based on a dream I had, I present: a short semi-fic about Jack and Shitty and their day-long, beautiful relationship.
Basically, this is what happens:
At a kegster during their freshmen year, in which Shitty is running around being the life of the party even though he’s a freshman, Jack is also in attendance– talking to Berger and Marsh in the kitchen. Jack is there, partly to keep an eye on Shitty, partly because he is surprised by how much he does like some of the guys on his team, mostly because they had won today and Jack is in quite a good mood. Not a good enough mood that he is going to risk going into the living room where music is blasting, but in a good enough mood that he is holding a solo cup of beer and chilling in the kitchen, chatting with Berger and Marsh. He is at ease as Jack ever is– laughing good naturedly as they tease both him and each other and of course, this is when the trouble starts.
The trouble is this: Marsh is drunk and excited that Jack has actually shown up to a Haus kegster and since Jack seems to be in a good mood, Marsh decides to take a risk and ask Jack a Question. More specifically, Marsh rams an friendly elbow into Jack’s ribs and goes:
“Yo, Zimmermann, you like anyone on campus yet?”
A few months prior, that question would have made Jack freeze up. But now, Jack smiles easily (because honestly, it is a rather respectful question– “like” instead of “fuck”; “anyone” instead of assuming “girl”) and he certainly doesn’t want to get into his romantic history or lack of crushes so he smiles, shrugs, and says
“Nah, love’s shitty,” It’s still friendly and he smiles and asks Berg about his crush that the whole team knows about and that should be that.
The problem, however, is that what Alex Berger and Carter Marsh heard was not “Nah, love’s shitty,” but “I’m in love with Shitty.”
so i was watching cinderella while doing my nails and waiting for them to dry which was clearly a Mistake because now i can’t help but think –
the evil stepmother was always evil, okay. say her abuse of her own daughters was different than that of cinderella’s – but it was still abuse. giving them impossible expectations, telling them they were never good enough, never pretty enough, never smart enough. and then she gets married, and anastasia and drizella are ecstatic because this man seems kind and warm and maybe just maybe he can temper their mother, maybe with him around she won’t be so cruel. so they’re on their very best behavior in the beginning, they do just as their mother taught – they trot out their best upper court manners in an attempt to get their new stepfather to like them. but it just comes off as cold and snooty and they’re trying, they are, they’re just bad at it. and they see how he is with cinderella, the smiling girl their own age, and they are jealous. they don’t mean to be, they try not to be, they know it isn’t becoming of young ladies. but she gets hugs and kisses and affection and they get rulers slapped on their hands when they reach for desert and sharp jabs to their sides when they slouch and – soon they hate cinderella, not for anything she’s done, but for what she has and they dont
but then her father dies. and it’s all a tumble of things and cinderella is crying and they’ve lost their only chance at escaping their mother’s clutches and it’s terrible. and everything settles and there’s no reason to be jealous anymore but resentment is hard to let go of and they don’t know what to do. they’re only kids too after all. and they’re so terribly bad at comforting people, they can do flowery words and know all the right bows but cinderella is so sad and they just don’t know what to do with that, because they’re supposed to be sisters but they’re not even friends
and slowly but surely their mother starts abusing cinderella, starts making her a maid in her own home, and she’s their mother, what are anastasia and drizella supposed to do? she rules them with an iron fist, and cinderella doesn’t even like them anyway, it’s none of their business.
except one night anastasia crawls into her sister’s bed in the middle of the night and wakes her up. “i was thirsty,” she explains, eyes wide and shiny, and they’re bad at this with other people but drizella has no problems with pulling anastasia into her arms. the younger girl clutches her sister and continues, “i was thirsty and i went down to the kitchen to get some water and – and cinderella is still up! she’s doing the dishes, and she should be asleep, mom is going to make her make breakfast in the morning and -” she cuts herself off with a hiccup and whispers, “it’s not fair.”
“life isn’t fair,” drizella says, echoing one of their mother’s favorite phrases. but her sister is staring at her with wet eyes, and it’s not like their mother is likely to get up before sunrise anyway, she hates waking up, so she pulls herself and anastasia out of bed and off they go.
All the gods of myth and legend are real, but having your prayers answered depends on discovering which god can hear you. You figured out which god is listening to your prayers, but they’re not what you expected.
Suzy
was dissapointed. Most people her age had discovered their deity so
far, and she was starting to think she was godless. She turned the
next page of McBayers’ Little Book of Deities,
and tried reading their names aloud to see if she’d get a reaction.
