#heartbeat 1x06 | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

gra-sonas · 3 years

Note

"We're all tired of waiting, and just throwing us a bone with two consecutive episodes of them interacting won't quite cut it."

You said it! If this is supposed to be a love story over a decade in the making, they shouldn't have to be "throwing fans a bone" by allowing the two of them to even interact. This is THE love story for a main character and it's disappointing that fans are having to beg for scraps, and even that is only the fans that follow the actors that are keeping the hope alive. I doubt anyone who hasn't seen Valmis in head-to-toe Malex gear talking about how in love they are even has a clue the two of them might still be a thing.

I doubt anyone who hasn't seen Valmis in head-to-toe Malex gear talking about how in love they are even has a clue the two of them might still be a thing.

Yeah, and even fans who have seen him in head-to-toe Malex gear for an entire hiatus are struggling to stay positive.

I think it's a real problem, that TPTB don't understand how damn insecure we are about the whole thing, how little faith in showrunners, in general, we actually have, and that trust in them doing right by us doesn't come naturally after watching a million other shows handling queer ships rather badly. We don't come from a place of confidence and certainty. We're always in free fall, not knowing whether we'll ever get what we want.

All the vague teasing and maybes they think are cool and a way to advertise the show - that's NOT exciting to us, it's a terrifying reminder of how wrong it can all go in a heartbeat, bc it happened so many times before. Queer ships and fans of queer ships are rarely treated well, a "maybe" way too often turned into "LOL, you wish".

I keep repeating myself, but Wynonna Earp and Schitt's Creek are the only shows I can think of, where WE showrunner Emily Andras and SC showrunner Dan Levy kept reassuring fans in pretty much every interview, that fans didn't need to be afraid, and that the queer ships would definitely get their HEA.

That knowledge and the constant reassurance made all the ups and downs those ships went through so much more enjoyable to watch bc it was always clear, that they would end up together, and be happy.

As a shipper of several queer ships over the years, I've never had the luxury of that kind of assurance before. All I've known is either

no canon queer ships in most shows

tons of queerbaiting without actually making fan-favorite queer ships happen

when there were canon queer ships, they were often treated badly, didn't get a HEA, characters were killed off, and so on

So, most of us really don't come from a place of trust. We're used to only ever getting crumbs, being treated like we're weird [for shipping characters that are not together in canon, especially when the characters are supposedly straight], and not getting what we so desperately want (and yet keep begging for).

With RNM, we were rather well-fed from the pilot up to ep 1x06 - we got so much amazing Malex content, an abundance of beautiful scenes and backstory, and even after M/M got set up in 1x09, most of S1 still delivered mostly beautiful Malex content.

S2 still had some good Malex scenes, overall, the season didn't exactly bolster our confidence tho. On the contrary, several times we got the reminder (in canon), that our ship was just too painful, too difficult to handle, that there were too many bad memories associated with it, and so on. The m/f relationship on the other hand was hailed as "easy" and exactly what Michael needed. And the season ended with Alex singing a love song about (and for) Michael, Michael walking out on him, and Alex kissing someone else.

The change of showrunners after S2 gave us a little boost in being hopeful, after all, Chris is the romantic one, the writer who'd provided us with some of our favorite Malex scenes, right?

So, when he asked us to trust him, many of us did. Some more willingly than others, but ultimately, I think many of us did trust him. Most of us probably still do, but man, we're now 7 episodes (that's more than half of the season) into S3, and all we got is 2 Malex scenes, cumulating to roughly 5 minutes of shared screentime.

Excuse us if that doesn't scream "trust us to do right by them" to us...

What we got in 3x07, was yet another reminder, that yes, the entire town of Roswell knows about Alex and Michael. Har, har, so funny...

I hope this is the last time this "joke" is used, the teasing isn't really fun anymore. There's only so much "so, you're in love with Michael" and "I've always known about you and Alex" we can take without them being in scenes together. All this "foreshadowing" and teasing has to lead to something solid going forward.

I believe the show will do that, but man, part of me desperately hopes I'm not wrong, and that all the trust I've put into Chris and the show for over a year, will pay off, starting next week.

Anyway, that's one more Malex-less episode out of the way, next episode's going to be a good one!

It's (finally) time for Malex, baby!

#rnm salt #rnm speculation #rnm spoilers #rnm 3x07 #nonnie asks

29 notes · View notes

winterlovesong1 · 3 years

Text

panic button

Summary: A Loki drabble based on the ending scene in 1x06.

Author Notes: This is really abstract and I just felt like I needed to write something after that finale. So this is what came out. Loki/Sylvie relationship implied. But also Loki/Mobius friendship.

-/-

His words are rushed, overlapping over their own syllabus, stumbling into the next sound as they fly into the air. He’s not explaining it correctly. He knows this. He’s missing something, some detail, some feature, but explicit descriptions are hard to remember right now.

breathe

Read the rest under the cut or at A03.

