#Let's presume this is the moment that made him evil or something

[kjzx]

H. Huh

Pspspsps Harlan I have a nice idea for you I'm sure the fans are gonna LOVE this

[tropicalcryptid]

Ok so She-Ra pulled such a great hat trick with Hordak's characterization, and I LOVE it

One of my favorite things about 2018 She-Ra is Hordak's story and development (and Entrapdak cough but that's not the point of this particular post), and the cleverest thing is that so much of it is actually being set up and told to us in seasons 1 and 2 before we even realize that that's what's happening.

When we first see Hordak in the show, he's giving "generic evil overlord" vibes. Garden-variety baddie. Maybe a little more reasonable than some and clearly capable of long-term thinking, but that just serves to make him intimidating. Everything about him--the way he runs his empire, his armor, his color scheme, his minion, his Villainous Eye Makeup(TM), even his name--are all projecting to the audience "yup, Acme Bad Guy here. Move right along."

But then, backstory. And everything snaps into focus. Not only is it one of the first big oh SHIT moments of the show, where we suddenly zoom out and realize that there is SO much more going on than we realized--it's also the start of the audience seeing Hordak as a character rather than an archetype. Suddenly we realize that he's not conquering Etheria because he wants power, or hates happiness and sparkles, or whatever--he's doing it out of a desperate attempt to prove his worth to his brother/creator/god. This moment where Hordak lets Entrapta in is also the moment the show lets us in on what makes our favorite spacebat tick.

On top of that, we've also seen him bonding with Entrapta and opening up to this person that he respects and trusts...probably the only person he's ever respected or trusted apart from Prime. And she's Etherian--someone of a lower species, someone he's supposed to subjugate, someone who he has been raised and trained and programmed and mind-controlled into believing is below him in every way.

But instead she's brilliant and creative and mesmerizing. She's not afraid of him, and she's fascinated with his work. For the first time since being abandoned by Prime, Hordak finally has someone that he can talk to, who is on his level and both understands and cares about the science! (because he is a giant nerd). She's kind to him, a mere defect. And it just sends his whole worldview into a spin, and that's all before--

Bam, mans is a goner. Entrapta's "Imperfections are beautiful" comment punches right through all the toxic bs that Hordak has been steeped in his entire life. You can see on his face here--I think it's the moment Hordak fell in love with Entrapta, but this is also the face of a spacebat reevaluating his entire worldview. If Entrapta, who is amazing, believes something different from Prime...what does that mean? If Entrapta, who is brilliant, believes that he is worth something, and that she herself is a failure...

Well. We know what happens after that, and how Hordak begins to doubt, and eventually fights back against Prime (and remembers his love for Entrapta after TWO mind wipes help my heart ack). But we also get to see what life in the Galactic Horde looks like: the only life Hordak ever knew before coming to Etheria.

It's not nice.

It's really not nice.

Prime operates in a very specific way, and we learn a lot about it in season 5. Prime expects complete obedience, devotion and worship from his clones. He allows no individuality from his subjects, not even a name. Failure or deviations are punished, mind-wiped, or destroyed. We even learn from Wrong Hordak that facial expressions are considered a privilege reserved for Prime (apart from, presumably, expressions of rapture caused by being around Prime).

And once we learn all of this, suddenly thinking about season 1 Hordak becomes very interesting indeed. The time we spend with the Galactic Horde and Prime throws absolutely everything that we know about Hordak into a whole new context. Now all those traits that made him a generic villain are actually hugely effective characterization! And what that characterization is telling us is that Hordak had already moved much farther away from Prime than we (or, probably, he) had realized, even long before he met Entrapta.

Horde Prime does not allow his underlings to have names, personalities, or any differences of appearance. Not only does Hordak allow this among his own troops, he chose a name for himself as well! Season 5 tells us that his very name is an act of blasphemy against his god. And yet Hordak took one for himself, and that name is part of the core identity he is able to hold on to when rebelling against Prime.