It had taken her weeks just to get through Chinese spirits and
deities, and had finally reached the first page of Egyptian
Gods and you.
“Ammit?
Amun? Anhur?” Nothing. Her heart slowly sank again.Three
more tries, and she’d stop for now.
“Anubis?”
The
ground shook. The lights in Suzy’s room flickered and went out. A
single flame hovered in the middle of the room, and as it grew to a
blaze it changed form. Within the blink of an eye, there was a tall
figure standing in Suzy’s room. The body of a man, and the head of a
jackal. His eyes shone bright as he peered at her.
WHAT
IS IT, SUZY OF THE HOUSE MILLER?
“You’re
the deity that answers my prayers?”
INDEED.
I, ANUBIS, WHO RULES OVER THE LAND OF THE DEAD, IS HERE TO ANSWER
YOUR REQUESTS.
Suzy
thought for a moment. “O great and mighty Anubis who rules over the
afterlife, can I please have a puppy?”
Anubis
seemed taken aback.
IN
THE CENTURIES THAT I HAVE BEEN PRAYED TO, THIS IS THE FIRST TIME I
HAVE BEEN REQUESTED SOMETHING LIKE THIS. CHILD, HOW OLD ARE YOU?
“I’m
eight and a half. My mommy says that if I can take care of a puppy, I
can keep it.”
ARE
YOU CERTAIN YOU DO NOT WISH FOR ME TO BRING PLAGUES UPON YOUR ENEMIES
OR WEIGH A SOUL FOR YOU?
Suzy
shook her head. “I want a puppy.”
CHILD,
IN TRUTH THIS WISH I CANNOT GRANT. MY JOB HAS BEEN TO BRING PEACE AND
LEAD SOULS INTO THE AFTERLIFE, NOTHING MORE. IF I WERE TO CREATE A
HOUND FOR YOU, IT WOULD BE FORMED OF BONE AND SOUL ALONE.
Suzy
thought for a second. She would have liked to have a nice fluffy
puppy, but then she remembered how Aunt Marge’s Sphinx cat was still
nice, even without fur.
“No
fur is fine, as long as they don’t bite and make a mess.”
Anubis
nodded, and raised a hand. Underneath his palm an intricate symbol
appeared on the floor. It glowed bright, and the floorboards burst
apart. Up sprang a massive skeletal dog, bigger than suzy herself.
Its eye sockets held blue flame, and its jaw hang partly open in a
perpetual grin. It slowly walked over to Suzy and nuzzled her.
“What
does it eat?”
IT
WILL NOT NEED SUSTENANCE, AND WANTS NOTHING MORE THAN TO SERVE ITS
NEW MASTER. I HOPE THIS WILL SUFFICE.”
“I
love it. Thank you, Anubis.”
Anubis
looked slightly taken aback, but nodded peacefully.
FAREWELL
FOR NOW, SUZY OF THE MILLERS. IF YOU EVER NEED ANYTHING ELSE YOU HAVE
BUT TO ASK ME.
Suzy
nodded, and ran over to her parents’ room to show them her new dog.
She was pretty sure they couldn’t object to this pet.
Oh man, Courfeyrac! He’s an interesting figure in fandom, isn’t he? He’s one of the Amis I have a harder time of writing (Feuilly and Jehan are the hardest for me), and I wonder if other writers have the same weird nebulous problems I do?
But it’s interesting, when I first joined the fandom, Courfeyrac/Jehan was this Huge Thing, and Courfeyrac was sparkly and enthusiastic and probably wore brightly colored skinny jeans. And then the Courfeyrac/Combeferre contingent got going, and the Courfeyrac there feels truer to me even if the ship isn’t really my thing, but the very fact that those two Courfeyracs feel like completely different people probably says that he’s not the easiest person to characterize.
I wish I knew why! Because I do it too, and he’s canonically referred to as the center of the group, which should make him the easiest to characterize. But maybe it’s that Les Mis fandom is, largely, E/R fandom, and thus the two extremes of the group get characterized first and the center sort of becomes whatever he needs to become? It’s hard to say, really.
BUT ANYWAY I do love Courfeyrac, even if I don’t always have my characterization of him down! I think that pretty frequently he’s the friend who keeps his friends fed and watered and on something resembling a healthy sleep schedule, particularly the other two in the triumvirate. He’s the mediator, when they disagree. He’ll cheer people up when they need cheering, but more importantly, I think, he’ll listen and offer hopeful advice (but only when asked). He’s the Mom Friend, and he’s caretaking a lot, as well as being a vital part of a movement (and while Enjolras may be a major and passionate figure in it, and Combeferre as well, make no mistake–Courfeyrac is the one greeting new people and making them comfortable and useful, and he’s often the one with the practical solutions based on the high-flying ideas the other two get).
