know if it's the fact that he's seemingly fighting off the darkness now or if the tracker jacker venom may be growing weaker inside him or if it's just the plain fact that he sounds like my Peeta again, but I listen this time. I roll over gracelessly and cough and sputter and grapple for a breath before finding my footing and blindly racing out of the trees. Blindly leaving Peeta behind, hoping he'll be able to find his way back to me.

Hoping that he'll come back to me at all.

I crash onto the couch as soon as I step foot into the living room, lying down on my stomach, burrowing my face into the cushions beneath me.

I mindlessly ran from the woods, tripping and falling and unable to catch my breath, my heart racing a thousand beats per second. I didn't stop when Thom waved at me or when Haymitch barked to ask what I was up to now. I didn't even stop to lock the front door.

I wasn't worried about Peeta coming home to harm me. He was in enough control in the woods to hold himself against the tree, to stop himself from strangling me, to yell at me to run. If he was going to chase me down and hurt me, he would have done so in the woods when I refused to leave.

No, I wasn't worried about Peeta coming home to harm me. I was worried he wouldn't come home at all. I was worried that this is going to push him to the edge, that he won't trust himself, that he will insist he has to go back to the Capitol for hospitalization. I was worried that this will cost me him and our life together and everything we've worked so hard to build.

I squeeze my eyes shut to hold in my tears, terrified that the tracker jackers are going to cost me him, even after all this time. That what Snow did to take Peeta from me will finally succeed, even after his death.

Me and Peeta don't see eye to eye on this topic. This topic is one of the few things we can't agree on.

Peeta still gets flashback, on a fairly regular basis. He still grips the back of a chair or clutches a wall, hides in the back of the bakery when a customer triggers some atrocious memory by mistake. He still has insomnia some nights and still paints his nightmares.

Some of those paintings consist of things I never could stand to know. Some of his paintings, so haunting and gut-wrenching, display things that have brought me to tears more than once.

I was looking at them one morning over a year ago when I blurted out the worst possible thing I could have.

"What would happen if you ever were hijacked again? If you ever became the way you were in Thirteen again?"

I honestly expected him to say that Dr. Aurelius has warned him that there is a possibility of that happening and that he has a plan in place and he would have to go to the Capitol again and just about a million things I don't want to hear but I as much as expected.

But instead he caught me entirely off-guard and simply said, "I'd leave. Go out to the woods and probably never come back."

It's only now that I realize his wording, that I realize I left him out in the exact place he specified disappearing and I feel my blood run cold as I process this.

I don't know what I intend to do, as I stand up off the couch. I don’t know if I intend to go to Haymitch and see if he's too drunk to be of any help, to go maybe to Delly or Thom or anyone in the district who cares for Peeta, or if I even intended to just go searching for him myself in the woods, but in the end it all becomes irrelevant.

Because as soon as I stand, frantically trying to stop my shaking and figure out how I planned to find him, Peeta walks in through the front door.

His eyes are blue again and they've lost the cloudy look that have always appeared in his episodes. I don't know why I forgot that until now.

Probably because I black out the things that really hurt me. The things that hurt my heart too much to fully process.

Peeta, the sweetest boy I've ever known, being tortured and destroyed to pay for my acts of rebellion is at the top of that list.

I just stare at him, taking him in now, here, alive, relatively unharmed aside from some scratches. His eyes are clear but they're so sad and so desolate and I open my mouth to speak. To say just about anything that'll convey to him that I'm not angry with him, not in the least. That I just don't want him to leave, that I can't take losing him again.

But all that comes out are choking noises and I don't know if it's the cries I fought off or if it's because his hands were wrapped around my throat not long ago, or if it's just plainly that I don't put my feelings into words well. By any stretch of the imagination.

Either way, it doesn't seem to matter. Peeta just shakes his head slowly, the skin around his eyes already wet and swollen and pink and before I can utter another sound, he's walking forward towards me and falling down onto his knees, wrapping his arms around my waist. His face buries itself into my stomach and suddenly, the most painful, the most wretched sobs fill the room and if I wasn't right here with him, if I couldn't physically see Peeta, the cries would almost be unrecognizable as him.

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

I try to resist it, I try to hold it back, I do everything I can to fight it, knowing it'll only make him feel that much worse, but in the end it's a lost effort and it's all I can do to raise my head up to the ceiling just as the tears come pouring from my own eyes. If they're out of shock or fear or pain--or a combination of all three--I don't know, but I do everything I can to hide them from Peeta.

It becomes just one more thing I fail at, as he somehow instinctively notices and squeezes me tighter to him, clutches me like Prim used to clutch her baby blanket.

"Please forgive me, Katniss. Please, please, please forgive me."

I open my mouth to say there's nothing to forgive but once again, the words won't form. All that comes out is a simple sob, quiet but strong, and I feel Peeta squeeze me again.

"I'm so sorry. I'm so, so sorry."

"Roll over for me," Peeta whispers softly, his hand as tender as his voice, stroking my hair back attentively.

I do what he asks, rolling onto my stomach, but still manage to say, "this isn't necessary."

He ignores me, his eyes no longer wet but still swollen and bloodshot from the hours he cried. Lifting up my shirt—technically his shirt originally, but we repurposed it as my sleep attire months ago—he slides a cold cloth onto my back, holding it in place for a long moment of time.

There's now a particularly large bruise already forming on my back from where he knocked me to the forest floor. I couldn't care less. I got worse bruises than that from hunting on a regular basis.

But the look in Peeta's eyes when he saw the mark, almost--but not quite--rivaled the look in his eyes when he stood upright and saw my neck. I hadn't even seen at it yet, I hadn't even given any thought to checking for red handprints, but when Peeta stood upwards, when he'd calmed down enough to look me in the eye, his gaze flew there instantly and words can't convey how awful he must have felt.

If there were a way to verbally say how wretched and sick he felt inside, Peeta would be the first one to do it.

Telling him it wasn't his fault didn’t work. Telling him he couldn't have known about the tracker jackers nearby, he couldn't have known what would happen, did absolutely nothing to convince him that he shouldn't feel responsible. Especially not when I'm speaking in a hoarse tone of voice.

Of course, I knew he'd feel this way. I would feel this way. But somehow I just can't stop trying to alleviate his remorse, no matter how useless it may be to attempt. Somehow I just can't stop trying to remove that tragically sad look from his eyes.

As soon as he lets go of the cold cloth, I spin around in the bed and snuggle myself tight into him.

He takes me into his arms willing, wrapping his every limb around mine, burying his face in my hair. His lips press repeated kisses to my forehead, his hands rubbing up and down my spine, massaging my back.

"I'm so sorry," he whispers, probably for the twentieth time.

"Peeta," I all but groan, leaning my head back slightly to peer up into his heartbroken eyes. "Stop. There's nothing you could have done."

He looks like he wishes to argue but nothing comes out of his mouth. Instead he rubs my back again and squeezes me tighter. I shut my eyes against him, breathing him in, a part of me finally relaxing for the first time in hours.

Even after he returned home, even after his breakdown, I remained cautious at first. The last thing I wanted was to let my guard down too soon and have the venom—that is surely still working it's way out of his bloodstream—cause him to snap again, to lash out at me or attack.

Just like the last thing I wanted was to make him feel worse, make him feel remorse for something that was done to him, something he didn't ask for and he'd worked so hard and made so much progress in controlling.

But when he'd noticed the tears I’d tried to hold in, down in the living room, the remorse was inevitable.

"Are you sure you're okay?" He whispers now, moving my hair aside carefully, pressing his lips gently to the red marks where his hands had left their imprint.

This isn't the first time he's asked though and despite the fact that I rather enjoy his lips on my neck typically, I can't help but respond with ire. "Peeta, I already told you my neck and back are just fine. Please stop worrying," I say tensely, my voice tired and worn thin.

He says nothing in response, instead placing more kisses against my throat and collarbone. I let out a sigh I didn't even know I was holding in and reach out to stroke the back of his head, massaging where his skull and neck met, where his blonde curls touch his skin.

"You scared me," I whisper finally, the words easier now that I can't see his eyes and he can't see mine.

"I know," is all he can say.

"Not physically," I immediately correct before he can take that and internalize it. "I don’t mean you scared me physically. You... you..." Speaking becomes a challenge all over again, the syllables not wanting to form intelligibly on my lips. But when he pulls back and looks me deep in the eye, his gaze full of love and sorrow, I force myself to just say how I feel. "I was scared I was going to lose you," I whisper, leaving whether I meant lose him physically or mentally up in the air.

Still, he doesn't seem surprised by the confession, whatever way he took it. "I know."

I have to bite my lip to keep an awful choking sob inside, as one is doing it's best to escape from the back of my throat. Almost as a distraction I bury my face into his chest again, shutting my eyes, and I allow myself to be thankful that Peeta's still here and he's my Peeta again.

When he doesn't fill the silence though, I realize I have to or else the tension in the room will continue to linger. "I was so scared," I admit, so quietly it's almost inaudible.

"I know, baby."

I scrub my face against his cotton-made shirt before rubbing my nose with the neckline of my own sleepwear, just as something hits to me. Peeta's words in the woods, even while hijacked, still sting inside my head. Not the cruel things he said, because even though I know they're true, I also know he doesn't truly believe any of them himself. He doesn't think I murdered his family or am an evil person who laughs at the misery of others, and I know beyond a shadow of a doubt, he doesn't think I'm in any way responsible for Prim's death.

But originally, his hijacking was predicated upon his insecurity and uncertainty in our relationship and in my feelings for him. In the last three years I know I've made my feelings clear. At least, in my mind I have.

But a quietly violent voice whispers, and I ache deep inside as it questions, what if I haven't expressed how I feel enough to him? What if he truly still feels unsure of my love for him?

"Peeta?"

"Yeah?"

"I just... I want you to know-" His finger presses against my lips now and he's shaking his head, his eyes forlorn.

"Katniss, if this is about anything I said, just don't. Okay, I meant none of it. I hate that those words even-"

"Peeta, you mean everything to me," I blurt out then, clumsily cutting him off. "You're the only thing that really matters to me an-and," I stop myself then, having spoken too fast, rushed my words and now am stuttering. There's so many things I want to say, so many things I want him to know. So many they all become jumbled up and confused in my head, and it's all I can do to say the simplest, plainest thing that comes to my mind. No matter how unnatural it feels for me. No matter how painful it is to rip down your walls and to physically have to force away an armor you spent years of your young life building up. It's so hard and so painful and I don't even recognize my own voice when I speak again, when I force myself to spit out how I actually feel. How, until today, I told myself he knew I felt. "I love you so much," I try to say but it comes out choked and raw. "I love you and you were never second best. To anyone. You're everything to me and I don't know-I don't know how to convey this right or say the right thing-"

He cuts me off—finally—then and moves his fingers against my cheek comfortingly. "You've conveyed it perfectly," he promises, his lips moving then to press lightly against mine, in a grateful but simple and sweet gesture. "I know you love me, Katniss," he assures again as he pulls back and breaks our kiss. "I've known it for a long time."

As his finger traces the outline of my mouth, I whisper, almost to myself, "So have I."

He gives me a smile, that is full of guilt and devastation, but still somehow warm and hopeful and kind. "Oh, have you?" I know he's feeling better when he teases me.

But my reply isn't sarcastic or cunning or anything but simple and small. Just like me in general.

"Longer than I could ever admit."

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katatonicimpression · 3 years

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Neurodivergence in Generation X Part 4:

The Twist

Heads up I hate this.

As I said before, the Monet we see across Generation X is actually four different people. There’s the twins (Claudette and Nicole) who control the “Monet” we see up until #31, the real Monet and Penance, the red demon-like creature that Monet is trapped inside. In revealing this twist to the audience, the series makes some weird decisions so I guess I’ll have to talk about it.

This is also where I talk about the more serious ableism in this series. Hopefully it won’t get too heavy.

In a staggeringly unnecessary move, it is revealed that one of the twins, Claudette, is autistic and not Monet - "Monet"’s catatonic spells were apparently a manifestation of Claudette’s autism and had nothing to do with Monet at all. To this day, Monet is assumed to be neurotypical in canon.

So why do they do this? Well, honestly it’s because they think autism is a bad thing. The initial reveal that Monet might have autism is handled like it’s a goddamn horror movie.

We’re supposed to think this is horrifying. And the idea of autism ultimately being a bad thing that can befall a person persists throughout the series.

Now, it might seem obvious why this is ableist but I’m going to spell it out just in case. While ASD is (by most people’s reckoning) a disability, that is not the same as it being a “thing that is wrong with you”. It’s not wrong or right, good or bad, it’s just one of many things that might be true of a person. This attitude - the attitude that autism is some horrible tragedy - has horrific effects in real life. It leads parents to not get their kids tested because they think the label will ruin their lives, thus denying them the support they need. It leads parents to put their children through horrible, even abusive, treatments to “cure” them. It’s the driving force behind the anti-vaxx movement which has cost children their lives. It’s not a new attitude, and Generation X is hardly the most egregious example of it but it is something that should never go unchallenged.

There’s also an unfortunate implication in how this manifests in the story because of the context. Monet is perfect. Her powers are perfect. She’s her dad’s favourite. Her brother envies her for this reason. Whether intentional or not, the implication here is that one of Monet’s “perfections” is that she’s neurotypical - that her sister has some flaw that she lacks. Now, if this story was being told from Claudette’s perspective maybe that’s something that could be interesting to explore, maybe use Claudette and Monet's relationship to challenge the idea that there’s something wrong with her. But that’s not the story they’ve told. They’re not even doing the “Look, Monet’s not perfect, she’s actually autistic.” route (I’m not saying that’s a good idea, but it’s at least an idea).

Instead, what they do is just leave that implication hanging there; That Monet is perfect in part because she’s neurotypical and Claudette is flawed because she’s autistic. Yay.

So I really don’t like this and part of me just doesn’t accept it. I have two reasons why.

1. The twins-controlled version of Monet still had her Personality and Intellect.

When operating “Monet”, the twins tap into her real powers - her strength, flight, telepathy and (crucially) her intellect. They clearly have some access to something that would normally be considered part of Monet's mind.

Most of the time we spend with Monet she doesn’t act like two children, but instead like herself. “Monet” does start acting childish right before her true nature is revealed. Between #25 and #31, “Monet” is immature, overly emotional and kind of dumb in a way that is a massive contrast to how she was before. Now, obviously the writers are spreading seeds of intrigue before the twist with her behaviour in these issues. But the thing that stands out to me is how much it implies that the twins were, at least initially, authentically recreating Monet’s personality.

It is made very clear that "Monet" is definitely more than simply the combination of the twins.

This is subjective (ok all of this has been super subjective) but “Monet” starts to act more like the twins after dealing with Black Tom Cassidy which is, by no coincidence, exactly when Penance starts to come into her own (by just slashing the everloving shit out of that man). By my reading, when Monet starts to emerge within Penance, “Monet” starts to lose her Monet-ness and become more like the twins.

This is also supported by the fact that when we do finally meet Monet as herself, she acts very much like “Monet” did when we first met her.

So - bear with me - if “Monet” is autistic and “Monet” has Monet’s personality and intellect, then why the hell isn’t Monet also autistic? Seriously, why wouldn’t she be? The writers have adopted a “autism is stored in the consciousness” approach and, like, I just don’t think that’s how brains work.

2. Monet still reads as Neurodivergent even if they didn’t intend it.

As I said, Monet’s personality remains pretty consistent once she’s restored to her own body, albeit without the catatonic episodes. So she’s still abrupt, bad at reading a room, self-conscious but somehow not self-aware - all of the things I’ve talked about that made me relate to her and see her as neurodivergent are still there.

Also there’s Penance. Penance represents a lot of things, but the most obvious thing - the thing they keep hitting you over the head with in this series - is that Monet’s experience of being trapped inside the voiceless Penance is a direct parallel to “Monet’s” catatonic state. I don’t think I can express quite how obvious this is when you’re reading this: Penance is an extended metaphor for the way autism can rob you of your ability to communicate and how that leads you to be seen as (and even feel) other, less than normal, inhuman maybe.

This is all deliberate, but the writers (due to the aforementioned ableism - the fact that they see autism as a flaw) don’t follow through with the conclusion the metaphor implies. The most natural reading of Penance is to conclude that Monet is autistic like Claudette.

Conclusion

In a way, if you feel represented by something, then you have been. I see a lot of myself and my own experiences in Monet and that really is enough. She is still subtextually autistic, even if she’s denied the label. From what I've seen, many people in fandom agree with me (tldr: the fan wiki says she's not autistic, tumblr says she is).

However, I do wish they would retcon the “don’t worry she isn’t actually autistic” vibe. Just a little moment in X-corp or something to confirm she is neurodivergent. No need to make a big deal over it - I certainly don’t want another horror-style reveal - but it would be nice to have textual confirmation.

I hope I’ve made it clear why I think Monet is a genuinely interesting example of autistic representation. She contains multitudes (sometimes literally) and goes beyond tired cliches. To see an autistic character like her - a layered and nuanced woman of colour - is really rare.

Generation X is not good at talking about neurodivergence - in fact, it’s often kind of yikes - but I still found it interesting. Hopefully, if you’ve somehow read to the end of this, you did too.

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

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

#x-men #x men #generation x #monet st. croix #monet st croix #Claudette St. Croix #Nicole St. Croix #penance #rants #autistic representation #autism in media

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sanstropfremir · 3 years

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it’s the episode 8 review!!! how many episodes is this show supposed to even be?

the stages from the episode feel like such a grab bag.... i still don’t understand why they didn’t put all the skill stages together, and then did the normal two episodes of the third round. i guess it makes sense that they didn’t want to have six stages in one episode and then three in the other two, but eh.

feeling kinda average on these as a whole, there’s a lot of good elements going on here but probably because of my own preferences (i don’t listen to ballads or blackpink) none of them really hit all the buttons. hopefully this will be a shorter review because i'm only going to do a quick rundown of the vocal stages; i dont really have that much to say about them because they are (intentionally) not very stage picture focused. i'll do the normal stage breakdowns for the other two though, even though i won’t rank them because we still need to see the other four!

vocal stages

sf9 + tbz + ikon

not much to say here other than wow, that’s RED. glad to see some more specific use of spotlighting and i always love when they light things on fire. i do wish they had fill lit with a brighter amber so we could actually get a bit more detail on their faces, especially because there’s six of them. i appreciated the simple blocking and only using one of the ‘stages,’ this stage didn’t need to be anything complicated and it wasn’t. i don’t love spinning camera shots because they make me a bit ill, and i'll forgive the constant cutting because it's a vocal stage and there isn’t any other real movement that we should be paying attention to. not my favourite of the two, i found it visually a bit too repetitive and complex at the same time. always love a crushed velvet suit though, so bonus points for that.

atz + skz + btob

i was braced for the worst and i dont know what kind of miracle happened but it was listenable! like i said, not a ballad fan but i could listen to eunkwang all day. i love a good plinth for a ballad stage, they’re one of my favourite devices in kpop design and i especially love it with a good groundlevel fog. glad they kept it black and white for the first half of the stage, it was in line with the blooming flower projections, and it made a very clear colour arc. they kept the visuals clean and simple with very little blocking at all, a very smart choice for this stage. not sure why they decided it would be the chanel time stage, which i disapprove of because i don’t like chanel, but i do love eunkwang’s shirt with the cameo buttons and the massive turnback cuffs, very 17th and also 19th century. i know they never do it because they dont read on stage normally but yes absolutely more thin chain pendant chokers on men, thank you! i also liked that there was emphasis on a more traditional lighting scheme, there weren't any crazy concert effects, just some good directional beam spotlights and the rear stacks in the climax.

third round stages

ikon

costume

the first look for them is definitely my fabourite of theirs so far. there’s enough variation in the jackets that the base layer of tshirt and jeans don’t look too repetitive. and i do love a good statement jacket. my favourite is probably donghyuk’s because i'm a sucker for fringe always.

i don’t like the backup dancers costumes, but given the way i’ve reacted to every other all black outfit for this entire show i don’t think anyone was surprised about that. these ones particularly irk me because they’re very matte; there's pretty much no texture or pattern differentials to define the shape of the limb, which makes them disappear when theyre all grouped together (mostly on the women). i think they probably were intending to make a statement/emphasis on the hands because of the sleeve cutoff point, but there were so many arm movements that were just totally missed because the costumes were just black voids. most egregious parts are here, with the female dancers up center. i can barely tell what the movements are unless i’m paying specific attention to them because there's so many black shapes. maybe it was the point for it to be an indiscernable writhing mass, but it wasn’t my vibe.

don’t love this styling on lisa. i hate peeptoe shoes in general but peeptoe boots are the worst offenders. they make you look like you have duck feet, no matter who you are. especially with a flat cutout like that. a universally unflattering shoe, and i would know, i worked in a shoe store for two years. this whole look is just pg-13 rihanna cfda awards 2014 and really nobody should try to run up against rihanna.

also i have to mention this because it’s actually really bothering me, but lisa’s backup dancers are serving very allgemeine ss looks and i do not like it. generally when we see ‘military’ uniforms in kpop theyre usually modelled off older styles (pre wwii) of western uniforms that usually aren’t in circulation, and they’re usually non-matching and embellished in ways that are deliberately not military. i know logically that it's a budget constraint+they’re backup dancers+current trend thing but the clean lines with only button detailing and the all black and that specific harness shape? it hit my brain the wrong way. i mean, technically those uniforms are designer because hugo boss did them, but the uh..... girlboss move didn’t land for me.

this is my PERSONAL OPINION please for the love of all that is holy do not come yelling at me about this. it’s all under a cut, you chose to read the post.

set

very glad to see some busy kitschy sets! this is a massive build, since there’s essentially three full sets here: the temple, the jungle, and the first tiny room. and all of them are very heavily decorated.

the starting room is just five walls on casters (wheels), that have been set into place with the cameraman and ikon inside at the start, and then once they exit the walls can be easily struck and rolled off set. simple, smart, and convenient!

i missed it the first couple times around but glitching out the projections in the temple for a split second was a neat little trick.

the silver and polygonal nature of the tiger/panther/cat(?) head is a bit disconnected from the gold and the aesthetic of the rest of the stage for me. the difference between the original room set and the jungle tracks, but the cat head isnt able to make the same leap for me. i'm also not a fan of mixing metals so maybe that’s why.

the tiger/panther/cat(?) head is a fun physical transitional device; i'm a big fan of tunnels and small transitory spaces like that and if they’re well dressed like this one they do so much for establishing place and mood.

i'm very sure i’ve seen this style of polygonal animal head with laser eyes before....i cannot for the life of me remember where or for what. i know wang yibo did a panther stage for sdc3 that had a human formation panther with green laser eyes, i wonder if i'm just crossing wires.

OH nevermind it’s because it looks like the witcher medallion. wires were definitely crossed.

lighting

using purple/teal lighting for the jungle was a smart choice because purple is the direct compliment to the gold and also is much more flattering on humans than green. green is one of the colours that humans can see the most variations in, so when something is green when it's not supposed to be (like human skin), we register that very quickly and associate it with unease and sickness. you know how old fluorescent lights have that greenish tinge that kinda makes you feel ill? it's your cone cells and your brain recognizing that you’re looking at things that are not supposed to be green.

very clean colour arc, i love to see it.

sound

it’s.....fine? i don’t listen to blackpink and have no opinions on their music other than it's not my type. i dont really know what the thematic connection to the visuals is, which is not strictly necessary in a lot of cases, but i don’t particularly care for the conflation of ‘savage’ and a (presumably) precolonial religion that’s assembled from stereotypes of real colonized cultures. you can come at me about how ‘it's not that deep’ all you want but i am here specifically doing an in depth analysis, and i gotta point it out. i'm not here to pass judgement on you if you didn’t realize or don’t care or whatever, i'm just saying that it's important to consume content with a critical eye. what you do with that information is your own personal choice, but you should be aware of it at least.

staging

they took a big risk eating popcorn right before singing, and we definitely got some residual mouth noises of them trying to clean out their teeth. eating on stage is difficult in general because you have to make sure it's not going to dry out the performers mouths, because they dont have access to water and it takes WAY longer to chew and swallow something than you would expect. there’s a LOT of testing that goes into making stage food and guaranteed it’s not made out of what it looks like or what its supposed to be; i worked on a production of amadeus were we did literal weeks of testing amalgams of different desserts to make sure that salieri could actually eat the ones onstage without totally drying him out, because fun fact about that show, salieri doesnt leave stage like, at all, so there was no way to get him water. poor bloke.

i thought the blocking of this was really smart. the long take from the ‘normal’ room and transition into the jungle was super slick, even if that weird circle the camera did while pointed up at the ceiling was unnecessary and pointless.

bobby’s ‘acting’ was extremely funny and that’s the only way people are allowed to act surprised now. edvard munsch scream style only.

the pacing is a bit off and this time it wasn’t mnet’s editing that fucked it up. as fun as it is to have a feature, clearly she wasn’t allowed within proximity of the rest of them for covid or other yg related reasons, but it made for some extremely long transitions, especially the one out of her verse. it kills the momentum of the stage in that beat, even though they manage to pick it up after.

this is a very simple little narrative arc that’s easy to follow and doesn’t require any extra explaining. which is exactly the kind of arc that groups should be doing at this stage in the game. this is a good formic step up for ikon!

i thought the turning off of the monitor at the end was fun and a good callback to them watching the videos at the beginning of the stage. a nice clean way to make it circular.

skz

costume

FINALLY something different on the skz boys! these were mostly fun eboy looks for them, and i like it on the basis that it's not the same as the last set of costumes.

bang chan out there with his thigh OUT and a (fake) bridge piercing? LOVE to see it. great work.

