#I’ll get back to bird and rat comic

[oobbbear]

Ah yes story but no plot no lore just vibes

[you-can-call-me-wanda]

Ramble On

Pairing: Razzle Dingley x Reader

Author’s Note: Happy New Year’s everybody!

From the second Razzle laid eyes on you he was smitten.

You were sitting across from Michael at a table when Razzle entered the bar. He was going in to meet up with his friends for a night of drinking and conversing. Mike had told Razzle that he was bringing a friend of his but hadn’t told him much about you. Just that you had known Mike for years and that you were a lot of fun. Had Razzle known that you were going to be so freaking beautiful, he might have put a little more effort into how he looked tonight.

He glanced down at his outfit before approaching the table. He didn’t look too bad. He was wearing his favorite pants, the ones with the black and white vertical stripes. On top, he had on some frilly white dress shirt under his leather jacket. He found himself thinking about what your first impression of him would be and he wanted to smack himself. He didn’t know you at all. Why should he care what you thought of him?

“Razzle!” Michael shouted at the sight of his friend, beckoning him over to the table where you and a group of others sat.

He motioned for him to come take a seat. Razzle offered you a shy smile before taking a seat in the chair next to you.

“Hi,” you greeted, turning toward him slightly. “I’m (Y/N).”

“I’m Nick,” he said happily, “but everyone calls me Razzle.”

“Yeah, Mikey told me,” you said with a small laugh that left Razzle’s heart beating fast.

“Mikey?” He asked, not able to miss the way you referred to his friend. Maybe he had read the situation all wrong. Maybe you and Michael were more than just good friends.

“I told you no one else calls me Mikey,” Michael said, rolling his eyes and taking a swig of his beer.

“Aw, Mikey,” you said with a playful pout. “You know you love it.”

This caused the rest of the table to laugh. Michael flipped you the bird. Maybe Razzle had a chance after all.

You subtly looked the newcomer up and down, checking him out as the rest of the table fell into their own conversations. He was handsome with beautiful blue eyes and a strong nose.  Your eyes wandered to the buttons and pins adorning his leather jacket.

“You like The Damned?” you asked, pointing to the pin on his jacket.

He glanced down at his pin before looking up at you with an excited grin.

“I do!” Razzle said. “Do you?”

“They’re one of my favorite bands at the moment,” you said, leaning forward in your seat to be closer to him.

“Rat Scabies is one of my favorite drummers of all time,” he said. He was so happy to be talking to you.

You nodded along to his words.

“He’s amazing,” you agreed.

Razzle bit his lip slightly. “I play drums too,” he said, hoping that information might impress you. You obviously liked rock music. Maybe this would make you like him too.

Mike, who had been listening to the two of you talk, raised a silent brow at his friend. Razzle wasn’t very subtle, and it was clear to Michael that he was already interested in you. This wasn’t surprising to Michael though. He’d had a feeling the two of you would hit it off.

“(Y/N) knows,” Michael said, cutting into the conversation. “They know all about our band, mate.”

“Oh,” Razzle said, a tad embarrassed at seeming so eager.

“Yeah,” you said, “but I’ve never seen you play with Hanoi before. Though if you’re half as good as Mikey says you are, I’m sure you’re amazing.”

Razzle grinned so wide his cheeks began to ache.

****

Talking with you was something Razzle would like to do for the rest of his life he decided. You were perfect in his eyes. Every joke of yours had him giggling like a fool and he found himself hanging onto every word you said.

Michael found the whole situation to be quite comical. Razzle appeared to be starstruck in your presence, something you seemed to fail to notice. Maybe you thought Razzle drooled over everyone he met, but Mike knew better. Razzle had fallen for you hard and fast and his attempts to woo you were laughable at best.

It seemed like every chance he could, Razzle was telling you some story or fact about him to try and seem cool or impress you.

He explained to you in depth about how much muscle it took to be a drummer. He talked about how his hair used to be dyed green. He went on and on about how well he knew his way around a car.

And you, you just nodded along, your head rested in your hand. Your smile never left your face though. Razzle’s ramblings were absolutely adorable. The way he seemed so excited about everything and the way he seemed so happy to be talking to you. Yes, you realized exactly what was going on, but you didn’t quite mind it actually.

He was telling you all about his fourth-grade science fair when Michael decided to intervene.

“Razzle mate,” he said interrupting his friend, “can I talk to you for a second?”

Razzle looked from Michael to you and back to Michael. “Um, sure,” he said.

He followed Michael to the bar, leaving you alone at the table. The rest of the group had left already, leaving only the three of you at the bar. Razzle looked back at you, nervous.

“What’s up?” he asked.

“What’s up? Razzle you haven’t stopped talking since you got here,” Michael said. “You’re talking about the fucking science fair, mate!”

Razzle looked back at you again. “You think I’m talking too much?” he said, worrying his lip between his teeth.

Michael ran his hand down his face, exasperated. “That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you.”

“Oh.” He frowned and looked down. “So I should stop talking?”

“Just take a step back,” Michael suggested. “Trust me, (Y/N) is into you. So just calm down, alright.”

Razzle perked up immediately. “Into me?” He bounced on the balls of his feet, excited. “Really?”

“Just go,” Michael said, pushing him back toward the table with a smile. He knew Razzle was absolutely helpless now.

Razzle bounded back over to you while Mike headed over to the bar to get another drink and give the two of you some time alone.

“Hey,” you said when he returned. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah,” he breathed, sitting down. “Uh, sorry about that and sorry about earlier too. I didn’t mean to carry the conversation like that. I just really like you is all, and Mike said you might actually like me too which made me kinda nervous but it’s a good thing actually, if you do like me, because I think you’re really cool. I just wanted you to like me so that’s why I told you about my green hair and biceps and shit and yeah, I’m doing it again. Sorry. I’ll stop talking now.” A blush rose to his cheeks as he finished.

You stared wide-eyed at Razzle once he finished another rambling. It took you a moment to fully comprehend everything he had just said.

“Wow,” you finally got out. “Um, wow. Well, I do really like you.” You looked down at your lap abashed. “And you don’t have to apologize. I could listen to you talk for hours if I’m being honest.”

“Really?” Razzle asked. “Because Mike said maybe I should shut up about the science fair which is understandable I guess but it’s actually kind of a funny story, the science fair, because- mmph.”

He was cut off by your lips colliding into his. He sunk into the kiss as you pulled him forward and ran a hand through his dark locks of hair. He moaned slightly and you took the opportunity to trace your tongue along his bottom lip, eliciting another soft groan. You pulled away slowly with a smile.

“Sorry,” you said. “I just had to do that. You can tell me about the science fair now if you’d like.”

Razzle laughed at your statement. “Fuck the science fair,” he said, leaning in towards you. “I’d much rather do more of that.”

[traincat]

How do you think Peter feels about pets? Like do you think he's a dog or a cat person (or a more obscure bird/rat/insect person). I know that I personally think he wouldn't have pets because he already seems to have too much on his plate but do you personally think he likes animals? I think he'd prefer cats (but that might just be me projecting). I also see sometimes the headcanon that he's neutral on animals in generally because of seeming to not having had grown up with pets.

This is just one of those little things that technically doesn't matter I guess but it's always fun to see what people think.

So I can give a my opinions answer here and then I can give a what canon seems to back answer here, which is a little inconsistent but you know. Comics.

From my perspective, I really don't think Peter is a pet person. Like, obviously he shouldn't have a pet, especially not a pet like a dog where you have to walk them every day and stick to a schedule, like, that's not his lifestyle. That's cruel to the dog. Someone call the ASPCA. I think even a fish is pushing it because you have to remember to feed them. A cat is probably okay because you can leave food out and most of them will pace themselves, and they're independent animals, but even that is kind of pushing it. If he's living alone it's just not a good idea. But even beyond whether or not it's a good idea for him to have a pet, I just don't think he has that much interest in owning one. I agree with you that I think he's neutral on animals -- I don't think he dislikes them (for the most part, and I'll get into that in a moment) but I don't think he has any particular desire for them either. If he had a spouse and/or kids who wanted a pet, I think he'd get the pet. I think he'd take care of the pet. I think he would complain about the pet all day, every day. I think he and the pet would have a mutually antagonistic relationship. Peter thinks it ruins his shoes on purpose and he's right. He's definitely the dad who accidentally killed a goldfish or two and then hastily replaced it with a fish that looks nothing like the original because he never really looked at the fish before.

I do think he prefers cats to dogs. I think this in part because of the running plotline in Peter Parker: Spider-Man v2 where he was in a weird ongoing actual fight with his neighbor's bulldog, so I'd like to say canon backs me up on this but in recent years it's been, you know. Wishy-washy. The push to make Peter a less distinct and interesting character. That Amazing Spider-Man vol 5 or something #25 backup Hannah Blumenreich did where teen Peter like, definitely steals someone's dog and asks Aunt May if they can keep it is the bane of my existence. But I think he has a fondness for cats as generally independent loners who like climbing onto high spaces, and a disinterest in dogs as social creatures, and I think the majority of canon that mentions his animal preferences backs me up on this.

"I always liked cats, but when I was little Aunt May used to tell me I was allergic." (Spectacular Spider-Man Annual #8.)

"I was hoping you could feed Barker for me while I'm gone? He's such a good boy -- I know he won't be any trouble." "Not if you paid me a million bucks, Blondie." (Peter Parker v2 #31)

(ASM v2 #27)

We never found out what happened to the above very smelly, very large alley cat -- named Fluffy -- that adopted Peter during his first roommates with Randy Robertson era, which is a shame. I'd much rather have seen the return of this cat than the whole Boomerang situation. So while ultimately I think the closest Peter gets to a pet of his own volition is a house spider building a web in the corner of his apartment that he refers to as his roommate, I think out of all common pets, he's probably the closest to a cat person.

[honalele]

Seventeen

This will all be over soon.

A vow.  

Ranboo placed the final bright red package on top of the large stack that sat in the middle of Big Q’s restaurant and stepped back to admire his work. It almost looked like Christmas, but instead of ugly sweaters and scented candles, these gifts were full of gunpowder. Ranboo breathed in the familiar smell. Mr. Soot said that he couldn’t stand it. Not after what he’d done to L’Manberg and especially not after what he said to Tommy. Even the smell of gunpowder on Ranboo’s clothing was enough to cause Mr. Soot to gag. Ranboo had to be sure to clean himself up after this final blow. Soon the van would monopolize the business. Soon he’d have proof that Mr. Soot was a changed man. Soon the voices would die down. All Ranboo needed to do was get rid of the competition.

“What are you doing?”

Ranboo’s heart turned to lead when he heard the familiar voice behind him. He held the detonator close, uncertainty clawing at the lining of his stomach.

“You weren’t supposed to be here.” He said with his back still turned to the door.

“I forgot my jacket.” The boy responded. Ranboo let his fingertips graze over the remote’s button. Whatever was in his head toyed him with visions of what could happen if he pushed it at that very moment.

Two birds, one stone.

Everything in Ranboo’s mind screamed at him to press it, but every fiber in his body told him not to. It was like someone was playing a game of tug of war with his body, both sides aggressively trying to gain control, but tearing him at the seams in the process. The world that once appeared black and white had now become a grey abyss and he was lost in it.

Acting without hesitation is the cure to a gelatin bone structure.

Mr. Soot’s voice rang in Ranboo’s ears. He wanted to press the button so badly. The trigger was one flick away. And yet,

“Ranboo. Turn around.”

Tubbo.

Ranboo turned to face him. The voice in his head started shouting at him in refutation, but Ranboo couldn’t make out the words. He was too focused on the tacky comic burger stitched into Tubbo’s uniform.

“It’s not what it looks like. This… it was supposed to be a harmless prank, but…” Ranboo shivered, his body was growing tired. All he wanted to do was blow this place to the ground. Even if it cost both him and Tubbo their lives.

“You’re not yourself.” Tubbo said as he took a step forward. Ranboo took a step back in response and pointed the detonator threateningly at Tubbo, but the boy didn’t seem to be fazed. “This isn’t you.” His voice was nicer than the one shouting in Ranboo’s mind. He sounded so calm and so sure. But Ranboo’s mind recoiled and flashed him a vision of the explosion. It would hit Ranboo first, but his skin was tough and would absorb most of the blow. Tubbo’s skin on the other hand was much softer, as proven in the scars on his arms and in his face.

His face.

“Ranboo, look at me.”

Why couldn’t he bring himself to look at Tubbo’s face?

Listen to me.

The voice spoke, clearer than it had in a while. Panic flooded into Ranboo. He couldn’t tell who was in control anymore. His memories started slipping away like a loose balloon in a severe storm. His surroundings faded in and out with every breath as Ranboo struggled to keep control.

He wasn’t sure where he was or what was happening. Was he at the mansion? What was he holding? Was it Michael’s doll? The one with the blue buttoned-up dress?

Button.

The detonator. Right. He was holding a detonator. To what? What was he detonating? Perhaps the garage? The shed?

Press the button.

Someone was speaking to him, but he couldn’t place the voice. Ranboo’s thumb hovered over the button. It felt like the right thing to do.

“Ranboo.” Tubbo’s voice came through. He was close.

Ranboo felt a small tug on the sleeve of his uniform.

Uniform?

Tubbo was standing nearby, cradling the hand that Ranboo held the detonator in. Ranboo could tell that the boy was staring at him, and even though the voice screamed and his whole body withdrew at the thought of looking back, he did.

Tubbo’s gaze gripped tightly to Ranboo’s as if Tubbo believed that it was the only thing that kept Ranboo from falling off the edge of the world. The space around Ranboo froze, and he felt himself come out of his body. All the noise in his head had become muffled; tossed into a glass box and locked in the back of his mind. The once ominous mansion setting melted away and now he and Tubbo were stood in the middle of a snowy landscape with the sun shining down on them. Ranboo watched from the sky as his body place its free hand under Tubbo’s. The small voice screamed at him to claw Tubbo off and activate the redstone, but it was about as powerful as the whispers of a rat. The air around them was almost magical, and reminiscent of something sweet as strawberry. And Ranboo watched as his body simply held Tubbo’s hand.

Ranboo wanted to be that person, but he felt like he was looking at a photograph from another universe. It all seemed so distant.

“Hey, hold on. Don’t stop looking in my eyes.” Ranboo’s stomach rolled and he felt his vision narrow as he was suddenly pulled back into his body. He didn’t even realized that his gaze had shifted, but Tubbo had drawn him back. The boy reached up and held Ranboo’s cheek in the palm of his hand. “Why does it have to be this way? Can’t we be seventeen? Is that so hard to do?” His voice made it sound like such a simple task, but his eyes were welling up with tears, holding the amount of pain a seventeen year old should never have to hold. “If you could just let me in.” Ranboo felt his grip on the detonator loosen and fall into Tubbo’s hand. The voice gave one final cry of defeat, and then disappeared. And suddenly, Ranboo was back under the fluorescent lighting of the burger shop. He was back in his smelly uniform. Back with Tubbo. Suddenly, Ranboo was seventeen again.

“There he is.” Tubbo said with a relieved smile. Ranboo felt a stray tear run down his cheek. It burned into his skin, but Tubbo wiped it away. “Purple was never a good color for you anyway.” Ranboo wasn’t sure what Tubbo meant by that, but he was glad that everything seemed to be ok now.

Then suddenly glass shattered and fire rained down onto Ranboo’s skin. All the noise and static came back in a vengeful blur. Ranboo thought he heard Tubbo screaming at someone, but he couldn’t open his eyes.

“He broke the glass! The aquarium!”

The tiny voices of Ranboo’s particles forced themselves into his ears, feeding him all of the information that he couldn’t see.

“He wasn’t going to do anything! I was handling it!” Ranboo heard Tubbo’s voice yelling on top of all the terrible noise in his mind. Then, he felt that hand, that firm and caring grip, pull him up onto his feet.

“Tubbo, if you leave here without explaining yourself, I’ll make you clean the fryer!”

“Come on Ranboo, let’s go, let’s go.” Tubbo said as he pulled Ranboo along. And the slight giggle in his voice told Ranboo that they weren’t in any real danger. Ranboo allowed Tubbo to lead him through Las Nevadas completely blind and felt a strange sense of joy tear through him as the water droplets flew off his body and Tubbo’s laugh filled the air. He felt something flee from his mind, but like a dream that you couldn’t quite remember, it was gone in an instant. Ranboo didn’t bother searching for it, instead he focused on the present moment. Running somewhere with Tubbo.

Together they bounded across terrain unknown to Ranboo. Eventually they stopped, out of breath and satisfied with their distance. Tubbo propped Ranboo up against something solid and helped wipe the water from his face. Ranboo blinked up at the boy, his vision blurred at first, but finally focusing in on those brilliant blue eyes.

“Are you ok?” Tubbo breathed. Ranboo nodded silently and gave him a small smile. Tubbo rolled his eyes back and heaved a relieved sigh before flopping himself against the large boulder that he’d propped Ranboo against. “Thank the gods.” Ranboo blinked a few more times and began to take in his surroundings. They were sitting at the top of a large hill that looked down on Las Nevadas. The sun was just beginning to set, its fiery rays stretching out over golden sand dunes and silver mountains. That precious scent of summer swam through the air along with the lazy lightning-bugs that flew around them. Ranboo wasn’t quite sure what they were doing here. He couldn’t exactly remember why he was drenched in water or why it felt like his head was about to burst, but he was with Tubbo, so he assumed that everything was ok.

Then Tubbo folded his hand into Ranboo’s.

“Never scare me like that again.” He said. Ranboo turned to the boy who was looking at him with a stern expression. Ranboo wasn’t sure what Tubbo meant by that, but he gave him a reassuring nod all the same. The worry in Tubbo’s eyes didn’t vanish completely, but he seemed content with the response, turning to rest his head against Ranboo’s shoulder.

Never scare Tubbo.

A promise.

A memory.

A vow.

[popculturebuffet]

Ducktales: Terror of the Terra-Firmians!  (Lena Retrospective) (Commission by WeirdKev27): Launchpad Looses his Last Brain Cell and I Loose My Patience

Welcome back Weblena Warriors to the second part of my look at everyone’s favorite Emo Teen Shadow Lesbian Duck... and probably the only one but hey, semantics, Shadow Into Light, which was made possible by viewers like you, the ultra humanite and a commission from WeirdKev27. Picking up where we left off, we have our first episode that has a different intended order than airing order. 

As most of you probably remember, but some of you who joined later might not be aware of the broadcast order for the first half of season one is, in the academic sense, pretty fucked. It’s not Darkwing Duck’s entirely fucked by a web of badger spiders and a queen snake on top to make it some sort of train situation, but by just sorta airing whatever episodes they wanted to, Disney messed with the character balance so Huey got less focus, not that he got a ton of focus this season but still, as well as leaning into the episodes focusing more on the kids with less involvement from the adults which gave the wrong impression about the series. While it IS very focused on the triplets and webby, the show isn’t entirely about them, but as Frank has mentioned a few times, Disney Channel apparently has this WEIRD thing where they assume kids won’t like stories starring the adult characters. 