But then there’s a blankness staring back at him and he knew he wasn’t explaining it exactly as it had happened, but surely he could comprehend some of what he’s saying. It’s not total gibberish he assures himself.

Then why won’t he understand, he always understood before, hell he understood more than…

He asks him something, finally responding to his flurry of phrasing. But his question isn’t registering because he’s too focused on trying to make him understand and why won’t…

No.

The thought dons on him as nothing is reflected back at him in his eyes and…

No…

All the panic inside him rises still, bubbling over until he abruptly stops speaking, his words coming to a screeching halt. And now there’s silence. At least he is silent. The man in front of him keeps speaking, probably continuing his inquiries. He’s not entirely sure because whatever he is saying is drowned out by the dull ache in his ears from the reverberation of the sound of his rapid heartbeat beneath his chest and the echo of one thought in his mind.

No…

He looks out into the vastness beyond the archive hallways and his disbelief continues.

No…

The dull ache in his ears only allows him to hear every other word while his own inner thoughts fight for his attention. The conflict is a bit maddening, and he just needs it all to…

“Stop!”

His brief, but sharp exclamation, seemed to have cured the cloudiness of the sounds around him as a clear distinct quiet finally sets in for all parties.

But there’s still blankness and emptiness staring back at him.

He brushes past the scene though, for there has to be a way to get it back, to get it all back.

“I need your help,” his plea shining with glaring transparency and urgency.

“Well that’s obvious,” the man replies rather dismissively.

“I have to fix…we have to fix…” he isn’t stumbling around his words this time around, saying each partial phrase with a clarity he unknowingly picked up in the past few seconds, but was grateful to have earned.

“We have to fix this.” It’s pointed, it’s the truth, it’s all he knows to say.

“Ok…” His agreement trails as skepticism spreads across his face.

Ok, a different tactic he quickly thinks, swerving direction.

“We have to fix this because there are people’s lives at stake. There’s people I…” and he doesn’t use the next word lightly, it almost feels odd to even form in his mind, but then this isn’t time for reflection.

“…need,” he slowly finishes his sentence.

“You need someone?” and he says it in a way like maybe he lost a piece a paper or misplaced an article of clothing or can’t think of the right word, not in the desperate way he meant it, not in the way he feels this burning in his chest and the slight tremble coursing through his limbs.

He thinks of his old friend, the one that is merely a memory of the person before him.

He had never met anyone so kind, not kind in the sense that everything he did was excusable and so he was just generally nice to him, no, most of his actions were indeed horrendous, but he was kind in the sense that he just wanted to know why. No one had ever asked really. So somewhere in the days or weeks or however time was constructed in this space, he started to perhaps like him being around, enjoyed his presence even.

(he needed his friend)

“yes I need him and…”

There was someone else his mind advises.

(there is someone else his heart corrects)

He can hear the echo in the chamber, the soft patter of their footsteps before the clinking and striking of blades. He can hear her barbs and accusations and her disgust over all the noise. He can feel the sharpened edge tremble against his skin as he shares his pleas with her, the sword between them eventually falling to the ground.

He can feel how the air shifted, stood stagnant, then whirled around again as…

“I need her.”

And after a brief pause, he asks again, “will you help me fix this?”

This mirror of the man he once knew looks at him, confusion ever present on his face, but there is something else behind his eyes, something that perhaps resembles…

He takes in a deep breathe, sighing heavily, his shoulders relieving some sort of tension, before relenting, “yeah, but we need to know what this is, so maybe have a seat, take a breather, and then, yeah, let’s see what we can do.”

#writing: winter's #loki x sylvie #spoilers for 1x06 so don't read if you haven't watched...#sylki fanfic #sylki fanfiction #sylkie #sylki

15 notes · View notes

propp · 2 years

Note

top 5 tomgreg moments :o)

SCREAM this is so hard i have like not yet internalized their s3 moments amongst my mental Tomgreg Canon

1. i just don't think anything will top their 1x06 girls night out...the whole "shiv is out of town lets go on a date," "are you trying to seduce me tom," masking the shame versus heightening the pleasure....amazing.

2. 3x07's "prove it" is up there for me already. like jesus *christ* gregory

3. 3x04 "i'd castrate you and marry you in a heartbeat"!!! classical allusion! weird sex stuff! tom being so desperate! i'm obsessed

4. 2x04 water bottle scene. a classic. plus tom being genuinely so happy that greg is trying to blackmail him in his awkward greg way. greg calling tom his best friend

5. this final slot was a hard one because there's just so many insanely unhinged fun interactions between the two of them, but it's going to have to go to their morning jog altercation in 1x09. not necessarily for the character development but mostly because it's just such a pretty scene. the wide shot in this like expansive landscape makes it feel almost breaking bad adjacent. also the implication that greg has just had a car-ride-of-shame post-hookup and now is getting into fisticuffs with this impossibly repressed boss is the funniest ever. like that waiter dude is 100% watching this in his rearview mirror as he drives away like "what the FUCK situation have i just become embroiled in"

#using canon here in the sense of a literary canon because thats so much funnier #thank you for the askkkkkk you indulge me too much

5 notes · View notes

whogirl42 · 4 years

Text

Episode 8. Oh wowee, episode 8.