(copy-paste every thing i’ve said about backup dancers wearing all black)

the backup dancers that were dressed as bystanders/extras were great! they should have kept that with all of them because it would have given a little more shape to the choreography and establishing what function the backup dancers were supposed to have.

set

that is meant to be a giant rice cooker on stage, right? i think so because it's a god’s menu mashup? if that's not a rice cooker i have NO idea what its supposed to be

there’s only two large setpieces here, which was a smart way to go. i LOVE the subway car doubling as the truck, even if the truck itself makes no narrative sense. what a fun way to double the use of a single big piece. you’ll be able to see the way it moves in the full cam but it splits down the centre and there entrance doors at the back with attached stairs that bang chan and the dancers use to climb up.

lighting

not a whole lot happening here. i like the cool white leds in the subway car and the contrast with the more warm tones of the outside, which is good atmospheric establishment, but i can't discern a visible arc.

not a fan of these projections; they’re in line with what we’ve seen from skz so far, which is: extremely literal. i dont think they’re that distracting, but they’re not to my personal taste. they really should have kept the comic panel theme that they did for changbin’s first verse, because that was inventive and fun to watch! and a great atmospheric indicator! i would love to see a bit more experimental projection use but it's hard when they don’t have a lot of time to build these stages and the lighting team is definitely working remotely.

sound

i love that they made the choice to do some actual talking, it’s a good gimmick and it works for the deadpool/comic book/fourth wall break theme, but australian accents take me the fuck out i am so sorry i cannot listen to either felix or bang chan speak english without laughing uncontrollably.

i don’t like this arrangement but i'm not surprised about that, given my predilections. i'm also tired of skz shouting STRAY KIDS in every performance they do. i know on music shows it's probably more relevant and yea producers tags are a thing but we’ve been watching this show for nearly two months at this point. we know who you are, you can stop yelling. be more creative with it!

staging

my biggest issue with this stage is that it doesn’t have a payoff. there is an arc here: they’re stealing the truck, but why are they stealing the truck? who are they stealing it from? who are they fighting against? it's kind of important in a stage where the theme is stealing and fighting someone that you tell us who that is. in both of ateez’s previous stages were they were both stealing (rhythm ta) and fighting (wonderland), they made sure to show us who the villain was. there needs to be tension for a big blowup climax to actually pay off. whether it be against a a balloon arm kraken or a fascist government. this stage could have reached that next step if they’d just done a little bit more exposition.

there were a lot of fun choreo moments here, and this is probably my favourite choreo of theirs so far. i thought the whole first bit in the subway car was excellent and a very fun play on those viral videos that we used to see roll around every so often of dancers doing routines in subway cars.

did it need the guns? not in the slightest. more on this point later. i could talk more about weapons and weight here, but i’ve done that several times already.

like with the tbz game of thrones stages, theyre relying a little too much on the audience's preconceptions of the source material in order to carry the theme. the guns are there because deadpool likes guns, but they don’t actually use the guns for anything? the most we get of the stealing segment is felix and the safe, which admittedly is a great bit with him leaping over and under the ‘laser’ lines (theyre likely led strips). because comic books are by nature procedural and deeply tied to narrative, it's unsatisfying when there’s no tension and no payoff.

HOW did we manage to get two stages that are blackpink covers with remote/tv static gimmick and durags? i know the slot machine of kpop tropes is not very big but surely the probability of hitting triple sevens on this one was pretty low. i’m pretty meh on both of these stages overall. skz was unsatisfying but i loved the choreo in the subway bit so that bumped it up a little ahead of ikon’s in my personal preferences, but i'm reserving my actual rankings for next week. assuming we get the other four stages next week and they dont do something stupid and only show two. which they very well might. i’ve stopped trying to understand why mnet does things the way that they do.

as always the ask box is open, drop your comments/questions/personal opinions, i love to hear ‘em! but don’t be rude just because some of this is touchier subject material.

#kingdom #ateez #btob #ikon #sf9 #the boyz #stray kids #military uniforms are a weird one and i always find it a bit....(squiggly face emoji) when they get used in kpop stages #everybody is one of the exceptions because its used as a direct critique #but this is a very personal opinion as someone who has done a lot of historical research on military uniforms in particular #so im hyperaware of that kind of thing #be cool about this one people please and thank you!#im so glad this came in under 3k #kingdom review #kpop analysis #text #ive had to write a lot of deeply critical art practice analysis in the last week and i would like to sleep

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ninjastormhawkkat · 3 years

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Wordgirl Au: Alliance Swap Au

Note: This au is a combination of Becky Boxleitner au and my half human/half alien Becky au. Another thing if anyone out there is a fan of the characters: Scoops, Violet Heaslip, Professor Robert Tubing, Captain Huggy Face/Bob, and Kid Math; then I am sorry. You will DEFINITELY not like this au. I am not kind to these characters in this au for a reason.

In this au, Wordgirl is still the same hero we all know, but her allies are swapped.

Becky Hope Boxleitner: In this au, Becky is a hybrid alien. She is half Inventeran and half Lexiconian. She was born on the planet Inventra which was a planet that neighbored Lexicon. In this au, Becky’s mother is Amirana Trese, a Lexiconian, and her father is Stevnen (pronounced: Stev-nen) Bauxlite (pronounced: Bow-cks-light). (Yep. I made Steven Boxleitner an alien in this au.) Inventerans are were-animal hybrids. In their were-animal form, they have a mix of human and animal features with a little more animalistic characters. They are also able to shift to a human appearance. Becky has the same abilities as her dad along with her Lexiconian powers.

Background: This Alliance Swap Au is also an au of my half human/half alien Becky au with a twist. If any of you read my bio outline of Becky’s biological mother and my headcanon, it is basically the same in this au with a few twists.

1. Amirana Trese came to Invetra on a diplomatic mission to help the Aviary Inventra scientists. Everyone on Inventra is a pursuer of knowledge. They have no military, just high defense systems. They relied on Lexicon for combat and war protection. (This ends up being their downfall.)

2. Amirana is still engaged to her awful fiancee. On this mission, she encounters Stevnen and it was true love.

3. In this au, Amirana is able to stay longer based on her diplomatic mission. (The Aviary Inventra scientists are designing and building crafts for long distance travel. Amirana is helping to test each one and offer advisory input.) She stays with Stevnen for two years, get secretly married, and have Hope (Becky).

4. The awful fiancee somehow finds out and goes into an apocalyptic rage. He convinces the other Lexicons that the Inventerans have committed a grievous mistake for getting one of their high, noble, Lexiconians impregnated by an inferior (physically inferior) Inventerans. The fiancee argues that to make up for this error, Amirana should be sent home and Stevnen should be sent to Lexicon to be punished (by death according to the fiancee.) The people and government of Inventra are more than aware, and are not blinded, to the fiancee’s corrupt nature so they refuse. They also try to get other Lexiconians to recognize that the corrupt fiancee needs to be stopped. They unfortunately fail and this causes a massive war between the two planets. The people of Inventra are quickly defeated and the corrupt fiancee leader orders that all Inventerans are to be taken from their home planet and either be killed, kept as prisoners, or low workforce.

5. Amirana’s good friend (from Amirana’s bio outline) warns her and Stevnen that the friend’s evil brother is coming to Inventra to personally punish the family. Stevnen and Amirana attempt to escape with hope to a ship. Amirana is unfortunately shot and greatly wounded by her fiancee. She urges Stevnen to still escape with their child, and with a heavy and painful heart he does. (Stevnen knows how to fly a ship from reading and from Amirana.) It is a painful, tearful departure between the lovers. Stevnen is able to escape the planet before Amirana’s fiancee and his armada catches him. Amirana is unfortunately killed and her fiancee makes her death justifiable in the eyes of Lexicon. Another note about Inventerans is that they develop a empathetic link with their mates, no matter if they are the same species. So Stevnen definitely feels Amirana’s death. Hope is only 1 1/2 years old when this happens.

6. Stevnen crashes on Earth. (He is a good pilot, not the best.) He gets out of the ship with his daughter tucked close to him. He soon spots the Botsfords on a picnic in a woods. Hungry and desperate, Stevnen shifts to his human form and meets them face to face. The Botsfords take pity on this single father and let them stay at their house for a while until Stevnen gets a job as a scientist.

Character Outlines:

Stevnen Bauxlite (Steven Boxleitner) - Steven changed his daughter’s name to Becky Hope Boxleitner as a part of his plan to erase any traces of themselves to make sure no one from Lexicon can find them. Steven is a bit more serious than his human canon character (This guy suffered a lot of tragedy and is a single father now!) His human form is looks exactly like canon Steven. His Inventeran form is Dr. Two Brains, but without the mouse brain and more mouse features such as a tail and mouse ears. Steven can’t speak the human language (he can understand). He uses sign language or writing words to communicate. When Steven slips to his native tongue, he tells everyone he has a speech problem. Becky and Amirana can understand him because I have this theory that Lexiconians have a great vocabulary as a superpower because this ability allows them to understand any language of a dominant species (not subspecies like animals unless they are from Lexicon, like Bob. Becky is able to understand General Smoochington because of Bob). (I think this is some type of mental, telepathic power, which is why Becky has a great memory.) Steven’s native language sounds like mouse squeaks. (Other Inventerans sound like their were-animal forms but with a mix of other languages that counts as communication on Inventra. Steven does not have the ability that Becky and Amirana have with words. He is knowledgeable, not very bilingual.) Steven still loves Becky and supports her. He is worried about her heroic works so, in his were-form, he joins her heroic escapades as her partner. (A gag throughout this au is that everyone assumes he is her sidekick. Becky has repeatedly pointed out that her dad is her partner. Becky as Wordgirl does not call Steven her dad in public to protect their secret identities. Steven’s hero form is Mouse Ace (I may change the name later, that’s the best I got for now). (Steven was just a scientist with no military rank. I chose this name because he is a good pilot, just not as good as Amirana or Huggy). Steven uses his were-mouse abilities for battle, but mostly relies on self-made gadgets. He acts like a mentor to Wordgirl for her battles, but still behaves as her father (just not openly.) Steven’s Two Brains appearance can look similar to canon or he chooses to wear a ponytail. Steven’s outfit is a black jumpsuit with an orange belt that holds the gadgets. His jumpsuit has orange line accents. Steven has an Inventeran logo on the front of his jumpsuit (it is shiny silver in color and looks like shooting star.) He still has his canon goggles and silver armbands that act as shields for defense. He is afraid of clowns and spiders. He is not afraid of cats. He and Becky just don’t like them. Becky’s Inventeran form is similar to Two Brains but she does not have red/pink eyes and her hair color is the same. (Becky’s eye color is a mix of her mother’s and her dad’s brown in human form. She does have some red flakes in her eye color in her were-animal form.)

Squeaky - On Inventra, there were regular animals that were used by Inventerans as minor assistants and protectors. Squeaky was Stevnen’s Squeaky also escaped to earth with Stevnen and Becky. In this au Squeaky is still a jerk, but tolerable. Has grown a desire to devour earth cheese only. (There was no cheese on Lexicon or Inventra.) He cares for Stevnen and Becky, but its subtle. Stevnen and Becky can understand what Squeaky is saying. (For Stevnen it is because he is part mouse.) They do not like to always understand what Squeaky is saying. (PS. He swears, though not in front of Becky.) Squeaky may accompany them on hero stuff.(He says he is bored, but he does not like being left alone a lot.) Squeaky wears a mask to hid his identity (idk what color, maybe black or silver), but he is often referred to as Nibbles (Squeaky did not want a hero name so what was Becky supposed to say.) Squeaky is called that because he bites, a lot. (Hates the nickname anyway.) Squeaky is vicious, just not sadistic and evil in this au. Is still afraid of cats in this au.

Here is a smaller outline of my ideas for the swap au. Note: this is also a power swap.

Steven Boxleitner - Professor Robert Tubing

Tobey - Scoops

Victoria Best - Violet Heaslip

Eileen - Kid Math (Rex)

Rose Franklin - Katy (She’s from the episode “It’s Your Party and I’ll Cry If I Want To”)

Squeaky - Bob/Captain Huggy Face

I did not intend to make a lot for this first post. I was intending to do all in one. I do the characterizations of others later.

#wordgirl au #alliance swap au #hybrid becky #alien Steven Boxleitner #intense au

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ayankun · 3 years

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WandaVision episode 6

FIRST OFF

Whenever I go back to pause things for clues, and find exactly what I’m looking for, I don’t feel justified, I feel that much more insane:

It’s really hard to make out, but I had an alright look at it on my folks’ QLED, and it’s definitely a flying saucer doing an alien abduction on what looks to be a person inside an old CRT TV (with some kind of robot head/boombox on top???) There are secret aliens in this show, you guys, the facts don’t lie.

HmmmMMMM I wonder if Agnes is as innocent as she looks:

Also, I didn’t see that she was wearing the brooch in this ep, and I was majorly disappointed in that.

Two things here:

No, that’s not a twins joke.

Another Moonmen Confirmed

I know green is his color or whatever, but that hat is literally 10 years ahead of its time

Also, I took the playing-DDR-at-home scenario at face value, and only on the first rewatch did I realize it was a very pointed turn-of-the-century reference. I am an Old.

There’s a good, subtle Rule of Threes in this ep. The Setup:

The Sokovian Halloween flashback works on so many levels. It’s so funny:

The fact that they went trick-or-treating at all

The “speaking Sokovian”

The treat being a fish

They have to share the fish

The concept that this event gave them an infectious disease

“You probably suppressed a lot of the trauma” -- it’s a good sitcom joke but. the trauma is the joke. The joke IS THE TRAUMA!!!

Elizabeth Olson is a dream with all her wonderful faces she has this ep.

Vision’s unsettling passive-aggression-sitcom-cooperation whiplash is WOW, consider me unsettled!!!!!! “Be. Good.” UGH.

(Just noticed one here, but there are a number of continuity errors in this episode, enough to be distracting later on, and is this a deliberate choice? Please let it be deliberate. I didn’t watch a whole lot of Malcolm in the Middle, is it known for its continuity errors?

)

“It’s their first Halloween.” LOLOLOL they are TEN YEARS OLD and this is their FIRST halloween I LOVE IT

DOUBLE RED HERRING CONFIRRRRRRRRMED!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Agent Jimmy Woo accidentally identifying himself as the sassy best friend added 20 years to my life.

Found. FOUND. Not “created,” “manifested,” “willed into being using my insane witch powers.” Third Party Confirmed.

I like that it’s the 90s and we can swear on TV now. “Hell” “kick-ass” “damn it” “fu---dge”

I think the most biting part of Vision finding the whacked out folks is that the soundtrack just kind of ... ignores that anything’s wrong. Yeah, it’s kinda-spooky Halloween music, but it’s still 100% in-world kinda-spooky-sitcom-Halloween-episode music.

OKAY LET’S TALK ABOUT THE AD:

As a 90s child, let me tell you, this is a blisteringly accurate representation of children’s marketing from the period. The shark is wearing sunglasses AND he has a surfboard!!! And he’s selling you yogurt of all things!!!!! This is the supreme distillation of what being a child in the 90s was like.

How disappointed I am that they went with crab instead of lobster.

Heard it through the grapevine that this is a representative of Wanda’s imprisonment on the Raft. That happened in Civil War, right? So the next ad is The Snap? We’re running out of iconic decades, too. so, hold on, new thought.

90s: Civil War

00s: Infinity War

10s?????: Endgame???? or?????????

??: Whatever happened between Endgame and WandaVision, given that the ads are stepping forward through Wanda’s IRL life events!!

I don’t want to know how many episodes are planned/announced, but I don’t know what to expect from the format after they run out of decades from which to draw. Maybe there are only one or possibly two “sitcom” episodes left. Maybe after that it just breaks down and they can pick and choose from the worlds/styles we’ve already established. That’d be p neat. A very unique kind of chaos.

god she’s so cute

Okay, somebody explain to me Pietro. I honestly walked away from last week thinking he was just some townsperson chump, but then I was reminded that this is the Quicksilver actor from all those X-Mans movies I never watched, soooo people are saying Multiverse Confirmed? But, if this is X-Mans’ Pietro, then why did he die the same as MCU Pietro? Or is he literally MCU!Pietro’s corpse, given that he looked all dead same as when she saw Vision’s corpse? If MCU!Pietro, then why different face???

????????????????

Also I found him highly suspicious, what with all the questions he was asking. But the only sort of person who would truly want to know the answers to those questions would be someone who already had them ... so I think he was just asking on behalf of the audience, and the delivery was all wonked out.

Rule of Threes - The Reference:

Ok, real talk, whenever computers/networks/data/encryption/servers/mainframes et al come up in mainstream media, I just look away. I don’t need the kind of psychic damage that comes with such egregious mishandling of the topic.

That being said, does Hayward having eyes through the barrier mean that he could possibly be involved in getting it set up? Because look. If Hayward-after-Hayward’s-Villianous-Ends is one antagonizing force, then is there really room for the Third Party (Confirmed) antagonizing force that’s lurking in the negative space silhouette of the Inciting Incident? With Wanda as the Red Herring antagonizing force, that’s just. There’s just too many villains, alright? We gotta start merging these plotlines.

(then again, when I just said “eyes” I realize probably understanding the true nature of his new secret “CATARACT” project will clear a lot of things up. I’ll wait for enlightenment)

Agnes’ license plate in this episode is 0A1-B2C, which I think is a reference to the way reality is getting pared down to bare bones at the edge of town. Note that this is not the same license plate number as seen last ep.

ALSO, I drove home behind a NJ plate just an hour ago, and was staring at it for a long time, trying to fit it into the puzzle before A) realizing that this was Real Life and not part of the show and B) WTF is a NJ plate doing in front of me in California. In any case, I can confirm that NJ plates do not appear to have this number-letter repeating format.

So let’s talk Agnes.

Demonstrated knowledge of the situation in ways others haven’t (”There’s the star of the show” “kids, you can’t control ‘em”)

Shows up when needed most (explained as being Wanda’s doing, but is it)

When Wanda was having her babies, though, who was trustworthy enough to be summoned? Was it Agnes?

Wanted to babysit REAL BAD

Was in the opening credits framed possessively with the twins

Doesn’t appear to have an IRL identity according to Jimmy’s crime board

Keeps talking about her husband but we’ve never seen him. Highly unlikely that he’s real

Was the one to find Sparky “dead” - internet thinks she was lying to Wanda about how or possibly if he was dead (I’m trying not to read the theories, so idk exactly what the angle is there)

In an episode where everyone is wearing their original comic outfits, Agnes is dressed as (and laughs like!) a witch

She name-drops Wanda as the one controlling everyone; Norm (or the guy playing Norm) only said “she” and “her” -- meaning Agnes?

Naughty

So we’re 99% sure Agnes is Agatha Harkness, right? I never read no comics, so I’m taking the internet’s word for it, but from what I can tell, I think we must be right. If that’s the case, then I’m thinking it’s not impossible for her to be pulling some strings around here (giving Wanda a justification for her “that wasn’t me” doorbell ring, for example, and pulling a double red herring on the fact that she shows up whenever the narrative Wanda her nefarious scheme calls for it).

To devil’s advocate myself, though, we also have Monica’s word that it was Wanda in her mind, lessening the impact of Agnes falsely confirming what Norm only implied. Also she’d have to be acting for Vision’s sake (and ours) and, if so, then what did Vision’s brain-touch really do, and how did she know he’d find her there, and what did she intend as the result of that interaction etc etc.

If Wanda’s (or Wanda + Third Party Confirmed (Agnes??)’s) powers aren’t enough to sustain the simulation of life on the edges of town, how much worse is it going to be now that there is even more area to try to control???

I don’t know if this is strictly an intended read, but the idea of Halloween as a fun, scares-for-entertainment’s sake type holiday, the rounding off the edges of concepts like “skeletons and ghosts are what people are after they die, let’s decorate the town with them and have a good time” kind of is a haunting parallel to the nature of Wanda (et al) covering up the horrible truth of the situation with this happy-go-lucky sitcom glamour.

How much does one hate seeing Vision giving his life for the greater good (the greater good) for the second time? In other news, I think I’m seeing some specifically Mind Stone type energy-colors coming off of him, and very little Wanda type energy-colors. Third Party Confirmed.

Also, I was thinking from last week that perhaps Hayward’s Villainous Ends included capturing the reanimated Vision to be one of those Sentient Weapons his organization is all about, but I Do Not Think his reaction to seeing that sought-after prize disintegrate in front of his eyes really matches up with that theory. Again, will be patiently waiting for Jimmy to check his email to see what CATARACT is all about!

Rule of Threes - The Payoff:

Also, anyone ID the movie playing in the background?

Ok, final thought. I watched this about four times today, and on the big-ass TV at my parents’ house finally paused and got up close to see what that white shape is in the reflection. Thought it might be a skull, but, it’s worse.

These caps do not contain enough data to verify my claim, but I PROMISE YOU it’s a TV

A square old thing with a round screen and antenna on top.

I SWEAR to you, when I looked into the TV, into Wanda’s eyes, only to see the reflection of a TV, of her looking at me looking at her I had a visceral fear reaction. Like. LEGIT nauseous skin crawl.

(All the other episodes have ended with our POV as the fourth wall, from the general (or exact!!!) position their household TV is known to be.)

This is my favorite show Of All Time.

#WandaVision #1x06 #All-New Halloween Spooktacular!

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the-fandom-life-rocks · 3 years

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I paused the new episode about halfway through to take notes as my brain made some points the second fearing spiders being wise was mentioned and then parts of it got semi-confirmed at the end, so here’s the very rough version of those immediate thoughts (sorry if they don’t make sense, I typed them on my phone at midnight and it turned rambly *gets out my red string*):

[[MORE]]

I think, personally, that Jonah was more or less grooming Jon to take over for Elias from the start. I’m gonna base this on mostly two things we learned from Jonah!James this episode, 1. A fear of spiders is a wise fear, 2. No remaining friends/family to question them.

The only real reason we’ve been given for why Jon was chosen over Sasha for the role of head archivist, is that he came pre-marked by the spider. Sasha was, by all other accounts, a better choice for an archivist. Potentially a little too clever for being an Archive, and probably also too clever for being head of the institute, but on paper? — good archivist material.

Now, this is explained in canon as being marked by the web is exceptionally difficult, but I think it might also be a bit of fear that the Mother spins her webs and pulls strings. If she saw fit, there would be no problem for any web avatar to say more to the archivist than Jonah wants, so having them coming pre-marked removes the need to interact with web avatars and lowers that risk.

Jonah knew all along that the rituals wouldn’t succeed, no matter what other people did to interfere or not. Naturally, we’ve been told that Jonah!Elias still sent him to interfere to mark him for the upcoming eye ritual. I think that every time Jon has been marked by an entity, it has also come with the added bonus of losing more of his friends, effectively isolating him.

Sasha was lost to the stranger during Prentiss’ attack after getting very suddenly isolated from Jonah!Elias, whom she’d been following and assumed would help. Her stranger replacement mixed with the timely? Untimely? discovery of Gertrudes body help drive Jon deep into his paranoia in season two, which is a driving factor to everything that happens later.

Tim was killed in his vengeance quest to the stranger during the unknowing, which Jonah!Elias knew wouldn’t actually work and yet was very interested in watching (if not for some excellent distraction work from the rest of the archive crew). Sure, it could just be to make sure Jon is thoroughly marked by both stranger and end, but it was never explicitly stated that that’s what/why he was watching.

Daisy got lost to the buried during the unknowing, and should’ve been lost forever if Jon hadn’t found a way to rescue her, risking everything.

Melanie was well on her way to becoming an avatar of the slaughter, if it hadn’t been for Basira and Jon interfering and then Jon telling her how she could get away from the institute. Either way, she does not consider Jon a friend.

Basira and Jon weren’t really on the best of terms anyway, and probably wouldn’t have been to difficult to keep apart should it be needed.

I think Jonah was certain he had double security for his bet with Peter over Martin, where Martin would definitely go into the lonely and Jon would follow him, giving Jon the final mark needed for the watchers crown, but I think he might’ve also taken the risk of betting on that Martin would be so far into the lonely that he probably wouldn’t follow Jon out, effectively isolating Jon from his last tie (anchor) to humanity and the last thing keeping him from fully embracing his status as the ceaseless watchers little boy the Archivist. If not, then Martin would be so affected by the lonely and probably so deep in the mindset of pushing Jon away that he wouldn’t be a huge risk. (And he would potentially also make an excellent successor to Jon, should it be needed). (I think, personally, that’s a huge miscalculation if so, but mostly because we the audience know that Martin wasn’t as isolated as he was supposed to. He never truly isolated himself, partially because he still supplied the archive with helpful tapes and statements and because he didn’t really believe too much in the cause of his isolation.)

I’m going to assume Sasha had friends and family outside the institute, or at least outside the archives, because I can’t actually remember if it’s come up in canon and I don’t have the energy to check it right now. She at least seemed a lot more - sociable - than Jon, especially early seasons Jon, so I’ll say it’s a fair assumption. Isolating her would be a lot more trouble than it was probably worth, and combined with the fear of her also potentially having been briefed by Gertrude and the need for her to interact with the web, probably not a risk worth taking.

Basically, I just think Jonah might have miscalculated how much Jon cares about his friends and how much they care about him, and while he did succeed in doing the watchers crown, he didn’t really succeed in appointing Jon to be his successor. I don’t think he’s quite managed to make Jon a true avatar in the way we’ve seen other avatars, where they would go to extreme lengths for their patron. I really don’t think the lack of choice, the more or less imprisonment and long term torture and psychological warfare, the manipulation, has worked quite as intended, and Jon has maintained too much of his humanity (or at least too many of his memories and ties to humanity) to ever be able to take over for Jonah!Elias.

Which is a very long way of saying, I really don’t think Jon’s going to take Jonahs place as the pupil of the eye, but i do believe the backup plan in case the watchers crown failed was for Jon to take over for Elias

#head full many thoughts #I’m fairly certain I’ve made some posts about some of these points before that are a lot more eloquent #but I can’t find them #(thanks fully functional tumblr tagging system/s)#so this’ll have to do for now #tho any additions/more eloquent elaborations on this post is very much welcome #tma #tma spoilers #tma theory

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sepublic · 4 years

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I managed to watch Infinity Train Book 2 finale!

I mean, everyone else has already said it, but... goodness what a phenomenal finale. What an amazing season, absolutely superb in EVERY respect! After Book 1 introduced a setting, Book 2 went out of its way to further expand on it! It... it’s like after Book 1, Owen and his team got the hang of what they wanted to do with the show even more and we got Cracked Reflection as a result!

Lake! Lake is free! She can see her reflection now! SHE GETS TO BE WITH JESSE AND EVEN MEETS NATE!!! Her emotional breakdown and anguished declaration of personhood at the end of the Tape Car lowkey gave me chills... That was powerful, watching her just break down in frustration at the pure, inherent unfairness of it all and even destroying robot workers minding their own business in her pain.

Really, that whole sequence in the Tape Car was nightmarish. Its name REALLY doesn’t quite cover what it’s like, and I felt like I was watching the Matrix with that scene of all of the pods lined up on a wall, robot tentacle-arms, people asleep and floating in murky liquid...