Yeah I’ve been wanting to talk about this for a while. Mostly how it’s so dumb I could swear Pauly Shore was an exec at Disney Channel. And he might be I don’t know what he’s doing these days and i’d like to keep it that way. For starters, the Scooge comics, while barely published in the US these days, are still popular globally and have appealed to kids and adults for generations and are mostly focused on him, with the kids in a supporting role and Ducktales, you know the thing your directly remaking here, was also mostly about him with the triplets supporting, if a bit less than the comics. Most of the Disney Afternoon was about adult characters, with any kids in side roles in the main cast. And it comes off entirely hypocritical of them to say this when the MCU is easily marvel’s biggest cash cow at the moment, and marvel properties have appealed to both kids and adults, like the duck comics, for decades. And if it’s because the marvel cartoons weren’t doing well , I’ll let you in on a little secret: Those didn’t do well because they looked bland and from what I’ve seen of them felt kind of bland, though I haven’t seen enough to fully judge. Kids LIKE adult characters as much as kid characters, and also like teen characters despite not being teens. Focusing on either is valid and while I LIKED Disney’s youth starring shows I also want another X-Men cartoon before I turn 50, and I bet kids would like that too, with the last one only failing because you bailed on it because you were throwing a hissy fit over fox having the movie rights, and do not get me started on that. Point is this argument is horse shit and should stay in the stables. 

So yeah I do think this episode came too soon and it’s placement effected it at the time and as such it dosen’t have the best rep with the fandom aside from the Lena bits and that includes me. The fact it was very early in the series and the characterizations hadn’t yet sunk in really hurt this episode in places but is it really that bad? Join me under the cut to find out

We open at the movies! Which scrooge apparently hasn’t been too since the 1930′s or seen any on video despite Della existing and being really stubborn. 

A rant for another episode. But the kids just got out of a Mole Monster movie, along with Lena, Beakly and Launchpad. Their reactions are as follows: Lena, Webby and Dewey really enjoyed it, Huey found it unrealistic... says the boy whose uncle fought a dragon made of gold a month or two back but we’ll get to that, and Louie was bored and felt it didn’t have enough of the ultra violence, kids these days it’s not about the gore it’s about the tension. And Beakly.. is just pissed Lena tricked them into seeing this and said it was educational. And the more I think about it the more this sounds like BEAKLYS fault than Lena’s. BEAKLY is the one who likely bought the tickets, who saw it was likely an r or pg-13 and who as we’ve seen HAS A PHONE, and ulnike scrooge probably isn’t so stingy she wouldn’t spring for a smart phone, so she could’ve just googled it, or whatever bird related pun is in this version.. gandered it.. yeah let’s go with that, gandered it, and SEEEN it wasn’t appropriate or walked htem out of the theater and ate the cost if she was that bothered by it. Sitting through a Horror Movie you didn’t research, didn’t pull the kids out of and dind’t bother to even check the poster for or use basic common sense is YOUR fault. And this could’ve worked fine, had Lena talk the kids into begging for it or had launchpad take them and have Beakly find out after, having driven to pick them up as she didn’t trust launchpad to take them home. Instead it makes the former super spy look REALLY stupid and feels really out of character for a SPY to not to do research. And it wasn’t like they decided on this later, Bentina being a spy was part of the character’s backstory from day one and its made clear as early as episode 2 in both airing orders. This is just lazy writing to justify the episode and I expect better from this crew. 

But an argument errupts between Huey and Webby over the Terra-Firmians, a hidden race of rock people living in Duckburg’s discontinued sewer system, allegedlys. So Lena suggest simply going down which gets a disapproving look from Beakly, despite you know this being their bread and butter, and the fact that if she had a problem with Scrooge not being involved.. she could just call him. Exploring fabled rock people is something he’d be into. I mean there’s a low profit margin but it also costs him almost nothing to walk to the theater or have launchpad swing around and pick him up. Just gas which given how much he pays for jet fuel isn’t a big ask. But Beakly soon gets distracted by Launchpad whose convinced the film is real and is attacking the poster a grim sign of things to come as while Beakly annoyed me in this one on rewatch, especially after realizing the above... Launchpad annoyed me both times and for VERY good reason we’ll get into. This provides a distraction and allows the trio to escape. Cue titles. 

After the title sequence, our heroes head deeper underground, there’s too much panic in this town... I mean props to Donald for trying something new but he really needs to rethink his cologne choices. Sex Panther is just.. not a good smell on.. anyone. 

So our heroes journey through the depths of the subway system, and we find out part of why Huey’s so skeptical, as he finds anything that isn’t in the Junior Woodchuck Guidebook to not exist, though the cracks in this already show as he’s added anything that does. We’ll get back to this later but as you can tell the basic dynamic for 24 minutes is Webby being a wholehearted True Believer and Huey being a Skeptical Sally. And Lena is just sorta “Eh gives me an excuse for shenanigans” about it. We also get a peak into webby’s mind as we see her notes .. which really just come off as Terra-Firmian fanfiction involving a war of succession between two sides, the terra’s and the firmies, something based on previous media, and also some doodles of a fictional candy called webby-dings and herself as a superhero, both things I want to see. 

But yeah the first third of the episode is pretty simple, just them journeying, the occasional shift in the firmament, and it’s not bad, and there are a few great bits: Huey nerds out about rocks, and finds them way more interesting than a possible rock monster.

Which leads to the best gag of the episode as when Huey tries to pick up a big sample Webby, annoyed at his hyperfixation on the JWG, asks him to ask his book for help.. which he does by reading it and actually manages to pick the large rock up. This is halted though when Lena screams.. though she really just did it to draw them to an abandoned subway car full of glomgold posters for glomgold products because of course a failed subway project has his name plastered over it. You can’t spell glomgold without failure.. the failure is silent. Glomgold is not. 

The fun is interuptted though by a livid Beakly who had realized they were missing in an earlier scene, after telling the Manager that McDuck Industries would pay for the poster.. and then found out Launchpad also destroyed the toilets “They come up thorugh the sewers!”. Launchpad that’s CHUDS, Ninja Turtles and Rats who raised Ninja Turtles like their own sons, mole people dig or use old mineshafts. It’s basic mole science. Also Beakly really shouldn’t sweat it, I just assumed the city has had a runnig bill witht he company for “McDuck Family and Employee Related Accidents, Mayhem and Shenanigans”. I mean he’s had Gyro on his payroll for at least a decade and a half by the series start, Gyro has leveled whole sections of city in an afternoon more than most giant monsters. Of which several have destroyed Duckburg. It got better. 

Point is she’s livid about them sneaking off with Lena pointing out their some sort of adventure family and Beakly.. saying she won’t see them again, or at least implying it hard. I’ll put a pin in this, as the train buckles and a bit of seismic, or rock men, activity means their stuck. So they divide into teams: Beakly will go try and unhook the train car from the busted cars so they can ride out, Launchpad will go try and fix it, and we get this lovely exxchange as a result

Launchpad: Cool never crashed a train before Beakly: Can’t you try driving it without crashing it? Launchpad: Wha? 

His face in that scene is priceless. He takes Dewey along. More on that in a second. Webby, Huey and Louie are told to stay put with Beakly only bringing Lena along because she dosen’t trust her. So since we have three split plots for a second... let’s split up gang, starting with the most aggrivating, middling with what you all came here for and why this is part of the retrsopective, and ending with the plot that directly heads into the final part of the episode. 

Launchpad and Dewey: GAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

Okay starting with the most infamous plot and easily the worst part of this episode, probably the worst plot in any Ducktales 2017 episode. That’s not hyperbole it’s really that bad and really pissed people off, as fans of the original launchpad felt they made him overly stupid. This is where the airing order’s a problem as putting an episode with a subplot where one of your characters is obnoxiously dumb right up front means they assume this is his charcter and not just one poorly written chapter in a very dumb but very loveable characters life, likely because the writers hadn’t figured out how to properly scale his stupidity with comptience. 

So as a result we get a good 3-4 mintutes if not agonizingly more of Launchpad assuming something he saw in a fucking movie film was real. That.. that’s his actual plot. Need I remind you, he’s in his late 20′s early 30′s. He’s not much older than me. While other episodes have him as dim this one claims he CAN’T TELL FACT FROM FICTION. 

There are lines you have to keep with your characters to keep the audience from hating them. They crossed it about 80 times with this plot and make Launchpad into a gibbering dunderhead who can’t do anything right versus a regular dunderhead whose good at one or two things and loveable enough for us to like him and not care about his numerous safey violations and child endagerment charges. Thankfully this is the ONLY episode that gets this bad and they clearly learned from this, but it dosen’t make it any less of a tough sit. 

Dewey spends most of the subplot with a look on his face that just screams that he’s as done with this bullshit as we are, as Launchpad assumes he’s a mole person and brought along a pipe to presumibly bludgeon him, because wanting to cave his best friends skull in over stupidity is a GREAT look> Thankfuly he does not. And when the lights come back on Launchpad.. assumes he’s a monster because of bright light, GAH, and locks him out before they end up outside and the plto resolves itself by Dewey pointing out by Launchpad’s utterly baffling logic that he could be a mole monster, so Launchpad.. assumes he is. 

The subplot’s later buttoned up as he claims “I love being a mole monster”, again diffrent subteranian creature launchpad, she says he’s not and my suffering is thankfully at an end. This plot just sucks, it’s bad, overly stupid and dosen’t work with an adult character. Someone like say Ed from Ed, Edd N Eddy, or someone who belivies in weird conspiracy stuff like Dale Gribble or Stan Pines. with either of them this plot would’ve been fucking great. I could buy it from Dale and it just comes off as his normal paranoid weirdness. With Launchpad it comes off like he seriously needs help because the episode frames it as if he can’t tell ficton from reality, and his splotlight episode later would directly contridct this and make this episode even more aggrivating, as he’s a fan of Darkwing Duck, and KNOWS it’s acted out by an actor, so why wouldn’t he get this? It’s just....

It sucks, it sucks and I thankfully get to move on to a better subplot

Beakly and Lena: What You Are in the Dark

Beakly tells Lena she’ll never see Webby again after this.. then chastises her when she won’t help despite you know having just said she’s going to force their friendship apart, which Lena points out. She then gets mad at Lena making a sarcastic comment at her. Okay she’s lived with Louie for at least a week in airing order and a month or two in actual order. She has to be used to this by now. She’s insolent.. because you show her no respect, blame her for something that while sure she talked you into, you should’ve known better, and top it off by saying you want to keep her from the kids because they have bright futures and come from good familes and asks who rasied her and her face.. well.

Yeah wheras Launchpad and Huey, more on that in a second, were hurt by this being some of their earliest big roles, Bentina wasn’t.. until later when we found out just HOW bad Magica is to Lena and how much she dosen’t care about her other than as a tool to use. At this point we didn’t know just how much Lena was playing webby, how much she was only manipulating her, and even with her heroic act here we didn’t know if she only saw Webby as her way to break free. The next episode makes it clear she dosen’t and genuinely does care, 100%, so in hindsight it makes Bentina come off as ghoulsih for horribly asssuming about a girl she dosen’t know, and even if she did know about Magica wouldn’t know the full story, just like us, and then BERATING her after already saying she’s going to rip her away from Webby, which itself is PRETTY bad as she’s the only friend the girl has and sh’es doing so on... talking them into a horror movie, which as I outlined was more Bentina’s fault than Lena’s, and leading the kids into a dangerous place whicha gain, Lena pointed out is something she lets Scrooge do. And trust me i know that she actually knows Scrooge, and we later find out, as we’ll cover next month, that she isn’t ware HOW dangerous things are with Scrooge. It dosen’t change the fact she knows they do dangerous stuff to a point and that Lena may just be acting out. It also dosen’t change the fact she drove three children, yes including launchpad, down here with her instead of sending them home with Launchpad.. granted that option isn’t the safest but it’s safer than taking her with them thena cting like it’s ALL lena’s fault when three of the children, again including launchpad, are down there because of HER. Not Lena, HER. I’m harder on her because she’s older, wiser and was “raised properly” apparently. Though given the way she treats a random teen off the street she again knows nothing about and dind’t bother to ask... it begs the question. 

IT’s a good question. I could see the classism coming from being raised in 40′s and 50′s britain, judging by the timeline.. but even then she’s seen the world, and while her nature is supscious, the classit bullshit makes no sense after presumibly working with, and later spymastering for, various agents of various backgrounds. How has she not dropped this in decades. Scrooge very clearly dropped the racisim and homophobia of his time, so it still stands  on her for not dropping this. And Lena’s hurt shows under hte mask for the first time, that beneath the snark and secrecy.. is just an abused teenager with nowhere else to go and no way out being bullied by an older woman whose cutting off the only light at the end of the tunnel nto for good reason but out of classist, overprotective mallice.  My issues, which to be fair probably were intentional in the episode but sitll are a bit overblown, aside we do get an absoluttley tremendous moment later as a car falls on top of Beakly.. and Magica, speaking once more urges Lena to leave her, let her die and let their plans progress. And while that iself is.. dumb, what if someone finds her or her corpse later, especially since Scrooge would likely perosnally want to retrive the body to give her a proper burial as she’s his only friend at this point, or the rest of the family questoin the story?, it fits Magica’s lack of foresight we see throughout the season. But Lena... saves her. While she later gives an explination, and a valid one at that, it’s clear from her expressoin, her actoins and how she does it... that this is her. Part of it is defiance, as she glares at Magica before doing it, her own stubborn nature mixed with her hatred of her “aunt”, meaning Magica just made it all too easy for her to do this. But the real reason is clear: It’s the right thing to do. While pissing off her aunt and getting away with it is the cherry on top.. the real reason is that unlike Magica.. Lena is not a killer, not a monster, and not a heartless vacum ofa person. Even if she doesn’t like Beakly, for good reason.. she can’t, she WON’T leave her to die and leave Webby an orphan again. She loves Webby too much to do that to her and while she may deny it.. she’s too good a person to leave someone to die for something so petty. Even if she never sees webby again and the plans ruined. It’s better than the weight of knowing she let someone who wasn’t trying to harm her and whose actions, while terrible, were out of misguided protection of her granddaughter, die like this. She saves her. And as we’ll see it pays off.. but before that. 

Huey, Webby and Louie: Into the Unknown This plot’s a bit shorter, as Webby and Huey continue their argument, with Louie eventually making it clear, and not even hiding it when directly asked by Huey, that he’s playing both sides with a delighted expression on his face as the movie was boring but this, this is interesting. Which it is. But it’s interupted by dings on the roof and while Huey assumes i’ts just a regular rock, it moves while their not lookiung.. and soon red eyed, horrifying beasts look out at them and the kids flee back to the car. This dosen’t pan out as the car starts to shake and is clearly going to collapse.. and while Webby and Louie are prepared to flee, rock monsters or no, Huey, in an utterly heart shattering image.. stays in place, terrified of moving. 

This is where this plot goes from mildly aggrivating, as Huey’s Skeptic shenanigans can get on the nerves.. to BRILLIANT. See at the time this was more annoying because it was assumed the skepticsim would be a part of Huey’s character and we’d get more episodes of him being annoying only to be proven wrong, as he semeingly dosen’t learn his lesson at this point, looging the terrafrimians in the guide book. But on rewatch.. this plot is amazing.  For starters the plot subtly introduced the defening characteristic of Huey’s personality, one that’s become more prounounced in Season 3: His need for Order. He needs things to make sense: He solves stuff because he likes there to be order in the world and something he can understand, he can put in a box in his head. Like a lot of neurotypical people, myself included, he struggles horribly when the clearly defined boxes of his life and things he undestand have wrinkles or complexities he can’t get. I for instnace easily got it when I was introduced to the concept of trans people or being non binary.. they just make sense in hindsight: given how our brains are messya nd complicated it makes sense some people would be born in the wrong ones, and tht with all the science and medicine we have to correct that, should be allowed to transition if they so choose. It makes equal sense that some people just don’t have a gender or are gender fluid, being both or neither. Despite struggling with non binary prounouns due to force of habit.. I get the concept with no real difficulty. But when it comes to accepting I don’t have to apologize for everything and that everyone is not angry or that anger is natural and people sometimes get mad and you can’t and shouldnt’ fix it.. it’s something I STRUGGLE with even knowing it’s not right, because my brain is just wired that way. 

That’s how Huey’s struggle comes off here.. he reveals he’s willing to stay and die.. because he’s SO scared of the unknown, that the idea of dying from something he at least knows what it is versus something he dosen’t.., so paralizyed by his own brain he can’t figure out the obvious.. it takes Webby reaching out to him figuratively and literally, to show him that sometimes you have to face the unknown. The unknown is fucking terrifying.. but it can be good and it’s better than sitting there, scared and unable to move. You have to try, to grow and take that risk that things may not go well to really LIVE. 

So he does.. and they reunite with the rest of the group.. and soon find the terrafirmains.. who as it turns out once we get some light on them... are actually just goofy looking,  brightly colored, each one matching one of the kids, kids themselves, and Huey reaches out and touches one, which by ET logic means their friends now, and the terrafirmians help them get out. And this lesson sticks. While sure Huey catalogues it and it seems it didn’t.. he’s never this skeptical again. This douchey skepticsim was only for one episode, his fear of the uknown replcaed with boundless curosity and from here on he’s CURIOUS about new stuff as long as it’s not trying to kill him. He loves taking in new experinces, maybe not to webby levels but he does actually try them and study them instead of just fearing them. 

Before we wrap things up, obviously we need to talk about the JWG not having entries on a lot of stuff. This would be corrected next season as it returns to being a big book of everything, but dosen’t completely contridct this as Timephoon! shows there’s stillcgaps.. which i’m fine with. While it knowing EVERYTHING was fine for the original series here, with things being slightly more groudned, it’d just be an obvious plothole if Huey didn’t use it every single time they ran into something and that’d get boring. Instead it’s simply that it dosen’t know everything, and really in the comics at times it didn’t and the triplets found out new things. It knew almost everything mind you, but having some gaps for dramatic tnesion is fine with me and Seasons 2 and 3 decided on that instead of just having it being a scouting manual which wa sfor the best. And even by later in the season hit has guides to getting a small buisness loan, so they already course corrected. 

So everything’s wrapped up and while Magica berates Lena for disobeying her.. Beakly interputps, thankfully not seeing magica and admits she was wrong and invites Lena for pancakes, even taking a crack about if their actually pancakes or english muffins with syrup, which sounds like my own living hell, in stride, having clearly grown. And Lena explains to Magica that this was the better approach: now she’s got the in theyw anted, and is above suspcison for now. Still not so much that an obvious act won’t be detected but enough that she dosen’t ahve to work actively around her anymore. Magica scoffs.. and while part of it is probably rage.. part of it is deep down both of them know she did it out of defiance.. and only Lena knows that she did it for the right reasons... she just dosen’t get why. She probably justifies it as playing the long game.. but deep down she knows something’s changing about her.. and she’s not sure if that’s a godo thing or not. 

