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ro-is-struggling · 1 year

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Touch || Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: Bucky was not a fan of physical contact, that was something you knew about him even before you started dating him. What you didn't know was how incredibly touch starved he was. That is until one lazy Sunday afternoon, when you take your relationship to the next level.

Word count: 4300

Warnings: SMUT MINORS DNI, porn with feelings, dry humping, overstimulation, kinda sub!bucky x gentle dom!reader, touch starved bucky, a little angst (it’s bucky duh), fluff

English is not my first language

Notes: This is a continuation of THIS little thing that I posted the other day, but you don't have to read it to understand the story.

Bucky was not someone who enjoyed a lot of physical contact, that was a fact about him that you found out pretty quickly. You just had to see the way he interacted with his friends and the people around him to notice that he didn't really like to be touched, especially by strangers. You'd seen him jump and flinch at the slightest brush of someone's body making their way through the busiest nights at the bar, so you kept that in mind when you had your first date. It didn't really matter to you that he didn't even hold your hand or kiss you at the end of the date, you had such a good time with him that you didn't even think about it.

Besides, that only made things more interesting. Not knowing when he was going to kiss you —or if he was even going to kiss you at all— kept you on your toes, butterflies fluttering in your stomach every time you looked into each other's eyes. The tension only increased with each date and all that build up made your first kiss magical. There were no words to describe how you felt the moment his lips finally met yours. It was a shy, experimental kiss, your lips brushing delicately as you explored this new feeling. Bucky rested his hand on your cheek to draw you closer to him, the touch of his fingers awakening a tingle on your skin. It was almost hard to believe that someone as big and strong as him was capable of such gentleness, but that was what made the moment so special.

There was definitely a spark between you, a connection you had never felt with anyone before. So you didn't care that it had taken Bucky longer than usual to kiss you, you were willing to wait as long as it took to feel that electricity that only he seemed to be able to awaken coursing through your body. Bucky made it all worth it.

You usually let him initiate the physical contact. You didn't want to end up accidentally stepping over his boundaries, so beyond a few kisses and hugs you used to let him decide when he wanted to hold your hand or cuddle up on the couch to watch a movie. You didn't mind the lack of physical contact, it didn't affect your relationship in the slightest. It wasn't like that was the only way to show affection. You didn't have to doubt if Bucky really loved you or if your relationship had a future because he always found other ways to show you how he felt about you.

He may not be very good at expressing his feelings in a physical way, but he had a special talent for expressing in words and beautiful metaphors the love he felt for you, confessions that were immortalized in the love letters he often sent you. The nature of his work required him to spend weeks and sometimes even months away from you, and he would take advantage of those moments alone to reflect on his feelings and pour them out on paper, expressing in neat handwriting the thoughts that were running through his head. You still talked on the phone and texted each other all the time, but there was something so intimate and personal about handwritten love letters that he refused to let them die, forgotten in the past.

Bucky also expressed his love through acts of service, dropping everything he was doing to come to your aid whenever you were in the slightest inconvenience. And he also loved sharing quality time with you, whether it was planning a romantic evening or just staying by your side while the two of you did nothing on a lazy Sunday afternoon. Those were all acts that undoubtedly proved to you that Bucky loved you, so you really didn't mind the lack of physical displays of affection. The love you shared was much purer and more intense than any of your past relationships, so who cared if you weren't holding hands all the time when your chest exploded with love every time you saw him.

You learned very quickly that Bucky Barnes had a different love language than most of the other people you had dated, and you were more than okay with it. You never asked him about it because you honestly didn't think there was a reason behind it. People love in different ways, some are more vocal and physical about it and some are more quiet and reserved, but that doesn't mean they are any more or less valid. All different ways of showing love are valid and you always assumed that Bucky was naturally a person who didn't enjoy excessive physical contact because of the way he sometimes flinched and squirmed when your hands caressed his skin for too long. But your perspective on Bucky's loving ways changed one Sunday afternoon.

You were lying on the couch watching a movie in your apartment. You were comfortably settled on the right end, your arm resting on the armrest and your legs stretched out on the coffee table. You had a pillow in your lap and on it rested Bucky's head, who was lying on his side so he could get a good view of the TV. The sunset light coming through the window illuminated his face in a special way, highlighting every detail you loved about him. The movie faded into the background as you lost yourself in the adorable image of your boyfriend resting on your lap. He looked so peaceful that if it weren't for the soft giggles he let out from time to time you would think he was asleep. It was rare to see him like that, with his features so relaxed, and you loved him.

Bucky's long chestnut hair rested messily on the cushion. A stray strand fell over his face, hiding part of his beautiful features from your eyes. Without realizing what you were doing you reached your hand out to brush it away, tucking the rebellious strand of hair behind his ear so you could admire him better. Bucky closed his eyes for a moment when your fingertips brushed the skin on his temple, but said nothing. So you let your hand wander through his hair a little longer while you lost yourself in his beauty and the love you felt for him. Your fingers stroked his hair gently, your nails lightly scraping his scalp.

Bucky closed his eyes again, only this time he didn't realize he had done so. His body stopped responding to his brain's commands, momentarily losing himself in your gentle touches. He was instantly overwhelmed by the delicate movement of your fingers. It had been so long since he had last been in such an intimate situation that his body did not know how to react. His brain stopped working every time you touched him and this was no exception. When you pulled a strand of his hair with a little more force than usual —accidentally or not, he didn't know—, Bucky let out a pathetic whimper, electricity coursing through his body and awakening a flame inside him that he thought had been extinguished.

But then he came back to his senses. His brain regained control over his body and forced him to jump up and away from you before something went wrong.

"Bucky, I'm sorry I didn't mean to..." you rushed to apologize, fearing you had crossed his boundaries regarding physical contact without realizing it. You should have been more careful, you should have asked him if it didn't bother him before touching him.

It broke Bucky's heart to see the guilt and fear in your eyes, especially knowing that it was all his fault and not yours. You were nothing but loving and patient with him, never pressuring him for anything and creating a safe space where he could relax and let loose without fear. "No, no, it's okay," he tried to reassure you. "It's not you, it's me. I'm the problem, doll."

"No, Bucky, don't say that," you said, moving closer to him. You reached out to touch him, there was nothing you wanted to do more than hold his hand and kiss him until his sad expression changed. But at the last second you realized that wouldn't be a good idea so you dropped it in your lap once more.

"But it's true," he insisted. "You did nothing wrong, it's just that... it's hard for me. I haven't been this close, this intimate, with anyone in a long time and it's kinda overwhelming," he revealed, surprising you. In all this time it never occurred to you that this could be the reason for his problem with physical contact.

"It's okay, Buck. We don't have to do anything if you don't want to. I'm more than fine with the way things are right now between us."

"But that's the thing," he sighed, adjusting his posture so he could look you in the eyes. "I like it when you touch me, when you kiss me and you hold me while we watch a movie. It makes me feel good... it makes me feel loved. But then I get overwhelmed and I- I don't know, I just can't do it," he muttered in frustration, not quite sure how to explain to you that he had spent the last few months of his life trying to train his brain to stop associating physical contact with the horrors he had experienced with Hydra.

"We don't have to do anything you're not comfortable with," you spoke in a soft tone. "I'm happy with our relationship the way it is right now. I love you, Bucky, and I would never pressure you into anything."

"I know, doll. You've been nothing but kind and understanding. I just wish I could give you more."

"We can take things slow. There's no need to rush into anything, baby." you said, moving a little closer to him until your leg brushed his. "I can still hold you and kiss you and touch you... you don't have to run from me, Bucky. We can take our time to test your boundaries and get you used to intimacy again, if you want that, of course."

Bucky would be lying if he said your words didn't sound tempting. There was nothing he loved more than feeling your hands on his body, the taste of your lips on his mouth and the warmth of your skin against his. He avoided physical contact not because he didn't like it but because he enjoyed it too much and his brain was not yet ready to process what your touch made him feel. He was easily overwhelmed by your touch, every little brush of your fingers awakened a tingle inside him and a flame deep in his stomach. He would lose the ability to think coherently when you held him and sometimes he could feel tears forming in his eyes when you held his hand as you walked down the street. The idea of someone loving him without fear or regret was something that filled his chest with joy and frightened him in equal proportions. A part of him still had trouble understanding that someone was capable of loving him like that.

"Do you trust me?" you asked as you read the doubt in his eyes. Bucky nodded, shaking his head slightly without a second thought. "I need you to use your words, baby."

"Yes, doll, I trust you" he assured you firmly, putting a warm smile on your lips.

"Can I kiss you?" you murmured, your voice barely a whisper.

"Please," Bucky begged and that was all the confirmation you needed to take his face in your hands and press your lips together.

It was a slow kiss, your lips gently caressing his in an attempt to calm his nerves. You felt him relax under your touch, surrendering to the warm tingle that ran through his body each time you kissed him. He let you guide him, his body responding to your movements without protest. When he felt your tongue caress his lips he parted them, granting you permission to attack his mouth.

Everything became a blur after that. He could feel your lips on his, your hands caressing his skin, the warmth of your body enveloping him completely, but it was too much for his poor brain to process. He was limited to feel, to move and act following his most primitive instincts while the flame inside him only grew.

"Is this okay?" you asked him, pulling away from his lips to speak. Only then did Bucky realize that you were now sitting on his lap, trapping his body between your legs.

"Yes," he managed to say between ragged breaths. But you didn't give him much of a break, attacking his lips once more before trailing your kisses down his jaw to his neck.

Bucky closed his eyes instinctively, losing himself in the tingling that the brush of your lips on his skin awakened inside him. His hands traveled to your hips, his fingers clinging to you as a way to keep himself grounded. It was pathetic, utterly ridiculous, that a man his age would melt at the slightest touch of your lips on his body, but he couldn't help it. It had been so long since he had last experienced such intimacy with someone that it was like it was his first time all over again. And in a way it was. The old innocent and confident Bucky had died that cold day falling off that train and for over 70 years he had been forced to live as something else, an entity with no voice or conscience damned to obey orders. He had been changed by that experience and when he was freed from his chains a completely different man from the one he used to be emerged. A man who had to adapt to a different world than the one he was used to and who had to train his brain to stop responding to old patterns. So in a way it was like being born again, at least that's how he had felt the day the trigger words stopped working on him. And that's how he felt with you sitting on his lap, your lips sucking on his neck while your hands explored his body.

Bucky felt like he was in heaven, flying through the clouds as a euphoric feeling filled his insides. He hadn't really realized how much he missed that kind of intimacy until that moment. He was desperate to feel more of you, reduced to a whimpering, moaning mess every time your lips brushed his soft spots or when your hands disappeared into his hair, delicately tugging at the chestnut strands. He let out the most pathetic whimper as your core made contact with his growing erection, your hips rolling sensually as you gently nibbled the skin of his neck. He tightened his grip on your waist, to stop you or to pull you closer to him, he wasn't sure.

The sounds that escaped his lips were like music to your ears, a sweet melody that coursed through your body and made your core throb. It had not been your intention to rub against him in that way, it was a subconscious act of your body, desperate to find some relief from the pressure that was forming in the pit of your stomach. But now that you had done it and Bucky seemed to respond positively to it, you continued to do it, finding a slow, sensual rhythm that would bring you both to the edge of pleasure.

You two were fully clothed, yet there was something so erotic about what you were doing. To have a man like Bucky, so tall, serious and imposing, turned into a moaning, panting mess beneath you ignited a flame in you, a sensation you had never experienced before. You could feel your wetness staining your underwear as you admired the pleasure in Bucky's expression-his eyes closed, eyebrows slightly furrowed and parted lips letting out an endless stream of whimpers. But there was also something in the way he seemed to be giving himself completely to you that filled your heart with joy. He trusted you for this. He trusted you to take care of him. He trusted the safe environment you had created for him. He knew he could let his guard down when he was with you, allow himself to experience that kind of closeness, that kind of intimacy, without fear of rejection or embarrassment. He loved you and that was the most important thing of all.

"Wait!" Bucky suddenly exclaimed between shaky breaths. He tightened his grip on your hips, but this time it was to stop you before it was too late. "I- I don't think I can..." he trailed off, unsure of how to finish the sentence. He didn't want to disappoint you, but he also didn't want to admit out loud that he's had trouble bringing himself to orgasm. It's not like he didn't want to, he was desperate to feel that sweet relief, but he just couldn't. He tried to pleasure himself several times in the past and generally everything went well until his climax started to approach, then the pleasure became too much. His mind is unable to relax, to let go of the sensations, and it all ended abruptly, leaving him tense and frustrated —even more so than usual.

"It's okay, baby. I'm here for you," you said in a soft, sensual voice, your fingers delicately stroking his hair. "Let me help you." You didn't move until you had confirmation that this was what he wanted, leaving it up to him to decide how to proceed. When he nodded his head slightly you gave him a quick kiss on the lips before continuing your movements.

"That's it, baby. Let go for me," you purred against his ear as Bucky began to move beneath you, thrusting his hips upward to match you.

You quickly found a rhythm that worked for both of you, each little brush of your bodies pushing you ever closer to the edge. Bucky's moans were almost uncontrollable as he held you close to his body, his hands never leaving your hips, pressing you against his bulge. It was too much, the heat coursing through his body, the pressure building in his stomach, the racing of his heart... he felt like he was going to explode. And yet, he didn't want the moment to end. He was desperate for relief, but at the same time he would live forever in that moment if he could. Nothing compared to the feeling of having you so close to him, moaning his name as you held him.

“You like that, baby?” you asked after Bucky let out a particularly loud whine. “You like it when I bite your neck?”

“Yes! Yes, f-fuck… please,” he muttered incoherently. He didn't even know why he was begging, the plea escaping his lips before he could stop himself.

“Does it feel good? Yeah?”

“So good, doll… so fucking good.” Bucky was struggling to respond in coherent sentences, his pleasure-clouded brain too distracted to function properly. “You’re so good to me, doll…so, so g-good. Please don’t stop.”

“I won’t, baby. I won’t." You reassured him between ragged breaths. You increased the pace, seeking your relief as much as his. With one hand you held onto Bucky's shoulder for support while your other hand traveled to his cheek. Your fingers tenderly stroked the soft skin of his face, a delicate action that contrasted with the desperation of the movements of your hips. Bucky accepted the touch gladly, leaning into your hand as he felt the world around him collapse.

"God, you're so pretty like this, all needy and desperate for my touch… my pretty boy." The words left your lips before you realized it. You didn't even know where they had come from, it was the first time you had uttered something like that in such an intimate moment. But it felt natural and Bucky seemed to like it judging by the way his member twitched in his pants. He let out a whimper that sounded almost like a cry and you knew then that he wouldn't last much longer. "Are you close, baby? You gonna cum for me?"

"Yes! Oh god, yes! Please, I'm so close… don't stop… feels so good… please." Bucky was on the verge of tears, the pleasure overwhelming him completely. He felt like he was on fire, his whole body tensing with anticipation. It was too much and yet too little. He wanted to stop, but at the same time he would cry if you took the heat from your center away from him. His brain was fried, pleasure clouding his thoughts completely.

"That's it, baby, cum for me. I wanna feel you coming undone underneath me. I wanna see your pretty face screw up in pleasure when you cum. C'mon baby, let go for me." You encouraged him, lowering your lips to his neck to kiss and nibble on his soft spots. You were close to your orgasm too, your clitoris throbbing desperately and your core clenching around nothing with every thrust of your hips. Your underwear was completely ruined, soaked with the wetness of your arousal. You were pretty sure Bucky could feel it through his thin sweatpants that sported a dark stain where your bodies met, your arousal and Bucky's mingling in the light gray fabric. But even though you were desperate for some relief you were holding back. This was supposed to be about Bucky and you wanted him to cum first.

"Oh f-fuck, I-" he tried to warn you, but his sentence was cut off by the overwhelming force of his orgasm. The knot in his stomach snapped, triggering an electric rush that coursed through his body from head to toe. He pressed your hot center against his erection, holding you in place as rope after rope of cum stained his underwear.

"That's it baby… so good to me, such a good boy," You murmured against his ear as you moved your hips slowly, riding him through his orgasm as you chased yours. He was a mess beneath you, his whole body convulsing from overstimulation. Yet his member was still hard between your legs, throbbing with desperation as if Bucky hadn't just had one of the best orgasms of his life.

"It's… it's too much, f-fuck, I-I can't." Bucky tried to speak, struggling to catch his breath and recover his cognitive abilities. He had never experienced anything similar before. He was still flying high from his first orgasm and could already feel a second forming in the pit of his stomach. He was painfully hard and overstimulated, his cock still dripping cum adding to the sticky mess that was in his boxers. He couldn't stop. He didn't want to stop. He wondered if his current condition had anything to do with the years he had gone without any kind of sexual activity, or if it was simply the effect you had on him. He guessed it was a little of both.

"Are you gonna cum for me again?" you asked him between moans, feeling the knot in your stomach tighten with each brush of your clothed core over his bulge. "Fuck, that's so hot, baby. Cum with me, please. I'm so close, baby. I want to feel you cum with me, please." You begged him, your voice broken with pleasure. You gave him a quick, sloppy kiss, all teeth and tongue as you chased your orgasm. When you broke away you rested your forehead on Bucky's, looking into his eyes as the world around you collapsed, wave after wave of pleasure coursing through your body as your orgasm overwhelmed your senses.

Seeing your face screwed up in pleasure pushed Bucky over the edge again, his second orgasm leaving him completely ruined and unable to move underneath you. His cock throbbed between his legs as he released rope after rope of cum, creating a bigger mess of sticky fluid in his pants. He had never cum so hard or so intensely before, but he'd be lying if he said that wasn't exactly what he needed.

You collapsed onto Bucky's chest, hiding your face in his neck as you both struggled to catch your breath. You stayed in that position for a few minutes, the sound of the movie playing in the background the only thing you could hear in the room besides your accelerated breathing.

"How do you feel?" you mumbled against the skin of his neck, curious to know if the experience had been as wonderful for him as it had been for you.

"Great. I feel great," he replied, struggling to form a coherent sentence. "That was..." he trailed off, unsure of how to describe what he felt.

"I know," you assured him with a chuckle, placing a sweet kiss on the skin of his neck. Bucky smiled, wrapping his arms around your body to draw you closer to him. He used his flesh hand to caress your back, tracing imaginary shapes with his fingers as he enjoyed the way the warmth of your body enveloped him.

"How do you feel?" he wanted to know.

"Awesome," you smiled. " Although I need a shower," you added, moving to get up from your spot. But before you could pull away, Bucky tightened his grip on you, trapping you between his chest and arms.

"Later," he said. "I want to stay like this for a little while longer." You smiled, settling into his arms as you inhaled the scent of his cologne. Bucky really was the man of your dreams and you would forever be grateful to fate for having crossed your path.

“I love you,” you told him as you traced imaginary figures on his chest with your fingers, losing yourself in the warmth of his body.

“I love you too, doll.”