Warning: I have a lot of thoughts and feelings because Marisa and Asriel finally interacted onscreen and it was glorious.

Let’s begin.

We all know Marisa has a... let's say, complicated relationship with her daemon. At his point, it’s no surprise to see Marisa abusing him in one form or the other. But we’ve never seen it like this before. Earlier times it was as a warning to behave or a slap as a form of punishment. This? This is something new. Marisa is gripping her daemon’s skin to the point of pain, a point so painful that she is closing her eyes and wincing. There’s no pretending it doesn’t hurt her too. This is self ham at its most explicit.

What has he done to deserve such treatment? What could have driven her to this? What did we see Marisa doing in the scene we saw her last?

Marisa is bracing herself for having to kill Asriel, one of the only two people in the world she cares about. Her entire self is rebelling at the very thought.

"What did he do to you?" Macphail asks, and it might have been her asking herself that question. "What power he still exerts. I knew you. An ambitious young woman with a good marriage well on her way to quite some position, and then that man came along and you melted."

That won’t happen again. Marisa is far from that stupid girl who made the worst mistake of her life over a crush. She steels herself for what she needs to do. She is sure in her convictions and no one, least not that man, will stop her.

Below, armoured bears are readying for an attack.

Lyra is probably still with the Gyptions. There's no reason to think Lyra would be down there below. Maybe the possibility of Lyra being there doesn't even cross her mind. Except Iofer is dead. After an armoured bear helped Lyra escape Bolvanger. And now there are armoured bears readying for an attack against the Magisterium. Lyra could be down there.

"Open fire," Marisa says. It's chaos down there, it's hard to see anything. But maybe she spots one bear running away. Maybe she spots a familiar red hat on its rider and sighs in relief. Maybe she berates herself for almost hurting her daughter again.

Or maybe Lyra isn't even on her radar, too consumed with thoughts of Asriel.

Marisa knew Asriel was doing something was Dust. She understands from his work that it has something to do with an energy discharge. The penny drops, and fear takes hold of Marisa.

He wouldn't. Would he? But the numbers all add up. Marisa isn't beyond hurting children and they're the same, Asriel and her, they always have been. He'd enjoy besting Marisa at something, succeeding where she couldn't. He couldn't. But who was to say how far his convictions went? Lyra shouldn't be anywhere near there. There's no reason for her to be there.

Still, Marisa is on edge. She demands Thorold tell her what Asriel is planning, even as she seems to have grasped the basics. She tries frightening him, appealing to the faith I'm surprised he'd even have after years of working for Asriel. Thorold lowers the gun but still doesn't say anything. Marisa tries a different tactic.

"Thorold, I should throw you to the wolves. But I won't. I’ll tell them that Father Macphail is staying here to analyse what we’ve found, and then I’ll take the troops to pursue Asriel and you will leave. He’s always been so reckless. He’s never treated any of us well, you included."

Did Thorold tell her anything off-screen? We don't know. There's nothing to suggest that they talk any more after this scene. Which means that Marisa - always in control - Coulter let her guard down, let herself seem vulnerable about Asriel, without any clear gain. This isn't a ploy to get something. This isn't her being emotional because Lyra's there. This is just her being emotional. For the first time in god knows how long, she's going to see Asriel again. And Thorold has been working with Asriel for years. He probably knew about the affair as it happened, one of the only people in the know. Both Thorold and Marisa know Asriel intimately, and there's a camaraderie to that.

I can't not mention Marisa's remarks about Asriel throughout the season.

"He's a failure of a man and a failure of a father." (1x02)

"He thought he could protect you. Another one of his ridiculous ideas. Couldn't protect a painting if it was drawn on the wall." (1x02)

"[About giving up Lyra] And Asriel had ideas on what was best." (1x06)

“And if there's one thing that man doesn't need, it's more toys to do damage with.” (1x06)

“He’s always been so reckless. He’s never treated any of us well.” (1x08)

And that’s probably barely scracthig the surface. We have no way of knowing how long it’s been since they last saw each other? Marisa told Lyra that she sometimes bumps into Asriel in the Arctic Institute, but there’s nothing to suggest that actually happened. For all we know, this could be the first time they speak since Asriel’s trial 12 years ago.

Marisa approaches him. He's sprouting out heresy like he always did, but she can't ignore it or roll her eyes or find better uses for his mouth. He's shattering her world, promising the end of everything she's worked for, everything she believes in.

Damn him, he has the audacity to smile.

This is the end of the Magisterium, that's what he said. The sun of another world. "Come,” he says.

She doesn't want to, but she can't help it. Whether it’s a miracle, an abomination; she is first and foremost a scholar, and this is extraordinary.

Something like peace settles between them, but Asriel is still saying things she does not want to hear. "Marisa, come with me," he says, like it's that easy.