Horde Prime cast Hordak out when he showed signs of physical imperfections. Hordak not only keeps Imp (who is by all appearances a failed clone or similar experiment) around, he treats Imp more gently than we see him treat anybody or anything before Entrapta. Imp is not simply "generic evil guy's minion," he is proof of Hordak's capacity for compassion, and evidence that Hordak cannot bring himself to cast aside "defects" as easily as Prime. Considering where Hordak came from, Imp's existence is a huge, flashing neon sign telling the audience this guy here is better than the hell that molded him, and we don't even realize it until 4 seasons after it's been shown to us!

Very cool, ND.

There's more, though. Hordak's red and black color scheme? His dark eye makeup and lipstick? Very Evil Overlord chic. But nope! Actually these are actually expressions of individuality on a level that Hordak knows would be abhorrent to Prime!

Reading between the lines, I see this as Hordak desperately trying to reconcile two diametrically opposed beliefs in his head: (1) devotion to Prime, whose approval he desperately craves, and (2) maintaining some degree of unique personhood, of Hordak, from which to draw strength. Because a failed, defective clone cannot survive on a hostile world, cut off from the hivemind and from Prime's light. A failed clone cannot create an empire to offer Prime as tribute, nor build a spacetime portal from scraps and memory to call Prime back. A failed clone cannot create cybernetic armor to keep his hurting, weakened body alive; to force himself to keep going no matter what, to fight through the pain and the doubt by sheer force of will.

But maybe Hordak can.

And so there it is. Hordak had plenty of time to gain and explore his individuality while separated from Prime, but I think the reason he did it so effectively (while still deluding himself that Prime would forgive him for these little sins, if only Hordak could prove his value) is because he had to.

Wrong Hordak gained his individuality surrounded by kind, quirky people who took care of him; Hordak was ripped from the hivemind by Prime himself and had to fight for his survival against all odds. And that produced a dangerous and damaging foe for Etheria. But it also produced the one clone with the strength of will to defy Prime himself.

This is long and rambling, but ultimately my point is that 1) I love Hordak, and 2) I love love love love that the show was so clever about his characterization. We learn so much about him and how much progress he's already made in breaking from his psycho abusive cult upbringing, and we don't even recognize it until the show wants us to. Hordak had come so far, all on his own, before he met Entrapta. She just helped push him over the edge and finally realize (at least consciously) that Prime's worldview might not be the correct one.

Idk, I just don't know if I've ever seen all the trappings of Basic 80's Villain(TM) so successfully subverted, where looking back 4 seasons later is actually a smack in the face with the "effective character building" stick. Amazing.

[eroguron0nsense]

The Mysterious Mysteries of Mr Sir Crocodile (Character Analysis)

(Apologies in advance for discrepancies from my usual tone and for holding off on everyone who voted for this on my last poll. Honest to God I hope y'all enjoy this in some capacity because I've been procrastinating on this meta so long it's derailed ALL my other One Piece writing and I only accomplished it through addy-fuelled mania)

This was such a fucking pain to write. I really wanted to say something about Crocodile and what makes him so fascinating that wasn't like, another fan theory or just a set of headcanons, but that's easier said than done?? We could boil it down to immaculate design, screen presence, attitude, or just the fact that he got brought back as an unlikely ally who shocked everyone by saving the protagonist, but I don't know that those factors in and of themselves make for a villain who's become such an object of fandom obsession.

Whatever it is, it's certainly not backstory or depth, because 24 years and hundreds and hundreds of chapters after his introduction, we still know nothing about Sir Crocowani's past beyond a vague confrontation with the Late Great Edward Newgate (that apparently like, ruined his dreams or something?), and some totally-not-just-a-threat-to-out-him-if-he-betrayed-the-alliance blackmail material the Queen of the Queers is holding over his sandy reptilian ass. I was born and grew into adulthood in the time it took Oda to tell the world fuck all about where he's from or his inner thoughts, or his actual honest motivations and traumas.