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x fem reader #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes x reader smut #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes angst #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes #marvel imagines

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suguru-getos · 8 months

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୨・┈﹕✦﹕ Kinktober Day 10﹕✦﹕┈・୧

gojo satoru x f!reader -> hate sex

event masterlist

summary: you were the second strongest sorcerer to exist, always having tosses and turns against gojo satoru until the latter just sees you losing yourself to powers a little and decides to transform your ‘pulling each other’s leg’ relationship into something more.

warnings: roasting, both us and satoru are just talking shit about each other. <3 semi-public sex, talking about curses and cursed energy, implied degradation. dub!con-> consentual but not specifically talked about. lemme know if i missed anything (not beta’d we die like suguru) :(

a/n: guys i got carried awayyyyy lmaooo 😭 i was too busy giving this a build up tbh i wanted to make this a chapterwise slow burn story instead so i wasnt even wanting to let them fuck kekeke 🤭 i hope yall enjoy it mwah 💋

there was one thing which had been thoroughly consistent in your career as a sorcerer, which was satoru gojo’s intervention. despite trying your hardest, he would manifest himself near you in some form or the other. it also made sense since he was basically the god of the sorcerer community with powers and roots of his clan spreading across. the solo head of the gojo family, their fortunes, the strongest, arrogant — pathetically cocky man that lumes his presence near you more times than you’d like it to.

“the brat has eaten a finger, i don’t see the point of not exorcising and killing him.” one of the higher ups commented in the meeting where all the sorcerers were invited, even the scarce special grades. “i don’t see why he should be killed? sukuna’s vessel is something we can take advantage of. we can ensure the curse dies when he has swallowed all of the fingers.” gojo commented back, it was not something anyone could deny or go against. his tone was a threat enough.

you could agree to this, but not having tried something like this makes you antsy. “and who will take responsibility?” you raised a brow. glancing at the blind-folded man who was smirking with ease. “why me of course. unless— you wanna be a disappointment and try this yourself.”

in the jujutsu community, you were a well established prodigy, second to only gojo satoru. stronger than yuuta, stronger than any of them. but still— ‘second to gojo satoru’ oh well, that comment had a hard burn. you wouldn’t back down either.

“nah, being a nanny suits you. i haven’t forgotten the brat from the zenin clan after all.” gojo hated when anyone brought up what megumi’s fate could be… but you couldn’t care less. that’d shut him up.

“come on, don’t be like that y/n chan! you don’t have an ounce of motherly instincts. do the world a favor and don’t have kids.” he chuckled, murmuring under his breath. “not that you’d get a chance to with a face like that.”

the people in the meeting were stunned, they were usually quite used to the fact that you and satoru throw jabs at each other at any moment necessary. “do us a favor too. stop making any woman you see a mother and tone the thirst down? the last thing i wanna see is more of you because you couldn’t keep it in your pants.”

“SILENCE!” the higher ups roared, and satoru giggled, leaning back against the wall. this could continue down further. but this isn’t the right time. you rolled your eyes again. ah well, if he is willing to take the responsibility it is all good.

when the meeting ended, you were the first one to leave. meetings with the higher ups were always draining. more than the actual curses. your powers were the complete opposite of satoru. you could absorb curse energies. like a black hole. radiating them back when needed. that made you go the through insurmountable negativity but it was powerful nonetheless. gojo’s infinity could also pose no problems for you to break into. but satoru gojo had infinite curse energy and you were a sponge. interesting…

“why are your panties in a twist?” satoru asked you, looming in front of you too close. “personal space?” you scoffed, leaning back. “awh, pErSoNaL sPaCe” satoru chuckles, “don’t tell me you really think i don’t see through your false pretentious ass.” he leaned in again, ugh— shameless.

“the problem with you is you think it’s impossible for women to not fall over your dick.” you smiled back, a sarcastic, annoyed smile. “well, it is impossible —” he shrugs, as if it was a matter of fact thing.

you are not dumb, you admit that he is ethereal. he is beautiful & perhaps the prettiest man ever. you’re also too prideful to say it to his face, ever. satoru— does the opposite, he finds you so pretty he can’t act right around you. so he irritates you for your attention.

things went by a swing when you suddenly got a call from ichiji. your conversation with him left discontinued. you were busy with missions & he was busy, mentoring yuuji, megumi & nobara. you knew that there are new first years in tokyo university & the vessel was one of them. gakuganji from kyoto tech: where you worked and reported, asked you to go have a glance, check up on the first years.

you entered the university of jujutsu tokyo, walking towards the ground where maki, panda and the kids were there. you knew satoru was nearby, his curse energy presence is loud & clear. perhaps as a silent way of keeping threats off the campus. “y/n san!” maki smirked, walking towards you and launching the exact attack that you taught her, you smiled, proud. “you have perfected it! wow!”

“salmon.” inumaki hummed, while nobara & yuuji curiously asked megumi about you.

yuuji: who’s she? she’s pretty! naa~ fushiguro?

megumi: that’s y/n. a special grade sorcerer. like gojo sensei.

megumi keeps your introduction brief & curt. “what? so cool! she must be insanely strong! is she stronger than gojo sensei?”

“don’t kid me yuuji kun, no one is stronger than me.” gojo’s voice echoed as he came down the stairs. while you were hearing their conversation too, you didn’t deem it necessary to step in. unlike— someone.

“ah, y/n chan! ohayo!” satoru waved his hand at you, grinning. you smiled back, all fake, “ohayo megumi chan! ohayo yuuji, ohayo nobara!” oh god you make him wanna pin you against the nearest wall and devour you until your sass is gone.

yuuji awkwardly whispers to megumi, “they don’t like each other huh?” megumi whispere back, “not one bit.”

“jaa~ why are you here?” satoru asked, raising a brow and tone turning serious, hinting he meant business. “just you know, wanted to meet the students” you smirked, and even though satoru knows exactly who sent you here, he trusts you enough. “o-kkay!” he grins, teleporting beside you and whispering gravely in your ear. “any reason why you look extra pretty today?” the compliment sent shivers down your spine. “maybe you haven’t gotten laid in a while” you roll your eyes, emboldening your response. no way you’ll be acting coy hmph!

the rest of the day passed by in a haze, where you were talking to yaga and satoru & you were being a nuisance to each other. then…. yuuji’s death happened & you got to know higher ups were behind it. insurmountable rage flew through every single artery of yours as disappointment overtook you. the community was rotten & you know satoru would’ve been adversely affected by the news of yuuji’s death. even so, you didn’t want to pose a bothersome presence when he was necessarily plotting a plan to kill the higher ups.

the next thing was the curses attacking the jujutsu grounds, yuuji was alive & there was a baseball tournament satoru sneakily organized. things seemed alright. only you were busy tracking hanami & mahito. of course you were accompanied by nanami throughout.

the next meet with satoru was coincidental, he was assigned a mission in korea along with you, and you both met at the tokyo airport. “areh~ y/n chan!” he beamed, walking towards you where your lack of reaction concerned him. you had been— a menace these last few months. curses had been falling and you have been absorbing their energies. almost negatively affecting you. “eia~ you stink so bad.” satoru commented again, to which you again, were silent. he hated it, your own energy almost has no scent of it’s own. satoru was famous as the strongest, similarly you were renouned as the merciless sorcerer who has no account for any emotion. when you didn’t reply anymore, satoru glared and decided he can touch you. hands clasping your shoulder, “ayo, talk to me right now.”

you looked at him, “oh, you were saying something? i thought there were was a mosquito buzzing around me. my bad.” you are at least mocking him. he smiles at that, “you know i think what you deserve is to release all that suppressed cursed energy you’ve absorbed.” he was meaner this time, because satoru gojo was showing his care. hands gripping your wrist and pulling you close to him. “and you know the only sorcerer who can take it? me.”

that was satoru’s silent confession, and he thought he was very smug showing no emotion whatsoever to you. but his eyes— shouldn’t have worn glasses. “no thanks, i’ll use it on a special grade.” you replied. there was an immediate frown on satoru’s face. why are you wanting to keep it together so bad! oh he hates you so much- he loves you so much.

the flight to korea was quick & you two got out, taking your way to the nearest jujutsu school. as suspected by satoru, you and him were attacked mid way, and just when satoru was about to attack, they came for you. it all made sense, they want the special grades gone. one by one. “now’s a good time! go on- show me what—” before satoru could complete his sentence, you absorbed them one by one. “NO!” he snarled, why are you not letting the absorbed energy out.

you alone, could manage to defeat everything. except you didn’t feel like you anymore. that’s it. satoru has had enough. he stomped towards you, gritting his teeth and holding your face with a single hand, seething at your puckered lips. “stop this, stop being such a fucking bitch to yourself. can’t you see what’s happening?”

the distance between your lips and his was lessening with every sentence he spoke, and before you could reply, satoru leaned in, stealing a rough, angry and demanding kiss. that— took you off guard. eradicating all your haze and bringing you back to reality. “you need to be shown you can’t do everything alone, that you’re weak.” satoru’s words stung, but what he meant was he wanted you to lean onto him.

making you straddle his waist, to which you complied by wrapping your legs around him as he leaned you against the nearest tree. “do i fucking look like someone you’d fuck just like that.” you squirmed, though it is futile because satoru’s eyes calm you down, ground you. “shut up.” is all he said, leaning in and making his way for the sweet spot on your neck, he takes his time, nibbling and giving your sensitive skin hickeys until you awarded him with a delectable moan. “ah, there is it. didn’t know someone like you could have soft spots.” he smirked, feeling the cursed energy absorbed within you sunken and calm.

“i don’t have it for twigs like you.” you replied back, “and i’d never be one of the numbers in your body count.” satoru smiled at that, “damn, you really do consider me characterless don’t you?” oh thank heavens you wore a dress, his hands wandered off and cupped your clothed cunt, your gasps betraying your words along with the wetness in your body.

“you’re soaking, little one.” satoru cooes, “besides, i might look it but i do have some standards. won’t fuck anyone just for the sake of it.” he reiterated, rubbing your clothed clit and soaking in all your expressions.

“not for you…” your retort was awarded with a punishing pinch on your sensitive bundle of nerves. “you’re so fiesty you know that?” satoru grins, “been dreaming about fucking you since years.” satoru’s sudden honesty was taking you off guard.

“then keep dreaming, asshole.” you absent mindedly grinded against his hands, despite what words might say. “oh no, look at a hypocrite.” he unzipped himself, and knows full well, you could back hand him like an actual twig if you could. infinity was off, satoru was not using any force & yet, you didn’t resist.

eyes lingering against his as satoru leaned in, kissing you roughly, shoving his tongue in & making you cry out at the thrust of his cock balls deep. without giving you any time to recover, he started nailing him deep inside you. the way your body shamelessly moaned, satoru couldn’t help but groan. “look at you, all this power, and yet you can’t help but take me like a submissive little bitch in heat huh?”

“strongest sorcerer in the world & that’s what he dreams of? the opportunity to fuck?” you degraded him back, “like a dog in a rut?” you clicked your tongue, giving into a mewl when his thrusts brushed against your g-spot.

your pussy was clamping around his cock for dear life, and by the looks of it, both you and satoru were close. “i won’t let you cum if you don’t release all that pent up, absorbed curse energy.” satoru snarled, fingers jolting down to rub at your puffy clit.

“shut up; i- need to be prepared for the worst.” you replied back, whimpering out.

“it’s killing the essence of you.” satoru said the usual. but he said it in a way that made your eyes soften. it was clear he does not want that. “do it for this mission, i’ll handle everything.” he replied again, thrusts getting sloppier.

what you could do in return was just nod meekly. you still didn’t agree fully but god you wanted to cum. “gonna cum inside you, don’t be a bitch about it, we’d get you a plan b.” you rolled your eyes, not saying anything and clamping out, hands scratching his undercut as you tipped off the edge.

your orgasm raked through your body, making satoru also whine at the clamping, shooting hot ropes of cum into your womb. “that’s it my little special grade.” he panted heavily, seemingly relaxed.

now that you both did end up fucking, you wanted to avoid him. “nuh uh, don’t do that.” satoru gently pulled out, leaning in and kissing your cheek, kissing all over your face until all your doubts melted. oh satoru will make sure you’ll be alright. even if it means fucking the thoughts out of you. and even if it means hovering around you like a lost puppy until you date him.

#gojo satoru #gojo thirst #gojo smut #jjk thirst #jjk smut #jjk x reader #gojo x reader #jjk x reader smut #gojo x reader smut #gojo x reader thirst #jjk x reader thirst #jjk kinktober #kinktober 2023

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pandorasprongs · 1 year

Text

JAMIE TARTT | if it weren't for second chances, we'd all be alone.

PAIRING: jamie tartt x fem!reader

WORD COUNT: 5.5k

SUMMARY: in order to advance her career, reader has to write a profile about her usual subject of interest: jamie tartt. if he'll let her.

WARNINGS: language

A/N: hello! this is one of my shorter one shots and not much to say about this one, but i hope you all enjoy and the title is from 'second chances' by gregory alan isakov!

"There is no fucking way I'm working with her!" You hear Jamie Tartt say from a distance, as Keeley looks past his shoulder with an apologetic look. You give her a small smile, but let out a long sigh.

You knew doing this wouldn't be easy, but you didn't exactly have a choice. You left your job at the Sun after finally coming to your senses when Trent Crimm left the Independent. If the execs were willing to let go of arguably one of their best sports journalists, what would that say about your own career?

It's been half a year since then and so far, you weren't having much luck. You were doing freelance work in the meantime — to be able to afford your rent at this point, — but you couldn't just let yourself wallow in pity.

You decided to contact a popular sports journal, asking if they had any openings for writers. Your work experience helped boost your appeal, but they said they needed a solid portfolio to consider you. Since the Sun never really let you write actual sports-related articles and few of your tabloid articles were of substance, you asked if there were any articles you could join as a freelance journalist to prove your skills.

The only one they had was one titled, "Rocky Road: Careers of the Premier League's Up and Coming" and they had a particular player you wanted to write your section on.

Contacting Keeley Jones was the easy part. You've had enough interactions with her that your name was recognizable, so you were able to organize a meeting. Your first move was apologizing for every article you've ever mentioned her in, and then quickly explaining your predicament. The KJPR owner — having been in your place of being looked down for things out of your control, — was very willing to help you get your article done.

The missing piece was just the subject of your article: Jamie Tartt. Your relationship with him was similar to the one you had with Keeley, but you doubt he'd be as forgiving.

Your suspicions were confirmed by his reaction to Keeley organizing all of this for you. You had hoped that maybe he'd forgotten all the stories you'd written about his one-night stands, scandalous statements, and failed football plays, but obviously not.

You continued to sit quietly in Keeley's office, pretending not to hear her trying to calm the football player down. After a few minutes, the pair returns and Jamie begrudgingly agrees.

For a moment there, you're ecstatic and you start organizing your schedule of events. You’ve already written a short introduction, but the rest of the article is meant to come from the player and close sources. You're also supposed to shadow him for a week to get a feel of his current state as a player in the league.

You try and explain this to Jamie, but look up to find him taking selfies on his phone. Keeley grabs his attention, but a few moments later, he's back at it, hiding his phone under the table this time.

You finally have enough. "Look Jamie, if you don't want to do this,—"

"You're right, I don't." He finally looks straight at you and you hold yourself back from smacking his smug face. You don't care how many articles say he's gotten better; you still think he's the same prick you wrote all those tabloids about.

"Jamie, we talked about this," Keeley interjects. "It'll be good for your career and Richmond's standing for next season, if you do this profile."

"Yeah, but you couldn't get any other writer?" Jamie turns to face her instead.

"Look, she really needs this article," The KJPR owner pleads with the footballer, but that only gets him more riled up.

His gaze lands on you once again, with a smug look on his face. "So her career is in my hands?" He lets out a laugh, before standing up from his seat. "Message me if you find a journalist who’s more than a mediocre tabloid writer." Jamie leaves the room without another word and you slump into your chair.

Keeley tries to get up and chase after him, but you grab her arm before she does. "It's alright, Keeley. I didn't expect him to say yes," you admit.

"Well, I can try and ask the other players if they're willing to do it. I don't suppose you've written anything for the tabloids about them, right?" She asks jokingly, but you shake your head. The journal was very specific about which player they wanted. It's Tartt or nothing.

You get up to leave, but not without thanking Keeley for trying. She says she'll send Jamie the introduction you wrote, and you appreciate the act but aren't hopeful. As you leave the office, you decide not to go back to your flat just yet and let your feet decide where you're going.

Of course, you end up at Crown & Anchor. It's nearing 6 pm by then and you decide to just have dinner there. You send a message to your roommate about it, before ordering two beers and fish & chips from Mae. You really shouldn't be eating out given how you're already scrounging for jobs, but after the second beer, it didn't seem like such a bad idea.

It's 9 pm the next time you check the clock and finally decide it's time to go home. You see Mae walking over to your booth, so you pull your wallet out of your bag. "I don't have it in me to look at the bill, just grab whatever from here and let's call it a day, yeah?"

"Someone's already paid for your meal." She responds, dropping the receipt in your palm instead. You scrunch your eyebrows before she points at someone walking towards the table. You look up and focus your eyes to find Jamie Tartt standing there. He slides into the other side and takes the receipt from you.

Before you can say anything, Jamie pulls out his phone and reads off his screen. "After aiding in AFC Richmond's promotion back to the Premier League, it's clear as day that Tartt — like his hair with the blonde highlights — is changing for the better."

You perk up when you realize what he's reciting. The football player continues, "Keeley sent the first few paragraphs you wrote. I'm not much of a reader, but this is alright."

You give him a small smile, still trying to sober yourself up for this conversation. "Thank you," is all you manage to say. “How’d you find me?”

“I didn’t. Just ended up at this pub and saw you.” You shrug at that explanation before Jamie continues, "I'll consider doing the profile," Your eyes widen, but he adds, "Only if you explain why the fuck you were so obsessed with me at the Sun?"

That's enough to shake you awake. "I was not obsessed with you!" You protest, a little louder than you intended, with Mae sending a glare in your direction.

You take a drink of water and take a deep breath before finally putting it out in the open.

"I have a degree in Journalism from Leeds," you start, prompting a confused look on the football player's face.

"The fuck does that have to do with all this?" He asks and you hold your hand up to stop him. He rolls his eyes but doesn't say anything, so you take the chance to continue.

"I have a proper degree from a good school. I have watched and played football all my life. My dad helped me join a league as a kid because of how much we loved the sport." You lean into the table, emphasizing the last part of your statement. If Jamie had arrived five beers earlier, you doubt you'd be admitting this to him.

"I played the game up until secondary school when I started getting serious about my writing. I decided to focus on that more, but I only knew how to write about football." You look up to make sure Jamie is still paying attention and find him looking at you intently.

You take a breath and continue, "I started writing for my school's paper about our team's games and when I went to university, I did the same thing. I've practically been a sports journalist for a decade, so I can proudly say that I'm a fucking qualified writer. I initially applied to be a journalist for the Independent,"

"What, like the Trent Crimm types?" Jamie interjects and you nod.

"But they decided to refer me to the Sun instead. The only things they'd let me write about were tabloids. As in, if I wrote anything about football or sports, it'll get rejected like that," You smack the table, startling Jamie a little, and sigh.

"The closest I could get was writing about rumors about the players, but even then, I'd only really get a small part at the back of the paper. The first time I got a section on the front page though, was when I wrote that article about you. The one about you getting caught with two girls in a karaoke room?" You remind him and he flinches at the reminder but doesn't say anything.

"Well yeah, that one. Anyway, I realized that if I wanted a chance to become an actual sports journalist, I had to get my stupid articles on the front page first and my most popular ones were always about you." You try and gauge Jamie's reaction to that, but he's doing a good job at keeping a straight face now. Or maybe you're just too drunk to properly determine his features.