Final Thoughts: This episode is as you can tell a mixed bag. It’s 2/3 of a good episode, with the Lena plot, my issues aside, being excellent and the Terra-Firmian plot likewise fun, even if Huey can get grating the payoff is worth it, and the jokes are really high quality. It’s just bogged down by that fucking launchpad plot that just crushed my soul in it’s palms every time it came back. I went on at length why i hated that one but boy oh boy was the hate of that subplot warranted and I stand by calling it the worst plot of the series. It is: it’s not funny, it makes no goddamn sense, and it drags down what’s otherwise a pretty solid epsiode.

Next Time on Lena: Jaws the shark, lurking in the dark, in the depths of the bin one day of a lark decides to get rowdy, get real violent takes a vacay out to Duckburg er.. Island.. also Scrooge faces his greatest Nemesis.. a PR Tour to clean up his image after an unfortunate giant Beanstalk Incident. Be there and be hip to be square. 

Next Time on This Blog: I Tackle a DCOM for the first time for another commissioned review as we take a look at racisim, specifically Apartheid and breaking indoctrination, with The Color of Friendship. See you next Rainbow. 

[foreverfangirlalways]

Who Does Virgil Really Like?

Based off this post by  @more-incorect-quotes and this comic by @illogicallyinclined

(Also, a huge thank you to @thefingergunsgirl for some of the plot points!!!)

Summery: After a 20 question game gone wrong, will Virgil be able to tell Logan who his crush really is?

Ships: Analogical, hinted at Dukexiety, hinted at Prinxiety, Moceit

Warning: Misunderstandings, weird flirting, lowkey stalking

-let me know if I need to add more warnings-(I hope you like it! )

—-

It was a relatively calm day in the Mind Palace. Patton is eating cookies, Roman and Logan are working on the final draft of a new song, and Virgil, Remus, and Janus are play 20 questions.

“Janus, how would describe your perfect date?” Virgil asked.

“Well, I definitely wouldn’t take my partner dancing after a nice dinner and then talk a stoll before walking them home.”

Everyone stopped what they were doing and stared at Janus. “What? I’m a liar, not classless.” Janus said while winking at Patton.

Patton blush and accidentally crumbled one of his cookies. Remus laughed. “Alright, my turn before Dadceit and Daddy inspire me to make another fic!” Everyone groaned and rolled their eyes, and Janus gave Patton another cookie.

Remus clapped his hands, then eyed Virgil.

“So Tickle-Me-Emo, tell me, what’s your ideal boy?”

‘Shit! What do I say? I have to say the truth, but I don’t want to make it obvious... oh! I know!’ Virgil thought while chewing on his lips, then he hid a secret smile.

“Oh, he’s creative, knows how to handle weapons, and loves nicknaming.” Everyone acted all almost exactly how they did with Janus’s answer, except Patton wasn’t blushing.

“You just described me! Ha!” Remus yelled, looking gleeful. Janus, who knew the lies that Virgil told himself around a certain tie wearing aspect, just smirked and decided to “play along.”

“Or he could be talking about your brother.”

Virgil fought the urge to get up and go slap Deceit’s smug smirk off of his face. At Deceit’s words and Virgil’s glare, Roman made some dramatic princy noises.

Remus just blanched, not believing that HIS emo could have fallen for his dull brother. He looked at Roman’s delighted face and then at Virgil’s glare. “There is no way he likes that! Remus shouted, pointing to Virgil and then gesturing to all of Roman.

Roman then made some offended princy noises. “HOW DARE-!” Patton silenced Roman by throwing a piece of the popcorn that Janus had just summoned for them to share at him. “Now kiddo, you know the rules, no yelling in the famILY room.”

Virgil took a minute to wonder when Janus had gotten up, sat beside Patton, started cuddling Patton, and summoned popcorn, but he was interrupted by the look on Logan’s face.

He looked mildly interested, but Virgil has known him long enough to know that his feelings are hurt. Is it because Janus is not sharing the popcorn with him or...

Virgil had a realization. “Uhh, on an unrelated note, I have to be, not here.” Virgil gave a two finger salute and then sunk down to his room to freak out.

Both Remus and Roman got up at the same time, noticed that the other had gotten up, and then lunged at eachother. “How dare you think Virgil likes you, you’re just a stinky wannabe Mario!” Roman yelled at the same time Remus shrieked, “Virgil is my bloodsucking vampire bat, hands off!”

While they rolled around on the floor, laying claim on Virgil and insulting eachother, Janus kept Patton from interrupting their fight by kissing him on the check and whispering, “Come on darling, just let them work it out themselves.”

Patton was suddenly a speechless, blushing mess who was just mechanical eating popcorn and avoiding Janus’s teasing gaze.

Logan, who everyone had forgotten about, looked forlorn. He liked Virgil, but clearly it is one sided. He always knew that he never had a chance.

Logan just sighed and started to sink down to his own room, not noticing the knowing, glowing heterochromic eyes that were following his movements, and hearing his deceitful thoughts.

-_-_-_-

Over the following week, Roman and Remus have both tried to woo Virgil, oftentimes resulting in them fighting.

Janus has gone through about 15 bowls of popcorn, 11 of which were shared with a blushing Patton.

Logan has been getting more sad every time he notices one of the twins antics, and has gotten to the point where he almost can’t stand to look at them. He realizes that this is illogical, and who Virgil choses to give his affections to is none of his business, but he still gets jealous, despite himself.

And Virgil... well, Virgil is at his wits end. He’s sick of finding dead rats in his toilet and getting random, blood covered knives from Remus. He’s tired of shooing sing birds away and cutting the heads off of the roses that Roman gives him. Virgil HATES roses.

About 8 days after the whole 20 questions incident, Virgil and Logan were sitting on the couch in the famILY room. Virgil was scrolling threw tumblr and Logan was reading about constellations.

After about 20 minutes of silence, Virgil couldn’t take it anymore. He tossed his phone onto the loveseat, and groaned. When Logan question Virgil about what was wrong, Virgil took a daring move, and laid his head on Logan’s lap. Logan turned faintly red, and just stared at Virgil.

“Hey Lo? Can you give me some advice?” Once Logan nodded tensely, Virgil added, “Its relationship advice.”

Logan felt like crying. ‘Of course he needs relationship advice. He obviously likes Roman, and as his friend I am ok with that and will help him.’

Janus, summoned by Logan’s thoughts, was sitting against the wall with Patton on his lap. They were both eating popcorn, having already done this multiple times this week. They could both clearly see the two on the couch, but neither one seemed to notice the couple watching them. Not even when Janus had to muffle Patton’s squeal with his gloved hand upon Patton realizing Logan and Virgil’s position.

“What seems to be the problem?” Logan asked, trying and failing to keep the hurt out of his voice. Lucky for him, Virgil didn’t notice.

“Well, I have a crush on someone an-“ Virgil was cut off when he felt Logan put a comforting hand on his chest. Virgil looked up, and smiled faintly at a faintly smiling Logan.

“I’ve been trying to tell them for the past few months, but they haven’t seemed to notice at all.”

Logan side-eyed Virgil. ‘Is he serious? I think Roman knows, he gave you a bouquet of roses yesterday. Which is a little pointless, given that you hate roses, but... oh.’ Logan thought, coming to the conclusion that Virgil didn’t realize that Roman likes him back. Janus relayed what he was hearing from Logan thoughts to Patton, and they both rolled their eyes at the two oblivious sides.

“Really?” Logan asked, now full on looking at Virgil. “They don’t sound particularly observant.” Janus had to keep Patton from yelling out “he’s not!”

Virgil just smiled, and decided to try something. “See, that’s the thing. They’re actually really smart. Just...” Virgil took a breath and intertwined his fingers with Logan’s, “dense.”

Logan fought all the butterflies that were raging war in his stomach, and decided to record Virgil admitting his feelings, so that he can just send the recording to Roman and cry.

“Perhaps you just need to take the obvious route. You could try saying a simple...” Logan held back a gag and position his phone more directly over Virgil’s face. “I love you.”

Virgil considered. ‘Could it really be that easy?’ “You think that would work?”

Logan nodded, and put on a near perfect mask of nonchalant. “It’s at least worth a try.”

Virgil looked to the away and nodded. “I... guess you’re right.” Virgil took a deep breath and Logan shakily pressed the record button.

“Hey... Logan...” Virgil said, gripping his hand tighter. “I love you.”

Janus and Patton just stared, leaning forward. Logan blushed, and decided to never delete that recording, ever. “Yeah! Use that exact phrase!” Logan said in false cheerfulness.

“HOLY FUCKING SHIT!” Virgil yelled at the same time Janus and Patton facepalmed.

Logan regrettably let go of Virgil’s hand. “And if that doesn’t work, we can always try a different approach.”

“Oh my God.” Virgil said while covering his face with his hands, trying his hardest not to reach up and shake the denseness out of Logan.

Logan, not seeing Roman and Remus walk in the door way and be freezed and silenced by Janus, continued.

“Don’t worry Virgil, I’ll make sure Roman realizes how much you really like him.” Logan says.

Janus looked dumbfounded. ‘How dumb can Logic be?’

Patton looked disappointed and almost started laughing.

Roman looked triumphant and Remus looked pissed.

Virgil, however, just looked done. He quickly sat up, and turned to face Logan. “Wait, you mean to tell me that you think my crush is on ROMAN?!”

Logan gulped. “Umm yes. Was I wrong in that assumption?”

Virgil just started laughing. He laughed until his laughter turned to tears. Logan immediately became alarmed and took Virgil into his arms.

“Shhh, Virgil, sweetheart, I need you to calm down for me.” That just seemed to make Virgil cry harder so Logan grabbed Virgil hands and squeezed them in a 4-7-8 pattern. Virgil, knowing what Logan is doing, starts to follow the pattern. After about 5 minutes Virgil is calmed down.

“Virgil, can you tell me what is bothering you?” Logan asked gently. Virgil just nodded defeatedly. “You.”

Logan froze, not knowing how to respond to that. Virgil continued. “I have liked you for almost 2 years. I have tried to tell you about my crush for months. I admit, I could have been a bit more obvious in my clues to Remus, but I thought for sure you would know who I was talking about. You are creative when you come up with raps, you threw a computer at Thomas and knowledge is a weapon, and you called Roman a ‘Roman Scenturian.‘

Instead you avoided me for days, didn’t believe me when I said I love you, and think I have a crush on Roman? Can you see wh-“

Logan interrupted Virgil’s rant by kissing him. If he was totally honest, he barely heard a word after Virgil said, “I have liked you...”

The couple sprung apart as soon as they heard cheering. They both stared at Patton, who was sitting in Janus’s lap with popcorn all over and around him, and the biggest smile on his face.

Janus was also smiling, and looked over at Remus and Roman, who were looking fondly at both couples. Janus unfroze them.

“So...” Remus starts, “you like Logan, huh?” Everyone laughs. “That’s fine, I’m gonna go see if the Dragonwitch wants to go on a date.” Remus winked then sunk down, headed towards the imagination.

Virgil then looks at Roman. Roman takes a step forward, and Logan tightens his grip on Virgil. Roman just laughs.

“Don’t worry Lo, I was just wanting to give y’all my blessing! Also, do you think that O will want to go on a quest?”

Virgil giggled and nodded. “Yeah, I think ol’ Orange would love to go ‘rob people legally’ as he put it, with you.” Roman waved and then headed to find O.

The couple on the couch then turned to look at the couple by the wall. Patton looked ecstatic while Janus looked amused. “Well, that certainly didn’t take forever.” Janus said, breaking the silence.

They all just shook their heads, and Patton dragged Janus to the kitchen to start on dinner (and totally not eavesdrop).

Virgil looked at Logan. “So, if I say something do you promise to not be stupid this time?” Virgil asked teasingly. Logan smiled and nodded.

“Logan, I love you.” Logan kissed Virgil and smiled. “Virgil, I would love for you to be my boyfriend.” “I would love that too!” Virgil said before kissing Logan again.

-----

Note: Incase you are wondering, Roman and Remus were just really trying to make Virgil like one of them more than the other, and were actually surprised when Virgil described them and not Logan during the game. They did not just immediately move on after seeing there was not shot. They were coming to tell Virgil that they actually like other ‘people’ but kind of got stopped 😅

Taglist- (I went ahead and did my Analogical Taglist 😅)

@five-falseh00ds-ph0nated

@illogicallyinclined

@more-incorect-quotes

@thefingergunsgirl

@kawaiikat54

@yikesdodson

@sanders-sides-with-quinn

@aleiimm

@peachy-pidge

@nerdycupcake559

@softestvirgil

@dragonwithproblems

@teacupfulofstarshine

@lynxsans

@rainbowemonightmare

@impatentpending

@star-crossed-shipper

@falsehoodx

@007ardra

[adrieunor]

to both eat well (1/?)

Pairing: Din Djarin & Original Mandalorian, Din Djarin/Nice things. (F)Mandalorian Reader (but largely GN in this narrative.)

Rating: T+ (may change in the future) 

Word count: 2.4k 

A non-linear, paint by numbers friendship. Can friendship be slow burn? It can now. A gratuitous excuse to lore build Mandalorian culture, with a side of speculation on Din Djarin’s place within it from the perspective of another Mandalorian.  Narrator is an apprenticed armorer (fool) who ends up making all those whistling birds Din Djarin uses (in excess, she’d argue.) 

Completely disregards S2, and picks and chooses what it wants from canon lore. I strongly think Din Djarin needs a friend who will look at his crusty, bachelor life style and go, “bitch, you live like this??”

Does revolve around a faith (The Way), what would constitute cultural practices for a fictional group, and food-- so if food-talk is not your thing, I won’t mind if you skip this one. No beta, because fuck man, just take it. 

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

The beroya has a name. You know it, that knowledge floats somewhere in the back of your mind, as light and as useful to you as dust and fine spiderwebs. His name holds little distinction, as memorable as the names of the rats the foundlings catch and train for pets; the same level of import to you, which is to say: very little. 

Vizsla speaks it, more than once. But you always remember Vizsla’s cadence more than his words. The barely hidden sneer in his voice. 

There are many who consider Vizsla too rough, his bulk as intimidating as his temper. 

Succinctly: an asshole. 

Which, to be fair, you don’t deny. But you also think he’s just got a lot of –ness to him, with no place for it to go down below in the tunnels. A heavy infantry like Vizsla is meant to win wars, but there are no wars to be won and the tunnels only stretch so far for his presence. 

You understand, at least in part; if you were displaced outside your forge, tossed above ground where the expanse is simply unending, you’d be an asshole too. 

A tunnel baby like you has no place above ground, leave it for the infantry like Paz Vizsla or the hunters, like—

Well. Anyway. 

So you like that about Paz Vizsla, for all his –ness it’s the right kind of stuff; his intentions are in the right place, most of the time, even if his words are as blunt as his fists. 

Which might be why you end up, out of all the mando in the tribe, to sit beside him at meal times. 

Which also means you end up, out of all the mando in the tribe, to listen to him gripe.

Paz does not suffer in silence, he’d sooner let someone else suffer the brunt of his frustrations. The tribe has learned to let it be you, as Paz would only dare to raise a hand at one of the few individuals who knows how to service his armor.

He speaks it again, spoken lowly in the gathering hall, his helm ducking in deference to the old matron who serves tonight. You know better than to hold the line up, serving Vizsla a generous helping, two and a half ladles, before passing the ladle to him.

“A quarter,” you say, and he hesitates—“I’ll get more after this.”

That’s enough that he obliges. The ladle’s handle is so small, dainty, in his hand as he scrapes its lip against the rim of your bowl to catch the drips before returning it to the pot. You eye it for a moment—it was good enough, but it could be better.

(A tribe the size of yours hardly needs two blacksmiths at once in the forge; you wouldn’t dare voice it to your teacher, but you’re growing bored.)

You finish your thanks first and, before he’s lifted his head from his own, you’ve already placed the small bowl of red flakes by his hand. Vizsla grunts, rapping his knuckles against the table—my thanks to your consideration.  

You tilt to your right, letting your helm brush against his arm—you’re welcome—before your hands move to lift it from your head. The soft release of a valve and Vizsla’s buy’ce settles besides yours on the table.

The beroya had come that day, dropping off another fistful of meager credits to Teacher. Paz, because he was Paz, had shouldered into him in the entryway to the forge. Words had been exchanged, blades had been brandied, and your Teacher had, once again, interrupted another fight between two grown men.

And now Paz was taking it out on his food, which, by its glaring color, had already seen a generous fistful of spice in the kitchens.

“You don’t like him.” It’s not meant to be more than a passing comment, your thoughts more tangled with the fragrant, savory grains before you, but you’ve gone and poked the bantha—sigh.

Who had cooked today? Vox? Roe? Either mando always took to heart heat when it was their turn. Too far, maybe, but you’d be teased mercilessly if you voiced this. It’s been years since you ate from the children’s pot.

(You spare a thought for the considerably lighter, fragrant stew that had bubbled next to the adult’s. It had looked good. You like a savory, sweet porridge, but you like preserving your pride more.)

Your fork scrapes against the wooden plate. Could you sneak another drink, or would it be too telling?

“He is arrogant,” your vod grouses. “He’s been on the surface too long and thinks himself above the rest of us.”

The bite of his words is lessened by his sniffles. You pass your cloth to him, and he blows into it messily. You won’t be asking for that one back.

“A mando who will not sit to sha’kajir does not consider us tribe.”

Speak of ill tidings and they will arrive. No, you amend, that’s not very fair, is it?

The beroya enters the room and, like hands clasping over little ears, the voices of the hall lessen to a murmur. If he cares, he doesn’t show it, not in the tilt of his buy’ce or the set of his shoulders.

He walks a straight path towards the simmering pots over the fire; no one gestures to him in greeting and he makes none. He serves himself, bypassing the Matron who had stood to regard him. A single ladle of hot grains, a comically small portion compared to your companion’s own serving.

He turns. No one moves to offer him seating, though there’s plenty.

The beroya strides out, his cape flutters before he disappears around the doorway. Not once had his unadorned helmet bothered to look left or right.

A beat passes before the hall returns to its rumbling conversations. You fold your hands into your lap, meal forgotten, as your eyes slide from the empty doorway back to your plate of yellow and orange.

“Is it arrogance? Or devotion?”

Vizsla breathes in sharply. You’re not sure in response to your question or to clear his sinuses.

You press on, fingertips to fingertips as you speak to your plate, “Is it not our Creed? Perhaps he holds what is sacred only to an audience of himself.”

Even from your own mouth, you find it a lonely notion.