Also, that scene felt like all of the passengers were inside an even bigger, larger nervous system of sorts. And with how weirdly-organic it was for such an otherwise mechanical, sterile environment, I half-expected to see some horrific organic thing at the end of all of it, acting as the brain and nervous system for the Tape Car and potentially the entire Infinity Train! Goodness this train is so eldritch.

Seeing more of how the process works was also neat, as well as new robot workers! I kind of already expected the “Didn’t care about Lake and Dracula” bit but it was still neat, and on an unrelated note, we see what the point of the squiggly red-line vocoder is for on the pods; It’s apparently where the audio of One-One’s video comes from!

(Side-note, but that kid being messed up from accidentally killing a pet... That kind of hit close to home and honestly I felt that.)

And seeing the Steward again... FINALLY! Someone else suggested that the Steward is created to defend the Infinity Train’s mechanisms if they’re attacked, and this episode seemingly confirms it; It also makes the Steward’s preprogrammed command for passengers to ‘return to their seat’ also make more sense when you realize that the voiceline is probably meant for situations where passengers are in areas they really shouldn’t be (especially parts of the Infinity Train’s anatomy).

Everyone called it, but we FINALLY get to see One-One inside the Steward, piloting it as intended! And also, I’m glad to see I was correct in One-One now acting as a Lawful Neutral character due to his power and authority putting him at odds with people who are struggling with the Infinity Train’s system. Seeing him again is so weirdly nostalgic, and I love how we get to see the darker side of him as he struggles with what to do with Lake. Him popping out of the Steward to roll around in stress is amazing, too.

I love the idea of the Infinity Train struggling to quantify an ‘issue’ it can’t deal with by producing non-integers (many of which have no actual mathematical meaning, like ;P). It’s interesting that One-One talks about solutions to people’s problems, and how said problems are shown through numbers. And the solution to the problem is zero... It’s all like a complex mathematical pun and it’s incredibly clever. Also, him explaining that the train ‘fixes’ passengers... It makes me wonder if the Infinity Train is meant to be, like. A maintenance robot for humanity as a whole? A powerful machine built to ‘fix’ people’s malfunctions, a very specific kind of malfunction, an emotional one. This perspective and the Infinity Train’s mathematical, computer-like approach to everything (down to Lake fooling it as if by hacking) makes its nature and unknown origin all the more fascinating.

Sieve isn’t happy... Big surprise there, but I didn’t expect him to get through the situation by suggesting a ‘solution’ to One-One’s problem that the latter darkly considers. He was always the more clever of the duo and good at dealing with/convincing people, and it shows. Not gonna lie, seeing him die by getting zapped by Dracula’s lasers and exploding from it in gorey fashion was... I should be more shocked, but after the Wasteland I’m not. God I love this show.

(Also, Sieve should show a little more respect to the Conductor and not PUT HIS FOOT ON HIM- He’s lucky One-One didn’t sic the Steward on him!)

Jesse having a second tape showing his experiences with Lake, all as memories building up to his newest problem, no Lake, was also great and I love how the show elaborates that tapes are specifically imbued with the memories related to and leading up to the issue that causes a passenger to board the train. Also, when he and Nate were talking about freeing Lake, I half-expected that joke theory about Jesse yeeting Nate down the stairs to get in trouble again was, like, going to happen, with Nate even voluntarily helping for it. But luckily the Infinity Train recognizes Jesse’s emotional distress of not having Lake as enough of a problem itself, and Nate doesn’t get any more broken bones.

(And can we appreciate how the FIRST thing Jesse fixates on after waking up is Lake? I LOVE THESE TWO)

I love in particular how Lake figures out how to cheat the system by reflecting Jesse’s number on her... And upon realizing this solution as well, Jesse’s number immediately goes to zero because he realizes it’s practically been solved! This kind of clever thinking and exploitation of the rules of a setting and using it to one’s advantage is one of my FAVORITE things to see in media, ever. It’s way more fun and clever than just a generic ‘Hero gets an emotional power boost’ that most stories have, and it’s part of what makes shows like Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood and Jojo’s Bizarre Adventure so endearing to me! Glad to see Infinity Train joining the list of shows that use galaxy-brain thinking to save the day!

I was really worried for a second that Sieve would stop Lake as she and Jesse escaped, and for a moment they seemed safe... But SOMEHOW he got a hold of Lake’s foot, genuinely surprising me after I sighed in relief when she arrived in the ‘regular’(?) world. At that point I was wondering what Alan Dracula was even doing, when LO AND BEHOLD Lake uses grass to beckon him!

Really, I love how in these last two episodes, Lake has figured out how Dracula operates and has grass and solutions stored accordingly. It just goes to show how well she (they? him? Lots of trans/NB coding with Lake) knows him. Also, I was lowkey anticipating some dramatic reveal about Alan Dracula, what with the foreboding foreshadowing in the minisodes and One-One’s confusion... But no, hilariously, he’s just like that. And that’s amazing, alongside the fact that One-One just treats him as... A particularly unusual creation of his, even by the train’s standards. (I should rewatch Dracula’s minisode cameos under the context of One-One having made him). Also, apparently One-One DOES design train inhabitants? Or is Dracula just the one? How many does he design? All of them? SO MANY QUESTIONS-

Finally, we get our happy ending, and Lake FINALLY gets her true name, which I’ve been looking forward to all season! Wonderful, phenomenal, amazing, brilliant season and amazing ending! Now I already miss Jesse, Lake, and Alan Dracula. I was a bit disappointed we didn’t get to check up on Tulip or Atticus, but perhaps that’s for another season.

This DOES make me wonder what Book 3 could be about, because there’s so much potential! We still have that blue-haired girl that was shown at a panel, whom an animator was excited to show off... Considering her distinctive trait I think she may be the next protagonist. Others have also suggested the old man that Lake scared off, and that’d be neat as well (Why not both? Perhaps we could have two passengers in a season, or one after the other!). There’s also the issue of the Apex, which as I expected, would be brought up in Book 2 to probably be resolved in Book 3. It’s like how Lake and her storyline were introduced in Book 1, and seemingly ended, only to be revealed that Mace and Sieve are still after her, and THAT storyline is truly resolved in Book 2.

I’m just excited, man. Between The Owl House’s premiere and the Book 2 finale, I’m just blown-out and exhausted. It’s been a wonderful train ride and I can’t wait for the next stop!

#infinity train #infinity train spoilers #infinity train book 2 #infinity train season 2 #infinity train crackled reflection #infinity train lake #infinity train jesse #jesse cosay #alan dracula #one-one #steward #infinity train mt #episode review #analysis #speculation

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threewaysdivided · 4 years

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I saw your conversation about Sam Manson. I was talking to Imekitty about this, but I’ve noticed a few things that (sort of) make Sam’s relationship with her parents seem more like teen-drama than actual hardship. If you look closely, she’s got a lot in common with them: outspoken political-activism, possible shared-interest in vintage clothes, and no shame in saying they don’t like certain people. Also, after the Fentons, they were the first to volunteer to use the Ecto-Skeleton, risks and all.

(In reference to this post.)

It’s been a little while since I rewatched DP so I’m not well-placed to do a detail-analysis implication-breakdown right now, but yeah - that fits with the overall impression I remember getting. To me they came across as being sort of old fashioned set-in-their-ways conservative and snooty, and maybe a bit too Pleasantville - but more often in the way of parents who do genuinely want good things for her and to be able to be proud of her despite not really understanding her interests, choices or friends and being very bad at expressing it. Plus she seems to have her grandmother fully in her corner a lot of the time.

I really wish that the writers had committed to one or the other; either making it clear that Sam’s martyr/ persecution complex is mostly just regular self-inflicted teen-drama BS and giving her an arc addressing it, OR fleshing out the idea that she faces a lot of judgement/ pressure/ control/ nonacceptance in her home life and that her negative traits are a bi-product of defensive/ coping mechanisms resulting from that strained dynamic, rather treating things with Roger Rabbit Rules.

(Which isn’t to say that a person can’t have similar interests/ personality traits to, and positive interactions with, their parents while still having a strained, broken or even abusive relationship with them on a deeper level, but the show never really goes hard enough in either direction to make it work.)

As mentioned the last post, this is kind of a consistent pattern across DP - the writers tend go with the low-effort first answer for whatever is Funny or Awesome or Convenient in the moment rather than putting in the work to find a solution that’s consistent with the characterisation, themes and world-lore overall. There’s enough internal contradiction in the show that I don’t think it’s actually possible to take every canon detail as canon without fundamentally breaking things. And in some ways that’s kind of cool; it makes the series more open to interpretation, and trying to distinguish authorial intent from authorial incompetence and come up with theories that account for as many pieces of canon as possible is really satisfying. But, you know, it’s also kind of bad writing in general.

I think the thing that bothers me about Sam’s characterisation in particular is that - where it tends to be more obviously out-of-character when it shows up in other places - there’s a pattern to the inconsistency with how the writers handle Sam:

Throughout the series there’s a double standard in how Sam sees herself/ seems to expects others to act, compared to her own behaviour:

Despite being pro-pacifism she’s okay with smacking Tucker and encouraging Danny to destroy the trucks she doesn’t like

Sam values self-expression and is a feminist, but derides other girls for wanting to express themselves in a conventionally feminine way

Sam doesn’t like being forced to conform to others’ values but is okay with forcing others to conform to hers

Despite being anti-consumerist she shows very little discomfort at, or awareness of, her lavish home life and material belongings

She encourages Danny to take the moral high ground towards his bullies but has no problem antagonising and getting into petty verbal spats with Paulina herself

Sam stalks Danny and his love interest out of jealousy/ protectiveness but threatens to end their friendship when he does the same

In Mystery Meat, when Danny tries to express his discomfort/ anxiety, Sam hijacks the conversation to complain about her own parents instead of listening.

In One of a Kind Sam photographs Danny and Tucker hugging in their sleep, without their knowledge, with the stated intent of putting it in the yearbook, then uses it to blackmail them into silence.

Side note: this joke is also tacky on a meta-level because it boils down to “male intimacy ha ha toxic masculinity no homo amiright?“ Would have been nice if show didn’t use low-key sexist humour as much as it did.

Instead of expressing that she’s hurt by Danny’s “pretty girls” comment in Parental Bonding, Sam retaliates by pushing him to ask Paulina out - a move she knows will most likely result in him getting publicly shut down and humiliated.

Then, after getting the result she wanted, she comes over to gloat and insults Paulina, rather than dropping it now that her point’s been made, which is what ultimately sets off the episode’s subplot.

In Memory Blank Sam permanently physically alters Phantom’s appearance to better suit her tastes while he’s not in a position to understand or give informed consent, then lies when Danny notices and asks about it later.

To be clear this definitely isn’t the be-all-and-end-all of her character and it’s not there 100% of the time - there are plenty of moments when she is loyal and generous and helpful and sincerely kind and where her stubbornness comes in handy. But it’s the aggregate pattern of all these small instances that drives a crack through the foundation of her character integrity; producing this insidious undercurrent alternate-reading of Sam as someone who, at a deep level, just doesn’t respect or recognise that the emotional needs, pains, opinions, autonomy and boundaries of others are as real and valid as her own, and who responds to criticism with passive-aggressive hostility.

Again, I think that’s why people are so quick to point out that line from Phantom Planet, even though we all know the episode was a complete mess. None of the examples above are particularly bad in isolation - you can’t really point at any one of them and say “oh no, bad girl” without sounding like you’re making a mountain out of molehill and irrationally hating on her just to hate on her. It’s an uncomfortable slowburn pattern of subtle micro-transgressions that accumulates across the series - a “you might not notice it but your brain did”. And it makes sense that it would be the worst-written episode that amplifies and brings that regular bad-writing undercurrent close enough to the surface for people to consciously recognise and use it to articulate those frustrations.

To wit: Not because it’s most telling of her character but because it’s most telling of the specific bad writing that regularly hurts her character.

And again, from a storytelling point of view, it’s okay for Sam to have flaws. She’s a teenager! She’s learning. She’s allowed to be egocentric and self-important and do things that aren’t the best at times. It’s okay if these are her character weaknesses and a source of conflict with the rest of the cast. But again, for that to be satisfying something really should have come of it. It would have been nice if the writers were willing to have any self-awareness about these flaws being flaws that a person should recognise and grow past in order to have healthy relationships with others. But they didn’t - because it’s easier to keep her as she is - to the point that they’ll actively bend the narrative to roll back or skip over moments that would have necessitated that growth. So, even though they call attention to her flaws, the writers end up rewarding and enabling them instead of letting her learn.

And again, this isn’t meant to hate on Sam. Hanlon’s Razor in full effect: it’s clearly a result of authorial/editorial incompetence rather than deliberate malice. I know this isn’t the intended interpretation.

My preferred reading of Sam Manson is that she’s a Rosa Hubermann/ Hermione Granger/ YJS1 Artemis Crock-type character. Someone who’s passionate and forceful and maybe a bit abrasive and hard to love at a glance, but whose core nature is compassionate and sincerely kind and loyal-to-the-death for the people they value. I wish I could 100% like her without caveats; to be able to say that even if I don’t agree with her flaws I can at least understand that they’re a valid product of the life she lives, that they make her who she is and that she’s trying her best to be a good person who will get better despite them.

But I can’t because the writers don’t give her that. They’re always prioritising other things over the integrity of her character. They don’t give her background enough time and context to make her negative traits feel resonant with it (because that would take time away from the Wicked Cool Radical Ghost-Fighting Superhero Action™) and the framing and plotting doesn’t give her chances to recognise or grow past them (because that would mean character development and those negative traits are an easy source of cheap conflict). The writers just don’t seem to care all that much about Sam - her actual character, who she is, how she came to be that way, what she wants or how her negative traits would actually play against Danny and the others.

And that sucks. Because she has a lot of potential to be a well-rounded and great character. I’ve seen plenty of fics that seize that potential and roll with those gaps and the result is very good. I wish I could like her canon depiction without feeling like I have to actively ignore a bunch of latent behavioural red flags as the price of entry.

She deserved better.

#Danny Phantom #Sam Manson #Character Writing #Character Analysis #I'm also going to cop to the fact that this part of Sam gets to me personally #because it mimics some of my experiences with emotionally abusive relatives #feeling really uneasy and uncomfortable and upset but not being able to articulate what they're doing that makes you feel that way #and wondering if maybe it's your fault and you're just reading into things too much and you're bad for not defending them #until they do something really egregious and suddenly it's like 'oh' 'OH' 'OH SH*T THAT'S NOT OKAY'#And then you look back and see all the little red flags and from then on you can never un-see them #One of the reasons I only like fanon!AmethystOcean is I can see how badly things are likely to go when Danny's flaws meet these problems #Danny's canon flaws are ones that make him particularly susceptible to emotional abuse #and they accidentally wrote canon!Sam with a lot of latent proto-abusive red flags #they both need character development to work as a couple #but this is Danny Phantom and I guess we're chumps from expecting that #anonymous #3WD answers

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surveys-at-your-service · 4 years

Text

Survey #259

"i went straight to heaven, but i kept on knockin’.”

What's something that makes you feel more creative? Music. What are the last three nail polish colors you wore? Wow, idk the last time I wore nail polish, but probably black or maroon. What's the last thing you binge watched? Avatar: The Last Airbender w/ Sara. Do you watch youtube videos or tv shows more? YouTube is essentially my TV. Quite literally - I don't have a television in my room because I never watch it. What's a DIY project that you don't think actually works? Oh dude, plenty. I have DIY-obsessed friends online as well as a Pinterest, I know this shit, lmao. I can name one though with total certainty because I was with a friend when she tried that disgusting "YOU CAN MAKE cuPCAkES IN A C uP!!!!!" crap. It's the most eggy shit you'll ever try. Do you collect Mason jars to use for crafts? No, but I think those crafts are generally super cute. Have you ever gotten rid of something and then regretted it? If so, what? (or what's one thing?) Oh yeah, one of my biggest being my senior prom pictures, but not for the reason you'd expect (save for two pictures of us that're just REALLY fuckin cute): I want them back because goddamn I was pretty ok and I miss that now that I hate my body every waking moment of every day. :^) What color is the zip-up hoodie you wear the most? Don't have one w/ a zipper, they're ugly. Do you live in an apartment that has inspections? No. Do you hate taking naps during the day? Nooo I love naps and usually take one a day. I tend to feel really tired all over again a few hours or so after I wake up. Who in your immediate family has the best natural hair? MEEEEEEEEEEEE. Would you ever audition for American Idol? Hell no. Do you know anyone who thinks they're more talented than they are? Lol wow, this is mean. I don't think so. Do you buy gum? Rarely, even though I like it. What's your favorite dollar store? I don’t have a favorite, I'd say? But I think we normally go to Dollar General. How many cell phones have you had in your lifetime? Maybe like, six? Have you ever been inside a Victorian mansion? BITCH I WISH!!!!!!!!!!!! I would kill to get married in one, omfGGGGGGGGGGG. What was the most boring field trip you ever want on? I don't remember a bad one. I loved going on field trips. The last time you went, what were your favorite rides at Cedar Point? I’ve never been. Which country would you most like to visit? Eeeeek idk, but probably South Africa. What are your favorite types of videos to watch on YouTube? What I watch on YouTube has become pretty diverse, but I know my favorites are easily Mark's actual big projects w/ egos 'n shit alksjdflk;w gOOD SHIT MY FRIENDS. I still love let's plays, of course! Are you a hoarder? No. Is there a guy (or girl) that you wish things had worked out with? Yes. If you were to start a collection, what would it be? I'd loooove Shadow of the Colossus stuff, particularly the amazing figures they used to have only in Japan. And World of Warcraft stuff; all I have rn is an Illidan poster and a fae dragon plushy hanging from my ceiling that Jason got me. If you were rich, what things would you get done cosmetically? Mother of god, a lot. #1, make me skinny again for the love of fuck. Which would result in loose skin being taken off and probably a breast lift because being overweight ruined my comfort with them laskdjfw. Whiten my teeth and give me laser hair removal surgery on my legs, please. Are your parents too controlling? Not at all. Who is your favorite fictitious redhead? VOL'JIN Blizzard what the FUCK give him BACK What shows have you seen on Broadway? None. Who is the prettiest Asian YouTuber that you can think of? Bitch Mark is Korean and he's gorgeous as fuck goddamn it ain't fair. But this is a weird question. What is the best news you've heard lately? When my mom got a follow-up blood test, things looked good!! She especially needed to level out her sugar, which she did well on. She also didn't lose or gain any weight, so that's wonderful. Have you ever flown first class? Hunny I am v poor. Have you ever had food SO bad in a restaurant that you sent it back? I don't believe so, anyway. Do you talk in your sleep? Very regularly now. Have you ever locked yourself out of your house? OOF, yes. Are you the type of person who can shake insults off easily, or do they tend to stick around in your brain & bother you? They stick with me for a long, long time. At least two I remember from years upon years ago. Who was the last person you cut out of your life intentionally? My old therapist that I trusted and loved when I fucking shouldn't have. Where were you raised? By who? Eastern NC, by my parents. What were your first words? "Dada." What were some of your favorite things when you were young? DINOSAURS, Webkinz, Pokemon, and Spyro, to name a few. What did you grow up listening to? Mostly country and pop music. What games did you play in the past? Spyro was my obsession, and I also loved hunting games (ironic, as irl I would never even consider it???) as well as fishing ones, plus Crash Bandicoot. What was the best birthday party you ever had? I'm not sure. How about the best vacation? I'm unsure; I haven't really been on a lot. Do you have any secrets you never intend to tell? Yup. What memory would you like to disappear from your mind forever? A nightmare I had about my dad. If you were someone else, would you be friends with the person you are now? Yeah. Do you consider yourself a smart person? No. What friend in your life has been the greatest influence to you? I don't know. Where is the scariest place you’ve ever been? What made it so terrifying? I shared a bedroom with an EXTREMELY volatile, violent woman once in the mental hospital. As in she had to go in solitary when she had a violent episode, during which she became very destructive to her surroundings, so as you could guess, I was worried about my own wellbeing. She was eventually moved because I was that uncomfortable. Did you celebrate Easter? Are there any holidays you are more inclined to celebrate than others? If so, which? Well, Easter hasn't come yet, but we'll probably go to my sister's house for the kids. We'll celebrate Christmas and Thanksgiving without fail. We don't pay much attention to others. I'd LOVE to do something for Halloween, we just never have anywhere to go/anything to do. What was the last thing you deleted? Pictures. What colors make up the majority of your wardrobe? Is there any color you like, but don’t wear often? There's black there. Oh, there's s'more black. What's that???? More bLACK????? MAN, I wish I could pull off pink. When was the last time you were in any amount of pain? I had a pretty intense headache yesterday. Who was the last person to hug you? Do you hug this person often? My niece, and yeah, every time I visit. What are you most likely to argue or debate about? The fact I almost never leave my pajamas lmao. What was the last show you watched? Have you seen it before, or is it something you’re watching for the first time? A few days back, I was reeeaaally bored and actually watched TV deliberately, CAN YOU BELIEVE IT?????? It was The Witcher; wasn't bad. I'd be willing to watch more. How would you describe your taste in clothing? What would a dream outfit look like to you? uuuuuggggGHHHHHHHH let me be GOTH. Give me a corsette if they weren't notoriously uncomf with plenty of chains 'n stuff. BIG, SPIKY BOOTS. SKINNY LEATHER PANTS. UUUUGGGGGGGHHHHHH. Have you ever tried snowboarding? No. What’s your favorite planet besides Earth? Saturn is dope. Would you ever be a coach for any sport? Nope. What color of eyes do you have? Blue. Do you like tacos? NOOOOOOOOO. White or red wine? Wine is gross. Do you prefer foxes or wolves? Foxes. What’s the youngest you would consider dating? No younger than 21. Do you think suits are sexy? mmmmmmmmmMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM Did you go to high school with your current best friend? No. What is your boss’ (or school prinicpal’s) name? N/A Were you a fan of Michael Jackson before he died? I was never really a fan. Respected him immensely as a musician, I just didn't care much about his music. Turkey or ham for Thanksgiving? Ham. Turkey is always too dry and stringy. Do you look good in hats? I wouldn't know, I haven't worn one in forever. Never with short hair. Colons or equal signs for your smiley face's eyes? Colons. Do you like architecture? If so, do you have a favourite style or structure that you’d like to make note? Yes, and I should really have an answer for this, as architecture was a big part in Art History... Ummm Etruscan stands out, and of course Roman/Greek (even after the class I don't remember their differences well...). I love Middle Eastern architecture, too. What is one of your favorite words, in any language, and why? I just love the sound of "serendipity," as well as uhhhh "sakura" in Japanese and "kanji" in Chinese. I'm trying to think of a German one, as there certainly are some, but they're evading me right now. Where is the farthest you’ve travelled on foot? JESUS FUCK probably going to get Sara's brother from school, mother of all that is holy. But it might just feel like it because it was during the peak of my muscle atrophy in my legs. Are there any songs that you perhaps like but avoid because it makes you sad when heard? A good number. Do you like the area that you live in? What do you like or dislike about the area? NO. There's not shit to do and it's not aesthetically pleasing at all. Do you have a memory of when you really thought that you have lucked out on something? If so, what was it? Uhhhhh. A handful, I guess? Oh, uh, the suicide attempt to name one and probably the biggest. I took way too many of those pills to experience almost zero symptoms of an overdose; I did look up what "too many" was, because I wanted that. I'd say I was pretty fuckin lucky. If you have apps on your mobile phone, which one do you use the most? Facebook. Which do you like better: fantasy or science fiction novels? Why? FANTASY!!! I think it allows more creativity and possibilities of something magically "making sense" because yeah, it's fantasy. Science fiction has more "realness" to it, more, obviously, scientific elements versus make-believe. Do you like opossums? Do you think it is ethically right for others to keep opossums as pets? OPOSSUMS!!!!!!!!! ARE!!!!!!!!!! FANTASTIC!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! They're my second-favorite animals kdsja;lkdjaw. BUT ANYWAY, no, unless it's for rescue reasons. When was the last time someone asked you a huge favor or advice? Do you get asked often by this person? Oh I have no idea. Probably my mom? And no, definitely not. She hates asking for help. What are your thoughts on nihilism? I definitely get it, but it's not my personal outlook. Do you like the snow? More like love. What are your thoughts and feelings towards work/jobs in general? I don't know? I've never even had a real, steady job, so it's hard to really answer... I've only had bad experiences. It's kinda weird to me how you have to work your ass off (usually) to get a job you enjoy, as well as slave for some stupid green paper until the day you die just to stay alive and healthy. But at the same time, it offers a sense of fulfilment and is as well something productive and beneficial to the masses to do. Civilization would be very, very different and unadvanced if we were without them, so I guess it is a necessary thing. Humans gotta work together to keep where we're at. Do you believe in astrology? I've never actually elaborated why I don't believe in it so there ya go: not in the slightest. All it does is offer extremely broad characteristics that, in some light, almost anyone can relate to so they feel included in something. We naturally want to "belong" within something as social creatures, and astrology is an easy one with it being so vast. It gives equally indirect advice that can be applied to a multitude of situations, so people just mold what they read to fit their world. Don't base your goddamn life choices on the random positioning of shit in space. What is something that you’ve made/created? Do you take pride in your creations? Well, way way way too many OCs that I do indeed love a hell of a lot. If you have a Tumblr account, do you have any followers that you wish would not follow you? Well I'm sure there are bots. What kind of books do you generally enjoy to read? Fantasy stuff, mostly. But I also love novels with deep meaning, particularly about life in general. A good plot is mandatory. Does the quality of a video, on YouTube or a television, matter to you? I mean of course in some situations, like if I'm watching something educational/something to gain visual knowledge from. What is one situation that may cause you to become shy (if there is any)? Don't don't don't don't don't point out that my serious interests/things I massively love are "weird" like it's been years and I can still barely explain why my biggest tattoo is a tribute to some fuckface on the Internet lmao. When one is depressed, what can a friend do about it? Do you find that there is a good method to approach people in helping them combat depression? It is SO important to, first, ask them what they want. Do they want advice, an ear to just listen, just your presence, to be alone? As for combating depression, that greatly depends on the origin (if any) of theirs. There are so many factors in answering this question, but what I mentioned should, imo, always be the start. Do you tend to listen to music that embraces your mood or does music dictate your mood? Is it a little bit of both? Definitely both. When I'm sad though, I'm almost definitely listening to somber music too. Do you find yourself to be generally a forgiving person? I'm too goddamn forgiving. Do you have an embarrassing memory that you now look back at and can laugh? If so and if you’re comfortable, could you share one here? Omg I have a Bible-length collection of those suckers. I'd prefer not to. What is one skill that you have worked hard to develop? Is there still room for improvement on that skill? Damn, anxiety-coping mechanisms and actually trusting them to help me through attacks. I used to be convinced that they were useless because it just wouldn't work and weren't immediately effective, but you've gooooooot to trust the process, friends. What do you consider to be your main passion(s) and how did they come about? Spreading awareness of the seriousness of mental health and the comfort of knowing there's hope. You can never stop pushing. My own experience with mental health struggles is definitely the deeeep roots of that. Who do you think influenced you the most in your life so far? Why? Jason changed my life in many ways. Trauma does that. He taught me a lot about the necessity of having faith in yourself to survive on your own, a shitload about love and how it's not some fairy tale, and that people change, even those you least expect to. What is something that you have overheard people talk about that really bothered you? I could name more than a few things about race stuff, living where I do. What do you normally say or how do you normally act in response to a compliment? I usually do this shy laugh and say "thank you" with too much enthusiasm. How many books do you own? Do you have more physical books than electronic books? I've no clue where a lot of my old ones are. I have no electronic ones; I strongly prefer to read a physical book. What are your thoughts on higher education? Is it really necessary? In your opinion, what changes can be made? Depending on your aspiring career, it can be necessary, but just as easily, it can be unnecessary. I know for a fucking fact it should not be NEARLY as expensive as it is. Maybe even free, but I have no idea what monetary concerns that could cause with whoever runs the place. Have you ever received a heartfelt compliment from a stranger? Probably at some point. How many people would you consider to be extremely close to you? "Extremely"... like three lmao. Maybe one more or so. When was the last time you had to speak to a crowd? How well did that go? When I was taking pictures at a wedding last. It went okay. How would you describe your general outlook towards humanity? We by no means deserve to be the apex predator and Earth would be a shitload better without us. How long do you think you could last without any contact with your significant other, best friend, or a person whom you consider would be the closest to you? I'll use my mom here, in which case idk. I don't particularly want to find out. I talk to her at LEAST by text daily. Every day now that she can't work/is always home with me. Have you ever realised that someone was lying, but it was too late to confront them? Nope. Eventually speaking up is how I lost her, but.