"So I kept writing about you, whatever bullshit rumor or story I could get my hands on. I'd usually add some things at the end about your football performance thinking that an editor would see it and say 'Oh, she knows what she's talking about,'" You drop your voice an octave to try and mimic one of the executives you knew back then.

"But after a while, you started cleaning up your image and I started to realize that no matter what I did, no one fucking cared. I'd never get a chance to write what I actually wanted there, so I left." You lean back into your seat and let out a huff. "And now you're all caught up."

It takes a minute before Jamie finally speaks up. "I'll do it." A part of you still doubted that he'd agree, but with verbal confirmation, you allow yourself to internally celebrate. "But you better make me look good, yeah?"

"Yes, I promise," you reply, nodding your head furiously. "Oh, and thanks for paying for my dinner."

"Sure. I'll ask Keeley about our schedule next week." Jamie moves to get up but pauses for a second before jerking his head towards you. "Also, my hair is walnut mist, not blonde. You better change that in the article."

You wonder why this is what Jamie chooses to raise his voice about, but you agree nonetheless. He leaves you be and you sit there for a moment, still in shock. But once one of the servers comes to clean up your table, you finally get the sense to call your roommate to pick you up and share the news.

—

After a rough hangover the morning after, you check your phone to find a message from Keeley telling you Jamie changed his mind about it. You guess he decided not to tell her about what you said last night, much to your relief. You find another message from an unknown number.

I'm usually at the clubhouse by 10, so best to be there by then.

You were still too groggy to properly comprehend the message when another one pops up.

It's Jamie.

You save the contact on your phone before getting up and starting your outline. You already had a few questions lined up when you were planning the article, mainly topics that only he could comment on. One of those things is his career in the recent year.

After losing Lust Conquers All and being kicked out of Man City — arguably your biggest article, — there were fewer and fewer stories for you to write about the footballer, so your last few months at the Sun were pretty lackluster. You didn't have any reason to keep following Jamie's career, so you still had to fill that gap through your interview. But you decided to keep that till after you shadowed Jamie for the week since you also wanted to get the input of his teammates and coaches.

Over the week, you'd received mostly the same stories about the player. Massive prick, got sent back to Man City, came back and redeemed himself, and is now both a better player and teammate. It's nothing you hadn't heard before from second-hand sources, but at least you had direct quotes from his teammates for the article.

Watching training was the more exciting part of being at the clubhouse, especially getting to watch the improvements of the Richmond team as a whole. They seemed to be more united than before, probably because of the promotion high.

Your main focus was Jamie and you could tell that his teammates were right. Gone were the days of hogging the ball and only allowing himself to score a goal. He still had slight vibes of his old prick self, but you learned from the coaches that it was more of a tactic than anything. You even learned about their "signal," which they once did in a match a few months ago, you remember.

For the most part, you had avoided Jamie, still sensing a sort of resentment towards you. You couldn't blame him; he was already doing you a massive favor and it would be rude to get mad at him for justifiably being pissed off at you. It was only ever slight nods and greetings in the halls, and occasionally glances during practice.

Only at the end of the week did you finally have a conversation with him again to plan your one-on-one interview. Well, more of you enumerating your ideas and him only responding in nods.

"Is Sunday okay? Keeley said we can use one of the meeting rooms in KJPR for it." You're double-checking the message from the CEO as Jamie fixes himself up in front of his locker.

"Nah, too stuffy," is the first thing the football player says during the whole conversation. "How long's it gonna take?"

You had already lessened the number of questions for him based on the information you gathered from the team so that only left a select few. You didn't want to underestimate it though, so you tell him around 1-2 hours, depending on his answers.

"Then can't you find a restaurant or something for it? So I'm not starving the whole time." He asks, and you bite back from commenting on his tone. This is for the greater good. This is for the greater good.

"Sure, I'll find a quiet cafe for it, so no one will disturb us." You already had a few in mind that you used to go to when you needed a space to write.

"Okay, sounds good," Jamie responds and there are a few quiet moments before the footballer says his goodbyes. "Have a nice night."

"You too," You move to the side and the football player leaves without another word.

You exhale deeply and wait for a beat before heading into the hallway yourself. You start walking out of the building when you hear someone call out to you.

"Hi! I didn't know you'd be here today," You greet Keeley, who's rushing down the stairs.

"Oh, I'm just visiting Rebecca." She explains, pointing upstairs. "How's the article going?"

"It's going fine." You answer.

"Just fine? If Jamie's being an arse, you can tell me." You laugh but shake your head. Keeley seems to believe you and instead tells you, "Also, I've already contacted a photographer for Jamie's shoot. I'll send you his email, so you can plan it out with him. And, if you need any additional information, I'm sure I can help fill the gaps."

"Yes, thank you," You smile at her when a question pops into your head. "Do you know if Jamie's dating anyone right now?" Your first thought is to ask his possible partner for an interview, but you instantly realize your fault. "Wait, never mind, I shouldn't ask. That's way too invasive. Old habits die hard, sorry."

"It's alright," Keeley's quick reply relaxes you. "But no, I don't think he's seen anyone in a while."

That was more or less the end of the conversation with Keeley as Rebecca finally appeared and the two ladies went back to the latter's office.

—

The afternoon you're supposed to meet Jamie started rough. First, you realize you didn't charge your laptop the night before and now, it was completely dead. Next, your roommate had used up all the hot water, so you had to power through the freezing temperatures. Now, you're running late to the interview and sprinting through the street.

You finally get to the cafe and as you expected, there was only one other person there aside from the barista. You wave at the person at the counter, already familiar with them before approaching Jamie.

"12 minutes late," is all he has to say, as Jamie glances at his watch.

"Sorry, I just," you stop yourself from going on a whole monologue about how shit your day has been. "I got delayed, okay?"

Maybe he could sense you weren't in the mood to deal with his attitude, — when were you ever? — so Jamie instead informs you, "I ordered some food and the guy said he knew you, so he made whatever you usually get."

You try not to show your surprise at him paying for your lunch, but it wouldn't be the first time. "Thanks," The football player only nods, before crossing his arms.

You open your notebook and the voice recorder on your phone, "Okay, let's start."

You didn't expect this interview with Jamie to be so... fun?

You decided to start with the more surface-level questions like his expectations for the season, so it could break the ice a little. But after a sip of your tea ended up in the wrong pipe and launched you into a coughing fit, the tension was immediately broken.

Jamie started giving you more substantial answers and was more open about talking about his return to Richmond. How it really changed him, specifically Ted Lasso's effect on him and the club as a whole. You notice how soft his features had become talking about his coach and the team and you react with a smile.

After that and finishing your sandwiches, you shift the topic to his childhood and how it shaped him as a player now. You notice the sudden change in Jamie as if he's hesitant to start, so you reassure him, "If it's too much, we can change gears a bit. Talk about something else."

He shakes his head, "No, it's fine. There are just some things that I don't really want to share."

"That's fine. You don't have to. Just stick to the general stuff if you want." You pause the recording for a moment, trying to make Jamie more comfortable.

He pauses for a moment, before letting out a chuckle. "Do you think old you would be happy with letting me keep my secrets?" He changes his tone towards the end and you roll your eyes.

"Obviously not," you answer. "But I've been trying to bury that version of me."

"Why? You probably could've taken down the parliament with your skills." Jamie jokes and you finally break into a smile.

"Well, I never really used my skills for bigger and better things, did I? Just finding dirt on football players to make some money and build a mediocre reputation as a journalist." You answer honestly and the football player's expression changes.

"I didn't mean to be such a prick during the meeting." Jamie starts, but you shake your head.

"Nah, you had every right to. I wrote some pretty shitty things about you back then."

"Well yeah, but your life's kind of gone to shit since then, so now I feel bad." Your jaw drops and your eyes widen at his explanation and lightly punch him in the shoulder. Maybe the two of you weren't close enough for that kind of thing, but Jamie just laughed at your reaction.

"Fucking prick," you say in a joking manner. "Let's get back to the interview." You start the recording again, as Jamie recounts the first time his mum bought him a pair of boots.

He starts telling you about all the significant milestones over the years, and while you can tell he's holding back some things, — specifically about his dad, — you say nothing. It's the least you can do.

Maybe it's the fact that this has been the best part of your shitty day, but you started to see Jamie in a different light. Yes, everyone talked about how much he had changed, but this was the first time you saw it directly. You didn't even notice how late it's gotten till a brand new barista approached you about cleaning out the table.

"Shit, this is way past two hours now." You exclaim and check your notes to see that you've covered all the needed areas at this point. "But, I think we can end it now."

"Actually," you look back up at Jamie, who pauses to think. "Do you wanna get dinner? You pay this time,"

You don't have time to wonder about his reasoning for this and let your hunger take over. "Sure, but if I'm paying, I pick the place."

The two of you stand up and Jamie directs you to the door, "Lead the way," you playfully roll your eyes and start walking, with the footballer trailing behind you.

You head to a nearby Japanese restaurant, — one of the many perks of your flat's location — and settle down in a booth near the back. There were more people in this place and you weren't sure how comfortable Jamie would be being seen with you. You knew better than anyone how easily a scandal could be made from a simple picture.

The two of you pick out your meals and thank God it was an older lady taking your order who didn't recognize the footballer across you.

"Okay, why'd you want to eat dinner together?" You finally bring up.

The player just shrugs and leans on the table, "Thought I'd give you a chance to pay me back." You can't help but agree with that statement, so you let it go. Jamie continues, "Also, I'm interviewing you now."

"Oh God, don't tell me you're doing a profile on me." You joke and the player rolls his eyes.

He doesn't respond and goes back to his questions, "What got you into football?"

It was the first question you had asked him earlier. While he had given you a general answer initially, he added to it afterward, saying it was one of the few things he was sure he was good at as a kid. You decide to give him an honest answer.

"My brother and I don't have a lot in common. Didn't even feel like I had a sibling for the first part of my life. Till he realized I wasn't half bad at football. It was the only way to get a decent conversation out of the guy, and after a while, I ended up actually liking it." The moment you finish your answer, you realize you've never actually said it aloud to anyone.

For a brief moment, you think Jamie would say something serious, much to your dismay. You hated having to be emotional in front of other people. It was your job to pry at people's thoughts and feelings, not the other way around. But after building your writing career around the guy, you should've known he doesn't fare too well with feelings either.

"Think he's a fan of me?" He asks instead.

"Fuck no, not anymore," you're quick to reply and Jamie looks offended. You elaborate, "He's a Man City supporter. Fucking hates your guts now, honestly."

Jamie lets out a small laugh. "Runs in the family." The lady comes back with your food and that puts a hold on your conversation.

After a few minutes of eating, you finally break the silence. "You know I never actually hated you, right?"

Mid-slurp, Jamie looks up with a look of disbelief. "Really? You wrote all those articles and still don't hate me?"

"Yes!" You defend yourself. "I told you before. I did it for the job, nothing more. And objectively, you were a great player. You honestly have more of a reason to hate me than I do."

Jamie scoffs. "I don't hate you either. Annoyed? Yeah. Pissed off? Most of the time, but I never hated you."

You had already gotten pretty good at hiding your surprise about these revelations. "Well, I guess that settles it. We don't hate each other." You stick out your hand and Jamie looks at you in confusion for a section, before shaking it. The two of you laugh and continue your meal.

After paying, you end the night there and wave goodbye to Jamie outside the restaurant. If you from a year ago saw you hanging out with the footballer, she would've thought you'd lost your mind.

As you head back home, you have this weird feeling in your chest. Your whole job was finding ways to express things through words, but even then, you couldn't figure this one out. It's only when you get home and re-listen to your recording filled with jokes and exchanges that you realize.

You may or may not be developing a crush on the football player.

—

You hadn't physically seen Jamie since the photoshoot a few days after your interview and dinner with him.

You didn’t have a reason to anymore, since you had pretty much finished the whole article and already handed it to the editor for proofreading. They sent it back with minor notes, — just some grammar slip-ups and possible rephrasing, — which gave you hope that you might end up with a job when this is all over.

Getting the profile approved also gave you a chance to message Jamie after weeks of no contact, just to ask for his opinion on things. You didn't know if it was nerves or excitement making that pit in your stomach waiting for him to reply. All he had to say about the article was that he was glad you changed the "blonde" line in the introduction. Luckily though, it didn't end there. After that, he asked you what you thought of his new locker set-up.

That was the first of many times he would shift the conversation to random topics. You started spending your mornings and nights just messaging the football player. Sometimes he'd send pictures from training, saying it's extra material for the article and sometimes you'd send pictures from the cafe where you're writing, joking that you had new ideas for Jamie-related articles to send to the su!z

And when the rankings about the upcoming season came out and put AFC Richmond last, your first thought was to message him.

Fuck the pundits, honestly. You knew he didn't need any context, but you didn't expect Jamie to answer so quickly considering he was supposed to be at training.

I'm not worried. It's just poopy. You're not entirely sure what that meant, but at least it didn't seem to affect him so much.

I'm glad, then. You wait for a beat before sending another message. I know you'll do great this season. Why were you so nervous sending that? God, it felt like you were 15 again.

Thanks. Pretty sure 'tabloid writer you' is rolling in her grave.

You laugh to yourself as you reply. God, her head would be spinning knowing how I'm contributing to your already massive ego.

Jamie just sends a picture of him looking mad and you send one back sticking your tongue out.

A few days after, you send the published article to both Jamie and Keeley, along with a thank you for all the help. The latter answered sincerely, partnered with an invitation to the first game of the season, but of course, the footballer decided to answer jokingly.

Over time, you'd gotten over being so worried about interacting with Jamie. He was just another guy, even if he was an incredibly fit footballer for his day job. And now, you'd get to watch him play in the first match with Chelsea.

Despite your presence being welcomed by Keeley, Rebecca, the owner of Richmond, and Higgins, the Director of Football Operations, it didn't take a genius to realize how tense the three of them were at the match. Their club was the underdog of the season, so it was understandable to be nervous about the match, but you soon pick up on a different vibe involving an ex-husband and internationally famous football player.

"What do you think, then?" Keeley asks you when Rebecca leaves to try and convince Zava to join her team instead. "Do you think Zava's worth it?"

"Yes," you answer honestly, from the perspective of a sports journalist and a football fan in general. "Zava's objectively one of the best football players in the world, and his track record of wins outweigh his track record of diva moments."

"Well said," Higgins responds and you smile at him, before turning back your attention to the game.

When Rebecca comes back to your seats and explains the disastrous interaction, your reaction is the same as the rest of them: pure disappointment.

But as the game ends with a draw, you can't help but celebrate along with the rest of the Richmond fans. It may not be a win, but it was more than most people expected of the club, so that was something.

You join the other three briskly leaving your seats and avoiding the press conference of Zava until you hear him utter the name 'Richmond' in his speech.

"Holy fuck," you celebrate with Keeley and congratulate Rebecca since whatever she said to Zava seemed to work out in the end.

It was then that you felt a ping from your cell phone. You open it to find an email from the sports journal offering you a slot as a feature writer. You end up repeating, "Holy fuck," drawing the attention of the others.

Keeley glances at your screen and exclaims in happiness, "Oh my God. Congrats to you, too!" She goes in for a hug and despite still being in shock, you're quick to reciprocate it.

"Thank you, Keeley. Truly." Your face is just an expression of pure joy as you let go of her. As you continue to walk out of the stadium, you end up excusing yourself. Of course, you had to thank the main person for all this.

You find your way to the guest locker rooms and even from the hallway, you hear the cheering of the Richmond tram. They must've heard the news. You don't bother knocking and walk in to find what you expected: celebrating and rather sweaty football players. Well, there was one person who stood out.

"Jamie!" You call out to him from the door and the moment his somewhat solemn eyes landed on you, he made his way through the crowd to you.

"What're you doing here?"

"I just wanted to tell you that I got the job! I'm going to be a proper sports journalist." You inform him and his expression immediately changes to match yours. Catching you by surprise, Jamie envelopes you in a hug and you decidedly ignore his dirty kit as you reciprocate it.

"That's great," Jamie says, as he lets go of you.

You smile, before remembering the news earlier. "Oh and congrats, too! On the draw and getting Zava." The footballer's expression noticeably drops at the mention of the other player, and you finally get it. "You're not happy about getting him, are you?"

Jamie inhales sharply. "Rather not talk about that right now."

"Okay, sure," You back off. "But if it helps in any way, you'll still be my favorite player on the team."

Your heart skips a beat when Jamie gives you a cocky smirk, one that you used to despise. "Yeah? And you'll keep writing about me too at the new job, too?"

"It is my specialty. Plus, you're infinitely more interesting than Zava and his avocado farm." The two of you let out matching chuckles.

The cheering from the locker room seems to have died down and there were fewer and fewer people in the hallway. That's when Jamie takes a step forward closer to you.

When you don't pull away, he finally staets. "I was wondering, if you weren't busy,—"

"Yes," You interrupted him and hope you didn't do so prematurely. "If what you're about to ask is what's I'm thinking, then yes."

"Oh, you're fine giving me dirt on the other teams when you start your new job?"

You stop your expression from dropping and force a smile, "Yeah, sure."

But your disappointment doesn't last because Jamie starts chuckling, "I'm joking! I wanted to ask if you wanted to go out sometime."

You're not sure if you should be annoyed or ecstatic, so your reaction is a mix of both. "Oh fuck you, Jamie!"

The footballer's prick side is practically second nature. "If the night goes well."

You lightly shove his shoulders before answering, "Sure. As long as it's a private place. Those tabloid writers can be so annoying sometimes." You flash a playful smile at Jamie, which he's quick to mirror.

#jamie tartt #jamie tartt x reader #ted lasso #jamie tartt fanfiction #jamie tartt imagine #jamie tartt fic #jamie tartt fluff #ted lasso fanfic #jamie tartt fanfic #jamie tartt reader

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randomsmilingpotatoes · 2 years

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i think season 2 did such a great job at showing an alternative life for all the characters. and i want to talk about what that means for wilhelm and simon.

Simon, of course, is most obvious. The thing with Marcus is, I believe he was written to have manipulative traits so that we would continue to root for Wilhelm. It meant that we didn't care when Simon cheated, because we knew he was better anyway. It also explained why Simon even stayed with him in the first place, since he realised quite early on that he wasn't ready for anything serious and that he was still harbouring feelings for Wille.

But I want to put Marcus' toxicity aside for a moment. He otherwise represents a perfect man for Simon, technically. He's a local, he didn't grow up on money, his dates are chilling eating pizza with the speakers blaring, singing karaoke, and hanging out in his place. He made it clear he was interested in Simon from the start, and didn't have a problem being out, because being out wasn't something that affected his life. Both Simon's friends and his mum support the relationship, and you can tell this is because he fits their ideal of who Simon should be with and who fits better into their lives.

Simon sees this life, he sees the ease of living he could have. But he still knows deep down that his heart lies with Wille, and this is what leads him to pursue Wille back after he begins to lose him. He chose a life with Wilhelm.

Wilhelm actually got a glimpse of multiple alternative lifestyles. Now I don't believe that Wille made a move on Felice because he viewed her as an easier life, however, she has always represented this. Ever since the beginning of the show, Felice existed as a potential love interest, in the eyes of everyone else. But in season one, we relatively ignore this, because we know Wille's feelings lie elsewhere.