You’ve heard outsiders think that never means never—but, then, how would you eat?

What stronger way for warriors to grow closer, outside of battle, than this? Your weapons forged in fire, the food that fills your belly warmed by the same flame.

How could one build and solder and mend bonds if not through the intimacy of eating well? Bare one’s proverbial neck and trust that your company would protect you at your vulnerable, commune with you to eat and be strong?

Sha’kajir is trust, is sacred no matter how plain the fare. To eat with your tribe is to be loved and protected, and to love and protect in turn.

Thank you for attending to my needs, thank you for letting me grow strong in your company.

You probe, cautiously, “What does it mean for a mando to eat in private—where the only time he can remove his helmet in the company of others, he abstains?" You break decorum, plain words sound best now, when you wish to speak plain truths: “Isn’t it… isn’t it lonely, don’t you think?”

(Who does he thank if alone? Who lets him grow strong, if only just him?)

“Then he thinks his own company better than his kin,” Paz decides, pushing his plate away.

You turn your head, and you don’t need a mirror or a visor to know your own expression is pitying; the love you hold for the Way is made from the same sinews and muscles that love your people—your eyes, no doubt large and dark the way Paz despises, go to his jaw, his ear. The intimacy of looking into his eyes—the thought of it alone!—you wouldn’t dare in such a communal space.

“You don’t believe that.”

“I do.”

You watch the ear twitch as the jaw clenches and your eyes slide away, downwards.

The beroya walks an adherence to the Creed stricter than even your own leader, adherence unheard of to the point of isolating—alienating, ostracizing. It scratches at your thoughts in a way your vod are unwilling to address (how strange for normally direct people!).

“What should make him sacred only makes him more profane in your eyes, then.” Your stomach turns, the food does not agree with you. And you’re not sure you agree with your own thoughts.

Your rumination is broken by a snort, Paz folding his own large hands in front of his empty plate. “You sound like your buir.”

You recognize it for what it is: conceding. Your friend will not push this with you, not when you’ve barely touched your food. Your hand comes to hover over your forgotten spoon, and you murmur the words that always come when nothing else is enough. “This is the Way.”

“Eat,” Paz says, nudging you, “Eat and be well, vod.”

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

Paz Vizsla is gone now.

Away, somewhere. To the winds—if he lives.

If he’s gone—no, you squash the thought before it continues. You did not see his helmet among the piles, no sight of a dark blue cuirass fallen by the wayside of the tunnels.

He would not like you so unsure.

You need to be strong.

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

Teacher grasps the back of your helmet, bringing your foreheads together in a bruising clunk. 

“Ad’ika,” she says, and she hardly gives time for you to suck in the shuddering, wet and wretched gasp that tears from your throat, “Go, go with him.” 

This isn’t your teacher, nor your armorer. This is buir—her voice as familiar as hammer to anvil, for all that it wrecks your heart into a mangled heap now. 

“No, no, no.” You shake your head, scraping temple to temple, beskar to beskar, but you do not break her grip. You cannot, for how tightly her leathered hands grasp your helm. “I will not leave you—I’m not finished—” 

“Ad’ika, you are mine—”

There’s a ringing in your ears and someone is crying, like a lost foundling. Like a child. It might be you. It can’t be. You haven’t been a child in so long now. Not since your first blade, your first kit-- you’re spiraling.  

You cannot hear all that she is saying over your own protests. 

“—made you in my image, and you will not end here.” Buir snarls, fisting the thick weave covering your shoulder, “You will listen to me, I command it.” 

“I don’t want to go-”

“I unname you.” 

Three words so cleanly severing you at the neck, you nearly buckle to the ground if not for her hold. 

Buir breathes, one great breath of calamity and resolution. 

“I release you. Your hammer your own. Your fire your own.”

She taps her helmet once more to yours, gentle despite her fierce grip, before her fingers loosen. 

“Leave me.” 

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

You climb into the boat, limbs stiff and spirit shaken. Shock. You must be in shock. Nothing else can describe surely the ice that’s settled into your stomach. Your beskar has never felt cold before, not once, not ever. 

It freezes you now, despite the heat that surrounds you. 

Your mastery should have been spectacle, celebrated by your covert. 

Your severing – your exile – should have been private, the end of your bond held in silence. 

Instead, it was witnessed by outsiders, who awkwardly shuffle and part way for you. Ignorant to what they’ve witnessed, blind to the turmoil that nearly burns you inside your own armor. 

Din Djarin will not look at you. 

The only thing that stops you from jumping into the lava is the dishonor it’d bring to your beskar. 

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

Later, later, later: 

He only asks, once. When it’s just you and him, awake. The foundling, asleep. Turning in his seat, he looks at you for the first time. 

You don’t think you’ve ever been held in his attention, not once, not ever. His fingers flex, like they’d rather hold a blade or a blaster than whatever conversation he’s ramping up to speak. 

“Do you want to talk about it?” 

“With you?” 

The unembellished helm tips forward. 

You turn your head. “No.” 

He doesn’t ask again. You stand from your seat and go down below. 

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

You don’t remember what you do. 

It’s only with a jolt that you find yourself staring at an open panel, plainly marked boxes of rations stacked neatly side by side. Wherever your spirit had gone, its dumped itself back into your armor. 

The Razor Crest moves underneath your feet. It must be subtle, but for someone who has lived their entire life below in the tunnels, it’s jarring enough that you feel unsteady. You bite your cheek and brace yourself, this will not be what breaks you.

There’s no way to tell the passing of time on the ship, but your helmet’s display tells you hours have passed since your narrow escape. 

You should feel hunger, feel something, but you’re hollowed out and only routine keeps you climbing up the ladder to the beroya—Din Djarin.

The foundling coos at the sight of you, but his father shows no other sign than the tapping of his fingers against the ship’s controls.

“We need to eat.”

Seconds pass and you think he’s choosing to ignore you, before his voice breaks the silence. “There’s food below.”

“Yes,” you say, tilting you head, “I found it. Will you… Will you share food with me?”

The words sound awkward, stilted out of your mouth.

“Take what you need.” Djarin lifts a hand, a wave, and you press your lips tightly together—you’ve never…you’ve never had to ask before, like this.

“You misunderstand.” Your fingers curl into your palms, but you will not clench them, despite the roiling in your stomach. Hunger or nerves, you’re lightheaded. “Will you sit and eat well with me, vod?”

Djarin stills in his movements, as if he was not already so still before. You imagine it has been a very long time since anyone has called him so familiarly, not with the wide berth he is given below. He turns, slowly, and regards you.

You don’t know him well enough to read him; you can’t decipher what the tilt of his helm means, or the way his fingers flex before he looks somewhere to your left.

“I’ll… I’ll eat later.”

Oh.

Your stomach twists, painfully, but your mouth is dry as ashes. Okay.

Any longer in this shared space, in your humiliation, and you might fold—and you are not brittle, you are not made of weaker metals.

You turn, dismissed.

No murmuring conversation. No crackling flame. No gentle hiss of helmets being placed respectfully side by side. Just the one, just your own, set beside you.

Sitting on the floor with your legs crossed, in the hull of the ship—the belly of a beast that takes you farther and farther away from all you’ve ever known—you are, for the first time in your life, alone. 

Fingertips to your lips, you close your eyes. If your eyes prickle, sting, you can pretend it’s from the spices you’re imagining.

When you open your eyes, vision only a little blurry, the meal is still the same. The reconstituted food is plain, the portion meager and colorless. You think of the mandalorian in the upper deck, and you recognize, now, the hesitancy in his voice at the offer you’d extended.

Din Djarin who has, to your knowledge, never taken his helmet off—eating alone, being alone, surrounded by a community but still singular. Still solitary.

Still strong, in spite of it all.

Lonely, but devout. Profane, but still Mandalorian.

(Firm in his hold to protect a foundling, but unsure of whether he trusts you, when you call him kin.)

You can respect that spirit, even if you don’t fully understand.You must, if you want to live. 

Above in the cockpit, you know he can’t hear you--let alone your thoughts.

You thank him, anyway, and eat.

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

Notes: Likeeee...I just don’ttt buy that a terribly tight, secretive community of people who consider being warriors and caring for your clan a core tenant wouldn’t eat together. I think there’s SO MUCH TO UNPACK FROM s1 Mandalorian culture glimpses we get that go totally unexplored in s2. I also fucking love the parallels between jedi and mandalorian, who TALK FUNNY (FORMALLY) and have their OWN mysticism whether they wanna admit it or not. The ARMORER? RIDICULOUSLY cool character that goes unexplored. My solution? Here’s a fanatical apprentice mandalorian who loves nothing but beskar, beskar, and the work. 

I don’t think a ship is gonna work out here. I genuinely think my little beskar goblin is too obsessed with her forge and, now, the wellbeing of the only other clan mate she has to even consider bumping uglies with anyone. She is...a workaholic and obsessed with her calling. Songbird will shake herself out of stupor soon enough to curse Djarin for his negligent maintenance of his most important weapon-- his body! 

So yeah, come talk to me about my own headcanons for why Din doesn’t remove his helmet among his own kin, when they likely do among themselves. If this has piqued your interests at all, let me knowww and I’ll add you to the tags. 

[thepurplebutterflythings]

Kitty Cat & Tweety Bird (Part 16) - Jason Todd

Gif: Dxnninja on Tenor

Word Count: 2.1K

Paring: Jason Todd (Titans) x (f)Reader

Summary: Jason and Y/N spend some quality time together while Dick third wheels. Y/N meets the board of Wayne Enterprises.

Warnings: N/A

A/N: This is a little series I am doing about Jason Todd in Titans. I don’t know Comic!Jason very well so I’m taking all of this from the show, and at the moment he hasn’t been in very often, so please forgive any mischaracterisations.

Tagging: @bella-0104-123 @ninergirl1d @httpfandxms @rosybrock @attackonnat @reclusive-chicken-nugget   @demoiselle-en-detresse00 @young-psychos @thesleepykaijuu @thescottpack @nightlygiggles @rougestorms @sinon36​ @acvrosstheuniverse @friedchickening​ @chillybabe

________________________________________________________________

There was zero chance for Jason and Y/N to sneak away as they jumped over the roof tops of Gotham with Dick overseeing them. He loitered behind them the entire time, watching them with an eagle eye, never giving them a chance to escape and enjoy themselves.

‘We can’t get five minutes to ourselves,’ Y/N sighed as her and Jason dawdled over the rooftops, Dick lingering behind them just enough so they could talk privately but close enough that they couldn’t ditch him.

‘Yeah, sorry about him,’ Jason smiled sympathetically to Y/N, his mask covering his cheekbones but highlighting his eyes. ‘If I knew he was so close then I would’ve been quieter.’

‘Not your fault,’ Y/N assured Jason, ‘as he said – he’s technically my brother now. Aren’t big brothers supposed to be, like, giant pains in the ass?’

‘You’d prefer a little brother?’ Jason chuckled. ‘Aren’t they like… little demons or something?’

‘I don’t know – I’ve been an only child all my life now I’ve got a new dad and a brother along with that,’ Y/N shrugged as she waited for Jason to climb over a roof that she had already conquered, ‘it’s a totally new life. I’ve got to adjust to it all, I guess.’ Y/N smiled tightly as Jason landed on his feet next to her. ‘It’s been months though, since I learned who my dad was, and since I met Dick, I thought I’d be used to this by now.’

‘Come on,’ Jason said, ‘you can’t really expect to just walk into a new life and not be affected by the change, Kitty Cat. You’re only human.’

‘But I’m more than ‘only human’, aren’t I?’ Y/N groaned and leaned her head against the bricks, ‘I’m Batman’s daughter, I’m Catwoman’s daughter. I was raised by Poison Ivy and Harley Quinn. For fuck sake, I pet-sit Hyenas on my Saturday nights.’

‘That doesn’t mean you’re unshakable,’ Jason said, placing his hands on her waist and resting his forehead against hers. ‘You have every right to feel overwhelmed and not know how to adjust or know what to do – everyone feels like that, regardless of background, of who they are. It’s human.’

‘I know,’ Y/N nodded and spoke quietly, ‘but I’ve never felt this overwhelmed by life before. Becoming Lynx was easy, coming to terms with Mum being a criminal was easy, knowing who Auntie Ivy and Auntie Harley were was easy, fighting the Joker was easy – this is so unknown to me.’

‘Well,’ Jason kissed the end of her nose gently, ‘I’ll help you through it. I’ll hold your hand the whole time.’

‘Hey, you love birds alright?’ Dick asked appearing behind them.

‘Yeah, yeah,’ Y/N nodded, ‘just talking, appreciating the distance from the paps.’

‘Yeah, they’re a pain,’ Dick smiled awkwardly, ‘after I moved out of the manor, they left me alone, but before that, they were utter hell!’

‘So, in your professional opinion,’ Jason began, ‘when will they leave us all alone?’

‘Honestly?’ Dick frowned, ‘not till they get what they want.’

‘And what do they want?’ Jason asked.

‘They want me, don’t they?’ Y/N mumbled, ‘to know me?’

‘Pretty much,’ Dick nodded, ‘they’re vultures, and they’ll keep circling. If they don’t get the information through us, as a family, they’ll get it somewhere else, a less legit source, and then that’s the public’s opinion of you.’

________________________________________________________________

For the first time since her formal announcement to the public, Y/N Kyle-Wayne was back inside the building of Wayne Enterprises, not as an intern, nor as Bruce Wayne’s assistant or Jason Todd’s girlfriend, but as the future CEO of the company. To say it was overwhelming was an understatement. Shaking from head to toe, Y/N gulped as she was led by Bruce towards the board room, filled with board members who were eager to tear her apart and prove she had no right to the Wayne Fortune or Business. Stopping in the middle of the hallway, Y/N pressed her hands against the wall to brace herself. Bruce and Dick stopped and watched before Bruce approached his daughter.

‘You alright?’ Bruce asked softly as he rubbed her back.

‘Nervous,’ she confessed.

‘We don’t have to do this today,’ Bruce said in a comforting voice, ‘we can call the whole thing off.’

‘No, no,’ Y/N shook her head, standing up straight, ‘let’s do it. Rip the bandage off.’

‘We’ll be right there with you,’ Dick assured his sister.

‘I know,’ Y/N nodded, giving a hesitant smile before the trio continued towards the board room.

‘Ready?’ Bruce asked, placing his hand on the handle.

‘Let’s go,’ Y/N said as Bruce opened the door. The three walked into the boardroom. A long wooden table took up most of the space with elegant office chairs blocking any and all free space. Every single one of those chairs were filled with members of the board of Wayne Enterprises. All were old, miserable men who stared Y/N down the moment she walked in. Seeing the large, ceiling to floor windows that overlooked the Gotham skyline, Y/N felt at ease, sighing in relief before meeting the shark eyes of the board members.

‘Mr Wayne,’ one of the men said standing up, ‘Mr Grayson.’

Y/N noticed how he didn’t acknowledge her, but rather her father and Dick, and looking at the other two, they noticed it as well. Dick coughed and folded his arms.

‘What? My sister isn’t good enough to be greeted like a human being?’ Dick spoke up.

‘No, no,’ Y/N turned to Dick, ‘I’m sure the man had a perfectly good reason for being unbearably rude to the future CEO of Wayne Enterprises, right, sir?’

The old man merely quirked his lip and met the gaze of the young Wayne, almost amused.

‘Well, young lady, you must understand how your position in the Wayne Line is obviously up for debate, and anyway, you are far too young and… delicate to take the position of CEO. CEO’s need to be strong and respectable.’

‘Dude,’ Dick chuckled, ‘she served my ass to me the first time we met – she’s stronger and more respectable than all of you lot put together.’’

‘He’s saying I can’t run a company because I’m female,’ Y/N said, ‘right? Along with questioning whether I am a Wayne.’

‘Well, what name did you go by for most of your life? It was that Street Rat Girl Mr Wayne fawned over in childhood, correct? Kyle?’

‘Selina is her mother, yes,’ Bruce said, ‘and her father is indeed I. You can see the DNA test results that we have. Obviously, I was prepared for those who would doubt the truth that was right in front of you. Can’t you see the Wayne in her?’

‘Mr Wayne, you surely cannot expect this… girl to lead the company after you leave.’

‘I can and I will.’

‘And I have a name,’ Y/N snapped, ‘if any of my future employees would care to know.’

‘My son would make a far superior CEO than this girl.’

‘Again, I’ve got a name.’

‘Just meet with him.

‘Oh, I’ve met your son, O’Connor,’ Bruce scoffed, ‘the one doing lines of cocaine in the bathroom at the Gala, yes? Utterly unfit and, currently, being arrested by GCPD for possession and use of drugs.’

Y/N placed a firm hand on O’Connor’s upper arm.

‘O’Connor – is it?’

‘Greggory O’Connor,’ the man said.

‘Well, Greg, mind if I call you Greg?’ Y/N said, not giving him a chance to answer before carrying on, ‘why don’t you take a seat and listen for a change rather than shove your nose where it doesn’t belong, especially when you’re as misogynistic as you have been towards me, who is, I will remind you yet again, is your future boss. And you still haven’t asked me my name.’

‘What is your name, Miss Wayne?’ Another man spoke up as Greggory sat back down. This man looked kinder, warmer with a greying beard and wire glasses.

‘It’s Y/N,’ she said directly to the man, ‘and you are?’

‘Lucius Fox,’ he smiled at Y/N, ‘I see the Wayne in you. Stoic – just like your grandfather, but a warmth that is undeniably Martha, especially in those eyes.’

‘Thank you, Mr Fox,’ Y/N nodded towards the man as she took her spot at the front of the room, ready to address the members.

‘I have no doubt that when you lead the company, you shall do it with the strength and values that all previous Waynes’ have had.’

