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yuri-is-online · 15 days

Note

I really love Sebek and Epel and Deuce

Sebek's Yutu would be a tad hilarious but also kinda sad because his dad MAY OR MAY NOT BE ALIVE because man

Malleus :(

Epel's Yutu tho......

I saw a fic where Epel can use a gun (mentioned in passing) so I'm imagining that while Epel's Yutu is a great farmer just like his dad

He's also got a rifle :)

You have given me a vision... the one thing Epel! Yutu wants... is to be a cowboy. Can you picture a baby who looks a lot like Epel with a little cowboy hat and boots, he'd be so cute. Also, I was having brain rot and decided to introduce one of the friends lovely @archetypal-archivist helped create for Yutu! Please check out their Azul! Yutu posting it's very good and I love it sososo much. Unfortunately this post does not feature Epel riding on a horse, I'll have to fix that sometime. And get back to Sebek later.

notes: they/them used for Yuu, context on the fyuuture kid au can be found here and here. For more fyuutre kid au, please check out the series section of my masterlist.

Yutu's earliest memory is of apples.

His parent had him in a sling as they worked, picking and packing the fruit as they softly hummed a lullaby to soothe his grumpy mood. He never was able to get over how big an orchard could be, even when he was old enough to walk under the trees and play with the other workers children something about that sea of greenery just felt magical. Like if he really focused the outside world would cease to be and he could wake up in a land of nothing but him, Yuu, and the acceptance you can only ever find in nature.

But that's not how things ever went. When he opened his eyes Yuu would pack him up and they would move to follow the harvest until the winters shut things down and it was back to that god awful place Yuu had been born in. He was glad to move away when Yuu found them a permanent place to stay when he turned 10, gladder still for it to be a farm even if it didn't have the orchards he loved so much. The old couple that hired Yuu on were impressed with how deeply the single parent cared for their son, and how eager the son was to to help his parent. It was the perfect set up for an ideal, if difficult, childhood that would nurture Yutu in to a strong young man.

But this isn't the happy family future, it's the bad one. And things were always going to go wrong sooner rather than later.

Mixing things up from the other posts, Yuu feels particularly drawn to farms and farm work when thinking about Yutu's father and ends up crisscrossing their country as a migrant farm worker until they're offered a full time position as a farm hand they happily accept in the hopes of stabilizing Yutu's education. Yutu genuinely loved his childhood and grew up having a deep respect for manual labor and agriculture. He assumes Yuu must have met his father while traveling and had a brief relationship that produced him, but accepts that whatever accident caused Yuu's memory loss will keep him from ever really knowing if that was the case. Yuu impresses on him that his dad was a hard worker with a bit of a temper who never backed down from a challenge. They tease him that he gets his "cute" side from his Pappa, which Yutu likes about as much as Epel probably would.

He's doing his time in the short king mines, Yutu won't hit his growth spurt until around 17 and how tall he gets is from that is up to you, but if he stays short just know he is not happy about it at all. Unless someone brings up the fact he could probably have a career as a professional jockey and then he will maybe think about it as being a blessing. Maybe. Yutu learned to ride pretty early on in life and he loves doing it, but he doesn't really want to race horses. He'd much rather be a cowboy with his own little farm and a family of his own with a big orchard to tend to. He's got big dreams of one day being able to introduce his partner to Yuu and give them a nice place to retire to.

Plays outside by himself a lot. There are some kids at school he befriends, but a lot of their parents are wary about letting their kids hang out with him at his house. Yuu is seen as a bit weird, even if the old couple they work for is well liked most people in town know their kids who really dislike Yuu and Yutu for reasons that escape Yutu but his parent seems to understand. "They think they're protecting their parents." As Yutu grows he thinks it has to be more about money, he and Yuu love working the farm but their kids all have different jobs they got college degrees for so they probably want to sell the land when their parents die. He's right about that last bit of course, and willing to let Yuu give them some charity but he doesn't think they care about their parents near as much as he cares about his. Otherwise they'd at least be nice to someone their parents considered part of the family and not ship their mom off to a nursing home before their dad was even in the ground. Or evict the outcasts they considered part of the family too.

You have no idea what to do as you pack up your few belongings, Yutu can tell that you are stressed and it makes him mad. He tries to focus on helping, taping things up and dragging them out to the beat up car as you listlessly stare at the kitchen sink. After he moves the second box he notices you're not packing anymore and goes to check what's wrong and his instincts begin screaming something's wrong. Your eyes are unfocused, staring down at a framed picture he remembers well.

"Do you ever think about how all of this is my fault?" You sound a world a way and Yutu guesses that you are, the photo of a younger you with a toddler him in a sling under the apple orchards stares back at you both questioning just where is it you plan to go from here. It can't be back on the open road, school is about to start and the entire point of staying here was to make things better for him. Yutu is about to ask you the same thing when he hears the wind pick up, and is that a carriage he hears? "If I hadn't forgotten you, then maybe I could have found a way back..."

"What in the goddamn-" Yutu is cut off by the glass being blown out and he dives on instinct to cover you as the world spins around him.

"I'm real sorry Epel, you don't have to forgive me but... even after all this time. I still love you... I still love you and how sad is that..."

Good news, Yutu doesn't have to sleep and a shitty motel tonight. Bad news, he's in the middle of some fancy private school shit and his parent is flat lining on their floor. He starts screaming bloody murder until Crewel comes and scoops him up and ushers him off to the hospital wing where they have a very tense conversation. Yes, he does belong here actually he was supposed to have been born in this world with it's magic, monsters, and annoying private school uniforms he finds himself shoved into and marched back out to that fuck ass mirror to hear what dormitory he belongs in. The fuck is a Pom-e-fee-or and why does that girl with the 2000s throwback hairstyle look like she wants to kill him for asking that?

That girl is the Vice Warden of his new house and she absolutely hates him on sight. Like, she's heard about Epel before, duh who hasn't? He performed in the VDC with the Vil Schoenheit and he had like a fun Magicam account where he promoted his family's apple farm. Didn't Yuu tell him anything about that? Ugh guess she'll have to do it and hey why is hE RUNNING AWAY DOES ELEGANCE MEAN NOTHING TO YOU?!?!?! WHERE IS YOUR POMEFIORE DIGNITY YUTU DON'T THINK SHE CAN'T CATCH YOU BECAUSE SHE'S GOT HEELS ON BITCH!!!

It's exactly where Epel's Pome Pride was when he first joined to dorm, down a drain someplace because Yutu thinks his dorm is the pits. Growing up like he did made him starkly aware of just how different people with money see people like him and instilled a deep hatred of people who make their personality their skincare routine. He thinks the way rich people spend their money is boring and hates that his dorm mates are spending their precious time in a literal apocalypse doing their make up and hair. His Vice Warden is irritated with him and asks what he does then when he can't control the circumstances around him and Yutu goes to snap back at her but finds he doesn't really have an answer.

"Have you even tried taking care of yourself before?" Peyton is looking over his hair in genuine disgust, it's different than the resting bitch face she usually has. Yutu has seen enough of both to be able to tell the difference now.

"I mean I don't not take care of it." Because Yuu had tried to get him to do things like a skincare routine before, and come to think of it they had phrased the reasoning much like Peyton is now. Take good care of yourself. His Vice Warden rolls her eyes and turns towards her vanity, the amount of homemade products and their labels immediately tells him they aren't all for her hair type.

"Yeah but you don't do it well. Look I'm not crazy about bougie stuff either but like, you just feel so much better when you put the effort into yourself and not what other people say about you." She hesitates before meeting his eyes in the mirror and adding. "Trust me, I'd know." And Yutu believes her.

It has got to be hard being a vocaloid stan in a dorm with a literal ballroom.

Yutu really does belong in Pomefiore. He's great with alchemy and magical plants, just like his dad Crewel is all to happy to tell him. They talk a bit about his dad and the situation in the Shaftlands, how no one has heard from Epel since the blot took over and it's insanely difficult to get anywhere near there since the Phantom Hunter makes your life a living hell if you try. Most people think he's dead, but Crewel isn't so sure. He thinks that the various communities across Mt. Moln could easily sustain themselves if they barricaded against the blot monsters, but they also don't have a lot of mages so actually defending themselves could be difficult. Then again this does mean that the stronger phantoms would be less interested, so who knows. In the climate of the day though it is probably best to brace for the worst.

The sports clubs still exist in a less intense manner than before to give people different ways to relax and things to do. Since Yutu loves horses he tried the equestrian club out before deciding it was way too "fussy" and settling in to the board game club since he never really had enough friends to actually play them with before. It's a lot of fun to compare all the ways these games are similar to ones he knows about from Yuu's world and yet completely different. It helps nurse his sadness over losing Yuu since they were the only one who ever played these sorts of games with him and he has fond memories of how they totally never let him win.

He takes a great deal of comfort in knowing his dad had similar struggles with his dorm placement and is overjoyed to learn about the family farm! He wishes he was there right now and drives Peyton absolutely bonkers telling her all about the tests he's run on the soil around campus, how he thinks blot might effect plant growth, and the ways he can think of to combat it. She's crying please just go talk to the Ignyhide kids they totally care about that stuff probably! His lectures end up being useful when they're finally unable to avoid going out on missions any longer as understanding the signs of heavy pollution makes the stronger phantoms easier to track.

It's a realization Epel has also had, secluded in his little village as he is. Harveston has heavily fortified it's position and bulked up it's population with the survivors of other surrounding communities. They have been gifted the ability to endure, but Epel doesn't know if their community will survive long term unless the phantoms are dealt with. The surviving members of his family from the Queendom told awful stories when they retreated here, if that's what's going on in the rest of the world he imagines S.T.Y.X. is probably involved so he tries to keep his eyes peeled for anything like their tech. He manages to find a busted drone in the snow one day and brings it home to work on it whenever he gets a spare moment. It helps him ignore his grief over losing Yuu, his child, and contact with all of his friends. When he's focused on not breaking the drone further, he can convince himself he's either worked through that already or that once he fixes it he will have everyone he lost back at home with him where they belong.

Unit 7954 cackles back to life with a stream of what sounds like a stream of curse words, but Idia has certainly never heard any of them before. He knows that joyful cackle though and he thinks he must have stayed up too long again because he as to be hallucinating. There is no way he's actually looking at Epel, but the whooping before he shyly calms himself down reassures him he is. The two frantically talk about the situation in the Shaftlands and the number of survivors before Idia smacks himself and remembers to mention Yutu's existence. Epel falls off his chair in surprise at the news and Idia is worried he's killed the man before he hears his sobbing. Breaking through the front lines of the Fairest Queen might be impossible, but a video call now that Epel has fixed the drone isn't and Ortho is nice enough to set one up.

"Sevens yer big." Yutu feels like he's 10 feet tall when he hears the drawl of his father's voice. "Bigger than I was at yer age I reckon." The man is certainly taller than him, with lavender waves he's tied neatly back to let him see better under his thick winter clothing. His smile is so warm and friendly Yutu wishes he could dive through the screen and be there with him right this instant. "'s ok if ya don't know where to start with the questions, I bet you got a bunch."

"Why'd you marry Yuu?" It's not what he expected to ask first. He wanted to talk about school, or ask something practical like tips about finding his unique magic or fighting monsters. But that was what he really wanted to know wasn't it? Why Yuu was so important, if he was important to this man and his different accent even after all these years. And the happy smile that relaxes his father screams that he is, it's as if he's shed years of stress and suffering just thinking about his parent.

"Be easier to list the reasons I didn't like them since there aren't any." Epel closes his eyes and thinks about that first moment he realized how much he liked you, tucked away studying in the library and bickering about how to do an assignment as he wondered why you were even there and if you thought he was cool at all. "Since Yuu was from another world a lot of us felt like they deserved a good home here, but that just meant I wanted to invite them over for the summer and stuff like that. Didn't mean I wanted to spend the rest of my life with them, that's what I thought at first anyway. But well, you know Yuu pretty well. They always somehow know where the good lies in even the worst of people. Or at least they knew where it was in me and made sure to believe in it right up until the last day I saw them." They both quiet at the thought of that, Yutu wondering if he should push further before Epel quietly adds. "I hope you know they'd be stupid proud of you for everything. Pomefiore isn't an easy dorm to be a part of but if you put in the work you'll really thrive there, and the both of us really believe you've got what it takes to do that yeah? If you'll let me speak on their behalf anyway."

"Of course you can." Yutu does his best not to cry, but Epel can tell it isn't going to work. "You- you miss them too after all." And isn't that the truth.

The plan to go back in time is decided on before the blockade around Harveston can be breached. Epel gives Yutu as much information as he can about the past and what to expect before he goes, making him promise to hug the younger him at least once in the hopes the memory will somehow flow across time and he'll get a taste of what it's like to hold his son before he sends him off with a "good luck" and "kick their ass!" Even though neither of them fully know who is responsible just yet.

Epel! Yutu has an easier time adjusting to the past than a lot of the other Yutu's thanks to Epel's descriptions of people like- well mostly just his description of Rook. He still comes off as weird but in an endearing way as opposed to an "I need to run for my existence literally" type of way. Unfortunately his dad might have buried the memory of just how in his feelings and jealous he got about Yuu pre relationship. He's rolling his eyes and ignoring everything Yutu says because he wants to monopolize your attention and Yutu is honestly kind of living for it. He thinks it's super cool that his dad is willing to fight for Yuu's affections even though he could be considered to have no chance. He's short, more "cute" than he is "hot," and poor by a lot of people's standards. Sure, Yutu loves the farm life and Yuu must have to raise him in it but if that isn't how you grew up he's super surprised you chose Epel. Surprised and grateful because Yutu really loves his dad.

That love gets through to Epel somewhat, he's super confused as to why the new guy thinks he's so cool AND why he wants to complain about it. Isn't that what he wants? To be seen as cool, strong, and reliable? Well sure but he wants you to see him that way more than anything, it'd make him so happy if he had your approval. He's happy to have your friendship but- well it would just be nice to have you around forever. He's going to miss you when you go back to your world.

Yutu considers re joining the board games club to get close to Idia, but sees Azul and moonwalks his way out of there in a move that definitely doesn't put him on either of their radars and announces to Yuu that he will be starting a book club instead. He does this so he has a reasonable excuse to spend a bunch of time in the library and request access to various archives but Sebek joins since it meets once a week on Saturdays and railroads it into being like. An actual book club. They have other members too and Yutu hates it because he isn't super fond of wasting his time reading things unrelated to his mission but some of the stuff Sebek recommends is good he guesses.

Yutu thinks he's doing a good job of flying under the radar of suspicion, and to be fair Epel and Yuu are a bit too caught up in each other to notice the stranger things about Yutu but Sebek is not and convinces them to surveil where he goes after the book club meetings. Grim is on board just because he's tired of watching Epel and Yuu make heart eyes at each other and he thinks he can get tuna out of it so they make a day of it. It turns out Yutu goes to Craneport every weekend without fail to meet up with... someone. He goes to an apartment building and it would be a bit too obvious if they followed him in there without more evidence (Yuu has to be the one to point this out because you know Sebek and Epel are ready to charge.) So they keep this up for a couple of weeks until one day Yutu cancels the book club meeting and leaves campus early. This time he heads towards the mines Yuu explored with Ace and Deuce for the mage stone that second night they were at NRC. There are several people there, and Yutu does something he's never done, not even around Yuu who he has described as a friend. He lets down his hood.

The shock of lavender that tumbles out from the hood has all three of you tripping over yourselves to cover your mouths. His facial expressions, mannerisms, and even the way he goes the pull his hair screams that he has to be related to Epel. He's admitted to being from your world, and the way he speaks, the shape and color of his eyes and the way he laughs have to come from you. Sebek isn't able to keep it in any more as he starts crying, then loudly denying he's crying, congratulating you on your marriage since you are a friend of the young master before yelling at Yutu for acting in a manner that could have brought dishonor to his parents.

All of this scares the phantom Yutu's friends were hunting out of hiding and forces everyone to fight it. Yutu is extremely flustered from Sebek's scolding but he is nowhere near as embarrassed as Epel who immediately starts taking it out on the phantom and cussing up a storm. It's one of the quicker fights Yutu has had with a blot monster, and he isn't really complaining when Epel drags him and Yuu into the Dwarf's Cottage for a chat.

"So I'm yer Pa, Yuu's m' spouse and ya didn't think to spit that out 'fer you went fighting shit fucks BECAUSE?" Epel is steaming mad, he's almost as red as Riddle which Yutu would be impressed by if he wasn't so embarrassed.

"Um. Cause I didn't think you would-"

"YER GODSDAMNED RIGHT I WOULDN'TA BELIEVED YA! At first anyway." Normal, or would it be fake? Neither Yutu supposes, calm Epel is back as he crosses his arms and really looks at him. "You look like me, and you sound like them. I bet there's things you can tell me about myself you'd have no way of knowing otherwise so why bother hiding yourself? Don't you want my help?"

"Our help." You speak up immediately and Epel nods, affirming what you said slightly embarrassed he let his insecurities forget that you were here too for a moment. Yutu doesn't answer immediately, instead he looks very firmly at the ground as if he would rather be anywhere else than admit what he's about to.

"... not if it means you both die. I- I don't think I can watch that happen again." And oh seven does that change the tone of the conversation, because what does he mean by again?

Yutu refuses to answer until he gets to hug Epel. He expects it to be awkward, but it isn't at all. His dad squeezes him so tightly Yutu is sure his future self has got to feel it as he slowly lays out his story about the bad future and how he thinks it got to be there. About growing up in Yuu's world and the pain of watching you die. Epel is mad as hell to hear about it and swears it won't happen and is halfway out the door before he even has time to process it. Everyone brings Sebek up to speed, who insists on informing the young master immediately; something everyone agrees is a good course of action given how Briar Valley was the first place they know of being effected.

Malleus is delighted that everyone agreed to invite him on their secret mission, but also deeply disturbed by what hears. As Briar Valley's King, it is his responsibility to make sure nothing like Yutu is describing happens for no other reason than it would harm his subjects, but he can't help but be personally insulted that whoever did this would rob his human friend of their happiness too. The only re-payment he requests is that when (not if) he saves the future that Epel and Yuu invite him to the wedding, baby shower, christening, and any other important milestone they have in their lives. It's an easy enough thing to agree to Epel thinks. He has the approval of Ace and Deuce already, so to have Malleus announce he accepts him as your man too? That's all of the family you've collected in this world so... it's not too much trouble to ask you to join his, right? He won't be tricked this time, promise. You will walk this life hand in hand until the eternal sleep takes you both, and that won't happen until Yutu is practically an old man himself. And you of all people should know what Epel can do when he sets his mind to it; he got you to fall in love with him after all, didn't he?

#<3 asks #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #epel felmier x reader #future kid au #peyton to me is the mean older sister from an early 2000s disney channel show/movie #like #she's mean but she does ok maybe sort of care :/#she'll loan you her good lip gloss for a date and then help you hide the body if your bf turns out to be shit #and other just girly things like that you know?#ty so much to archivist for coming up with her and letting me use her #i love all their ocs to pieces

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charlie-minion · 4 years

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Could the same SPN finale make a little more sense with some additions/changes?

I’ve had the idea for this post stuck in my head for days now, but with every new conspiracy theory and every new eventuality in the fandom, it became difficult to cool down enough to write something less ship-related and more narrative-focused.

What Supernatural and non-SPN fans have to understand is that a lot of us have expressed disappointment and frustration after 15x20, not because of Destiel (that’s just one part of the whole problem), but because the finale doesn’t make sense. Everything was leading up to something beautifully crafted until the end of 15x19. Beyond that, it’s hard to understand what happened. The story rendered all the character growth irrelevant, invalidated the themes of free will and “family don’t end in blood”, regressed to the original brother codependency they spent 15 years trying to overcome, made a queer non-binary character in a male vessel and a deaf female character basically disposable, and kept the show’s reputation of queerbaiting and misogyny until its very last breath.

That’s not going out with a bang! At least not a positive one. We all were ready to mourn Supernatural, but we wanted to feel proud of its legacy, and somehow TPTB managed to tarnish that legacy in less than 45 minutes. What a way to ruin the other more than 13,600 minutes of story!

It doesn’t matter who is to blame (The CW, Robert Singer, Andrew Dabb). It doesn’t matter why it happened (homophobia, censorship, marketing for Walker, bad writing). What matters is that at the end of the day, the finale that aired is what we got and that’s going to hurt for a long time. It hurts even more when we realize that the same finale could have easily made more sense, even without being perfect.

That’s what I want to do in this post. I want to show you how things would have been less jarring (for the fandom), while still keeping the goal to please the general audience.

Before I begin rewriting 15x20, I have to mention that I talked to my conservative boomer sister about the finale. She hasn’t watched the second half of season 15 yet (she’s waiting for Netflix to have it), but she’s been watching the show for a long time (she introduced me to it 8 years ago). She’s the perfect example of a viewer from the general audience. Loves the show but doesn’t give a second thought to it and definitely isn’t paying attention to character development or themes. Doesn’t engage with fandom, actors, or any of the show’s social media. Pure GA! When I told her the series finale had aired, she asked me about it and I refused to give her spoilers. Because of that, she told me the ending SHE wanted. She said she would be happy with either of two possibilities: the boys retiring and finally living a normal life OR they going to heaven and finding peace at last. She saw Sam and Dean as a unit, which means: both retiring or both going to heaven. AND she saw Cas as part of that, too. She wasn’t so sure about Jack. And for her, we could use the “Eileen who?” and it wouldn’t be a joke. She didn’t remember her.