But in season 2, the prospect of Wilhelm and Felice being a couple appears more tangible. While we, the viewers, are focused on Wille's relationship with Simon, the other students have all but forgotten about it. While Wilhelm himself is focused on Simon as well, this leads to him spending a lot of alone time with Felice that the other students begin to question.

I'm not sure at what point during that scene in his room that Wilhelm decided to try to replicate his time with Simon, or if it was a conscious decision at the time or if it just happened. But it's interesting that he does do this. Now, this ultimately leads to him realising that he cannot replicate the feelings or connection he has with Simon, and Felice admitting that she partially only liked him because he was a prince. So between the two of them, they know where they stand.

But the Forest Ridge boys' reaction is something else. The way they chanted and celebrated for Wille and Felice was something he never received with Simon. Of course, his relationship was private, but we know that it would not have had the same reaction anyway. Especially since they pushed this whole show about the hookup with Felice, with Simon sitting right there.

Wille is unlabelled, and remains that way. We don't know, if he didn't know Simon, whether he has the potential to have feelings for girls or not. So in a realistic sense, this storyline is irrelevant. But it represents a life that he could choose to lead, if he wanted. And he would have the public support of everyone around him.

Nils played such an important role this season in showing a life Wille could also lead. He shows Wille that there are many queer people in their societal class, who are simply keeping it quiet. He shows that Wille can choose to date guys, that there are other queer guys out there who would be willing to stay publicly closeted with him. Guys that would understand why he denied the video, because they themselves would do the exact same thing. Nils even makes this life attainable, by inviting Wille to come on holiday with him and meet people there. And I think, if Simon had not accepted Wille back, this is probably the way he would have gone. But it's not what he wanted.

Wille never wanted to deny the video. He wanted to not say anything, but then when he did have to speak publicly about it, he wanted to say it was him, because he wanted to be with Simon. But he was manipulated, and also not quite ready to come out.

The Queen also presented a different option for Wilhelm. He could come out, he could even be with Simon, if he wanted. But he had to wait til he was eighteen to be public. This is fairly realistic, and probably could have even been a viable option in Wilhelm's and even Simon's eyes, if the video never happened. If he had gotten to control his story all the way through, instead of being outed and having to deny his sexuality in the process. But he shouldn't have to wait to control his own narrative, when someone else already took that away from him.

The speech at the end of season one is Wille's opportunity for a redo. He can reclaim his own power, and tell the world it was him. He is in love with a boy. And in doing that, he chose a life with Simon.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Wilhelm and Simon both had the opportunity to lead an easier life. They could still be in queer relationships, but with people that fit into their supposed societal class, people that their friends and family approved of. Throughout this time apart, they were both shown that they could both attain this life.

But they chose not to.

They chose each other. Because they realised that no matter what hurdles they have to go through, that they are worth it for each other. They are a couple worth fighting for.

#wilhelm x simon #young royals #prince wilhelm #simon eriksson #young royals analysis

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redhoodinternaldialectical · 9 months

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My Jason Todd Rec List and Character Manifesto! (Edited and updated 28/01/2024)

This is a fuckin mess my ghouls, but I got categories and I got opinions and who can stop me from typing em out? Certainly not @lazaruspiss who is the reason this thing got made!

The format is gonna be

title and page numbers (No #s if I'm recommending the whole title) picture Summary and general notes My estimate of how unhinged he is in this portrayal What his morals are like; note this isn't about whether he's a protagonist or antagonist

Since cream rises to the top, let us start with:

The Creme de la Creme

The best of the best. The most fun, the most compelling, the most interesting looks into his character.

Green Arrow (2001) #69 - #72

This one really does have it all. Jason runs rings around both Batman and Green Arrow at the same time, all the while going after a goal neither of them ever truly figures out in large part because this story wasn't afraid to let Bruce be either wrong or lying about Jason's motives. It also wonderfully leverages the ways in which the Bats and the Arrows are really good foils for each other. I think I'm going to be turning over the ways these interactions went down for a long ass time. I've been really wanting to go page by page for a comparison between the way Jason treats Mia in this and the way Jason treats Tim in the Titans Tower showdown. Bottom line for this one: It's just so good!

Jason's sanity level: Six out of Ten hinges affixed. He's got a solid grip on things, is reasonably level headed, only problem is he might have completely forgotten how to interact with other human beings outside of combat. Love him for that.

Jason's moral compass bearing: Sympathetic Villain. Decidedly willing to mow down some "brain donors", and his goals are pretty morally grey, but he clearly still has a strong code of ethics.

Joker: the Man Who Stopped Laughing

With Jason's return to being an antagonist after a long stint in the Hero bin comes his return to being really fucking dangerous and whip smart! My boy quotes serious philosophy that gives him a real point to make against non lethal vigilantes and cops! I also think the part where he lets himself be arrested just... it says so much and all of it is wonderfully interesting and feels fitting for his character. He's kept deeply human, and just all of this portrayal gels together really well.

At the time of writing, this comic isn't finished yet, so I'm going off of like 12 issues in which he appears less than the Joker, but what is there is phenomenal, even with Gotham War having... Minorly Derailed Jason's role in things, and one or two inevitable scenes where ya just have to accept that he's not as trigger happy as he should be because DC is married to the Joker.

Also I like that he's friends with my favorite, Stephanie Brown :3 and he and Rose's chemistry is nice. On top of all that? It's a fun comic. Like, I generally hate the Joker, but I found myself enjoying watching the Joker do his Joker things in this one.

Jason's sanity level: Nine out of Ten hinges affixed. Level headed, calm, careful, really the only reason this isn't a 10/10 is cause he's obsessively focused, which like, honestly is pretty reasonable I think.

Jason's moral compass bearing: Clearly Justified Antihero. I almost put down Hero on this one, but ultimately he is just far enough over the line with how he treats the less threatening of the rogues like Killer Moth.

Batman (1940) #408 - #411 Jason's debut featuring Ma Gunn's School and his first ever outing as Robin fighting Two-Face

Just LOOK at this PRECIOUS BOY! I wanna pinch him on his cheeks and give him a handful of these bad boys

Jason has a ton of personality to him right out the gate. The first story has Ma Gunn as the villain and she's a lot of fun. The second story in here with Two-Face is also enlightening with regards to Jason's early personality, even if it's not quite as fun.

Jason's sanity level: Ten out of Ten hinges affixed.

Jason's moral compass bearing: Hero.

Under the Red Hood would be next if it wasn't already filed under ->

Foundational Texts

This is the shit that defines Jason as a character. Much is mutable in any given comic, but somehow, someway, all depictions of Jason are impacted and informed by these three stories. Enough has been said about all of them that I'm gonna keep it brief.

Red Hood: The Lost Days

Jason's sanity level: Eight out of Ten hinges affixed.

Jason's moral compass bearing: Antihero. He kills some incredibly nasty people, while also doing some genuinely heroic shit. The only places where his morals deteriorate are in the presence of Batman and the Joker.

Under the Red Hood

Jason's sanity level: Four out of Ten hinges affixed. Remember how his morals deteriorated in the face of Batman and the Joker? Yeah, that's mostly because he's way, way too personally invested to think straight about them. He's strategic as fuck, but this is not a stable man's strategy for dealing with his issues.

Jason's moral compass bearing: Sympathetic Villain. He is a revenant, a vengeful juggernaut, and breaks an awful lot of eggs making this brilliant disaster of an omelette.

Batman (1940) #426 - #429 A Death in the Family

Jason's sanity level: Ten out of Ten hinges affixed.

Jason's moral compass bearing: Hero.

Joker becoming an ambassador to Iran plotlines count: One too many.

Solid Storylines

These ain't the vaulted heights, but not everything has to be the Sistine Chapel. They're solid, and if you're wanting more Jason I do certainly recommend them.

Countdown Presents: The Search for Ray Palmer and Countdown to Infinite Crisis

Jason is in what I like to call his Purposeless Depression Era during this. It's after his plans in Under the Red Hood fail and he's really just got no place to go, no place to be, and in fact is keenly aware that on a cosmic level, he truly does not belong in this world anymore. He's supposed to be dead. There's something I find quite neat about this team up, with Donna Troy and Kyle Raynor and Bob, it's out of the ordinary for Jason, it's not bat related, and the ways he fits and doesn't fit with the other characters are just neat.

I especially recommend Gotham by Gaslight. The plot will be a lil hard to follow if you haven't read the others, but Jason by the end hopes to return to Victorian Era Steampunk Gotham and the moments of him hoping to literally leave his universe behind are both sweet and sorrowful.

Jason's sanity level: Ten out of Ten hinges affixed. He's just sad and lonely.

Jason's moral compass bearing: Hero. Even if only Donna is willing to tentatively try to see him that way.

Robin (1993) #177 and one page of #182 and the front half of #183

Despite how much Jason is known for it, I think this is the only time we see him trying to run organized crime outside of Under the Red Hood (and uh debatably Battle for the Cowl). Short lil string of appearances, but critical for understanding how he's seen by Tim during this era if you care about that, and it really cemented my understanding of Jason being strangely honest and forthright.

I think the major way other Bats fail to comprehend him is that they expect him to manipulate through lying, which just isn't his style. He doesn't lie about his motives; he doesn't obfuscate his tactics; he doesn't hide how he's feeling. Hell, he doesn't even try to lie his way out of prison! I could not tell you why this series of interactions gave me this impression but it is why I have such faith that when Jason says something, he probably just means it, even when characters like Dick or Tim assume otherwise.

Pity this was the lead up to Battle for the Cowl.

Jason's sanity level: Ten out of Ten hinges affixed. He's even attempting to pick himself up out of his Purposeless Depression Era slump at the start.

Jason's moral compass bearing: Antihero.

Nightwing (1996) #118 - #122 aka Brothers in Blood aka the One Where Jason Gets Tentacles

COWARDS and KNAVES will tell you "the tentacles are so icky and everyone is so OOC" or whatever but again they are KNAVES and COWARDS because bitch this shit is GREAT

Jason: Wow! My bestest big brother killed someone who deserved it, so now I (the person he's rejecting only because I kill people who deserved it) have a real chance at being his family again!! :D Hooray! :) Dickie-Bird why don't you look happy to see me? :) Dickie-Bird I went out of my way to get us matching outfits and stalked your work and killed people in your name so it's nice and easy to make room for me in your life! :) :) :)

Dick:

Jason's sanity level: Two out of Ten hinges affixed. My mans is off his rocker and I adore him like this. Frankly, the entire storyline is unhinged, and it only feels appropriate that Jason is similarly bonkers in yonkers.

Jason's moral compass bearing: Villain. You can sympathize with him, and he is still trying to carry out justice, but I have to call it for straight villain when he's threatening to bomb a building full of innocent people.

Batman and Robin (2009) #23 - #25

I don't have much to say about this one. It's good. The above page is pretty much the highlight.

Wait actually I do have something to say and it is that I would like to lick Jason's abs, pls & thx, because the other highlight is that Winick clearly believes in redeeming Jason's value as a villain through sex appeal and it is working lmao

Jason's sanity level: Ten out of Ten hinges affixed. Certifiably sane, he's passed all his psych exams!

Jason's moral compass bearing: Villain. He threatens to bomb a train station full of innocent people. While he does do that in service of freeing himself and Scarlet, thus making it not completely self centered, I still gotta put him firmly in Villain.

Nightwing (2016) 2021 Annual

In high contrast to the previous two in which Jason acts as a villain to Dick, this one has them working together and the tentative peace and cautious trust they've got going is interesting to me. This Team Z era Jason is interesting to me in general, though I don't know much about him.

Jason's sanity level: Nine out of Ten hinges affixed. He's quite chill, but there's just this little edge to him that says his relationship to violence is a little too casual a little too deep to really be fully hinged.

Jason's moral compass bearing: Edgy Hero.

Your Mileage May Vary

These stories I can't recommend without major caveats or warnings, but I still think are worth mentioning.

Gotham War (It's such a mangled mess that I'm just gonna link a reading guide.)

So, the main problem here is that Gotham War spans five different titles and had three different authors whose renditions of Jason do not feel cohesive or even coherent. The funny thing is though, each rendition has real merits, and while it doesn't go far enough in condemning Bruce's horrifying treatment of Jason for many people's tastes, I have to point out that it's one of the only comics to condemn an instance of Bruce mistreating Jason at all. The fact that the other Robins come to his defense is a HUGE thing! The bar may be in Hell, but it did clear the bar!

Due to how disjointed it is, I'm going to very loosely separate Jason out into two versions of himself. Think of these not as hard lines, but more a spectrum he slides across depending on what author has him that issue.

Jason Primus combines the ideas in Jason's Under the Red Hood speech about controlling crime rather than trying to stomp it out with his more Heroic modern interpretation. He's a chill, funny, smart guy whose protectiveness over the mooks is really charming.

Jason's sanity level: Ten out of Ten hinges affixed. Jason's moral compass bearing: Hero.

Jason Secundus is much more violent, not used to working with other people, and paranoid and antsy in a way that causes him to take it out on people who really don't deserve it. This is a compelling take on him, though I like him closer to Jason Primus. His trauma has clearly shaped him a lot, both for better and for worse.

Jason's sanity level: Seven out of Ten hinges affixed. Jason's moral compass bering: Anti-Hero, most of this focuses on him antagonizing two former Joker goons which kinda doesn't work well cause they're mostly scarecrow goons actually and also at one point he hurts them in a way that borderline just seems like stress relief. It's nothing worse than what we see Batman himself doing countless times, but it's still jarring because we've been made to strongly sympathize with the goon in question.

Batman: Three Jokers <- I read it while typing this up, so I got a lotta thoughts

Guh, this one is just fucking sad

So, I don't mind a story being blunt with its message as long as the message actually holds up. Unfortunately, this three parter's attempt at the cycle of violence lesson is... bad. Real bad.

Jason in it is neat! This is a good Jason portrayal somehow despite literally everything about the way this comic frames him! The narrative expects us to believe he is a danger to society on the cusp of becoming another Joker, because he *checks notes* shot the Joker dead, shot at a Joker loyal guy, and roughly interrogated an injured child abuser. At no point does he show signs of wanting to hurt innocent people. At no point does he show signs of doing any hurting without premeditation or a need to defend himself. I'm baffled by this.

My kingdom for a fucking CRUMB of nuance, I swear, smh...

I hear a lot of people hate his one sided romance towards Barbara. This is understandable as it squanders the opportunity to have a female character not be stuck as the narrative sponge for man emotions. I like it from the perspective of a Jason fan, and give condolences for the Barbara fans. It's not healthy, and good fucking job on the janitor sweeping away his letter to her so poor Babs doesn't have to deal with that shit, but I do like Jason's desperation to be loved by someone, anyone, who might show him compassion.

Jason's sanity level: Six out of Ten hinges affixed. He's sad, he's lonely, he needs some PTSD specific therapy, he's a bit creepy about his crush on Barbara, but quite frankly he has it together a lot more than the narrative would like us to believe. The way the other characters treat him like he's some kind of monster just waiting to snap and start maiming people indiscriminately makes me really uncomfortable.

Jason's moral compass bearing: Antihero. Quite frankly I'm tempted to say Hero out of spite.

Red Hood and the Outlaws (2016) #1 - #43

There are three transcendental character moments in this run that I think make it worth reading even if not all of it's your cup of tea. On the other hand though there are some big issues that could very easily be deal breakers. Oh and anything after #43 is a wasteland and #43 is included purely for the implication that being transgender made a woman immortal.

The narrative structure is really heavily dependent on rule of emotional impact/cool/allegorical usefulness. Many events will not make any fucking sense based on petty things like basic logic or the laws of physics, but they do work just fine in the area of what makes the story more fun or the emotional beats hit harder. Stronger than average suspension of disbelief is necessary for the reward of getting a lot of stuff that's, like, just really fuckin cool.

The romantic side plot with Artemis is... odd. Either the author, Scott Lobdell, intended to write Jason as a desperate loser trying to date his uninterested lesbian friend who he co-parents with, or he accidentally wrote a romance so awkward and comp-het that I cannot wrap my head around reading it as reciprocated. This works for me because I have a lot of fun reading Jason as a desperate loser who's not even actually in love with her, he just is desperate to cling to the closest thing he's ever gotten to a nuclear family and in denial about being either aro/ace or gay.

Now, lets explore a lil bit of the whole Jason is a loser angle, cause it's not the whole story, there are many points in which Jason gets to be a badass motherfucker, but he is much, much less of the hypercompetant, highly determined, murderous threat he used to be. Almost none of the newer renditions of Jason are. This Jason in particular though is very soft and cuddly, and fits the archetype of man trying to be the edgy bad boy but who secretly just wants a hug and a warm glass of milk.

If I were to describe my personal Jason in a few sentences I would say that he is someone who loves himself viciously. He feels he has been wronged and is willing to burn down the world to rectify that. He will hold your ass at gunpoint and demand the hugs and warm glasses of milk that he fucking well deserves!

This Jason is about as far away from that as you can possibly get. I still like him though, and I do not count him as being a different character, because when you start with emotional logic that goes like this:

It wasn't my fault + I deserve better = I get to burn the world down in order to get better

It becomes extremely difficult to ever stop burning the world without also deciding "It was my fault" or "I don't deserve better". Jason is meant to have changed a lot, and this is a plausible evolution of the Jason I prefer.

Finally, the handling of Bizarro, a mentally disabled character, is a sensitive enough topic that your mileage will vary, even if I can't think of a bad thing to say about it. Jason and Artemis are really pretty good about treating him with respect, giving him help where he needs it and autonomy where he's capable of taking it. They raise him, but don't control him, and he is literally three days old when they find him so this isn't infantilization. It takes the framing of Lenny from of Mice and Men and Flowers for Algernon and rejects them in a way that I am satisfied with. You'll just have to read it for yourself to see if you're satisfied as well.

Jason's sanity level: Ten out of Ten hinges affixed. I kinda wish he was more unhinged.

Jason's moral compass bearing: Hero. He even saves a puppy and gives them pats.

Knight Terrors: Robin

Have you ever been in the mood for a syrupy sweet hurt/comfort fanfiction in which Jason and Tim were magically forced to talk about how much they like each other in order to overcome their own insecurities? Do you wish that existed as a lavishly illustrated two issue comic?

If you answered yes to those two questions then congratulations! It does exist, this is it, go have fun!

If you think that sounds like ham fisted garbage turning what should be several long arcs of serious reconciliation and deeply meaningful character moments into two issue fan service schlock then condolences! I wish you all the best in denial, as all comic fans sail that river sooner or later and I shall join you upon it someday.

What category do I fall into? Well I think this is definitely ham fisted, but I won't kick a boar out of bed as long as they ain't a bore, and this little ditty is certainly entertaining.

Jason's sanity level: Ten out of Ten hinges affixed.

Jason't moral compass bearing: Hero.

Batman and Robin Eternal

This is a decent portrayal of Jason in his modern, much friendlier, and much more bat family integrated rendition. He has some fun moments in it, and I like his staby bracers.

I don't like this comic. It commits the most dire of writing sins: Being boring. I think about Jason every second of every minute of every day; if your comic that majorly features a good portrayal of him cannot hold my attention, then something has gone very wrong. Hopefully one of you will like it more than I do.

Jason's sanity level: Ten out of Ten hinges affixed.

Jason's moral compass bearing: Hero.