All we have about this character are questions. Why did he save Luffy and Ace –very conspicuously after both of their lineages were revealed to the world– against all logic and reason? Does he have ties to the revolutionaries? Is he the long-lost son of Rocks D. Xebec? Did he bounce on Comrade Dragon's Monkey D and squirt out the fucking Warrior of Liberation? I assume Oda's going to tell us more about him, but at this point, he's managed to keep a tighter lid on Sir Crocs, Inc.'s past than the fucking Secret History

You may be wondering, dear reader: what the fuck is my point? What is there, at this final stage of Long Running Pirate Manga, for me–Frankie EroGuroNonsense, OP Tumblr Community Z-lister with like, 7 mildly popular meta posts under my belt–to write about the legendary Sir Krokorok that hasn't already been said or theorized? What eagle-eyed observations did I make while rereading Alabasta and writing toxic Crobin fanfic? Am I going anywhere with this? Sorta. Yeah.

Let's start with listing things we actually know about Crockpot, in roughly chronological (??) order: –attended Gol D.'s execution way back when he was my age, along with anyone else who's anyone from his generation.

–At some point, met and was known well enough by Iva that she could effectively blackmail him

–Made it far enough on the Grand Line, somehow getting to the New World, and managed to pick up an 81,000,000 bounty (low end for a warlord, presumably scouted fairly early in his career)

–Wanted to be Pirate King until he gave up on it, not 100% explicitly confirmed but most likely due to getting his ass beat so badly by Whitebeard that he settled for picking off small fry and racketeering behind a government desk job. This makes him profoundly relatable to the rest of us depressed fucking losers who acquiesce to our own mediocrity.

–At 30, after presumably licking his wounds for a hot minute, sets up shop in Alabasta, comes up with a clever evil plan to quietly build up enough arms to conquer the world with a WMD, and then gets his years-long bioterrorist coup attempt foiled by a 17-year-old.

The rest we know: after a brief moment of glory as the unsung MVP of Impel Down/Marineford, he immediately reverts to Failguy Mode, gives all his money to a literal clown, and consequently gets roped into the neverending uncontrollable PR nightmare that is Cross Guild. It's still super vague and we know little to nothing about his past before the Alabasta Saga (for all we know he had a fling with King Cobra)

...Onto his personality and mannerisms. This shit's a lot more revealing. Superficially, he's everything: immaculate Bond villain levels of charismatic villainy, unbelievably ostentatious, dripped out like a Pimp, constantly smoking cigars, absolutely dripping with smugness and grease and disdain. Owns exotic pets and a giant casino, and spends every waking moment either grinning like a maniac when he's got the upper hand or storming around in a fucking mood when anything goes mildly wrong.

He's also pretty hardened underneath all that, obviously couldn't have lived a day on the grand line or survived Impel Down Torture otherwise. But even in Alabasta, Crockery gives off an air of being distinctly more grounded and willing to get his hands dirty than other flashy, established villains who flaunt their wealth and status. A big part of it is just his really hyper-masculine indomitable tough guy persona, but even early on he's very much micromanaging his operation, fighting people hand to hand in (as opposed to, say, Doffy, who literally puppeteers people while lounging around) and makes a point to keep almost all of his followers at a distance and rely on them as little as possible. He rants a bit about how dreams and whatnot are pointless follies, as One Piece antagonists tend to do, and repeatedly taunts Vivi about how her idealism can't save her, but with the context that he wanted to find Laughtale himself, it feels a lot like projection.

The character trait that's harped on a LOT in canon, and probably the most pertinent one to whatever demons he has, is Croconaw's profound pathological distrust for everyone around him. It's a huge part of what makes him a good early foil to the Nefertari family and the Straw Hats, whose collective strength is derived from organic human connection; Crocalor, by contrast, makes sure that up until the very last moment, he keeps most of his people so distant from him that they genuinely have no idea he's even their boss. His relationship with Robin is interesting, but he turns on her immediately when he realizes she either can't or won't give him the location of Pluton and has his dramatic stabbing/"I forgive you" lines about how he never trusted her or anyone from the start. He says the same shit to Mihawk when he suggests they join forces, even citing their mutual distrust as a kind of paradoxical justification for why they'd actually work well together.