NOW IT’S TIME TO WRITE A NEW VERSION OF 15X20 (KEEPING 15X18 AND 15X19 EXACTLY THE SAME AS THEY AIRED). This will be a very long post:

The opening remains almost the same. No “Carry on my wayward son” to induce feels. Too soon and too predictable! (Reasoning: Everyone was expecting it to play right there, so it would bring more tears at the end)

In the opening, after the scene where Jack says “People won’t need to pray to me or sacrifice to me”, we also see the scene from 15x19 where he says “I won’t be hands on”. Then we see the rest of the opening as it was. (Reasoning: People needed to be reminded that Jack would NOT intervene and that’s why later on, he would NOT save Dean).

We get the same montage, but when Sam takes a break from his morning run, we see him reading a message on his phone. A simple: “Hey Sam, what’s new?” from Eileen. Sam smiles fondly and begins to type a response we don’t get to see. The next scene continues the same, Sam making breakfast. (Reasoning: A text was a very simple way to show that Eileen was alive and still in communication with Sam).

The montage slowly ends as Sam enters the library (not after he sits down). He seems to be talking on the phone but we only hear an “I’ll tell him. Bye”. As he walks towards the table, he tells Dean: “Charlie says hi. Mentioned something about Stevie’s perfect scrambled eggs we have to try.” Dean’s answer is “Awesome!” (Reasoning: Just ONE line was needed to unbury Charlie and her girlfriend. ONE LINE).

Sam sits down, opens his laptop and everything continues the same. The title card shows for the last time.

YOU SEE? In the first 4 minutes they could have acknowledged that THREE WOMEN were alive and safe: Eileen, Charlie and Stevie. It wasn’t hard! Don’t blame bad writing on Covid! Now let’s continue.

Sam and Dean arrive at the Pie Fest just the same. Dean goes to get some “damn pie” and Sam takes out his phone. He dials and when someone picks up, he says “Hey, Jody, how are ya?” We don’t hear the rest of the conversation. The scene moves to Dean coming with his 6 portions of pie. Dean sits down and Sam tells him, “Talked to Jody. The other hunters haven’t had much work lately.” “That’s good, isn’t it?”, Dean says. All we get from Sam is “Yeah.” So, Dean looks at him and asks “what’s wrong?” like it happened in the episode. (Reasoning: Again, a couple of lines to make sure the people that were killed in 15x18 are safe and remembered by the boys in 15x20. Why is this important? Because they’re family!)

The conversation about Sam’s sad face happens the same. Sam is the one that mentions Cas and Jack. (Reasoning: Because this episode was so Sam-centered, it’s obvious he was the protagonist in the finale. If we see him communicating with Eileen, Charlie, and Jody, then it’s NORMAL, even expected of him to be the one to bring up Cas and Jack). Without these additions, it’s harder for people to understand that most of the finale was NOT from Dean’s POV but from Sam’s.

Dean’s “if we don’t keep living, then all that sacrifice is gonna be for nothing” stays the same. (Reasoning: I believe it’s necessary that the show sticks to the importance of “letting go” and “what is dead should stay dead” for the first time ever because the message is “even when you lose someone you love, you can still find some form of happiness and keep living, for you and for them, because that’s what they would have wanted”. Bringing someone back means “I can’t live without you”, and that’s just more codependency. It’s how the demon deals began in the Winchester family –Mary being the first one to do it. This would explain why Dean didn’t ask Jack to bring Cas back, as he asked Chuck. He understood Jack was NOT going to interfere anymore and accepted it. Besides, when Cas saved Dean from hell, Dean thought he didn’t deserve to be saved. This time that Cas saved him, Dean finally feels worthy enough to accept that YES, HE DESERVED TO BE SAVED ALL ALONG, just as much as he deserved to be loved by that angel of the Lord. In this scene, Dean also says that the pain is not gonna go away, which means that from HIS PERPECTIVE, it still hurts that Cas is not there. The problem is that the finale is not showing his POV but Sam’s.

Sam pies Dean on the face just the same. (Reasoning: That part was just to avoid ending the scene on a sad note).

Everything related to the case happens exactly the same. (Reasoning: At this point, people don’t really care about the MoTW, they care about Sam and Dean).

NOTE 1: The case is important to show that even when the Winchesters are finally free of Chuck’s influence, they CHOOSE to keep hunting. It isn’t something they do out of revenge or because it is their destiny anymore. Maybe they were forced into the life at first, but they’ve learned to find joy in saving people. Being hunters is who they are. However, the fact that a job application was shown on Dean’s desk is also important because it means he was willing to explore what else was there for him besides hunting. Maybe he could find a balance? Maybe he was thinking it was time to quit? We will never know! The thing is that Sam only finds out about it when he goes into Dean’s room after his brother is dead, so maybe that’s when it hits him that Dean wanted to explore his options, and Sam starts to think it’s time for him to do the same.

NOTE 2: I believe the masks the vampires are wearing is something we can blame on covid. If they had their faces covered, it was easier to use people from the SPN crew for some scenes, instead of using more actors unnecessarily.

NOTE 3: When Sam and Dean arrive at the barn, we get 3 visuals to remember Cas in the same scene (those are for the fandom, not for the general audience): a) the barn, obviously; b) the bag that resembles Cas’ trenchcoat so much that many people thought that’s what it was; and c) two feathers hanging on Dean’s right when he opens the trunk.

The scene with the throwing star happens the same. (Reasoning: The episode is still told from Sam’s point of view, so it makes sense that he fondly sees his brother as a man child).

Jenny the vampire? Uhhh… I mean, it’s not the best piece of writing I’ve ever seen, but it’s not the worst, so okay. That stays the same. (Reasoning: There is none, but she’s not what really ruined the finale, so whatever!)

Dean still dies impaled on a rebar. (Reasoning: OK. HERE ME OUT!!! I hate as much as everyone else that Dean is killed. I think it’s lazy writing, but that’s what we got and I can’t change that in this re-write, so if killing Dean is what we have to work around, then, memes aside, death by rebar is better and here’s why. There’s no one to blame for Dean’s death: no Chuck (the boys were willingly hunting even after Chuck was defeated), no vampires (they were all killed and were no real threat, so it was impossible for Sam to begin a quest for revenge against all vampires. What was Sam going to blame? A rebar? Can you kill it? Hunt it? NO. It was an ordinary death, a stupid accident. Just like any person can die at any moment by slipping on a banana peel. Is it a good death? No, but it’s good to know he doesn’t die trying to save Sam or Cas, because Dean Winchester is NOT willing to give up his life in exchange for anyone else’s anymore.

Sam takes out his phone and says he’ll call for help, but his phone is more visible to the audience. He dials and it’s almost to his ear when Dean stops him and Sam hesitantly hangs up. (Reasoning: People have complained that Sam didn’t call an ambulance, but actually he tried to. It’s just that people missed that part, maybe?)

After Sam puts his phone back in his pocket and says “OK” to Dean, he adds, “I’ll pray to Jack”. Dean’s immediate answer is: “No hands on, remember?” “But Dean”, Sam says, and Dean interrupts him with “OK listen to me” and tells Sam what to do with the kids they rescued. (Reasoning: Jack is God now and how come Sam didn’t remember? The viewers remembered, so it was necessary to include a line that ruled the option out and that showed Dean didn’t want Jack to intervene. The rest was fine).

The lines “You knew it was always gonna end like this for me. It was supposed to end like this, right?” disappear completely from Dean’s monologue. (Reasoning: This is the most problematic part of Dean’s dying speech. He fought God and earned free will, he is no longer controlled by fate or destiny. Accepting that he is supposed to die on a hunt regresses his character development and denies his desire to keep living. This was a total mistake and should be removed).

Instead, if going to heaven is the ending TPTB wanted to give Dean, at least he should say something more empowering. Sam tells him that both of them are going to take the kids somewhere safe. Dean answers and the scene follows like this: “No. Sammy, we made our choice, didn’t we?”, he smiles with difficulty. “We were free to write our own story and we did. We decided to keep saving people, hunting things. Because it’s what we love despite the risks.” (Reasoning: If Dean’s going to die it doesn’t have to feel like it was always meant to be that way. He should die knowing that he exerted his free will until his last breath).

The rest of the dialogue between Sam and Dean happens almost the same. Except that instead of Dean saying “‘cause when it all came down to it, it was always you and me. It’s always been you and me”, he says “’cause when it all came down to it, we’ve always had each other’s backs. Always.” And instead of Sam saying “Don’t leave me”, he says “I still can try to save you.” (Reasoning: It sounds way less codependent without diminishing the importance of their love and support for each other).

Besides, let’s change Dean’s “I’m not leaving you” for “You don’t have to be alone. You’ve still got family.” The rest stays the same word by word. (Reasoning: Dean reminds Sam that “family don’t end in blood” and there are still lots of people out there who love Sam and will be with him).

“I love you so much, my baby brother” stays exactly the same. (Reasoning: Dean always had trouble to express the big L word. I always believed and said many times that before Dean could say “I love you” to Cas or any other character, he had to say it to Sam. So, this is important as part of Dean speaking his truth).

The last part when Dean insists Sam tell him that it’s okay stays the same. (Reasoning: It’s the final moment when the codependency cycle breaks. No more running in circles).

The forehead touch between them stays the same. (Reasoning: I think I would do something similar if my sister were dying. I know there are w*ncest shippers out there, but it shouldn’t matter because the moment feels appropriate for that kind of goodbye).

See? There are changes but not too many. That’s why I’ve been saying that it was easier to get it right, yet they still managed to screw it up.

The second montage stays the same. (Reasoning: Life goes on, but of course Sam has to mourn).

The call about a case in Austin remains the same. (Reasoning: It’s the only part of the episode where someone from the found family is mentioned, so I think that Donna’s name is perfect in that moment. However, without the other additions I’ve made in this re-write, that off-hand mention feels too little. Its purpose was to tell the viewers that if Donna was alive, so were the others, but the way the episode was executed gave us an isolated Sam, incapable of having friends and a family without Dean).

After 30 minutes of Sam’s POV, let’s finally see the last bit of Dean’s POV that we’ll ever get.

Dean arrives in Heaven and Bobby receives him. All their conversation stays almost the same, except that after mentioning Rufus and before saying “and your mom and dad…”, Bobby adds an “Ellen and Jo let me borrow their place”. (Reasoning: If you’re gonna put the man outside the Harvelle’s place, at least mention them for Jack’s sake!).

Besides, after Bobby tells Dean that Sam will be along and that time in heaven is different, Dean gives a small smile and says, “Well, there’s no rush. I want him to have a long, happy life.” Bobby answers with: “I would expect nothing less from you, boy” and tells him he got everything he could ever want, etc., just like it happened in the episode, and finishes by asking “What are you gonna do now, Dean?” (Reasoning: It’s important we know for sure that Dean is NOT codependent anymore and that he doesn’t expect to have a miserable afterlife just because his brother is not there yet).

Instead of saying “I think I’ll go for a drive” Dean says, “I think I know what I want” and walks towards baby. Bobby still tells him to have fun. (Reasoning: “Know what I want” is ambiguous enough to help us introduce the last piece of the puzzle, the one thing Dean’s wanted for many seasons and has never been able to express).

The biggest change is coming:

Dean gets on the Impala and has a moment of silence while he contemplates the wheel. He begins to pray: “Hey, Cas, you got your ears on? I hear you’ve been busy working on this updated Heaven with Jack. You were right about him, Cas. You had faith in him and he saved us all. You could always see the best in everyone, even when they couldn’t see it themselves. Even when I couldn’t see it myself. There’s so much I want to tell you. Maybe you can visit sometime. I hope prayer’s still a thing up here.” (Reasoning: Dean’s side of the confession was unaddressed and that was terrible writing. If there was no way to get him to speak his truth textually, at least take him as close to it as possible).

We listen to a flutter of wings and a “Hello, Dean” from the back seat. We don’t see Cas, but the camera shows us Dean’s cocky smile and he says “Took you long enough.” He turns around slowly. End of scene. (Reasoning: The flutter of wings confirms that angels have their wings back and ties that loose end. The final “hello, Dean” was highly anticipated and it made sense. If Misha couldn’t be there to film, for whatever reason, or if the problem was the kind of conversation Dean and Cas would have, then don’t show it, but leave the door open. Let us know that the two characters were reunited and will talk, but whatever Dean has to say is so private that it’s not for us to hear, only for Cas.

We finally hear “Carry on my wayward son” and get a montage that begins with Sam playing with his kid. Then we see Dean driving, super happy, and Sam living his life to the fullest. We still get Sam’s Blurry Wife, BUT… we see pictures of Eileen in the living room (not just of John, Mary, Sam, and Dean). We also see photos of Jody, Donna, Charlie, and AU!Bobby. (Reasoning: FAMILY DON’T END IN BLOOD).

The scene where Sam is wearing the party wig and looks miserable inside the Impala is cut and nobody talks about it ever again because it never existed. We get a scene of Sam teaching his son how to fix the car instead. (Reasoning: First of all, don’t give Sam a life where years later he’s still in pain. Second of all, the fucking wig was a crime).

Sam’s dying scene stays the same. The only thing is that his son signs a couple of phrases to him before actually speaking. (Reasoning: More confirmation that Dean Jr. is Eileen’s son).

We hear the final “Evanescence-like Carry on my wayward son”. Again we see the photos and there’s family other than the Winchesters there. (Reasoning: Obvious at this point).

The rest is exactly the same. The show began with two brothers and it’s okay if the last scene is with the two brothers reunited in Heaven. At this point, the other parts of the story are acceptable enough for us to feel happy that they get to see each other again after years of a happy (after)life.

Now look me in the eye and tell me this was too hard to execute. I still think that bad writing is a thing we can’t deny here, adding to the possible meddling of the Network. Maybe Dabb wanted us to hate the finale because he couldn’t get away with what he truly wanted. If that was his intention, then kudos to him. He and The CW really gave us a finale that only 30% of the fandom liked.

I hope you guys have enjoyed this and it helps to give you some peace of mind. In my heart, this was the finale we got. It wasn’t perfect, but it didn’t drop the ball either.

#supernatural #15x20 #spn 15x20 #spn finale #rewrite #dean winchester #dean deserved better #cas deserved better #destiel #the characters deserved better #we deserved better #it was easier to get it right #yet they screwed up big time #alternate ending

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proteesiukkonen · 2 years

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Please, tell more about your fave ocs! Or your most current ones, whatever you want. They all seem so very interesting!

Ohh, sure! Can’t remember what I’ve already shared about some of my ocs so I’m not sure what counts as ”more” but uhh let’s see.

First things first, two of my favs, Aalo and Ranja, basically have their own tag where I’ve blabbered about them (I think), uhh *checks notes* years ago when I was more actively creating stuff. I think most of the stuff is still at least sort of canon, so sight-seeing through the tag is totally cool.

Then there’s Pepe, who is probs my most ”current” as in, the one I create stuff for/of the most.

I think I’ve mentioned this before but Pepe is my first ttrpg character for a Monster of the Week campaign. I played her for, what, about two years? And she’s now been retired because we changed our campaign some and because she kinda hit all possible leveling caps and was a bit of a dead-end to play even though I loved rping her. I wasn’t ready the let her go completely so now she lives on in various AUs me and my girlfriend have deviced. I suppose I could give a brief overview of some of them? That counts, yes? Anyway.

MotW Pepe: The original one, exists in our campaign universe of kind of dieselpunk & magic alternate Finland. She’s quite literally the middle child of a rich criminal family, but ran away from home and became a loudmouth street rat. After stealing valuables from a mob boss who happened to also be a werewolf, she had to seek shelter from the local ”magic police” organization and started to work as a monster hunter. During the campaigns she badly injured her right arm and made a deal with a fae for a replacement. Eventually the fae died and so her replacement arm pretty much just fell off. She also willingly turned into a werewolf (in our universe, you don’t become werewolf after being bitten but through a magic ritual) to save her girlfriend from the mob boss mentioned before. She started the campaign as a self-centered, immature and irresponsible human brat, and finished as a not-so-selfish, kinda responsible werewolf asshat, and I am proud of her very off-kilter character growth.

80s AU Pepe: Less fantasy, more scifi version of Pepe, a kind of a ”what-if” version in that in this one she got caught by the mob boss after stealing (though in this scenario, it’s more of a shady/criminal business magnate rather than a crime syndicate) and has to work for her as a low-ranking getaway car driver to stay alive. She also has a debilitating arm injury from a car crash, and has been given a bionic arm from the boss so she can drive, but it’s a discontinued b-grade model that runs on batteries that the boss controls the supply on. This version of Pepe is still an obnoxious loudmouth, but she’s also a lot more guarded and pessimistic than the original version. Where the OG Pepe had a thing for getting out of trouble scot free and therefore had a big invincibility complex, in this version she’s in an evironment where she’s constantly reminded of her own vulnerability.

Victorian AU: Gotta have that victorian lesbians AU amirite? In this one Pepe (although in this she goes by her actual name, Penelope) is kinda sickly, unhappy, cranky child of a high society victorian family, extremely dissatisfied by her life, bored as all hell and has fun by dressing up as a boy and going around town hitting on girls. The rest of the time she just wanders around being ignored by her family and being dramatic about how her life is empty and dull. Extremely self-centered, claims she gets along better with the common folk than her family but actually has internalized a lot of class society values and gets upset if she’s not treated well. Gets something to do when her father hires a personal assistant who happens to be a very lovely lady and completely unaffected by any of Pepe’s bullshit.

….and now I feel like I’ve written way too much so gonna stop here lol. Long post is long but I was asked to talk more so uhhh mission accomplished?

#asks #long post #god I wish I knew how to make read mores on mobile

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greenhappyseed · 3 years

Text

We need to talk about All Might.

After Chapter 309, everyone seems to be screaming DEATH FLAG (more than normal), and I wouldn’t ordinarily agree given the fakeouts we’ve seen before. However, AM isn’t given much to do yet (except look cute in his sunnies) and doesn’t seem to be in a good position to grow as a person. It makes me sad bc there is a lot of potential with AM, and it all seems pushed aside in favor of Endeavor’s narrative, which I don’t love. As a ::cough cough:: older BnHA fan in a workaholic profession, I want to see the larger hero society narrative use AM to ask if you can be a hero (and therefore of any value to society) when you’re old and/or have less strength/power/endurance than you used to have. What happens when you WERE an equal, and then you lose a step along the way (note there may be a parallel to Bakugo’s/Aizawa’s post-war condition on this theme)? Or, given the focus on teenagers and the role of the “new generation” in rebuilding society, let’s ask whether AM made the right choice in sticking with his teenage ideals through adulthood. Was he right to give up EVERYTHING for his dream, only to crash land into a nightmare? I mean, the dude destroyed himself for years and then watched his life’s work crumble in a matter of weeks. Can he pick himself up, powerless, and still find a new way to help? In BHNA, all of the top heroes have major flaws (a meta for another time!) and a chance at redemption, so I really want to see AM do the same thing.

AM starts the story as the singular, self-proclaimed Symbol of Peace, which was a mission he gave himself as a naive, idealistic middle school student(!!!) Through Nana Shimura, AM received the power to make his teenage ambition a reality and then ... kept at it for 40 years. Alone. Without critical reflection. In Vigilantes, we learn the cost of this relentless pursuit is that AM has no real friends and no social life. Even among other top heroes, he’s not an approachable peer, but the hired gun brought in to clean up the biggest, baddest disasters before he’s immediately called out to the next one. To the extent he socializes after a big win, it’s to talk to the media and sign autographs, not debrief or bond with fellow heroes. The guy has charisma and can do stage banter all day, but he has no idea how to have an actual functioning relationship with colleagues. At the beginning of BNHA, it’s been 20ish years since AM spoke to Torino, 10 years since he spoke to Endeavor, and 5 years since Nighteye. He does keep in touch with Tsukauchi, but he’s more like a “work husband” than a best friend.

When Deku meets him, AM is holding it together on the surface, but is really in mental distress. AM is the first hero in the story whose facade is ripped away (initially to us readers, then eventually to everyone in universe). Unable to do the hero work that defines him for more than 3 hours a day, he seems to spend the rest of his pre-UA time wandering around aimlessly. He’s lost his sense of purpose, has nobody to confide in (he may not “lie” but he definitely doesn’t tell anyone complete truths), and he is indifferent to his own survival. He is certain Nighteye’s prediction is coming true, and he’s looking for a successor because he HAS to before time runs out, not because he wants to. If he can pass on OFA then he can die, ideally in a blaze of glory. And, if not for Deku, he would have let the slime villain kill Bakugo and told himself he can’t save everyone. In Deku he sees his younger self’s ideals and decided his new purpose is to build the next Symbol of Peace, not just do a handoff. With a true successor secured, he can really go for one last big heroic act.