Suicide Squad: Get Joker! (Content warning for suicide, skip to the hot take if this'll get to ya - also spoiler warning cuz I can't discuss this properly without discussing the ending)

A three issue miniseries in which Jason is inducted into the Suicide Squad on a mission to kill the Joker. He's highly competent as a team leader, grounded, intelligent, and uses measured violence in a way that is satisfyingly tactical. The squad they threw together honestly has some pretty neat chemistry as a whole, and the characters were appropriately messy and quite likable.

This isn't higher on the list because it thinks it earned it's ambiguous ending, and frankly, it's wrong about that. Ambiguous endings live and die by the question they make the audience sit with - It has to be worth losing out on the emotional payoff of a solid ending.

The question of "If you left Jason in a room with the Joker and a gun with one bullet, would he shoot the Joker or himself?" is a really shitty question. Like, did the authors not realize that just on a logistical level, Jason could leave the room and find a second bullet after shooting the Joker? Like, seriously, even if we accept the premise that Joker's speech got to Jason, there are no reasons for him not to choose the "both" option. The only way I can imagine this working is if the Joker is actually the fucking Purple Man from Jessica Jones using mind control.

So we exchanged the validation of literally all our protagonists' struggles/sacrifices paying off for... the vague implication that Jason unforgivably betrayed his teammates, himself, and the entire world because he was so eager to die that he couldn't wait ten fucking minutes. If I loved the Joker I might feel differently about it, but as is, I felt insulted.

This would have been Solid Storylines or maybe even Creme de la Creme if not for that implication. It's not boring though! The rest of it up to the end is honestly pretty damn good, if a bit convoluted, and much of the ending's sour taste can be assuaged by getting out a sheet of paper and doodling Jason opening Joker's head with a handgun and then going out for icecream with the team.

Jason's sanity level: Ten out of Ten hinges affixed. He's a sad, sad lad tho.

Jason's Moral Compass Bearing: Anti-Hero, forced to be much more violent than he wants to be.

A Hot Take

I bet you thought the tentacles were the hot take! HAH! MuahahaahhHAHAHAH - Prepare now, puny mortals, to witness me defend Pill Helmet Jason AND his fashion choices!

No, I am not talking about Winick's redo late in the game, we've already been over that one. I mean I will defend Grant Morrison's flop era, three foot head gear wearin, goofy ass, unwashed ass, "how to build ur brand" reading maniac

It's time to talk about Batman and Robin (2009) #1 - #6

The interpretation of one scene makes or breaks this Jason:

If you believe he is being insincere and manipulating her into putting all her emotional eggs in the basket of his crusade, ignoring her wellbeing in favor of his 'brand', then this is probably the worst mischaracterization of Jason ever written.

If you believe he is being sincere, genuinely comforting her in the only way that he's got to deal with his own trauma, giving her real affection and not pushing her to take either option with the mask because he trusts her to make that decision for herself, then this gets Jason very right.

No matter what Morrison might have intended, I choose to believe it's the latter. This is terrible advice to give a trauma victim, but it makes perfect sense for Jason to believe that about his own trauma, and thus to pass that maladaptive view along. He doesn't try to assure her that the mask can come off safely or that he'll get her a doctor because he really can't promise her either of those things. It would be cruel to her to pretend that he's got a solution. Jason can't undo the damage that was done to her any more than he can force a dead Bruce to kill the Joker.

Instead he offers her purpose, and reassurance that she's gonna look badass if she never does take it off, and protects her when she's in trouble.

You can claim this is just him acting out his chosen Hero role, but like, WHY would he have chosen to method act that role 24/7 if he wasn't trying to BE a Hero who protects people like Scarlet? There's nothing in it for Jason to fake this.

I also think if he was being written out of character as a manipulator we would have seen him use a romantic or sexual angle which he absolutely doesn't do.

Dickie, you are such a funny Batman, they never shoulda brought Bruce back tbh.

Instead, he seems to be taking a more parental role, in a near perfect reflection of how Bruce took him in when he was a kid. Just he's doing it his way, meaning that whenever Scarlet goes further with the violence than Jason seems to want to, he backs her up instead of chastising her.

Speaking of violence and morals, Let the Punishment Fit the Crime is a coherent moral position to take, even if you (understandably) disagree with it, or disagree with what punishments fit which crimes. It's basically the same moral position as every other version of Jason there's ever been! Like, is he even killing more people than he used to in stories like Under the Red Hood? No, I don't think he is.

The branding thing is weird, lil annoying too after a while, but ultimately it still makes sense. And brings me around to my promised defense of his fashion choices.

First of all the symbolic importance of the fact that he wears white cannot be overstated in my mind. Will I elaborate? No, this post is way too long already lmao! Second off, it's supposed to be silly. I believe the silliness was a conscious, calculated choice, and the right one to make.

Jason doesn't believe that fear works, he's not trying for pure intimidation, and he knows that he's going to have to appeal to people in his bid to be seen as a Hero. Making himself seem big but non-threatening, a bright patch in the night, makes real sense.

Take a look at this view of Jason from Scarlet's POV when he comes to rescue her from the cops after she kills her dad:

He's got a smoking gun in his hand and he just shot two people dead, yet we're hard fuckin pressed to find him intimidating aren't we?? Cornball dialogue, and the silliest fuckin hat in the universe, because he's not meant to be from this era, he's emulating the Golden and Silver age comics and all their goofiness. He's trying to be the older, happier, sillier batman that used to exist (at least in his head), while doing what he believes is right and necessary.

The costume makes sense dammit!

Also it just doesn't look bad, I can't provide an argument for this, it's just true!!

Also also every one of these fuckers should be wearing a helmet too, this is basic brain safety, if you're gonna go around antagonizing fuckers with guns you need to make your head at least nominally bulletproof, it's that simple!!!

Now... do I recommend you read this? (This section was rewritten on January 28th, 2024)

Yes, with significant caveats. There's a reason I chunked this in with YMMV.

First is the Batman typical ableism of just really fucked depictions of mental illness. I normally wouldn't warn for this because everyone knows most of the rogues and will be aware of what they bring to the table, but Professor Pyg is obscure enough I wouldn't expect people to know, and the way he's written just... hurts. Like there's just something about him that is painful to read as someone that's got several schizophrenic friends who are near and dear to my heart. I would hesitate to recommend it to any of them the same way I'd hesitate to recommend Silence of the Lambs to most other trans people.

Secondly this comic is Extremely Gay (a definite positive!) however it is Extremely Gay in a way that kinda requires some onboarding and analysis to properly parse and that is actually why this post was edited:

The first time I read this comic, my impression was that it was vitriolically homophobic. Considering that at the time I had heard many things about Grant Morrison, and none of them good, I went with my gut. I put here that while I would defend Jason's characterization, I couldn't in good faith recommend something so bigoted, detailed what felt bigoted, and went on with my day.

Then a while later I saw a post that I suspect was talking about this one saying something along the lines of "How the hell could you call Grant Morrison, who gave us so many of our most iconic gay characters, homophobic? The racism and such I can understand but homophobic? No."

To which my initial response was a resounding: Wha??? Like, genuinely how was I supposed to read this and not get homophobia out of it?? But I went and looked Morrison up and yeah sure enough the guy's queer so I dug deeper and mulled it over until I figured out what the fuck I was missing. So, this section is a correction and an apology about that earlier homophobia claim. Sorry about that.

The styling of this queerness are highly akin to that of the John Waters movie Pink Flamingos which I'll let Matt Baume explain better than I ever could. This guy right here is pretty much the perfect example, Hell, he's even literally named The Flamingo.

Essentially it's queerness is all aggressive, unapologetic, and designed to be provocatively shocking, which can be jarring if you're not ready to flow with it. Also he likely had to arrange a lot of things to get around censorship, same as Judd Winick did. For instance the fact that Dick spoke the same circus lingo as the police precinct destroying troupe of Very Queer Freakshow Workers was meant to imply that Dick is Very Queer too. Pretty sure he would've said that in a far less convoluted way if he could've.

So, with the bulk of my initial reservations about this comic disproven... I have no choice but to straight up recommend it to anyone who thinks they can jive with this vibe of storytelling!

Jason's sanity level: One out of Ten hinges affixed. Obsessive, not taking care of himself, possessed of some really maladaptive trauma coping frameworks, completely unhinged. My condolences to his mental health, but I do love to see it.

Jason's moral compass bearing: Antihero. It's weird because this is undeniably a much darker comic, and Jason certainly feels darker, but in terms of what he actually does, and what the other characters do, his violence is honestly very tame.

So, cards on the table, here is the core of who Jason is to me:

He's got clear moral motives and a drive to help as well as harm, though violence and harm are the main ways in which he tries to improve the world.

When confronted he does not back down; he does not let himself be overshadowed or silenced. He is confident in his decisions and every bit of push back is already accounted for in his head.

Everything he does is premeditated. He is not impulsive. His plans may sometimes be unhinged but they are methodically planned.

He is painfully sincere, the way fire is painfully hot.

He desperately desires love and connection, but it will take many years of constant rejection and fighting before he is willing to accept any kind of compromise to his ethics for the sake of civility.

Under all the hurt and combativeness, he's a pretty goofy guy! He's got a sense of fun and likes to be flamboyant and silly when he can!

He's a villain, a hero, a protagonist, an antagonist, and everything between the extremes. He exists as a powerful counter-thesis to Batman, and as such DC can't ever fully answer the question of what to do with him. He exists in this waffling limbo state as his morals are debated, stretched, refuted, turned on their head. I think that makes him a wonderfully fascinating character to love.

I hope you enjoyed this and, like, go have fun reading comics!

#jason todd #red hood #comic recommendations #Damian's Tomfoolery #dc comics #dc universe #long post

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gffa · 11 months

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Knight Terrors, as a storyline, should be about the things that haunt the characters the most and it's certainly interesting to see what Dick's mind conjures for him--he spends so much of this issue separated away from any other characters he cares about and, the first time I read through it, I was frustrated because I wanted to dig into his relationships with the other characters and I wanted the issue to have something to say about what these nightmares meant to the character. But on second read through, I'm finding it actually pretty interesting--Dick spends the majority of the issue on his own, locked away in Arkham for something he doesn't remember doing (but will eventually, and it's not hard to guess that it's something to do with Batman, that's not a shocking reveal so much as it's an inevitable doom hanging over the issue, which I thought worked really well) and only the briefest moments of his parents crumbling to dust before him, the memory surfacing of having killed Batman, the ending of Babs being consumed by metal as she's dragged past his cell. What does this say about the character? That what really haunts him is isolation from those he loves--he spends the majority of the issue separated from them. That his parents are crumbling into ash in his own mind, he doesn't even recognize them at first under their masks, and then he tries to so gently touch them, but they wither and disappear from him--how long has it been since he saw their faces, does he fear that he's forgotten them, that their memories are little more than dust in his mind, because of how long it's been? That he killed Batman--this can be straightforward and still be interesting, if I was going to put money on any character being able to physically beat Batman in a fight (other than Cass), it would be Dick, because he knows Bruce the most, because he learned from Bruce the longest, because Bruce lets his guard down around Dick, because Dick has won fights with him before. But also in a less straightforward way--how many times has Dick been the one to drag Bruce back from the emotional ledge of darkness, how many times has Dick been the one to save Batman? How many times has Dick said that he needs to prioritize his own missions and his own life over helping Bruce and Gotham? Does he fear that one day he'll stop doing that and be the one that gets Bruce killed because Dick decided living his own life was more important than helping Bruce? And, upon realizing it, he's willing to sacrifice anything of himself to fix it: "First I killed my father. Now they have the woman I love. I don't give a damn if this isn't real. I'll tear this whole place apart, even if it means destroying my own mind in the process." How new and fragile his relationship with Babs must feel, they've danced around each other for so long, they're finally moving forward together again, how much must it haunt him that they'll be ripped apart again, that she'll be taken from him, too? Dick Grayson is someone who thrives on connection with those he loves and putting him into isolation, making his parents' memory barely there, putting his adoptive father's death on his hands, having Babs barely be there to even talk to him, it feels wrong because this is someone who should be chatting away with the people he loves, not feeling stripped of them. This is what haunts Dick Grayson's nightmares--everyone he loves being taken from him, whether through forgetting them, him failing them, or being taken from him. That to really hurt him, you isolate him away from the other characters that he loves so much, that's what breaks him down more than anything.

#lumi.txt #dc #batfam #dick grayson #bruce wayne #barbara gordon #dickbabs #knight terrors: nightwing #tuesday spoilers #long post

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quilna · 2 months

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im not too sure if this is the right account to send this ask to (very sorry if it isnt) but i was curious if youd be willing to chat/ramble about your own personal jekyll and hyde version? i remember having a small talk with you on artfight about your jekyll and hyde version (im dragondog from artfight if youre curious) and my curiosity has been peaked ever since. i need to know more. your own personal jekyll and hyde designs and story seem so interesting but i rarely see you talk about them which i think is just absolutely criminal.

:00000000

The sacred question has been asked - someone has asked about my ocs-

This is a perfectly okay account to ask this to! It's the closest I've got to a Jekyll and Hyde account after all.

Anyway, thank you so much for asking!!! This ask was gnawing at me in a good way for most of the day while I was away from my computer, considering what information to include and how to explain stuff. It was a lot of fun!

I'm also glad you found them interesting!!!

(Also going to say before I start is that my Jekyll and Hyde versions get very self indulgent which is why I usually keep them to myself so some factors about my story might sound rather weird or seem to come out of left field. Just a heads up.)

So I guess the best place to start would probably be with Jekyll and Hyde themselves?

Like the book, the two of them are basically the same person. When Jekyll turns into Hyde and vice versa, nobody 'takes control', it's more like getting high or drunk where they're still the same person but still act quite different or think differently from each other.

However, they do have differing opinions on each other. Hyde, being a less repressed version of Jekyll, understands a lot of Jekyll's emotions better than him. He knows when Jekyll regrets something or cares more than he wants to let on. Though, as much as he can have these realisations, when he turns back into Jekyll, he tends to dismiss them as 'irrational' thoughts brought on by the potion and not worth considering (aka, the repression kicks in and he refuses to entertain any conclusions he came to as Hyde.)

This leads to a lot of frustration and concerns from Hyde. The knowledge that he has to turn back into Jekyll, whereupon anything he's realised about themself, anything that could help them both, will be instantly dismissed by himself the moment he turns back. No matter how much he writes it down or tells it to himself again and again because it's not forgotten, Jekyll just doesn't want to look at it. And he can't just bother Jekyll as a hallucination ghost like most adaptations. When he turns back, Hyde is gone. Like a stain of breath on glass.

This also leads to fear from Hyde towards his alter ego - If Jekyll ever decided the potion wasn't worth his time and threw it away, Hyde would be unable to do anything about it, would be the one throwing it away in fact. He wouldn't be able to scream or protest or anything. And he enjoys being Hyde. It wouldn't really be death but he enjoys being Hyde so much and hates the monotony of Jekyll so much that it would be like a death.

Luckily, Jekyll isn't planning on throwing the potion out because they do feel the same way and Jekyll enjoys taking the potion and being Hyde just as much (even if he would never actually admit that's the reason). The fear is still there though, ever present.

...I've gotten so deep into explaining their relationship that I have not explained anything else yet, whoops.

Both Jekyll and Hyde have some inhuman traits about them since the first transformation. Jekyll has mildly reflective eyes like a cat but it can only be seen in certain lighting so nobody notices. He also moves with a little too much perfection, a little too graceful, a little lacking in the usual human clumsiness.

Hyde, meanwhile, is just very off putting in many ways. For one is his eyes as shown by this diagram that I made for artfight. (Also his teeth, and his insides being green)

His eyes change shape, a bit like a cartoon character. Other people can, in fact, see this and it is, in fact, weird for them. (He can also probably say <3 and everyone else asks how he just did that with his mouth.)

He also changes based on Jekyll's perception of himself and his 'evils'. This means he can get taller or shorter, or become more obviously monstrous or go back to just being a guy with an uneasy feel about him just based on Jekyll's opinions. If Jekyll starts to fear Hyde and view him as a threat, Hyde changes physically to reflect this.

Personality-wise, Jekyll likes to keep control over every aspect of his life, creating perfect schedules for everything that he's going to do in a day, timing each event down to the minute, designing contingencies in case anything unexpected happens. He can be friendly enough to other people for the sake of his image but he still comes across as rather cold and distant.

Hyde, meanwhile, is obviously free of all this and does whatever he pleases. He tends to be loyal and loving, to the point of being a little too obsessed, and is exceedingly open about how he's feeling. He's also incredibly truthful - he almost never lies about anything but will often fae-rule his way out of anyone realising the real truth. For example, he's very open about being Doctor Jekyll but nobody believes him because he'll just drop it into a conversation and won't elaborate or will elaborate in a way that just sounds even more like a lie. And, of course, Jekyll himself will obviously deny it, so...

Besides that, Jekyll keeps three lab rats, Noir, Spot, and Rose who, due to the potion being used on them, can also change shape like Jekyll and Hyde. As such, Hyde tends to take them with him when he goes out.

(Also, smaller headcanon but Hyde tends to repeat words or phrases twice, "Indeed indeed", "What? What?", etc. Just seemed like a fun addition.)

Next, Lanyon.

Lanyon and Jekyll are on weird terms because they had a fight years back. After seeing Jekyll's science get more and more dangerous over the years, Lanyon was afraid that he would some day hurt himself in a way he couldn't take back or even die from it. After trying to convince Jekyll to stop for ages, Lanyon finally put their foot down and said that, if Jekyll didn't stop, they would leave.

Both Jekyll and Lanyon deeply regret the argument but neither of them can take it back. Jekyll is too stubborn to admit that he was ever in the wrong and Lanyon can't take it back because then they don't have anything else to hold over Jekyll's head to get him to stop.

At least, that was how the fight was initially.

After the potion was taken, Lanyon, who was very close to Jekyll's mad science experiments and was very used to seeing the signs that Jekyll had done something to himself, was the only person who noticed the change. Seeing Jekyll's new changes terrified Lanyon deeply because he knew Jekyll had done something but he didn't know what. Being a rather skittish person, Lanyon was too scared to speak to Jekyll after that, doing all they could to avoid him.

Maybe things could have continued that way with the two avoiding each other. However, after the fight, Lanyon came out as genderfluid.

They had been meddling with their own gender before in quiet but the fight basically gave Lanyon the midlife crisis moment they needed to go "You know what? I don't care about anyone's opinions. I've seen what caring about ones image did to Jekyll and I don't want to be anything like that."

And so came Hastie and Hattie, two names for the same person, just using different pronouns and names based on what Lanyon felt like at the time.

Jekyll, however, was avoiding hearing anything about Lanyon and completely missed this massive piece of information. Jekyll is also notably, very wrapped up in his own very small world and opinions (also, no internet). He has no idea that transness is a thing.

Hence, Jekyll believes that Hastie and Hattie are not the same person but, instead, brother and sister. Lanyon, meanwhile, who was so open and so gossiped about when they first came out, doesn't even realise that anyone could??? not know????? that they're the same?????? Everyone else knows! They don't even look that different!

This all cumulates in one fateful night where Lanyon, going by Hattie, and Hyde meet. The two of them get along like a house on fire, neither caring much for society's rules and both of them being in some way being shunned for their peculiarities. Hyde is much more outgoing and often pushes Lanyon outside of their comfort zone while Lanyon is more level-headed and can often do the planning and thinking that Hyde neglects to keep them both safe.