Which is why I think Marius and Cosette are so good for him, as a ship? Marius shows up and he’s this ridiculous boy, and he needs Courfeyrac (”I have come to sleep with you” and all) but maybe in a different way than Serious Revolutionary Courfeyrac. And Courfeyrac kind of lets loose and has fun wtih him, and it’s not like he can’t do that with Les Amis, but he feels a little less guilty about the relaxation he takes with Marius, I think? Because Marius is part of the movement but perhaps not in as intimate a role. And then Marius and Cosette fall in adorable love! And Courfeyrac is happy for them, because of course he is, they’re perfect for each other!
But I think he’d find all that sweetness between them restful, and hopeful, and if he was already half in love with Marius from getting to relax and have fun around him, I don’t think it would take him long to see how wonderful Cosette is, and how much he loves being around them both apart and together.
And this got long! But yes, clearly I have feelings about this ship. I’m super sleepy so I don’t know how well I am articulating those feelings, but there are definitely many feelings.
Okay I already wrote volumes about Dean’s weird posturing in the diner here, but I also wanted to add this bit here.
Dean knows Cas is not interested in the waitress. Cas does sniff her (?) just to check up on Dean’s stupid theory of waitresses smell like food, but he’s not interested. So what does Dean do? Mary has just told them all off, but he still postures for Wally’s benefit, pretending to be wingman to Cas, when he KNOWS Cas is disinterested. He can’t help but give himself away though-
Seriously, Dean? My devastatingly handsome friend? That’s not being a wingman, that screams I have a secret crush on my ‘friend’.
And Cas is clueless, even after Mandy is clearly interested –
And Dean? Dean’s just thrilled. So thrilled he looks like he wants to die inside.
On a more serious note, after the boys reach the barn, look at how fast Dean abandons the conversation and rushes to Cas’s side. And he knows it’s bad, so bad. Dean’s method of dealing with people he loves dying?
Step 1: Try to gauge the situation by using humor-
Cas is luckily alert enough to snark right back.
Dean asks to see how bad the wounds are, and two seconds after Cas starts showing him, covers it up. He can’t bear to see it.
Dean Winchester, seasoned hunter who’s seen more than his fair share of gore since he was fucking four years old, makes him cover it up because he just cannot bear to actually see Cas in agony. And he’s so gentle about it.
Step 2: Pure denial.
Cas looks BAD. And he’s never been one to exaggerate.
Did you see those micro-expressions? That little lip wobble? The tiny gasp of shock and disbelief? The swallow? Jensen is the the fucking master of these. This is the brief instant where the enormity hits Dean, but he shuts it down.
Immediately.
Seriously Dean? Time for WHAT? He is DYING and you know it. And this is when he calls for Sam, calls for Sam to abandon everything and come right away because Cas is dying. And this brings us to the next step for Dean –
Step 3: Anger
Dean’s furious. At Crowley, at himself, at every damn thing in the world that stands in his way to saving Cas. And he’s being beyond unreasonable here, it’s not Crowley’s fault and Crowley has no obligation whatsoever to help them out. But Cas, Cas is dying. And Dean’s *this* close to cracking.
Now, for Cas’s speech. Cas knows this is it. But he has his family surrounding him, he has Dean with him. And he needs to make sure they live. This is the last chance he has for telling them (and Dean) what he feels for them and boy does he!
Mary looks at Dean when Cas makes this statement, cementing who it is that Cas is addressing.
And Dean, Dean’s unhappy. He knows that the things they shared together did change Cas, did put him into this mess where he has to die slowly and painfully.
Look at that. Sam’s upset, but Dean can’t even meet Cas’s eyes anymore. He’s feeling responsible for Cas’s impending death.
And finally, FINALLY, after years of Dean telling him over and over again, Cas says they are his family. More specifically, Dean. Cas is thinking of that day, so long ago, when he said-
“You’re not my family, Dean – I have no family.”
But he’s not just family now.
The camera immediately panned to Dean there. Cas was addressing Dean, and Dean only till now. It’s only when he says “I love all of you” that Sam’s reaction is showed at all.
(as a side not, look at how touched Sam is. How many people have told him this?)