Except it doesn’t work out as planned. Deku — lonely and idealistic himself — desperately needs AM around for approval. And AM, with extra time on his hands, seems to enjoy being needed by his boy, like a parent with a toddler. As hard as they both aim to create the next AM, Deku is his own person (as all children are), which makes the process trickier than either one anticipated. At first AM tries imitating Torino and trains Deku through physical activity and battle, the same way Torino punched a grieving, teenage AM around. AM encourages Deku to sacrifice himself, just because AM also did it for 40 years. But these tactics just don’t work for Deku. AM gets (rightly) scolded by Recovery Girl. Then AM sends Deku to Torino, who teaches Deku Full Cowling and scolds AM for not telling Deku the truth about AFO — and for this one time, Torino is right. Slowly, fuller truths start coming out from AM, and in return Deku learns to protect himself and ask his mentor questions rather than merely imitate. Both begin to grow and change for the better.

After Kamino, Inko uses her leverage to convince AM to stop the blaze of glory nonsense. He wants to be her successor as parent to Deku, and she’s not going to allow it if AM is going to drive her son towards needless self-sacrifice. This seems to take root, and we later see AM openly defy Nighteye’s prediction because he wants to be with Deku. He starts jogging! We even see him confide in Aizawa he has decided to live. Even if he’s not always sure how to give his new life purpose, and he bristles at needing to be protected, he’s accepting his post-pro existence. Progress!

Finally, AM comes into his own as a teacher and member of the old guard with experience to share. He may be using “Teaching for Dummies” as a shortcut, but he’s recognizing his own failings and trying to improve. He tells Deku to quit imitating him, full stop, finally giving Deku permission to become his own hero with his own style. AM takes initiative to teach Deku Air Force, and really guides Deku through the use of the power until Deku becomes proficient. AM also gets actively involved in coaching other students (not as much as he should, but it’s something). AM will similarly counsel Endeavor later, saying Endeavor has to walk his own path and answer for himself why he has his power. AM is building new relationships, new skills, and forming an identity outside of punching things!

Of course, we still see signs AM is a work in progress. Staying up too late at night to do research on prior OFA users for Deku. Diving to protect a woman from a falling streetlight (saved only by a fast-acting Bakugo). At the same time, we see that Deku is coming into his own with his 1A friends. And Deku is no longer looking back to AM for approval (both literally when jumping away and figuratively as part of Deku’s decision-making processes). AM seems both proud and sad, as is natural when a parental figure watches their child become independent.

Fast forward to 309, and a powerless AM leaves all the growth behind to help Deku, Endeavor, Jeanist, and Hawks find the LOV. On the good side, AM isn’t keeping secrets anymore (arguably, telling Jeanist and Hawks about OFA should have involved a consultation with Deku, but okay). Moreover, AM isn’t useless in this fight; he can provide financing, emotional support, police connections, UA connections, and Oracle/guy-in-a-chair backup to the active heroes. But what will this change tell us about AM? Can he ever really get comfortable with this role or is he there just out of duty? Can he actually deliver some hard truths to Deku about AM’s own experience if/when Deku stretches himself too thin? Is this new role respected by the other heroes? If not, will he be tempted to return to battle to be “valuable”? To give his life for Deku so he can claim one last “win” by saving? Or give his life for Deku because he actually loves him and has something personal to fight for? All of these questions bear on where an older, powerless person — that is, an outcast — fits into society and how a lifelong loner can find their role within a group. (Boy, this sounds like a familiar BnHA theme!)

I feel like, if AM dies just to become a vestige, all of these deeper questions are unexplored and we’re just copying Star Wars plot points without any added meaning. I’m not satisfied AT ALL with AM living rent free in Deku’s head and robbing others of his wisdom/experience (which he was just starting to share!!!). Likewise, if AM dies as a plot device so Deku can stand as a hero on his own, or tap into his inner rage or whatever, well, that’s also copied from Star Wars — and it seems to counter what we’re starting to see with Deku calling his own shots and AM supporting. Unlike Torino and AM, who don’t talk for years, I want to see Deku be his own hero AND have his mentor in his life. I want BnHA to keep resisting the absent adult trope, because it’s entirely possible (and realistic!) for grownups to be their own people while having mentors and parental figures in their life. It’s an adjustment for a parental figure to watch their teen become an adult, but it doesn’t mean the parental figure just ghosts and ceases to matter as an influence.

Similarly, if AM turns to sacrifice, it will turn AM’s life story into a cautionary tale with no growth. How can a story about saving people who have done bad things have a good guy succumb to his worst instinct, with nobody to save him? How can AM’s life lesson be “make friends now and learn to give and take in a relationship, otherwise you’ll get too old and it’ll be too late and when you aren’t powerful you’ll have to take a hit to have value”? Even if his sacrifice ultimately allows Deku to win against AFO it feels hollow against the larger narrative. Unlike pre-war Bakugo, we already know AM will self-destruct for others. AM wanting to take on the world alone and die “heroically” is the PROBLEM that drives his pre-Kamino failures, not the solution. And if AM can’t escape this and become comfortable in society post-retirement, who can???

I’m worried we are going to see AM’s growth cut short while Endeavor, Hawks, and the LOV get a shot at redemption, which feels problematic. Of course life isn’t fair, and not everyone gets to have a second act, but it feels wrong for the BNHA narrative to punish someone who is trying (and who wants to help Deku save the villains). Maybe you can argue it’s AM’s fault that the hero society became corrupt, so it’s a cosmic balance for him to die watching it fall. Or maybe the other heroes will realize AM needs their help too (not just Deku) and keep him safe. (Maybe Endeavor will save him in a parallel to Bakugo and Deku.) Much is TBD, but chapters 306-309 make me worry.

#all might #yagi toshinori #mha 309 #mha spoilers #mha #my hero academia #bnha spoilers #mha all might #toshinori yagi #bnha meta #bnha all might

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larryfanficwriter98 · 3 years

Text

Chapter One

-You Are My Favorite Distraction-

It wasn't that Harry didn't love his job. He did and he loved the company, but the building was understaffed, and Harry was doing five different jobs at once. His official title was Chief Media Officer, however at the moment he also filled in the roles of Chief Communications Officer, Chief Costumer Officer, Chief Listening Officer, and Chief Brand Officer. Granted most of those jobs could he pushed into three separate ones however the Manchester Branch wasn't exactly paying much attention. To say he and other Chief Officers were overworked and underpaid for all the work they did was an understatement. It came as no surprise when Janitors started getting fired then lower employees and then finally the first top level employee was let go. Despite Liam, Chief Networking Officer along with Chief Compliance Officer, Chief Operating Officer, and Chief Human Resources Officer, in constant communications with the other Chief Networking Officer at the Main Branch located in London, nothing was ever done about it.

"Hey Haz, what do you think is going to happen?" Liam asked entering his office with his laptop and a few files.

"I think we should probably pack up our desks and find new jobs." Harry said as he continued to type out an email to one of their Manchester customers.

"But which position do we apply for?" Liam questioned.

"Your favorite." Harry guessed with a shrug, "can I help you with something Liam?" Harry asked looking over at his best friend since childhood.

"Yes, actually you can help me decide on what to do if- no when we get shut down." Harry sighed as he saved his work then stood up and rounded his desk, "I like working here...well not here but here."

"Yeah, so do I and I know it sucks because you done everything you could, we all did, but it's not our fault." Harry told him.

"I know that. I just-" They were interrupted by Liam's phone ringing inside his office across from Harry's, "We'll talk later."

Harry has worked for Preserve Earth ever since he was eighteen working in the warehouse having to wear tacky white polo shirts. Back then Preserve Earth was still new and was barely considered more than a small business. They only had biodegradable dinnerware like cups, silverware, plates, and bowls. Standard things. They had just started biodegradable bags of various types when Harry had applied for an office position in London. He had worked in customer service on the second floor for two years. Then the accident happened, and Harry hadn't been able to stay in London after that and had applied for a transfer to the, at the time, new Manchester location. He had started interning with the Chief Media Officer and then had gotten a position as his assistant. Fourteen months after that he had left to train new employees at Liverpool and Harry had been given the job six months later when he decided to stay in Liverpool.

He had been the youngest Chief Officer of the entire company which had gotten a lot of attention from everyone. Everyone had told them it was a bad idea having someone in their early twenties be the front man for the media. The President of the Manchester Branch had stood by his decision and by Harry and Harry had made sure to do his absolute best in his work and it showed by twenty-five, two years after being put in his position Harry had been wanted as the Chief Media Office by large corporate organizations all over the UK and even some from America. The Manchester branch revenue grew in twenty-eight months more than it had grown in the past four years it had been opened. The President had retired soon after and a new president came, and Harry had tentatively brought up social media and how it could grow the business and connect to the customers better and the new CEO had agreed to a trial run of six months. Harry watched a few training videos online and then started ''Preserve Earth Manchester'' social media profiles on Instagram, Twitter, and Facebook. The first two months only showed minimal growth as Harry grew the platforms, but then he wore a pink suit and apparently it was very controversial, and his picture traveled everywhere and then they found his personal Instagram account which promoted his work because he did love the company and he really did love the products. Then the company had to start limiting sales of the products they sold to regular people like backpacks and water bottles and even ecofriendly biodegradable phones cases. Even then it was in high demand and had shipping wait times.

Harry had been called into the President's office while he had been on the phone with the Owner of the company. He had apologized as soon as he entered the room then had sat there quietly for two hours not able to listen to anything they said. When he had ended the call, Harry had wasted in silence for five anxious minutes before he had grinned and told Harry that he was welcome to keep the social medias and that he needed everything Harry had done and read by tomorrow so he could send it off to the other branches. However, they had been a few companies that had left the company as they didn't think a man in a pink suit was a good representation of the company. Or whatever the bullshit excuse was. Every President and the Owner had done a press release stating,

"Preserve Earth is an ecofriendly, biodegradable, and compostable company that is LGBT plus friendly. Our employees are encouraged to wear whatever they feel comfortable in as long as it is appropriate for their position. We encourage all of our employees to be their authentic selves and to be whoever they want to be and to wear whatever they wish to wear. The Chief Media Officer dress policy states and I quote, "The Chief Media Officer must wear business formal attire during press releases that will be aired on television. They are not required, but are encouraged to have their skirts, if they so choose to wear them, at their knee. However, they are allowed to wear them to their thighs, miniskirts are not allowed it must be two to three inches below the bottom. This is to prevent cameras from getting inappropriate shots of a person as they bend, squat, walk up or down stairs, or sit down this is not an act to prevent 'distractions' in the workplace. The Chief Media Officer is required to wear business casual attire to work unless told otherwise." With that said Mr. Styles did not break dress code policy and therefore will not be 'held responsible'. That is all thank you."

Harry had been very embarrassed and had apologized multiple times to his boss, but he had laughed and waved it off.

"Harry I'm forty-three years old and even I know that the world is changing for the better. You can wear whatever you want as long as I do see Harry junior or his two buddies down there. Got that?"

"Yes sir."

"Good. Get back to work kid."

Harry had loved his boss and had been saddened when he announced his retirement only three years ago. Mr. Fritz wasn't a terrible boss right away, but after eighteen months Harry and everyone else got a pay cut. Which...okay it was reasonable since they wanted to divert some of the money towards opening another branch and Harry was paid a lot. Then six months later and there was another pay cut. Then employees started getting fired and well...here they were. Three years with a new boss and completely overworked and fearing they were next on the firing list.

"Excuse me." Harry looked up from his computer to see a woman dressed in a black blazer and skirt combo.

"Yes?"

"I need to speak to Mister Payne where is he office?"

"Directly across the hall he's on the phone at the moment."

"Thank you." Harry didn't bother reminding her he was on the phone and went back to typing when he heard another male's voice coming from Liam's office. Harry paused furrowing his brow as he listened to the conversation.

"Sir-" that was Liam, Harry knew that for sure.

"Your job was to contact my networking officers. Miss Caldor is head of Networking at the London branch. I had to find out this branch was broke was through my financial officers. I understand everyone here is overworked and I apologize for that however you did not do your job-" Harry stood up and stormed across the hall entering the office.

"Who the hell are you talking to like that?" Harry asked only faltering slightly when he noticed the large group of people in Liam's office one of them being the CEO/Owner of the entire company.

"Excuse me." Louis said raising a brow.

"Liam has been in constant communication with Eleanor since he started working here five years ago. They exchange weekly emails he told her when we got the first pay cut then the second then the firings. I've been in constant communications with her for over a year. So don't you dare come into his office yelling at him as if he's on the wrong when it was your side who didn't do their job. We barely have enough time to pee during the day let alone write twenty-five emails to your employee to make sure she takes us seriously. I don't give a damn who you are I will not allow anyone who has stuck out this long with this treatment to be blamed while your bullshit Networking officers spent three weeks in the Bahamas two months ago for doing excellent work while this man has put in one hundred hours a fucking week with three pay cuts in less than two years. Also let's not forget that when you first opened your second branch you promised one to two annual visits only for you not to show up for the past six years. So how about you talk to your officers before you come over here and start pointing fingers at people who barley sleep five hours a night for your company. If you would have let Liam speak before jumping down on him, I'm sure he would have been more than happy to show you the email your officer sent us telling us we are being overly dramatic, and no one can possibly work roughly fourteen hours a day. Which we don't we clock out after ten and work the rest of the six off the clock for free. You're welcome for that by the way. Also-"

"Harry." Liam hissed.

"What? No fuck this guy I have a whole lot more to say to this fuck head who thinks he can just waltz right in here and-" Liam covered his mouth and quickly shoved him out of his office locking the door once Harry was out, "Pansy!" Harry shouted before he closed and locked his office door around his office to stare at the document upfront of him. Harry slowly calmed down and continued working until he was interrupted yet again, but this time by three sharp knocks at his door.

"Go away." Harry said.

"Can I at least apologize?"

"There you just did now go away." Harry groaned when he heard his lock turn and he glared at Liam who held up the spare key Harry gave him out of trust, "you're a traitor."

"Sue me." Liam said pocketing the key as Louis Tomlinson walked into his office.

"May I explain myself?" Louis asked.

"That depends is this going to be where you make up an excuse of stress then I, for whatever reason, forgives you despite you not learning from it and doing it again later on? Because if so, then no you may not." Harry spoke as he continued to type too focused on getting this document finished before his train of thought left him.

"He watches too many Hallmark movies around the holidays, and I sort of messed up his tea this morning. He's pissy."

"And not sorry by the way so if you're expecting me to apologize after you I won't. I shouldn't have snapped nor cursed at you, but I don't regret it. Oh, and this isn't me trying to be rude this is me trying to get these words on screen before my train of thought leaves me for a different task." Harry explained.

"Good luck." Liam said before he was hurrying out of his office.

"What is it that you want then?" Harry asked.

"I apologize I didn't realize my Networking Officer wasn't completely honest with me when she told me of the only email she had received which was yesterday morning."

"Thank you."

"So...we're good?"

"Yeah, we're fine."

"It doesn't feel like we're fine." Harry looked away from his screen towards Louis who admittedly not two hours ago he thought was extremely hot.

"I do not apologize for what I said however I do apologize for the way it came out. I should have spoken to you more calmly and more rationally. We're fine now I do have to finish this template before we all meet up together and discuss what's going to happen next. So, give me like...thirty minutes?"

"Thank you, but you didn't need to do that."

"I'm a grown mature man I know when I'm wrong- well in this case half wrong."

"We'll have a meeting in an hour." Harry nodded in acknowledgement then looked at him when he didn't leave right away.

"Yes?"

"Nothing just... Why haven't we met before?"

"Because I live in Manchester, and you live in London?"

"Yes, but I have visited this office quite a few times."

"I lock my office door or I'm busy on the phone. Besides during the annual gala, we all sort of stick to our own coworkers and don't mingle. I especially tend to stick with Liam and Niall who stick close to the back, so we're not spotted sneaking sips of a flask."

"Right. Well, it was nice to meet you, Harry." Louis said giving him an appreciative once over that, unfortunately, made heat rise in his cheeks as Harry focused on the screen upfront of him.

"Yeah...you too." Louis smiled at him before he turned and walked out of the office, Harry quickly stood up and locked his office door again shaking his head. Absolutely fucking not.

#ceo louis tomlinson #Larry Stylinson #larry shippers #larries #larry fanfiction #larry stylinson fanfiction #business owner louis tomlinson #chief officer harry styles #business larry fic

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sea-dukes-assistant · 3 years

Text

*uncomfortable throat clearing*

Um, I don’t make a fuss about this type of stuff (or maybe I have; I can’t remember), but it has been an absolute fucking train wreck of a year and I’ve aged 10 years since 2016 mentally, and I have Shit To Say.

First, I’d like to thank those of the 1,240-something of y’all who have stayed from the beginning through all the drama, bullshit, and also the growth and the good times. Y’all the real MVPs. Specifically, I wanna holler at Danelle, because she’s probably put up with more of my bullshit than anyone else and indeed proved I can’t get rid of her. *raises beer can* I FUCKIN’ LOVE YOU BITCH DON’T EVER CHANGE.

Um, and the newcomers, by which I mean those who’ve jumped on the Trash Train roughly in the past 4 years for what I’m sure are a variety of reasons that do not include ~*edits*~ and being up my own ass. I know I am an acquired taste (just ask my boss), and for those of y’all who didn’t run away at the first time you saw me use spicy language, respond with swearing birds, and discussed, in varying detail, my desire to *ahem* polish a 30-something year old Sea Duke’s sword. I never promised quality content, but I can promise you’ll be entertained, and I hope, if nothing else, I’ve achieved that. Turning this into a sort of roleplay in combination with actual content is probably the best post-retirement decision I’ve made, because wtf else would I post here with Sir now chillin’ and doing whatever the fuck he feels like? So, YAY ME, and I fully appreciate the support and encouragement for, and sometimes participation in, #WorkingForSeaDuke and #TheDTFChronicles. Writing is not easy, especially when I’m quite literally personally involved in it. It’s been excellent therapy. So has the discovery of that image coloring site, where I can have art therapy and color Sea Duke in all his massive sex appeal and naval badassery.

Lastly, I’d like to thank Sea Duke for helping me get through this year. I’ve been lucky enough to secure copies of both his books of speeches, some new (to me) books about him added to my library, which take me back to the magical time when he was doing stuff.

Also, none of my long, drawn out posts would be complete without me thanking the haters, because their spite for me keeps me going and warm at night.

Anyway here’s hoping 2021 will be better, that the bat virus will fuck off and so will politicians, and that the Red Wings will finally allow less than 4 goals a game now that they’ve yeeted Jimmy Howard.

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honeybeewriter · 4 years

Text

Flowers to cows

Country AU! Tenya iida x G/N reader

AN: I'm frustrated and upset about my work and pay for the week. I feel unpaid and unappreciated. I’m in need of some country boy lovin and who better than iida. You'll have to fight me to get the country au out of my hands. I might do HC’s for the country au let me know if y'all want that. ALSO this is my first time writing for iida so be easy on me .

Word count: 1545

Back in highschool, you got your first job as a florist, all throughout school you kept that job, many things had happened during those years. To name a few: when you accidentally ordered too many of one flower, that time you smacked a customer with a bunch of ferns because he was being hands, or or that time you met the love of your life. That memory was your favorite.

It was an autumn afternoon,months after graduation, you were setting out pumpkins that the local kids had carved for the shop. The flower truck arriving on time to the minute, you greeted the driver as usual “Hiya tenya, what do you have for me today?” The tall male walks to the back of the truck and pulls down the tailgate “Only the best flowers for my favorite shopkeeper” as he sat the tailgate down there laid dozens of sunflowers, bright yellow to warm red, along with wheat grass. “Tenya Iida you out did yourself this year! These are beautiful! Be a sweetie and help me unload them”

You both grabbed a bunch of sunflowers in your arms. Iida watched your form lean against the gate of his truck, a warmth flooded over him as you stood back. The way your (e/c) eyes catch in the sun's light to how your (h/c) hair ruffled in the autumn breeze or maybe it was the way you smiled softly as you gaze at the flowers in your arms, like a newborn child. Iida knew right then after all those years of delivering flowers to your shop, he had to make you his. “Tenya? Can you bring those in please?” You called out to him, you had already walked away while he had been daydreaming “R-right!”

Iida enters your shop and is flooded with the scent of asters and pansies along with a mixture of other flowers, washed over him, effectively calming his nerves. The male sat the sunflowers down on your work table “So (y/n) i was wondering, would you like to go out for lunch this afternoon, i don’t have any other delivers tod-” You let out a chuckle as he talked, he was kinda taken aback by your laugh; but turning around with a big smile on your lips “Tenya it took you 3 years to ask me on a date” your eyes hold so much happiness within them “Of course i would love too” From then on it was history

Years have passed, the original owner of the flower shop has given the keys to you and retired. That shop was your pride and joy. Iida was still out in the field making his money by selling to businesses and to people around town. He made enough money to keep you comfortable but you insisted on keeping your shop.