All the while, Hyde has no idea that he's talking to Hastie and Lanyon has no idea that they're talking to Jekyll.

Personality-wise Lanyon tends to be very down-to-earth and prefers to do things by the book for the most part. Though this is only for the most part - in terms of dealing with other people, Lanyon gets much more expressive, dressing wildly and often doing strange things like taking live geese into a dinner party. While this does allow them to express themselves in some ways that are beneficial to them, like becoming comfortable with their gender identity, some of these behaviours, like the live geese in the dinner party, are very much a way to push away the people around them, afraid of something going wrong after their experiences with Jekyll.

Until they meet Hyde, Utterson is their only friend (which Utterson is quite concerned about, often trying to encourage Lanyon to make more friends.)

Besides that, Lanyon is fond of gardening, collecting crystals, astrology, and yoga. They dabble with a lot of relaxation stuff like chamomile tea, incense, lavender, etc.

Utterson, meanwhile, tends to be the most calm and collected out of the three of them, seemingly unbothered by most of what life throws at him and good at handling even the most stressful situations with ease. Not to mention, he has the most unexpected range of skills and knowledge. Whenever anyone has a problem, he's the number one person to go to for help.

However, for the most part, he fades into the background and tends to remain forgotten until someone needs him for something which leaves him lonely and often desperate for attention while being unable to get it. His work as a lawyer allows him to get fleeting amounts of attention, but it's not quite enough and that often leaves him vulnerable to falling in with bad people.

While Lanyon sees straight through Jekyll, Utterson has fallen quite a bit into seeing Jekyll as innocent and naïve, someone who doesn't fully understand how cruel the world can be and needs to be protected from it. This means, when Hyde shows up and Jekyll changes his will for him, Utterson is quite quickly defensive of Jekyll and aggressive towards Hyde, believing that Hyde has nothing but bad intentions. Hyde, however, is quite head-over-heels for Utterson and determined to seduce him or at least set him up with Jekyll.

While Utterson appears unaffected by anything that crosses his path, this is actually because he has difficulty expressing his emotions, his expression and tone generally remaining static. Only people close to him can generally tell what he's thinking and feeling as a result.

Personality-wise, Utterson is generally quite kindly and generous, often seen giving food and money to the homeless. Though, his morality can be a bit of a roulette wheel at times, willing to do questionable things at times if he deems it for a good enough cause.

In terms of hobbies, he will often bake things for his friends and carried the three of them through university as the only one who could actually cook. He also has a slightly more morbid interest in taxidermy and keeps a room in his house for his work.

(For another smaller headcanon, he and Lanyon tend to get into pun fights, much to Jekyll's agony.)

Then there's Lenore Carew (aka, Lisa Carew, she just got renamed along the way). She makes up the third member of Hyde's little friendship squad with Lanyon. An excitable lady with an interest in the occult and monsters. She and Jekyll were once set to be married but, due to a mutual realisation that neither liked the other in that way, they broke it up. Jekyll has been avoiding her ever since, finding the situation awkward, but Hyde is very much down to be friends with her again.

While she does her best to live up to her family name, being as much of a respectable and graceful lady as she can be, in her spare time she'll often sneak out to go running after whatever haunted house or cryptid sighting she's heard of lately.

The actual reason for her interest is because her mother, before she died, was a prophet, gifted with Sight and Lenore, raised with all these stories of her grandeur and powers, is determined to find a way to awaken those same powers in herself.

However, along the way, these powers actually do start to manifest and, as it turns out, a lot scarier and more difficult to control than she ever realised.

Most particularly, sometimes when she looks at Jekyll, she sees something - or someone - else in his place. She has no idea what these visions mean, whether it's a vision from the future, from the past, or something else entirely.

Personality-wise, while she can excitable and often gets ahead of herself, she can be very kind and compassionate towards others, always the first to slow down and check if someone is okay or to offer a hug to those in need. She can also often show a childish side, enjoying stuffed toys, getting along well with kids, or just playing games.

Uh, so anyway, there's a bunch more but this post is getting long and I've taken all day with this. If I take much longer, it's going to look like I'm not going to answer. I think this is the stuff that most people would be interested in anyway, Lanyon, Utterson, Jekyll, and Hyde. I'm still missing out an explanation of the worldbuilding itself and the antagonists, not to mention little details and side characters like Poole and such.

I fool around with these characters a lot and that means there's more information than I even remember most of the time until something pops into my head and I go "Ohhhh that plot point. That was fun."

Thank you again for the ask!!!!

#quilna's asks #Quilna's ocs #My art

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fincalinde · 1 year

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for your ask meme: wei wuxian?? 👀

Since I've got some new followers over the past couple of days (who knew what branching out from Xiyao would do for my reputation!), I'll once again add the disclaimer that I write MDZS meta and not CQL meta. I'm aware that in CQL, WWX is characterised somewhat differently. I have thoughts on that too, but I'm not immersed enough in CQL to commit to sharing them publicly.

Since WWX is the main character and appears in almost every scene, I won't attempt to write a thesis statement on him. (You cannot afford my hourly rate.) Instead I've decided to focus on an aspect of WWX that I feel is often overlooked or sanitised. That is to say:

WWX is extremely annoying.

He's not just irritating, or overly exuberant, or a touch too arrogant. He is infuriatingly obnoxious.

Obviously WWX is also brave and often well-meaning. He loves deeply, even if he consistently lets down the people who care about him. He's strong-willed enough to abide by his own sense of morality in the face of overwhelming disapproval and danger, and arrogant enough to make unilateral decisions when it would be better for all concerned if he took a step back. He's bad at big picture thinking and rarely considers the full ramifications of his actions, but he's also incredibly adept at getting out of scrapes, and he has an admirable if also somewhat depressing ability to shrug off pain and suffering that is the result of his difficult days on the streets and his mistreatment by YZY.

And he's obnoxious.

I do think it often gets forgotten, because Wangxian is intended to be a love story and it's much more tempting to write sweeping romance and charming banter than hark back to all the canonical moments in which characters, including LWJ, genuinely want to throttle him to death.

He never shuts up! He's constantly laughing far too loudly and for too long. He's the sort of person who thinks it's funny to pull the rug out from under someone in a conversation so they end up discomfited and embarrassed. I fully understand that a large part of his hectoring LWJ is a precursor to his later romantic interest and is in line with his flirtation style, but the fact remains that he goads LWJ beyond the point of endurance on multiple occasions. LWJ just happens to be a weird dude who's really into it.

A good example of what I mean is when Wangxian encounter each other at Phoenix Mountain. WWX asks LWJ if he's ever kissed someone, then proceeds to speculate that LWJ has never been kissed and will never be kissed. LWJ doesn't seem to mind this at first, and only becomes angered when WWX lies about having been kissed before himself (oh LWJ), but it's important to remember that WWX has no idea that LWJ has any interest in him whatsoever. From WWX's perspective, he's just having fun belittling someone else over a topic that for most young people is a sensitive one. I don't want to oversell this moment and claim that it's bullying, actually, but I do want to use it to highlight that WWX is not always a considerate person and this type of behaviour is teeth-achingly thoughtless and cringeworthy.

I could go on, but if you pick any given scene including WWX you're likely to see dialogue in which he's being actively annoying to other characters, intentionally or otherwise. This isn't an attack on him, just an observation that in order to write him in a canon consistent manner he should be not just witty and chatty in a way where other characters simply roll their eyes and keep going. He should genuinely actually aggravate them and it should have consequences within the scene. Characters such as JC and WQ care about WWX but also find him infuriating, and that's with good reason—never mind the juniors, whom WWX takes pleasure in messing with. There are many characters who feel great respect and affection for WWX, and every single one of them also regularly feels deep frustration and irritation towards him too. There should be some meat on the bones of any back and forth between them.

#ask #thatswhatsushesaid #roquen meta #i consider wwx an extremely difficult character to write #capturing this aspect of him without alienating your audience #is quite the tightrope #it's not surprising that it's often watered down #or just generally made more palatable

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gumnut-logic · 1 month

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Talk No.1 (Bit 2)

Alexander Sweetapple series | Talk - No. 1 - Bit 1 , Bit 2

Here is some more :D I was willing and ready to keep writing but I have work today ::pouts::

I hope you enjoy.

-o-o-o-

The morning sunlight was glaring but warming in the cold brisk air. Around him the Māhia facility was a buzz of activity, mostly workmen hammering and hollering at each other as the new labs facility emerged where his former workspace had crumbled. It was an energising atmosphere. Change, for good or bad, was still change, and it offered new points of view and new inspiration.

And, of course, it didn’t hurt to return to Māhia with such a big change in his own life.

In all honesty, he was just really happy.

He trotted across the grounds towards the main offices, at one point glancing off in the direction of the landing strip to see if he could spot a Thunderbird.

No such luck, so he guessed Mr Tracy…Scott…had arrived in one of their private jets. He briefly wondered why he had dropped in and why he wanted to see Alex. Virgil had called him last night, with only a hint of checking up on him. He was learning that Tracys were much like Tracy Industries, a bunch of caring people who did their best to look after those close to them.

Close.

He grinned a little goofily.

He was close to Virgil Tracy.

It was with that wonderful thought that had him almost skipping into the offices and down the hall to Tia’s.

He was brought up short, however, when instead of finding Tia’s PA seated outside, another familiar and efficient woman sat there instead.

“Hello, Mr Sweetapple. It is nice to see you again.” Carly, Mr Tracy’s PA, smiled at him knowingly.

Well, it seemed knowingly. There was a sparkle in her eye that just said, ‘I know what you’ve been up to, Mr Sweetapple’. Whether she approved or not was not clear, but she knew.

Everything.

“Hi.”

“Mr Tracy is finishing up with the Director. Please take a seat and he’ll be with you in a moment.”

Alex blinked. This was the first time he’d seen Mr Tracy in a formal setting since leaving Tracy Island. On Tracy Island, Scott appeared to shed the ‘Mr Tracy’ persona and relaxed.

Alex had seen him joking and laughing, messing with his youngest brother’s hair, and there may have been a prank involving blue shampoo and Gordon.

To be honest, Alex wasn’t sure if Scott had been the victim or the perpetrator. After all, Gordon had also ended up with blue hair and because he was blond, the blue stood out much more than what had taken to the few silver hairs Scott sported.

That morning had been interesting. A little eye opening to see both brothers running around in towels yelling at each other - the athleticism had definitely been an eyeful. It had taken Mrs Tracy to bring the ruckus to a halt. Alex’s mum had been giggling so much, a presence the two Tracy men had obviously forgotten and there was a lot of red face to match the blue hair.

Alex himself had been curled up on the sofa with both his breakfast and Virgil, and had kept quiet in order to not remind them of his existence. Though his eyes had nearly fallen out of his head in the process.

The situation was not one he thought he would ever encounter.

Virgil had just rolled his eyes and smiled at Alex, probably at Alex’s expression, and kept on eating.

Let’s just say that Scott Tracy at home was vastly different to Scott Tracy in a professional capacity.

He swallowed and settled into the chair as Carly returned to doing whatever it was she was doing with her tablet.

Alex tried his best not to wear the corner of his tablet cover off with his fidgeting.

TBC

#thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds #thunderbirds fanfiction #alexander sweetapple #scott tracy #nuttyfic #he gets there eventually :D

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howtobecomeadragon · 2 years

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I think there's some really interesting stuff going on with the language used between Mike and El and Mike and Will. Namely: yes's, no's, and not giving or receiving an answer to questions.

I started thinking about this in relation to Mike and El post-reunion in s4, so I'll cover that first, and then go into Mike and El vs Mike and Will throughout the seasons for their big moments.

Immediately upon reuniting, El is giving Mike a firm no. She doesn't like that he's not hearing her and the importance of what she's saying.

Mike asks several questions here, even prefacing them with saying that it's an important question. Now obviously he's joking around, but it's so weird that El doesn't answer him once. She is giggling, she is smiling, but she's not giving him an answer and changes the subject instead of giving him a yes.

Mike gives El a no here: she wants him to do something, try the pizza, and he gives a firm no. He's not willing to try something new with/for her. She then pairs up with Argyle to force him to eat the pizza.

Mike continues to ask if she can hear him before saying he loves her, but once again she doesn't give him an answer. Obviously she's being choked and is likely not able to easily vocalize a response (if at all). But he knows that she can hear him. Earlier in the scene, she was speaking and answering questions.

He knows she can hear him, but he's asking anyway. Because he's scared for her safety and wants reassurance that she's okay, but the absolute excess of asking SEVEN times if she can hear him is strange, especially considering that the dialogue could've been written to have Mike ask something else repeatedly that would've made more sense within the context of Mike JUST caring for her safety: "Are you okay? Please answer if you're safe. What's going on? Can we help you?" All good options that would've made just as much sense as him asking if she can HEAR HIM repeatedly. Which of course calls back to the s3 "I love her" where El was out of the room, but did hear him and only let him know she'd heard him 3 months later, at which point Mike faked that he had forgotten and was uncomfortable at the idea of saying it again.

Later on in this scene, we see Mike and Will once more, and I don't see these scenes talked about often. This is after Max has died, after the gates open, before El saves Max.

El can wake up, she could answer him, but she's deciding not to as she's grieving Max, and decides that she's going to do what she can to try to save Max. Mike is again speaking and asking for a response but not getting one. Not blaming El here at all, but this is the third time we've seen this in one episode. It's a theme. El doesn't want to engage Mike in what he has to say or ask.

The next line of dialogue after Mike says "Wake up" is El saying "No." El is saying this to Max, but it is interesting, again, how we get another no from El almost responding to Mike here. He can't tell her what to do, he can't tell her to move on, he can't make her decisions for her. This is also paired with El saying "you're not going" to Max, which also pairs nicely with the flashback we see of Max saying that they make their own rules.

And El speaks here, in this space of spying, and I'm not sure the details of how El can project her voice to actually speaking from her physical body vs keeping her voice in the spying plane, but the assumption is that she's not speaking out loud, this is a private moment where El decides to speak.

I just think it's so interesting how often in these few short scenes of dialogue between the two, there's no yes's, there's no verbal agreement, they're not on the same page. El is actively ignoring Mike's questions and is shown to not answer him repeatedly even though she can hear him. And of course, they don't exchange any dialogue at all in the epilogue.

And so I went on to look at some of the bigger scenes and moments between El and Mike, and Will and Mike, to see how often we get yes's, no's, or if we don't get a response at all. And it's interesting. Coming soon!!!

El and Mike, post reunion in s4, El and Mike, s1-2, El and Mike, s3-s4, Will and Mike

#byler #el's indepence arc #el hopper #mike wheeler

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reasonandempathy · 3 months

Note

how can you reblog a Zionist post criticizing people who support Palestine for allowing themselves to be harmed in an effort to support Palestine (https://www.tumblr.com/reasonandempathy/743584944850354176/politics-is-fucking-soul-churning-it-really-is) while also seeming to respect Aaron Bushnell, who made the ultimate sacrifice in an effort to support Palestine? is it so unthinkable that people would be willing to act against their own interest to stop a genocide?

TLDR; that post isn't denying people can self-sacrifice to stop a genocide. That post is about taking the broader context into perspective, and remembering that Trump Is Still So Much Worse, so you should vote against him.

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

Was thinking about this one, actually.

Didn't know the person's broader political views until checking them out, and while it's important context for that person individually, but the post at large still, broadly, stands.

There is, undoubtedly, an aspect of political discourse that promotes people who would vote for Biden to stay home or vote for someone not Biden and not Trump, rooted in (to a much lesser extent than Bushnell, who was being compelled to be an active participant) not wanting to be complicit in that genocide.

What I took to be the main thrust of that post was to point out the unfortunately very, very real dynamic of not helping Biden win would, objectively, be worse for everyone including Palestinians if Trump wins. And in a truly, honestly Binary choice between D or R, there is a correct choice to make. It's Biden.

The first few paragraphs of that post are basic "don't be selective with your care." Which is true.

The rape of Israeli women, the Jewish Diaspora, The various tortures and war crimes inflicted by Hamas and the Houthis are not things to be forgotten nor supported. The world is fucking complicated and "Good Guys" are in incredibly short supply, but "Hooray Huthis" is what I'd call an incredibly fraught tightrope to walk.

----------

The main thrust of that post, though, is referring to people who know Trump is worse and have done extensive work broadcasting that Trump is, objectively, Worse for Palestinians. Worse for Women. Worse for the LGBTQ community. Worse for Non-Christians. Worse for BIPOC. It's pretty simple and reasonable to think that if Trump was in the White House he would find some way to be even worse right now than Biden is being.

But they still can't endorse or support Biden. Who is definitely horrible, but also objectively the better of the 2 options we have.

Which is why I said Politics is soul-churning. Because it is. Because, outside of any actual plan to get anyone else into the White House, it is objectively Better for the people I care about.

My fiance.

My friends.

My extended family.

My Neighbors.

My trade union (though I haven't been in it for a few years).

My city.

My values.

It is objectively Better for Biden to be in power than Trump, which, again, is the only realistic alternative to Trump. But it does mean voting for the guy. And, yeah, I'm in NY (not a secret). Maybe I could vote for the Justice Party or the Green Party or something else.

But I can't assume nobody else will do that, and ceding what small influence I have (.000008% of Biden's popular vote in 2020) to actually help people to instead assuage my personal beliefs is putting my comfort over that small, minuscule, but very Real influence in being able to help people.

I...have blood on my hands. (broadly) We all do. I just want to add less to it.

#original content #politics #genocide #israel #ask #personal #trump #biden #2024 election #civics

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hogwartsandhawkins · 11 months

Text

Prove Me Wrong

Chapter 7: Pancakes and Meatloaf

Prove Me Wrong Masterlist

Summary: Billy meets Jess's cat, has dinner with her family, and seems to have a fine day, but Neil makes sure to ruin it.

Warnings: Neil making an appearance again. Child abuse. Mentions of hitting/slapping. Physical harm. Mental and verbal abuse. Threatening. Swearing. Please let me know if I missed anything. Also, not proofread.

Word Count: 5.6k

Author's note: This chapter goes out to my kitty, Waffle, who recently passed away. He was my homeboy since 5th grade, and though I renamed him in this pic considering the Stranger Things universe already had its own eggo enthusiast, he will always be my #1 waffle lover.

As always, eff Neil.

Jess dreaded the next morning, as she was convinced she needed to spend less time with Hargrove than she had allowed herself the past four days. Has it really only been four days? This realization made her even more disgusted with herself. She just needed time away from him, that was it. Then everything would be back to normal. Back to how it should be. But when she walked out of her house, towards the blue Camero, four muffins in hand, Billy made it quite difficult to ignore him, as she intended on doing the rest of the day.

“Hey there, gorgeous.” She willed herself not to smile softly as she would have a few days ago, and simply distributed the muffins evenly, not making a sound as she lowered herself into the passenger seat. “You eat already, Logan?” He was now teasing her, as she had forgotten to feed herself just yesterday. Instead of answering him with words, she simply nodded her head and then proceeded to look out the passenger window. Billy only looked at her for a moment, taking notice of how she shifted herself away from him. “Alright.”