Marisa's religious beliefs haven't been given much attention until now. She's played with the Magisterium, manipulating them to get what she wants and not giving a damn to what they say if when doesn't suit her. In the previous episode, she told Father Macphail the Magisterium has her devotion, but that didn't ring true. She cares about her experiments. That's her priority. Everything else is background noise.

Marisa fully believes that Dust in sin. She said it herself to Lyra in the Daemon Cages.

“Dust is not a good thing. Grown-ups are infected so deeply that it's too late for them. Condemned to a life of sin, guilt and regret. This is for a better future, a better life. [...] At the age that we call puberty, an age you'll come into very soon, darling, daemons bring all sorts of troublesome thoughts and feelings.”

She's trying to create a better world, one where humans aren't plagued with temptation and guilt. It's easy to blame this on the consequences of her affair with Asriel, and I do believe that fuels some of it. But to solely credit him for her motivations does her character a disservice. It took three-quarters of the season to touch on what drives her to these extremes, and I very much hope that they continue to delve into it in season 2.

Okay. This moment. This moment this moment this moment. This moment. Sorry, my brain loops and glitches whenever I see or think of this moment, because this moment.

This moment.

It's best with audio because then you can hear the way Ruth Wilson says Marisa’s faint protests. She's breathless, confused, torn, unsure. Everything she hasn't been up till now. Ruth Wilson is out queen our lord and saviour.

And Asriel, our favourite slut, is so thirsty for her, leaning in as she pulls away. It's been years and finally, he can kiss her again and he doesn't want to ever stop. His experiment just changed things forever, could change them forever. He and Marisa are the same, and he loved her years ago and he still loves her now, and if everything is changing then maybe finally they can get their happy ending.

Marisa was able to convince Macphail to let her come along because she knows Asriel better than anyone else. The same is true vice versa.

“Lie about whatever you want. Lie about the Oblation Board. The Magisterium. Lie about the girl. But do not lie about your ambition your work or who you truly are. You used to want to change the world. Then leave the Magisterium. Come with me, and we will change them all.”

He talks between small kisses, tempting her, teasing her, seducing her. Despite her snapping remark at Macphail, Marisa does in fact melt. This will work, they can be together again.

But there's the one thing Asriel didn't expect. The one thing that Marisa herself hadn't expected.

But I love Lyra. Where did this love come from? I don't know; it came to me like a thief in the night, and now I love her so much my heart is bursting with it.

Rewatching the scene, you can see the moment she makes her decision. She leans her head back just enough so she can look at Asriel.

Then leans back in and closes her eyes. Lets herself bask in the moment, lets herself feel the love and safety and rightness of being with him envelop her. When she opens her eyes, when she pulls away and speaks the words that will put them on separate paths, her resolution is clear. She's resigned to her decision and its consequences.

And Asriel could have debated theology and politics until the end of time, if that's what it took to have her again. He can't argue this.

And so she leaves. And he lets her. And the two of them are just so unexpectedly soft with each other my heart can't take it.

Where's the furious fight? The cutting remarks? The bitter resentment pushed down all these years finally showing its ugly face? Where's the dysfunctional madness?

"Ah, those two. In a fight they're lethal. Around each other, they melt." - Richelle Mead, The Golden Lily.

Part of me is disappointed we missed out on that beautiful angst, the kind we'd probably see if they spent longer together, but another part of me loves it. Because they cut through the bullshit. With others maybe they'd put on an act, but it's just them. And they know each other. They'd see through the other's presences in a heartbeat. The whole scene is so intimate, so honest, they almost convince me they could be healthy. And that's the tragedy of them, I think. They're so alike, two sides of the same coin. They understand each other on such a deep level no amount of time apart makes a difference. In another life, they would work. They should work. But this is the reality they live in.

Confession time.

I have not read the books. I have no intention of reading the books, at least not the parts I haven't seen onscreen yet. The reason is that after episode 3, I picked up the first book, caught up to where I was on the show, and realised I enjoyed the show better. I'd rather experience the twists and turns first on the platform that I prefer, without having them spoiled first on a platform that just doesn't evoke the same emotional response. Please don't pelt tomatoes at me!

I vaguely knew the plot of the Golden Compass from the movie I half saw years ago, and from general knowledge. Going forth, I'm mostly blind. I know bits and pieces from Tumblr that I can't quite escape, (I.e: the quote from the books I used above that I've seen in multiple gifsets), and unfortunately, I already know Masriel's fate. The journey getting there? No clue.

Which is exciting.

I've understood that the show is delving much more into Maria's psyche than the books, and that her revelation that she loves Lyra has come earlier. I don't know what it means going forth, if there will be changes from the books or if it will stay the same for the most part. What I do know, is that I can't wait to see what happens next.

Marisa refused Asriel because of Lyra, but Lyra left their world. Next season, I'm sure Marisa will be just as ruthless and determined to get her back, that will probably result with her aligning with the Magisterium once more.