A few regulars would always stop by to buy flowers, but at the rate of growth of town it would only be a matter of time before your shop goes under. Nobody is in need of fresh flowers, you're heartbroken. Iida notices that your mood is no longer chipper as it was, why was his partner so sad? They could always talk to him, so why weren't they?

Days came and passed each day you would come home in a slump, working yourself to the bone, and for what.. A few 20 dollars here and there at a time. You would always come home and your husband would be on the couch asleep. He works so hard, you would kiss his cheek before going to the kitchen looking for food, and just eating whatever leftovers there were.

The summer rolls around, hot days and cool nights. Today was no different, the same old couple that came in to buy their weekly bunch had just left, when two suited men entered your quint shop.

“Hello gentlemen, how may i help you?” You ask with a warm smile, inside you were shaking like a leaf. You knew why they were there, you couldn't keep up with payments. Iida in the past has offered to pay off the shop but your pride wouldn't let him.

“I think you know why we are here (y/n). We were patient, the money you send us just isn't enough darlin. Under the bank, we are taking the shop, please have all your things out in the next week.” They hand you the notice and leave with sorrow in their eyes. They knew your shop meant everything to you. But no money? no payments. no payments? no shop.

You sobbed as you hung up the ‘Everything must go’ banner outside. People quickly bought out the shop on the same day. A few hundreds in your pocket, as you locked the door for the last time. You rested your head against the glass door “Goodbye friend” tears dribbled down your cheeks as you began your walk home.

Your husband had gotten word from his business men that your shop had closed down, so instantly, he knew you were heartbroken. So he made a plan, he knew it wouldn't fix it but he knew he had to make you happy. Tenya had been super busy the last few months getting things ready for planting, so he had not been able to give you the attention you needed.

As you reached the front porch of your cozy country house, Iida let out a long whistle to catch your attention. You look over to the side swing, your heart skipped a beat. Iida sat with a bunch of sunflowers in his arms.

“Hey Sunshine” A nickname he had given you a long time ago. It still makes you smile. “I know you just lost your shop, I know how much you loved that place, shoot darling, that's how we met. So many years ago, You remember That day?” Iida stood up and walked over to you, setting in flowers on the shoe rack that was set by the door. “How could i forget?” you spoke softly as iida takes your hand, guiding you off the porch, before your off the final step he yanks you softly into his arms.

The deep blue night blankets over the sky, little stars blink like fireflies in the tall grass. iida holds you close to his chest as he kisses your lips gently. You feel your body relax in those farmer arms. You both pull away as iida sets you on your feet. “Sunshine, look. I make enough for the both of us, so you don't have to work” You pouted “darlin you know i can't just be a housewife, i have to keep busy.” Iida listens with a soft smile. “Well, if i remember correctly all them years ago you mentioned something”

“Huh? Tenya iida what did you do!” You laugh, you've said a lot of things in the past so what he was referring to, got you by the ass, cause you sure don't know. Iida takes his cowboy hat that was too big for you off, and places it on your head. It fell over your eyes. “No peeking okay?” He guides you gently around the house, past the small pond and around to the back of the house.

Slowly he took off the hat from your eyes, you blink softly as your eyes come back into focus. In front of you stand a trailer, you give your husband a confused look. “Go on, go check it out” The moment you heard the ‘Moo’ you whipped your head back to your husband

“You didn't” a smile wiggled against your lips. “Did what” He played coy with a smile on his lips. You race over the trailer opening the big metal door, infront you laid a young white and black calf. “Baaaaby” you whined out looking back to your husband. “Is it ours?” He nods watching you wiggle in excitement over the calf.

“I can't believe you remembered me saying if I ever closed the shop I wanted cows.” you slowly eased into the trailer, careful not to startle the calf. Iida leans against the frame watching you pet and coo at the small animal, a loving gaze rest on his face.

“Now will you stay home and let me take care of you?” he joins you next to the calf rubbing your shoulder softly leaning over to you.

“You drive a hard bargain.. Yes only if i can get another one” You smile as you lean closer to him “easy there sunshine… of course we can” He kisses you gently cupping your cheek in his warm callous hand.

The flower shop owner chapter of your life has ended but now it's opened the next chapter. Things will be okay.

#Country AU #BNHA au #my hero academia #Iida Tenya #bnha iida #iida x reader #tenya imagine #Cowboy tenya iida #Let me have my cowboy #my hero academy fanfiction #bnha fanfic #tenya x reader

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essayofthoughts · 4 years

Note

I wanted to ask about your thoughts on tony stark? not sure if u refer to urself as an anti but id love to hear about ur thoughts on my fav boy. I recently reblogged ur post about how tony gets leeway and wanda gets hate and i sort of "reviewed" it but it was more like commentary. to me, it didnt seem like you hated tony but I just wanted to learn more about ur stance on him, if ur up for it :)

For reference, the meta mentioned can be found Here. I’m glad you found it interesting, it’s a personal favourite of the metas I’ve done. I’m afraid that I honestly cannot keep track of your commentary because of the lack of line breaks. It may be that I’m tired but the lack of paragraph separation and capitalisation mean it kind of blurs together for me. I’m sorry.

As for Tony...

I don’t care. I’m not an anti (rather like standom I stay away from antidom as well) but I don’t find him interesting or engaging and I think the fandom has overhyped him and excused him for things he really shouldn’t be excused for, all while condemning other characters (Team Cap in general, Wanda and Steve in particular) for equal or far lesser things. Plus the way the fandom loves to villainise any character that isn’t Tony. The amount of nonsensical villainisation and just... pure bashing from Tony Stans I’ve seen in this fandom means that while I’ve tried to be neutral about Stark I did at one point come very close to hating him - a fictional damn character - before AIW came out and I decided I was pretty much done with Marvel and the MCU fandom.

I’d like to make clear here and now that the reason I came close to hating him was less about the character as he is in the films and more about how completely obnoxious and at times utterly awful (there’s a reason I call them virulent) I found his fans to be.

Here’s my thoughts about Tony: he had the potential to be interesting but he’s never had a character arc so much as a roundabout; he resets every time. He also doesn’t really show lasting, meaningful remorse for things. He expresses guilt but then tries to find ways to fob it off on others (getting the Avengers to sign the Accords when he’s retired because he personally was blamed for something, not the Avengers as a whole), or to fob it off entirely (“This was never my life” he says to Wanda and Pietro who have suffered hugely due to what he uncaringly allowed to happen). When he does accept blame he often ends up making a bigger problem in his attempt to “fix” it, which inevitably leads to his character roundabout cycle.

He talks shit to children. He dismisses and demeans Peter’s efforts with his own initial suit. It takes not only a bomb going off and hitting him but also Yinsen’s own story for him to go “Oh no maybe selling weapons is bad” when he’s forty damn years old and maybe you can excuse some of that because he grew up in a weaponmaking family, but that he then decided that selling them was the evil and that it was fine if the weapons were in his hands -

He doesn’t see the illogic that if his judgement was so flawed in the past how on earth can he trust it’ll be good enough now to wield deadly weapons against civilians as a private citizen.

But oh well, he’s a cis white American guy he can do whatever the hell he likes, I guess. Fandom certainly seemed to think so.

The thing is, he could have been interesting. He could have been, if not good, at least a character playing with some fun questions. The idea of good-guy Tony Stark the fandom so loves has a lot of potential. I enjoy reading fic where Tony is characterised as the films seemed to intend him to be seen as (Infinite Coffee & Protection Detail by owlet does that very well) but the problem is, that isn’t the Tony we get in the films.

The Tony we get in the films is an unremitting arsehole and while he makes gestures of growth he never really changes. At the end of every film he basically resets - I’ve meta’d on Tony’s character roundabout before.

And I just don’t find that engaging. The obsessive hatred some of his fans have for any character they perceive as wronging Tony puts me off further. The outright hate some of them throw at characters I do like and I do find engaging such as Wanda makes me wonder what it is in people that like Tony that cause them to be … like that. To be hateful over fictional characters and bullies to fans of the same series as them.

I have to wonder if the way that Tony quips and insults his way through conversations with uncaring callousness makes them think that’s okay. If they relate to that, and to his lack of apologies, because they don’t want to give apologies or have to grow or change or reconsider themselves.

A character being awful or an arsehole or a quippy clever bastard can be interesting. There are some great characters out there out there, both antagonists and protagonists. There are some straight up fantastically awful characters out there that I find engaging (Hannibal Lecter, Anna Ripley). There are complete dickwad characters out there that I find engaging (Blackadder. Hell, even Gilderoy Lockhart). There are quippy clever bastard characters out there that I find engaging (Percy de Rolo, Moist von Lipwig).

But Tony Stark isn’t one of them. Not to me. Tony Stark exists and that’s fine, but he doesn’t interest me and his fans have made me completely disinclined to watch any films he’s in, read any comics he’s in, or really engage in any areas of fandom where his stans are likely to be because it’s just. Boring and exhausting to me.

I love Wanda. I find other characters interesting. I don’t give a single solitary crap for Tony.

Sorry dear. Probably not the answer you were hoping for!

#mcu meta #mcu fandom #mcu thoughts #sleepdeprived and depressed #ask

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smilepal · 3 years

Note

👹🍊 🏀 🐟 ❤ :3c

Character ask meme for @billlybutcher ☺️

👹--How does you OC act around different people and how does their personality change to match the environment they’re in? How do they act with: friends, family, strangers, children or their lover(s)?

Hiro's personality/how he comes off is very dependent on who he's around. He takes pride in being adaptable to most situations, and being able to keep up a mask, or have people perceive him a certain way. It's easy to act--put on a show, let people see what you want them to see. This, in combination with a lack of fear, and the ability to be charming, at least with his mouth shut--has allowed him to bullshit his way out of situations he maybe shouldn't have been able to. If it seems like you're supposed to be there, and you know what you're doing, you can usually get away with quite a bit? He's quick to put on a front around strangers, depending on what he wants from them. Clients will usually perceive him as someone who's there to get the job done, quickly and without a whole lot of bullshit. He's to the point, often to the extent of being a bit abrupt/and wants to get the whole ordeal over with so he can get paid. If he wants something/is off-work though, he can be pretty charming--especially in the right context/if someone's caught his eye. He's still pretty direct in that regard, albeit less abrasive. He still has a mouth on him though, and that never changes much.

With friends he tends to let his guard down a bit, if they're very close to him--and with family as well. He still holds back a bit though, and it's something he still struggles with sometimes even if he has gotten better over time. Close friends/family are treated to a rare glimpse of a softer side, one that is strangely sentimental, and remembers the tiny details about people--a favorite flower, or song they like--stuff that makes them happy. He's a little hesitant around children, and honestly they scare him a bit. They're small, and have so much energy, and are just all over the place and he's the one to look back at their guardians for help. Despite this, he tries to be nice to them and makes a genuine effort not to seem too scary, and just hopes that none of them think he makes a good role model--something he hasn't been entirely successful with. With his lovers/people who've managed to get beyond the initial instinct to keep people at a distance (at least emotionally) he's a very dedicated, loyal partner. He might not always know how to convey something verbally, or get tripped up and have it come out less gracefully than he'd like, but he's not afraid to show affection through actions and gestures, and is always trying to find new ways to do so--whether that's spending quality time with them, or finding out how to cook their favorite meal for them.

🍊--Does your OC have any triggers? Why do these things trigger them? What are they like when triggered and how do they calm down after?

Hiro has a couple, not that he'd ever be forthcoming about that to others, or honestly, to himself. He's very reliant on his senses, and being deprived of any of them is something that deeply unsettles him/can push him into a spiral if it goes too far--the sense of being unmoored or untethered is enough to make him panic, especially if it's deliberate. He...doesn't do great with feeling helpless, and being cut off from his senses just amplifies that. Even in day-to-day life, he doesn't like complete silence. Being alone with his thoughts is something he genuinely tries to avoid, and dead silence exacerbates it. He tries to maintain at least some small level of background noise--usually the bustle of Night City/ambient sounds are enough, but if he's at home or driving, he likes to have the radio on in the background or music playing quietly.

In general, Hiro rarely lets his guard down, always keeping an eye out, both for his own safety and for others--and if someone manages to take him by surprise, even if it's on accident, he usually doesn't respond great. At the very best, he's fairly defensive or prickly/and if they're not someone he cares about maintaining a relationship with/if was done maliciously there could be a fight. His fight or flight response is strong, and it's just determined by how much he values a relationship. If there's a way out, he'll take it rather than risk an argument, but if pushed far enough, he'd snap at someone, loved one or not. That would usually take deliberate goading on their part though--usually by prying into his business more closely than he'd like or trying to get answers out of him he isn't comfortable giving.

Hiro takes a while to calm down/wind himself down after. He responds pretty strongly, and tries to remove himself from the situation as fast as possible. Typically if it’s really bad, he’s not going to want to talk about it and might just disappear for a bit—he’ll either get on his bike and go for a ride, or go clubbing/dancing. If it’s bad, and he feels like he can’t be around people, he might go spar with a training bag, and try to get some of his agitation out that way. Most of his coping skills are typically very physical—and all things considered, usually fairly healthy outlets. He tries to wear himself out enough that he doesn’t have to think very hard, or just surround himself with so much noise/stimulation he literally can’t focus on anything else.

🏀--Does your OC have any skills that people wouldn’t expect them to have? Do they have a hobby or pass time that others would consider strange or weird? How did they learn this particular skill or pick up this hobby?

Hiro is a surprisingly talented baker. He obviously never had much time for it before he left the Tyger Claws, or the opportunity to do something he’d consider so frivolous, but he picked it up from Mama Welles after he met Jackie. For the fact that he’s still pretty nervous cooking, he’s actually a decent baker, and enjoys how much he can tune everything else out while he’s doing it. He rarely bakes for himself, seeing it as something that isn’t necessarily worth the cost of supplies/the time commitment, but if there was even an inkling that someone else would appreciate it—they’d be quick to find some sort of homemade treat waiting for them when they least expect it—and as he’d be quick to point out—he looks damn cute in an apron. Most of his hobbies are pretty normal—dancing, boxing, rock climbing, and usually fairly physical. He’s been dancing for a long time, but the boxing he picked up from Jackie/Viktor, and the rock climbing from Victory. He also loves to race bikes and this is a definitely a hold-over from his TC days. It’s not necessarily a weird hobby, but people usually don’t expect him to like clothing/shopping as much as he does—and it’s usually where a lot of his extra income disappears to (well that and expensive stuff for his hair.)

🐟--What was your OC like as a baby? What were they like as a child? A teenager? An adult? How do you think they’ll develop ten years into their future? Twenty years? Will they live to old age?

Hiro was a really quiet child—and desperate for any sort of guidance/attention. His role models growing up weren’t good ones, and they definitely used this as an opportunity to manipulate him. He was very approval-seeking, and would take that wherever he could find it, even if meant trusting people he probably shouldn’t have. Granted, he didn’t know much better, but the lesson stuck with him, and it left him a much warier adult. Hiro was a god-awful shit as a teenager. He was still in the Tyger Claws at the time, and there was a lot of repressed anger/trauma there with almost zero outlets. There are a few relationships he maintains from before he cut ties with TC, but they are few and far between, Judy and Viktor being the biggest ones—and even those went through rocky periods.

Ten years into the future, it really depends if he can stay clear of the gangs or not. The likelihood of him allying himself with a corporation is slim to none, but enough bad choices/impulsive decisions might still lead him down a not-so-good path. Twenty years—he’d either be the healthiest he’s ever been, with strong relationships with others, and a circle of people he’s truly grown to trust, or what he absolutely used to dread/fear becoming. It all depends on whether he puts personal relationships/growth over what’s easier for him/seems to come a little too easily, and lets himself get consumed by the darker side of Night City. Regardless, he’d probably survive to old age—honestly out of sheer spite. He’s always been driven by survival/keeping himself alive, and would honestly do so even if only to outlive his enemies. Even into older age though, he’d still try to keep himself sharp. Whatever the case, the likelihood of a peaceful retirement somewhere seems far-fetched. He’d still manage to find his way into the middle of things, even if only unintentionally.

❤️--What inspired you to make this OC? How long have you had them? How have they changed in the time you’ve been developing them?

Oh boy, I’ll try not to get too long-winded with this. Hiro started as an OC for an unnamed futuristic story—probably about two-ish years ago? I’d just seen Bladerunner (as well as the more recent sequel) for the first time, and I’d never gotten too deeply into the genre before. But I realized I wanted to create a character that would fit into one one these universes—someone scrappy, a survivor at heart, and who wasn’t afraid to risk his own safety for his found family. He didn’t have a lot of depth when I first created him (although the name stuck—he was always Hiro, and it never felt right changing it). He initially was a lot less sympathetic, and honestly—even aggravated me a bit. I tried to create a character that was a little more balanced, and someone who had flaws but wasn’t completely unlikeable, and who’s impulsive actions led to actual, lasting consequences. His initial character (even before I fit him into the CP universe) began as a sort of android, who could almost, but not quite pass as human. He still has fairly extensive cybernetics, and relies on them heavily, but not as much as he had previously.

Even when I was first developing him as a Cyberpunk OC, he was more focused on guns/ranged weapons/stealth. It was only after playing cyberpunk, that my play-style began to influence his character and he became much more strength/melee based. And honestly? I’m really happy he did. He’s not my usual type of character, at least in that regard and it’s been fun leaning into it—and making him this character who’d rather punch first and think later. (Also not at all influenced by the fact that I’m impatient as hell and net hacking/stealth just takes so long.) He developed along-side Vic, and her character really helped me to realize how Hiro would interact with other characters—especially ones who have such different backstories/upbringing, and the process of creating him, and being able to bounce ideas off someone else (“hey wouldn’t it be cool if this happened?”) was a huge part in inspiring me, and was so helpful, having someone to respond to that character and provide their own feedback (and vice-versa). Also honestly, Hiro was created after a long period of me not being super creative/artistically motivated. It was the middle of COVID and I was so fucking bored, and not doing much outside of work and classes. So he was an amazing creative outlet for me—helped to get me to start writing again, and eventually led me to tumblr/discord and a lot of really fantastic people, and the sort of community I’d needed.

Wow, uh sorry this got so long. But man, thanks for asking--was really, really fun 😍💖

#aaaa I'm sorry this took so long #character asks #ask memes #hiro oda #thanks for your patience #🖤🖤🖤#character headcanons #cyberpunk ocs #uh got a bit carried away with this one 😅#okay tho they're long questions--ya can hardly blame me #victory delvin #tyger claws #very long post #victory delvin belongs to shinycorvidae #this bitch ended up being almost 2000 words holy shit--wish I could write actual papers this easily 😂

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xmxisxforxmaybe · 4 years

Text

Decryption_Error: “Beneath the Bright Lights”

Summary: As the holiday season begins, Y/N sees a side of Elliot she had nearly forgotten about. However, Darlene is able to hit the reset button for her brother, and Elliot and Y/N end up having a memorable, happy holiday season.

Decryption_Error: All Chapters

A/N: ** Lines/Story credited to the show, not me.

Word Count: 9100

Tags: @sherlollydramoine @rami-malek-trash @teamwolf2411 @limabein @txmel @alottanothing @ouatlovr @backoftheroomandnotbelonging @moon-stars-soul @free-rami @ramimedley @hopplessdreamer @sweet-charmie @polarcrystall @hah0106

If you want added, removed, or if I’ve missed your request, let me know : )

Warnings: Angst, Verbal attack, Marijuana use, Smut (18+ up, please)

Gif Credit: @s-k-y-w-a-l-k-e-r

“We could just . . . not pick her up?”

“She’ll love the organized chaos of a high-society social. Maybe she can even do some networking?”

Even though I couldn’t see it, I knew Elliot rolled his eyes; I chuckled and lightly smacked his shoulder with the back of my hand.

We were on our way to pick up Darlene before heading to my parents’ house in Greenwich to kick off the first event of the holiday social season. Every year, on the Saturday before Thanksgiving, Dad hosted a party for the members of the board and his investors. It was a way to maintain relationships, form new ones, and offer a thank you to everyone who helped with the company’s growth.

The general public was committed to its characterization of what it was like to be an owner of a company on Wall Street—bouncing from meeting to meeting before sitting in an office to bark out orders like a ringmaster in a circus, whose priority was not to entertain but to squeeze the most money out of every person in the tent or to squeeze every ounce of productivity out of every employee. In reality, owning a company meant maintaining a huge social jerk, a near-constant stroking of egos in order to reassure some of the most insecure people, who also happened to be some of the most wealthy people, that you weren’t going to lose the most important thing to them: their money.

This party was especially important because Dad was announcing his retirement. Normally, this created a drop off in stocks because people panicked. Out with the stability they had always known and in with something new. If there was anything people with money hated (aside from parting with it), it was change.

And Elliot wasn’t interested in any of it—he didn’t understand the need for it. Or perhaps it wasn’t that he didn’t understand it, but that he didn’t approve of it and was not willing to risk hurting my feelings to say so.