‘I like him’ Y/N said, turning to her father, ‘don’t fire him,’ she joked, causing a few little laughs in the room. ‘Now, I’m certain that if you asked all of us in this room at this point last year where we’d all end up, none of us would’ve said here, in this moment. Especially I of all people. Yes, as Mr O’Connor and my father said, my mother is Selina Kyle, who did grow up on the streets, but she has worked hard to provide me with a stable and good life. I do want to be CEO of Wayne Enterprises. I believe that we, as an international enterprise and a Gotham based one as well, need to show that, when we work together, Gotham can be more than criminals that run the city, we need to show that, when the people stand up against the evil and wrongs in the world, we can make a difference. A lot of people in Gotham are pushed aside, never heard, and those people are the ones who suffer the consequences of us and our ignorance. My mother was one of those people, and she was lucky and was able to claw her way out, though it wasn’t without hardships. But we need to make sure that none have to the pain and trials and tribulations that my mother went through, and that starts with us.’ Y/N paused, ‘As some have made themselves abundantly clear, you are not happy with me eventually becoming CEO of Wayne Enterprises, although I don’t want to be cruel here but I will state the truth I don’t know how many of you will be with us when what time comes, sorry if that comes to a shock to any of you but death is inevitable. I do hope that the ones of you who are happy with me will be able to work alongside me in using Wayne Enterprises power and influence to better Gotham City, and hopefully other places in the world. Those who aren’t fond of me and perhaps are secretly plotting against me, no offence if you don’t like me and aren’t plotting against but this is Gotham – we’ve been trained to expect the worse – I hope that you take this moment to do one of two things, one, you look at yourself and your world view and question why you are so threatened by me becoming the CEO, and hopefully we can see eye-to-eye and work well together. I don’t want any arguments to breakout amongst us all, we’re supposed to be colleagues, teammates, brothers-in-arms even against the war in Gotham. If you still cannot, or will not, work with me and see eye-to-eye, are still threatened by me, a young woman who will work hard to achieve her aims in life and will not be threatened, blackmailed or bullied by those weak willed and weak minded fools, I hope you take that as your queue to end your time here at Wayne Enterprises. I do look forward to working with you, and I hope we can do it like a family, for that is what everyone in Gotham is, family. No one else knows what it is like to live in Gotham, for it is a complex and unusual upbringing to have, and that is our strength as a city, no matter where we are from in Gotham, rich or poor, young or old, we all grew up the same, with that fear of the criminals and what they would do. Some of us were lucky enough to do it in a penthouse, others in crappy apartments, and others on the streets, but at our core, we’re all the same. We are Gotham. Let’s change it for the better.’ She finished and stepped back, slowly but surely members of the board began to clap for Y/N, all except O’Connor who stood up and met the trio’s gaze.

‘My letter of resignation will be on the desk by the end of the day, Mr Wayne.’

‘Very well.’

The man walked out the room while the others all came towards Y/N and welcomed her kindly. Lucius Fox patted her on the back and spoke gently, seeing her concern over O’Connor.

‘Don’t worry about Greg,’ Lucius assured her, ‘he’s no threat, all bark and no bite. He’ll just make a comment to the press and fade away. You think Wayne Enterprises is the first place he’s quit from?’

‘Thank you, Mr Fox.’

‘Call me Lucius, please, as you said, we’re family.’

[anoriginalbrilliantutterance]

I'll try to tell you. Then go home and forget it.  His name was Clifton and they shot him down. His name was Clifton and he was tall and some folks thought him handsome. And though he didn't believe it, I think he was. His name was Clifton and his face was black and his hair was thick with tight-rolled curls -- or call them naps or kinks. He's dead and, except to a few young girls, it doesn't matter. Have you got it?  Think of your brother or your cousin John. His lips were thick with an upward curve at the corners. He often smiled. He had good eyes and a pair of fast hands, and he had a heart. He thought about things and he felt deeply. I won't call him noble because what's such a word to do with one of us? 

His name was Clifton, Tod Clifton, and, like any man, he was born of woman to live awhile and fall and die. So that's his tale to the minute. His name was Clifton and for a while he lived among us and aroused a few hopes in the young manhood of man, and we who knew him loved him and he died. So why are you waiting? You've heard it all. Why wait for more, when all I can do is repeat it?" 

His name was Clifton and he was young and he was a leader and when he fell there was a hole in the heel of his sock and when he stretched forward he seemed not as tall as when he stood. So he died; and we who loved him are gathered here to mourn him. It's as simple as that and as short as that: His name was Clifton and he was black and they shot him. Isn't that enough to tell? Isn't it all you need to know? Isn't that enough to appease your thirst for drama and send you home to sleep it off? Go take a drink and forget it. Or read it in The Daily News. His name was Clifton and they shot him, and I was there to see him fall.  Here are the facts.

He was standing and he fell. He fell and he kneeled. He kneeled and he bled. He bled and he died. He fell in a heap like any man and his blood spilled out like any blood; red as any blood, wet as any blood reflecting the sky and the buildings and birds and trees, or your face if you'd looked into its dulling mirror and it dried in the sun as blood dries. That's all. They spilled his blood and he bled. They cut him down and he died; the blood flowed on the walk in a pool, gleamed a while, and, after awhile, became dull then dusty, then dried. That's the story and that's how it ended. It's an old story and there's been too much blood to excite you. Besides, it's only important when it fills the veins of a living man. Aren't you tired of such stories? Aren't you sick of the blood?  Then why listen? why don't you go? The beer is cold in the taverns, the saxophones will be mellow at the Savoy; plenty good-laughing-lies will be told in the barber shops and beauty parlors; and there'll be sermons in two hundred churches in the cool of the evening, and plenty of laughs at the movies. Go listen to 'Amos and Andy' and forget it. Here you have only the same old story. 

There's not even a young wife up here in red to mourn him. There's nothing here to pity, no one to break down and shout. Nothing to give you that good old frightened feeling. The story's too short and too simple. His name was Clifton, Tod Clifton, he was unarmed and his death was as senseless as his life was futile. He had struggled for Brotherhood on a hundred street corners and he thought it would make him more human,  but he died like any dog in a road.

"All, all right," I called out, feeling desperate. "Let me tell it as it truly was! His name was Tod Clifton and he was full of illusions. He thought he was a man when he was only Tod Clifton. He was shot for a simple mistake of judgement and he bled and his blood dried and shortly the crowd trampled out the stains. It was a normal mistake for which many are guilty. He thought he was a man and that men were not meant to be pushed around. But it was hot downtown and he forgot his history, he forgot the time and the place. He lost his hold on reality. There was a cop and a waiting audience but he was Tod Clifton and the cops are everywhere. The cop? What about him? He was a cop. A good citizen. But this cop had an itching finger and an eager ear for a word that rhymed with 'trigger', and when Clifton fell he had found it. The Police Special spoke its lines and the rhyme was completed. Just look around you. Look at what he made, look inside you and feel his awful power. It was perfectly natural. The blood ran like blood in a comic book killing, on a comic-book street in a comic-book town on a comic-book day in a comic-book world.

Tod Clifton's one with the ages. But what's that to do with you in this heat under this veiled sun? Now he's part of history, and he has received his true freedom ---didn't they scribble his name on a standardized pad?

His Race: colored! Religion: unknown, probably born Baptist. Place of birth: U.S. Some southern town. Next of kin: unknown. Address: unknown. Occupation: unemployed. Cause of death: resisting reality in the form of a .38 caliber revolver in the hands of the arresting officer, on Forty-second between the library and the subway in the heat of the afternoon, of gunshot wounds received from three bullets, fired at three paces, one bullet entering the right ventricle of the heart, and lodging there, the other severing the spinal ganglia raveling downward to lodge in the pelvis, the other breaking through the back and traveling God knows where.

Such was the short bitter life of Brother Tod Clifton. Now he's in this box with the bolts tightening down. He's in the box and we're in there with him, and when I've told you this you can go. It's dark in this box and it's crowded. It has a cracked ceiling and a clogged-up toilet in the hall. It has rats and roaches, and it's far, far too expensive a dwelling. The air is bad and it'll be cold this winter. Tod Clifton is crowded and he needs the room. 'Tell them to get out of the box,' that's what he would say if you could hear him. 'Tell them to get out of the box and go teach the cops to forget that rhyme. Tell them to teach them when they call you *n***er* to make a rhyme with *trigger* it makes the gun backfire.'

So there you have it. In a few hours Tod Clifton will be cold bones in the ground, and don't be fooled, for these bones shall not rise again.

You and I will still be in the box. I don't know if Tod Clifton had a soul. I only know the ache that I feel in my heart, my sense of love, I don't know if you have a soul. I only know that you are men of flesh and blood, and that blood will spill and flesh grow cold. I do not know if all cops are poets, but I know that all cops carry guns with triggers. And I know too how we are labeled. So in the name of Brother Clifton beware of the triggers; go home, keep cool, stay safe away from the sun. Forget him. When he was alive there's only one thing left to tell and I've already told it. His name was Tod Clifton, he believed in Brotherhood, he aroused our hopes  and he died."

[bonesthebeloved]

Writing Master post

AN: Here is all mt Sanders Sides related fic and otherwise so it’s easier to find for all of you. Happy reading!

Non fics/ prompt/ headcanon posts:

Sad Roman headcanons Masterpost

Random Creativitwins headcanons

Fluffy Logince headcanons

Fanfics:

All of these link to AO3 for now, I will link the Tumblr versions soon aswell however that takes a bit more digging.

The absence of a necessity  Summary: When Thomas stops lying altogether, Deceit and the other dark sides are quick to notice the effects. But it’s only made clear what kind of effect it truly has when it’s already too late…-or- Deceit disappears and the dark sides all grief in different ways. None of them able to accept that he's really gone

Least favourite to myself  Summary: Based on this prompt by transformationloveb:Ok I thought of some extra sad Roman angst for you- Ok, what I’d there’s a video where Thomas has the sides shapeshift as their favorite of all the sides (or, currently revealed sides at least). And the situation goes like this: Thomas: “You all change to your favorite side…NOW!” None of the sides change, cause, their favorite side is themselves……Nobody but Roman. Who shapeshifts into a side of your choosing. Thomas is a bit confused at this, noticing what happened. And decides: “Ok, second favorite side.” Everyone changes this time. But roman doesn’t switch to himself, It’s a different side again. “Third favorite?” Different side. “Fourth favorite?!” Different side. “Fifth?!” Different side. “LEAST FAVORITE?!” And Roman goes back to himself. Enjoy.

Red and green makes royalty Summary: Remus and Roman are in the middle of an argument when suddenly, King creativity shows up. An odd thing. Seeing as the two sides needed for his creation were gawking at him from a few feet away.

4 days and 4 months  Summary: After a fight, Roman goes on another quest to the imagination. After four days, Patton goes after him. Just to find that the issues might lay deeper than a simple feud

Absolutely nothing Summary: Work based on the poem 'Absolutely nothing' which appears in 'the perks of being a wallflower'. A story about how somebody can lose their grip on happiness and how their friends don't notice

When showers are no longer helpful Summary:Remus and Patton are in a relationship. Not a happy one but that’s okay. Those only exist in fairytales right?

For even if I'm far away I'll hold you in my heart Summary: King creativity knows he doesn't have much time left and sings one final song for Deceit who's much too young to know what is going on.

You did to me what tsunamis do to homes Summary: Patton and Remus fuse for an experiment. Then they fuse again. Then they stay fused because Patton wants them to. When the others finally find out how bad the fusion is hurting Remus, the damage is already done and they have to deal with the aftermath.

I'll write you bloody murder - Intrulogical  Summary: "Did you kill him, Lo?" Remus would convince himself that he had been dreaming it. Starting on a new book and buying him and Logan a puppy for their anniversary. Throwing clothes with the tiniest of blood splatters in the washing machine while acting like he hadn't seen the red splash. Like his husband coming back from work a bit too late and a bit too happy while smelling of fresh blood as he kissed him hello was something normal. Like knowing exactly which veins to hit and how long it would take for the victim to bleed out was part of the job. "I killed all of them."

What I am to you- Platonic Dukeceit Summary: Remus and Dee have been friends for so long that becoming anything else seems absurd to them.

Edward Scissorhands - Platonic Dukexiety Summary: Virgil and Remus have never been close. Could barely be called friends even. Virge wished for them having nothing in common.But when he starts to miss their ranting sessions, he goes to Remus his room to find if they still had some shared interests that Remus hadn't ruined for him.He found out that a shared interest existed. Or, more like, shared coping mechanism. But even for all the times, he wished the other to be dead, he never meant to hope for the other to self-harm. And he never hoped for him to do it for the same reasons either.

The tv-stand - intrulogical Summary: Logan imitating Remus in the bloopers video but they're gay and in love.

Tipsy - Logince Summary: It had started out like all of their unofficial dates had up until now. But this ended up being so much better.-Or-Logan gets tipsy and clings to Roman like a koala bear.

Chasing squirrels and sunspots  Summary: Deceit has a sphynx cat. She's a queen and snek boy would die for her.

Sharp edges evened out  Summary: Remus gets bullied at school. But luckily he has a very caring brother and two rats to cheer him up.

The last bird flew towards the south - Roceit  Summary: Deceit is dead. And the last leaves fall off the trees as poison drips from his fangs and the wounds on his arm. And Roman just holds him. And watched the birds pass by as he weeps. And Deceit is dead.

Loud talking, mushy thoughts  Summary: Roman, after being wronged by his 'family' one too many times, goes to live with the dark sides. Que protective instincts firing in both Remus and Deceit.

Everything stays Summary: When Remus finds the weapon that belonged to the original creativity thought to be long lost, he asks his brother for help to retrieve it. Based on a lovely comic by chronophobica on Tumblr and the song everything stays from adventure time.

Loved- Roceit Summary: Roman and Dee are married, soft, and use the same pet names me and my partner use. Also, Dee really wants one of the puppies Remus rescued.

Humming and plush butterflies  Summary: Virgil does weird stuff and Deceit records itDeceit has endearing stuff and Virgil knows about it.Logan is very confused by both of these things.-OR-I was soft for the lads and felt like shit so have my very first crackfic.

Complicated- Creativitwins  Summary: The twins have a complicated relationship with their father and figure it out through the years. >Tumblr version<

The only member Summary: Roman thought Virgil was in the fuck-Janus club too but realises he is in fact the only member.

AN: I’ll try to keep this updated so my work is easier to find.  (Hey @lance-alt , It’s nearing 1:30 am BUT I made it cuz you asked. Hope this helps. :) Love ya bud)

[multiverse-in-archive]

GLaDOS and What She can Potentially Tell Us About Chell’s Character

((So decided to make an analysis, finally, after reading way too much into GLaDOS’s voicelines.

When it comes to blank slate videogame protagonist characters, admittedly I’m the type to analyze them based off of what you can and can’t do in the games they’re in without a consequence of some sort [like death or contradicting one of the few previously established character traits] as well as how the other characters react and interact with them. It’s really all I get to go off of.

Now, I know GLaDOS is not the most reliable resource to analyze Chell off of, considering not only her bitterness and bias, but also that not all of her observations of Chell are accurate. After all, Chell is not mute, just refuses to speak out of spite.

However, she’s the only character we have that has the most insight into Chell as a person, and with things that she’s either exaggerating or straight up lying about, we can distinguish that by what can be observed of her in the gameplay. Plus, with some of them, I doubt she’d bring them up if there was no reason for her to believe bringing them up wouldn’t hold some truth or exploit some sort of insecurity. She’s the calculating type that aims for weak points she sees rather than just throwing shit out and hoping she gets lucky, you know?

“But didn’t she write the files? Or lie about what was in them?”

She may have edited and/or exaggerated them, but I think at least some of the things were already there before she got her hands on them. After all, there’s this. Which would imply that the scientists themselves would have made those comments in the files.

And considering how uncooperative Chell was with her application process [refusingto even speak to HR, answering essay questions with nonsense in bianary] then they’d probably thought rather bitterly of her, and it would reflect in the file.

[Side note, don’t really agree with the Half Life Wiki suggesting that Chell signed up for this {at least, willingly} when everything in the Lab Rat comic pointed to the opposite being the case.]

Now with all that out of the way, let’s finally have a look at some of GLaDOS’s comments about Chell and how they reflect her based off of what we the players see of her in game or what we can infer her reactions are to them by how GLaDOS approaches them.

The Fat Jokes

"Congratulations. Not on the test."

"Most people emerge from suspension terribly undernourished. I want to congratulate you on beating the odds and somehow managing to pack on a few pounds."  - Portal 2, SIngle Player Campaign, Chapter 2, Test Chamber 3

"Hmm. This Plate must not be calibrated to someone of your... generous... ness. I'll add a few zeros to the maximum weight."

"You seem to have defeated its load-bearing capacity. Well done. I'll just lower the ceiling."

"Look at you. Sailing through the air majestically. Like an eagle. Piloting a blimp." -Portal 2, Single Player Campaign, Chapter 3, Test Chamber 9

“What, but Chell’s not fat-”

Yeah, I know, this is just more about what Chell’s potential response to it is.

And telling by how this tends to be one of GLaDOS’s go to's, it does seem like it’s something that at least annoys her.

Then again, though, it could also be just GLaDOS trying to poke at the most common insecurity among women. And I think GLaDOS even admitted to that being the reason she goes to it so often here and here. So it’s really up to interpretation.

Though personally, I think it’s something that annoys Chell but at the same time it doesn’t really get to her, if it makes sense? Just a nuisance at worst.

Comments on Chell’s Parentage [or Lack Thereof]

"It also says you were adopted. So that's funny, too." -Portal, Boss Battle, After Curiosity Core is destroyed

"Don't let that 'horrible person' thing discourage you. It's just a data point. If it makes you feel any better, science has now validated your birth mother's decision to abandon you on a doorstep." -Portal 2, Single Player Campaign, Chapter 2, Test Chamber 3

"I'm going through the list of test subjects in cryogenic storage. I managed to find two with your last name. A man and a woman. So that's interesting. It's a small world." - Portal 2, Single Player Campaign, Chapter 3, Test Chamber 15

"I have a surprise waiting for you after this next test. Telling you would spoil the surprise, so I'll just give you a hint: It involves meeting two people you haven't seen in a long time." -Portal 2, Single Player Campaign, Chapter 3, Test Chamber 16

"I'll bet you think I forgot about your surprise. I didn't. In fact, we're headed to your surprise right now. After all these years. I'm getting choked up just thinking about it." -Portal 2, Single Player Campaign, Chapter 3, Test Chamber 17

Surprisingly the orphan/adopted jokes are actually fewer than I remember. With how Wheatley tried to imitate GLaDOS by throwing around “fatty” and making a comment about Chell being adopted that one time, I kinda thought that it was almost as common as the fat jokes.

Though, to be fair, the adoption comment goes back as far as the end of Portal, and GLaDOS actually did a whole bit where she pretended that she found Chell’s parents. So it left more of an impression on me than the fat comments actually did.

As for whether or not it’s true? It’s most likely. After all, the adoption/orphan comments are protocol for specifically dealing with orphan test subjects. Also in general Aperture seems to have it out for orphans in that test subject type listing thing. [credit to the-wheatley-core go check them out cowards-]

"But Chell’s a daughter from bring your daughter to work d-"

The file said she’s adopted, so ye. Adopted daughter is still daughter.

Furthermore, the Bring your Daughter to Work Day incident probably orphaned Chell all over again, so she’s like. An orphan twice over.

As for Chell’s feelings on this? I think from what GLaDOS says here that Chell probably did not take the surprise very well. Granted, she probably wasn’t expecting it to actually be anything good. She probably didn’t have her hopes up. But she was probably seriously pissed that GLaDOS went through all that trouble just for it to lead to... nothing. All for the sake of mocking her.

Further implied by GLaDOS rubbing salt in the wounds.

I think this would mean that this is a bit of a sore spot for Chell in general and that this was one of the few moments that genuinely upset her.