I'd love to see her find a way to once again place the blame on Asriel, but as we've seen, her bitterness and resentment tend to fade away when faced with the man himself. Maybe it'll be easier to cling onto now the novelty of seeing him again after so long has worn off. But I honestly don't know how it will go when they next see each other. The softness of this scene took me by surprise, just as each of them always does individually. One thing's for sure, their connection isn't going anywhere.

But neither is the reality they live in. The Magisterium. It'll be interesting to see just how deep her loyalties go because the show did a great job in showing me that she'll choose Lyra over practically anything, but like I said, it hasn't talked much about her religious convictions.

See, that isn't what I'd expect to hear from the truly devout. It's part of her power-play with Macphail, yes, but it doesn't scream religious fanatic.

I want next season to explore that side of her. Ruth is a fantastic actress and would portray the inner turmoil perfectly. But I need to believe there's a chance she won't choose Lyra. I need to be convinced in her conviction, to honesty fear that she's gone off the ledge. I love that Lyra is her weak spot, I love that in her own twisted way she believes she's putting Lyra first. But she's not just a mother. She's not just a scorned lover. She is Marisa fucking Coulter, cesspit of moral filth, mother of all evil, and I need to see her go dark.

Yes, darker than smiling as she attacks the daughter she loves, darker than killing a boy with her bare hands, darker than kidnapping and experimenting on children even as they continue to die. I want her to repulse me with her actions. I want her to cross every line imaginable. I want her completely unredeemable. And then have her love for her child override all those convictions.

I have high demands. I have high expectations. I have full confidence Ruth Wilson can deliver. I'm really hoping the writers and producers do too.

66 notes · View notes

petesmediadiary · 4 years

Text

September 28th 2020

Podcasts: Comedy Bang Bang -- 675 Clothing Sausages How Did This Get Played? -- 67 Ring Fit Adventure LA Podcast -- 141 Sans Sherrif My Brother, My Brother, and Me -- 501 Face 2 Face: Jeans-Washed Acid TV: The Legend of Korra -- 1x01, 1x02 Last Week Tonight -- 7x24 The Vow -- 1x06 Schitt’s Creek -- 2x05, 2x06 Music: Pure Bathing Culture -- With Every Heartbeat (Robyn cover) Car Seat Headrest -- Scatterbrain (Radiohead cover) Gordi -- Hide and Seek (Imogen Heap cover) Wye Oak -- Goodbye Girls (Broadcast cover)

#comedy bang bang #how did this get played #hdtgp #la podcast #mbmbam #the legend of korra #Last Week Tonight #the vow #schitt's creek #pure bathing culture #car seat headrest #gordi #wye oak

1 note · View note

152glasslippers · 5 years

Text

not to disappear

Summary: The lock on the door clacked into place, and her breath caught in her throat mid-sob. There was a soft rustling, and she strained her ears to hear only that, not the labored, panting screeching of that thing.

Real, soft footsteps padded lightly across the bathroom tile and then—

The metallic slide of rings on the shower rod behind her. She turned away from the water as the curtain pulled back a few inches and Jonathan stepped in, sliding the curtain back into place.

Happy Stranger Things Day! In honor of Stranger Things 3, I dusted off an old Jancy fic that I wrote three years ago but never published for some reason.

Episode remix for 1x06: Jonathan joins Nancy in the shower the night he pulls her out of the upside down. Inspired entirely by this iconic post. Rated G for no smut; rated P for PLENTY OF FEELS.

Read on AO3, or right here:

She stared into the mirror, her eyes wide. Watched her expressionless face as she removed each piece of clothing, tugged the tie out of her hair. Matted strands fell on her bare shoulders. Images from earlier that night pressed at the backs of her eyes, pulsing in time with her heartbeat, urging her to blink.

She tore her gaze from the mirror, ripped the shower curtain open. The faucet squeaked as she turned it.

Branches snapped, bones cracked in the back of her mind.

She turned the faucet harder, pulled the shower tap. The pipes groaned throughout the house, from the basement below her to the wall next to her. The sound gave way to the hiss of the water spray, and she stepped in quickly, barely registering the temperature against her skin, staring now at the tile in front of her.

She blinked.

The monster turned toward her, its mouth flying open.

Nancy opened her eyes again. Water trickled from her scalp to the ends of her hair, dripping down her back, and she felt the tree behind her again, rotted, sodden, leaching decay. She wrapped her arms around herself, tried closing her eyes again. Specks of dust or ash or dirt or flesh floated around her, the maze of trees swirled around her, the—

—the doorknob clicked over the sound of the water. She held her breath.

Silence. A soft thump as the door reconnected with the frame. Another click as the doorknob twisted back into place.

“Nancy?” Jonathan’s voice, careful but urgent. “You okay?”

“Yeah, fine, just…” She swallowed. She didn’t know what to say, beyond the obvious lie. “Just, umm…” She gave up trying to find the words. “Are you okay? I thought you were going to wait in my room.”