I had just returned from a business trip in Denver, and I was so insanely paranoid there would be another attack while I was gone. I was the one who had to deal with the brunt of the board and didn’t want to risk placing that kind of pressure on the new Senior Manager, JaLeah, or even Ali. But as of this evening, there were no further cyberattacks on our company. In fact, DoS attacks were down by 15%. Typically, there are surge of attacks close to the holidays like there had been on the Fourth of July.

Elliot’s voice startled me out of my thoughts, asking, “How many people are going to be there?”

“Many, many people, but since it’s at our house, you can hide in my room when you’ve had enough. You look handsome, by the way.”

He was wearing light gray pants, a nice slim-fit chino. He had donned a navy sweater over a white dress shirt and tamed his hair into a side part. He looked nice, normal, at least in the way I knew he envisioned normal.

He reached over and took my hand, pulling it into his lap so he could lace his fingers through mine.

“I missed you.”

“It’s a shame we have to spend my first night back surrounded by other people.”

“Are you tired?”

“Exhausted,” I breathed as I pulled in front of the building where Darlene was staying and threw my flashers on while we waited for her to come out. She wasn’t long, and I reached behind my seat to fish in my overnight bag for the black heels I promised her.

Darlene had her hair pulled up in a ballerina bun and her makeup looked flawless. Her dress was black, fitted, and fairly short with long, lace sleeves. She was currently accessorizing it with a worn pair of high-top chucks.

“You look gorgeous—even with the chucks,” I said as I dangled my heels. “These are the ones you tried on the other night.”

“Perfect,” she mumbled as she unlaced her shoes.

“Feeling conservative, tonight?” Elliot smirked as he peeked around his seat.

“Shut your face, Sweater Vest,” she retorted without looking up.

“I’m not wearing a sweater-vest.”

“Whatever, Mr. Tanner. Isn’t this what rich people look like? Basic black and heels and shit?”

“Is that what I look like to you?” I asked mildly offended and majorly concerned that I looked like a caricature.

Neither Elliot nor Darlene said anything for so long I actually guffawed.

Elliot laughed softly and pulled our still laced together hands to his mouth and pressed a quick kiss to the top of my wrist.

“You look good. You always look nice.”

“Mmm,” I said, unconvinced as I pulled my hand from his grasp to put the car in drive.

We chatted on our way out of the city, mostly about the party and about our childhood Thanksgivings. I found myself scaling back the details of my own in the event that it would seem obnoxiously normal; I didn’t want to feel like I was throwing my happy childhood in their faces. However, it did seem they had some normality with Angela and her parents, always ditching their own house in favor of hers, especially before her mom died.

When we crept up the drive, the party was already in full swing in the heated tents in the backyard, so I pulled into the garage so we could sneak in our bags. The house was full of caterers and servers, so we quickly dashed upstairs.

I flicked on the light to Charlie’s room, which was closest to mine, and Darlene threw her bag on his bed, her eyes taking in the bedroom.

“If you ever need a house sitter, I better be your first call.”

“My parents are actually downsizing their place in the city and moving out here. I can’t remember if I mentioned it, but tonight’s the night Dad announces his retirement.”

“Is that, like, a big deal?” Darlene asked.

“For several million reasons, it is.”

Darlene nodded and said she was going to use the bathroom, if she could find it, she muttered as she flicked on the light to Char’s closet.

“It’s on your other left,” I laughed as I went to my room.

Elliot was on the balcony which overlooked the party. With my heels on, I was just a bit taller than him so I wrapped my arms around his waist and rested my chin on his shoulder.

“Are you going to be cool with all of this? It won’t be as stuffy as the last few parties I made you go to.”

“I’m surprised the tent is big enough to house all of that ego.”

I turned into his neck and inhaled the familiar scent of his aftershave.

“Because you, Mr. Hackerpants, have no ego at all,” I teased before pressing my lips to his neck.

“I don’t use my skills to rob the masses blind.”

I loosened my grip on his waist and stepped back.

“You don’t have to go. I just thought it would be nice if the family was there for Dad’s announcement.”

Even with my loosened grip, I felt Elliot’s body tense. I let him go and he turned to face me, leaning back against the railing.

“I’m family?”

I shrugged, unable to meet his eyes because I feared his rejection when I answered, “Yeah. We consider you a part of our clan now.”

Elliot sighed and stepped forward, his finger moving to lift my chin.

His polychromatic eyes were a swirl of blue and grey tonight, making them seem almost ethereal in the flickering lights from below and the back light from my room. I couldn’t quite read his expression, which seemed to be something I struggled with a lot lately. I wasn’t sure why, but Elliot wasn’t the open book he was when I first met him. Long ago I had theorized that he hadn’t learned to guard himself from me in the early stages of our relationship, like the night we first had sex. His vulnerability had once been laid bare to me, but it was almost always gone now and I sometimes wondered if I had projected, idealized the version of Elliot I wanted to see, the version that needed me.

Elliot tilted his head slightly up and kissed me, a soft sweet kiss.

“Okay,” he whispered against my lips before he pulled away.

Darlene’s clicking heels on the hardwood floor interrupted the moment and we turned to meet her, ready to head to the party.

Dad’s announcement went over well since he said he’d remain on the board for at least two more years. His replacement was a company favorite, a man not entirely unlike Miles with his perfect reputation and his ambition to climb, but I thought he was a good choice, a safe choice.

I left toward the end of the party, my face tired from the banal talk and the even more banal smiles. When I went upstairs to my room after grabbing a spoon, a can of caviar from the fridge, and a sleeve of crackers, Darlene was laying across the end of the bed sorting a pile of business cards.

“Oh! You did some networking?” I said as I emptied my hands and reached to open the caviar. I prepped a cracker and walked over to Darlene before popping it in my mouth.

“Networking for that rich D,” she said with a smirk.

I swallowed, barely holding back a laugh, “Even better!”

I leaned over to take a look at her pile and frowned.

“Can I help?”

“Have at it,” she said as slid off the bed and headed to the caviar.

“Married. Married. Married.” I said as I tossed those cards to the side.

“This one broke Char’s heart last season, so he’s maybe bi? Maybe in denial?”

“Toss. I don’t want your brother’s sloppy seconds,” Darlene said.

“Fair enough,” I agreed as I continued. “He’s nice. Nice. Holy fuck—”

Darlene grinned like a cat as I held up the most coveted number in my social circle. Alexander Strömberg was gorgeous, perpetually single, a tech genius, and a self-made billionaire.

“He overhead me talking about cryptojacking, hypothetically, of course, and before I knew it, he was fetching me a drink and holding my elbow like I was my fair fucking lady. We talked. And we totally made out by the pool.”

I made an incomprehensible noise between a sigh and a slight moan. “He’s gorgeous. And smart as a whip.”

Darlene raised her brow, “He did say he knew you . . .”

“We’ve crossed paths over the years,” I said, looking toward Elliot who didn’t seem to be listening to a thing we were saying. “But neither of us ever made anything of it.”

Darlene finished another cracker before she gathered up her pile of business cards, throwing the ones I warned her about in the trash. She stretched and said she was going to find her way to the kitchen to find something more substantial than “fancy-ass” caviar. I gave her directions and she waved, not bothering to glance back as she headed downstairs.

I stretched out in her vacated spot and used my feet to kick off my heels. I glanced up, angling my head to look at Elliot as his fingers never paused in their trajectory over the keys of his laptop. He had dipped out not long after Dad’s announcement, and he hadn’t even glanced up when I came upstairs. His sweater had been discarded and his white button down was open, revealing his white undershirt.

“I hate these things. But I’m glad everyone knows about Dad’s retirement. I was tired of keeping that secret.”

“Didn’t look like you hated it.”

“I can assure you, I did. Now everyone thinks I’m maneuvering for a position in Dad’s company. I felt like a broken record repeating that I have no interest in leaving the tech side of things.”

“My heart bleeds for you.”

I sat up on my elbows and stared at Elliot, disbelieving of his cold tone.

“What?”

Elliot huffed and looked up from his laptop, and there was an edginess in him I hadn’t seen since Sarah had texted him about the server room. Anger seemed to be surging under his skin, humming.

Elliot’s eyes locked on mine, unwavering in their brutality before they flicked to the ceiling as he leaned his head back and stated, “Why the fuck should I sit here and listen to a rich little girl complain about doing rich people things? Do you understand everyone in that room tonight could cut their salaries in half and still have more money than they could spend in a lifetime? That everyone here, at this house, your house, could effectively end the desperate paycheck-to-paycheck struggles of every person who works for them? I don’t give a fuck if you’re tired from smiling at shitty jokes and drinking expensive champagne and eating fucking caviar.”

“What the fuck, Elliot?” I said as I slid off the bed and stood, the blood rushing to my ears, roaring with the humiliation that was coloring my cheeks red.

He rolled his eyes and shut his laptop, tossing it on the bed beside him as he stood to unbutton the cuffs of his dress shirt. I took a step back, and he didn’t even glance up as he popped the buttons and shrugged out of the sleeves.

“Elliot? Seriously! What the hell was that?”

He brushed past me and walked over to his backpack and dug out a pack of cigarettes. Without looking at me again, he went on to the balcony and lit up.

As I stood dumbfounded and staring at his silhouette, Darlene walked in, saying she forgot her phone as she walked over to my nightstand. When she processed the look on my face and read the tension in the room, she asked, “What’s up?” as her eyes looked between me and her brother on the balcony.

“Nothing,” I mumbled as I looked away and moved toward my desk.

“Tell me. Please,” she added as she stepped in front of me.

“It’s nothing,” I said as I stepped around her and gathered up the caviar and crackers and tossed them into the trash, disgust churning in my gut.

“Elliot’s clearly pulled a dumbass move. If we can’t talk to each other, who can we talk to?” she pleaded, her eyes, so like his, boring into the back of my head.

I pressed my lips together and inhaled, steadying my nerves as I turned to her and explained, “He’s not . . . himself. I haven’t seen him like this for months—I don’t know if I’ve ever seen him this . . . mean,” I finished as I blinked quickly, holding back tears because Elliot certainly didn’t deserve them.

Darlene frowned and for once she didn’t bite out a sarcastic remark. She seemed far away in her thoughts when she finally said, “Think I’ll have a smoke, too. You mind grabbing me a water? Sorta forgot to get one when I was talking to your parents.”

I took the hint and was relieved to get out of the room. My legs felt shaky as I made my way down the hallway, and when I descended the steps, my hand clung tightly to the rail as I continued to fight the urge to cry as Elliot’s dark words pierced through my mind, seemingly stuck in a belligerent loop.

I took a deep breath and steeled my features before I went into the kitchen and made light, normal conversation with my mom and dad.

Even after my parents said goodnight, I sat in the kitchen, replaying what Elliot said. It wasn’t the first time he had expressed himself about socioeconomic division, but it was certainly the first time I understood that he did not separate me from my parents’ wealthy status. I thought Elliot saw me just for me, but tonight proved I was wrong.

Darlene walked quietly into the kitchen and I looked up, not bothering to hide my hurt.

“Is Elliot asleep?”

“Nah. He’s waiting to see you.”

“I don’t want to see him.”

“I don’t blame you, Y/N,” she said, her expression soft as she approached me. “But please don’t give up on him now. Just . . . hear him out.”

I frowned and thought about all the times I swore to myself that I’d be someone Elliot trusted, someone he could count on, someone who wouldn’t leave him.

I nodded and gave her shoulder a squeeze before I grabbed two waters from the fridge. The walk to my room was long as dread settled heavily in my stomach.

Elliot was sitting on the bed facing the doorway as his feet dangled off the floor thanks to the high bedframe. The first thing I noticed was that the change in his demeanor was so stark it nearly made me take a step back. Gone was the edginess, the closed off body language, the skittish glances. In front of me was the Elliot I could read like a book, and when he didn’t raise his head to meet my eyes, I knew he was in the same state of misery as I was.

“I’m so sorry, Y/N,” his voice quiet, a deep sadness wrapping up every word.

“You hurt me.”

Elliot looked up, a flicker of relief on his face that I was being direct with him. He had trouble with ambiguity, especially when it came to feelings.

“I don’t want you to bury your feelings, ever. This life—my life—I know it fucks with your moral compass, the idea that anyone rich can’t be good. But fuck, Elliot. You really came at me, at my family, who, in case you forgot, consider you family, too.”

I was starting to feel angry.

“I know. And I am sorry.”

“I know.”

Elliot scooted forward and stood, taking a few tentative steps toward me.

“Do you have any idea what kind of people were at that party?”

“Good people. Bad people. In-between people. Money doesn’t change that.”

“Philip Price from E Corp was here.”

“Yeah? I’ve known him since I was little. E Corp financed Dad’s manufacturing plant in Colorado—the one that employs over 600 people, in case that mattered,” I sniped.

Elliot said nothing but came closer, watching my face and imploring me to remember—and then it hit me as effectively as a slap across the face.

“Your dad worked for E Corp before he got sick.”

“As a software engineer.”

Despite my anger, I softened, knowing what Elliot’s dad meant to him and to Darlene, as much as she remembered of him.

“What aren’t you telling me?”

“He’s not the only one who got cancer. Angela’s mom, too. And there were over 20 others. All of them working out of E Corp’s Washington Township facility.”

I took some time to think about what I wanted to say next, my anger at Elliot continuing to recede.

“Are you saying E Corp was at fault?”

“Yes.”

“Have you . . . looked into it?” I asked, avoiding directly knowing whether he hacked the shit out of the biggest conglomerate on Wall Street.

“Yes.”

“And?”

“Nothing. There’s no conclusive evidence E Corp was involved.”

I shifted my weight as I thought about whether I wanted to offer my help, the last seeds of my anger dissipating as I looked at Elliot’s sad face.

“Do you—I don’t know how far I could get, but do you want me to look into it?”

“I’ve already—"

“Sure, digitally, you’ve . . . researched it. But sometimes the paper trail can . . . disappear.”

Elliot looked at me for a long time and I would’ve given anything to know what he was thinking as he formulated what he wanted to say, or rather, what he was willing to say.

“I would appreciate that.”

“Oh, Elliot,” I said as I closed the tentative distance between us and wrapped him up in a hug which he returned with equal fervor.

“I feel like I have no control sometimes,” Elliot whispered into my hair. “Everything is out of my control.”

I laughed lightly into his shoulder.

“Control is an illusion, El. No one ever really has it.”**

Elliot’s grip tightened on me, and I fell into his embrace, letting myself believe his apology and naively, so naively believe this was the last of the anger and the apologies.

* Christmas Eve *

My apartment was so hot I debated turning on the air conditioning until Elliot suggested opening the balcony door.

I flung the door open as Elliot came up behind me, pushing me onto the balcony, almost tackling me into the railing.

I laughed and he turned me around his arms, his face split into a grin as he leaned in to sloppily kiss me.

He was drunk, I was drunk, and so was everyone else still at my Christmas Eve party.

Angela and Ollie had stopped by earlier, but they had made a pretty short evening of it. I hadn’t yet clicked with Angela, mostly because she focused all of her attention on Elliot as soon as she saw him. I told him he should hang out with her more often, but a part of me was relieved when he said he really didn’t want to. I didn’t push for an explanation.

Franco and his wife, Gianna, Jill and Jack, along with Darlene and a few more friends were all in attendance. Darlene’s sometimes more-than-friend, a good-looking stockbroker, stopped by around the same time as Angela and Ollie.

Erin, Ryan, and Charlie came, and since Kathleen was on-call, Josh brought Jared and Jack, who both competed with Elliot for the attention of Jack and Jill’s dog, Robert Goulet.

My parents stopped by for a little while, insisting they weren’t going to crash the good times of “the youth” for long.

I expected Elliot to stick to either me or Darlene, but he didn’t. Instead, he spent a long time talking to Franco about his business. Elliot had said once that he would like to do that someday; start up his own cybersecurity business, land a few big clients to pay the bills, but then operate pro-bono for as many small businesses as he could.

I offered him the start-up money and he promptly looked like I had just slaughtered a bag full of puppies, so that was the end of that conversation.

Things had been normal—we had a happy thanksgiving with my family, then Elliot invited me to go with him and Darlene to visit their mother. Darlene went as far as the lobby, but I went to Mrs. Alderson’s room with Elliot. She had suffered a debilitating stroke, most likely caused by smoking, and was mostly catatonic, her eyes only occasionally flicking to Elliot as he sat with her.

Elliot and I never really talked about what happened in my room after the social, so I considered Elliot letting me in to his life by taking me to meet his mother as a way of sincerely apologizing.

But by visiting his mother, Elliot opened a door I was dying to peek into. I tried to open the door and ask more about his relationship with her, but he slammed it shut. For the past few days, I had been warring with myself with whether or not to suggest he go to therapy, and I decided my best bet was to ask Darlene what she thought he’d say if I suggested it.

It was almost 2 am when I finally kissed Jill, Jack, and Robert Goulet goodnight, but I wasn’t the last person to kiss Mr. Goulet. Elliot carried him to the elevator and I had never seen him look so adoringly at anything, but the way he looked at Robert Goulet as he handed him over to Jill was heartbreaking.

Robert Goulet didn’t help matters either by looking back, upside-down at Elliot and giving him a sad, big-eyed glance. Elliot leaned forward and smooched Robert Goulet between the eyes and Jill yelled at me to take Elliot to the shelter to pick out a puppy.

I shook my head and sighed as Elliot waved goodbye as the elevator doors shut. Jill and Jack gave a wave but I knew sure as shit that Elliot was waving at their dog.

“You can see Robert Goulet anytime you want,” I said as Elliot turned around looking sad.

“I love him.”

“I can see that.”

“He’s such a good boy.”

“He is. I take it you and Darlene never had pets?”

Elliot’s expression darkened and he shook his head no.

“Are there any Jell-O shots left?”

“If you didn’t eat them all,” I said with a laugh as Elliot headed back inside to raid the fridge.

Just as I shut the door, I saw that Darlene was shrugging into her coat. She was the last to leave, but I begged her not to.

“Don’t go. I can’t stand the thought of you not being with people who love you on Christmas morning.”

I didn’t miss the way her eyes lingered on mine, an unspoken question of whether I meant what I said.

“Stay,” I pressed.

“If you’re gonna be so up my ass about it,” Darlene said with the least unaggressive huff I’d ever heard, so I smiled and walked over to her give her a big hug and a loud kiss on the temple.

“Eat chips with me,” I said, grinning.

She giggled, clearly still drunk, but not quite as drunk as her brother.

“That dog is really fucking cute,” Darlene said as she gathered up the pita chips and the layered hummus dip.

“His name,” specified Elliot as he hollowed out his cheeks and sucked down the last Jell-O shot, “is Robert Goulet.”

Darlene laughed at the offense dripping in Elliot’s voice.

I giggled at the two of them as I slid my chip through the dip and ended up miscalculating the dip to chip ratio, half of it landing with a splat on the floor.

“Fuck,” I said, contemplating whether I should still eat it.

“I got you,” Elliot said as he stumbled over with a wad of napkins, some of them trailing behind him as he miscalculated his hand to napkin ratio.

He cleaned up the dip and I thanked him when he came back and plopped on the sofa. His eyes immediately slid shut and he had a dreamy smile on his face as he leaned back into the cushion.

“He’s dreaming about that dog,” I loudly whispered to Darlene.

“I know,” she loudly whispered in return.

As Darlene and I chattered and ate entirely too many pita chips, she eventually looked around me to give her brother a wary eye.

“El—you alive over there?”

I turned to look as he jumped a bit at being addressed and vaguely hummed in response.

“Go to bed, dork,” Darlene barked as Elliot opened his bloodshot eyes.

He shuffled to the edge of the couch and looked around like he had forgotten where he was.

“Those Jell-O shots are lethal,” I said with a grin. “And you had a whole fucking tray’s worth when you weren’t laying on the floor with Robert Goulet.”

“Robert Goulet,” Elliot sighed with a half-smile as he shook his head and stood, stumbling just a little.

“Fuck,” he muttered, as he wobbled. “Night.”

We watched Elliot walk in a semi-zigzag down the hall. There was a questionable thump that caused us to giggle loud enough before Elliot swung the bedroom door shut.

“Guess he’s alright,” I said at the end of my laugh.

“He’s fine,” Darlene said with a roll of her eyes.

“I’m glad you’re staying,” I said as I moved into Elliot’s spot, stretching my legs out.

“Thanks for asking me to,” Darlene said with a soft smile that looked just like her brother’s.

“Water?” I asked, reluctantly swinging my feet off the couch.

“I think it’s about that time,” she said, laying her head back on the couch, again, much like her brother.

I glanced up at the TV as I walked back into the living room and handed Darlene a bottle of water. The TV was still softly playing Christmas songs as a fire burned on the screen.

The fake fireplace made me realize it was awfully chilly, and I walked over to shut and lock the balcony door.

When I sat down, I looked at Darlene who had turned her head to watch my movements.

“Spill. You look like Elliot—I can see the indecisive hesitation just about making your head ready to pop off.”

“I don’t know if I’m not drunk enough or if I’m too drunk to ask.”

“That serious? Gotta be about my bonehead of a brother. I swear to god if you’re thinking about breaking up with him, I’ll kick his ass.”