And true to form, the Winchesters refuse to leave. And they fight. Mary STILL doesn’t give the game away, I admit I was a bit :O at that, but that’s for another post entirely… Sam kills the Price of Hell, but there’s still no saving Cas. Sam is one who rushes to Cas first, because he’s still able to function. Sam is the one who reassures Cas, tells him that they’re there, that he won’t die alone… 😦
But Dean, Dean’s pain is beyond words.
Tell me that is not the face of someone who is watching the love of his life dying in front of him. Tell me Dean doesn’t care. Just try. He’s praying. I just know he is.
But yay, Crowley saves the day! And Dean’s reaction is the only one showed.
Look at the utter disbelief in his eyes. Look at this entire montage afterwards –
The look they shared in the first one, Dean’s expression in the last gif, the pure amazement and relief in his eyes.. It was almost painful to watch. By the way, Sam’s already let go. It’s Dean who’s still unable to believe his eyes, unable to take his hands off…
And this, this was the most perfect ending anyone could hope for –
*sighs*
Cas said he loved Dean. It’s fucking canon.
The camera immediately panned to Dean there. Cas was addressing Dean, and Dean only till now. It’s only when he says “I love all of you” that Sam’s reaction is showed at all.
It’s also interesting to note that Sam doesn’t get his reaction shot until after they go back to Dean, again.
Though the more I look at the coverup, I think the meaning there might have been twofold. Dean doesn’t want to look at it, but he also doesn’t want Cas to look at it. He wants to be able to give Cas hope, to say “you’re fine, it feels worse than it is, you’ll heal” which he knows he can’t do if Cas can see the infection spreading all over his body.
Also in Crowley’s line I think he was calling Cas “choir boy” not “quiet boy.”
The Most Beautiful Man In The World lives in my building. i don’t know his name. we met on a bus, when i smiled WAY too brightly at him for strangers because, honest to god, my whole heart lit up in a way that made me think, “oh, i must know that guy!!” no. i didn’t. he’s just The Most Beautiful Man In The World.
what does The Most Beautiful Man In The World look like? i will tell you:
like the way the sun spills over water at dusk
like the way food smells when you’re hungry
like the sound angels make when they’re doing folk covers of pop songs on their heavenly harps
and also kind of like the guy who played Chad in “high school musical,” if the guy who played Chad in “high school musical” was the most beautiful man in the world.
i tell you this not only to brag that i live in the same apartment complex as The Most Beautiful Man In The World but also because i want to know WHY, if there even IS A GOD, every single time i run into The Most Beautiful Man In The World i look like a LITERAL DUMPSTER TROLL that has just CRAWLED OUT OF ITS GARBAGE HOUSE in search of FREE WIFI AND A SLURPEE. i want to know why i can never just BE COOL with The Most Beautiful Man In The World when we ride the elevator together, which is!!!! kind of often!!!!!
DID YOU GUYS KNOW that sometimes i look nice?? sometimes i actually look like a FUNCTIONING ADULT!!! sometimes i would go so far as to say i am an ATTRACTIVE INDIVIDUAL!!!!!
you know who DOESN’T know any of that???
THE MOST BEAUTIFUL MAN IN THE WORLD, WHO LIVES IN MY BUILDING!!!
here’s a quick rundown of the last few times i ran into The Most Beautiful Man In The World:
i was wearing a maxi dress i had very cleverly biked home in, without a helmet* (*don’t try that at home, kids), in the VERY HOT AFTERNOON SUN, so i was a GROSS SWEAT MONSTER but without any OBVIOUS INDICATOR that there was a normal reason for it, and i couldn’t stand to look at him so i just glared at my phone while he probably wondered, alarmed, whether i was fleeing the scene of a crime
i was wearing a white shirt that i had not SECONDS before spilled salsa ALL OVER in a big red stain right down the front like a KINDERGARTNER
i was carrying two armfuls of ENORMOUS bags of popcorn with a three musketeers bar literally in my mouth and he overheard me say through my stuffed candy cheeks to my doorman, “oh, no, i’m not having a party, this is literally all for me”
i dropped my backpack while opening my mail and said to it, defeatedly, “why? why did you do that when i explicitly told you not to? do you like being on the floor?”
i fell into and then off of the elevator
why??? why does this happen??? what vengeful god has orchestrated it so the ONLY TIMES i ever run into The Most Beautiful Man In The World are when i could easily be mistaken for a child’s doll that has been put through the wash by accident, or a dollar bill that has been stained by years of being in people’s sweaty palms, or a mop with eyes???
whatever. everything costs money and everyone you love disappoints you. Mop Eyes out.