“Yeah, I just came to check on you. I was worried…” He trailed off, hesitated. “You came in here an hour ago.”

What?

Nancy looked down at her arms, covered in goosebumps, the pads of her fingers wrinkled. She’d lost track of time, in front of the mirror or in the shower, she didn’t know.

She started to breathe harder.

What if she eventually lost all concept of time? Until her life existed only as flashes between dark memories, trapping her on the other side of that tree, cold and echoing, forever?

She choked on a gasp, and then she was crying, pursing her lips together, trying to keep it quiet from the whole house, from Jonathan. Her face crumpled, and she struggled to keep her eyes open, desperate not to close them and find herself screaming in that place.

She could sense Jonathan on the other side of the curtain, hands in his pockets probably, silent, unsure. She thought of his hand gripping her, his body bearing the weight of hers. Thought of his arms, tight around her. His hands again, pressing into her back, pressing her to him. She could still feel it. Wanted to feel it again. Didn’t know how to ask.

The lock on the door clacked into place, and her breath caught in her throat mid-sob. There was a soft rustling, and she strained her ears to hear only that, not the labored, panting screeching of that thing.

Real, soft footsteps padded lightly across the bathroom tile and then—

The metallic slide of rings on the shower rod behind her. She turned away from the water as the curtain pulled back a few inches and Jonathan stepped in, sliding the curtain back into place.

He was resolutely looking her in the eye, his gaze focused, intense, gentle. She stared back at him, surprise drying up her tears. He waited before taking a step closer, gasped as the water hit his body. He jerked himself backward out of the spray then threw himself forward again.

“Nancy, it’s cold!” She couldn’t tell if he was telling her or asking her, shock distorting his voice away from statement or question.

Nancy brought her arms up to her chest, loose fists resting inches below her chin, and moved to the side to make room for him as he reached to adjust the temperature. She found herself looking at his shoulders, the top of his chest in her direct line of sight. The water beaded on his neck, the ridge of his collarbone, rolled down the pale plane of his torso. The temperature warmed slowly, then seemed to turn in an instant, hot but not scalding.

Jonathan took a step back, giving her space. She stayed where she was, her back to the shower wall, her body angled slightly away from him now. She looked at him, at him looking so intently at her. His voice still rang in her ears.

Nancy! Nancy, where are you? I’m right here! Follow my voice. Nancy, I’m right here!

The longer she stood there, the more overwhelming it was how quickly her life had changed—without warning—by everything she’d seen and felt and heard. By Jonathan, that she was experiencing all of this with him, that she’d sought him out in the first place, implicitly trusting him without realizing it until long after the fact, until she was telling him her worst, most cynical thoughts and he was pulling her from another world. By this moment, when he was standing in front of her, naked, vulnerable, selfless.

Looking at him was too much, standing there was too much, just considering going to sleep, closing her eyes for longer than a second, waking up to another day without Barb, was too much.

She looked away, to the clear shower curtain clinging to the wall of the tub. She could just hear the pattering of water on plastic over the sound of their breathing. Her thoughts went unfocused. The pressure built back up in her lungs, in her throat, behind her eyes.

She covered her face in her hands. Whether to protect herself or Jonathan, she couldn’t say.

She heard him take a deep breath; in, out. The sound of the water hitting his skin changed as he inched forward, lay one hand on her arm. Waited. For permission to touch her, to be this close. To get closer.

And at the touch of his hand, something in her let go.

She turned, reaching for him, his hand sliding up her shoulder as she closed her arms around him, her palms flat against his back, her body against his, no trace of shyness, no thought to their nakedness. It was all comfort, the feel of his body against hers. No friction.

She dropped her head, her nose and lips brushing his collarbone. He pulled her closer with his other arm—always pulling her closer, reeling her in—as the hand on her shoulder moved to the crown of her head, stroking her hair.

His hand at the small of her back burned hotter than the water.

Jonathan didn’t shush her, held her firmly in silence. After the woods, his body was more real to her than his voice. He was still except for the hand stroking her hair and his grip on her back, a strong pressure digging into her skin, relaxing slowly, then tightening again. She wasn’t sure which one of them he was trying to reassure.

She lost track of time again, a calm lull instead of a blind panic, until she was no longer crying, just breathing. Lost to the sensation of Jonathan’s body, his hands. The heat and moisture of her breath on his skin.

Gradually, the rest of her senses came back to her. She rested her cheek on his shoulder. The temperature of the water cooled. She lifted her head and pulled back an inch to look at him. He met her gaze with the smallest hint of a smile on his face. She looked at his half-wet hair, and he raised his eyes, too, as if he could see it. He stepped forward, moving her with him, until he was completely under the spray. He gasped again at the temperature, and she laughed, a small, breathy sound. He smiled back, letting her go just enough to bend at the waist and turn the water off. She let her eyes trace the long lines of his body, graceful in a way she recognized was always under the surface, hidden only by his usual awkward demeanor.

He straightened and caught her looking. He blushed. Dropped his eyes to his feet.