Arguably the only exception is Daz Bones, but even that relationship is still a pretty reserved one; one of the few traits Daz exhibits is a similar avoidance of human connections to his boss and even though they've ironically formed a bond despite it, I can't imagine that they're emotionally close. I find these more explicit declarations of paranoia a lot less indicative of what's actually going on in Croconut's head than subtext, but I feel inclined to mention them just because it more or less tells us that his background/trauma has something to do either with betrayal or alternatively just being jaded and deprived to the point of self-isolation.

Krookodile's character gets a little bit more interesting when we get to see him again in Impel Down being a smug little manipulative rascal right up until he gets blackmailed by his endocrinologist, which is definitely medical malpractice but also funny as hell. I also appreciate that literally the first thing he does after getting out of his cell is change into a big coat and cravat to keep up appearances, but it's not until Marineford proper that things get really complicated. Saving Luffy and Ace is the first selfless thing we see Crobat do–while yelling at Luffy that he needs to protect what matters to him properly, no less– and he just keeps fighting for them after that, teaming up with his most hated rival crew to cover Luffy's retreat and telling the entire WG to go fuck itself multiple times over. He fights everyone on sight with no regard for his own safety, talks mad shit to Doffy, and demonstrates a genuinely compelling amount of honest to god chivalry.

For a short time, we see Crocomotive less as a really entertaining cartoon villain and more as a person with hidden, profound emotions and a confusing moral code that's seemingly incompatible with the vicious little creature we met in Alabasta. We come to understand, in a few very brief lines that give us way more questions than answers, that Cromagnon has deep-seated, emotional convictions he actively suppresses, and that whatever baggage he has is probably tied to wanting to or failing to save something of his own. His resentment of Newgate, who he really really wants to have a go at (despite theoretically no longer caring about the ambitions of his youth) is indicative of a desire to revisit the fight that probably ruined his dream and ego, but it's also tinged with a deep-seated grudging respect for a living legend.

Crock–Afire Explosion's obvious seething hatred of Doffy also gives us a few more insights into what's wrong with him. On a surface level, it makes sense that he dislikes a profoundly obnoxious, even flashier fellow warlord who achieved more or less the same goal he set out to in a shorter time, fucks with his business, and then mocks him/tries to recruit him right after his very public defeat and imprisonment. He postures a lot, especially with his lines insisting he's on a higher level and that Doffy could only ever join him as a subordinate, but he's visibly steamed in their initial encounter and clearly hasn't liked him for quite some time. I bring this up because if we stretch our interpretation a little (for the sake of my argument), Croc Holliday's distaste for someone who's (outwardly) so much like himself and embodies all of his villainous characteristics from back in Alabasta might also suggest that deep down, he doesn't actually like the things they have in common; he sees right through Doffy because he's done the same shit and he hates what he sees.

Having gone over all that, I've come up with some key characteristics of Crocomelon that I'll use going forward:

–Extremely performative: puts an ungodly amount of energy into maintaining a carefully curated persona, and projecting a certain amount of power, masculinity, and prestige. Not necessarily an unnatural or inauthentic one, but a constructed and purposeful one nonetheless

–Deep-seated paranoia, hidden secrets; probably intertwined. Keeps personal details on tight, tight lockdown, probably afraid of being known.

–Constant projection of his own insecurities and failures onto other people, making a point to be uniquely cruel in Alabasta to an idealist who loves her people and a dreamer who wants to be the Pirate King.

Ironically, he demonstrably respects and defends two people–Luffy and Whitebeard–who theoretically embody everything he hates or scorns (ambition, goodness, love, connection, romanticism, greatness in the traditional sense) and he intensely dislikes the villain most like himself, or at least the one who shares a lot of his worst characteristics (ostentatious manipulative scheming rat bastard backed by people stronger than himself) –The Grinch's heart grew three sizes at Marineford because of like, the compelling power of brotherly love and reminders of his youth or something

SPECULATION, CONCLUSIONS??