#survey #quiz #questions

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ahyperactivehero · 5 years

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5 or 7 from the newest list? Angst~~~

Ohhh what if I combined them~! I hope you enjoy!!!!

“Wake up! Please wake up.”/ “Don’t you ever do that again!”

Life could be lonely when you were one of the only operatives on Earth. Sure, other angels visited from time to time, primarily Gabriel, to check in and make sure he was still ‘fighting the Good fight’, but they didn’t mean much to Aziraphale. What did it matter if all of Heaven was down on Earth if none of them could understand why he enjoyed food or books or music that didn’t feature in The Sound of Music?

Maybe that’s why he and the demon Crowley had hit it off. The Arrangement, while originally Crowley’s idea, was certainly something that benefited Aziraphale just as much (sometimes even more so) than the demon, and had led to far too many evenings together discussing everything they had experienced on Earth so far.

He’d deny it, but he’d grown rather fond of Crowley, far fonder than he had ever intended to.

Which is why he was…uneasy when Crowley failed to show up at their scheduled meeting place. They’d both had this meeting arranged months ago, Aziraphale was sure of it, and he’d even managed to memorize the list of meeting places well enough to know for sure that he was at the right one.

He checked his pocket watch. It had already been two hours, but what was two hours to immortal beings? Two hours could pass in the blink of an eye, so it was entirely possible that Crowley hadn’t even noticed he was late yet.

Yet standing there, not knowing what had caused the demon’s delay, was enough to send a spark of worry running through him, causing the short amount of time to feel like ages. What if Hell had caught wind of their Arrangement?

He shivered as he thought of what they might do to Crowley. Sure, he was their Golden Boy when he was at the top of his game and taking credit for all of the terrible things humans were doing, but that didn’t mean they would give him any slack if they found out he’d been fraternizing with an angel.

He sighed and checked his watch again, as if that might somehow force Crowley to appear. Still, the bus stop was just as empty as it had been. A few people walked past, but none of them had the familiar red hair or strange strut that Crowley did.

Would it be too strange to go to Crowley’s flat to check on him? He knew it would be odd, but his main concern was overstepping the boundaries they had set in place for themselves. Crowley showing up at his bookshop wasn’t strange, but Aziraphale showing up unannounced at Crowley’s place? Practically unheard of.

He could always use an excuse, he supposed. If Heaven found out, he could always say that he had simply been checking to make sure that the demon wasn’t getting up to any trouble.

And if anyone from Hell was there… well, he’d just have to figure out what to do about that when he got to it.

Sighing, he resigned himself to actually catching the bus he was at the stop for and riding it over to see Crowley. It wouldn’t hurt to just check in, after all.

The door was locked and there didn’t seem to be any sound coming from the otherside.

Part of him wanted to turn around and leave right then and there. It was obvious that Crowley wasn’t home, and even if he was he probably didn’t wish to be disturbed.

‘You know he’s here,’ Aziraphale thought to himself. ‘You saw that damned car of his out front.’

He rolled his eyes at his own thoughts and gave a small sigh. A simple snap later and he was inside the flat.

It was dark inside as it was lit by nothing but TV, but that wasn’t anything new. The few times Aziraphale had been anywhere Crowley lived it was usually dark, the decor usually draining most of the light into it’s black fabrics. There were a few splashes of color here and there with plants and decorations, but Aziraphale barely registered them.

The TV was on but muted, the room seeming to flicker as the scenes changed. Faintly, Aziraphale recognized one of the little old ladies on screen as being from Crowley favorite show, but he couldn’t quite remember the name at the moment.

In fact, most of his brain power was going towards the figure limply laying on the couch.

“Crowley?” he asked. He hesitantly stepped inside the flat and shut the door. His eyes darted around, looking for any signs that anyone else might be there, but he couldn’t sense anyone.

He called out to the demon a bit louder as he approached. “Really, my dear, you must learn to use an alarm or something,” he said, his voice brighter than it had been. Here he’d been thinking that something terrible had happened, and Crowley had simply been having a nap.

Yet Crowley didn’t move. He didn’t even react as Aziraphale got closer, a sure sign that something was more than likely wrong.

“Crowley?” he said. With a snap the lights sprang on, flooding the room with far more light than should have been possible from the few lights in there.

He dropped to his knees next to the demon, his hands hovering over him. He’d seen Crowley sleep for a long time before, but this seemed different. He wasn’t in bed, he wasn’t even in his night clothes for Somebody’s sake. It was as if he had simply passed out watching TV and didn’t wake up for whatever reason.

His hand immediately went to Crowley’s neck, searching for his body’s pulse. It was there, far fainter than Aziraphale had ever felt anyone’s pulse, but at least it was there.

“Wake up, dear,” Aziraphale said, reaching for Crowley’s shoulders. His head hung back, his neck stretching at an almost odd angle as Aziraphale gently shook him. “Crowley! Wake up!”

Still, those large yellow eyes stayed shut. Aziraphale glanced around desperately, wondering if there was anything that might be able to help him, but all he noticed was the shaking plants and the TV continuing to play the next episode.

“Please wake up,” Aziraphale said. He scooted Crowley over until he could sit down and rest his head in his lap. He ran his hands through the bright red hair that was practically plastered to Crowley’s head, and couldn’t help but think about the fit he would have if he knew what his hair looked like at the moment.

With a glance up to Heaven and a quick prayer to Her, he reached out to touch Crowley’s chest and allowed his Angelic nature to search for what might be the issue.

It was harder to find things that were bothering a demon rather than an angel, as Aziraphale hadn’t had much experience in that department, but he could tell that the demon seemed drained. It was like all of his energy was gone, but his body was still here.

“Oh, dear,” Aziraphale said. He closed his eyes as he tried to find out what exactly was ailing the demon, but he didn’t seem to be able to dig much deeper than that.

There was nothing for him to do about the demon’s low energy. There didn’t seem to be anything physically wrong with the demon, so it would simply have to be a waiting game until he woke up.

Thankfully, it didn’t take too long for him to wake up.

“Azzziraphale?” Crowley asked, his voice soft and his words hissing. “What’re you doin’ here?”

Aziraphale startled, his eyes popping open and quickly retracting his hand from Crowley’s hair. “Oh!” he said. “Are you alright?”

Serpent eyes blinked up at Aziraphale in confusion before sliding closed again. “Yeah, I’m fine. What’re you doin’ here?” he asked, a bit more coherent this time.

“Well, when you failed to show up for our meeting I figured I better come and- and make sure you weren’t causing too much trouble.”

Crowley snorted. “Nope, no trouble. Just sleeping.”

Aziraphale resisted the urge to brush his limp hair back out of his face. “I couldn’t wake you up,” he said, his voice filled with concern. “And you’re so low on energy. What happened?”

Crowley waved his hand weakly, almost as if he were trying to just wave the whole incident away. “Sorry, angel. Didn’t realize that was today.” He gave a huge sigh before he tried to sit up. At that moment he seemed to realize where he was laying.

“Oh, sorry,” Aziraphale said as he helped push Crowley into a sitting position. It was just as slanted as his posture always was, but this time there was a sort of tiredness that clung to his entire being that made it obvious that it was something that was needed rather than an artistic choice today.

“You never answered what happened,” Aziraphale said. He held his hand out, like he might touch Crowley, before drawing his hand back. “You were so low on energy that I could barely sense you. I thought- or rather, it seemed like, you might not come back.”

Crowley gave another snort as he dropped his head onto the back of the couch. “Hell got wind of some of the things that I had been working on lately and thought that they weren’t “diabolical” enough,” he said, stretching his legs out. “So I’ve been running around with Hastur lately. Trying to make sure he doesn’t completely ruin my plans or eat too many people, which is basically a full time job on top of my job.” He let out a very unamused laugh. “Beelzebub said that I should consider it a privilege to work alongside the Duke of Hell, that we could really learn a lot from each other.”

Aziraphale knew from past experience that Crowley’s definition of demonic actions and Hell’s definition tended to differ greatly, especially when it came to Duke Hastur’s.

“I guess I just let myself get a little bit more drained that I had really planned to,” Crowley said. He looked down at his hands as if he might be inspecting them for something, but didn’t see it. His eyes started to close again. “I dunno. I’m just exhausted.”

Aziraphale wanted to beg him to stay awake with him, as he knew he’d be reminded of Crowley’s weak and limp form if he were to go to sleep now, but he also didn’t feel like he had any right to ask that from him.

“Is there anything I can do for you? Anything I can get you?” he asked. He felt the need to be helpful to Crowley right now.

Crowley opened one eye but otherwise didn’t move. “Nah, I don’t think there’s really anything for you to do.”

Aziraphale nodded, unsatisfied. Surely there was something he could do…

“I could make tea,” Aziraphale said. He glanced off to the side, where he was pretty sure Crowley’s kitchen was. “We could sit here and watch some more of your Silver Ladies.”

A tired smile came to Crowley’s face. “Golden Girls, angel.”

“Oh yes, right. Well, then, I’ll get started on that tea.”

A few moments later the two of them were settled in on Crowley’s couch, a blanket Aziraphale had miracled covering both of them, and their tea warming their hands. Aziraphale wasn’t sure what Crowley saw in the show exactly, but he did have to admit that it was charming and the fact that Crowley liked it made it even better.

After an episode or two Crowley began to drift off. His head came to rest near Aziraphale’s arm, and he couldn’t help but remember the fear he’d felt earlier at seeing Crowley’s still form.

“Don’t you ever do that to me again,” Aziraphale said, hoping that his voice sounded half as strong as he wanted it to.

Crowley said nothing. Instead, he snuggled down closer to Aziraphale, his face firmly buried against his arm.

Remember you guys can ask me to do any of the prompts that I’ve shared, I just need to know which ones! ^^

#@blueflutist1228 #good omens #ineffable husbands #good omens fanfic #good omens fanfiction #my fics #storm writes #storm answers

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jjkpls · 5 years

Text

untitled (m)

> genre : smut

> pairing : jeon jungkook x reader

> words : 3.6k

> warning : none

> Jeon Jungkook, the cute irresistible dongsaeng, proposes to help you out of a dry spell or something like that. (blowjob; noona kink maybe)

A/N : sorry I’m bad at summaries please read lol; also I’m sad because I couldn’t find a gif of the very moment that inspired this. also i hope the smut doesn’t suck too much (pun intended). and kookie I’m sorry TT

> Read the bonus: Jungkook’s POV after reader’s confession here !

« Wait! »

My hands jump to grab his own but I stop mid-track, almost falling off the bed. He freezes his movement, he is a second away from taking off the very last pieces of clothing covering his frame, he then raises his eyes at me. Round and large with confusion. His bottom lip, the cutely plump one, falls downward.

« What are you doing? Are you insane?! »

I may have screamed a little too hysterically because he starts pouting like an upset kid, ready to whine and maybe even cry. I almost find him adorable, almost feel bad but after a quick blink, I'm reminded that right now he is the farthest from a kid he has ever been.

His fingers are twitching nervously, centimetres away from the fly of his jeans. I am trying, concentrating all the willing power I can gather, to not look at him. But he is standing right here. So close. The enchanting smell, a mix between a sweet sugary note and a more natural one, subtle touch of sweat that makes my mouth dry and my head slightly dizzy.

I am so weak I need to close my eyes shut to stop staring at his fair skin. Even from the corner of my eyes, I can not help but notice the studded trail of hairs under his belly button, the trace his boxers' waistband has left on his skin. My heart misses a few beats and I'm terrified, for a seemingly eternal instant, that it won't start anew.

It was too sudden. It feels like a second happened between the moment he knocked on my door, and the one when he just occurs to stand right in front of me, clearly on the path of stripping himself entirely naked. His clothes must have been removed at some point but I did not even get to see it coming. Red is starting to colour his cheeks and his fingers tremble more in the air.

"Noona, you said you wanted me..." He transpires sheepishness. His words, stuttered out through pouty lips, are inarticulate, lisped even more than usual. I don't think I've heard him sounding so unconfident in the past two years. He used to be like this all the time back when we'd just met and he had a hard time hanging around me without awkwardness bubbling in his belly. I really thought that period was way behind us, buried to never see the light of day ever again as we've learned to grow so comfortable around each other. But here he is, uneasy breath stumbling out of his agape mouth, his whole being decomposing under timidness and confusion. My heart squeezes painfully in my bosom.

He doesn't get the fact that I'm turning away so far, stiff neck starting to hurt from the position, just to avoid looking at his body. He might be even a little hurt by it. My inner instinct to take care of him in any circumstances, makes me want to catch his hands in mines and squeeze them lovingly until the confusion fades away. But I know I just can not do this. Not when my fingers, even with the most careful effort, might accidentally brush against the warm skin of his chest. Not when he is mentioning this old episode. That old episode I thought had, somehow, auto-destructed itself into thin air to be forgotten by all, and especially by him -because it was over for my own case, no matter what I've tried to do: auto-hypnosis, self pep talk consisting of denying, busying my mind to make sure I don't accidentally think about it and revive the memory to my conscience, the nightmarish memory is still damnly engraved in my brain. That damned episode of that damned time when I did say that I wanted him and even more.

A little bit of soju. Literally just a little bit. I know I can not handle much alcohol. Therefore I am smart enough to avoid it for reasons similar to the one you'll learn soon enough. But I am not wise enough to ignore dumbasses provoking me restlessly.

« Laaaame! »

I glared at Kim Taehyung, head tilted to the side, eyes squinted in quiet threat. He thought he was cool but he looked ridiculous with his glassy eyes and a stupid grin he could not get rid off, swaying on his seat as if stuck on a wild boat. He had a brownish stain going from his neck to down his chest: beer he had spilt on himself after having one fucking drink. Impossible to take him seriously or even consider taking his attacks seriously. But then Park Jimin, the over sexual drunkard, was done acting like a nympho in the hallway he had decided to turn into a dancefloor and came back to the table to harass me as well, as a backup to his soulmate.

So, obviously, to shut their stupid loudmouths I downed a shot glass of soju and well, it was enough for me to lose my goddamn self-preservation and any sense of decency apparently.

It started with what I imagined to be a charming, seducing, definitely tendentious pose. Cheek set on my hand, leaning towards him with my elbow holding me up riskily on the table. I was probably swaying a little bit back and forth like the idiotic Kim Taehyung, but I didn't care. I smiled kindly at him, eyes soft and shiny with mischief.

He, as always, was sporting that dull-witted expression on his face. This kind of blank, simply still expression that doesn't say much. He looks like he is paying great attention but also like his mind is stuck somewhere else and he doesn't understand anything you're saying. Calm and relaxed, big round eyes looking confused even if he's not which, well, could be confusing.

Not that I am blaming him. But if he had a more expressive face, one that would obviously say « Noona, you're drunk and I don't feel like listening to your crap. Please shut up. » well, I would have as I should have shut up for good.

On the moment, I was mistaking the situation. Not feeling particularly weird even though I knew I was spilling some truths I had felt I shouldn't confess to him ever -at least, before this very moment of distraction. Unfortunately enough, I have a perfectly clear image of him left in my mind now. That same image that keeps making me so mortified every time it flashes, unannounced, behind my eyelids.

He was sitting still, next to me, wide eyes emphasized by his stupid Harry Potter glasses, staring at me blankly or dancing amongst the table, as if looking for any plate with anything left for him to eat. His lips slightly parted as in deep reflexion. He had a sign of... disturbance? though. Something pretty obvious. Pretty fucking obvious for someone who wouldn't be intoxicated the way I was. In fact, his leg was shaking non-stop under the table, sometimes up and down, sometimes from left to right. But mindless me, who sort of noticed, could only focus on how tight his light blue denim was stretching on his thick thigh; and the tempting skin, winking at me through the inappropriately large holes.

I leaned even closer so he could hear, him only, all that I had to tell him. About his thighs I wanted to grab, scratch, bite before riding them to cloud 9. His neck I was slightly obsessed with since I saw him once leaving a stage, pearls of sweat rolling down the expanse of his milky skin. His cute lips I imagined red, swollen from my ministration or from the effort they would put on my body; big round eyes shiny with tears from the overwhelming pleasure I wanted to torture him with; soft, dark hair stuck to his forehead, falling low on his eyes; thin waist perfectly shaped for my legs to wrap around. And his stupid ridiculous overgrown-bunny muscles that I couldn't help but imagine him using to lift me up and pin me up against the wall.

And he just left me talk. He remained there, listening carefully as he always does. Not blinking much more of usual. His doe eyes would sometimes look at me carefully, most of the times lose themselves into space, not giving up on much of what could be going on in his head. His face and neck and ears were blushing a vibrant red but I'd just assumed that the alcohol was the cause behind it. Absolutely not that I was appalling him then and there.

I had started to talk about his cock in way too obscene and creepy ways when, luckily, Park Jimin put me in a headlock, begging in a whiny honey-like voice to go dance with him. After fighting him for way too long about the fact that we were in a fucking restaurant and there was no dance floor waiting for any of us, the night I sexually harassed that poor Jungkook kid was over.

« You said that, didn't you? »

« Still, you can't- I thought- Why are you mentioning this now? »

Because it's been like five months. Since then, he's never showed any sign of interest. Literally. He's kept treating me like his noona. The unattractive noona he would not perceive like an actual potentially sexual being. As a matter of fact, he hasn't shown any sign of remembering the incident. I prayed, long and hard, for him to not have any recollection of it and it seemed to have worked. Still acting like a clown to make me laugh, invading my home to play games with me, whining cutely to have me treat him all kinds of food. There was not the least wavering in his behaviour.

I may have thought catching a bizarre hesitation in the looks he gave me at the beginning but I've come to the conclusion that the guilt and the embarrassment made me see things that were not there since, soon enough, he was back to normal.

But he did remember, didn't he?

"Noona, you need a man and I'm here." He says, firmly, straight eyebrows frowned in determination, bombing his chest. He probably thinks he looks tough but he appears quite cute like that.

"What do you mean I need a man?"

"Hyung said so." There is a curse that I can't prevent from slipping out of my mouth. I'm not sure which one of his hyungs he is talking about but I'm pissed. Why, did I think, for a second, that confiding my love -and sexual- life fiasco to them was a good idea? "I remember what you said you wanted from me the other night so here I am. I'll give it to you."

The tone of his voice, sweet and soft as always, not stranded by the tension from earlier, fills up the room and diffuses the nervosity I was suffering from. Biting back a smile, I lean to pick up the tee-shirt he discarded and give it back to him.

"Kook, I don't- Put your clothes back on."

"Wh-why? I- I will do it with you! You don't want me anymore? Why?" It takes all the power in me to not laugh at his cute desperation. I swallow it back though because I'm terrified his sheeny eyes, staring straight back into my gaze, will start spilling tears. With cautious words and a benevolent smile, I explain, calmly, that this situation is just wrong. I explain that he can't just give himself away, throwing himself at me as an offering, just because he's been told that I'm sad and lonely and horny. As kind as his gesture is -in theory- it's simply wrong. You pursue people that you want, that turn you on, not that you want to be kind to.

"I do want you, noona! I really want to do it!"

Do it. It makes me cringe. Not that he is not cute, he's quite adorable as he always is. But him not even being able because of shyness to put the right words makes me feel worse than ever. I feel like a damned sinful creature trying to corrupt a sweet innocent angel.

"You don't, Kook."

"I do!"

"You can't even name 'the thing'! You don't want it, you're just bein-"

"Stop putting words in my mouth." His hands squeeze the tee-shirt he is holding in a frustrated ball. "I do. I wanna make love with you." My heart stops once again. And my centre throbs. The whole tension from earlier trying to seep in the tip of his nose back in the conversation. He is sulking, I can tell by the lowness of his tone. Nevertheless, there is a sincerity strand impossible to ignore.

Those words I've wanted to hear for so long never sounded so good, even in the most sophisticated fantasy my mind could have come up with. My head is dizzy. My cheeks are burning. I just hope he can't see it because it'll be even harder to not give in.

"___." As if the use of my name instead of the usual honorific term doesn't translate enough his newfound confidence, Jungkook throws harshly his shirt back to the ground. Tips of cold fingers grazing the reddish apple of my cheeks, I'm exposed.

"I won't sleep with you, Jungkook." His shoulders slump down, miserably. "I'm- It's too confusing."

He is handsome. He is deadly. From the line of his body to those traits, the most captivating ones I've ever seen on any human's face. And of course, appearances and beauty are subjective. And of course, I don't think, in-depth, that they influence the least one's feeling towards someone else. Quite frankly, it's his heart the biggest and warmest one I've ever encountered that moves me. He is soft and he is so kind and so generous. Before those obscene thoughts have started invading and plugging up my mind, I only wanted to shower him with love and the most platonic kisses. I'm not even sure what happened. Probably that fucking comeback stage coming straight from hell he and his friends performed a little over a year ago.

Anyways, all I was trying to get at is that, besides his soul being so precious, he is hot as fuck and I can hardly consider that he would really, sincerely want me.

"I'm sincere! I really-"

"Jeon Jungkook, stop !" He glares at me, puffs his cheeks, sighing deeply. "You're too weird. You've never shown any interest and out of no-" In a swift motion, Jungkook grabs my hand to place it on his crotch. His bulging, obviously worked up crotch.

"Can I suck you off ?" Yes, I've just lost all willing.

"C-can you- what ?"

"Suck you off ?"

"Ye- I mean no !" He bites hard on his lower lip, the cutely plush one. "No, no, no. It's me- I'm- I'll take care of you."

"Kook, you want to do something for me ?" He nods eagerly, hair flying around, feet scooting unconsciously on the carpet to get closer. "Then let me do this. Pleasing you is what I want."

"Only if you let me take care of you afterwards." He is all frowned eyebrows and tight jaws, looking like a serious negotiator. Therefore, I simply nod, crossing under my thigh my fingers because it's a lie.

Trembling fingertips reach to touch the soft skin of his hips, he flinches under the touch and I almost decide to retract them once and for good. It's a quick glance up to his face that makes me change my mind and grab with more assurance the hem of his jeans. He is looking down at me with this telling glint shining in his pretty eyes. He really wants it. I have no doubt anymore. He is just as nervous as I am.

Leaning forward, I press a soft kiss against his bustling heart, trying to get him to relax as my hands work on getting him out of his pants. He breathes out, his nose releasing a tiny whistle that makes me grin against his skin. I'm so done for this boy. "Kook, I'm a bit eager so I won't take my time. I hope it's okay for you." I ask, peering at him from under. His jeans are unfastened and balled up around the middle of his meaty thighs -the prospect of losing probably 5 good minutes in getting those tight as hell jeans off of him just convinced me to keep them here. Meaty thighs I can't keep my fingers from digging in. God, how greedy I've been for these thighs.

"It's okay, noona, anything is okay." He reassures quickly, words tumbling out messily from the tautness he is under. When I grab a full hand of his still clothed shaft, he twitches not only under my fingers but his whole body does, a loud whimper erupting from him.

"Are you sure you'll be okay?" I ask, a hint of a sneer in the edges of my tone. I'm not mean, I swear. But the cute uncontrolled noises and the vibrant red of his cheeks are just lavishing.

"Yeah, I- fu-" He bites back the curse that almost slipped when I've started massaging him, slowly but firmly, through his underwear. This cutie still cares about not cursing around me. He'll be the death of me.

He is already so hard and he feels so burning hot, my mind starts falling in a haze. It's insane the effect Jungkook has on me. He hasn't touched me in the least bit but I feel like a few words whispered by him might make me come undone.

The darker stain appearing on the tissue resolves me to get to it already. Exhaling hard as to chase away the anxiety, I slip one of my hand inside, dragging the waistband down with the other one. My eyes are observing his face carefully as to delay the moment I'll have to face his cock. Jungkook is so quiet, eyes wide and apprehensive. I smile gently at him, caring to defuse his possible uneasiness despite having to deal with my own. I don't know why I'm so nervous. Maybe because I can't really believe this is happening. Maybe because in the back of my head, anxious little versions of me are running around like headless chickens, bumping into each other, yelling something about what's going to happen after with him, our friendship and everything and everybody else. Maybe because it's been a while since the first and last time I've given head -a debacle, let's not mention it- and I'm terrified to mess up.