Calling Chell a Horrible Person [and a Loner]

"You're not a good person. You know that, right?"

"Good people don't end up here." -Portal, during the later part of the Escape

"All your other friends couldn't come either because you don't have any other friends. Because of how unlikable you are."

"It says so right here in your personnel file: Unlikable. Liked by no one. A bitter, unlikable loner whose passing shall not be mourned." -Portal, Boss Battle, After Curiosity Core is destroyed

"Well done. Here come the test results: You are a horrible person. I'm serious, that's what it says: A horrible person. We weren't even testing for that." -Portal 2, Single Player Campaign, Chapter 2, Test Chamber 2

GLaDOS really goes into calling Chell a bad person. There’s like. So many instances of this.

Though I don’t believe that Chell’s a bad person necessarily, there can be some things that might make one believe she is [outside of bias and clear guilt tripping/gaslighting].

If you’ve read my Chell headcanon shit, you might remember that I state that I think that Chell’s a rather spiteful person. Not only does she stubbornly refuse to speak purely to spite Aperture as a whole, but it’s implied from her file that she gave the scientists a lot of grief, to the point they recommend not ever testing her [it’s stated to be her tenacity, but tbh I think for Chell spite was at least a major motivatorfor her tenacity. After all, what else did she have?]. And once again, it seems that they view her rather bitterly if GLaDOS didn’t put that in the file herself.

Not to mention that GLaDOS manipulates her into destroying the Morality Core by appealing to her spite. After all, it’s not possible in game to simply do as she says and return it to her. You have to destroy it.

Even Wheatley caught onto Chell acting out of spite. He tried appealing to that when trying to convince her to get onto the conveyer belt to the mashy spike plate.

As for the loner bit, that seems to hold true to, considering how well Chell took the isolation she had to suffer. As far as she knew in the first game [at least at first], she was all alone and didn't so much as crack.

Not to mention in the second games the other characters' reactions imply that she's rather standoffish overall.

That combination can lead to someone being rather... difficult to work with...

But to be honest, I think she’s also capable of compassion, or at least mercy, and can be cooperative if she finds you trustworthy enough.

For the compassion [or mercy depending on how you view it] I have some examples that I’ll elaborate on in the Companion Cube and Wheatley sections, but there’s a couple of others I can get into.

Remember when I said I partially judge a blankslate character based off of what is and isn’t an option gameplaywise that doesn’t result in consequence.

Not only is it optional to save the Oracle Turret without consequence, but it even rewards you with an achievement and some neat foreshadowing from the character.

Then there is the time that Chell found GLaDOS at her lowest; a potato, being eaten alive by a bird.

Now, gameplaywise, you can’t advance without PotaTOS, hell, PotaTOS sits on the switch in the nest you find her in, but story and characterwise, Chell could have just went on her way, let her suffer the her fate at the hands [or talons/beak] of the bird. And yet she scared the bird off of her.

And it’s not like she knew that the place was going to self destruct or that she needed GLaDOS to survive, because that wasn’t brought up until after Chell scared the bird away.

As for the cooperativeness, I want to elaborate more on that when I get to Wheatley’s section, but I will say, she did work pretty well with GLaDOS in the later half of the game, despite how shakey their alliance was. Even risking her life to disconnect Wheatley from the chasis long enough for GLaDOS to fix everything. Just going off of the slim chance that she could survive it with GLaDOS’s intervention. It was no guarantee, she probably would have thought she was dead either way if she didn’t have at least a sliver of a thought that GLaDOS would pull her back in to safety.

Now imagine how well she'd probably work with you if she genuinely believed in her partnership with you.

It may have gotten a bit off track there, but my point is that GLaDOS is not completely unfounded with her being “unlikable”. It’s clear that she holds a lot of resentment for her situation and reacts spitefully because of it, and that combined with her being a rather distant person can make it hard to deal with her [and in fact might be a deal breaker for some], but at the same time, she’s not completely unreasonable and bitchy just so long as you’re either harmless or have good intentions.

Chell’s Sense of Fashion

"That jumpsuit you're wearing looks stupid. That's not me talking, it's right here in your file. On other people it looks fine, but right here a scientist has noted that on you it looks 'stupid.'"

"Well, what does a neck-bearded old engineer know about fashion? He probably - Oh, wait. It's a she. Still, what does she know? Oh wait, it says she has a medical degree. In fashion! From France!" -Portal 2, SIngle Player Campaign, Chapter 3, Test Chamber 15

Now, this is probably the shortest one because this is the only instance [that I know of] where GLaDOS pokes fun at her sense of fashion. And since it never comes up again, this is probably something that she sensed did not bother Chell one bit.

Though telling by how Chell had the upper half of her jumpsuit folded down and tied around her waist to expose her tops, it does seem like she cares about fashion a tad [probably favors both fashion and function], but doesn’t seem to care what other people think of her tastes, just what she likes.

The Companion Cube

"While it has been a faithful companion, your Companion Cube cannot accompany you through the rest of the test. If it could talk - and the Enrichment Center takes this opportunity to remind you that it cannot - it would tell you to go on without it because it would rather die in a fire than become a burden to you."

"You euthanized your faithful Companion Cube more quickly than any test subject on record. Congratulations." Portal, Test Chamber 17

"Oh. Did I accidentally fizzle that before you could complete the test? I'm sorry."

"Anyway, here's a new cube for you to project your deranged loneliness onto."

"I think that one was about to say 'I love you.' They ARE sentient, of course. We just have a LOT of them."  Portal 2, SIngle Player Campaign, Chapter 2, Test Chamber 7

Ah the faithful Companion Cube, everyone’s best friend. And an instance where GLaDOS tries to emotionally torment Chell while still trying to pass herself off as a automated voice back in the first game.

Is the cube truly sentient? I don’t know.

Does Chell care about it? I don’t think GLaDOS would have brought them back in the second game and taunt her with them if she didn’t believe it would cause Chell some distress.

She even gives it back to her after setting her free.

Whether or not it can talk or feel anything, I think it’s clear that Chell is rather fond of it.

Side note, I swear to god throughout Test Chamber 17 in the first game I heard like. Soft, faint humming whenever I held it. Am I just crazy? Did any of you guys experience that too? help-

Wheatley

"I have only met one other team closer and one of them was an imbecile I had to destroy."

"The other? Well..."

"I don't think I want to go through that again." -Portal 2, Co-op Campaign, Unlocking Course 4 for the first time

I don’t know about you, but I’m fairly certain the team she’s talking about is Chell and Wheatley. There is literally no other pair that would fit that description that we know of. Sure, she didn’t destroy Wheatley [literally, anyways], but he is her definition of an imbicel that she had to deal with. And Chell has not worked with anyone else before Wheatley [Not directly anyways], and it’s pretty obvious that “the other” is who GLaDOS was referring to.

And while she didn’t get to see all they did together, she witnessed Chell put enough of her trust in him to follow him to escape, even despite her best efforts, and she bared witness to the fruit of their labor later.

I think she sensed a sort of chemistry between them, noticed how well they worked together. She even felt the need to ask permission to kill him. She probably wouldn’t have if she didn’t have reason to believe that Chell was at least at one point close to him.

So that begs the question; does she really believe Chell actually did all the work?

I don’t think so.

Again, she witnessed Chell faithfully follow Wheatley, so it’s reasonable to assume that she was following his lead. Not to mention that this is not a type of strategy that Chell has attempted on her own before. Chell’s strategy in the first game was to simply to bide her time, portal in and out when the opportunity arises, destroy shit, and just wander until she got results, basically [she was kinda following Rattmann's directions, though]. This strategy was too subtle, too quiet, to be Chell’s. She even said so herself; "And now I'monto all of your little tricks." And she'd recognized that this is not how she do.

Not to mention that they all know that Wheatley knows Aperture and all its inner workings better than Chell, so even if she wanted to sabotage anything, she wouldn’t know what and where they were.

I believe she saw an opertunity to split them apart in the form of Wheatley’s betrayal. More specifically to turn Chell against him. After all, she was very quiet until he lowered the lift back down.

Of course that backfired into her turning Wheatley against Chell and Wheatley promptly turning her into a potato. Opps-

“But if they were as close as GLaDOS believed them to be, why didn’t she catch Wheatley? After all, it’s not an option to catch him in game.”

Well remember, Chell has only just met him at this point, so it’s fair that she doesn’t immediately trust him with what she’s been through. Not to mention that the last time that a core was dropped, it was a trap.

Though, I believe after that, she realized he was sincere and steadily warmed up to him. It’s never an option to drop him whenever you pick him up, after all. Now granted, you can’t progress if you could drop him down a pit, but I think characterwise we can assume that she’s just unwilling to do so, regardless of how useful he was to her in those instances.

Furthermore, I think she grew to trust him throughout chapters 3, 4, and 5, as again, she very willingly followed his lead and had faith that he would help bust her out, waiting patiently for him to do so.

Sure, she diverted a bit to flesh out his plan some [although if you wait long enough at the turret assembly line, he does tell you what to do, so this could be another instance of her following his lead without question, though I like to think because of her problem solving skills that she does it herself, but either way!], but it’s still his plan that she’s trusting him with regardless.

Plus, I think Wheatley being as casual with her as he was during chapter 5 is implication that they both felt safe with each other at that point. At least, as safe as you can feel when hiding from a pissed off over powered blood lusting AI while being forced to wander around in the dark with only a flashlight to guide you.

And yet she kept him at arm's length by not speaking to him. I doubt it was anything personal against him though, so much as it's become a long time habit and way of protecting herself at this point. So long as they were both still in Aperture, anything could happen. So to her, keeping an emotional distance from him and not verbally responding was probably the safest bet.

That, however, was what made it so easy for GLaDOS to destroy their partnership. The lack of communication would ultimately lead Wheatley to believe that Chell did not appreciate all his help, that she agreed with her even.

Chell's shutting him out ultimately led to a self fulfilling prophecy.

Welp, this took all fucking day to write, but here we go. Hope this made sense. This is just my interpretation, so take it with a grain of salt. Hope it was a fun read either way, and if I’m mistaken on something, feel free to let me know. ^^

Edit: Fixed some grammar and other mistakes, elaborated on some points, aaaaand gave credit to the little snippit of the low risk human acquisitionthing siiiince I did not get that myself-))

[shaineybainey]

“Noble Intentions”

Lab Rats [T]

The Lab Rats and Mighty Med teams face off with the greatest threat to humanity yet: The Incapacitator, a supervillain bent on becoming the most powerful in the planet. …Which makes things super awkward for Leo, considering that their newest nemesis is his father. AU. Lab Rats vs Mighty Med redux.

** DISCLAIMER: SEE CHAPTER ONE FOR DISCLAIMER **

tagging: @vcnting @clockradio93 @breanadaveport-mendel @lettersandwhiteroses @serpent-princess @verified-dumbass @weareoutofmaplesyrupdave @aaaaahhhhh1234

IV: Disaster Med

Kaz flinches when Chase’s laser bo staff slams against Gray Granite’s staff. The superheroes are currently locked on a heated battle against the bionic trio, and while he knows this could result into someone getting hurt, he doesn’t feel inclined to clear out the misunderstanding that started it.

“We should tell them, Kaz,” Oliver says worriedly as they watch behind a pillar. “What if someone gets hurt?”

Leave it to his best friend to know exactly what he’s thinking of not doing. “Dude. Do you—”

They’re both knocked off their feet as Adam’s blast wave missed Tecton and hits their hiding place instead. Stars dance in front of his eyes as his left arm, exposed from the pillar, feels like it had been run over by a truck three times over.

He groans, struggling up to his feet. “You want to get in the middle of that?” he asks Oliver quietly as he pulls him up his feet.

Oliver says nothing, only winces as he retreats even more to safety.

They startle when Gamma Girl crashes against Tecton after Bree tackled her. The two superheroes are left dazed while the bionic teenager uses her free time to help Adam with Gray Granite.

Kaz grins. This is definitely a lot better than going to any comic book store in Amsterdam.

– Ϟ –

Leo knows he’s come just a tad bit too late. Running towards the quarters, he could hear his stepfather screaming as blasts boom at a regular rate inside. When he finally arrives, he sees he’s right: the place is a mess, his stepfather is on the floor looking up in fear at the superpowered trespasser, and The Incapacitator holds close the container bearing the energy transponder.

He frowns. He knows he really should be worried about other, more important things, but - has his father’s suit gotten tighter or is he just imagining things?

Noting his presence, Donald looks his way. “No,” he says fearfully, especially when The Incapacitator looks his way, too. “No. Leo, get out of here!”

Leo doesn’t move. He only stares at the supervillain defiantly. “Incapacitator,” he says neutrally – a greeting of sorts.

“The Incapacitator.”

He almost rolls his eyes. “Are we gonna be hung up on that ‘the’ the whole day, or…?”

The Incapacitator only chuckles.

He’s suddenly reminded of the fact that he lied to him. “Why are you here?” he says as he stares him in the eye.

“Mr. Davenport tells me that the only way to open this box is by getting past this retina scan,” The Incapacitator says. He sits the container on top of the overturned coffee table and grins superciliously. “I can’t decide: should I take an impression of his eye, or should I just take the whole eyeball out?”

“Please don’t.”

“Leo, don’t,” Donald orders, stopping him from coming any closer. “He’s not bionic. You can’t escape this like you escaped Marcus or Krane.”

Leo’s jaw locks then unlocks as he looks at his stepfather then his father. He was able to escape from Marcus due to a series of good opportunities that opened up and some quick thinking.

Krane, he didn’t escape.

The Incapacitator killed him.

He could see from his dad’s eyes that there’s no stopping him. From what he can piece together, he knows the energy transponder is necessary for whatever new plan he has. So, hating himself for what he has to suggest, he asks in resign, “If I open it for you, can you promise not to do any of those things?”

“It depends. Some people, I just can’t stand these days. I don’t know if I can promise.”

I don’t think you know how to promise either, Leo thinks bitterly as he makes a move towards the weapons case.

“No, Leo!” Donald stops him. “We can’t just give it to him. He’s going to drain the whole world of power. He can’t have it!”

Leo hesitates. It’s not his father’s first world domination plan, but it sounds a lot deadlier than the other ones.

The Incapacitator charges up energy in his right hand. “Tick tock,” he softly presses.

Leo glares at him. He said he would never put him in a spot where he had to choose between doing the right thing and making a decision as his son. “I feel like you’re breaking something here,” he says in disappointment.

The grin on The Incapacitator’s face remains, but a small spark of recognition has gone off in his eyes.

However, it doesn’t stay long. An idea comes to mind, and a new, wolfish grin comes up to his face. He constructs a lasso of green energy then throws it.

It wraps around Leo’s torso all too quickly and all too tightly.  “What are you doing? Let me go!” he screams, struggling against it as he’s lifted up in the air.

“Please! Stop!” Donald asks, horrified.

“What about it, Mr. Davenport?” the supervillain says. “The energy transponder or the boy?”

“Big D, don’t!”

“I can take energy from other things around me, or I can take energy from him.”

When Donald hesitates, The Incapacitator pulls Leo closer until he’s hovering just above them.

Then Leo feels it, the energy lasso closing in tighter around him. It presses his arms against his body, the growing pressure squeezing out his breath slowly. His heart panics like a spooked bird in a cage.

Doubt suffocates him even more. His father is not going to kill him, right? He loves him, right?

“Okay, okay!” he hears his stepfather yell as dizziness has begun setting in. “I’ll open it. Just – just let go of my son.”

As the restraints eases and the sudden rush of oxygen makes his head swim, he sees an outline of movement towards the container. He’s slowly let down on the ground. Once the scanner emits a beep, the energy lasso vanishes altogether.

His stepfather crawls towards him. “Are you okay?” he asks.

Leo nods.

They watch helplessly as The Incapacitator holds the invention up as a test. Lights flicker and technology crackle all around the quarters as the transponder draws power. It keeps taking, taking, taking – siphoning too much power into the wrong hands.

Once he’s satisfied, The Incapacitator powers off the transponder and smirks at the device.

It’s then that they hear a rush from the hall. Not a moment later, the room fills with the very people Leo both wished he would and would never see. “Don’t move, Incapacitator,” orders Tecton.

“You’re too late, Tecton,” the supervillain says. “I already have what I need to make you and the entire world bow down at my feet.”

He draws a super charge of energy and encases Tecton, Gamma Girl, and Gray Granite within a sphere before they can act. With the powerful superheroes imprisoned, he sends them out through the roof.

Spackle and debris spray around them. As destruction lies all around, Leo realizes that for the second time in his life, he’s truly afraid of the darkness his father holds inside.

“That’s it,” Chase says, furious. “I got us into this mess. I’m going to get us out.”

“No! Chase,” he tells his brother, staggering up to his feet. “He’s too powerful!”

Fueled by a sense of duty, Chase activates the laser bo staff. Then, he comes at the supervillain.

The more experienced of the two, The Incapacitator blocks the attack easily. He overloads the bo staff with energy to anchor Chase in place.

Chase freezes, the surge of electricity locking him to vulnerability.

With this advantage, The Incapacitator charges a deathly blast of energy to finish him.

“No!” Leo screams. When the supervillain looks at him, he shakes his head pleadingly. “Please. Please not my brother.”

The Incapacitator considers it a moment. Then, he sets off an energy blast similar to Adam’s, knocking Chase out and knocking the others off their feet. “Nice doing business with you, Mr. Davenport,” he says, smiling at the inventor.

Donald only glares at him.

It surprises Leo when he grabs him by the arm. As he looks into his eyes - wearing that suit, knowing to what extent he’d go just to get what he wants, and seeing just how little he valued the lives of others, he realizes then that he doesn’t want to be like his father.

He doesn’t want to be a villain.

Before he could shake his hold, though, a surge of energy hits him. It overwhelms his brain for a long, agonizing second.

Then, everything fades to black.

– Ϟ –

“Leo!” Bree screams as The Incapacitator takes her little brother on his shoulder.

“Let him go!” Adam demands.

“You got the transponder already,” Donald says. “Let him go!”

The Incapacitator smirks. “I spared your kid,” he says. “This is only fair.”

“No!”

A neon green cloud swallows the supervillain and the teenager, and in a moment they are gone.

Bree feels as if her heart has fallen into a hole. She’s shaking with nervousness and adrenaline. Prompted by instinct, she staggers to her feet then comes to Chase’s side.

She checks his vitals, hoping for a beat, a breath, anything.

She sighs of relief when she feels a pulse. She tries to wake him, but to no avail. “Chase,” she persists, “you have to wake up.”

“Mr. Davenport…” Adam looks to their father as he sits beside her, the same look of urgency and loss on his face.

“He must have fried his whole infrastructure,” Donald says, rising to his feet. He shakes his head. “I don’t have the equipment here to fix it.”

“Chase…”

“Well, we can’t just let him die,” Adam protests.