The difficulty with writing anything definitive about Crocko's Basilisk is that he's such a mystery, which functionally lets the fanbase project literally whatever weird personality traits, potential backstories, or anything else they could possibly come up with onto him. So I want to be clear that I have absolutely no interest in theorizing about the specifics of his past or secret identity or potential baby daddy or anything along those lines; I'm only interested in what we can infer about his personality by extrapolating from canon. And the conclusion I keep coming back to, the one that I'm convinced is true on some level, is that Crocodile is living a lie and he fucking hates himself. Everything he does, from how he acts to what he claims to believe, is a desperate effort to cope with his own insecurity and failure and cover up a past version of himself he's deeply ashamed of.

Now, unfortunately, Oda did not conceive of Crocodile as a trans man but stories belong to the people and we can do what we want let's forget about that and play it straight because he's constantly performing gender as a means of compensating for a deep-seated shame and self-loathing from whatever traumas and secrets he keeps hidden. Even assuming he's a cis man, he deliberately chooses a hypermasculine persona with a Capital V Villain moniker and pimp outfit and speech pattern he's carefully curated to project masculine power–physical, political, and financial–and we know it's performance because we see him break kayfabe and get legitimately fucking angry whenever he's confronted by a person like Luffy, who's crazy and brave enough to try and do what he couldn't and risk everything for love and hope that he cannot bring himself to feel for another person, or reminders of the past he tries so desperately to bury.

The lessons he's wrongfully obtained from his past are as follows: Idealism is a weakness. Dreaming is a weakness. Connections to other people and being known are crippling liabilities (If he is, in fact, trans and closeted, that's all the more reason to be existentially disgusted by what he used to be). All the hope he brought to the Grand Line, all the excitement of trying to carry on where Roger left off, needs to be purged and buried because all he got to show for it was loss and humiliation. But he can't stop wanting more, and ironically, after he gives up on conquering the Grand Line, he ends up chasing the same fucking poneglyphs and weapons because his ambition's still there; it's just compromised and much more jaded.

Everything he does that's seemingly contradictory makes sense when you realize that Crocodile resents his failure and wants to avenge himself. He makes a big show of talking down to Luffy and Vivi's petty ideals and shit-talking Newgate and his family, but he still wants to fight Whitebeard like he did way back when and help Luffy protect what matters to him. He hates Doffy, who's honestly just a more successful schemer than he is because it's a constant reminder of what he settled for when he took that warlord post and fucking gave up. He claims to trust no one, but he keeps Daz by his side and rewards his loyalty because he can't help but trust someone who respects him so deeply and follows him to the ends of the fucking earth long after losing the material incentive to do so. He claims to look down on people who aim for the stars and fight for love and joy and freedom and yet, in his most vulnerable moments–not in the face of violence or imprisonment, but when he's emotionally compelled to defend a child and help save his brother–we see how badly he wants that for himself.

TLDR: Crockman Holic is deeply insecure in his masculinity, desperately needs psychological help, and his character/potential redemption arc in One Piece is just dealing with his midlife crisis.

[so-much-for-the-seashells]

This doesn’t get a title because I’m confused

Disclaimers: The only character I own is the reader insert!

Author’s Notes: I think I got possessed, I don’t even like Sam 😭 like in the slightest 😭

But pretend season 8ish Sam has season 2-3’s hair for the sake of that’s the season I’m on lol.

Icons by @gosling-girlx !! She’s a genius!

Anyway, all notes are appreciated!

Content/Content Warnings: 18+ ONLY! Minors do not interact, this is NOT for you.

This fic is extremely spicy, sort of can’t-stand-each-other sex. Reader’s AFAB & uses she/her pronouns, only physical description is of her being shorter than Sam. There’s oral (both m and f receiving) and unprotected piv which frankly only exists in the books- wrap it before you tap it!! Oh also they’re both pretty mean to each other… you’ll see.

Again, I think I got possessed when I made it-I sincerely can’t stand him- but hope you enjoy it!

**************************************************** Working with the Winchester Brothers is a gig like no other. Cas and I are more tagalongs in the operation these days, Cas demoted to resident healer and I to stay at home mom, apparently.

One accident (authors note: one possession & a year long recovery for a spinal injury retained from said possession) had apparently rendered me useless to the boys. It’s not all bad- I’m relatively close with the older one, Dean, since we’re both hoes for a good time and good movies/music. And before the accident, I was happy to kill evil sons-of-bitches with Dean any day of the week.