“Kick his ass?” I laughed.

“Yes—because somehow I know he’ll end up fucking this up. Not to, like, shit on your relationship because I hope to fuck he doesn’t fuck it up, but I’m just saying—”

“I know what you mean. You’re a good sister. And a great friend.”

“Don’t get sentimental on me now, Y/N. Spill.”

I took a long drink of my water and put the lid back on, stretching to set the bottle on the coffee table before I settled back into the sofa.

I took a deep breath and asked what I had wanted to ask Darlene since she and I really became friends.

“Did your brother ever tell you about the incident in the Server Room?”

“You mean how you saved his ass from getting fired?”

“About what he did after he got locked in.”

Darlene took a deep breath, her hands in her lap as her chip lay idle in her fingertips.

“He told me that those guys, like, played a prank or something—locked him in with the servers because he kept hacking through their security protocols. He said he lost it and the next thing he knew, you were there. Like a fucking knight in shining armor,” she said, her voice just hinting at being teasing.

I scoffed.

“He didn’t say that,” Darlene said with an eyeroll, “but that’s what he meant. He thinks you hung the moon, Y/N. I’ve never seen him like this.”

“Happy?”

“Not since we were kids. And even then it was less . . . consistent.”

“He didn’t say anything else about that night?”

“No,” Darlene answered, her eyes boring into mine just like Elliot’s.

“I need you to be absolutely positive he didn’t say anything else—are you totally sure?”

“Yes. I am positive that’s all he said. Why?”

After a pause, my explanation came out in a bit of a rush.

“Elliot has no memory of smashing up the towers. When I found him, he was blacked out. I thought it was the head gash, but Jill assured me it wasn’t. She—she rattled off a few things that could cause a person to black out like that.”

“Yeah?”

“Anxiety attack, a reaction to traumatic stress, dissociative or dissociative identity disorder, or,” I paused, “schizophrenia.”

Darlene was quiet.

“The first time I remember it happening was when I was like six, maybe seven. My grandmother came to visit, Dad’s mom, and she was showing us all these pictures from when Dad was little. I remember thinking about how much Elliot looked like him as a kid and being a little jealous because I didn’t. Anyway, my grandmother started to cry and she told Elliot how much Dad loved him, how special he was to him, and Elliot just froze before he started screaming. He told her to shut up and a bunch of shit I can’t really remember, but Mom got so pissed. She dragged Elliot upstairs and locked him in his room.”

It felt like I had swallowed lead as I listened to Darlene, the knot of leaden nerves growing heavier as she continued.

“Once Mom was in bed, I stole her key and took Elliot dinner. He was just laying in his bed, facing the wall like he hadn’t moved all day. I remember—”

Darlene faltered for the first time in her story.

“I remember,” she said finding her voice again, “the look on Elliot’s face when he rolled over. He asked, ‘Did Mom lock me in?’”

“I told him, yeah, she did, and he asked why she hated him so much.”

“I said that maybe it was because he yelled at our grandmother, and I’ll never forget the way he looked at me because I’ve seen it enough times now. He looked at me like he had no idea what I was talking about—like I had just told him some horrible truth he had no knowledge of.”

“So, he’s blacked out since he was little?”

“I’m not sure how young, but that’s the first time I remember it happening.”

“And has—has he ever been to therapy?”

“Definitely in high school. I remember mom being livid when she found out he met with the school’s psychologist once a week.

I don’t know what it was about Elliot that always set her off. It was like he couldn’t ever do anything right. I mean, she was a fucking bitch to me, too, but all of her anger was concentrated on him. It was like he was her trigger.”

“Did she,” I stopped and paused. “This is hard to ask outright. Did she . . . hurt either of you?”

“When I was, like, 8, I found this kitten. Gray and black with four perfectly white paws. She was so little, so I snuck her into my room, even named her. Moonpie,” Darlene said with a wistful smile. “Anyway, I built a little space for her in the backyard and that’s when Mom found out. She threw us in the car, went in and got Elliot, then drove to a lake. She said—she said I had to drown the cat so I would remember that actions have consequences, and disobeying her meant a consequence. I fucking took the cat and ran for it and found her a home far away from that monster.**

I’ve got a million stories like that,” Darlene finished, finally flicking her eyes to mine. “She was a stone-cold bitch.”

I was quiet while I processed Darlene’s story, thinking it alone confirmed why she stayed in the lobby when we visited her mom.

“I don’t want to push Elliot, but there’s something he’s not telling me. Maybe not telling any of us.”

“If you push him, you could lose him. That’s all I’m going to say. How important is it for him to tell you—or us—or anyone?”

“That night at my parents’ house,” I began. “That wasn’t the first time Elliot lost his temper with me.”

Darlene huffed, “That wasn’t—fuck. I don’t know how to explain it, but that wasn’t the same. Trust me. When he really loses it, you’ll know.”

“And he never remembers?”

“No.”

“Do you think it’s an act? A way to release aggression without suffering the consequence?”

“Y/N—this is the most normal I’ve ever seen my brother. Before you, there was nothing. No one. He stayed in and jacked around on his computer. What would be the point of putting on an act for years? It’s not like he was protecting some perfect life.”

“I don’t know. Had to ask,” I said with a shrug.

“I’m just saying that he’s happy now. He’s in a good place—you are a good place.”

“I do feel like he is happy now, but I can’t stop thinking about what happens when he’s not. What if he gets depressed again? What if something does happen between us that isn’t fixable? Then he blames himself and it all goes to shit—again. How many times is he going to go through that cycle before he moves forward and stays in a forward momentum?”

I . . . want to ask him to talk to someone, a therapist, or whatever. Just . . . someone. How do you think he’ll react? Or should I just forget it?”

Darlene sighed as she thought, and I could see her nibbling her bottom lip.

“He trusts you. If anyone can suggest it, it’s you.”

“But should I?”

“I don’t know, Y/N. I mean, yeah. He’s got a fuckton of baggage, but I hate to stir shit up when he’s happy.”

“We shouldn’t have to walk on eggshells. No one’s happiness should be that fragile . . . that temporary.”

Darlene shrugged.

“Just maybe give me a warning before the shit hits the fan so I can get the fuck outta here.”

I laughed softly.

“You always assume the worst—and I get it. Well, I mean I think I understand it. I didn’t live through what you’ve lived through. And hey—this isn’t just about Elliot. If you ever need anything or anyone to unleash on, I’m here.”

Darlene looked at me and nodded her head, almost imperceptibly.

“I’ve made my peace with my shit childhood. But sometimes—"

I waited expectantly.

“Sometimes I wonder how much of it really fucked me up. I don’t—I don’t trust anyone. Like, ever.”

“Are you sure you don’t want a job?”

“What?”

“Considering what you do, I’m not surprised you feel like you have to look over your shoulder all the time. Even if you wanted to just set up a legit business for yourself, I could help you do that. Maybe you wouldn’t feel like everything was about to crash in on you at any moment. You could be totally independent.”

Darlene looked at me like I was crazy.

“You legit see the good in everything, don’t you?”

“I see the bad, but I choose to ignore as much of it as I can. I used to . . . not. That was one of the best things I learned from my therapist. She helped me climb over that wall of impending doom. Granted, it’s still there at times, but she taught me how to confront those feelings so they don’t paralyze me. I know my demons are nothing compared to yours or Elliot’s, and I know I have it easy because I can always rely on my parents to help me. But that kind of thinking leads to its own sort of darkness.”

I just want Elliot to be happy, really happy. And you, too.”

“Thanks. I don’t know if you realize what it’s like to just have someone care. That’s why I love Elliot so much—he’s always cared about me. I’ve never doubted that.”

“You shouldn’t. He loves you.”

“I haven’t always been the best sister.”

“None of us are—we have the longest relationships of our lives with our siblings. We are bound to fuck it up with them on occasion.”

Darlene laughed before growing serious again.

“Just promise me this?”

I nodded.

“If he bails on you, tries to push you away, don’t let him because it’s not really . . . it’s not really him.”

“Okay,” I promised.

“Think Elliot’ll be mad if we open a present early?”

“Oh, no way! Absolutely not! In fact, off to bed with you. Santa has to stuff the stockings.”

Darlene gave me a look of suppressed confusion and happiness, her mouth turning up in a sort of quirky smirk.

“Are you for real with this happy Christmas shit?”

“Yes—go to bed.”

Darlene shakes her head and slides off the sofa. She offers to help me clean up, but I tell her to get some sleep.

“Merry fucking Christmas,” Darlene says as hugs me.

“Santa is going to leave you coal,” I said as I gave her a final squeeze and she told me to shove it.

* New Year’s *

“I’m glad it’s just the two of us tonight. I feel like it’s been a whirlwind of parties and people.”

I brought Elliot his drink, enjoying the soft glow of the Christmas lights that sparkled on the tree Elliot helped me choose and trim. My apartment was over-decorated with lights and garland and the woodsy smell of pine was still strong because Elliot had gotten caught up in the holiday spirit, only pulling back when I told him it was all fun and games until it was time to take it all down.

Elliot’s bright, grey eyes were trained on my face as he said, “Because it has been. I’ve never socialized this much in my life and I don’t even know who the fuck I am anymore.”

“Excellent! I hope I’ve ruined you for any other person,” I said with a confident grin.

“That’s a guarantee. I’ve never been—” Elliot slammed his mouth shut and it would’ve been comical except for the look of horror on his face.

“Don’t do that.”

He shook his head.

“You can’t wait for the hammer to fall all the time. It’s a horrible way to live. You’ve never been what—say it.”

It’s clear Elliot is at war with himself in a Hamletian parody: to tell me, or not to tell me.

I huffed and leaned in to kiss him.

“You’ve never been . . .” I trailed off, a smile on my face as I placed kisses, playful and feathery, all over his face until I started teasing him with little licks under his jaw and down his neck.

“Come on, El. You’ve never been . . .”

I worked my fingers under his shirt and ghosted them along his stomach, feeling the muscles twitch as he fought not to giggle.

“Hap—hap—happier!” Elliot laughs out, unable to take my torture any longer. “I’ve never been happier.”

I grinned at him, his outburst before Thanksgiving feeling like it was a thousand miles in the past, nearly buried after the happy holiday season.

“This reminds me of Memorial Day weekend,” I said, looking over Elliot’s head as I reminisced.

“Oh yeah?”

“Do you remember? After that big meal we made together? We talked and smoked—and cuddled.”

“You told me you wanted to stop time,” Elliot said, looking at me with the slightest smile.

“Because you had me all fucked up.”

“All fucked up.”

“Don’t move—we’ve got one more Christmas present to open,” I said as I hopped up and went to dig around in the opened gifts still under the tree. I hated to put Christmas away until I absolutely had to.

“Here it is,” I mumbled as I pulled the plain black box out of the Kate Spade tote Erin had gifted me.

The commotion on the television drew my attention as I realized we had about a minute until the ball dropped. I placed the black box on the coffee table and looked at Elliot.

“It’s almost midnight,” I said with a smile.

“Yeah? You wanna kiss me or something?”

“I do,” I said with a smile. “This is an important kiss, after all.”

“Oh?”

“A kiss at midnight means we’ll be together for the next year.”

“So you believe in superstitions now?”

“Listen,” I whispered, pulling Elliot onto his feet.

Elliot looked toward the TV as the ball began to drop. When he turned his eyes to mine, I was lost, lost as I realized they were nothing more than a reflection of my own deep happiness.

“3, 2, 1—”

Elliot’s lips crashed onto mine and he kissed me until I was light-headed, straining for gasping little breaths, unwilling to break this moment.

“Happy New Year,” Elliot breathed as he rested his forward against mine.

“Happy New Year,” I echoed.

“I never thought,” Elliot said with a surprising burst of laughter, “I never thought I’d be sharing a New Year’s kiss with . . . anyone,” he finished as he tugged me along with him back onto the couch, both of us plopping down in a bit of a tangle.

I looked at Elliot’s perfect three-point grin and felt my heart skip a beat.

“I think I’ve gained weight,” Elliot chuckled, shifting on the couch as his jeans strained against his normally damn near concave stomach.

“Guess you’re just going to have to forego pants until you lose those stubborn holiday pounds?”

“Oh?” Elliot said, but this time his voice was husky, a seductive purr as he reached for the button on his jeans, sliding it open and opening his pants.

I laughed, “Is this a glimpse into our future? Late nights on the sofa in front of the TV, your pants popped open because you ate too much?”

“Would that be a terrible fate for you?”

“No,” I said, smiling as I leaned in to kiss him lightly.

“What’s in the box?” Elliot asked as he peeked over my shoulder.

“Oh—shit!”

I pulled back and reached around to the coffee table, grabbing the box.

“A little present from Erin—would you like to do the honors?”

Elliot smirked and reached for the box, quickly pulling the lid off. He chuckled as he looked at the perfectly packed, pretty fat joints.

“More than a little present, I’d say,” he stated.

“This is a perfect opportunity to recreate our Memorial Day weekend. Thanks, sis,” I grinned as I got up to find a lighter.

Elliot and I each worked our way through a joint. It was good weed, and my state of consciousness quickly gave way to that fog, that sleepy-happy state of relaxation that only came with a good smoke.

Elliot’s face seemed to be permanently etched in a perfect three-point grin as his head rested on the back of the sofa, his eyes closed.

“What’s got you grinning?” I asked, feeling every word on my tongue as I continued to watch his face, the Christmas lights in my peripheral all blurring together so prettily.

“Guess what?”

“What?”

“We’re more than friends now,” Elliot said as he opened his eyes, lazy and half-lidded, his grin still planted on his face.

I chuckled as I slid onto Elliot’s lap and pushed his chin up so his eyes were locked on mine. I traced my fingers over his brow, his nose, his cheeks, his jaw, his lips, and I pulled back and reached for his hands.

I kissed across the knuckles of each of his hands, looking for any mark, any tiny scar from the incident in the server room, but I found none—it was like it had never happened, except that here he was, underneath me and looking at me with eyes that didn’t bother to hide the love he felt, and it was all because of that terrible night.

If good didn’t exist without condition, then maybe bad didn’t either?

“If it never happened, we wouldn’t be here now, would we?” Elliot asked, reading my thoughts.

I shook my head slowly as I let his hands fall to resting on the top of my thighs, near my hips.

“This face, El,” I breathed as I scooted closer to his body, “If I could draw, I would replicate it in all its perfection. And in your eyes, I would write the thousands of truths you carry inside so I could read them, know them, and in turn, know you.”

I was high—but I wasn’t so sure it was the effect of the weed anymore that made me feel so lightheaded.

Elliot’s eyes filled with a desperate sort of desire, and I wasn’t entirely unconvinced it was because he wanted me to stop talking, wanted me to stop looking at him so deeply.

“You do know me. And you love me anyway.”

“I love you because I know you.”

I kissed him gently, then with a sense of urgency, and again, it could have been attributed to the high, but I was suddenly filled with a sense of paranoia, a thought that nothing would ever be this good again, that nothing would ever be like this night again.

Elliot’s tongue twined with mine as his fingers gripped my hips. I broke the kiss and pushed his head back so I could have access to his jaw and his neck. I licked along the sharp line of his jawbone before I placed sweet kisses down his neck. As I worked my way back up, I deepened those chaste kisses, sucking lightly in spots until Elliot’s fingers were threatening to snap with his tight grip.

“Touch me,” I whispered in his ear before I pulled the lobe into my mouth and sucked.

His hands moved, sliding under my shirt and going straight to unhook my bra. His nimble fingers managed it quickly and he switched his angle so that he was now massaging my breasts as they dropped free from my loosened bra. Elliot’s fingers were simultaneously working my nipples and I felt a rush of arousal between my thighs.

I was working the other side of his neck now, still pulling breathy moans from his throat, as Elliot began to tug at my shirt, trying to get me out of it and my bra. I sat back just enough to help, tossing the pile of fabric over the back of the couch. Since I was already leaning back, I reached for the hem of Elliot’s sweater and pulled it over his head. He had forgone a t-shirt underneath tonight and I was delighted to be able to dip my head and lick along the top of his chest, placing wet kisses across his skin and then onto the smattering of freckles that dotted his shoulders.

I pressed my body into his in a tight hug, my eyes rolling back a bit at the sensation of warm skin on warm skin.

Elliot moved forward, wriggling to the end of the couch and he stood up, after a moment’s struggle to get his hands under my thighs. I hooked my ankles together and he carried me to the bedroom, laying me on the bed and sliding into place between my legs.

I was still lost in the warm feel of our torsos, pressed together as Elliot’s hands pushed my arms up over my head so he could touch as much of me as he could reach, fingertips to waist, he ghosted along my skin until it broke into gooseflesh and I shuddered.

He was watching me with those big eyes, memorizing my face in yet another moment of passion before he pushed himself up so he could kiss across my chest.

Elliot’s lips quickly found one of my nipples, and I felt another flood of arousal as I watched his full lips pucker around it as he sucked. I ran my fingers up the back of his head and tangled them in his hair, enjoying the soft thickness.

Elliot let go with a slight pop and blew a cool stream of air over the wet patch, causing both nipples to grow impossibly hard and even more sensitive. Elliot smirked as he kissed his way to my other breast and repeated his sweet torture.

By the time he was kissing his way down my stomach, I was done, squirming with desire, the muscles of my abdomen twitching under his tongue.

“Stop,” I breathed. “Stop, stop.”

Elliot froze and looked up with wide-eyes, and I pushed out from under him.

I stood and shimmied out of my jeans and panties.

“Lay down,” I instructed, and Elliot’s face relaxed as he realized I just wanted to switch positions.

Elliot’s jeans were already falling off his hips, so with a good tug, I pulled them off and made quick work of his socks and his underwear. I took a few seconds to let my eyes rake over his naked body, his muscles taught, his cock hard, his eyes soft.

I smiled and kept my eyes on his as I straddled his hips. Elliot reached down to grasp himself, and he ran the tip of his cock through my wetness. I stayed poised above him, and I reached up to grasp his jaw, my thumb caressing the spot between his lower lip and his chin. When our eyes were locked, I lowered myself onto him and we groaned together, both overwhelmed at both the sensation and the feeling.

I moved slowly, watching his mouth form a tight line as he struggled against releasing his pleasure.

“Let go, El.”

Elliot’s eyes swept over my face before he exhaled, his mouth falling open. He ran his hands up my thighs and swept around to grasp my hips. I loved the feeling of his strong hands on me and I sped up my movements, his cock hitting just the right spot.

I wanted him so much and my high had worn off to a quiet buzz, I knew my orgasm wouldn’t take long to achieve, but I wanted to come with him tonight—I felt a desperate need to be in sync with him, to be as close to him as I could be.

We were both covered in a light sheen of sweat, our bodies hot, flushed.

“Close,” I breathed.

“Y/N,” Elliot said in a moan. “Y/N, Y/N, Y/N.”

Elliot’s deep, raspy voice saying my name, again and again, drove me toward the edge, and I sped up my movements, my hands clutching at his chest as I began to bounce in earnest.

“Fuck,” Elliot hissed. “I’m coming.”

And my walls clenched at his warning, squeezing around him while he emptied himself inside of me, his heat spreading over my inner walls, making me feel so connected to him as we both worked through our climaxes. Tonight, like our first night together, wasn’t about fucking; it was about feeling, about us showing one another everything we didn’t want to taint with words.

We stayed connected, arms and legs tangled, but we said nothing—nothing needed to be said, and soon Elliot’s head was settled on my chest in a haunting, much more intimate mirror of the first, chaste night we had ever spent together.

Surrounded by everything that was Elliot, I knew I wanted to forget about the incident at my parents’ house, so I did, pushing it away until I thought it was gone.

I felt Elliot relax, falling asleep in my arms, but as this Elliot, my Elliot fell asleep, another part of him was waking up, that angry part of him I wanted so desperately to forget wasn’t going to stay asleep for much longer, and it would be all my fault.

#Elliot Alderson #elliot alderson x reader #elliot x reader #female reader #rami malek #rami malek character #mr robot #mr robot fanfiction

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cofffeeekinks · 4 years

Text

Katsune no Hanayome Ch. 4

Hey, everyone. :D

This is a commission multi-chapter fic, for @eggyboi13, who has been so patient with me in regards to how long I’ve been taking to get this out. I’m hoping to get a new chapter out every Friday.

AO3

If you want to show me your support, consider asking for a commission (only for art though) or leaving a tip in my ko-fi.

—-

Katsune no Hanayome Chapter 4

Rated: Mature (18+)

Trans!Bakugou Trans!Todoroki Trans!Kirishima

Later chapters will contain things such as: s e x , lots of it. Heavily pregnant s e x.

[Chapter 1] [Chapter 2] [Chapter 3]

It was strange for all of them to see their stomachs so full and bloated with cum. Throughout the past few years, they had each trained hard and their bodies were tight and sculpted -- of course, until Izuku got a hold of them. He filled them up every night, then plugged them. Every night adding more and more of his blessed cum into their wombs.

Every time the three would go take a bath, they’d see how much each other had grown from the previous day. Katsuki had the most cum in him, by the end of the week he looked like he was nine months pregnant and he walked with a cute little waddle. This, was of course due to his competitive nature, as he wanted to show the other two that he could hold more inside him than they could. Little did he know what such actions would entail for him.