When I finally take my wild thoughts under control, I allow my gaze to fall down from his pretty eyes and linger on the object of all my fantasies. My heart is beating like crazy, and my breath seems too short, but I'm overwhelmed by greed and don't let another instant to pass before quite literally jumping on it.

With no sense of shame or embarrassment or doubt, I engulf the most I can of his member, swallowing around it like a starve woman, encouraged by the hissing and whining coming straight from his core.

I am way more selfish than he probably thinks me to be right now. As I'm leaning further on his shaft, between kisses and licks and sucks, slowing my pace so I can feel and enjoy the heat and the smoothness and the dizzying heaviness of his cock on my tongue, I know I wouldn't want to be anywhere else doing anything else. I'm not even sure I would trade this to have him take direct care of my needs. And I know, I am, right now, creating excellent material to recycle for the years of lonely nights I might have to spend in the future.

"Fuck, ___." He groans, looking straight into my eyes. He looks absolutely breathtaking like that. Hair sticky to his forehead, few droplets of sweat rolling down his neck, eyes glassy, and mouth agape. His bottom lip, the cute, slightly crooked plump one I too often tend to be mesmerized by when he talks, is dark as hell and I think I even catch a glimpse of bloody red.

His heavy hooded eyes are clinging to my own in an inescapable hold as my hand jerks him off fast.

"Are you close?" I breathe out, voice hoarse, mostly strained by arousal. His head falls back with another groan. He's too immersed in his own pleasure to answer but the angry red his tip is tainted with tells on him. Closing my mouth gently around the tasty-looking head, I suck hard, jerking hard while his hips follow with an erratic thrusting.

He curses and groans and whines, loud and clear, unbothered by how he might sound to me or even to my neighbours, as I help him out through his orgasm. My name erupts again and again from his sweet lips and I moan from down here, clutching my thighs one against the other wondering if I could actually come just by hearing this sinful calling of my name.

Once I swallowed everything he gave me, I peck his cock gently and release him from my hold. He falls on the bed, spent and eyelids struggling to stay open.

"Do you wanna sleep here ?"

"No, I- I'm not sleeping, I have to give it back to you."

I chuckle at his form, slumped on the mattress clearly not ready to give anything at the moment, and proceed to tuck him under the covers after I've freed him from his jeans and arranged his briefs back on. He complains for good measure but I can hear, as I'm leaving for the bathroom, that he's started snoring.

And shit, I'm not even mad about it.

#jungkook x reader #jungkook smut #bts smut #jungkook scenario #bts scenario #jungkook fluff #bts drabble #jungkook drabble #my writing

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calliecat93 · 5 years

Text

Red vs Blue Season 17 Review, Part One

On March 9th, 2019, Red vs Blue: Singularity premiered at last. After the monster cliffhanger of S16, to say that many of us had been anxious would be an understatement. Well, it’s several months later and the season has concluded it’s 12 episode run. So, was it good? Was it bad? Well… that’s a hard question to answer. But however we feel, we’re going to be going over it today in my Season 17 Review~!

This baby got a Hell of a lot longer than intended, so hopefully, it’s coherent. I tried to be firm, but honest. No matter what I think though, there is no arguing that these people put in a lot of work to make this season a reality. I never want that fact to be ignored. So thank you Jason, Miles, Josh, Austin, Greg, Joe, RT Animation, and everyone else for all the hard work. Couldn’t have been easy, but we appreciate it all the same~!

So with that said, for the final time, let us talk about Red vs Blue Season 17.

Visuals/Machinima

This season was unique in that not only was Halo 5 still being us, but they had to go back and use all the past renditions as well. It looked like they were going to use Halo 2 Anniversary for the paradox stuff, a familiar yet different design, but I guess someone decided it was better to just reuse the older games. Which I think was probably the right choice. Halo 2 Anniversary I think would have helped add this feeling of everything being off, but at the same time seeing the previous versions helps connect to the moments more. It adds more emotional investment since we’re seeing something that we recognize being fucked with. It meant more work for the Machinima team, and I hope that they’re all still alive and had a nice vacation after it was all over cause yikes. Their efforts are greatly appreciated~

The machinima was overall very good. Josh Ornelas has been with the show for six years as a machinimator and directed at least a few episodes of S14. So he was more than fit to be a co-director for this season. Austin Clark is newer and IDK when he started (my guess is around 14 or 15), but I think he’s shown that he’s perfectly capable both as a machinimator and as a director. I never noticed any issues with the machinima that threw me off… but as usual, it’s hard to critique what are essentially video game movements/defaults. Very least whenever the characters were emotional or something, I got the feeling from how the scene was framed. Even though you can’t see the faces, the machinimators know how to frame it to make you feel the intended emotion. Episode 9 with Carolina and Wash’s talk I think demonstrated that. Yeah, the VA-ing helped, but you can see the emotion, even though there’s no emotion to display. And while Austin handled the even-numbered episodes and Josh the odd ones, everything felt like they were on the same page, which is essential when co-directing. They both did an excellent job directing.

Animation was sadly sparse compared to the last season. Wasn’t bad though. There were some good bits, like the opening credits and Wash directing his gun at Genkins in Episode 3. Oh. and Genkins getting stabbed with his own golf club was pretty gruesome, especially with his writhing around, but seeing the original Halo animated was nice. We only got one fight scene, but it was Carolina vs Carolina and it was badass. Not as creative as the Donut vs O’Malley fight, but still really good and impactful. Loved it!. The sets and effects were all very good. Just look at the opening. The effects used for The Everwhen looked really cool and other-worldly. The Labyrinth looked pretty creepy, as it should be considering its true nature. And of course, all the previous Halo’s still looked good… maybe a little dated with Halo: CE but still as good as it did in the remaster.

Overall, visually speaking, the season was really good. The machinima looked great and was directed competently. I felt engaged, and that’s what’s important. Definitely one of the season high points.

Voice Acting/Music

We’re mainly going to be discussing Dan Godwin, Shannon McCormick, Jen Brown, Ricco Fajardo, and Lee Eddy. Everyone else in the main cast was pretty much at the expected level of quality. There’s sadly not much to talk about specifically, which we’ll go more into during the character section. But Joel, Matt, Gus, Geoff, Becca, and Jason Saldana all did well and gave the quality that I expect from them, just nothing that stands out really. I’ll say this, Geoff and Becca’s performance in the finale was very strong and emotional and I loved it. Matt he both got to do Wyoming again and had to do Doc and O’Malley at the same time, which he nailed perfectly. And hearing Burnie as Church again was really nice… but never let him do English Lopez again. Ever.

Let's talk about villains first. Ricco Fajardo as Genkins is freakin’ fantastic. While we got glimpses of it last season, Genkins fun but truly shitty self is on full display this season. And Ricco is clearly having the time of his life recording it. He’s just always so cheerful and having fun, but it feels so messed up and sadistic due to the circumstances. But he owns it. Sometimes having a villain who is just shitty can be fun, especially if you have a competent actor doing it. And Ricco absolutely nailed it. We also have Lee Eddy, who voiced 479er, make her return to RvB as Chrovos. She too is clearly having a fun time. She goes full-on Large Ham with Chrovos’ theatrics and basting but also portrays her getting fed up very well. It’s the Gwen in her showing, haha. But yeah, these are two fun villain characters, and the performances very much reflected that. Loved it~

Next, we have our Freelancers, Shannon and Jen. They both got the emotions hard this season. Which considering how their plot ended last season, is no surprise. It’s no shock that these two did very well, but… man… Jen had to express a lot of guilt, but also a lot of tears and pain. Which she did very well. Carolina feels terrible and has to accept that her efforts were in vain, and Jen conveyed that very well. The second that Carolina breaks down in Episode 9… God, I just wanted to hug her. Then there’s Episode 11 where Carolina is confronting her past self, and it truly does feel like two different characters, even though it’s the same actress. It was a very strong performance this season, arguably her best one yet.

Then we have Shannon. Oh golly, Shannon. How long has he been doing Wash now? Over a decade, right? He knows this character in and out… and he perfectly shows that this season. Wash has a lot to get through this season. His anger at Carolina, him having to accept what happened, accept what has to happen, it’s a lot. Shannon nails it. From going back and forth between normal and crazy in Episode 3 to any time his anger at Carolina showed, to his talk with Carolina in Episode 5, his acceptance of his fate and prepping for it in Episode 9, and his horror to seeing everyone die in 11. And he still got lighter moments, like his interactions with Donut, which were super enjoyable. Shannon just knocked it out of the park this season, and I loved it.

But of course, the one I have to give the biggest kudos to is Dan Godwin. While he has performed Donut since the very beginning… well, he only got to do so much since Donut only got to do so much. He never did a bad job, or he was on par with everyone else, but he simply wasn’t really allowed to go beyond ‘optimistic, innuendo-spouting moron’. That is, until now. Dan got to do so much this season. He got a full range to do with Donut that he really never got, or only got so briefly. He got to be emotional, he got to be angry, he got to be frustrated, he got to be utterly done with absolutely everything. And he conveyed all of that very well. Heck, I think the pitch even lowered a little bit compared to before, or it felt less squeaky as the season went on. It feels more like an in-between of Blood Gulch Donut and pre-Paradox Donut, which I think works. Overall, Dan got to show how much experience with the character he really has after so many years of not getting to, and he was by far the best performer due to it.

Everyone in the cast did great. Even for brief returns like Miles and Gray with the Mercs, Arryn Zech with Dr. Grey, and the Freelancers all did a great job. Jason Weight as Grif’s coach was also simultaneously hilarious and scary. He clearly put his all into it, anyways. As for the music… what? Ae we surprised that it was good? David Levy and Trocadero again delivered a solid soundtrack. The fact that we have to wait for both this soundtrack and still for the S16 soundtrack continues to upset me. But at least it means a lot of quality tracks whenever they do come out. Solid job overall from the music team.

Characters

So one of the problems with these reviews is I have to remember to look at things two ways: as a fan and as a critic. We had a lot of really good character stuff with some characters… and not so much with others. And looking at it as a fan and then as a critic causes two widely different perspectives regarding this section. Normally I’d rather get the negative out of the way, but to explain the negative I have to talk about the positives first. Hopefully, I don’t come off as too harsh, but I want to be honest in this review as well. So.. here we go.

Okay, happy first. The two main focuses of this season are Donut and Wash. Let's do Wash, and in turn Carolina, first. Wash… well, got put to the side last season for the most part. His plot was mainly focused on his brain damage that he didn’t know about and ended with his blow up at Carolina. Which we all know what that leads to. Here, Wash has to deal with the fallout of it. He gets to stabilize and be back to pre-brain damage and is determined to save the others… but his anger at Carolina is lingering. His arc this season is about him forgiving Carolina, helping Donut, and accepting his own fate. I think, overall, Wash had a very good arc. And this is coming from someone who is not that big of a Wash fan.

Wash’s anger at Carolina is understandable, but he realizes that she did it out of concern for him and never meant to hurt him, and especially after talking to her in Episode 5 and how even when paradox’d she still trusts him, he forgives her. Carolina, in turn, has to deal with the immense guilt of her actions… again. Yeah, the fact that we got another ‘Carolina is guilty’ story after Freelancer, S13, and S15, it’s feeling a little repetitive. But her emotions regarding it were very well written. You do really feel the remorse and understand why she did what she did. It makes it even worse when in Episode 9, Wash accepts what has to happen and Carolina has to accept it. It was one of the toughest scenes in the season but was such a beautiful, poignant moment for both. They still have problems, like Wash fears of losing everyone and Carolina has past issues lingering still over Freelancer and her family. But it’s safe to say that they’ve both become closer and stronger.

The biggest character of this season is, of course, Donut. This was a long time coming. Up until the end of the last season, Donut was probably the most underutilized character in the show aside from maybe Lopez and Doc. He went from a dumb but semi-competent rookie to a flamboyant, one-note joke character. Like after Blood Gulch I can't think of anything significant that he contributed. Recollection more or less wrote him out/killed him off, Chorus did nothing with him, and S15 also did nothing with him and even forgot him in certain scenes. S16 began to fix that, having Donut get annoyed at being ignored, nearly betray everyone, and then get into one of the shows best fight scenes by far. So we were building up for something for this season, and sure enough, it came and it came hard… was that at innuendo? Dang it Donut, you’ve influenced me too much!

This was developed for Donut that was loooong overdue. He further got frustrated with being ignored and belittled by everyone around him. He recognized his innuendo problem and tried to actively improve it. He showed some of that competence he had in Blood Gulch, piecing things together and actively taking charge since he understood things the most. When he told everyone off in Episode 7, it felt so satisfying because of how long he’s been treated like a nuisance when he was at worst a little annoying and TMI. He was willing, tried his best, and it really felt like he was finally allowed to be more than just a joke. It really made me like and appreciate Donut a LOT more than I did before. Like he used to not just be my least favorite Red, but my least favorite of the BGC. Now? He’s right below Grif and Simmons on the Overall Favorites List. Yeah, that’s a LOT of places.

Donut was great and I wouldn't change him getting him this development… but this development did come at a cost. That being development for everyone else. The other Reds and the Blues were shafted and shafted pretty badly. The first half of the season, they are trapped with no memory and go about how they would in that time period. Which okay, it’s necessary for the plot so we can overlook that one. They get restored in Episode 6… and they are STILL badly shafted. They are all joke characters, which does NOT work when we’re this deep in the plot. I mean we get some moments, like Tucker reliving his failure on Crash Site Bravo and recognizing his fault over the past few seasons, Sarge has his scenario in Episode 11 that I thought was very insightful, but those are small moments. Sadly, Donut got too much attention. Even with Wash, him realizing how he was the Donut of Freelancer was more or less contributing to making Donut look good, as did Tucker’s moment. I like those scenes and I love Donut… but not everything had to be about him. He’s the main character, not the only one.

Let's do the Blues first. As I said, there were more or less just there and had no real major character development or effect on the plot. But that being said, they were given some legit good stuff. Tucker got it the best as he re-lived Crash Site Bravo and finally realized true leadership was. It was about stepping up when no one else would and when things were at their bleakest, not being the cool, macho guy like he kept acting like it was. Which after these past two seasons, was nice to see. I was one of the people who were perfectly fine with how Tucker was written the past two seasons because I could see why he had regressed. But I do know that a lot of people didn’t like it, and this feels like a good way to bring it all around. Have Tucker relive his worst moment, this time having to let it go through, and therefore truly remember what caused him to step up on Chorus: because he had to. It’s short, but it does its job and this along with his Labyrinth vision I think has really helped Tucker’s character immensely.

Caboose is overall pretty minor but had some good scenes like beating the shit out of Genkins in Episode 6 and figuring out how time travel worked before the others. It helps show that he’s an idiot, but he’s a smart idiot (if that makes any sense) and was a step up from his limited screentime last season. He also had my favorite line in the entire season (“These graphics look horrible!”). Sister was overall minor, but I’ll go into her later. You’ll see why when I get there. Doc was overall also minor and how the Hell he was in the Everwhen I’ll never know, but I do like him in the finale and finally getting a grip on O’Malley. He more or less is a combo of the two now and seems much more capable due to it, so that’s good. So yeah, while it may not have been a lot, the Blues and Doc were at least given something, which is better than nothing at all.

The Reds though… so you know how these past two seasons started giving them more development? You would think that since Donut is the main character, that would continue, right? Haha… nope! They went right back to ‘the comedy relief team who do absolutely nothing!’! Which after the past two seasons started to do more with them… yeah, this felt like a slap in the face. Sarge annoyed me this season. Mainly in Episode 7 where he was a hypocritical asshole about Donut’s betrayal, ignoring how he not that long ago betrayed everyone and was still feeling guilty about it. He was also the one primarily being a jerk to Donut, which did not do him any favors. I know it’s Sarge and he’s an asshole, so it’s not 100% unexpected… but I felt like it was pushed too much just to contribute to the ‘Donut is so unappreciated!’ arc. His speech in Episode 6 was hilarious though and I did like his Labyrinth vision showing that he can't handle both civilian or army life. It was surprisingly insightful in a way that I’m not used to with Sarge. So yeah, I feel his screentime was on par with Sister and Caboose at least.

Simmons… got nothing. Absolutely nothing. I mean the running gag where he kept seeing Donut shot was really funny, and it also meant he wasn't an asshole like Sarge. Heck, he seemed to be the only one willing to hear Donut out about saving them in Episode 7. And he did more or less point out how they could launch the gold club through the portal to stop Genkind from reigniting the paradox, which was minor but nice to see for him. Him not being a kissass anymore is also sticking, which seeing him back when he was pettier in Episode 2 did make me appreciate where he is now. The way that he was legit concerned for Donut during the ‘Wash shoots Donut’ gag also helps make it look like he at least cared about him in contrast to Sarge’s jackassery. But he was otherwise just there. Very least, it also means he was the only Red that I didn’t get frustrated about since his character remained consistent… until the finale with the utter bullshit that was his nightmare. Seriously guys, what the fuck?!

But at least with Sarge and Simmons, they weren’t exactly in the spotlight last season, so I don’t feel like I got cheated with them. I cannot say the same about Grif, however. Which we will cover that, as well as the Story section, in Part Two.

(Part Two)

#rvb #rvb17 #rvb spoilers #rvb reviews #callie reviews

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neverwatchedonepiece · 5 years

Text

609-610: "Luffy Dies from Exposure?! The Spine Chilling Snow Woman Monet" and "Fists Collide! a Battle of the Two Vice Admirals!"

Surrounded by trash, unsure of location or direction. Too real, Luffy. Too real.

I feel like a broken record at the moment but Punk Hazard really is delivering.

Across 609 and 610, we had Law vs Vergo with a surprise interruption by Smoker. Caesar was the subject of unexpected character development. Even Luffy vs Monet had a twist, with Luffy falling into a trash compactor and meeting a tiny talking dragon.

I bet that’s Foxfire’s son. The little dragon had a kid’s voice.

I’m just glad the big dragon the Strawhats roasted wasn’t Momonosuke (@mrkashkiet, I am looking at you sternly. xD)

Law Just Cannot Quit Smoking

And does not want to.

The action picked up with Vergo hoofing it to the SAD Room. Speed lines ahoy!

Inside, Law slowly drew his sword in front of a vast tank of SAD Gas. Not sure what he was planning to do, but let’s not dwell on it, in case his plan was literally explosive.

Vergo appeared at the door. “I feel like my hand has been bitten by my own dog. This is too much even for a mischievous child. You were always too smart for your own good. People like you tend to die young.”

You know, I’m not keen on stoic villain types but I’ve got to admit that Vergo has some killer lines.

“It would be easiest to crush your heart but I won’t do that. I’ll torment you slowly as I please and warp your smart ass face with fear.”

Like I said, good lines.

He wailed on Law with grim purpose to the point I found myself shouting, “Come on, Law! ROOM YOURSELF OUT OF THERE!” Law was not having a fun time. (Dare I say, he was SAD?)

But his instinct for shit-talking was irrepressible. “Are you guys frustrated because your scheme is coming crashing down? Is this thing that important to you?”

Well, yeah... If Caesar is *the only person* who can make whatever it is that Doflamingo wants, then SAD must be profitable. Profits before pals seems to be Doflamingo’s modus operandi, but I don’t get the feeling Law is all that surprised Vergo is trying to kill him.

Law did fight back. There was an attempt. He tried to Room his heart back. But Vergo is fast and snatched Law’s heart from the air.

The worst thing, though? Vergo punched Law so hard he lost his hat. That is not cool. It must have riled Law enough for him to try his (awesome) Counter Shock attack. It was big, flashy and high voltage, but it only left Vergo lightly toasted.

Vergo must have decided to kill Law then because he said, “I have a message from Joker. He said, ‘What a shame.’”

Law was weirdly zen about the whole situation. “Oh, well. It didn’t work. I was pretty sure I could take my heart back from Caesar, but I didn’t expect you here, Vergo.”

The lack of -san honorific was the last straw for Vergo. He squeezed Law’s heart like a stress ball. Toei’s red filter descended. Soul-shredding pain was experienced. Law screamed a lot. As you would if your heart was being squeezed by a maniac.

Then, a shaft of light descended from the vaulted heavens.

Except not really because it was Smoker.

It’s almost the same thing.

Vergo was typically cool about the interruption. “I’m in the middle of something. Does it have to be now, Vice-Admiral Smoker?”

And I did a backflip. Yes. Excellent interruption. Great timing, Smoker! Now stop being so fixated on the Big Tanks That Go “Blort” and execute your glorious revenge!

Really, now I think about it, Vergo is almost as bad as Caesar. When Smoker called Vergo out on his deceit and told him not to tell the G5 Men as he was a father figure to them, Vergo said, “Don’t tell me you actually care about those guys? I’m a base commander. I can do whatever I want to my no-good subordinates.” Another one who treats other people as disposable pawns.

Unsurprisingly, Smoker and Vergo came to blows. Smoker seems to be having more luck than Law, but then Vergo does not have Smoker’s heart in a box. What I’d like to happen is Smoker retrieving Law’s heart and they tag-team Vergo into oblivion.

That sounded wrong. But you get what I mean.

Star Wars Episode IV: A New Rubbery Hope

How did Luffy end up in the Death Star’s trash compactor?

His battle with a bird woman from Hoth went south. Literally.

And I cannot believe I am about to say this, but I kind of wish Luffy’s fight with Monet was a little bit longer. Her powers are great. Her self-awareness and cunning are too.

She maintained those ten layer kamakura walls without breaking a sweat. When Luffy smashed one layer, she wrapped another around her frozen prison without missing a beat. Luffy knew she was stalling for time and said he’d just break every layer quicker than she could replace them.

“I bet,” she said. Then swept up behind Luffy and, in an oddly flirty manner, whispered in his ear, “I don’t think I’ll win if I fight you, but the strongest isn’t always the winner in a fight.”

Then she grabbed him and wrapped him, literally, in winter’s embrace.

That hypothermia power was quite cool (no pun intended). Paired with those desolate, snowy vistas and her eerily calm voice urging Luffy to let go, to sleep, relax and let it be, Monet’s Devil Fruit seems pretty strong to me.

But just as Luffy was about to pass out, Zoro’s voice - the very warning he yelled at Luffy a couple of episodes ago - cut through the darkness. “THIS IS JUST THE BEGINNING OF THE NEW WORLD!”

I don’t think I’ll ever get tired of the blue filtered haki moments. When he sprang up and let loose that Jet Spear attack, I cheered.

Then he fell through the floor into a garbage chute and I laughed.

It was cool, though. He’s rubber. He’d bounce. And sure enough, it wasn’t long before he was raking through broken gadgets for food. At which point a tiny dragon spoke to him and that is where the story ended.

I am now 75% sure that tiny dragon is Momonosuke. It had a kid’s voice. Probably should be a higher percentage than that but I like to hedge my bets, haha.

Chopper Looks Like Every Harried Substitute Teacher Ever

While Luffy was readjusting to life in a trash compactor with a small talking dragon, Monet flapped away to tick off another box on the never ending to do list: securing the Addicted Experiment Kiddies.

Said kiddies were knocking lumps out of Chopper with their ferocious addict strength. He could not restrain them without hurting them. He tried to convince them not to eat the candy. “I know it’s hard but you have to endure it!”

The thing is, Chopper was dealing with a double helping of trouble here. Not only are they kids, who are naturally more self-centred due to their developing brains. They are also addicts who are so far down the rabbit hole of whatever drug Caesar was peddling they’ll do anything for a fix.

When Chopper’s rumble ball wore off, the kids trampled him and thundered straight for the Biscuit Room, where Mocha was waiting alone.

Luckily, he was picked up by Nami, Zoro, Usopp, Robin, Brook and Foxfire. (Do not remember Brownbeard hanging around. Did he leave or did he just not have any lines?)

Robin tried to restrain the kids. That was interesting for two reasons: one, I didn’t know Robin could feel damage sustained by her extra hands, and two, she asked Usopp and Brook to try and find a pair of Sea Prism Stone cuffs because Luffy had asked her to. (I bet his plan is to cuff Caesar!)

The kids charged Mocha, who tried to tell them the candy was evil! Then Monet whirled into the room on a frosty zephyr. (The best part of this entrance was when Usopp shouted: “I TOLD YOU THERE WAS A BIRD WOMAN!” He was finally vindicated.)

Yay, thought Mocha. It’s Monet-san. She’s lovely!

Nooooope. Monet told her, in a sweet, ever-so-reasonable voice that it wasn’t nice to keep all the candy for herself. Mocha should share it with the others, like always. Mocha’s little face when she sensed betrayal was just heart-wrenching. “Why?” she whispered.

Because Monet is a nasty piece of work just like Caesar? Just a thought.

Not sure what’s going to happen here. There are a *lot* of Strawhats in the room, so I’m guessing Monet will be defeated by them. Then they’ll push through, deliver the cuffs and - BAM - we have one angry, kidnapped scientist.

Sanji Acquires Unexpected Fans

This was a short scene but the fact that Sanji has a cadre of devoted fans in the G5 is hilarious. Yeah, he claims he doesn’t want their approval. And he probably doesn’t.

But Sanji cannot stop himself running back to save the poor saps who can be saved.

This is the Sanji I like: surly on the outside with a golden heart on the inside. More, please!

And the Academy Award for Best Actor goes to . . .

CAESAR CLOWN!

Seriously.

The yarns this guy can spin could crush the GDP of a small textile-dependent country.

Caesar should run for office somewhere. Then he could appoint himself head of the science department.

For that is exactly what has been bugging him for years, it seems. He wants Vegapunk’s job.

Well... maybe not the job. (He’s getting by just fine thanks to pirates. A Government job would ruin that). It’s the fame and kudos. That’s what he’s after.

Plus he has a weird goal: to achieve world peace by obliterating all sources of conflict - collateral damage be damned. Unless he’s lying about that. Given his oscar-winning performance, that would not surprise me.

The action picked up with Caesar caesaring through a pipe and landing outside the Secret Room (I laughed when I realised everyone on Punk Hazard literally calls it the Secret Room).