Nancy kept her eyes trained on his until he looked back up at her again. This time, she was the one smiling.

She moved past him to open the shower curtain and stepped out, intentionally giving him the same opportunity to look. She tiptoed with dripping feet to the wooden cabinet next to the bathroom door. Grabbed two towels and tried to connect the feeling of her wet feet on the tile to the slide of Jonathan’s skin against hers, instead of the slick of dead leaves under her sneakers.

When she turned around, Jonathan had climbed out of the shower and closed the curtain and was waiting for her to hand him a towel, his hands hanging too casually at his sides. She tossed his towel at him—he caught it, surprised—and buried her face in her own before using it to squeeze out the ends of her hair. Jonathan rubbed his towel over his head. She regarded him in short glances, shy in her looking now, less so in the unhurried way she dried off.

For a minute, everything felt different than it actually was.

She tucked her towel around herself as Jonathan wrapped his around his waist.

“I’ll meet you in my room,” she whispered.

He nodded, the intense gaze back. She flipped the lock on the door and peered into the hall before opening the door wider and nodding to Jonathan. He followed her out and slipped into her room. She stopped at the linen closet in the hall where her parents kept extra winter clothing, pulled out a pair of her dad’s old flannel pajama pants, and made her way down the hallway, bracing herself against the darkness with the light spilling out from behind her bedroom door.

Jonathan was in his boxer shorts and T-shirt, sitting on her bed, facing the window, surrounded by the yellow glow of her lamp. He looked up as she crossed the threshold, closing the door behind her. She held out the pants. He took them wordlessly. She went to her dresser, heard the creak of her bed as he stood up. She peeked over her shoulder. He was standing facing the corner now. The flannel pants bunched at his ankles.

Nancy pulled on her pajamas, hung up their towels. Walked over to him, touched his shoulder. He whipped around, wide-eyed.

“Sorry,” she murmured.

He swallowed, nodding at her apology, then pointed to where her sleeping bag sat rolled up at the foot of her bed.

“I found it in the closet, if you want me to…”

“Yeah, no, I don’t… want to be alone.”

She walked around to her side of the bed, watched him start to roll out the sleeping bag.

“Actually, wait.”

He looked up sharply, concern, maybe even hurt, in his eyes.

“Would you mind…” She took a breath. “Could you just…sleep in the bed? With me?”

Jonathan was frozen in place, staring at her.

“I mean, it’s okay if you don’t—I know it’s a lot to ask, especially after the…” She gestured vaguely at the door. “The shower,” she finished in a small voice.

“I don’t mind.”

His voice was quiet, but sure.

She nodded and climbed into bed, pulling the blankets up under her arms.

“You want the lights off or…?”

“On.”

He nodded solemnly and lay down gingerly next to her, both of them staring at the ceiling. He turned on his side to face her, and she could feel him watching her. She wondered at it, how it was only ever reassuring, never uncomfortable. She turned on her side to look at him.

“Thank you, for before. For…” Holding me. Saving me. Twice. “…coming to check on me.”

“It was nothing.”

She tried to figure out from his expression whether it was false modesty, or embarrassment, or truly a belief that it was insignificant that made him say it, but she couldn’t.

She reached for the hand cradled next to his face. Slipped her hand into it, that tight grip. She shook her head.

“It was everything.”

Exhaustion took over slowly, and it was that hand, those eyes, that held her in place as she drifted into sleep.

#stranger things #nancy x jonathan #jancy #jancy fic #jancy fanfic #nancy wheeler #jonathan byers #mine: fanfic

30 notes · View notes

ketzwrites · 6 years

Note

Unpopular opinion. I don't want the show to force the downworlders to forgive maryse. I get that she's on a redemption arc with her kids. But it should stay there. She's hurt way to many downworlders for them to just forgive her. Her repairing it with luke and Magnus is one thing because it's slightly personal but the rest of them don't owe her shit.

Anonymous said: Super unpopular: I don't ship Luke with Maryse/ I think her redemption came way to easily

Anonymous said: Unpopular opinion: I'm not sure if this is unpopular but I don't think it comes up a lot but I don't like how it's sort of glossed over how Jocelyn & Luke are former Circle members. Yeah they left but they still once held those beliefs and I think that would be a bigger issue especially since he's now a Downworld leader who used to hate downworlders

Doing these three together bc they are kind of similar.

The Circle is one of the most interesting parts of the Shadow World’s history. It started out as a bunch of young Shadowhunters wanting to do the right thing and then turned into really not that. It wasn’t supposed to be a hate group, but an ensemble of these young, fresh-out-of-Academy Shadowhunters wanting to defend the Downworlders and kill the demons once and for all. Only, they were all Shadowhunters, which meant they already thought of themselves as better than the Downworlders by default.

People often forget that Luke and Jocelyn were a part of the Circle. Even more looked over is the fact that they were founding members and the closest people to Valentine. They were there when Val began to shift from righteous to hateful. In fact, Jocelyn was more than ready to justify Val’s murder of warlocks as lawful (1x06). Luke was still following Val into strikes on Downworlders; that was how he was transformed into a werewolf in the first place.