He took his time driving this morning, not speeding to their shared campus as he normally did. The music was not as loud and instead acted as background noise to the awkward silence of their ride to school. Max also seemed to sense something was off, as she shifted uncomfortably in the middle seat and made it a point not to give Billy any shit this morning. When the car was parked, Max wasted no time with her getaway. Not leaving enough time for Jess to unbuckle herself and exit first, Max climbed over the middle console as she did yesterday, and left using the passenger door, leaving it open for Jess. She saw this as an opportunity to leave as well, but when she finally released the seatbelt and began to step out, Billy stopped her, grasping at her elbow bend, careful not to hold on too hard, allowing her to break free if she needed. “You good?”

“Yup. See you later, Hargrove.” The way she answered told him otherwise, but he didn’t push further, considering they were now at school, with a potential audience if things went south. He chalked it up to her still being stressed over derivatives and didn’t put it passed her to have picked up her notebook last night and continue studying, even when Billy advised her to rest.

She’s just tired. And he was right, she was tired, but not because she had spent the whole night studying, but instead, spent the whole night thinking about him, thinking about everything he has done and said, every smile she had received from him these past few days, which ones were fake, and which ones were genuine. She had dissected everything that went on between the two of them, looking for any hint of insincerity, sure she would find something, and when she didn’t, it drove her even more mad, coming to the conclusion that she was delusional.

“Yeah, see you.” He said too late, she was already closing the door as the words were forced out of his mouth. His eyes followed her as she raced toward Steve, who seemed to be always waiting for her. Just for her. He took a long drag from a now-lit cigarette and finally broke his gaze from the pair to a different group, Tommy Hagen and Carol Perkins, who also seemed interested in the previous pair Billy was just spying on. Carol seemed to be nudging Tommy, pointing meaningfully at Jess as she whispered, causing Tommy’s eyes to widen and nod in what looked like agreeance to Billy. Sighing, he took one last drag of his cigarette and ashed it in his tray where he left the remaining half for later.

As he began to walk toward the two, Carol quickly closed the gap between the two, making sure she informed Billy of what she just realized. “Looks like Tommy was right after all,” is all she said at first, believing Billy would clue into whatever the hell they were talking about based on that one sentence.

“What?”

“Your little girlfriend is wearing Harrington’s sweater, how cute.” Tommy now chimed in, which was enough to jog his memory of their conversation last Friday morning. This caused him to snap his head back over to the two a bit harsher than he calculated, which he hoped his friends didn’t notice. He didn’t take it for someone else’s at first, as it fit her perfectly, slightly loose, but not by any means baggy. It was a blue-green raglan sweater, seams visible only at the shoulders, and now looking at it, the arms were much longer than they should be on her, while she seemed to stretch the chest out slightly. In other words, it most likely wasn’t hers. The left side of his mouth ticked downward, as he scrunched his nose and cleared his throat, spitting unnecessarily to the right of his stance.

“Bitch ain’t my girlfriend.” He then began to head toward the building’s entrance, interested in leaving with or without Hagen and Perkins, but of course, they followed him.

“I’m throwing a party at my place Friday,” Carol piped up, already bored of the prior topic, something Billy was grateful for. “Parents are going on some holiday skiing trip. You in?” He simply grunted in response. Of course he was in.

“Cool, later.” And with that, she left the two boys, probably eager to spread the news of her having the house to herself this weekend. As she went from person to person, requesting them to “tell everyone” while dodging those that, according to her, didn’t need to come, Carol spotted her next target.

Jess’s locker suddenly slammed shut, Carol Perkin’s hand stretched across the door.

“Carol…”

“Mrs. Harrington. My, you look super cute today.” Carol was now fingering her, or rather, Steve’s sweater, smiling knowingly.

“What are you going on about?” Jess was already walking away from her locker, eager to get to her first period.

“So, what is going on with you and Harrington?”

“You’re out of touch, Carol.”

“Not my fault someone doesn’t keep me in the loop anymore.” When Jess decidedly ignored this comment, Carol continued, “I’m having a party this Friday, or are you too cool to come?”

“Yeah, right, like you want me there.”

“Hey, you stopped hanging with us, or do you not remember?” Carol was now blocking Jess’s walking path, seemingly knowing the pathway she needed to take to her first period, looking annoyed and, surprisingly, hurt, an emotion she only showed briefly before shaking it away entirely. Again, Jess said nothing, so Carol continued, moving out of her way so that they could walk side by side, as they used to when walking to class. “You know, I figured it was your bible-thumping weirdos that made you quit hanging out, since we’re ‘bad influences’, but apparently, it turns out you don’t exactly hang out with them either.”

“What’s your point, Carol?”

“Seems like Steve Harrington is the only good enough friend for you. I mean, he must be since you’ve completely isolated yourself from everyone else.” Jess wished that this was the case, that for some reason, she’d randomly decided that Steve Harrington would be her only friend, that she was choosing to cut off everyone else. That would have made it easier. The truth was, she tried this year, really tried to go back to normal, as nothing different happened. That Hawkins was just Hawkins, that she wasn’t burdened by this incredible secret. And then it happened again. All. Over. Again. And there were only a few people she didn’t have to pretend with. Carol Perkins wasn’t one of them. And after what happened between her, Tommy, and Steve last year, it seemed there was no use trying again.

“I’ll be there,” is what Jess was able to muster up, unwilling and unable to confront the current topic.

Carol looked her up and down. “Wear something cute, you’re better than this. And tell Harrington.” Their shoulders softly brushed against each other as Carol turned around to walk in the opposite direction, and Jess was once again alone in a crowded hallway.

Fourth-period practice was awful. As expected, Alicia did leave a detailed note of yesterday’s after-school practice, and Coach was not happy. Not happy at all.

---

“Since SOME OF YOU are uninterested in our SCHEDULED afternoon practices, looks like we’ll ALL be having an unscheduled one this afternoon. I hope you girls like running because you’ll be doing A LOT of it after school.” As they were currently in the gym, the boys, who pretended they weren’t paying attention, heard every last word. Some snickers were exchanged at the girls’ expense, causing some dirty looks to get thrown the boys’ way.

By the end of practice, they were a sweaty mess, Coach not easing up on their current practice either, practically pushing them passed their limits as punishment. Showers and reapplication of makeup were in order for many of the girls, causing them to take longer coming out of the gym than the boys this time around. Billy left the locker room after Steve, who was already waiting outside the gym doors for Jess, Jason and Patrick making small talk with him while they waited. Billy eyed the three boys, sticking his left hand in his jean pocket, running his right hand through his hair, and then began cracking his knuckles with his thumb. Steve stared at him apprehensively, considering he was normally long gone by now, walking to the cafeteria. Just then Chrissy walked through the doors and turned to Steve, who was now looking at her, “She’s almost done.” As if on cue, Jess came through the doors, hair now thrown in the same banana clip as last night.

As Steve began to open his mouth, Billy beat him to the punch, “Hey, Logan.” Steve shot his head in Billy’s direction, unsure he heard that right. Jess also seemed caught off guard, but gave Steve a quick look, telling him “One minute”, and walked over to Billy.

“Yeah?” She whispered this question, not meaning to be so quiet. Jess swiftly looked over her shoulder, and then back at Billy. Steve and the rest were barely out of earshot, causing Billy to also lower his voice, though not as much as Jess.

“You still need a ride, right?”

“Uhh.” Jess had yet to think about how her extra, unplanned practice was going to affect her after-school plans. “If you can’t it’s okay, I’m sure Steve-“

“I’ll be in the car. Don’t run too slow, Logan.” He then looked back over at Steve, who had yet to take his eyes off him, and nodded at him slightly, causing Steve to squint his eyes defensively. With that, Billy then walked in the direction of the cafeteria.

Confused as to why he couldn’t have waited till their 6th or 7th period to go over their plans, she stood there for a moment, watching Billy walk away from her. Her gaze slipped away when she felt Steve standing right next to her. “What was that all about?”

“Just letting me know I still had a ride, I guess?” This made Steve cross his arms, now both of them looking in Hargrove's direction again.

Patrick, unaware of any tension, was now becoming impatient. “So are we eating or what?”

---

“If you don’t make it in eighteen minutes, you’ll be running it AGAIN.”

All the girls were dressed in their matching cheer sweatsuits, as it was much too cold for their regular attire, running around the track. Jess was nearing the end of her two-mile, feeling her right knee close to giving out. It began to tighten, making bending it nearly impossible, let alone putting weight on it. Only one lap left. She began hobbling slightly, pulling the right pants leg along with every step to be sure she would not have to endure another eighteen minutes of absolute hell. She was one of the only girls left on the track, which was, as always, disheartening. She hated the tightness she felt in her chest when she ran and always wondered if the other girls felt the same way. As she was rounding the last corner, she happened to look over at the bleachers, and to her horror, Billy Hargrove was leaning against them. She sprinted the last 100 meters, dragging her right leg with the same side arm.

“17:46. I expect a faster time from my co-captains.” But, at this moment, Jess didn’t care. All she wanted was her second shower of the day and to finally be able to stretch out her knee. As she was exiting the track gate, Hargrove began moving toward her, smirk growing as she watched her shuffle away.

“Jesus, Jess, looks like you’re falling apart.” He then nodded at her leg, continuing to eye her injury as she limped. “You get that from cheer?”

“Nuh-uh, it’s older. Happened when I was a kid.” But when Billy began to open his mouth to ask what happened, she turned toward the back gym entrance, “I really need a shower, I’ll meet you at your car.”

Jess quickly showered off what remained from her run, and quickly threw her still-wet hair up in the scrunchy that was previously holding her hair back. She threw on for the third time today Steve’s blue sweater and her own 401 jeans, quickly retied her old Nikes, and exited the locker room, heading toward the front parking lot entrance, bag swung haphazardly over her right shoulder.

When she peeled the glass door open, she saw Billy leaning against the driver’s side, cigarette lit. He didn’t seem to notice her exit at first, and instead, was focused on the pavement. It was only when he heard the scuffing of her shoes did he look, slightly frowning when he took in her outfit.

He flicked his red down and stomped it out, motioning his nod to the passenger door, which Jess figured meant “get in”. Billy turned the key over but didn’t speed off the way he normally did, looking out at the now abandoned student lot, with the exception of a few cars. He kept his eyes forward before starting back to the conversation before school. “What was with you this morning.” He didn’t state it as a question, he didn’t want her to lie to him again, didn’t want to leave room for her to. He knew something was different, being able to look back at yesterday morning and not recognize who entered his car this morning. Or rather, he did recognize this morning’s version, but it was the same girl that had met him on Sunday afternoon, and the same girl who avoided him every day before their shared project.

“What do you mean?” Jess gave Billy a look of mock confusion, but her eyes gave her away, which were more aggressive than usual as if she were annoyed they were again having this conversation.

“You seemed off, but what do I know, right?” Jess only shrugged, causing Billy to nod his head in disappointment and peel out of the parking spot he occupied. They drove in silence for a moment, no music playing in the background this time. Jess stared out at the now bare trees, their leaves now covering the grass and paved roads. She then peaked at Billy, who was caught looking at her but didn’t turn away when he was realized, only glancing in front of him when he needed to watch the road.

“Billy, I’m just tired alright? You don’t need to be all weird about it.”

“Oh, I’m being weird.” He smiled teasingly at Jess but stopped when she didn’t return the gesture. “You hear about Carol’s party?” When Jess nodded, he continued to ask, “You goin’?”

“I mean, I said I would, so probably.”

“You tell Harrington?”

“Yeah, I told him in Spanish.”

“He takin’ you?” Billy only looked out at the road when he asked, wanting to seem uninterested in the answer, that they were just making small talk. But an unspoken question lingered in his tone, a question that stayed with Billy for the remainder of the day after realizing whose clothes you were wearing.

“I’m sure he would if I asked,” Jess answered this way, giving Billy an out, allowing him to be able to arrive by himself as he always did and take whatever girl home, as he, also, always did.

“I’m sure he would.” His statement was stiffened with skepticism. Though wanting to offer her a ride instead, he decided he wouldn’t, as he was beginning to question whether he was starting to look desperate to be around her, and Billy Hargrove was never desperate.

They finally pulled into her driveway, Billy immediately turning out the key once the car was parked. “We got a lot of studying to do if you’re gonna get that ‘B’ on Friday.” And with that, he exited, already heading toward the doorway.

The smell of meatloaf hit both Jess and Billy as soon as the front door was pulled open, causing Jess’s growling stomach to become audible to those close to her, which wasn’t surprising due to the extra amount of “activity” forced onto her by her coach.

As if reading her mind, Mrs. Logan shouted from the kitchen, “You kids hungry? Dinner’s just about done!” Jess looked over to Billy, unsure if he was willing to eat with her family, as this was unmarked territory for the both of them, having Billy share a meal with both of her parents.

Billy looked down at Jess and coolly replied to her look of concern. “I could eat.” Before sitting at the dining table, Billy went over to Mrs. Logan and offered to help bring any dishes to the table, which made Jess watch them carefully, unwilling to have what happened the first time he met her mother happen again. But the offer seemed genuine enough that Jess allowed herself to look away and place her bag by the edge of the steps, ready for her to pick up and ascend to her room when it was time. She offered to take Billy’s bag as well, placing it near hers when he handed it to her.

When Billy joined Jess at the table empty-handed, she assumed that her mother shooed him away, not allowing their guest to help, as she barely allowed her husband to help in the kitchen. He kept staring at the placemat in front of him, unsure of what to do next. His hands fidgeted with one another underneath the table. He was unwilling to admit it, but her was nervous, to say the least. He couldn’t remember the last time he sat at the dinner table with his own family, let alone someone else's. His mind eased, however, when he heard a familiar purring at his feet. There was the same cat, an overweight, orange tabby, who was now rubbing against his leg, seemingly begging for attention. “Hey there big guy.”

“His name’s Pancake. Because when I first got him, he literally stole a whole pancake from me.”

“Makes sense, he’s definitely shaped like one.”

Jess elbowed the side of his left arm. “Leave Pancake alone. He’s a good boy, aren’t you, Pancake?” As if he understood, he sent a tiny “meow” in her direction.

“Alrighty, soup’s on!” Mr. Logan was now placing a narrow dish, recently out of the oven, in front of the two teenagers, making sure to place a flat oven mitt underneath first. Mrs. Logan then followed behind with a bowl full of homemade mashed potatoes, complete with garlic butter and a hint of parsley for color.

“This smells and looks great, Mrs. Logan, thanks.”

“Oh, you can call me Beverly.”

“Or you can keep calling her Mrs. Logan, that’s fine too,” Jess said under her breath, eyeing Billy knowingly.

Mrs. Logan was too busy setting up the table to hear her disapproving comment, but Billy wasn’t, and to mess with her he responded, “Well then thank you, Beverly.” He then suddenly felt a strong kick underneath the table, effortlessly striking his shin. As he grimaced, a loud “REOWW” was heard, with Pancake disappearing into the living room.

“You kids all right?”

“Yeah Mom, I think Billy just scared him.” She now turned her attention to Billy, “I’d be careful around Pancake, he isn’t declawed.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” He returned sarcastically.

As both her parents took their seats, Jess habitually bowed her head, but the Logan’s normal routine of saying grace was replaced by a casual “dig in”, which caused Jess to give her mother a questioning look.

“We have a guest.” Jess quickly nodded and did as she was told, grateful she didn’t have to wait any longer to fill her stomach.

Everything tasted how it looked, delicious. And after many forkfuls of his own food, Mr. Logan began to ask questions about their shared assignments. “How’s the reading coming along?”

Jess took it upon herself to answer all the questions, which Billy was thankful for, not knowing how long he would have been able to keep conversation going. She, in detail, described what their essay would be about, how much they have read so far, graciously leaving out how they’ve read so far, and how he was also helping her in math, something that Mr. Logan found interesting.

“So you’re good at math, Billy?”

“Try to be, sir.”

“That’s good. I’ve heard your sister is quite good at it too.” At this, Billy turned to Jess, slightly confused, but when Jess returned his look of confusion, he quickly realized she was not the one talking about his family. Their shared looks made Mr. Logan chuckle. “Your dad and I work at the same bank, son.”

“Oh.” This information made his stomach flip, causing him to be uncomfortable where he sat. He began shifting in his seat, attempting to still look Mr. Logan in the eyes during their conversation.

As they finished their dinner, Billy insisted on at least carrying the dirty dishes to the sink, but once that was done, Both Mr. and Mrs. Logan ordered that they retreat upstairs to start their studying. Jess made sure to grab her bag, reminding Billy of his as well, and they went up the steps together.

When they had finally entered her bedroom, Jess was already giving Billy an annoyed glance. He decided to put a close to her irritation, “Jess I wasn’t flirting with your mother this time.”

“Oh yeah?”

He then raised his right hand, tracing across over the left side of his chest, as he did the first time he visited, “Cross my heart.”

“Hope to die?”

“Doesn’t everyone?”

Jess rolled her eyes at his quick remark but figured he meant his promise, and she continued with their plans for the evening. “So, The Iliad or derivatives, take your pick.”

“Whatever you want, princess.” He was busy eyeing her childish teddies along the far wall of her room, occasionally running his fingers along the ears, many of them wearing various cheer outfits, complete with pom poms, which made Billy chuckle. What caught his attention, however, was a picture of a much younger Jess, with a white long sleeve, the number 07 written in black on her torso, the word “Broncos” written above the number in the same color, complete with a pair of spandex and kneepads. “You played?” Billy now had the frame in his hand, facing it toward Jess as if to explain why he was suddenly asking her questions.

“That was a long time ago.”

“Were you any good?”

“Honestly? Yeah. Really good.”

He set the frame back down in front of another frame, which was slightly longer, and had depicted about a dozen girls, all wearing the same uniform Jess had in the previous picture. He searched for her in the group photo and when he found her, he turned back to the now older version. “Why aren’t you on the Hawkins team then?” But before she could answer, Billy suddenly turned back to her solo picture, and reread the mascot name on her jersey. “The Broncos? I thought Hawkins middle school were The Cubs?”

“I went to middle school a couple towns over.” Jess had her copy of The Iliad already out, opened to where they stopped last Saturday. “You ready to get started?”

“You deciding you don’t need me anymore, Logan?”

Billy was not as eager to start on the reading as Jess was and was hoping she would have chosen him to tutor her in math instead, considering how stressed the epic poem made him. “Like you said, I’ll figure it out by Wednesday.” She gave him a quick smile, ensuring it didn’t linger longer than being friendly, and gestured for him to sit next to her, which he did after he retrieved the annotated copy from his bag. As Billy sat, she shifted slightly, scooting away from him when he got closer. However, Billy didn’t seem to notice, as he was too engaged in Jess’s old notes.

“Now pleasing sleep had seal’d each mortal eye, Stretch’d in the tents the Grecian leaders lie…”

She read this way for the next few hours, Billy quietly listening, occasionally glancing up to watch her read, something she would sometimes catch, but willed herself to not acknowledge them, as, she believed, that’s all they were: glances. They continued this way, him admiring her, her pretending not to notice him, with the occasional questions Billy had about the text interrupting their game. When the clock turned 9:45, Billy interjected Jess’s reading one last time.

“We can pick this up tomorrow. But Thursday I have to finish my research paper for U.S History,” Jess began to explain, putting away her book and taking her physics packet in the process, “And since we’ll be… busy… Friday, I’m thinking we can just write the paper this weekend. Or I can just do it if-“

“I’m free this weekend.” Billy intended to keep his promise, to not push all the paperwork on Jess, even though he was unsure how useful he’d be in writing an essay.