He was bitching about having to enter the room because it was Vegapunk’s old office. Still, he claimed it was the only place where he could “pull it off”. (I am unsure why he had to go to Vegapunk’s old office just to close some doors, but I’ll chalk it up to plot and say no more.)

He promised to make Luffy, the Strawhats, G5 and Trafalgar Law pay for ruining his plan. It was all their fault! The experiment could have been a great show - everything perfect and beautiful and befitting of the world’s greatest scientist (Vegapunk says hi!) But they screwed it up. He couldn’t let the Strawhats do as they liked. They’d pushed it a little too far and he has Joker on his back now.

He ordered a minion to close the gates to Buildings C and D. This would lure all survivors into one narrow room. His plan? Trap them in the bottleneck and pump the room full of his poison gas through the air vents. He would broadcast it as a snuff movie for the brokers. That would show them what he was really made of!

But the minions hang on his every word and they caught one small discrepancy.

“Um... did you say that *you* had created the poison gas, Master?”

Caesar’s haughty reply was, “Yes, I did.”

“But it’s like Vegapunk’s gas. It freaks us out.” Understandably, the minions probably have ptsd from four years ago.

The moment when Caesar realised he’d let his ego run away with him and opened his big mouth was glorious. How could he spin this? How? The animators did a great job here. You could see the evil, conniving cogs turning in his mind.

Then he broke out his Oscar winning performance.

“This is . . . an avenging battle of science. My people! That day, I tried to stop the mad scientist, Vegapunk. No! If such a weapon exploded, what would happen to the people on the island?” Caesar even threw in a melodramatic “YAMEROOOOO, VEGAPUNK!” for some extra emotional sparkle.

“But the accident happened. And he still lords if over us as the head of the science department of the Marines. and he’s considered the world’s greatest scientist. I cannot tolerate it! He’s the cruel man who hurt you all! Do you think it’s right that people still call him the number one scientist? That’s why I want to prove them all wrong. I didn’t want to make a weapon of mass destruction! But I want to show them that there is a greater scientist here. That I am the greatest scientist in the world! When the Marines acknowledge it and when I become head of the science department, my dream will come true. I can use my scientific knowledge to bring peace to the world!”

I honestly had to stop myself giving Caesar a standing ovation. What a performance that was.

You know, it’s weird. Every lie Caesar told there has a basis in truth. That’s the most dangerous liar right there because the lies they tell are more believable. Does the Gas-Gas Fruit confer gaslighting powers too? Because Caesar is a hellishly efficient manipulator.

And while Caesar was congratulating himself, a flashback happened!

Caesar is Prime Material for /r/IAmVerySmart

Caesar with a bob was weird. I’m guessing when he moved to Punk Hazard, there was a lack of stylists, so he just grew his hair out. That hair you see right now? That is four years of growth.

At any rate, Caesar was doing something a bit more important back in Vegapunk’s lab. He was debating morality with some other scientists. They begged him to stop his experiment. If it exploded, it would kill everyone on the island.

Caesar was typically receptive to criticism. “STFU, boneheads! Where do you think you are? This is a Marine research facility. They want to kill as many pirates as the can. What they need is a weapon that will do it for them.”

“But they don’t want one that will also kill civilians!”

Caesar’s rebuttal? “It’s called collateral damage! If we blow away everything, we can bring peace to the world.” (Does he genuinely believe that? That’s a properly depressing view of the world he holds there, if true.)

“You’re so...”

Caesar had a, “I’m gonna stop you right there” moment. They wanted to say he was cruel? What a joke. They were using prisoners as guinea pigs as if they were trash. What was the difference? (Fair point, Caesar.) Moreover, Admiral Sengoku was too soft, but Akainu, if he was in charge, *he* would want a weapon Caesar made. (Also interesting. I hope Caesar never decides to change sides again. He would be dangerous in Akainu’s hands.)

He went off on one about how Vegapunk had failed to turn people into giants again. Caesar knows you can’t turn people into giants in a short period of time unless you use magic, so had suggested Vegapunk just kidnap some kids and feed them drugs until something worked. What a lovely idea, Caesar! xD

The flash forward revealed Caesar’s “William Birkin Moment”.

Just as he made a significant discovery, Marines burst in and cuffed him with sea prism stone. Vegapunk himself came to see off his old colleague. I was ONE HUNDRED PERCENT HYPED for about half a second. But there was no face.

Blue balled. Again. xD

Caesar was summarily dismissed from the Science Department. “Your eccentric behaviour is intolerable and I cannot protect you anymore, Caesar.”

Interesting that what the rest of the scientists did was viewed as fine and dandy, but Caesar taking it a step further was regarded as “eccentric”. First off, eccentric is a gross understatement. Secondly, what they’re doing is pretty evil too. Caesar is just overtly, unashamedly amoral. They hide it better.

Suffering such a humiliation, Caesar had his “SCREW YOU!” moment and pushed the big red button. Punk Hazard went up in a Mighty Kaboom-Boom Cloud.

Still wondering how they all survived that, but I will chalk it up to plot and say no more.

Of course, after Caesar’s theatrics, his minions fell over themselves to apologise. Sorry, Master! You are the saviour, after all.

“Thank you... thank you all,” Caesar simpered, while inside he called them unintelligent fools. So easily manipulated. Dumb as bricks.

This guy needs taking down several pegs. Maybe an entire cloakroom rack.

Luffy, please oblige asap.

Caesar tells a rip-roaring, thigh-slapper of a yo momma joke.

(No one laughed.)

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perpetually-jungshook · 5 years

Text

RED || 04

Genre: humor, jimin x jungkook; taehyung x jimin; taehyung x jungkook, angst, fluff, humor

Summary: Life is weird. Jungkook works as Jimin’s niche porn photographer and finds it difficult to remember that the he’s only flirting with the camera. Namjoon despises the world of big business but works as a manager for an international corporate company and hates it (cruel irony, he says). Yoongi is just a typical IT guy who has a secret he’s never told anyone, which is totally typical. Hoseok and Seokjin work at a retirement home, from which they one day bring back some random volunteer with fiery red hair who may or may not change everything.

Warnings: language, crude humor, pining, explicit sexual content

Word Count: 11.2k

Links: Storyboard || 01 || Previous || Next

Since tomorrow is Sunday, Jimin doesn’t have to worry about his office job, which means he can stay up late relatively guilt free. Thus he disregards the need to look at a clock, gliding through the surreal after-midnight hours, passing time by scrolling through social media on his phone and idly listening to some TV show about baby animals for background noise.

He’s not sure exactly what happened between Seokjin and Namjoon after they started talking on the phone, but from what he could hear, it sounded like it had gone okay. The older boy had admitted to being irrational and apologized, saying something about “personal issues getting in the way of my judgement and stuff.” Jimin thinks they may have agreed to meet for breakfast tomorrow morning to talk things over, which is a great start. At least, it’s better than running out of a restaurant and coming home to mope about perceived rejection. But that was a few hours ago, just before both Seokjin and Hoseok went to bed.

According to Instagram, one of his high school friends is getting married; and on an unrelated note, piglets have very sensitive snouts.

Jimin can only assume he’d begun to doze at some point because eventually, he’s startled awake by the sound of the door opening. The world that comes back into focus is a bit hazy at first, foggy around the edges with sleep still tugging at his mind, coaxing him to come back with sweet whispered nothings and a gentle hand.

Illuminated by the soft blue light cast over the room by the TV is a vaguely familiar head of fiery red hair. A small smile that leaves Jimin puzzled finds its way onto his own expression.

“Hey.” Jimin’s voice is a little hoarse, deeper than normal.

Taehyung looks up, probably surprised that anyone is still awake. His reply is a whisper, likely trying to be polite to the rest of the household, “Hey. You’re still up?”

Jimin nods, blinking sleepily at his new companion.

“Yeah. Where’ve you been? Out so late,” he giggles quietly.

“I’ve been down at Kook’s. We lost track of time watching anime.”

Scooting over to give Taehyung room to sit if he wants it, Jimin curls up around a pillow, hugging it to his chest. “Sounds fun. So you guys are pretty good friends now?”

“I dunno,” Taehyung replies as he goes over to his duffle bag, fishing out some clothes. “He seems really cool. Just kind of shy.”

“Yeah Kookie’s like that.”

The conversation pauses as Taehyung exits the room, the closing door an indication that he’s probably changing and washing up. Now by himself, Jimin’s eyelids start to feel heavy again and he can only fight the wave-like pull of sleep with a well timed yawn or two. The sound of a faucet turning on momentarily underscores the words of the TV narrator, who is currently describing a sleepy litter of puppies. Gosh darn cute baby animals. They make everything better.

Jimin smiles.

The bathroom door opens and Taehyung walks back into the living room, dirty clothes in a bundle that he sets beside his bag. He’s wearing sweatpants, though any glimpse Jimin might’ve had of them being “hung low on his hips” is unfortunately obscured by a threadbare white T-shirt.

“Taehyung?”

He hums in acknowledgement before taking a seat on the other side of the well loved leather couch.

The pause between calling his name and continuing to speak is just a beat too long, causing tension to flit through the air between the two boys.

“Why do you volunteer at the retirement home?”

It sounds suspiciously casual for the pause that had come just before, but the question “have you decided if you want to fuck yet?” just seems a bit too crass for the situation.

One of Taehyung’s eyebrows rises just a bit, though Jimin is unsure if it’s from shock, curiosity, or neither of those, but it’s definitely not condescending, which is reassuring. Maybe he’s just amused.

“Well,” he starts of quietly, hesitantly. “If you’re looking for a heroic story about me having a heart of gold, I’m sorry to say I’ll disappoint you.”

“Half of my income comes from porn. I really don’t think I’m in a position to judge whatever you’re about to say,” Jimin’s voice is finally starting to return to normal, less rough, now a little amused.

Taehyung takes a deep breath before replying, “I volunteer at the retirement home because my grandma lived there before she passed. We were really close and I guess I just saw how much they needed help.”

If Jimin could stare loudly, he would.

“You realize that’s like, total heart of gold material.”

“Really?”

“Yeah.”

Both boys share a quiet laugh, but Jimin lets his peter out into a soft, “I’m sorry to hear about your grandma though.”

“It’s okay. I miss her a lot, but she lived a good life.” In the dim light of the TV, Jimin can see Taehyung smile wistfully. There’s pain in his expression, but it’s distant, like he’s long come to terms with what happened.

Jimin’s brain is still a tad too much on the “asleep” side of the spectrum to make decent conversation, so he lets the dialogue end at that. It seems like a good conclusion, bittersweet, like much of life. A few minutes pass.

Apparently puppies open their eyes at around two weeks old.

With the subject of Taehyung’s grandmother fading, Jimin’s body is tempted to scoot over and lean his head on Taehyung’s shoulder. The thought makes him feel terribly guilty. Is he really so desperate? Even after his time with Hoseok earlier today? Sure it’s a relatively innocent gesture, but he wouldn’t be doing it to comfort Taehyung, which makes it purely selfish. So he restrains himself, his posture getting slightly stiffer.

It’s when the episode shifts from puppies to kids (the baby goat kind) that Jimin begins to wonder when Taehyung will be going to sleep so he can wallow in awkward shameful semi-silence by himself. And it’s at that point that he realizes he’s literally sitting on Taehyung’s bed.

“Oh my god I’m literally sitting on your bed,” Jimin whisper yells.

All guises of quietness are dropped as Taehyung laughs, but thankfully, his laugh is naturally quiet and deep.

“Did you just realize that?”

“Yeah, I’m really sorry,” Jimin stands up, setting down the pillow and arbitrarily fluffing it. “You’re probably exhausted.”

“I was honestly thinking you were trying to pull something,” Taehyung says, chuckling.

“Pull something?” Jimin pauses, almost tripping on the coffee table as he blindly backs away, intending on going to his room.

“Yeah, like you were trying to see if I’d mention the the possibility of us fucking.”

Jimin’s heart skips a beat, pulse catching on the lump in his throat.

“I, ah, will admit, I thought about it. But some things are more important and it’s super late and you don’t even seem to be that into me so…”

Taehyung stands and in the soft light of the TV, Jimin can see his tongue poke out, briefly wetting his lips, maybe stalling, maybe thinking, maybe neither.

He reaches over and places a warm hand on Jimin’s shoulder, then affectionately ruffles his hair.

“Well I’m glad we got to hang out, even if it was only for a little bit.”

Jimin notices that the other boy doesn’t directly respond to any of his reasons for not bringing up fucking, baited or not.

“Same here.”

Maybe he really isn’t into me, Jimin considers, accompanied by a small pinch in his chest. He gives Taehyung a small nod and walks the remaining few steps to his room, closing the door quietly.

—

Week two PT (Post Taehyung), things seem to be going pretty well. The boy with the fiery red hair is no longer as… threatening as he used to seem. Maybe threatening isn’t the right word, but from what Jungkook has heard, he’s kept his promise and hasn’t tried to fuck Jimin. This is reassuring because it means one, Taehyung (probably) wasn’t lying when he said he didn’t want to sleep with Jimin; and two, Jungkook is starting to think of him as a good friend. And good friends don’t boink each other’s crushes (or, as a recently established rule, steal each other’s already microwaved hot pockets).

It smells like coffee, which is a fairly reasonable observation namely because Jungkook is currently sitting in a coffee shop. His sensitive nose can also pick up hints of tea, but nothing like that godawful poison Taehyung had made about a week ago. Sometimes he still wonders how Seokjin survived. Anyway.

This cafe is one of those places that features a succulent covered wall that doesn’t look completely real or completely fake, leaving customers intrigued but unwilling to touch because it’s color coordinated and shaped into some artsy spirals around the unreasonably cursive cafe name. Jungkook can’t read it, but he’s pretty sure it has something to do with beans. Opposite the plants, the shades have been drawn over the of floor to ceiling windows, filtering the orange tinged evening sunlight into something soft and pleasant to match the dim illumination from the rustic, vintage glass fixtures hung above the high tables surrounded by wooden stools.

Soothing jazz music underscores the sounds of a clacking keyboard, a few conversations, and the loud buzzing of a blender.

Jungkook’s fingers wrap around the warm disposable coffee cup. It’s starting to get colder outside. Not quite winter yet, but he’s glad he can now comfortably wear a hoodie in the middle of the day and maybe not look like a depressed, overworked college student. Not that he doesn’t look like that anyway despite being neither overworked nor a college student.

He inhales deeply, but quietly, shifting around on his stool in a futile attempt to alleviate the stiffness in his lower back and lessen the ache in his butt. Jungkook was the first one to arrive, a little early as usual. And by a little he means an hour. It’s not like he was doing anything productive or interesting on a Thursday night anyway.

So why not go out, even if it means sitting by himself for a while? Distract himself from the fact that he has another shoot with Jimin tomorrow night. He compulsively takes a sip of coffee at the thought. Fuck.

“Jungkook?”

His gaze lifts from the currently upside down inspirational quote “artfully” carved into the tabletop to look for the familiar deep voice. Once again, it’s surprisingly not Namjoon’s.

“Hey,” Jungkook gives Taehyung a small yet genuine smile as he walks over, taking the opposite seat, which leaves the also (but less) unreasonably cursive inspirational quote right side up from his perspective, and the small stage behind him. “You here to see Namjoon?”

“Wait, is he… doing something special?” Taehyung asks, appearing genuinely worried and confused.

“Open mic poetry night?”

“Oh? Is that why you’re here?”

“Is that not why you’re here?”

Both boys stare at each other before sharing a giggle. Taehyung adjusts the faded blue bandana holding up his hair before replying, still amused, “I honestly don’t know what’s going on. Jimin just told me I needed to come. Low key, I was kind of scared he was asking me on a date so poetry night is like a huge relief?”

Jungkook smothers another laugh behind a sip of coffee.

“Well, dates aren’t really Jimin’s M.O. in general, so you don’t have to be afraid of that.”

“I mean, I kind of figured, but I didn’t want to just assume, yknow?”

“True.”

A few moments pass in awkward not-silence, the jazz music still playing, the people still talking, the blender buzzing loudly again.

“So are you super early or did Jimin tell you to come now?”

Taehyung glances at his watch, then replies, “I’m early. What time does the open mic start?”

“About thirty minutes.”

“Okay that’s the time he told me to be here.”

Jungkook feels a little relieved too. It seems that Jimin had just invited him as a friend, though it is a bit strange he hadn’t told Taehyung why. It’s a line of thought that Jungkook forcefully pushes away. He doesn’t have the right to question Jimin’s motives, or to be possessive in any capacity. Besides, Taehyung has proven over and over that he is not interested in Jimin’s advances. So shouldn’t Jungkook, at the very least, trust him?

“I’m gonna go grab something to drink. Save my seat?” Taehyung says with a big, boxy smile.

“No problem.”

Jungkook looks down at the table again, perfectly square and and oddly modern blend of metal and light colored wood.

Another sip of coffee compulsively passes his lips.

Before Taehyung can finish ordering, Namjoon arrives in his beanie, boots, ripped jeans, and three layers of a mismatched mix of a jacket, flannel, and T-shirt. He definitely looks like he belongs in this coffee shop, drinking some fancy hipster beverage Jungkook probably wouldn’t be able to remember or pronounce. In all seriousness though, it’s nice to see his housemate not in a suit and tie.

Namjoon works hard at a job that he hates, so seeing him be himself? It’s refreshing.

He gives Jungkook a dimpled smile and a small wave when they make eye contact, but as usual immediately goes over to secure his place in the lineup, talking to the girl standing next to the small, raised stage set up in the corner of the establishment. It is also an oddly modern blend of metal and light colored wood. Jungkook wonders if it was custom made.

“Looking good,” Jungkook laughs brightly as his older friend walks over.

Namjoon chuckles.

“Thanks. I’m a little nervous.”

“Why?”

Before Namjoon can answer, Taehyung comes back to the table, disposition cheery.

“Hello Namjoon! I hear you’ve got a performance tonight?” Taehyung says, likely not knowing he interrupted. “I hope you don’t mind— Jimin invited me.”

“Course I don’t,” Namjoon replies smoothly, only the typical, genuine easy going good nature present in his smile. “Thanks for coming.”

“What did you get to drink?” Jungkook asks politely, but gives Namjoon a “we’ll finish this later” look.

“Tea.”

“Naturally.” Jungkook laughs and nudges him with his elbow.

Taehyung gasps comically, dramatically placing his hand on his chest.

“And what’s that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing,” Jungkook sing-songs.

“Alright you two play nice. I’m gonna go warm up my voice. Practice a bit more,” Namjoon chuckles, ruffling Jungkook’s hair.

Jungkook scrunches his nose. RIP the twenty minutes of trying to actually care about what his hair looked like before he left. He’d parted it and used a little product and everything. But it’s Namjoon, one of his best friends, which helps Jungkook be a little more forgiving.

“If you’re trying to convince me that you don’t already have everything memorized, it’s not working,” Jungkook teases.

“Maybe not practice then,” Namjoon is still smiling, but there’s something almost nervous about his expression, which is an emotion not often seen on him during open mic nights. “Maybe just work up my courage.”

Without further explanation, he gives Taehyung an acknowledging nod and walks away from the table, toward the restroom. Weird. Why would Namjoon need to “work up his courage?” Poetry is his element, the thing he loves.

Just as he’s about to ask Taehyung for a second opinion (because Jungkook is apt to read social situations incorrectly), the other boy’s name is called from the counter. He smiles apologetically before snaking his way through the sparse crowd, leaving Jungkook alone once again with a quick, “Be right back.”

He doesn’t allow himself the illusion of peace in solitude though, and it’s a good thing he doesn’t because almost immediately:

“Jung-Jung-Kookie!”

There’s only one person who calls him that.

Jimin’s familiar face bounces above a head or two, clearly seeking out his friend. Jungkook raises his hand in a halfhearted signal. The weight of shame at the fluttering of his heart and the heating of his cheeks has become normal and Taehyung’s words echo in his mind.

Nothing feels good or healthy about it, but you can’t help it because you love them.

A ghost of a smile makes its way onto his expression as Jimin spots him, mood visibly brightening even from across the room. The coffee cup suddenly feels too hot in his hands, despite the fact that it’s been cooling for well over twenty minutes now.

“Hey Jimin,” he attempts to greet his friend warmly as the older boy weaves his way over to the table, then circles his arms around Jungkook’s neck in a painful but affectionate hug.

Jimin nuzzles into Jungkook’s hair, humming happily, saying, “I’m excited for tomorrow. I already have my costume picked out and everything. You’ll love it.”

“I always like what you wear.”

The disparity between “like” and “love” are exceedingly apparent to Jungkook, but he figures Jimin won’t notice at all. He just doesn’t feel like he can commit to using the latter word right now.

“But I’m sure you’ll find this one particularly fascinating.” Jimin wiggles his eyebrows playfully, formal diction helping a knot of uneasiness tangle in Jungkook’s stomach.

Before he can find a good response, Taehyung comes back and saves him.

“Look who else is early,” the boy with the fiery red hair laughs lightly, but seemingly genuinely. “I didn’t expect you for another twenty minutes or so.”

He takes his old seat, across from Jungkook and now Jimin, who still has his arms wrapped loosely around the younger boy’s neck.

Jungkook can hear the smile in Jimin’s voice, “My dad always used to say fifteen minutes early is on-time and on-time is late. What’d you get?”

He nods at the drink as Taehyung takes a sip.

“Tea,” Jungkook is shocked to find himself answering first, but Taehyung had told him earlier. So it’s not weird, right?

“Nice! I pegged you as a tea person.”

“Considering he tried to kill all of us with his noxious tea fumes…” Jungkook grimaces.

Taehyung sets his cup down, holding it with both hands as he laughs heartily this time, “That tea is perfectly fine! In fact, it helps get toxins out of your body.”

“It still smelled like feet. Rotten, moldy feet.”

“Stop it,” Taehyung says, humorously pushing out his lower lip. “You’ll hurt its feelings.”

The three of them giggle as Jimin drops his arms a little and hooks his chin over Jungkook’s shoulder, the height of the stool not allowing him to rest it on top of Jungkook’s head. Jimin then turns to look at him, his face so close that Jungkook can feel the older boy’s warm, minty breath on his cheek. He must have just brushed his teeth before coming here.

“How do you know what rotten moldy feet smell like anyway?”

“That’s none of your business.”

This earns him a poke to his side, which causes him to squeak, but it effectively allows for a change in subject.

“Well, it seems like the two of you are becoming fast friends,” Jimin says, sounding thoroughly amused. “And you don’t even live together.”

“Yeah Kook’s pretty cool,” Taehyung shrugs, taking another sip of tea. “We have a lot of things in common— or at least a lot of similar opinions. And this is camomile, just so you know. Not moldy feet.”

He turns his nose up with a dramatic huff, but can hardly conceal a grin. He probably isn’t trying that hard.

“Okay, camomile is acceptable.”

“Can I try?” Jimin asks brightly, his arms dropping as he backs away to move around the table and hop up onto a stool next to Taehyung, looking excited, full smile reaching his beautiful eyes, crinkled cutely, almost closed.

Jungkook mourns the loss of body heat, the feeling of Jimin pressed flush against him, chest to back. Somedays, he indulges in the fantasy that they might cuddle like that someday, Jungkook as the smaller spoon despite his larger body. Seokjin once called it an intense “need to feel taken care of,” but Jungkook thinks of it more like… if Jimin was holding him, it would mean he wants to be there, that Jungkook isn’t trapping him. Maybe it’s a mix of both reasons.

“Sure,” Taehyung hesitates, but only for a moment before handing over his disposable cup.

The blender starts up again in the background.

Jimin takes a drink and makes a face, his ridiculously long tongue pushing out from between parted lips.

“Hot,” is all he says.

Taehyung laughs, “Small sips, Jimin. That’s the trick. Oh, Kook?”

Jungkook looks up, having been staring intensely at his coffee cup, now abandoned by his hands on the table, in order to not imagine the things that ridiculously long tongue might do between his legs.

“Y-yeah?” his voice, unfortunately, cracks like he’s a prepubescent teen again. Dark times. Coconut hair, mostly black wardrobe, a little too much eye liner. Okay maybe some things haven’t changed too much. But he definitely wears it better.

“Do you wanna come with me to record my podcast on Saturday?”

It takes a moment or two to process the words.

“Sure! Yeah— I mean, yes. Absolutely,” Jungkook says, heat rising in his cheeks. “But what exactly would I be doing?”

Taehyung hums thoughtfully, “Well, just hanging out. I thought it’d be something fun we could do together. Then get doughnuts or something after.”

“Great,” Jungkook can’t help smiling. “I look forward to it.”

That random conversation comes to a smooth end as Hoseok and Yoongi enter the cafe and walk over, the former cooing when he sees Jimin still caring for his burned tongue. They go to the register to ask for some cold water and probably drinks for themselves too. Yoongi, already holding a cup of coffee from a franchise store, takes a seat next to Jungkook, having pulled over a stool from another table.

“Isn’t that like, against common etiquette? To bring in drinks from other cafes?” Jungkook asks, causing Taehyung to smother a giggle.

Yoongi’s voice, as usual, is a little on the gravely side, “This place’s coffee tastes like shit and you know that.”

“Well if you didn’t just drink it black-”

“I can drink it however the hell I want, thanks.”

To the outsider, Yoongi might seem unwarrantedly cruel or biting, but Jungkook just finds him amusing. He’s grumpy, sure, but all it takes is a simple laugh and nudge of Jungkook’s elbow to cause an angry pink to dust across his cheeks.

“Yes, black. So it can match your soul.”

“That’s an overused joke and it disgusts me.”

“Hey Kook, you’re one to talk,” Taehyung pitches in carefully, though with an easy smile. He’s clearly teasing, but has mentioned before that Yoongi terrifies him, so his hesitance is understood. He gives Jungkook a dramatic once over, smile getting wider. “I mean look at what you’re wearing.”

Jungkook naively looks down.

“Hey, at least I’m wearing grey and black. Yoongi’s wearing all black.”

Yoongi doesn’t need to look down to shoot Jungkook A Look, retorting, “I’m forced to wear button downs and slacks almost every day. Let me and my goddamn casual wardrobe live.”

“Shhhh,” Jungkook reaches over, placing his finger on Yoongi’s lips. He’s pretty sure that the older boy is fighting the intense urge to bite him. “I didn’t say it looked bad.”

He giggles and drops his hands, leaving Yoongi to mutter under his breath and indignantly sip his coffee. He figures the heat from the drink is probably what causes the red in his cheeks to deepen.