“You don’t have to,” Oliver, now back up to his feet like Kaz, says. “Mighty Med. We have the equipment there. It’s a superhero hospital, and Kaz and I are doctors. We can help.”

Donald thinks it over a moment before nodding. “Okay. Adam, Bree, go with them. Make sure that Chase is okay,” he says. Then, to Oliver and Kaz he asks, “Please. Save my son.”

“We will,” Kaz says.

At that moment, Tecton flies into the room. He helps Gray Granite to the ground and asks, “Where’s Incapacitator?”

“Gone. He took the transponder with him,” Oliver reports. “Worse yet, he took their younger brother as hostage.”

“Hiding behind a child, huh?” Gamma Girl asks as she lands beside Gray Granite. The anger hidden under her unaffected expression is searing. “He must be desperate. He’s changed his MO.”

“I don’t like this,” says Tecton. “We need to find that kid.”

“I’ll call my brother and have him assist me,” Donald chimes in. “We can locate him faster if we have two sides searching. For the meantime…”

Oliver nods, taking out the wormhole transporter from his pocket. “We’ll do our best to get Chase back to you in good health.”

Donald nods appreciatively.

“Okay. Kaz? Everyone, hold on,” Oliver instructs.

Bree’s heart races as she holds onto Chase and Adam. They’ve dealt with many nightmares and many near-deaths before, but she doesn’t think she’ll ever get used to them.

What gets to her this time is the uncertainty of where Leo is and what’s going to happen to him. Is he hurt? Will he be okay? Will he be able to come home?

Her chest aches as she realizes that she couldn’t even protect her little brothers.

“Bree.” Adam nods. “It’ll be okay.”

As the five of them vanish into a wormhole, Bree wonders if it really will be.

[canyouhearthelight]

The Miys, Ch. 71

Thank you to @satan-parisienne for being my #1 beta reader and literally writing half this chapter.  So many conversations between us are captured in their essence when Sophia and Tyche interact, but this was such a rare opportunity to transcribe such a conversation. 

There are so many other people I want to thank, but if I thank all of you, this post would be literally just tags. So, I want to include @baelpenrose and @anotherusrname for also being there for everything that doesn’t make it into this story, and @charlylimph-blog for being the light and joy in the world that I wish I could be. 

No worries, this isn’t the last chapter, I just had a really rough week from a mental health perspective.  The show will go on.

At some point during the night, Xiomara vanished with the gorgeous artist. This left my sister, Charly, and myself to annoy Sebastian until the guys could come and rescue… someone.  I wasn’t sure if they saved us or the poor pub-owner. All I could remember after Xiomara leaving was Charly deciding Conor was a good chair: intending to sit on her stool, she had unceremoniously climbed in his lap instead. After some wiggling to figure out the difference, she had pronounced the chair to be soft and warm.

With a snort of laughter that made my eyes water, I had to explain that it wasn’t the chair she was practically wallowing in, it was my boyfriend’s lap. With a very serious look at his face, she had only patted his beard and announced that she understood why I kept him since he was so comfortable and warm. That was the point when Coffey scooped her up, tossed her over his shoulder in a fireman’s carry, and took a still-waving Charly home, and everything else kind of blurred together.

As for myself, I woke up the next morning being tortured for my sins. Someone had decided to play a recording of a cement mixer over a looped track of a chainsaw, at full volume, targeted straight at my ears. Groaning in pain, I covered my ears and quickly realized I didn’t have enough hands to also cover my eyes. The chainsaw stopped abruptly and I felt the mattress dip to my left. I cracked my eye when an arm nudged mine. Maverick was handing me a cup full of something that was quickly snatched away when I tried to sniff it. He brought it back with a pointed look, so I placed my faith in him and chugged it.

If it smelled half as bad as it tasted, no wonder he wouldn’t let me take a whiff – only every shred of self-control I hadn’t exercised the night before kept the concoction my stomach. It tasted like analgesic, so I assumed if I kept it down, the hangover would go away eventually. That didn’t make the act of forcing it to stay in my stomach any easier.

When I no longer felt like my brain was trying to escape my skull through judicious use of a sledgehammer, I took a deep breath and braved opening my eyes. What little light there was in our bedroom was no longer cleverly crafted from sharp objects, and the cement mixer had been replaced by Conor snoring away to my right.

“He took the late shift to make sure you all got home safe,” Maverick whispered softly. “So I agreed to be the one to deal with your hangover.” When I glared at the empty cup he had taken from me, he shrugged and smirked at me. “Analgesic, electrolyte solution, and an anti-emetic.”

“No wonder it tasted like ass,” I grumbled.

Jokingly, he waved a hand in front of his nose before pinching it. “I think you’re just tasting your mouth, honestly.  You really need to brush your teeth.”

Scowling, I ran my tongue over the inside of my teeth – and immediately regretted it. Did I eat a dead rat or something? I whimpered to myself before staggering to scrub the taste of whatever it was out of my mouth.  After a rather prolonged date with my toothbrush as well as a shower, I managed to walk much more gracefully into the kitchen to get some coffee.  Conor had already beat me to it, however, handing me a steaming cup as I walked in. He carefully ruffled my hair – I was still struggling with flashbacks – and bent down so I could kiss his cheek.

I pulled back and arched an eyebrow. “You sure you don’t want that kiss from someone else?” I teased.

“You would never believe how awkward that was,” he deadpanned, rolling his eyes. “Charly’s a nice girl, but I got my hands full with you two. Sides, she’s a bit much for me, you catch my drift.” He gave me a pout and tapped his cheek again.

Giggling, I obliged before going to sit on the couch and putting my head on Maverick’s shoulder. “Do I smell better?” I yawned before sipping my coffee.

“Much,” he exhaled gratefully.

I snuggled in further, now that I was granted approval. “Tyche make it home okay? I’ll admit I don’t remember much.”

“Yeah, she’s fine.  Antoine took her home not long before Coffey came and got Charly.”

“They weren’t sneaky at all, you know?” As I said this, Conor walked in with a quizzical look on his face. “We knew you, Coffey, and Antoine were sitting in the opposite corner all night.  Zach showed up later, hung around for a bit, so did Simon but he headed out kind of early.”

“You weren’t supposed to know,” Conor scowled comically.

“You and Coffey are the two tallest humans on the ship.  Did you really think you were hiding? Especially with Xiomara at the table?”

“She’s got a point,” Maverick laughed. “What is it you always say? Xiomara has horse’s ears?”

Conor tipped his head back laughing. “I said I hadn’t seen her in a donkey’s ears, which just means a really long time. But yeah, I should have known she would see us.  We figured she’d be on our side, not ratting us out.”

I buried my face in Maverick’s shirt, laughing.  Sitting up, I wiped a tear from one eye. “Love.  Xiomara was in the military and trained in hand-to-hand combat, and you don’t want to see what Tyche can do in a fight.  She fights dirtier than mud.  We were safe, I promise.”

“Let us worry,” Maverick pressed a kiss to my temple. “You don’t get to hog all the overprotective instincts, you know. And besides, if any of you ladies thought that Coffey wasn’t going to be watching Charly like a hawk, you’ve lost your minds. I’ve seen what she can get up to when she’s sober. Drunk? No thank you.”

“Speaking of Charly,” I adjusted so I was sitting straighter. “Galactic education starts next week.  She told me she’s in one of the first classes.”

Maverick nodded. “Yeah, same section I’m in, I think. I didn’t recognize the teacher’s name, though.”

“At least that means we know it isn’t Simon,” Conor pointed out with a grin.

“Be nice,” I remonstrated. “Eino administered all his testing for certification, and he’s pretty impressed with Simon.  Even in the practical observation, he did a great job.”

“Wait,” Maverick ventured slowly. “If this is a new curriculum, how is there a practical observation?”

Conor shook his head before reaching forward to squeeze the other man’s knee. “The educators have to go through the course before they can teach it, just like anything else.  They’ve already been trained in how to teach, but need to know what they are teaching.”

I picked up from there with a nod. “Simon, on the other hand, is already familiar with the material but had to go through training to know how to teach. So, two birds, one stone.” Leaning forward, I flicked my wrist to bring up my datapad where everyone could see it. “Simon is one of three people who will be fully reassigned to teaching the Galactic education courses, while every other trained educator on the ship will be teaching one to three sections in addition to their existing coursework.”

“Nearly every other educator,” Conor corrected with a stern look.

“You sound like Tyche.”

“With good reason! You never told anyone you were a teacher!”

“Wait, what – “ Maverick sputtered, confused. “You were!?”

“One, I never actually taught on my own, I changed careers in my last year as a student-teacher. Two, I did tell other people! It just never really came up that often.” When Conor opened his mouth to object, I cut off the statement I knew was coming. “And I have mentioned it to the two of you, so I don’t want to hear it!”

Conor’s mouth shut with a click and realization dawned on Maverick’s face. “All those nights you were going through candidates to teach the courses… You kept saying you would make sure the program succeeded….”

“Even if I had to teach it my damned self,” I finished. “I wasn’t kidding.  All I need is about fifteen more hours practical observation, according to Eino.”

“You asked?” Conor looked skeptical.

“Well, Tyche did,” I admitted. “Just because we were having a hard time finding enough candidates to dedicate their time to just that course.”

“I thought Alistair was a teacher?”

“Librarian,” I corrected. “Totally different skill set, believe me.  I tried suggesting that he teach a section or two, and got an earful about the differences.  Ironically, he gave me a lecture about how he isn’t trained to lecture?” Shaking my head, I finished off my coffee. “Anyway, we managed to find enough teachers, so courses should start next week.”

“We should celebrate!” Maverick grinned. “A big family dinner, since we kept it small for Insert Winter Holiday. Invite everyone!”

I started counting in my head and groaned when I hit the double digits. “Mav… that’s…” Xiomara, Zach, Hannah, carry the three…. “That’s fifteen, sixteen people?  I don’t think we really even have room for everyone.  Especially if we don’t want people getting overwhelmed.”

“You and Tyche may want to talk about a family dinner rotation.” I thought Conor was joking, but a look at his face told me he was dead serious. “When there were just five of us, it was one thing, but now? The dinners the two of you make are turning into the hottest table in town.”

With a sigh, I shot a quick message to Tyche to see if she was in the land of the living.  Rather than respond, she showed up at my quarters, Antoine in tow and Mac staring balefully from her shoulders.  “Hangover remedies are revolting, but work,” she proclaimed while making a beeline for my kitchen.  Shortly, everyone was seated with a fresh cup of tea or coffee. “Now, why have I been summoned from my lair?”

I gestured to Maverick first. “Handsome number two had the idea to have a family dinner to celebrate the launch of the new education courses.” I paused for effect. “All of the family.”

Tyche sputtered and choked on her drink. “Where would we fit them all!? Neither of our quarters are anywhere approaching large enough.  We would need a small mess hall, which kind of ruins the effect.”

“I agree.  But I also agree we need to celebrate… what if we talked to Sebastian and took over the Undine for a night? It’s smaller, with dinner-style tables.”

She tipped her head side to side, thinking. “It might work.”

“Well, Handsome number one came up with another good point.” I gestured for Conor to explain.

“I just think you and Sophie should consider setting up a rotation for family dinners. Not just who is cooking,” he rushed to clarify, “but who you’re inviting. We love you girls ‘til the wheels fall off, but you adopt strays faster than most cat ladies I’ve met. Not that I’m complainin’, being part of that number!” He held up his hands in surrender. “But don’t you lasses think the ‘come one, come all’ approach is getting to be a bit much?”

To my surprise, Antoine nodded even more emphatically than Maverick did. “Sophia, Tyche, he is right. Only sheer luck and good manners have kept the two of you from being overwhelmed by your insistence on feeding anyone who arrives during your ‘family dinners’.  Inviting specific people on specific evenings may be the best idea, while also considering keeping some meals to just the five of us.”

Before the objection could even bubble up to my throat, Maverick squeezed me against him. “I can actually feel her heart breaking.” Briskly rubbing my arm, he dropped a kiss on top of my head. “Sweetheart, you and Tyche both said it yourselves: If everyone chooses to drop in on any given Wednesday, neither set of quarters have room to accommodate that.”

Tyche heaved a sigh of concession. “Okay, I definitely see the point about the ‘just us’ dinners… I’ve really missed those, honestly.  But, how do we decide rotations for everyone else? How are we supposed to make it fair?”

I sat bolt upright as her words hit me. “You. Are. A. Genius.  I actually have an answer to that!”

The expression on her face was matched by the one Mac was dishing out when my exclamation interrupted his nap. “Okay… How am I a genius right now?”

“How to make it fair.”

“So, for bringing up the question?”

I nodded my head emphatically before gulping down the rest of my coffee. “Themes.  We are going to set… five. Five themes. Culinary ones.  We are going to set… five. Five themes. And anyone who has a standing invitation to dinner will be asked to rank them, one through five, and we’ll use that to set the rotation.” I grinned triumphantly as Tyche’s face shone with realization, but then looked at the guys.

All three of them were completely lost.

“Everyone except the five of us will get the list of themes… something broad.  Not a specific dish, but a really broad type of food. They rank the five, with one being the absolute preference and five being ‘hey, not my favorite, but if Tyche or Sophia are cooking, I may give it a shot.’ The first, say, three people who ranked a certain theme their favorite get that, then the rest get their second choice, so on and so forth.”

“Ideally, no one will have to eat their fifth choice theme,” Tyche clarified. “Or even their third.”

Maverick hummed briefly. “So, say everyone picks the same thing for their number one. How do you decide who gets it?”

Tyche and I glanced at each other before I shrugged. “Honestly, the three who have the most restrictive dietary needs, are closest to us, and get along the best. If everyone picks the same thing for their first choice, it’s going to be something plain and probably vegetarian because that’s the majority of Derek’s diet and he has the most restrictive one. So it would be Derek, Grey, and probably Zach who got that one.  Everyone else would then get their second, and so on.”

“But,” Tyche emphasized, “letting everyone pick the meals they would prefer makes it the most fair and easiest on us, because then we know what to cook each week.  And there would still be meals for just the five of us, right?” She glanced at me, questioning.

“At least every sixth meal, but I would prefer after every three,” I admitted.  “That gives us once a Terran month.”

“What about big meals?” Maverick pressed. “For everyone?”

I tapped my chin for a moment while Tyche furrowed her brow. “Quarterly?” I asked, just as she suggested “Birthdays?”

Ugh. Both made sense. “Well, our birthdays are three months apart, give or take a few years, so we could still do quarterly. I just figured the Terran equinoxes and solstices, because they align with pretty big Terran holidays in most cultures and religions.”

“If you went with that, it would mean we could have the option of quiet birthdays,” she pointed out.

“That’s what I was kind of thinking,” I admitted. “I mean, what if we don’t feel like peopling on our own days?  We could still do that, in addition to the other four, but it wouldn’t feel mandatory.”

“I like it. That’s the solution.”

I grinned widely, happy with the compromise. Conor, however, waved his hand where everyone could see it. “For those of us who don’t have a mysterious psychic connection that even Noah says doesn’t exist, what exactly are your themes going to be?”

“Spicy, simple, protein, vegetarian, and soup,” Tyche and I answered in unison.  While it wasn’t intentional, we managed to stifle our surprise and laughter to make it look like we had done it on purpose.

Antoine looked thoughtful before nodding. “That does, actually, make the most sense.  Those are such severe distinctions, excluding the soup, that there should be no difficulty with anyone having a definitive preference.”

I thought about that briefly. “Yeah, I know ‘soup’ feels like a stuck on category.  But I genuinely know people who hate it, and also some who will eat any soup or stew you put in front of them.  It’s about the food touching, the flavors combining, and so on.”

Maverick was the one to back me up on that bit of information. “Derek will probably rank soup as either first or second, especially if you go by the strict culinary definition.  For someone who doesn’t like mushy food, he practically loses his mind if you give him a bisque.  It’s crazy.”

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[one-fan-gurl]

why did i sign up for this again?

chapter 2

*ring*  *ring*  *ring*

“Hello?” a small voice from the other side of the phone answered.

“Hi this is (y/n) (y/l/n). I got your card from one of your teachers, Eraserhead.” sitting on the island in the kitchen. Waiting for your poptart to be done.

“Ah yes. (y/l/n).” a few shuffling of papers before resuming talking, “if you could. Can you meet me at the UA entrance.”

The toaster dinged, signaling it was done. “Of course. When?” sliding towards the pastry.

Right when you were about to take a bite, the principle spoke up. “Now.” dropping the pastry on the floor.

“Huh.” looking down at your snack, facefirst on the ground. “I can get there in, I think, 5 minutes.”

“Great!” a cheerful voice rang through the microphone. “Wear things that you can practice in.” the dial tone came on, cutting off anything you were about to say. Sighing, you turned towards your room to change. Luckily clothes from yesterday’s mall adventure fit the activity.

Looking into the mirror, as you leave. (H/c) loose around your shoulders, a tan crop top sweater, under the shirt is a black sports bra with white Nike labeled on the bottom hem, gray leggings, and finally black running shoes. Putting loose leather pants over the leggings and the leather jacket to cover your upper body. Going down towards the garage, towards spot 7.

---

Parking your bike near the entrance. Taking off the pants and jacket. Replacing the leather jacket with a gray oversized Harvard hoodie. Walking towards the big building. A mouse thing was standing there, waiting.

“Hello (y/n) (y/l/n).” The mouse thing said to the teenage girl. “I’m the person you talked to.”

“Ah. Hello Mr. Principle.” Bowing slightly “Thank you for inviting me”

“Nezu.” The mouse, Nezu. Motioned to follow him. Now getting very self conscious about how you are dressed. Luckily the hoodie covered all the things that made you self conscious. Your thoughts got caught off when Nezu cleared his throat.

“I would like you to practice,” Nezu waved his paws towards the scenery. It was a forest. That was really great for you, more water. “Against these robots.” Green robots went after you.

‘Ha robots.’ You silently chuckled, ‘give me something easier. Like a human.’

Pulling off the hoodie, showing all of your workout clothes.pulling the water from the ground to make the robots rust. Pulling a knife from the pocket that is on your arm. Mist traveling behind a robot, only to slice the back to the neck. Having it collapse, and you moved on to the other robot. Having the water from the air swirl around the next robot, making it rust and having them stop moving. Only a few robots left, but they were taller and harder to destroy.

Only thing is that water and electricity don’t mix.

Taking out the water from the air and even the trees and soil. Frying the circuit boards. Only in a matter of seconds all the robots are down on the ground, not even breaking a sweat. Looking at the principle, an eyebrow raised. No emotion was on his face, but when he cackled and pulled out a big red button. Made you worry. The ground shakes. Comically, the birds flew out of the trees. A big green robot stood above you.

Silently laughing. ‘Finally.’ the feel in your gut as you pull water from the lakes and ponds, ‘a challenge.’