“Okay, Saturday then? Since you know, you work and all…”

“See you tomorrow, Logan.”

Billy softly closed her door, then began down the steps, his bag swinging in his left hand, his right hand holding onto his pack of Reds in his denim pocket. Her parents were no longer in the kitchen, nor the living room, so he took it upon himself to lock the bottom lock, closing the front door afterward. He climbed into his car, wearing a crooked smile, turned the key, and blasted his heat. Once his door was closed, he lit what he believed would be his last cigarette of the night, and trapped it between his lips before he pulled out and made the short drive back home. Before pulling up his own driveway, he was sure to turn off his headlights to avoid illuminating the living room, hoping not to wake anyone who may be asleep. Once parked he finished his Marlboro inside his car, taking his time, before it was time to leave the safety of his car and enter his father’s domain. He still held the smile on his face, reminiscing over his previous meal, but when he opened the front door to find Neil standing, facing the door, with Max sitting on the couch, also now staring at the door wide-eyed, he quickly dropped his smile, along with any hope of going to sleep any time soon.

“So,” Neil remained unmoved, staring blankly at his son, “you’re too good to bring Maxine home from school now, hmm?”

Billy looked from Max back to his father, who was still staring at him with the same wooden expression. It made his heart drop, as he always knew what came after his father proved his vacancy for emotion, the emptiness would be replaced with something else, something that wanted to prove to Billy that he was nothing. That he would always be nothing.

Instead of Billy responding, Max did, attempting to diminish the tension, “I told you, I’m fine. I like skating sometimes and my friends were-“

“Quiet, Maxine. I was asking your brother.” The calmness in his voice made both children shiver. Neil was now walking toward him and only stopped before the tip of his nose reached the bridge of Billy’s. “Why don’t you go back to your room.” He was still addressing Max, who looked to be opening her mouth to protest until Billy locked eyes with her and shook his head painfully slow, hoping to not tip off his father about their nonverbal conversation.

For fucks sake Max, don’t make it worse.

When her footsteps were no longer audible, Neil continued. “So. Why is it, on a day you don’t have practice, did you allow your sister to skate home?”

“Dad, come on, I had shit to take care of, okay? I got this English project and she even said her friends were with her. It’s not like she was fending for herself out there.”

“Oh no, I saw who brought her home, Billy.” The color began to drain from his face as he tried to look anywhere but at Neil. “It’s your responsibility to bring her home. Isn’t that right?”

“Dad I-“ Neil’s first strike to his face caught him off guard, his balance failing him as he teetered to his right. Once he caught himself, however, he was met with another blow to his lip, which connected much harder than the last. Neil shook his head in disappointment, annoyed that he had to do that.

“That wasn’t a question, son.” Billy was now backed into the door, silently begging to materialize at the other side of it. The way Neil spat out his name for him, son, it made him want to return to the Logan’s, back to the dinner table with Mr. Logan, who made the name seem more endearing. “I’m tired of this attitude, thinking you can do what you want, that you can talk back.” He was becoming louder, more unhinged.

“I’m s-sor-“

“HMM?”

“I’m sorry sir.” He dared look into his father’s eyes when he said this, knowing it would only anger him further if this requirement was not meant.

Neil then backed away from him, contemplating his apology. “I don’t. Ever. Want to see that shit again, you understand me?” When Billy nodded, Neil turned away from him. “Clean this shit up. Since you can’t even bother showing up to dinner anymore.” Neil gestured to the dining room, then retreated to his own room, slamming the door for good measure, indifferent about whether Susan could have been asleep. There was a single dish left on the table, a beer can sitting next to it. Billy willed the numbness in his legs to retreat back to his chest and began to walk toward the dining table, tossing the can and quickly rinsing off the plate, fork, and steak knife, placing them in the dishwasher once done. He stood there, still in front of the sink, looking out at the small window that was placed above it, only able to see his reflection as it was too dark outside to see anything else. He saw the cut left behind by his father, the redness around it threatening to turn purple any minute. He saw the moisture building under his eyes and the trembling scowl on his face. He saw how unquestionably weak he looked. He struck his palm against the edge of the now clean sink, still staring down his reflection, ordering it to change, but it only became worse, the tears now running down his face. He couldn’t be here anymore. Not now.

He retreated back to his car, now allowing his headlights to shine bright, not caring whether they were disrupting. He wouldn’t be coming back tonight anyways. He backed out, tires screeching and music blasting, something he was sure he’d pay for tomorrow if Neil cared to run into him again. He glanced down at his watch, seeing the time read as 11:37. Everything would be closed, this city not even a fraction as lively as SoCal. Billy looked around at the darkened town as he drove, his engine and tape disrupting the silence. He then found the abandoned parking lot, the same one that he allowed Jess to circle just yesterday. He parked but kept the car on, unwilling to turn off the heat, but if he were to sleep there, in his car, as he has done multiple times, he knew he’d have to turn it off eventually. He began to hang his head, tired from tonight’s events, until he decided to once again look at his reflection, pulling at his rearview mirror slightly to do so. His cut was now much more visible than it was in the reflection of the window, angering him, the sleepiness from just moments ago fading.

“Fuck.” He then struck his palm against his wheel. “FUCK.” He continued to bang against it, his tongue now dripping venom, “FUCK this GODDAMN town. Fuck this. FUCK HE-“ He became incoherent, babbling as he struck his dash now, unable to see clearly through his tears. When he accidentally bumped his horn, he stopped, throwing his head back in his seat. While staring up at nothing, he began to realize he didn’t want to sleep in his cold car. He didn’t want to be alone. And though he knew better, he was blinded by the comfort he had felt only hours before, and because of this, only because of this, Billy began his journey back to Cherry Lane.

#billy hargrove fanfiction #billy hargrove #billy hargrove imagine #billy hargrove stranger things #billy x reader #billy hargrove x reader #billy stranger things #billy hargrove fic #billy deserved better #billy hargrove angst #billy hargrove fanfic #billy hargrove x oc #billy hargrove antis dni #billy antis dni #billy hargrove headcanon #billy hargrove hc

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theintrovertbean · 5 months

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I bet you can't tell which one of them is my favorite (sarcastic)

I'll make another post later about Nadia because I love her so much I might need therapy 😭

I'm participating in brainrot's Vesuvia Weekly prompts and I'd like to encourage eveyone to join ^.^

Also, brainrot has a Discord server now, so if you're interested in getting to know others from the fandom and bond over our beloved character, I kindly recommend that you join. It's a safe place for every simp 💜

The Arcana Main 6 x Dara relationship dynamics

Asra: There is some romantic potential between the two, but it's not very much. They were childhood friends and are still very close. Because of that, people often mistake them for lovers. When I say they are close, I really mean it. Asra has no problem hopping into Dara's bed for some cuddles and he's one of the very few people who are allowed to touch them. They pretty much go everywhere together and even though they have separate beds in the shop, they often end up sharing. He's invited to every family gathering and special occasion. Dara can be a little oblivious when it comes to how others feel about them (coughs coughs Nadia coughs choughs), but Asra, being the cheeky person that he is, doesn't shy away from letting them know that a certain Countess might be in love with them. Asra was the first person Dara kissed, btw.

Nadia: Oh I could talk about these two all day. True love. That's it, true love. They met during the plague and quickly fell in love with each other. However, they didn't confess their love until after Nadia woke up from her coma. Dara is introverted but warm and patient, which is something that can be said about Nadia as well. Their relationship is as comfortable as it is passionate, filled with affection and care. They're both givers, which means they spoil each other 24/7 with gifts and all forms of affection. Neither of them trusts easily, but since they're both patient and kind, opening up was not a big issue (except that one incident but that's gonna be explained in Wounds of Magic, Scars of Love.) Nadia is Dara's favorite person in the entire world and they're giving her the special treatment. They seem like an open person, but there's still so much that they hide about themselves. Not from Nadia, tho. Nadia is the only person that Dara tells everything. They have some trauma, and so far, Nadia has been the only one they completely trusted with it. Whenever something happens, Dara's first thought is that they have to go and tell Nadia about it. No one is allowed to touch Dara without asking for first (except Asra and maybe a handful of other people), but Nadia is always an exception. Actually, Dara wishes she would touch them all the time. There is something about the Countess that makes Dara feel things that no one else ever has before. It's a relationship based on lots of love and mutual respect. When it's just them, everything feels so easy. They can be just Nadia and Dara with each other and I think that's beautiful. There's no pressure, no expectations. Just love. If there was a love story about a star and the moon, it would be about them. Hand in marriage when?

Julian: Dara can't really decide how they feel towards Julian. On the one hand, they'd party with him. On the other hand, they're giving him a bombastic side-eye. Julian is not bad and Dara is okay with hanging out with him once in a while, but they can't imagine getting any closer to him. However, sometimes they hang out at the Rowdy Raven and chat over some drinks and they worked together during the plague. When they share a common goal, they're willing to work together towards it.

Muriel: Sweet Muriel is a childhood friend of Dara. They drifted apart but later rekindled their friendship. Or more like, Muriel tolerates Dara more than he would with other people. Dara isn't someone who would force anyone, which is something that Muriel appreciates. However, Dara makes sure that Muriel never feels forgotten. Whenever Dara goes somewhere, they bring him back a little gift or occasionally show up at his hut to say hi, bring some goodies, and pet Inanna. Whenever there's an occasion, Dara invites Muriel and sadly, he often says no, but Dara lets him know that they could hang out later. Just the two of them. They both like chickens. Dara sometimes asks if they could hug Muriel.

Portia: Besties. They bake together and gossip together. When Dara and Portia sit down, they simply can't resist spilling all the latest tea. You know what TikTok trend about whoever brings up xy has to pay first? Yeah, it's them. I swear to gayness, they're like two grandmas. They pet and feed stray cats. Maybe occasionally bring them back to the Palace until Nadia says it's enough. Portia is someone that Dara trusts and considers a true friend. Lots of inside jokes and uncontrollable laughter. They also think that she's cute.

Lucio: Another character with romantic potential. At first, Dara just wanted to punch him. Now they want to punch him and then make out with him and it really confuses them. They're still salty about the way Lucio treated Nadia, but they also understand that Lucio is in some serious need of a therapist. With that being said, Dara is someone that Lucio can talk to about his past. As soon as they begin to understand why Lucio is the way he is, their judgement and hatred for him starts to disappear. When Lucio had the plague, Dara did their best to ease his suffering. If he ever needs a shoulder to cry on or just someone who listens, Dara is always available. They want to get drunk with him.

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ladyandherbooks · 11 months

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Runaan's Last Mission

So with the new season coming up and the confirmation that Kimdael is in season 5 I have a new theory regarding Runaan, Kimdael and why I think that killing her will be Runaan's final mission as an assassin.

You see there are some interesting links between Runaan and Kimdael, both are powerful warriors who have achieved the status of legends in their own lifetimes who have taken a number of lives. However, their statuses as legends are very different, Kimdael achieving her status through her greed and cruelty while Runaan achieved his through his selflessness, desire to protect the weak and his deep love for Xadia.

And then we come to how they both view taking a life. It's interesting to note that both of them discuss and reference the weight of a life in Bloodmoon Huntress:

However it's important to note the differences in these moments. When Runaan discusses the weight of taking a life he describes it as a balance, that taking a life may end hatred and cruelty but it also prevents any change, love and more from happening. He understands that death ends any chance of atonement or redemption and that this is an important weight and truth that every assassin must understand. That all life is important and that taking it must be taken seriously.

Kimdael however interprets the weight of taking a life very differently. Her interpretation is greedy and self serving, the lives that she takes are innocent, only taken to serve her, her desires and goals. She's willing to take anyone she finds, including children if it means that she continues to live and, given what we now know about her, serve Aditi's descendants. She's ignoring the true weight and value of the lives she is taking, only seeing their true potential in death. She has forgotten to value life.

And so it would be very thematically satisfying to see Runaan, someone guided by love and who truly understands what it means when you take someone's life finally end Kimdael, a fellow Moonshadow elf who has turned her back on this belief.

And what makes this worse is that she simply doesn't care about her crimes and cruelty anymore. She even taunts Runaan with the fact that she will kill again because she knows that it will anger and stay with him.

Kimdael has become arrogant, believing that she cannot be killed, that she cannot be stopped (except of course by a member of the Sunfire royal family), especially by a fellow Moonshadow elf.

But this again is another reason why Runaan, with the help of Ethari and Rayla and possibly others must be the one to finally stop her. Because despite her connection to the Sunfire royal family and her exile, she and always will be a Moonshadow elf. And it should be a Moonshadow elf who finally stops her once and for all. To fix the imbalance that she has created in Xadia, in Moonshadow society and within herself. And the one who takes her life, who fixes this balance should be someone who understands this balance, this weight, who feels it deep within themselves everyday of their lives.

Someone who is the complete opposite of Kimdael and someone who would never go down the path she went down. And the elf that best fits this description is Runaan.

It would also be very satisfying to see this be his final mission as an assassin, to finally have the best and most Moonshadow of all Moonshadow elves to defeat their worst, most cruel and corrupted example of themselves. To have a legend of love and protection defeat a legend of cruelty and hate.

And then let that be the end of it, with this final mission to put an end to the worst of their people and one of the most evil elves in Xadia let Runaan retire from his duties as an assassin forever. Let this final mission be his greatest, most important mission, let it be his swan song.

Let it also be his first step towards a new path, a new duty, one which allows him to protect and serve his people without having to kill or to leave his home and the people that he loves.

#tdp #Runaan #Kimdael #The dragon prince #tdp theory #tdp speculation

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solvicrafts · 1 year

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One of my favorite recurring themes with the novels (including Legend of Drizzt and War of the Spider Queen) is that we repeatedly see a lot of characters we grow attached to realize just how fundamentally lost some of their closest friends and family are.

WARNING: Mild spoilers for WotSQ/heavy spoilers for LoD below the cut

We see it WotSQ with Ryld and Valas, both of whom are betrayed by someone dear to them (I’m being purposely vague here because I don’t want to spoil anything since I know a few people are in the process of reading WotSQ now). We see it with Jarlaxle and Arathis Hune, we see it with Artemis and his mother, we see it with Drizzt and Zaknafein (although Zak later comes around), we see it with Kimmuriel and Rai’gy, and there’s likely a ton more examples I’ve forgotten.

And each of these characters has a different reason for either failing the person they love or a different way of processing and coming to terms with that disappointment.

Ryld becomes more closed off around Pharaun, but is still capable of forming some attachments later on. Still, you can tell that his ability to trust people is damaged and he has lingering trauma over it. Ryld is definitely uncomfortable with certain aspects of drow life, but overall accepts everything stoically.

Valas is devastated but pulls through it and remains loyal to Jarlaxle and Bregan D’aerthe. Otherwise, he doesn’t seem to develop any close attachments that we know of, but he definitely does still care to a certain extend about Pharaun and Ryld. And in all fairness, he basically disappears after WotSQ and only reappears for cameos in LoD here and there. Interestingly, he’s even willing to try and build a friendship with Zaknafein. I find this *super interesting* because Zak indirectly told him that he killed his grandfather after coldly shutting him down, and while there was some tension for a moment, Valas was the one to attempt to make peace and didn’t take his offer for drinks off the table.

Jarlaxle is... well, he’s interesting and complicated in this regard. He doesn’t tend to be very open about his true feelings on things, and while he’s had a LOT of disappointments in life, we don’t see him really dwelling on them. He knew, for example, that Arathis was threatened by Zaknafein’s growing closeness to him, and initially found it almost entertaining before it got to the level that it did. But where I think this could potentially get really interesting is how it affects his relationship to Valas; we don’t see him interacting directly with Valas very many times, but when we do, they are cordial, and Valas seems to have a preference for Jarlaxle over Kimmuriel and is anxious for him to return as a leader in Gauntlgrym.

It honestly makes me wonder just how Jarlaxle perceives him, and what must have been going through his mind when Valas showed up on his doorstep after seeking out Bregan D’earthe following the fall of his house. We DO see that Jarlaxle is particularly attached to Braelin, and as I’ve mentioned before, he and Valas have a ton of things in common. And Braelin at the very least is aware of Valas, per his introduction in Maestro. He’s also roughly two centuries younger. Could Jarlaxle have had Valas train him as a scout? I think it’s pretty likely, and I wonder if part of his motivation for doing so might have been hope that:

a) Braelin, being “a commoner but of more noble heart” as Jarlaxle described him, might be a good influence upon Valas in the event he turned out more like his grandfather in temperament and morality than Jarlaxle hoped.

b) Valas would be a good mentor for Braelin and keep him away from the city, thereby limiting his exposure to the uglier aspects of their society.

c) History would not repeat itself like it did with Arathis, and he’d get two good scouts to replace the one he lost -- and it makes sense, especially since Braelin was rescued by Zaknafein at one point and probably reminded Jarlaxle of him. Maybe this is his way of making up for his perceived failure to keep the peace between Arathis and Zak?

Drizzt on the other hand does NOT take disappointment well at all. I think RAS and his books get shit on a bit more than they deserve, but one major criticism I do actually agree somewhat with is that Zaknafein’s return was handled horribly where Drizzt was concerned and it made Drizzt look like a petulant child.

I say ‘somewhat’ because Drizzt is still mentally pretty damn young by elven standards, and on top of that, he grew up absolutely idolizing Zaknafein and it never even occurred to him that Zak was STILL a product of his environment and had survived in it for far, far longer than Drizzt. Well... okay, it did, but I don’t think he really understood the full weight of it. I still think it could have been done better, but it does help to show how much more growing up Drizzt still has to do.

Artemis as we know took that betrayal VERY hard, but at least he got some closure in the end. Even better, he’s really connecting with other people now and forming strong friendship -- even with people he once hated! Some people are pissed about this, but I actually like it quite a bit.

And then there’s Kimmuriel... yeah, he doesn’t really acknowledge it AT ALL. But if you read between the lines, Rai’gy’s fall clearly had a major impact on him. He became a lot more serious about reigning Jarlaxle in, took over some of Rai’gy’s roles with magical item creation/duplication, and became even more closed off. Like Artemis, he’s starting to take small but meaningful steps in forming bonds with other people, and he’s finally beginning to open up about the traumas he’s been through. He was genuinely heartbroken over the (likely) loss of Jarlaxle and his friends, but not so much so that he was willing to immediately go for the nuclear option of taking Azzudonna to the hivemind despite fucking everyone getting on his ass about taking her there or torturing her directly.

What I also find absolutely fascinating about his development is that while losing Rai’gy was undeniably hard on him, I think it was also necessary for his growth. The Kimmuriel we saw in Servant of the Shard would have brutally and messily murdered Calico Grimm instead of settling for humiliating and sparing him. The Kimmuriel we have now actually defended Doum’welle to Gromph by telling him that his anger against her was misplaced and that she was, in fact, an undeserving victim. He also called out Gromph on his racist double-standards during their conversation about Catti-brie.

It’s taken a long time (as it should, given how extreme Kimmuriel’s tendencies toward cruelty and perceptions of other people once were), but Kimmuriel has come a long way, and I really look forward to seeing where he goes from here.

Anyway, these are my thoughts. I had no real reason for writing all this down other than the fact that I just love these characters and wanted to talk about them.

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