Really though, Yoongi doesn’t look bad. He hardly ever does, even on those hard days where he comes home from work half asleep and Jungkook isn’t sure whether the correct description would involve him murdering a man or having been the one murdered. Maybe it’s not a good thing that he wears exhaustion well, or maybe it’s simply a testament to how hard he actually works, despite his claim that all he does is “turn computers off and on again.”

Today Yoongi looks a little less tired though (then again it could just be the coffee). His hair is a bit disheveled, like he’d been running his fingers through it, and he’s drowning in this oversized black sweatshirt that makes him look nothing short of cute though he would definitely be The Murderer if someone said this to his face. The sleeves are so long that they’re scrunched up around his elbows and still almost cover his pale hands, which are still wrapped protectively around his foreign coffee cup. The lower hem of the sweatshirt drops almost to his knees, covering his dark jeans, which lead down to black converse. Sometimes, Jungkook wonders how it would feel to cuddle Yoongi, sit the older boy down in his lap so he can loop his arms around Yoongi’s waist and hook his chin over Yoongi’s shoulder, but Jungkook figures it would be like trying to hug a pissed off, soaking wet cat.

Now done poking fun at Yoongi, the three of them fall into a comfortable non-silence, listening to the jazz music, blender, and murmuring while scrolling through phones. A few minutes later, Hoseok and Jimin return from the counter, the former holding what he claims to be coffee (but is really hot chocolate), and the later holding a plastic cup of water. The five boys make polite conversation until the lights dim and the girl next to the stage announces that open mic poetry night is about to start.

No one mentions the fact that Seokjin isn’t here.

Namjoon is third in the lineup of five. This might make one think that it would be a fairly brief event, considering four of them are regulars, but it is a wrong assumption. The first person is up on the stage for twenty minutes, speaking in overly enunciated rhyming iambic pentameter. Jungkook internally cringes at the fact that he knows what that is, but he makes sure to clap, knowing that despite how cookie-cutter it was, the person probably worked hard to describe those trees and that lake in so, so many extended metaphors.

The second person is thankfully more on the brief end of the spectrum, clocking in at just under five minutes. What it’s about? Jungkook doesn’t know. He lost interest as soon as he saw Yoongi pull out his phone.

Yoongi isn’t usually the type to answer texts right away, so Jungkook couldn’t help being curious when he spotted the “now” time stamp on the message preview. It was Seokjin, but Jungkook had turned away the moment Yoongi unlocked his phone. If Seokjin had wanted him to see it, he would’ve texted the group chat or Jungkook directly.

Now, Namjoon walks up onto the stage amidst light applause from those patrons paying attention. It’s immediately apparent that he’s lacking the stage presence he usually carries, the confidence that allows him to stride up onto the stage without so much as a quiver of his knees. This time, despite his muscular shoulders, long legs, and broad chest, he looks… small.

Namjoon clears his throat as he gets to the microphone, then holds up a sheet of paper. Sure the other speakers consistently use notes, but Namjoon has never used them when he’s in front of an audience. It raises another red flag in Jungkook’s mind.

“I, um…”

The speakers screech with a bit of feedback, causing him to flinch away from the microphone slightly. A small crease forms between his eyebrows, reading as distress. Memories suddenly bubble to the front of Jungkook’s mind, small snippets, fragments, pieces of a puzzle he probably won’t ever see completely.

Relative quietness in the group chat. Less time with everyone spent at one apartment or the other. A morning where Namjoon left without eating breakfast and came back three hours later before locking himself in his room for the rest of that Sunday.

Namjoon’s voice sounds small too, still deep and smooth, but afraid.

“I wrote this poem just a few days ago after having a… conversation with a friend. It doesn’t have a title yet, but I’ve been thinking of calling it A Study in Gray.”

He pauses for a moment, as if collecting his thoughts. Then begins.

I look at you, sitting across from me,

only a table’s width away.

If I reach out, I would be able to touch you.

Just a brush of my fingers and I could

feel the warmth that’s risen onto your cheek.

If I reach out, I’d be able to put my hand on your shoulder.

A comforting gesture to say I’m here,

you’re not alone.

If I reach out, I might be able to bridge the gap

that I unknowingly created when I told you I’m

not sure what I feel.

These were the things I was sure of:

You appeared excited when we met, nervous.

It made me excited yet nervous too.

You ordered a coffee, which you don’t usually drink

and put a little too much sugar in.

You’ve always said it upsets your stomach.

Why do I know this?

Why do I know that you prefer tea?

I don’t know what it means.

I have entered an area of gray,

where surety has faded into the unsure.

I am uncomfortable here,

which is something of which I’m entirely sure.

My life consists of blacks and whites,

not rights and wrongs but

decisions that turn people into numbers

and emotions into letters on a page.

Equating what happened to a grayscale

is damning both you and me to the world of colors,

though you are anything but gray to me.

You are bright red, passionate;

vibrant orange, excited;

deep blue, stable;

rich violet, imaginative;

and soft pink, comforting.

You are not a grayscale,

but I am— and you help give my life color.

Jungkook’s focus momentarily drifts to Jimin. His features look soft in the dim lighting of the cafe, a small, proud, yet concerned smile tugging at the corners of his lips as he watches their friend speak, slowly gaining a passionate tone, but still lacking the usual confidence. Jungkook’s attention then slowly slides over one seat, now landing on Taehyung. He wears a focused expression, lips pursed, eyebrows drawn together. Jungkook can only see half of his face due to the angle, but the way the lighting plays off of his fiery red hair and tan skin is interesting. His photographer’s eye wants to capture the moment, but he can’t—

Actually, yes he can. Taehyung gave him permission.

He doesn’t have his camera, which is unfortunate, because he’d like to have this moment saved in high resolution, but his phone will work just fine. Jungkook snaps a quick few photos before he blushes and realizes that he should probably take a couple of Namjoon too. They aren’t as coordinated as he’d like them to be, but that’s the thing about candid shots. Isn’t it.

A sharp nudge to his side makes Jungkook wince and almost drop the device. He turns to look at Yoongi, who’s also holding up his phone but is recording instead. Jungkook must have gotten in the way, blocked the view or something. He mouths an apology before tuning back into the poem.

There is only a table’s width between us.

If I reach out, I’d be able to put my hand on your shoulder.

A comforting gesture to say I’m here,

you’re not alone.

If I reach out, I might be able to bridge the gap

that I unknowingly created when I told you I’m

not sure what I feel.

If I reach out… But I don’t.

Because I’m afraid.

Because I’m confused.

And by the time I realize that I

need to

reach out, it’s too late.

I find a wall between us, one of glass.

It allows me to see the color, but not touch it.

And the worst part is,

the wall that separates us…

I don’t know if I’m the one who put it there.

It’s definitely different than Namjoon’s usual ranting about capitalism, sexism, and racism. Jungkook can almost positively say the content change is what had him so nervous, and he can’t exactly blame Namjoon. It was a moment of emotional vulnerability instead of the raw passion he usually displays while writing, then reading it aloud. There was a lot of figurative language, but Jungkook definitely has more pieces to the puzzle now. Seokjin must have confessed that morning at breakfast.

Four of the five boys around the table clap enthusiastically, wanting to be supportive of their friend and probably being embarrassingly loud amidst the polite applause from the rest of the cafe. One set of hands is missing though, this much Jungkook can tell because he’s sitting right next to it.

Yoongi’s thumb hovers above his phone screen for a moment more before he hits the “stop recording” button, then pockets the device. He gets a couple claps in before the next person walks up on stage.

Namjoon practically bounces over to his friends with a bright but nervous smile. He glances at the five boys, scanning their faces. His smile falters.

“Did- did you guys like it?”

There’s still the low murmuring of quiet conversations and mixing drinks in the cafe, background noise that makes talking during the performance a few steps shy of impolite.

“Namjoon, that was great!” Hoseok answers immediately, excitedly, probably a little too loud but the sentiment is appreciated.

“I agree, it was awesome,” Jimin adds with a nod.

Yoongi hums, his voice a little pouty as he thinks aloud, “Could do with a little less repetition, but it was good.”

Coming from Yoongi, that’s definitely a compliment.

Jungkook simply reaches out and puts a hand on Namjoon’s shoulder, giving it a proud, affectionate pat. Taehyung even gives a quiet comment of approval, though looks a bit shy about speaking up.

It does not go unnoticed that while Namjoon glows under the kind words of his friends, he does keep glancing toward the door. Jungkook can’t help but wonder whether he’s disappointed or relieved that Seokjin didn’t show up.

—

Jungkook hums quietly to himself as he sets up his camera, an idle distraction that does little to settle his nerves and instead makes him feel somewhat nauseous. The alternative is feeling very nauseous as he waits in anxious anticipation to see why Jimin’s costume will be “particularly fascinating.”

The ensuite bathroom door opens and Jungkook suddenly thinks there’s a high chance he might be a masochist.

The background image Jimin had requested should’ve given him a hint. It should have, but either Jungkook didn’t want to see it, or he’s just really dense. The edit Jungkook had made was of the interior of an ice castle, and the theme reflects perfectly on Jimin— in the way he’s done his makeup, in the way he’s dressed (or rather, undressed), and the way he’s carrying himself.

A delicate, thin crown sits atop his head, matt silver with a tasteful amount of (plastic) diamonds accentuating the leaf-like design in the metal (which actually might be plastic too). He’s wearing another cape, though this one is noticeably thinner and shimmery silver. Where does he keep getting these? Is there an outlet store for capes? Capes R Us? Jungkook wants to laugh at the thought, but he can only swallow thickly because this time, Jimin isn’t completely naked underneath that cape.

His eyes, made sharper by the makeup, narrow as he smirks, “You like it?”

He’s wearing a body harness, dark leather straps crisscrossing beautifully along his chest, abdomen, and thighs, all in stark contrast with his skin, the cream couch, the silver cape and crown, and the icy blue that will be in the background. It makes him look more feminine than usual, accentuating the generous curve of his hips before spiderwebbing up into a choker, sitting at the base of his neck. It leaves his chest and crotch on full display.

Jungkook has to fight the carnal urge to pull at the straps, yank Jimin forward into a searing kiss. He squeezes his hand into a fist and thinks of taxes and essays.

“I don’t think I should answer that question,” Jungkook clears his throat and goes back to setting up his camera. “But it objectively looks nice.”

“You’re seriously no fun,” Jimin pouts. “I get to see one reaction when we do these shoots and that’s yours. C’mon Kookie, I dressed up so pretty…”

Jungkook pauses, his finger poised on the power button, but he doesn’t look over. Not yet. He’d gone to the gym this morning, just to try it out again before his membership expired. He’d felt good about it, like maybe he was getting back on track.

And yet here he is, struggling to keep a blush off of his cheeks, to keep his goddamn dick in his pants. It’s frustrating, not two steps forward one step back, but like no matter how hard Jungkook tries to step, his feelings keeps restraining him bodily, not allowing a single inch of progression.

With a deep breath, his hands leave the camera and he turns to face Jimin with a small smile, crossing his arms in subconscious defensiveness, maybe hoping to spare himself the pain, “Okay, well what can I say that’ll make you happy?”

“That takes all the fun out of it.”

“Oh stop,” Jungkook laughs lightly, hating himself for feeling like a slut as he caves and walks over, placing his hands on Jimin’s shoulders and keeping his eyes above the waistline. “You look great. Objectively and subjectively. I know you worked really hard for this.”

Jimin’s lips, previously downturned in disappointment, quirk up, his expression vulnerably hopeful as he asks, “Really?”

“Are you asking me to repeat the cheesy as fuck thing I just said?”

“Maybe.”

“If you weren’t pretty much butt naked right now I would smack you.”

“Smack me… where?”

“No, I’m not going to spank you.”

Jimin giggles, wiggling his hips humorously, causing his still flaccid dick to flop around, “But Kookie…”

Jungkook scrunches his nose, “Don’t swing that thing around near me.”

“What? You don’t like it?” He giggles harder, rolling his hips enthusiastically to make his dick bounce, “But you stare at it all the time.”

The younger boy backs away a step, fighting a strange urge to laugh hysterically.

“You can’t prove anything.”

Jimin matches his step and closes the distance again, now rolling his whole body sensuously. It would be… really fucking hot if his dick wasn’t soft. This one detail makes the situation ridiculous and hilarious. Jungkook takes a few more steps back, now laughing openly. His legs bump ungracefully into the bed and he’s forced to half stumble, half crawl over it in a desperate attempt to escape with his sanity at least partially intact.

“Jungkookie! Come give me a hug!”

“Make me.”

“I’m trying!”

Smiling deviously, Jimin catches Jungkook’s ankle, dragging him back onto the bed as he tries to dive off of the other side.

“How are you so small but so strong?”

Jimin is suddenly straddling the backs of his calves and his hand comes down on Jungkook’s ass, more sound than sting through the fabric of his jeans, but he squeaks in surprise anyway, freezing as he realizes what might be touching the back of his thigh. Something brushes against him as Jimin moves again, distributing his weight strategically.

“Is this what you want, Kookie?” Jimin teases, his hands now on Jungkook’s thighs to stabilize himself, not necessarily doing anything naughty. “Is this what you imagine me doing to you when you look at my photos?”

Jungkook’s first response is a petulant whine, muffled into the blankets, followed by, “I don’t jerk off to them.”

“Oh of course you don’t,” Jimin coos, giggling again as his fingers play with the bottom hem of Jungkook’s shirt, pushing it up just high enough so that the cold tips press against the skin of his lower back. He shivers. “Then in your fantasies, do you top or bottom?”

Jungkook’s cheeks must be scarlet by now and he’s trying very hard to ignore the fact that there’s a high probability he’s got a goddamn boner.

“I…”

“C’mon Kookie, I’m curious. Tell me and I’ll get off of you.”

Jungkook lets out another whine of distress as Jimin wiggles on top of him and yeah, that’s definitely a flaccid weenie touching his thigh. In any other situation, this would be pretty great. Jimin in a pretty body harness behind him, otherwise naked, asking whether he’s a top or bottom. But in this situation? Not good. Hella not good. Like a whole metric hella, worth approximately two metric shit tons. More importantly though, why would Jimin want to know this?

He’s never shown more than a teasing, but good natured shallow interest in Jungkook’s obvious attraction to him. What changed? Or has anything changed at all? He fights down the surge of hope. Even if Jimin finally decided to reciprocate feelings, this isn’t how Jungkook would want things to happen. Are rose petals and a candle lit dinner cheesy? Yes, but that’s the kind of boy Jungkook is. So he hesitates, unsure where this is going, what Jimin is thinking.

Jungkook struggles again, trying to get free without having to answer, but it only makes things worse. Much, much worse.

Jimin’s weight shifts quickly as he pins the younger boy down beneath him, chest now flush against Jungkook’s back and oh god the flaccid weenie is now definitely touching his butt (the less he thinks about it as “Jimin’s dick,” quite a serious topic, the better).

“Just tell me pleeeease?”

At this point, anything is better than this situation, Jimin on top of him, wiggling again, material of the cape draped over both of them. It’s starting to get too warm. Jungkook’s brain and willpower are losing traction as tension builds in his body, a mixture of panic, guilty arousal, and physical discomfort. For some reason, it’s Jimin’s fingers withdrawing from under his shirt that finally causes him to snap.

“You top.”

Everything stops abruptly except for the building heat beneath the cape. Jimin is no longer moving and his giggles fade away. For a moment, there is nothing but the sound of their breathing and the faint voices of the TV on the other side of the wall in the living room.

And then Jimin asks, voice unreadably soft, quiet, “I… top?”

“Yeah,” Jungkook says with equal quietness and softness, though he thinks it’s due to the fear of being judged.

“Huh,” he huffs, sounding surprised above anything else. “Well that’s interesting.”

“Interesting?” Jungkook says, a little panicked as Jimin scoots off of him, lying tummy down on the bed beside him. The cape continues to cover both of their bodies, which is probably a good thing. Though with the older boy’s body heat gone, the warmth is a lot more bearable.

Jimin shrugs, the action muffled by the abundant silver cloth around his shoulders.

“Yeah. Most guys I ask want to fuck me— yknow, want to do the fucking.” His voice sounds small as he continues, “So I guess I just didn’t expect that answer.”

Jungkook wonders if Jimin prefers to top or bottom. He’s never heard the older boy explicitly express his preference, probably for the better since it would’ve had to come up in casual conversation. That doesn’t mean Jimin doesn’t have one though, and Jungkook also inevitably wonders whether he lets himself indulge in that preference, or simply allows the other person to choose. He can’t voice any of this though, of course not. It’s not his place. He loves Jimin, but— no.

He loves Jimin, and thus he shouldn’t ask. It’s too personal, might make things awkward because that’s what Jungkook does. He makes everything uncomfortable.

So naturally he goes with the safest option: humor.

“Well you’re the one who climbed on top of me and suggested it in the first place,” Jungkook laughs, but it’s breathy, a little strained.

Jimin gives him a small smile, “Okay true. I just… you didn’t seem like the type that’s all. Considering how much you work out and stuff.”

Work out, present tense. As if he hadn’t just picked it up again today. It’s weird to think that Taehyung knew more about Jungkook’s more recent habits than Jimin does.

“We’re generalizing then?” Jungkook smirks, feeling more comfortable now that he’s started to recover from his near fatal encounter with the unexpected weenie and Jimin has put a bit of physical distance between them. It also helps that they’re teasing again, meaning Jungkook feels less like he’s under a spotlight.

“No! I just… yes,” Jimin pouts, but it’s cute. “I’m sorry Kookie. I of all people should know not to assume things like that.”

“It’s alright,” Jungkook, a slave to his emotions, reaches out and pokes Jimin’s nose, not sure where else he might be able to touch without ruining makeup or hair or feeling like a pervert. “I’ll forgive you one day.”

Jungkook giggles with humorous, purposeful obnoxiousness. It causes Jimin to smile again.

“RIP Jimin,” he says, speaking in third person.

“RIP Jimin,” Jungkook agrees softly.

They lie there for a minute or two, searching each others’ expressions. Or it’s maybe just a few seconds. It’s hard to tell, but eventually, Jungkook takes a deep breath, his voice quiet as if he’s disturbing something more than relative silence, “We should probably get some work done, right?”

The older boy nods and slowly pushes himself up, the cape cascading around him gracefully in some places, hugging him sensuously in others. Jungkook can’t help but notice that his companion’s dick is half hard now, but thankfully, the younger boy no longer has his own half chub to hide. So much for that hallmark romcom scene.

The rest of the shoot is relatively uneventful, considering what happened before it started.

After months of practice, Jungkook has finally managed to perfect (mostly) the art of not (often) looking down at Jimin’s dick, which is supposed to be hard when photos are taken, as per instructions.

So yeah, he totally masturbated as Jungkook set up the lights. It took a lot of humming to pretend he didn’t hear Jimin’s hand, his shaky breathing, and soft sighs. Sometimes he wonders what Jimin thinks about when he touches himself. Certainly not Jungkook, but it’s definitely an intriguing line of thought.

Jungkook also wonders whether Jimin practices his expressions in the mirror between shoots because fuck he just radiates the perfect amount of coldness while dripping with sensuality. It’s a weird contrast, seeing Jimin in a body harness, implicative of binding, and wanting the older boy to fuck him senseless while draped over the arm of the couch.

Taxes and essays. Essays and taxes.

Thus ice prince Jimin is brought out of the imagination and into physical being, captured in photographs with sultry stares, no smiles, and the prettiest dick Jungkook has ever seen (or tried not to see because gosh darn it he still has dregs of willpower).

When Jungkook says they’re done, Jimin stretches out and gives him a small smile.

“Thanks Kookie,” he stands and with a much different demeanor than earlier, wraps the cape fully around himself as if wanting to hide his body. “I’m gonna go shower off.”

“No problem,” he says, returning the small smile. “Want me to wait for you or…?”

It’s still relatively early in the night. He figures Jimin might want to get food.

If Jungkook didn’t know better, he’d think Jimin’s cheeks dust pink, but it must be a play of the light.

“Ah, okay. If you want to. I mean you have to pack up anyway.”

Jungkook nods. They stand there awkwardly for a few seconds before Jimin jabs his thumb over his shoulder, continuing, “Alright, I’m gonna go do my thing.”

He doesn’t wait for a response before walking with quiet steps into the bathroom.

For some reason, sympathy is the first word that comes to Jungkook’s mind. He cleans up the shoot methodically, but avoids the couch. That’s Jimin’s responsibility namely because… well, ass and balls, to put it plainly. It’s just a silent agreement they’ve had since the beginning. The sound of the shower is consistent in the background.

When he finishes, Jungkook sits down on the very edge of Jimin’s bed, trying to relax. He’ll leave his equipment in here for safekeeping. Maybe he’ll suggest eating in, heat up some leftovers because honestly he’s kind of tired.

But then Jungkook perks up at the sound of a familiar voice.

It’s muffled through the wall, distorted slightly by the TV and the shower, yet Jungkook can still tell it’s Yoongi and if Yoongi is here, something exciting is about to happen. He doesn’t go out after work without good cause and he definitely doesn’t come upstairs unless invited (unlike Jimin and Hoseok, who love to pop up in the other apartment without warning).

Jungkook gets up to walk to the door because those extra couple steps will definitely with all certainty absolutely improve his hearing. Yoongi’s talking to Taehyung and it makes Jungkook happy to know he can identify both voices immediately now. What they’re saying, he has no clue but the boy with the fiery red hair laughs, which is reassuring.

His ear presses to the door.

“… something to show him.”

“No, I haven’t seen him yet. He might still be working.”

“Oh okay. Mind if I hang out here?”

“Take a seat.”

“What are we listening to?” Jimin’s whispered voice, so close to his ear, makes Jungkook startle, which causes him to jump back, accidentally elbowing Jimin in the stomach and stepping on his foot. “Kook what the fuck?”

“I’m sorry! You scared me,” Jungkook says, hands ghosting over Jimin to make sure he’s alright. “But I promise I didn’t meant to.”

The older boy is now in sweatpants and a much too large threadbare T-shirt that slips over one of his shoulders. His hair is damp, though towel dried so it doesn’t drip or stick to his forehead. It’s probably still a little tacky from product, but it’s natural again and he’s barefaced, features softer without the makeup. This is obviously a more domestic look. Jungkook prefers this over body harness ice prince Jimin.

“Really?” Jimin laughs breathily, holding his stomach and looking up at Jungkook like an injured puppy. “No, Kookie, I thought you tried to kill me on purpose.”

It takes a few seconds for the sarcasm to register, at which point Jungkook quiets the ensuing stream of apologies and scrunches his nose in a pout.

“Aw don’t be like that,” Jimin says. “I’m the one who almost died.”

Jungkook continues to pout dramatically, now leaning against the door with his nose to the wood. Jimin coos, gently trying to pry the younger boy away from the wooden barrier, hands on his shoulders.

“Kookie…”

He simply (fake) sniffles.

“C’mon you love me,” Jimin is giggling, still weakly tugging on him. “Let’s hug and make up.”

“No.”

“Yes.”

“No.”

“Yes.”

“Fine.”

Jimin squeals quietly as Jungkook allows him to pull his larger body away from the door and envelop him in a tight hug. It’s everything Jungkook wishes he could have on a regular basis. Soft, affectionate, strong. As Jungkook turns to accommodate Jimin and wrap his arms around the older boy, he can’t help thinking that Jimin fits perfectly in his arms, chin hooking over Jungkook’s shoulder, their bodies melding together to fill the cracks.

But it’s the wrong kind of perfect. Two things that aren’t meant to fit, like a coin in a ring, baby carrots in a battery slot, or a tennis ball inside of a drainage pipe. He doesn’t know what to make of it.

—

Jimin gives Jungkook a playful squeeze, smothering giggles into the younger boy’s chest as his body naturally lets out a huff with the sudden added pressure. It’s cute. Such a big boy, but so quiet and gentle.

He won’t lie, it’s nice hugging Jungkook. He represents an area of safety to Jimin, the cause of no pain except the slow boiling guilt inside him, but that’s omnipresent anyway. Jungkook wouldn’t hurt him, won’t let anyone else hurt him either. He’s a source of comfort and warmth, two things Jimin doesn’t often get to experience without giving something of himself away.

“So you never answered my question,” Jimin says, pulling back to look up at him without the danger of them being close enough to kiss. “What were you listening to?”

“Nothing too interesting. Yoongi’s here.”

“He is?”

“Yeah. Wanna get something to eat?”

Jimin nods and lets go, slowly taking a step back. He can still feel the ghost of the dull ache and sharp bite of the leather on his skin, especially around his groin. It’s hard to find full body harnesses for men that are pretty. So yeah, sometimes he has to resort to strangely fitting female attire, which often leaves his genitalia in uncomfortable situations. But that will all fade by tomorrow evening. For now, he’ll enjoy the feeling of a job well done.

They exit the room with polite greetings to Taehyung and Yoongi before Jimin leads the way to the kitchen where they heat up leftovers. He slides the bowls across the island countertop, placing one in front of Jungkook and the other in front of the empty seat beside him.

As Jimin is getting the spoons, Hoseok and Seokjin walk into the apartment, the former chattering on as usual about Ms. Piper, who apparently sent back her food four times today, refusing to eat until— and pardon Jimin for not listening intently— something about a rice dish.

He takes a seat next to Jungkook, handing the younger boy a spoon so they can both start eating.

In his peripherals, Jimin can see Yoongi stand up and approach Seokjin, interrupting the conversation about Ms. Piper. They speak quietly until Yoongi pulls out his phone, handing it to the older boy. Seokjin looks perplexed for a moment before nodding, then walking over to the small dining table behind Jimin, meaning he can no longer see.

He thus loses interest quickly, especially as Hoseok strides over and puts his arms around both his and Jungkook’s shoulders.

“I see you’ve finished with the shoot already huh?”

“Yeah,” Jimin confirms with a smile. “Jungkookie made it nice and easy.”

“That’s great! Our resident photographer is so talented,” Hoseok presses a loud smooch to said photographer’s cheek. “But now that you guys are free, we should totally play a game.”

“That depends on what type of game,” Jimin turns to give him a suggestive smile. “After what happened last time-”

“Okay that wasn’t my fault.”

“Namjoon still had to get stitches,” Jungkook pauses eating for a moment to add helpfully.