And of course, Castiel is a right sweetheart- showing him new human things is the sweetest experience in the whole wide world.

But you know what ruins the laughs and the nice moments? The younger brother. Sam “Little Shit” Winchester.

I don’t know how he found himself upon the moral pedestal he crafted for himself, but lord I want to remove his kneecaps and slap him with them. Little baby giraffe looking shit.

I don’t like the way he acts, plain and simple. Between the way that he treats Dean and the way that he talks so condescendingly to me- I’m about two seconds from starting a fight every time we’re in a room together for too long. He seems to feel the same way. It’s helpful in a hunt- both of us are smart enough to concentrate that anger towards our monster of the week instead of each other in the field- but now, when there’s no field to take the anger out on? Dean’s had to break up at least 3 almost-fights, and I’ve only been back on my feet for a couple months.

***

The boys looked especially pissy coming home today- they’d grumbled something about a “stupid fucking vampire bitch,” and went their separate ways, Sam to the med bay and Cas trailing Dean like a golden retriever.

Great. Looks like I’m on Douchebag Duty.

***

“What’s your problem?” Sam snaps as I tug the thread on his stitches a little too roughly.

“My problem, you dick? I’m the one that’s stitching you up right now, why don’t I just let you bleed out?” I retort, yanking on the surgical needle with the string attached to a particularly nasty cut on his upper arm. Cut’s an understatement- it’s really a bullet wound. I’m just too proud to have pity for the jackass.

“Yeah, your problem!”

I set down the needle at that, my fists clenched at my sides. “You’re a whiny little bitch who can’t sit still and shut the fuck up for two minutes! That’s my problem.”

“I think you’re a little too high and mighty there, princess,” he scowls, standing up to full height, presumably so that he can use his stature to literally look down at me.

“Yeah? Look who’s talking, Mr Morals,” I seethe, staring up at him. I snatch the needle, on my tiptoes, and hastily finish the stitching on his scar, while standing up.

“Out,” I spit as I cut the thread.

“No,” he retorts, glancing down at me through long lashes and stupidly overgrown bangs.

“What? Is five minutes away from your big head too much to ask?” my hands are on my hips. I refuse to give him the satisfaction of staring up at him, so I stare at whatever’s eye level. He’s wearing a bloodied white tank top, which is not doing much for the whole vibe we’ve got going on right now.

He bites his lower lip, still looking down through his annoyingly long lashes. And my dumb ass is attracted to it, apparently.

“Get. Out,” I say, anger laced in my words.

“No,” he says through clenched teeth. I start to turn away, as if giving up, before pulling a Dean Winchester and turning back around on my heel, punching him in the abdomen. He grunts, keeling over. “Ow!”

“You should’ve listened, you ass,” I say, looking down at him. He looks pathetic, his eyes gone wide and pretty in pain. I shouldn’t be into this, not one bit.

Keeled over, Sam is at eye level. Our gazes lock, his hazel eyes boring holes into mine, searching for something. I don’t dare waver, looking back at him with just as much intensity until he surprises me, leaning in and crashing his lips to mine. He roughly grabs my face, holding me close as he forces his tongue into my mouth, exploring. I hate how easily I give him access, I hate the way I let out a gasp against my will. By the time he pulls away I’m already leaning back in. He smirks, humoring me for one more kiss.

“How do you like me now?” he says cockily, lips plush and pink from the kisses, hazel eyes blown out by lust.

“I don’t,” I mutter, pushing him back so that he’s forced to sit on the med bay bed. His legs are spread wide, and of course I fit perfectly between them, much to my distaste. I kiss his jawline, using mostly my teeth so that it scratches as I go, especially once I start on his neck, biting and sucking dark marks everywhere I see fit. He’s into it, little breathy whimpers further fueling my unfortunate attraction to him.