Maryse was there as well, but she wasn’t as close to Valentine as they were. That is not to say she is blameless; she is definitely not. Maryse has proved to be racist and insensitive time and again. In the show, we don’t know why she turned on the Circle, but she did and has ever since followed the Clave’s standard practices toward the Downworlders. That means being a jerk but not killing them at will.

So my question to the people that think Maryse’s redemption arc was too easy: was Jocelyn’s? She literally founded the Circle and yet every single Downworlder in the show loved her and was ready to die for her. Luke was Valentine’s parabatai, he shut himself as far away from the Downworld as he could for years, took over the NY pack to protect Clary, and continued to use them until he lost Jocelyn and had to re-evaluate his choices. Why is Luke seen as this respected Downworlder leader when he’s been in the position for less than two months?

Personally, I agree (and hope) that not all of the Donwoworlders will forgive Maryse. It seems realistic and a very interesting way of telling this story. I also wish the same had happened to Jocelyn. As for Luke, it would be an interesting development to have his authority challenged based on his past. He’s earned his place as the alpha but not quite yet as the respected leader the show regards him as. Plus, we’d possibly get more BAMF moments with Luke and that is always highly appreciated.

td:dr Out of the former Circle members, I don’t think Maryse’s redemption arc was rushed but I agree that it focuses on her children and the Downworlders she is closest to. I think Jocelyn got away with it way too easy and that Luke could still have an interesting storyline coming out from all of this.

I also super ship Luke and Maryse because then that storyline could involve her too and my heartbeat is already racing, send help.

#maryse lightwood #luke garroway #jocelyn fray #a nonny speaks up

21 notes · View notes

abandoned-as-mustard · 6 years

Text

DD 1x06

whaaaaattt? they’re cuffing him -

- *fights cops like a pro* like damn he didn’t even need a smoke bomb to get away. oliver queen, take notes

- OHHH NOOOO A DIRTY COP SHOOTING HIS COMRADE AND THEN BLAMING THE SUSPECTS

- AAAUGUSGSUHGSURHGSURHG

- So when is he gonna get the name daredevil huh i wanna know

- why do all packs of cards have the same royals with the same dead-inside faces

- ON DA RUNNNNN FROM COPS i do love a good chase

- Matt can literally carry a fully grown unconscious man on one shoulder, daaaaayum

- “that sounds pretty bad, but i don’t speak asshole” hahahahahahahaha

- so let me get this straight, Matt has been missing for days and foggy and karen can’t figure it out

- oh daaamn, a policeman has heard vladimir’s screams while he cauterised the wound

- there’s a guy literally lying in a pool of blood and the cop yells “show me your hands” at him

- dammit, the cop squealed into the radio

- get outta there matt!

- that asshole who just turned away ben at the scene deserves to be beat up by matt

- “i’m not big on guns”

“great. little stick. much better.”

- matt murdoch, babysitter of angry bleeding russians

- ew did vladimir just spit out a tooth

- there goes the floor

- how has matt not lost any teeth yet???

- ben: “i’ve sitll got a few stories in me. maybe you two will pop up in one of them.” oh snap

- karen and foggy are adorable tbh

- karen’s voice reminds me of caitlin snow’s tbh

- “hell of a first date, huh?” Well it can’t be any worse than olicity’s first date lol

- “that wasn’t very smart”

“but it was fun”

- it must be truly terrifying to be able to hear someone’s heartbeat stop

- is there anything LESS conspicuous than a black fancy suv?

- how is no one wondering why it’s strange that a guy with no eyeholes through his mask can see

- if there’s one good thing about burner phones, they’re bricks that never die, even if you’re a masked vigilante who just fell through the floor

- every villain ever: “you and i have a lot in common”

- is it just me, or is this “exploding the city to rebuild it” very similar to arrow season 1′s undertaking that almost destroyed the glades

- “the russian, is he alive?”

the russian: “I’m still here, you fat shit!”

- “that’s what makes you dangerous. it’s not the mask, it’s not the skills. it’s the ideology.”

- detective asshole just got shot! serves him right!

- though shame about the other cops who didn’t do anything

- oooh the plot thickens, the news have the mask on video

- “that’s him! that’s the guy who save my life!”

oh for a moment i thougt she was gonna say “that’s him! that’s matt!”

- daaang, a goodbye call to claire...

- shame that the accident gave matt enhanced everything except strength

- OHHHH WHUUUUUUTTT

- THE COP THAT MATT HAD HOSTAGE WAS KILLED BY FAKE COPS TO INCRIMINATE HIM

- THIS IS MAKING MY BLOOD BOIL

- why is 90% of the nighttime light green

- oh nu, vladimir is gonna stay behind so matt can go free.... i was starting to like him.

- *karate kicks door open like a boss*

- aw, damn.goofbye vladimir

#brc watches daredevil

0 notes