Hoseok pouts, backing up to cross his arms over his chest, “Well he should’ve been more careful with the Monopoly pieces.”

“So what game?” Jimin presses with a light laugh.

“How about… truth or dare?”

Jungkook huffs, “Can’t you pick anything less cliched?”

“Well if someone hadn’t pissed Jin off we could still play hide and seek.”

A memory flashes through Jimin’s mind. A park at midnight, dappled with the dim white glow of streetlights and washed in soft silver by the crescent moon. A pond, inky black with blurry edges that gently lap at the paths around it. Worn wooden benches, massive aged trees. Hoseok decked out in glow sticks; Yoongi sitting in a playground plastic tube; Jungkook helping Jimin into a tree; a splash— Namjoon and Seokjin soaking wet.

He smiles.

“Maybe we should try hide and seek again,” Jimin wiggles happily in his seat, bringing the bowl into his lap so he can continue eating as he speaks to Hoseok. “But this time no going near the pond.”

“Yeah okay good idea, but I’m not going to be It first this time,” Hoseok negotiates, hands now on his hips.

“Not It,” Jungkook declares. He finishes his last bite of food before getting up and walking over to the sink.

Jimin perks up, asking, “So you’re gonna play then?”

“I guess.”

“Don’t be so nonchalant, Kook, we all know you’re excited to squeeze into some small space with Jimin,” Hoseok teases.

“No, not doing that again,” Jungkook says over the sound of water hitting the bowl as he rinses it. “He giggles too much.”

“Guilty,” Jimin raises his fork in acknowledgement.

“And if I’m playing, I’m playing to win.”

“Perfect! I’ll go indoctrinate Yoongi and Taehyung.”

“You know we’re like right here? We can hear what you’re saying?” Yoongi says from his seat on the couch.

Hoseok shrugs, “Good, then I don’t have to explain anything.”

“Shameless,” Yoongi huffs, then looks down at his phone again.

“So we’re talking about something like manhunt?” Taehyung’s head tilts.

“What?” both Hoseok and Jimin ask.

“Manhunt it’s… hide and seek. Outside.”

They all stare at each other for a few seconds before Hoseok clears his throat, “Oh, okay yeah. Well, not It.”

Seokjin elects to stay home and there’s no response from Namjoon, so twenty minutes later, Jimin, Jungkook, Hoseok, Taehyung, and Yoongi get out of the car and hop up onto the curb, the latter covered in glow sticks almost to a comical degree, a physical manifestation of the burden that comes with being dubbed “It.”

It’s starting to get cold out at night, which leaves all of them in hoodies or sweatshirts. Jimin thinks it smells like rain, but Hoseok quickly assures him that it wasn’t in the forecast. The park is instead covered in a thick blanket of fog, weighing down heavily on Jimin’s lungs, his visibility disintegrating into a hazy white at about three or four meters. He can’t even see the playground equipment he knows is in the middle of the massive park. This is going to be an interesting game.

“Everyone’s got their phone on, right?” Hoseok asks, checking his own. “Reception okay?”

“I didn’t picture you as the safety buff,” Taehyung teases.

Hoseok snorts, obviously amused, “Well Jin isn’t here to nag us, so someone has to do it.”

As the two of them exchange playful retorts, Jimin pulls out his phone and finds, to his dismay, that he’s only got ten percent left.

“I’m gonna need a hiding buddy,” he inserts quietly, feeling a little guilty. He should’ve at least grabbed a charger or something.

“And it’s not going to be me,” Hoseok puts his hands up in mock surrender as they start walking toward a massive tree that’s marked the starting point for the four games of hide and seek they’ve played here.

Jimin turns to look at Jungkook with a pleading smile, but he just shakes his head. The older boy feels slightly hurt, but he can’t blame Jungkook. Jimin does giggle a lot.

“You can hide with me.”

The offer catches Jimin by surprise and he turns to look at Taehyung, asking with hesitant hopefulness, “Really?”

“Of course. I mean, I’m the only one left anyway,” Taehyung winks, then laughs brightly, voice deep and smooth. “I always like having a partner anyway. Makes things more fun.”

With their past, Jimin hadn’t expected him to offer, but he’s definitely grateful and won’t turn it down.

“Okay cool. Thanks.”

“Great, now that you two are done being sappy, rules?” Yoongi crosses his arms, looking like a disgruntled human incarnation of a yard that was vomited on by too much Christmas cheer, just sans the fluorescent reindeer, candy cane wielding penguins, and uncanny valley Santa Claus.

“Don’t leave the park, don’t go near the pond, and don’t shout for help unless you need it,” Hoseok states effortlessly, as if he’s thought of this extensively.

“Sounds good to me.”

“Alright Yoongi, how long?”

“Forever.”

“Fuck you, you just don’t want to look for us.”

“Caught me red handed.”

“One minute,” Hoseok supplies, then points in a grand, sweeping motion. “Face the tree.”

The oldest boy does as asked, putting his arm up and resting his face in the crook of his elbow. He sounds bored as he starts counting, “One… two… three…”

Hoseok screams and takes off running into the mist, back in the direction of the car. Jimin thinks making noise is not the best idea when you’re trying to be sneaky, but whatever floats his boat. Jungkook jogs away in the opposite direction, strangely quiet for a boy of his size, his footfalls quiet crunches on the wet grass. He might be heading toward the area of dense foliage where he tried to climb and hide in a tree last time.

Jimin turns to look at Taehyung, arching an eyebrow. The other boy shrugs, so Jimin leads the way to the playground. Their pace is quick, but not frantic, sand sticking to shoes as they make their way to the multilayered structure of painted metal and molded plastic. With the fog, it almost looks like a castle in the clouds. They take the stairs up onto the equipment, the bridge squeaking in protest under their weight, causing Jimin to laugh. Taehyung playfully shushes him before they attempt to fit into one of a few tunnels.

Jimin manages to crawl through and climbs another platform to sit in a small tower-like hut at the top of an enclosed slide. There are small slits that allow him to see out, but it’s too dark to see in at night. The perfect place to hide. Besides, if Yoongi gets close, he can just slip into the slide and make sure he’s too big to go all the way down.

Taehyung, on the other hand, decides to stay in the tunnel. He’s on his stomach, back and shoulders dipping just beneath the line of opaque plastic windows. Even if both of them can’t fit into Jimin’s spot, he’s a little disgruntled that Taehyung is so visible. What if he gives away their spot? He takes a moment to remind himself that it’s just a game.

The two boys make eye contact and Taehyung smiles, causing Jimin to unexplainably giggle again. Maybe Taehyung won’t be the one giving away their position. To prevent himself from making any more noise, Jimin turns slightly to look out onto the expanse of fog covered grass. In the distance, he can still hear Yoongi counting, but the excessive water in the air distorts the sound, making it impossible to tell what number he’s on.

When the counting stops, the world becomes eerily silent. All Jimin can hear is the shaky sound of his own forcibly quieted breathing, trapped by his plastic surroundings. Eventually, Jimin spots what looks like a diluted Christmas tree walking around, colors muffled. He has to smother another giggle.

Man, no wonder Jungkook didn’t want to hide together.

“Jimin, do you see him?” Taehyung’s whispered voice sounds like a shout in such a heavy quietness.

“Yeah. He’s not close.”

Maybe minutes pass. Maybe seconds. Taehyung takes out his phone.

“Turn it off,” Jimin whispers sharply, causing Taehyung to drop the device. It clatters loudly against the bottom of the tube, causing both boys to wince and smother surprised laughter into their hands.

The blurry Christmas tree gets closer, which silences them effectively, especially as Yoongi walks out of the mist like something out of a goddamn horror movie… if the monster was covered in a ridiculous amount of glow sticks.

Jimin stills his whole body in anticipation, which naturally means he suddenly needs to pee. Will Taehyung and his terrible hiding spot get them found? Will Jimin giggle at an inopportune time? Will Yoongi zero in on the sound of a phone clattering against—?

He almost jumps out of his skin when Yoongi pauses practically right beneath the slide tower and says, “Found you.”

The only thing that stops him from huffing out a long list of expletives is a curse that beats him to it.

“Fuck.”

“Watch your language,” Yoongi chides.

It’s Jungkook’s light laugh that follows, causing Jimin and Taehyung to exchange a surprised glance. When had he come to the playground equipment?

“What gave me away?” Jungkook asks, amusement plain in his voice.

“Don’t be stupid,” Yoongi huffs and Jimin can only watch as he crawls underneath the structure, into one of the plastic tubes. Jungkook must be sitting inside. “I’ll always find you.”

“I think that was the gayest thing I’ve heard today. And I talked to Jin earlier.”

Jungkook laughs again, a little awkward this time, but Yoongi doesn’t respond.

The younger boy continues, “Did you find anyone else yet?”

“Hobi thinks I don’t know he’s in the car.”

“Isn’t that technically cheating? Since we’re supposed to stay in the park?”

“Tell him that.”

Jimin and Taehyung are staring intensely at each other, the latter’s phone still sitting on the bottom of the tube in which he’s lying, likely not picked up in fear of it making too much noise. Jimin’s heartbeat is pounding in his pulse points, a frantic “what the actual fuck” smile on his face. This has to be like something out of a movie.

“What about Jimin and Taehyung?”

“No idea.”

“So you just made a beeline for me?”

“Yes. Now sell out your friends.”

Suddenly, there’s a confusingly excessive amount of clattering, the sound of items hitting plastic, similar to when Taehyung dropped his phone. It takes a moment for Jimin to realize that it’s all of the glow sticks.

“Hey, you can’t just-”

Jungkook cuts Yoongi off with a laugh, followed by the sound of another short scuffle, more glow sticks colliding with the plastic tube.

“Get off.”

“Make me.”

Jungkook must be on top, pinning Yoongi down. He sounds like he’s having a great time. Yoongi? Not so much. But there’s also fondness hidden in his dry command, an emotion that takes years of knowing Yoongi to find.

“You little shit.”

There’s silence for a few seconds, then the patter of light rain, fading in from a few drops and plateauing at a quiet steady staccato rhythm. It makes the next part harder to hear.

“What’re you…?” Jungkook’s question trails off, seemingly unsure.

“Oblivious brat.”

Yoongi’s voice sounds soft, yet pained. The dozens of thuds that follow precede the older boy crawling out of the tube and back into Jimin’s line of sight. His face looks pink, or maybe that’s just the excessive amount of glow sticks.

“Where are you going?” Jungkook crawls out after him.

“Back to the car.”

“Why?”

“It’s fucking raining?”

“Wait, I think we should talk about it.”

Talk about what? Jimin watches as they leave the playground area, walking on the grass again, Jungkook jogging to catch up to Yoongi’s fast pace.

“Later.”

The rest of the conversation is lost in the rain and fog. Confused, Jimin turns to look at Taehyung, who points to his lips.

“What” Jimin mouths, still clueless.

“Kiss,” is the word Taehyung silently chooses to respond with.

Before Jimin can ask for an explanation, the sound of Taehyung’s phone buzzing causes both boys to startle and Jimin hits his head on the plastic roof above him. He’ll later find out that it’s a text from Hoseok telling everyone to come back to the car because of the weather.

[Next- the link will take you to Ao3]

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theonceoverthinker · 6 years

Text

OUAT 2X19 - Lacey

I don’t know what this episode LACED itself with, but I’m tripping over how good it is!

Read below the cut and find out why!

Press Release

Mr. Gold enlists the aid of David to help him try to jog Belle’s now cursed memories and get her to love him again; and when it is revealed that the magic beans Anton and the dwarves have been harvesting have begun to grow and could possibly transport everybody home, Emma is torn over whether she would want to live in fairytale land or stay in our world. Meanwhile, in the fairytale land that was, Rumplestiltskin forces Belle to accompany him on a hunt to kill a thief, whom she had freed in the name of mercy. General Thoughts - Characters/Stories/Themes and Their Effectiveness Past I love this flashback. We get to see the first chronological bit of good that Belle sees in Rumple, and it feels pretty earned. The structure here is good, showing Rumple reveal more and more of his goodness as it progresses while still not shying away from the more monstrous aspects of his personality. I’ll talk about that shortly, but that is so important to do when making a Rumple centric. And Belle is fantastic here too! While believing that Rumple can change, she’s true to her desire to be a hero and isn’t afraid to dole out vigilante kindness, something she does later on in the series! Present LACEY IS MY QUEEN! Look, I know that she’s little more than a one off in a lot of respects, but fuck it. I love this character. She’s part Valkyrie and part Cruella, a total boozer, but a wickedly fun time, too! Lacey is not just the anti-Belle, but she’s someone so fun and distinct. She drinks and plays pool and listens to rock music and is okay with beating the crap out of people! But what makes her so great in my eyes is how strong she is in her convictions that she’s not Belle and that Rumple has to respect her identity. I just love how she refuses to be projected on!

For as much as I like Emma, I feel because barely any time was dedicated to her subplot regarding returning home (Apart from giving Regina her first inklings of suspicion about the beans, which she could’ve learned through other means, honestly), it would’ve been better off being cut in favor of some DESPERATELY needed Rumple/Neal screen time. That having been said, I liked two and a half of the three scenes that the subplot revolved around for the stellar character interactions. All Encompassing More than anything, I appreciate this episode for how it handles Rumple’s character in both realms. Rumple is a difficult character to do because he cannot nor should be Woobie-fied. Here is a great example: Rumple has a monstrous nature. It’s not one that can’t be overcome and the narrative sets out to show that much, but it, even more than his cane, is his crutch for when he feels like the people in his life let him down. When outside influences of good can’t be depended on for a moral dessert, Rumple will default back to that nature. And when they can (Or at least give him a good ole pep talk), he proves himself capable of taking it down. What works about this episode for me is how that mindset is not framed as a good thing. Rumple’s reliance on his more monstrous nature as a crutch may have earned Lacey’s affections, but that aspect of the ending is not framed positively (Everything from the music to the lighting to the parallels to the past says as much), nor should it. Insights - Stream of Consciousness -The most unrealistic thing about this dream sequence is the fact that Rumple would ever hold a birthday party in his shop. I mean, look at that cake! He wouldn’t be smiling! He’d be grumbling about how frosting was getting all over the counter the whole time! -So Rumple CAN sleep! His bed is comfy! I’m just going to HC that one can either imbue sleep upon themselves with magic or that as one gets more seasoned with the Dark One curse, they can sleep. -This entire bit with Regina and Rumple realizing they’re family just cracks me up! -I really love the set that Regina and Rumple walk through during their conversation. I wish we got to see it more often. The windy path and the red fences make it damn memorable! -I like how Belle has finally accepted that Belle is her name! About time! -”You’ve been locked up long enough.” True dat. -Rumple, that pillow is gonna do fuck all to drown out Belle’s sobbing. She can’t press her head into that! -Rumple, that was a very un-you like way of poofing! -I love Rumple’s flair for the dramatics with that fucking arrow! I love you, you little shit! -”All magic comes with a price, and in your case, dearie, that’s me.” Is it just me, or does that sound like the opening to a Rumple/Robin Hood porno? XD -”I’m sure Mr. Gold will be thrilled.” He will by the end of the episode! XD -”The package.” Well, he certainly does have that, but just call him Hook! -Yes! Whoever is dangerous will matter if you go back to your land! Stop them here first! -Awww! I love seeing Anton! And he’s good at darts! Now I want him to play with Killian! FIC IDEA!!! -Grumpy! Why are you being so mean to Anton! Did you two have a domestic? -Anton is just the sweetest!!!! I just want to give him a huuuuggg! -”After what I did to Cora, I think restoring our land is the best way to mend it.” HOW?! Like, how would that work? Cora would still be dead (not that I believe for a second what you did was wrong, but I get it: guilt) and as Emma pointed out: “DANGER.” -Unngghh. I hate the latter half of this Charming family scene. Snow and David are offering Emma nothing but platitudes (And empty ones) in the face of her very real concerns. -I love Rumple’s pissed off face in the hospital. He looks like he sucked on a lemon. -I love the bartender at the Rabbit Hole! He’s so nice and proud of the joint, but still smart enough to be afraid of Rumple! -Lacey in that blue sleeveless top makes me...feel things. Very gay things. By the way, does Red Lace (Ruby/Lacey) exist? And if not, why not? -Rumple’s biggest act of cruelty is making Belle wear a fucking ball gown for however long it was between when Belle and Rumple first made their deal and when Rumple finally got her another dress. -Belle is such a BAMF with how she saves Robin Hood? -”I’m sorry. Do I look like a one-handed pirate with a pistol?” No, but you would ROCK that look! -Okay, the more I hear Regina talk about Neal, the more I want Rumple and Neal to CONVERSE! Like seriously! It’s been three episodes at this point! -SHEEP BROOOOOOOOSSSS!!! -I gotta say, I don’t appreciate the Lacey shaming, Rumple. -”David Nolan still won Mary Margaret’s heart.” No, he didn’t! -”Overpraised lasagna.” I take back what I said earlier: THIS is your biggest act of cruelty, Rumple! -”Someone who’d have killed all of you.” THANK YOU, RUMPLE! -”If you do, for the first time ever, I’m gonna owe you a favor.” DO IT!!! Like, pun intended, that is an offer good as Gold! XD -Gotta admire Belle’s poker face as Rumple prepares to torture Robin! XD -Jeez! Way to make Rumple sound like Gaston with her schtick about books! -”People who steal magic never have good intentions.” Speaking from experience or something, Rum Rum? -Rumple, you’re at a 10 and you need to come down to like an 8, okay? Cool. -I love Lacey listing off all of these bands and I completely HC that Weaver rocks out to ALL of them! -You can just see the cogs in Lacey’s brain twirl as she decides to give his suit-claden square a chance! XD -”Don Juan was nothing before he made a deal with me.” Rumple is basically the Hitch of the OUAT world! XD - I love how Emma is trying so damned hard to get along with Regina while also not losing the bite in her that someone would have after Regina and Cora tried killing her family. -I fucking love Lacey! She knows she on a date with the richest guy in town and she is gonna string him along for every fucking cent! XD Chicken parm and white wine? Hell yeah! -Lacey, stay forever! Like, I want Belle to take that serum so we can keep Lacey because she is just amazing! What a personality! What a funny and dark woman! -”I see a man who wouldn’t hurt anyone.” Rumple...you are something special, man. Warped, but special. -Lacey, I know you’re about to ditch, but at least glug some of that GIANT ASS glass of free wine you just got! Like, for fucking real! -Thank you, Rumple for finally giving Belle a dress she can conceivably move in! -”What would people think if I spared the life of someone who stole from me?” Considering you tortured him for a short while and the only reason he escaped was because of a third party, they’d probably still be pretty scared! -Belle ROCKS those gloves! -Sheriff, quit while you’re ahead! -Marian!!!! Hi!!!! -Honestly, Rumple, you’d be better off if Robin didn’t die. Then TWO people could ward off people from breaking deals with you. -”You are not the kind of man to leave a child fatherless.” As @onceuponatimeihadalife pointed out, you can see how these words affect Rumple. He’s reminded of both the prophecy he got from the Seer AND how Bae was left fatherless by his and Milah’s actions. It’s such a cleverly written show of Rumple’s other soft spot and how Belle on some level gets Rumple, even this early in their time together. -”She may have loved you, but I am not her.” LACEY FUCKING ROCKS MY SOCKS! I love how adamant Lacey is about her own identity! She forces Rumple to understand that she won’t be pushed into being someone she isn’t just to be his manic pixie dream girl, and that loudness is just fantastic. -”New guy always buys.” With what money?! -Ooh! I love that tracing magic Regina uses! It not only looks pretty, but is such a smart move on her part! -I feel bad for Keith. The one time he’s not the worst, he gets beat up for it. -Seeing Neal carry Henry is both funny and adorable! -Awwww! August and Henry are buddies!!! -Killian’s baccccck!!! And in fully bondage (I’m willing to bet @killian-whump appreciates that)!!! Arcs - How are These Storylines Progressing? The Storybrooke Citizens Going Home - This arc honestly hasn’t left much of an impression on me. I’d say it was due to lack of suspense, but even on this go around, I’ve found arcs that I knew the ending of to still be thrilling. This one, less so. It’s barely been brought up, and in this episode, we’ve barely seen Emma take the time to really go into greater details about her...dil-EMMA! And I don’t get everyone’s hurry to get out of town because there’s just as much danger back in the Enchanted Forest, even without Rumple and Regina (And even still, they could totally get there, let’s not fool ourselves). Rumple getting back to his son - I’m kind of frustrated that it’s been THREE episodes since Rumple and Neal spoke to each other in a scene. THREE. Rumple spent a century trying to get back to his son. I feel like he should be all but hounding Neal to spend time together. I want to see the payoff to this passion that drove Rumple to create (or at the very least steal) a curse that would screw over an entire land! Even just a one off acknowledgement of him trying to see Neal would be great! But no! Favorite Dynamic Sheep Bros. Not much to say here, but David and Rumple have a great rapport and seeing David help Rumple woo (or seemingly woo) Lacey is just funny! Josh and Robert have great chemistry and seeing Rumple and David’s personalities clash is a real treat! Writer Adam and Eddy have really had a terrific season! They’ve landed several astounding episodes, and I’m happy to say that this is another! There’s a very careful balance with character depiction and storytelling balance on display in this episode. Rumple and Lacey’s characters are handled so delicately. With Rumple, I like how there is no ambiguity of the fact that his morality can change on a dime. He has the power over how he conducts himself, and he very much values gratification for his efforts and will change his tune should things not work out in his favor. With Lacey, A&E went a long way to ensure that Lacey was someone who was annoying to Rumple, but not to the audience. She’s funny and the sheer fact of how much of an opposite to Belle she is just makes for an engaging ride! I did however not enjoy some of the dialogue. To me, some of the lines were either deceptive of character traits or a little heavy on platitudes. Culture I have thoughts on exactly who Lacey is as a character, mostly in regard to whether or not she is Belle’s true cursed form. I personally don’t think Lacey is Belle’s true cursed form, and I come to that conclusion based on not only pre-Regina instances of her cursed self, but the cursed selves of others. First, let’s talk about Belle post-memory wipe. If you recall, Sneezy had a memory wipe too, but he strictly reverted to his original cursed version. In the same manner, so did Belle. And when we finally got some extended scenes with her, we see she’s nothing like Lacey. While pretty panicked due to all the magical stuff and the car accident and all, she’s more or less pretty similar to her real self. Just listen to Belle’s kindness when Rumple talks to her early on in this episode at the hospital. Those words could’ve so come out of Belle’s mouth just as easily. She’s all set out to help Rumple aspire to be good and even shows him some real kindness again!

That brings me to my second point. When we look at the cursed Storybrooke characters like Snow, Charming, Ruby, and Grumpy in comparison to their real selves, there’s so such dramatic deviation the likes of Belle and Lacey. Their personalities chime much closer to home with maybe one or two differing qualities (Ex. Snow’s missing her bravery as MM, Charming’s missing his sense of honor as cursed David). This holds true for Belle’s memory wiped self pre-Regina far more than post-Regina.

So what does that make Lacey? IMHO, a corruption -- possibly even a reset. Regina clearly magicifies that matchbox to give Belle false memories, and the ensuing personality is something that is only made to screw over Rumple. In the past, Regina didn’t put much effort into Belle’s cursed form because as far as she knew, Rumple would never discover her. However, now that she’s about to be a player in Rumple’s life, Regina decides to stop her influence. I mean, I know Rumple claims they’re her “cursed” memories, but I don’t know, it just doesn’t seem right to me.

At the same time though, as I was writing this, I had a great conversation with @mrs-stiltskin where she pointed out that Belle’s relatively tamer pre-Regina cursed personality was more of a result of being a blank slate and Lacey was the actual creation of a personality, and that’s an interpretation that I also readily accept, AND it supports Rumple and Regina’s words too! Rating Golden Apple. What more can I even say? The story and its execution are fantastic. A&E balanced Rumple and Lacey like fucking katana swords. It’s a charming story (pun always intended) that’s pretty freakin’ funny when it needs to be while also being emotionally satisfying. Even the stuff I didn’t like gave way to some good scenes and I only disliked them because there was more that I wanted to see (*cough* RUMPLE AND NEAL *cough*). Flip My Ship - Home of All Things “Shippy Goodness” Rumbelle - The past has some pretty good Rumbelle. For one thing, I love how Rumple stumbles over trying to explain why he didn’t kill Belle. Suuuuuure, Rumple. Also, you gotta love how Rumple gives the Sheriff of Nottingham the most well deserved punishment ever for attempting to trade Belle like cattle! XD Also, that hug post-sparing was just ADORABLE!!! Finally, the library scene shows the first inklings of Rumple falling in love with Belle as their themes merge and the thematically binding line of the episode is spoken. AND before we go into Golden Lace territory, let’s talk about some present Rumbelle. Just look at Belle’s face and voice when Rumple appears in the hospital alive! She’s so happy!!! And it’s so nice how now that they’re able to talk, Belle can connect with Rumple so much more easily. Finally, I really like how angry Rumple gets at Regina for forcing Belle to revert to her cursed self. Golden Lace - Rumple is trying so freakin’ hard to impress Lacey and it’s adorable! Look at him tripping over himself as he tries to hold the menu at Granny’s! It’s honestly adorable! And Lacey couldn’t be more thirsty for Rumple’s darkness if she was locked in fucking Care-a-lot for a year beforehand! I love this bit of ANOTHER villain ship!!! Swanfire - Emma and Neal only get two minutes together, but they take full advantage of it! I like how Emma and Neal, while not fully knowledgeable of the other’s situation, are able to understand each other. And they have some nice chemistry! Aww! And Neal believes in Emma’s ability to figure the truth of August’s message out! ()()()()()()()()() What a great episode!!!! Thank you for reading my review and to the fabulous folks at @watchingfairytales! Btw, after exactly one vote (Thanks, Sarah!), I have decided to combine the finale review! It’s gonna be a LONG one!

Next time, while Lacey may be my queen, there’s another one just waiting to be in the spotlight once more. See you guys then! Season 2 Tally (157/220) Writer Tally for Season 2: Adam Horowitz and Edward Kitsis: (50/60) Jane Espenson (35/50) Andrew Chambliss and Ian Goldberg (31/50) David Goodman (24/30)* Robert Hull (24/30)* Christine Boylan (17/30) Kalinda Vazquez (28/30)* Daniel Thomsen (18/20)* * Indicates that their work for the season is complete

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