While Katsuki looked like he was about to pop, Eijirou and Shoto both looked around six month pregnant.

After their baths, the retired to their shared bedroom. Eijirou laid on his back in the nest of pillows. His belly loomed over him, he patted it and he could feel the liquid sloshing around and he asked, “What if, what if we really are pregnant?”

“I doubt it.” Katsuki replied, “It’ll take more than a few nights of fucking, especially because we’ve been on testosterone.”

“Yeah.” Shoto agreed, “There’s no way we’d all be able to release eggs so soon.”

Oh how wrong they were.

Once their plugs were removed, a few interesting symptoms began to arise, you know, the nausea, the vomiting, the headaches, and exhaustion. Yes, they were all aware these were symptoms of pregnancy, but such symptoms don’t usually occur until weeks after implantation of the fetus. Not days.

“Is everything okay?” Izuku asked the men during breakfast one morning, “You guys don’t seem to be eating, is there something wrong with the food?”

“No.” Katsuki was the first to answer. “Err, you know what, yes. All this damn food you’ve been giving us is poisoning us, isn’t it?” he accused.

“What are you…”

Katsuki stood up, although a little too quickly. The room spinned just a little, and he felt his stomach churn angrily. He leaned forward with one hand on the table to balance himself and the other on his slightly swollen abdomen, “Listen, we’ve all been feeling like shit. We are all starving and craving for food, but everytime we we eat something we get sick and yet our bodies want more? There must be something in the food that’s making us hungry and sick and --”

“Oh, you mean, you don’t know?”

“Know what?” Eijirou asked, taking a drink of water, he felt dehydrated from his recent visit to the bathroom.

“You’re all pregnant, I can smell it on you.” Izuku announced.

“No, we are not.” Shoto insisted, shaking his head, “There’s no way…”

“It’s not that bad.” Izuku went on to explain. “You’ll only be pregnant for about a month, but during that time the kits will grow quickly. I’m actually surprised none of you knew.”

“Because that’s not how it works.” Shoto stood up, and argued, “No one is able to have a complete pregnancy within a month, and besides I’m not pregnant.”

“Shoto, but --.”

“I’m not!” Shoto shouted, and stormed off from the dining room toward his bedroom.

Katsuki growled, then glared at Izuku, “Listen, if you’re lying --.”

“I don’t think he’s lying.” Eijirou interrupted, placing a hand on his belly. “I -- I feel different Katsuki, like, like I’m sharing my body with, I -- I don’t know.”

Izuku smiled, “Why don’t you two go to your rooms and get some rest?” he suggested. “I’ll go check on Shoto.”

Shoto, however, did not want to be checked on. He laid curled up in his bed, telling himself he was just sick. That’s all this was. He had a cold that made his -- his breasts swell and…

He screamed into a pillow as soon as Izuku began knocking on his door, “Shoto? Are -- is everything okay?”

“Why do you care?” Shoto shouted back, “You’re lying to me, telling me I’m pregnant! I can’t -- I can’t do this, I’m not pregnant.”

“Listen, I’m sorry but…”

“Go away!”

And Izuku did just that.

He left Shoto alone and Shoto stayed alone for five days. Shoto spent most of those five days crying. He wasn’t ready to have children, yeah, sure Eijirou and Katsuki seemed okay with it but he really wasn’t. Maybe it was a mistake to stay here. Maybe he shouldn’t have allowed himself to be so easily swayed by Izuku’s sweet advances.

This was dumb.

This was all fucking dumb.

Every day Shoto saw his middle grow and his breasts become more tender. He hated this. And then, one night he felt something stir within him. He opened his robe and pressed a hand against his stomach, seconds later movement wiggled beneath his palm.

---

One evening, Eijirou passed Bakugou in one of the halls, he smiled, waved and teased, “Looking kinda thick around your middle, aren’t you?”

“Shut up,” Katsuki put a hand on his domed belly, already sticking noticeably outward, “You're just jealous you’re not as big as me yet.”

“Hey, not everything has to be a competition.”

“Whatever, but uhm, quick question.” Katsuki leaned in and whispered, “Have you been having any odd cravings, lately?”

“Yeah!” Eijirou confessed, “I’ve been really wanting some mochi, or umm, a strawberry cake with --,”

“No, not like that!” Katsuki interrupted.

“What do you mean then?” Eijirou inquired.

“I -- I have been wanting to eat sand.”

Eijirou laughed, and repeated, “S-sand?? You want to eat sand? Dude! That’s not even food!”

“I fucking know that.” Katsuki grumbled, then glared down at his belly, “Oi, babies stop with sand cravings!”

“What did they say?”

Katsuki grabbed Eijirou’s hand and put it over his stomach, “Do you feel that?”

A gentle flutter of movement rippled under Eijirou’s hand, “It's moving -- and it sounds like they’re saying noooo.”

Katsuki rolled his eyes then invited Eijirou into the kitchen with him so they could eat. Not sand, of course, the cooks wouldn’t allow that. But they could certainly cook them up something with a similar texture.

Katsuki never thought he’d be pregnant, but now that he was and he could feel his little babies coming to life inside him, he decided that maybe being pregnant wasn’t all that bad. And then he met Izuku’s mom, who was able to tell them how many babies they were carrying.

“I see six little souls within you.”

“S-six!?” Katsuki repeated, his eyes were wide and both hands were resting on either side of his belly.

“Yes. That’s right.” she confirmed.

Eijirou began howling with laughter, only to be punched lightly on the shoulder. It still wasn’t enough to shut him up completely. Not to mention he was happy to only be having triplets, basically half of what Bakugou was having.

While Inko was speaking to Katsuki and Eijirou, Izuku decided to see how Shoto was doing. Shoto opened the door and the first thing Izuku noticed was his new, little belly that was bigger than Eijirou’s but smaller than Katsuki’s. He looked really cute.

“Hey, um, my mom is here and she, well...would you like to know how many babies you’re carrying?” Izuku asked. “You look amazing by the way, and she would really love to meet you.”

A little flutter waved inside Shoto’s belly, it was like the babies knew Izuku was close. He gently placed a hand on his stomach and smiled, “Yeah, okay.” Four babies.

Shoto was pregnant with four little pups, he sighed and thought that maybe being pregnant wasn’t going to be that bad.

---

Even though they were aware that their babies were going to grow quickly throughout the month, just knowing didn’t make up for experiencing it. For one, they were always hungry and each one craved a different thing.

Shoto was always in the mood for something spicy. Even though it gave him some mild heartburn and it excited the pups a little too much.

Eijirou was surprised that he actually wanted sweet things. Before he got pregnant, he never thought about eating things like cookies, brownies, candy, and even ice cream. He just never had the taste for foods like that, but now, oh now did he love his ice cream. Izuku could feed him a whole gallon, fuck him, then feed him another afterward. Although, he did sometimes want to eat rocks. And to keep him from actually eating one, Izuku had his servants make chocolate but paint them to resemble rocks.

Katsuki, who was carrying the most babies, often found himself famished, even just after half an hour from a big meal. He loved raw meat. Izuku told him it was a natural part of a kitsune’s diet, and he wouldn’t have to worry about parasites or bacteria in the raw meat Izuku provided. It was always a common sight for Katsuki’s belly to grow a good three or four inches during a meal of raw meat.

Food wasn’t only the only thing these guys desired, but their hormones always wanted some touch. After watching Katsuki’s belly have a massive growth spurt of six inches during a very big meal, Shoto and Eijirou felt themselves get a little hot and bothered.

“You’re such a hungry boy aren’t you?” Eijirou said in a low tone, rubbing circles against Katsuki’s belly.

“Shut up…” Katsuki let out a burp, “I don’t think I can get up.”

“Well, maybe you don’t have too.” Shoto leaned in and kissed Katsuki deeply, he could taste the raw meat in his breath.

Eijirou then nibbled and sucked on Katsuki’s neck as one hand undid the belt on his robe allowing freedom to a very full and pregnant belly. Shoto then gently eased Katsuki onto his back while Eijirou made his way “downstairs.” Eijirou’s tongue lapped up Katsuki’s slick and sweet liquids rolling out of him while Shoto’s tongue caressed the inside of his mouth.

Katsuki’s breath came in deep and sharp every time Eijirou’s tongue found the perfect spot. Shoto bit down on Katsuki’s lip, making him moan. He wanted to shift his hips, to buck them forward and have Eijirou go in deeper but his belly was too heavy and it weighed down his hips.

“Don’t tease me like this…” Katsuki breathed, “Come on, if you’re gonna stick something in there at least go deep.”

This led to Eijirou pounding into Katsuki from behind with a strap on, Shoto was fingering his clit all while Katsuki nibbled and licked at Shoto’s breasts. Eijirou could feel a heat radiating out of Katsuki’s backside and against his thighs. Katsuki could feel Eijirou’s pregnant belly resting on his back, the babies rolled and moved inside the both of them excitedly.

Katsuki’s breath was warm against Shoto’s erect nipples, with every sucking breath did he provide Katsuki with some ecstatic pleasure. Katsuki leaked all over Shoto’s hand, his insides slick from Eijirou’s playfulness.

It was then that their husband returned. He could smell the pheromones all the way from the front door. As soon as he stepped in the room, the unborn babies began to kick and wiggle, wild with excitement. Their bellies changed shape with the rapid waves of kicks and punches all from the inside, extending outward.

“Don’t the three of you look absolutely beautiful?” Izuku commented as he began to disrobe himself, his dick was already fully erect, “All three of you have grown so thick and hot with my seeds, I can’t wait to continue to watch you get bigger with each passing day.”

He then joined the fun. He inserted his dick into Shoto’s pussy, while his tails inserted themselves into any hole that wasn’t already plugged up.

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luminousbeansarewe · 4 years

Text

wandering stars

ch 12: clean slate

pairings: none || rating: teen || characters: original characters, original clone trooper characters

tags: talking about medical procedures

chapter list

tagged: @yourbitchystudentartist @lordimperius (message me or reply if you’d like to be tagged!)

*************************************************

Kamino, Tipoca City, Clone Military Education Complex, 22BBY

Sol waded into the long, narrow paths between the mess hall tables with habitual apprehension. Six months had gone by with her having to choose the seats that were the farthest away from anyone else, and despite the fact that her first day back in training had gone much more smoothly than ever, she hadn’t considered just how fundamentally things had changed.

So, when Grip called out and waved her over to where Cronos Squad was sitting, she almost suspected a trick. “Sol! Over here!”

“Uh, hey,” she said, voice quiet as she approached the table.

“Nice job targeting today. You’re almost as good as me,” Swift joked with a sly grin.

“Hopefully one of us beats you someday, takes you down a peg,” Twofer commented dryly. Stone was scooting over, making a place for Sol to sit between himself and Grip on the long bench seat. She put her tray down and climbed into the vacant spot, jaw a little tight.

“Vor’e,” she said to Swift. “Today was... good.”

“Except for the kriffing hand-to-hand. In which case, you kicked all our shebs,” Grip pointed out. “Which was good for you, I guess. Have you been holding out on us all this time?”

“Well… yes,” Sol replied awkwardly between her first few bites of food. Mostly because she didn’t need the clones being pissed off about losing to her on top of everything else. But the energy had been different, that day, like they’d wanted her to go all-out.

“Hell,” Twofer muttered. “You trained before you got here, right?”

“Quite a bit.”

“With the Jedi?”

“Just a little. Before that, my father trained me for most of my life.”

“He must’ve been pretty good,” Swift said. “You took us down with your bandages still on.”

“He was.” Her tone was heavy, but she pulled it back in. “He was a bounty hunter.”

“Not all bounty hunters are that good with hand-to-hand,” Grip said.

“How would you know?” Sol laughed. “Have you ever met one?”

“Many of the Mandalorians who’re training us here have been bounty hunters,” Stone said. “And our template, Jango Fett, was as well.”

Sol blinked. Jango Fett was the genetic template? For all of these men? His was a name that echoed through her memory, but it did so because he was the object of envy and reluctant admiration from every bounty hunter Sol and her father had ever met. Of course, his actual origin was a mystery— he’d worn a Mando helmet, but the official word had been that the Mandalorians wanted nothing to do with him. Her father had avoided him, regardless.

“All bounty hunters aren’t good at unarmed combat. But all Mandos are,” she said, swallowing her surprise with a bite of her dinner. All the eyebrows at the table shot up, and the boys all glanced between each other with curiosity.

“You sound pretty sure about that,” Swift said with an obvious lead in his tone. Sol, realizing her misstep, advised herself silently not to speak ever again.

“Mandalorian skill in fighting is legendary,” she pointed out, as though she had no personal knowledge of this herself. It was a weak fallback, and she knew it.

“Yeah, but you also know an awful lot of Mando’a, too,” he replied, a smirk sneaking over his expression. “How’s that, exactly?”

“How do you all know so much Mando’a?” she countered weakly. Not being bonded with any of these men before now had really screwed up her game of laying low. She felt like an idiot.

“We’ve picked it up from the trainers,” Twofer said. “But it’s sort of in our blood, if you think about it.”

“Are all the trainers here Mandalorians?” She’d almost never seen anybody but the clones, Shaak Ti, Sergeant Apma, and the Kaminoans. But she hadn’t been everywhere among the facilities; hell, she hadn’t even been everywhere in the Military Education Complex.

“Here in the commando units, they mostly are. Jango picked ‘em himself, and there used to be nearly a hundred of them,” Grip replied. “After Geonosis, many of them retired. But Apma and a few others stayed on to train the likes of us. Last batch of Alphas, and all.”

That settled that, she thought. Fett was a Mandalorian, or else none of them would have come at his call.

“They giving you lessons?” she asked, tone dry.

“I know they’re not giving you any,” Swift said, pressing his agenda firmly. “So, you gonna tell us about that?”

Sol looked between the men around her with a dubious expression. They’d only just begun to treat her like she was allowed to be here; it was far too soon for her to trust them. But some part of her, a part that she rarely engaged with, wanted to. The camaraderie between them was more than just that of regular soldiers. It was infused with what she’d always imagined were Mandalorian sensibilities, the same ones that had kept her father troubled even as he cursed them.

But, it was something else, too. They were created, literally designed for war, and bred inside of tanks (she’d seen the growth chambers once, and found them strangely disturbing) and trained from birth to fight. They were clones, and that singular and very strange reality knit them together in a way she knew she would never understand. Something inside her wanted to believe these men could find a place for her among them, but it leaned sharp against the fact that she could never truly be one of them. And assuming they’d not miss her when she was gone had already caused her to reveal too much, anyway.

“I might tell you,” she replied finally. “One day.”

“Awwww,” Twofer booed, Swift and Grip joining him. “C’mon!” But she only shook her head a little and gave a small smile. Swift threw his hands up into the air.

“Alright. I can wait. I’m patient,” he announced, lowering his hands to cross his arms over his chest and lean back. Grip snorted at that.

“I’m not,” Twofer said with a snicker. “I’ll keep asking about it.”

“And I’ll keep not telling you,” she replied coolly.

“Don’t harass her, vod,” Stone said to his brother. “We may just need to earn it.”

“That’s fair,” Grip nodded. “We deserve that.” Sol had to admit she appreciated their acknowledgement, however indirect, of their past sins.

“In that case,” Swift said, raising a brow at her, “can you at least tell us about that hair?”

Sol frowned, her hand flying unconsciously up to the side of her head where pins held said hair up in a bun behind her head that was trying valiantly to be neat. “What about it?”

“How much of it is there?” Grip asked.

“How do you keep it under your bucket all kriffing day?” Twofer added.

“It’s so white,” Stone said, looking at it almost with awe. He knew better than to ask if it grew in that color; her white brows and eyelashes gave that away.

“I mean, you’re human, right?” Swift asked. “But you have pretty strange features, for a human.”

“My mother was half Ferroan,” she said, hand falling back down to her lap. “So I’m still mostly human. She didn’t have their blue skin. The white hair is a dominant genetic trait, but my eyes are a recessive trait.”

“Did she have gold eyes and white hair too?” Stone asked.

“Yes.”

“Huh.” Twofer was rubbing his chin thoughtfully, as though he was trying to remember how dominant and recessive genes worked.

“Are you ever gonna cut it? It looks like more trouble than it’s worth,” Swift remarked. Suddenly his face fell. “I don’t mean it looks bad, just— ”

“Really can’t fathom sticking it up under a helmet all the time,” Twofer said, shaking his head, “is what he meant.”

“It’s not that hard,” Sol told them with a chuckle. “I just… wrap it up. Like this. It’s messy at the end of the day, but not unmanageable.”

“I think it’s beautiful,” Stone said with a smile. He was still gazing at her hair, entranced, which was actually rather endearing.

“Stone wants to grow his out once we get outta here,” Grip informed her. “He’s just jealous.”

“None for me, thanks. You two go right ahead and grow your tresses. I’d like a tattoo, though. I hear once you’re in the GAR you can get whatever you want as long as it’s not… yanno. Vulgar, I guess.” Swift made a face, like he wasn’t sure what that really even meant, rule-wise.

“Or if it’s vulgar, it better be under your armor, ey?” Twofer chimed in, snickering and elbowing his brother.

After that, the table devolved into playful antagonism, and Sol lost track of everything the clones talked about. She chimed in sometimes, but mostly she just watched them and smiled. It was a strange experience, like being inside her own special transparisteel box while they acted like they always had. Eventually the squad was ushered out of the dining hall, and they lured her into a quick game of grav-ball in the rec rooms until lights-out. She moved through it all while watching herself, there and yet strangely far away. She wondered when she would believe these men who had so suddenly offered her their favor.

That night as they all climbed into their little sleeping tubes, Swift leaned over towards her while she was getting comfortable.

“How’re you feeling?” he asked, and she noticed how quiet his voice was below the chatter of their neighbors. He was a persistent one.

“What do you mean?” She feigned ignorance, but kept her voice low as well.

“You know what I mean,” he said flatly.

“No, I—”

“Sol.” Now he was frowning. “Your pain thing.”

“Kuur,” she hissed, and he saw the frustration on her face. “I’m fine, Swift. Don’t worry about it.”

“Hey, don’t shoot me for being concerned!”

“That’s not what I’ll shoot you for,” she muttered, arranging her blanket with undue busyness.

“Then what is?”

“Telling anyone.”

“Sol—”

“Not a single soul. Nobody.” Her look was fierce, and it was evident that this topic really made her uneasy. Which, she had a bad feeling, would do the opposite of get him off her back. “Tayli’bac?”

“Okay, okay, I won’t,” Swift grumbled as he began to lie down. “Ori’haat.”

“Vor’e.” She slid onto her back and tugged the blanket up around her chin. The clone just nodded at her, resigned to his vow of silence for the time being.

“G’night,” he said, letting his voice return to its more usual volume. For what felt like the hundredth time that day, Sol felt a pang of surprise at being treated like someone who was supposed to be there.

“Swift?” she asked, almost hesitantly.

“Yeah?”

“Do you know what a cin vhetin is?”

His brow puzzled for a moment. “A… clean slate?” That would be the simplest way to explain a very old Mandalorian idea, she thought. But it worked.

“More or less. Is this… that?” Her eyes, for the first time since she’d arrived on Kamino, were full of doubt and hope in equal measure. “For me?”

Swift’s expression was subtle. He knew that it was not quite fair that she required a ‘clean slate’ in the first place, and felt a little guilty for having to offer it now, about six months too late. But he looked at her with fresh awareness of her endurance, her skill, and— more than anything else— her loyalty. Taking a plasma shot for him had left a profound impression he was unable to take lightly.

“Yeah, I reckon it is.”

A whisper of a smile strayed across one corner of her mouth. She nodded at him.

“Goodnight.”

#sw tcw fanfic #star wars fanfic #fanfic #clone trooper ocs #swtcw #my ocs #my fic #cronos squad

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koganphrancis · 5 years

Photo

(gif credit: jackorowan)

Ian Dips His Toe Into A Redemption Arc

(Or: My thoughts on S10 Episode 3)

First thing first-I am guessing that the scene this gif is from was cut-Wells probably said it looked too much like men having sex with each other ;P I bet this fight led to the-by the time the episode starts-established divided cell that Ian has to be a little bitch to Mickey about not seeing the clock since he can’t go to “Mickey’s side” of the cell. WTF is this, The Brady Bunch? Pretty sure the boys pulled that about their bedroom in one of the episodes, but I digress. I would have liked to see Mickey jumping Ian, sigh.

On to what they did show-I have to say, I’m okay with it in the sense that I think almost everything they had Mickey and Ian say and do was very much in character. However, since the show has had these characters for 10 seasons, I would’ve really liked to see evidence of more growth and evolution for Ian. Mickey did two major acts of wonderful, selfless love for Ian, whereas Ian blurted out one thing towards the end when everything was pretty much set in stone anyway.