Water. From every body of water in the arena, the soil, even the plants. The stamina is slowly decreasing, as you pull the water over the robot. Trying to find any cracks for the water to slip in. A few drops go in, but a few is about all you need. Putting the water back where it came from, before putting all your attention to the small droplets. Making the drops of water run all the way to the circuit board. When the water reached the board, the robot spasmed. As it was freaking out, it started to fall.

Right near Nezu.

Mist traveling towards the principle.

“May I?” asking the small rat thing to be picked up. He just nodded his head. Before he knew it he was mist. Being cleared from the falling robot, you exited from the mist mode. “Sorry about that.” Putting the animal down.

“Don't be.” the principle looked, excited? “That type of travel was riveting! Also you will get a letter soon. I'll lead you out!” smiling at the animal slightly before nodding.

Oh little do you know, the UA staff was watching you. Some are in awe, others are just in shock (except Aizawa, cause he didn't really care). It has been a while for a powerful quirk to come up in UA.

---

One week. It took one week for the letter to come. Sadly your mom had to push back the time to come to Japan, so you are still living alone. Luckily you know how to live by yourself, having your mom being a very busy person.

(just an acceptance letter)

Dear Ms. (y/l/n),

On behalf of UA I am pleased to congratulate you on your acceptance into our program for the second semester. We were very impressed by your academic history and believe that you will prove that our confidence in you is not unfounded.

Enclosed with this letter, please find the necessary enrollment form for you to fill out and return by (random date). You will be contacted upon receipt of the form by our student advisor, who will give you all further details regarding scheduling. If you have any questions regarding this letter, please feel free to contact us at the admissions office by phone at (xxx)-xxx-xxxx.We look forward to hearing back from you.

We at UA are pleased to welcome you and feel that you will make a great addition to our student body. We wish you the very best in success in your future and hope that you will find all of your needs satisfactorily met here. Thank you for your prompt attention and for choosing UA.

Yours sincerely,

Nezu

Sighing, you started to fill out your form. Already having a degree in math and science, but never went to a hero course. This is going to be different and not a good different but a bad different.

---

After sending the application in and getting a response on going to class today. You were unhappy. Not that you are training to be a hero, but also the uniforms are disgusting. Whoever decided about the uniform colors and scheme, you are so gonna hurt them. The gray blazer, red tie, white shirt, and the dark blue skirt. It was just so plain. Putting on knee high socks, the same color of the skirt, and pristine white Air Force 1. (h/c) hair goes down your shoulders down to mid-back. Seeing there is really nothing to do with the plain outfit, you put on motorcycle proof clothes over the uniform. Going down to your vehicle, before driving towards your new school.

---

Driving towards school was a breeze. Weaving through the traffic is second nature for you. The only problem was, where to park your motorcycle. Pulling up the gate, before realizing, you never got directions where to put the bike.

*ding*

Pulling out your phone. Only to find a message from the principle.

Nezu: you may put your motorcycle inside the gate. Near the bike rack.

Sighing, you put your phone in the pocket of your pants, before wheeling the bike near the rack. Taking off the clothes you had to put on to avoid getting road rash, and putting them in the compartment in the seat. Taking off the helmet, and leaving your bike. Moving towards the door that has a big ‘1’ on it. Getting directions to class 1-A, you made it to the big door. About 20 minutes before school started, so there were very few people walking around the school. Knocking and opening the door, only to find Eraserhead.

‘Oh shit’

[cnidocyst]

Oh please do the other Ed's for headcanons!

today is a good day

- I know I already said this today, I just really love the headcanon that Edd idolized Eddy and approached him first and they became friends because Edd was the only person (who wasn’t Ed) who called Eddy cool and Eddy properly acknowledged Edd’s cool inventive skills, which was great for Edd because his parents tend to overlook Edd’s achievements. and overall they’re just so glad they met each other 

-not really a headcanon i just stand by the notion that edd does in fact get a thrill out of committing mischievous deeds

-as funny as it is to make jokes about edd’s parents pretending he doesn’t exist or whatever, i think edd’s parents mean well and love him a lot 

-Edd and Eddy both adopt Hawaiian shirt style full force eventually

-Older Edd also wears a lot of flannel

- Eddy grows maybe one inch at age 13 then never grows again. He eventually learns to accept it but it definitely made junior year hell watching everyone else growth spurt

-Edd sneaks coffee when his parents aren’t looking. Only drinks it black though 

-eddy hates coffee because according to him “it doesnt work right” because the effects don’t kick in until 5 hours later if at all

-Eddy is incredibly squeamish 

-edd totally curses but only when he’s alone

-edd would have pet rats if his parents let him. he doesn’t even necessarily want them for lab rat reasons he just thinks they’re neat

-im no house expert but the size of eddy’s room plus how it has a backdoor makes me wonder if his room was initially built to be a den or office but when eddy was born it was changed to his room.  

- eddy is scared of birds because he got chased and attacked by a goose once it was very upsetting to him 

-however eddy likes one bird. peacocks. he thinks theyre super stylish 

-whenever bohemian rhapsody comes on the radio, the eds all belt out singing it in unison. except only edd knows all the words

-i like the idea of during high school when the kankers have calmed down and matured some, Edd and Marie bond over their shared interest in robotics and mechanics. Ed and Eddy still don’t trust Marie but Edd finds her easy to vent to. even if most her responses to edd’s parents’ woes are “I’ll fight your parents for you” 

-also eddy is jealous that ed and edd have moved on from being tormented by may and marie while eddy cannot let it all go  

-adult edd sounds like samuel vincent era lloyd garmadon from ninjago a headcanon i totally am not taking from @pixybat

-the eds had a short lived garage band in high school where eddy was the singer, edd played an electric guitar, ed was drums. their equipment was absolutely homemade by double d 

-edd once lost eddy in a grocery store because eddy was being a rascal and wouldn’t sit still. edd grabbed the intercom mic and just said “eddy if you hear this I’m leaving without you” 

-boy did eddy come running fast back to the front

-eddy idolizes kevin because kev reminds him of his brother whether he wants to admit it to himself or not

-edd insists on him, ed, and eddy all studying together knowing full well it always ends in disaster. Edd was stubbornly hoping it would help improve their test scores eventually but after an incident where Edd snapped at Ed and Eddy for goofing off and stressing him out immensely, Ed and Eddy don’t want to study with him anymore. Even though Edd apologized a thousand times 

-edd had a black clothes phase albeit never went full emo or punk rock or anything

-edd collects pokemon cards

-edd and eddy both have a nervous tick where they’ll itch at their arms or neck. maybe it never happened in the show but i will absolutely insert it into my drawings

-eddy gets sleep paralysis sometimes and it freaks him the hell out. Edd and Ed are more interested in his experience stories than concerned for him

-eddy has trouble reading anything that isn’t double spaced. edd used to tease him over not being able to read but it got grating to eddy fast 

-even ed is better at reading than eddy and edd wasn’t afraid to use that against him 

-eddy will only read ed’s comic books if they’re having a sleepover at Ed’s and Eddy cannot sleep

-edd’s favorite non bug animals are seals and sea lions. he literally squeaks whenever he sees one, whether it be in a zoo, on TV, or in a ZooBooks™

[wri0thesley]

Special lewd post for the bday hubban please

Hey Nat! Hope your doing well! Can I get HCs or a Scenario of Speed with a super subby fem s/o giving and receiving oral for the first time. Ugh I love how rugged and dangerous but also loveable and kind Speedwagon is 😍

well, anon! this might not be super subby but it worked too well for his birthday so Here We Go! HAPPY BIRTHDAY MR SPEEDWAGON WE WUB YOU

Teaching A Lesson - Speedwagon/Fem Reader

NSFW, AFAB reader, fem pronouns, 2.5k.

You don’t know when your thoughts about Robert E. O. Speedwagon had turned from fear into desire; somewhere, perhaps, when you started smiling and blushing when he looked at you. When you’d realised that - though dangerous in his own right - he was only a danger to those who he thought deserved it. When his hand has brushed yours - even though your dainty gloves - and you’d caught his eye and he’d grinned at you, sending an unfamiliar shock through you that you’d realised when you’d gotten home and had stripped out of corsets and stockings was very much want. 

You had ended up, eventually, crushed against Robert’s bulk in an alley on the wrong side of London, his mouth on yours and his hands pulling your petticoats and skirts up around your hips. You had never imagined losing your virtue to a street rat in the public filth of a Whitechapel alleyway - but that was how it had happened, and when Robert had pulled out of you and kissed you on the mouth you had looked at him and thought; I am glad this is how it has happened. 

It’s hurried trysts, at first. Robert is not a man of fixed address, and there is only so long you can be away before the others you share your home with grow suspicious. Although you are far from a lady, you are at least respectable in the shared apartments above the dressmaker’s shop that you share with two of the other seamstresses. They have beaus - one of them is betrothed - but to be out at night alone with the object of your affection is unthinkable, lest your virtue be shattered before you can be shackled by wedding rings. 

That does not mean you do not want to spend a night together. And when Robert promises you a night in a real bed in a little room above a tavern that he’s staying in for a few weeks, you’re giddy. You tell the other girls that you’re staying with your sister whilst she’s visiting London, and though you see a brief flash of question in your eyes - you have never mentioned a sister - they accept your excuse, and you leave that evening with a neatly packed valise, you can barely stand how excited you are. 

The valise is not unpacked that first night, because Robert is on you in moments, seizing you about the waist and grinning at you, his handsome scarred face lit with adoration, murmuring your name as you’re tossed gently onto the bed and your body and his become one, over and over. You fall asleep with bare bodies tangled together, and you wake up in much the same way. 

You have all day to do whatever you and Robert wish - but as soon as his fingers trail whisper-soft across your bare hip and he leans in to ghost his lips over yours, his eyes glittering with something dangerous, you know exactly what you are wishing for for the rest of your sojourn. 

“How about,” you murmur, your own fingers running over his arms, stroking the ropes of scar tissue scattering his muscles, “we spend the entire day in luxury?” 

He grins. 

“I’m not one for luxury, love,” he says, his voice a purr - his accent would make the women who come into your shop turn tail and flee. For you, that grit just sets a fire low between your thighs. “I’m a man of simple tastes. Pretty bird, bit o’ cash--” He smirks. “And I’ve got both of those right now, in abundance.”

You smile back at him. 

“The luxury I’m talking about,” you whisper, leaning in, kissing a scar just above his heart he told you he earned in a knife fight. “Is the luxury of having time to learn one another’s bodies--”

Your words awaken something in Robert. There’s a flash of dark hunger in his eyes, and his tongue wets his lips and he looks at you. You feel flushed and warm beneath the gaze. 

“Well,” he says, his voice breathy. “There’s been something I’ve been thinking of teaching you about.” 

You keep eye contact, biting your lip. 

“I’m more than willing to learn.” 

“I’m very happy to hear that.”

And he’s on you with his mouth, kissing your neck, suckling blue-purple bruises into your throat, his fingers stroking over your bare skin. Even without going anywhere near the ache between your thighs, you feel heat and slick gather there - although you and he haven’t explored much further than quick and desperate tumbles, he knows where you’re sensitive. He knows which parts of your body make you light on fire when he brushes with his fingertips, and which places make you moan weakly - and by the time he’s spreading your legs, settling further down on the uncomfortable bed so that he’s positioned firmly between them, you’re putty in his hands. 

You’re always willing to follow his orders, of course. Something about submitting to him - a man who ought to be below you and yet commands so much power and presence, who is equal parts carnality and danger - always has your knees trembling. 

“Look at how gorgeous you are,” Robert growls, his eyes studying that place where your legs are parted with hunger, like you’re a meal he’s excited to devour. “Oh, you’re going to be a treat to taste, love.”

Your face flushes warmer. You-- you couldn’t have heard that right, could you?

“T-taste?” You stammer, and Robert lifts his head lazily to look at your embarrassed face. He chuckles - a low sound that makes you want to squirm - as one of his hands lands heavy and comforting on your bare thigh. 

“Aww, love. You ain’t never had anybody use their mouth on you before?” His smile is wicked, and then he suddenly widens his eyes comically, feigning surprise. “Oh, of course! You ain’t ever had anybody but me, have you? Don’t you worry, love. I’ll enjoy teaching you this one.”

Before you can respond to that, he’s dove between your thighs, tongue and mouth hungrily lapping at your slick like he’s been deprived to not be allowed to do this to you yet. You know that this is one of those things that’s supposed to be sinful and wrong - but with the wet heat of his tongue toying with your clit and circling your entrance and drinking you in, you can’t imagine why unless it’s because of how sinfully good it feels--

One of your hands tangles in his riot of wild golden curls, your face - still pink with a mixture of embarrassment and desire - peeking up to look at him. And oh, that sight of him with his head bent and his tongue working, scarred face gorgeous in how hard he’s concentrating on you and eyes blown with desire at the same time . . . a moan tears from your throat and a shock of pleasure goes through you as you’re forced to rest your head back and concentrate on nothing more than Robert’s well-practised tongue as it lavishes attention upon every inch of your sex. 

The hand still on your thigh creeps down, and you whimper and shift, gladly spreading your legs further apart as you feel his thumb nudge at the entrance to your sex. As he slides slowly in, his tongue moves attention higher, to the pink nub of your clit where it is swollen to attention - and as he suckles on that, your hips twitch helplessly towards the warmth. 

Every nerve in your body feels as though it has been lit aflame; it always feels like this when Robert and you make love, but at the same time it never truly feels like this. There’s something far more intimate about his mouth on you, a shock of knowledge that what he is doing would be shunned in other circles - and it’s partly that creeping feeling of shame that makes the way he plays your body with his mouth feel so delicious. 

One, two, three strokes of his thumb combined with rhythmic sucking on your clit pushes you over the edge, and you do not bother to hide the wail of pleasure that issues forth from your mouth as your peak washes over you in waves. Robert’s tongue slows, guiding you through the final aftershocks of your pleasure, but pulling away before it can be too much for you. You blink up at him, dazed, as your lover wipes his mouth with his hand. The entire lower half of his face is wet with your slick, and that sight . . . oh, that sight sends a fresh pulse of desire over you, though your own aftershocks have barely receded. 

“You were noisy, love,” Robert says, grinning. “Have I got t’find something to keep that mouth of yours out of trouble?”

He gathers himself onto his knees, and you’re made very aware that he’s enjoyed having his mouth on you just as much as you’ve enjoyed it by the state of his cock, flushed and standing proud. You bite your lip, avoiding his gaze. 

“M-maybe,” you breathe, with a good idea of how exactly he plans on making sure you’re quiet. 

“C’mere, love,” Robert says, crooking a finger, settling himself on the edge of the bed. You crawl over to him and he chuckles. “No, not here. On the floor on your knees, sweetheart.”

The pet names are soft, but there’s still a steel behind everything Robert says that has you glad to be on your knees instead of standing before him with them trembling in anticipation. When you’re settled in place before him, he smiles and runs a hand over your own face, your eyes locked with his. 

“What do you think I’m going to ask you to do?” He asks, his smile suddenly looking far more wicked than before. “My lady! Who’s never ‘ad the pleasure of being fucked with a man’s tongue. What d’you think I’m gonna ask you to do with your pretty mouth?”

Your face feels pink with embarrassment, your eyes level with the hard length of his cock. He cocks one eyebrow at you, waiting for your answer - and though it’s an effort to force the words past your lips, you whisper:

“I--I’m going to use them on y-your-- c-cock--”

Speedwagon laughs heartily. 

“Then do it, love,” he says, his voice husky, as you lean forward. “I’m not going t’hurt you. I wouldn’t go through all that trouble just to off you now! Just take it in your hand and suck it--”

You’re not embarrassed to be naked in front of him. You’re not embarrassed that he made you come, that he’s been inside you, that you see him and can barely wait to drop your petticoats - you are embarrassed that you’ve never done this before, and you have no idea how good you might be at it. You don’t want to disappoint Robert!

“Don’t worry,” he says, as if he senses your fear spiking in the air. The hand on your face cups your chin, pulling you close, and you hesitantly raise a hand to wrap around the shaft of his cock. At the feel of your fingers on him, he breathes out low and slow. “You won’t break me. I’ve had worse.”

You press a kiss to the tip of his cockhead, pink and ruddy, beading with precome even now. Hesitantly, you give a kitten lick to that bubble of his arousal, and his breath hisses out through his teeth. Fascinated by the sound, you lick again, and as you see muscles in his thighs jump, you decide to take the bull by the horns and let your entire mouth open, working his length in slowly so as not to overwhelm yourself. 

Robert groans out your name, thighs trembling - one of his hands comes to rest very lightly on your head, and though you can tell that he clearly wants to fuck your mouth with abandon, he holds himself back whilst you explore the feeling of having a man in your mouth for the very first time. The taste of him is musky and salty - unusual, but not unpleasant - and you envelope more of his cock into your mouth, taking him as far as you can comfortably go. It’s still only about halfway, but as you hollow your cheeks and lick at the shaft you do have in your mouth, you develop a kind of rhythm with where your hand is gripping his cock to ensure none of him feels left out. 

Robert’s breathing is heavy and erratic as you fall into a rhythm - as you bob your head and suck and lick, your cheeks hollowed. Your eyes do not leave Robert’s own face - he’s flushed with pleasure and his eyes are dark and big as they drink in the sight of his pretty prim lover on her knees on the floor, his cock in her mouth. 

Much like when his mouth was buried in that most private part of you, something about the taboo of what you’re doing sends thrills through your spine. Robert groans, his hips rocking into your mouth - and though you know this is probably far from the first time he’s had someone on their knees for him, you can’t help but feel that the lure of despoiling someone so otherwise pure is an aphrodisiac to him just the same. 

“Faster,” he manages, and his voice has a crack in it that you know means he’s not far off his own peak. You redouble your efforts - your tongue covering more ground, your hand faster, your head bobbing on his shaft with a renewed purpose. You find that you want him, desperately, to tell you that you’ve done well--

His eyes squeeze shut, his hips thrusting erratically, all of his control slipping as he chases his release and fucks into your mouth - and when he does come, the twitch of his cock alerts you to make sure you’re ready for the salty rush of his seed as it fills your mouth. Your eyes widen but you take it, letting the ropes of his release paint your mouth. 

Breathing heavily, he slides his cock out of your mouth, looking down at you with warmth suffusing his gaze. You swallow the milky mess he filled your mouth with, and he lets out a shuddering breath that you know is both admiration and desire. 

“You’re perfect, love.” He says, sounding dazed - and you get the impression that, if nothing else, you succeeded in one place. You certainly didn’t embarrass yourself by not being good at that, did you?

You imagine, from the way that your body is already throbbing with want, that it won’t be the last time you use your mouth on Robert. In fact, as he beckons you up and pulls you into a kiss, perching you on his knee, you can already feel his cock stirring - and you’re certainly ready for a round two. 

You have the full day ahead of you, after all - and a whole night.