Grantaire who never really understood what people meant when they talked about romance or love, who felt parts of the descriptions resonate with him but was utterly baffled by others.
Grantaire who doesn’t think he has ever been in love or had a crush because he thinks he would probably know if he had, but sometimes has doubts.
Grantaire who remains unattached, and people assume it is because of his ugliness, or his drinking, or his skepticism, but really it is because he just doesn’t know what people are supposed to feel before entering a relationship.
Grantaire who views the people he meets as friends, or as potential partners for sex, or as people to paint, but doesn’t know whether he should consider them in a romantic light. Grantaire who is drawn to some people more than others and doesn’t understand why; who sometimes wants to take a relationship to some other level but doesn’t know in what way.
Grantaire who is drawn to Enjolras as he always is.
He “admires, loves, and venerates” Enjolras. He is intrigued by and in awe of his passion, his light, his ideals, his strength, his personality. He comes to all the Amis meetings to watch him. He comes to realize that he needs him, loves him.
But he doesn’t know what kind of love that is.
Hugo says Enjolras “charmed him, without his being clearly aware of it, and without the idea of explaining it to himself having occurred to him.” Everyone loves to write about Grantaire knowing he loves Enjolras, and loves him romantically, and pines over him. But what about a Grantaire who doesn’t know? Grantaire who has gotten so used to not knowing whether he’s romantically attracted to people that it’s made him cynical about love itself in addition to everything else to the point that he tries not to think about it too hard.
Grantaire who might be romantically attracted to Enjolras but might not be and will probably never be sure.
Canon Grantaire who takes his place by Enjolras when it matters most.
Modern AU Grantaire who has more time and terminology on his side, and maybe is able to make a queerplatonic relationship with Enjolras work.
Just. Quoiromantic Grantaire whose love – whether for Enjolras or for his other friends – is undefinable and confusing as hell, but also deep and unwavering, and it’s all okay.
Does anyone want to hear about my idea for a Victor Hugo theme park
ok so for most of the park it’s modeled to look like the streets of Paris in the 1800s, obviously. I’m kind of picturing there being a little Guernsey attached too, to show his exile, but I’m not sure how that would work.
attractions include:
a replica of the cathedral of Notre Dame (there would be some kind of activity or tour or ride or something inside, but I don’t know what because I haven’t read Hunchback yet)
a large scale sewer system (this could be some kind of roller coaster)
“build your own barricade”
a permanent barricade with hourly battles where visitors pick a side and shoot water guns at each other
a souvenir shop where the cashier looks like the bishop and merchandise includes candlesticks, handkerchiefs, gargoyles, books, costumes etc
you can buy loaves of bread at the food places but you run the risk of being randomly chased by an employee dressed as Javert
an Elephant statue and you can pay to stay in it overnight
a stage where performers lead sing-alongs of the songs from the musical
the Thenardiers’ inn, where you can actually eat and/or stay (although why would you tbh)
this is mostly Les Mis stuff because that’s what I know but there would be things connected to his other works too
A giant section in the middle that is completely irrelevant to Victor Hugo and the rest of the park but it is just there because you found it interesting.
PARK EXPANSION:
Guernsey Exile Funhouse: It’s just a replica of the Hugo house, but with funhouse mirrors. Detailed descriptions for every bizarre design choice invite attendees to get lost in a maze of extraneous historical detail!
Bruneseau’s Sewer Adventure: A Pirates of the Carribean-style Boat Ride trip, join Bruneseau’s intrepid crew as they ride the wild waters of the uncharted Paris Sewers to sound out how best to organize civic improvements in a journey that goes not just through the underbelly of Paris, but through time itself! Keep an eye out for rats, criminals, revolutionaries, and uncomfortable metaphors about the wasted potential of the lower classes!
Eateries: The Musain Café, The Cornthe, and Victor Hugo’s All Night Salon, all of them featuring really questionable dishes (the Toilers of the Sea Plate, Featuring: Tentacles?? Of Some Sort!!, the June 5th Breakfast Special ft more pickled oysters than modern palates tend to want, the Hans of Iceland Unlimited Refills Electrolyte Drink (with souvenir skull cup))and at least a few cosplaying staff members ready to drag patrons into a discussion on literature and The Ages of Humanity
…I’m not going if I can’t join a Hernani Memorial Riot though
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