But it was very in character for Mickey to be the one to give, and Ian to receive, so let me go back to the beginning under the

The episode starts and obviously they’re still bickering/not getting along. (Noel’s reading of Mickey’s annoyed “What” packed more meaning and emotion into a single syllable-this show does not deserve him.) Ian gets the news that he’s got a parole hearing date, and Mickey immediately has a dark cloud of cold, cold rain descend over him-Ian’s pretty oblivious to that, and probably thinks Mickey’s just continuing their arguing since Mickey walks out of the cell as soon as the lock’s released. Gotta give Ian a little credit-he forgets they’re arguing and is asking Mickey questions about his thoughts about what the letter means and didn’t Mickey think, like Ian, he’d be in longer...but those questions were all about “me, me, me” not “us”. Which, in character, but, grow a little, Ian, damn it!

Ian goes and talks to two inmates that we’re not quite clear if both of them are gay or just “prison gay” (one has a boyfriend on the outside, but they have an arrangement to screw other people while they’re apart as long as there’s no mouth kissing). They tell Ian he and “his boy” need a clear understanding, or feelings will be hurt. Ian looks across the room to Mickey, and maybe for the first time is thinking about Mickey hurting because of him.

Or maybe he’s not-because the next scene is obviously taking place at 8:15, and Mickey is sitting on the toilet. This scene, again, was in character for Ian, but it pissed me off because he’s bringing up something major-something that could easily blow up into a fight-when Mickey is literally at his most open and vulnerable-pants down and his body in no position to choose either fight or flight. Plus, Ian doesn’t broach the subject with, “Even if I get out, I will wait for you, I’ll be faithful.” No, he’s still 17 year old Ian saying, “Will we bang other people?” Plus he throws in “kids? Retirement?” so Mickey truly doesn’t have the first clue what Ian’s asking. (And, btw, Shameless, they HAD a kid that you’ve oh so conveniently made disappear.)

Ian states it as clearly as he can (I guess, for him): “Do you or do you not want to be in a long distance relationship when I’m out?” This is so not fair to put on Mickey. Mickey plainly told Ian what he wanted way back when he was first put into prison and, yes, Ian was on his meds and so low and whatever, but Mickey knew the answer he gave then was a lie and probably would’ve been the same even if Ian was 100% adjusted to his meds. Also, Mickey knows for a fact: Ian cheats. He’s cheated on Mickey and he’s cheated with Mickey, and Ian’s certainly not saying here he’ll even try to be true. From Mickey’s point of view he could easily take it as Ian wanting him to give him the loophole to not be faithful.

Mickey, again, is the realist-”You’re out there you’re going to be fucking other people, so will I.” (Plus, just last week, Ian was requesting a “new roommate”-pretty sure Mickey feels like Ian would be fucking other people inside, given the chance.) Ian belatedly (far too late) says, “Can’t we just like, wait for each other?” Then Mickey says something very true indeed. “Look, it would be one thing if you felt differently about leaving, but you don’t.” Ian asks what that means and Mickey reluctantly tells him that maybe if there was a part of Ian that wanted to throw his parole hearing so he could stay in there with Mickey since Mickey threw his life away to be with Ian then at least they’d be having a different conversation. Ian immediately gets defensive with “I didn’t ask you to.” No, you didn’t Ian, but you’ve never seemed to appreciate that Mickey did it either-or any of the many other sacrifices and acts of love Mickey’s done for you over the years. Ian incredulously asks if Mickey’s asking him to tank his hearing to "be stuck” in prison with him. Again it seems like Ian is 100% missing the point that Mickey chose to be with him because he wanted to be, and Ian’s acting like being with Mickey is part of-maybe the worst part of-his prison sentence. Mickey says, “I ain’t asking you for shit, Gallagher.” Ian cranks up the defensiveness, “You want me to choose to do it without you asking.” YES, that’s exactly what he wants, Ian. For you to choose him, for once in your life! Mickey says his already famous, “I want you to want to do what you want.” Ian gets extremely whiny and says, “Buuuut, if I choose it, you would be happy.” Well, not anymore-you’ve ruined it. He keeps getting in Mickey’s face, “I just want to know, yes or no, would you be fucking happy!?!?” You honestly don’t know, Ian? You’re the one that’s been having all the problems being locked up-Mickey, in the little bit we saw last week, was resigned and ready to serve out his sentence till you kept after him, putting a lot of blame on him for prison not being “fun” anymore. Mickey finally says, “Yes” and Ian’s all, “Then I’ll fucking do it-I’ll fuck up my hearing so that I stay with you.” He’s totally yelling by this point. Mickey says, “If that’s what you want, fine.” But you can tell he doesn’t think it’s what Ian wants. Ian retreats back up to the top bunk after they exchange “fines” and “goods”. Neither one of them is happy.

And Ian’s not all that committed to his supposed decision-the next scene he’s in, he’s on the prison phone trying to get a hold of Lip-he needs some advice-which is a crock of shit to begin with-when has Lip ever told him that Mickey is the right choice? Ian already knows what Lip would tell him to do.

Mickey gets back to the cell after Ian learns from Debbie that Lip and Tami had the baby, and Mickey right away knows something’s bothering Ian. Hey, Ian, when would any member of your family notice something like that?

Next Mickey scene-he goes to visit one of Terry’s old buddies for gay life advice. Um, sure, Shameless. I’m sorry that they felt the need to shortcut Mickey finding out what he already knows in his heart by stretching suspension of disbelief far beyond its breaking point. (Not to mention it completely undercuts any danger we were supposed to believe in when Mickey came out-apparently Terry and his generation of incarcerated neo-nazis are completely tolerant of alternative lifestyles-who knew?) Anyway-one great Noel moment in this scene is the beat he takes to look momentarily surprised that he’s not going to be curb stomped for asking about his partner for pleasure.

Points lost to Shameless tho, for not making it very clear if, just like the Nazi buddy says to Mickey that Ian will come to resent him for wanting him to stay in prison for him, does Mickey resent Ian for going back in to be with him? Are we supposed to think there’s a difference just because Ian didn’t ask/encourage Mickey to do it? I also don’t like the implication that Mickey’s somehow in the wrong for wanting to be with Ian-it’s not like Ian has had a great life when Mickey’s not there for him.

Mickey, as always, is keeping a close eye on Ian, and thwarts his plan to shiv an inmate (and, hey, Shameless, way to work in another fat slur in that scene-you couldn’t have Ian just say, “The big guy?”), and in a scene that I hope was very gratifying to film, Noel, uh, Mickey covers Ian’s entire mouth with his hand and keeps telling him to STFU ;) Mickey has his cohorts drag Ian back to their cell, and here he makes his first huge sacrifice/love offering: he tells Ian he’s not throwing his fucking parole for him, they need to get him out of this shithole. So it’s only then, when it’s obvious Mickey’s not going to hold him to anything he’s said and not going to try to make him say, that Ian finally says what he should’ve been saying from the start: “I wanna be with you.” Mickey says, “You don’t get to be.” And Cameron finally gives us a good line reading and says with an actual hitch in his voice and some real emotion, “I wanna be where you are, Mickey.” And Mickey has to be all Rick Blane from Casablanca and say, “You don’t belong in here” and “go get a job and be an uncle to Lip’s kid” and “I shouldn’t have asked you to stay.” Yeah, you should’ve! You have the right to ask him to, Mickey-and especially to want him to want to! You shouldn’t force him to stay, but asking him is okay!

And then we finally get what we’ve been hoping for for years-the mutual ilys, but, still, it wasn’t quite right. Ian says it, then Mickey says, “I know.” (Does he though? All I could see was, “Not really though” right after he said I know. And maybe for once Shameless is laying out some foreshadowing and Mickey truly still DOESN’T know-there’s going to be a major bump in their future if that guy on the Vespa from the 2nd Chicago week is anything to go by-but even if we are supposed to have that tickle of doubt from that “I know”, that still fucks up them finally saying I love you to each other-why can’t we ever just have them say it?) Anyway, Mickey does his, “I love you too” and they kiss and it’s a lovely kiss-but that’s all we get. They finally say ILY to each other and it doesn’t lead to more? Even Noel live tweeting it indicated it DID lead to what it should have-an actual love scene (although we could do without the “mayonaise”). But this is Shameless and they’re just never gonna have sex, I guess.

Their final scene is Ian sleeping blissfully and Mickey in his own bunk, counting money (he also had money to give the guard to be let in to see Terry’s buddy-all that cash and he can’t buy some lube?) and a guard comes to the door and gives Mickey and envelope for the cash, and a now-awake Ian is half sitting up and Mickey gives him the envelope and tells him to “facetime your brother, see the baby” and gives Ian the sweetest look along with this second-of-the-episode love offering, like Mickey’s the one making up for something. What? The whole episode he’s been putting Ian’s needs and issues first. But it is very in character for Mickey to be doing whatever it takes to make Ian happy. I just want to see it starting to get reciprocated. I don’t think Ian did a hell of a lot in this episode to show much redemption. He really only did anything (truly mean it when he said he wanted to stay) once he was getting what he wanted at the start.

And they never did hammer it out that they’d wait for each other...But with the way they’re being under-utilized this season I’m not too worried about that. They don’t seem to be in the next episode at all, and it makes me so sad to think about how much better their story would be if the show would just let them have the number of scenes they deserve and the time to let things play out, instead of everything needing to be brought up, flailed over, and resolved all in the span of a few too short scenes.

#IanandMickey #Season 10 Episode 3 #Spoiler #(minor-and not a spoiler if you saw pictures on Twitter from Chicago week 2)#I do have to give this episode credit-the writer seemed to have actually watched previous Gallavich stuff #She did a way better job than Nancy who has been there from the start #Noel is beyond the MVP of this show #Everything he does rings true #The emotions he plays seem so real

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incorrigible-rapscallion · 5 years

Text

SERIAL KILLER’S GUIDE TO MEN AND MANSLAUGHTER -- Script (pgs. 14-23)

pgs. 1-2; 3-7; 7-14

INT. HARRIET'S ENTRYWAY/KITCHEN - EVENING

David clumsily enters, loaded down by the many groceries and items that he picked up while running errands. Achilles holds a bundle of flowers in his mouth.

Aunt Harriet is readying herself to leave in the entryway, but stops to coo over Achilles and the bouquet.

AUNT HARRIET Franny always knows just what I'll like. We'll have to thank her at the town hall tonight.

David moves stiffly into the kitchen, setting down a bag of produce that tumbles out onto the counter and floor.

David shuts his eyes then grips his hair with one hand and makes a fist with the other. The sound of the produce hitting the floor echoes and the ambient noises of the house amplify.

Achilles licks David's clenched hand, allowing it to open up and intentionally stop the reverberating sounds.

Harriet presses her hand between David's shoulder blades. David jumps and flinches away in response.

David makes a repetitive movement with his now-free hands, takes a measured breath, then scruffs Achilles' head. He nods towards Harriet, but avoids eye contact.

AUNT HARRIET Perhaps it's best if we stay in tonight. There isn't anything that I don't already know about on the agenda.

DAVID Don't worry about me. I just got overloaded. There was more social interaction today than I had expected. I should've known better.

AUNT HARRIET No, I should've known better. That was too much to ask of you so soon. I just didn't want to get in the way of you reacquainting yourself with everyone.

David meets Harriet's eyes and responds to her genuine tone with a chagrined expression.

David picks up the fallen produce and begins putting the groceries away.

Harriet exits back into the entryway.

DAVID Now that you mention it, I met a Sheriff Hannah Livingston at the park. She says that she is a friend of yours, but you've never mentioned her before.

AUNT HARRIET (O.S.) Am I suddenly required to report on every happening in Pleasant Grove when I write each month? I only have so much parchment to dedicate to the daily scandals of our beloved hamlet. (poking her head in) Tell me, how are your friends doing?

DAVID Achilles is fine, as you can see.

AUNT HARRIET (O.S.) A man shouldn't have a dog as the sole source of his social life.

DAVID I've been doing just fine so far. I don't plan on changing any time soon.

AUNT HARRIET (O.S.) Then why did you come here, if not to find change?

DAVID I'm not having this discussion with you right now, not if you want me to go to the town hall tonight.

Harriet enters the kitchen with an opera coat and purse.

AUNT HARRIET If that's the case, we should get going if we want the best seats.

David gapes at her then sighs in acceptance.

INT. TOWN HALL - NIGHT

David, Achilles, and Harriet enter a quaint auditorium.

It is styled like a WPA-built theater from the 1930s but shows signs of modern refurbishment.

TOWNSPEOPLE mill about, chatting and grabbing snacks at a RHS-manned table near the auditorium's entrance.

Harriet goes straight to front row and makes a scene out of draping her coat and purse to "claim" a set of seats.

David follows at a slower pace, wide-eyed and stoic.

BEATRICE LANCASTER, late 60s with retired Prom Queen-looks, stops mid-lecture with The RHS ladies on the stage to watch Harriet's display.

BEATRICE Harriet, dear, I'm surprised you were able to make it. Last I heard, you were organizing a protest against the city council elections.

AUNT HARRIET The protest was ages ago, keep up. Whatever little birdie you have whispering in your ear obviously hasn't been honest with you.

BEATRICE I make a point to only concern myself with truly pressing matters.

AUNT HARRIET Like what color the streamers will be for this year's Lollapalooza?

BEATRICE At least I know that we'll have streamers this year.

SHERIFF LIVINGSTON (O.S.) (through PA system) If everyone will take their seats, I'd like to get started.

Livingston stands at a podium and patiently waits for the Townspeople's collective attention.

Harriet and Beatrice glare at each other as they sink into their respective chairs simultaneously. David passes in front of Harriet to take his seat, which breaks their showdown.

SHERIFF LIVINGSTON (CONT’D) (through PA system) Thank you all for joining us tonight. We have some exciting things on the agenda, like the Christmas in July and Lollapalooza celebrations hosted by our own Red Hat Society chapter. Let's give a round of applause for these hard-working ladies up here with me.

Townspeople applaud. Harriet gives a cursory clap.

David doesn't clap, but takes out his notebook instead. He begins jotting down observations about The RHS and the city council on stage.

SHERIFF LIVINGSTON (CONT’D) (through PA system) Before we get to that, let me just go over our "house rules." Please save your personal questions and feedback for when we open the floor to public comments. We also ask that you keep any side conversations to a minimum--as we want every one to be able to hear what the city council has to say about upcoming projects.

Townspeople murmur while Livingston speaks, but settle into silence at the end of her address.

SHERIFF LIVINGSTON (CONT’D) (through PA system) Without further ado, let's welcome Beatrice Lancaster from The Red Hat Society to the podium.

Beatrice steps up to Livingston and "air kisses" each of her cheeks as a greeting. Harriet scoffs and speaks to David in an exaggerated whisper:

AUNT HARRIET I once organized a charity event with Streisand, so I know all too well how backstabbers operate. And Beatrice "Queen Mother" Lancaster puts even the slimiest ones to shame.

David jerks away from his note-taking when Harriet invokes Beatrice's name. He peruses the Townspeople behind them absentmindedly. David speaks in a normal tone, which earns nasty glances from Beatrice during her own speech:

DAVID I believe I ran into her husband today. When I was picking up your hamburger at The Wright Place....

David locks eyes with none other than Thomas, who is seated in a chair adjacent to their spot.

The Townspeople and ambient noises of the room fall away, leaving only the sound of David's escalating breath and knuckles popping as he clenches his hand on his knee.

Thomas gives David a grin and a wink. David stops breathing.

Achilles licks at David's clenched hand. The sudden sound and motion of the action brings the room back into focus.

David unclenches, makes a repetitive hand movement, then scruffs Achilles' head.

AUNT HARRIET Gah! That's why you were having a fit earlier. The Lancasters are both arrogant in their ignorance. Most upsetting. Any time spent in the near proximity of either of them would be enough to send a homicidal maniac running to the hills.

David stiffens and flips back to his notebook entry reading: "Mr. Wright--Serial Killer." He firmly shuts the book then stuffs it between his upper leg and the chair.

DAVID There was actually something I wanted to talk to you about earlier, before my episode. You know how I am with my "intuition."

AUNT HARRIET Yes, of course. That's what makes your writing so engaging and original. You are able to "concisely connect readers to the nuanced behavior and idiosyncrasies of your characters"... at least, that's what the New York Times had to say about The Turn of the Shrew.... DAVID No, I mean my every day "intuition." The thing that makes me read other people like characters in my books.

AUNT HARRIET Stop being cryptic; it's unbecoming and the suspense is killing me.

DAVID Let's say, hypothetically speaking, that I was able to intuit someone I met today was a criminal. Or, at least, someone capable of committing a crime.

AUNT HARRIET We are all capable of committing crimes, mon cher. What makes this hypothetical person any different? DAVID I think that they have already committed the crime before. Many times.

AUNT HARRIET It sounds as though there is a reason that they haven't been caught yet then, since you were able to hypothetically intuit them out and about in our hallowed town.

DAVID That's the thing. Is there a moral obligation for me to turn in someone who is a potential criminal based only on my instincts and intuition?

AUNT HARRIET Has your intuition ever been wrong before?...

AUNT HARRIET & DAVID No.

AUNT HARRIET Then the moral obligation rests exclusively on your shoulders. You and I are the only ones who know of this hypothetical situation, thus, we are the only ones who know of any potential criminality from this equally hypothetical person.

DAVID That did nothing to answer my question.

AUNT HARRIET If you want to talk to someone about the everyday practice of moral philosophy, then you should find a friend. Preferably, one that speaks.

Beatrice finishes her speech at the podium and glares again at Harriet as she takes her seat. Harriet smiles cheekily.

AUNT HARRIET (CONT’D) While we are on this topic of personal growth and change, I have arranged a little soiree for you tomorrow night.

DAVID Soiree?

AUNT HARRIET Blind date. Think of it as an opportunity to make a friend that will discuss morality with you.

IRATE MAN (O.S.) Excuse me, what is being done by the Pleasant Grove police department to investigate the missing persons cases all over the county?

Livingston is back at the podium. The IRATE MAN, mid-50s and fox-like, stands at the rear of the auditorium.

SHERIFF LIVINGSTON (through PA system) Sir, at this time, I ask that you save your questions for when we open the floor to public comments.

IRATE MAN I asked a simple question. What is being done by your police department to investigate the slew of missing persons in this area?

As the Irate Man speaks, David opens up his notebook again and records the man's interaction with keen interest.

SHERIFF LIVINGSTON (through PA system) Once again, I will be happy to answer your question, sir, when we open the floor to public comments.

IRATE MAN So you are declining to comment at this time.

SHERIFF LIVINGSTON (through PA system) Not at all. Please respect our house rules by reserving your question for public comments. We have just a few more things to discuss before we can turn the microphone over to you.

IRATE MAN As you can tell, Ms. Livingston, I do not need the aid of a microphone.

Livingston steps away from the podium and PA system.

SHERIFF LIVINGSTON Neither do I, sir. At this time, my department is doing everything we can to investigate the missing persons cases not just here in Pleasant Grove, but around the entire county. When we have more information we can disclose to the public, we will be sure to let all the proper news outlets know.

IRATE MAN There. Was that so hard?

The Irate Man sits down, amid alarmed murmurs from the Townspeople. Livingston straightens her belt and stands back at the podium.

SHERIFF LIVINGSTON (through PA system) Now, I'd like to welcome our fire chief, Brian O'Henry, to give us all some safety tips for wilderness survival and wildfire prevention this summer.

BRIAN O'HENRY takes the podium. He is rugged in both his appearance and attitude.

BRIAN O'HENRY Hello, Pleasant Grove. The biggest take away I want you to have tonight is to keep a clear head when you are faced with a situation that you are not sure about what to do--

David closes his notebook again and turns to Harriet.

INTER-CUT BETWEEN O'HENRY SPEECH AND CONVERSATION:

DAVID This blind date, I take it that skiving out would be a great disservice to your esteemed reputation here in the community?

AUNT HARRIET My reputation is ironclad, so nothing you could do would upset my public goodwill. "Skiving out," as you indelicately put it, would only look poorly on you and your conscience.

BRIAN O'HENRY Our air quality right now is at a low risk for wildfires, but we do have an electrical storm heading our way in the next couple of days, so practice good judgment when--

DAVID More so than my struggling moral compass about turning in a hypothetical criminal to the proper authorities?

AUNT HARRIET Morality is dull when compared to the prospect of meeting a potential life-long partner.

DAVID I do believe that your romantic inclinations are beginning to show.

AUNT HARRIET Perish the thought!

BRIAN O'HENRY --Above all, stay safe out there.

INT. TOWN HALL - END OF MEETING - NIGHT

David and Achilles stand at the auditorium entrance.

Harriet "holds court" with a group of Townspeople. The Townspeople laugh with her in earnest. A WOMAN IN YELLOW passes the group and inserts herself into the conversation.

AUNT HARRIET Franny, darling, you are looking radiant as ever. I must thank you for the elegant bouquet my dear nephew, David-the-author, picked up today.

David checks his watch and locks eyes with Achilles.

DAVID (to Achilles) Alright, she thanked Franny. Surely that means we can go now.

Thomas passes in front of David and Achilles.

Thomas raises an eyebrow and winks. David's breath hitches.

Thomas leaves through the entrance and David stares after.

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