“Take off your shirt,” I tell him, stepping back and smirking at how this time he leans into my touch instead of the other way around. He thoughtlessly pulls the hem of the ruined fabric over his head, throwing it to the side, exposing an obnoxiously fit physique and an anti possession tattoo. There’s little scars everywhere, and something deep down urges me to kiss every single one of them, but that can be later.

“Take off yours,” he tells me.

“Why?” I ask, trying to play smart.

“Cause if I have to be shirtless you do too,” he says.

“Says who?”

“Says me.”

“Better think of a better retort next time, Winchester,” I say as I take off the oversized concert tee I had been wearing.

“Bra too,” he orders, cocking his head to the side as he looks me over.

“Who made you the boss?” I ask, already unclasping my bra.

“I did,” he says, far too cocksure.

“We’ll see about that,” I grin, letting the lacy fabric fall to the ground as I lean in to kiss his damnable hot mouth. This time I take control, taking pride in the little noises he makes.

“I’m gonna suck your dick,” I say crudely, not bothering with pleasantries.

“Go right on ahead,” and I can tell there was meant to be spite behind those words, but it quickly fades away into sighs as I start kissing down his pecs, his abs, lightly scratching anywhere I can find with my nails. I hate how hot the heat between my thighs is, but at this point, I can’t help it, especially as I sink to my knees, nose perfectly level with his crotch.

I take his belt into my hands, grazing over the obvious tent that lies underneath it. He throws his head back at that, biting back a curse.

“What’s the matter Sammy?” I tease.

“Shut up,” he grumble, words morphing into a proper moan as I graze over the tent again.

“Uh huh,” I agree, tugging off his leather belt and yanking down the zipper of his jeans.

“Boxers? I had taken you for a ‘Tighty Whities’ girl, Sammy,” I mused, doing my best to work him up even more.

“Sto-,” he starts, immediately losing his words as I free his cock from his confines, pulling his boxers down to his knees.

You know, just cause a guy’s a big guy doesn’t always mean that everything’s proportionate. Sam’s six foot five-ish, long and lanky with lean muscle. And naturally, because everything about him is meant to spite me, his dick also fits the physical bill. My mouth waters, and the only prospect that excites my overly-horny self more than having it in my mouth is having it in my slick soaked pussy. And I will, if I have anything to say about it.

“Oh Sammy, you’re a big boy, huh,” I taunt, running a hand up and down his shaft slowly. He moans in agreement, no more fight left in him. It’s too easy.

I let go of it, ignoring the bead of pre cum leaking down as I move to kiss his thighs, grazing my teeth on them like I did on his neck. He seems to like it, legs moving in towards my mouth. Finally I move my mouth towards where he obviously wants me most, rubbing the bead over his tip with my thumb. I’m a little wary about taking the whole thing, but I’m sure as hell going to try.

I start simple, kitten lips around the base, licking a long stripe up the underside before wrapping my lips around the head, and he moans, a little too loudly. I brace my hands on his thighs before taking a deep breath through my nose and forcing myself down far enough that my nose is touching neatly trimmed hair. Thankfully my gag reflex is still gone-it’s been a minute- as I hold him there for a moment, before starting to bob my head up and down, testing the waters. He whimpers and whines, and it’s pathetic, and I’m far too into it, unable to do much else than keep up my ministrations.

One of his big hands find the back of my head, fingers weaving into my hair. I don’t think he does so with intent of forcing me to move, but the idea is so hot that I lock eyes with him with my mouth on his cock.

“What? You want me to fuck your mouth?” he asks, panting. And once he says it out loud I get impossibly wetter, and I moan yes, unable to nod at all with him buried as far as he’ll go.

“Damn, you’re a slut,” he grins, and I moan in agreement before he starts moving my head slowly. Forward and back, forward and back, before I lock eyes with him and he gets the hint to take it harder, hips starting to thrust meeting my throat as his hands push. I just keep sucking, doing my best not to choke as involuntary tears leak out. But it doesn’t hurt, not at all. If anything I’m just doing all I can to not start rubbing on my own sensitive spots.

Before I know it his whimpers get louder and his whines get needier, and he grits out “I- I’m going to-“

So I release him with a pop, taking a hand and rubbing up and down his length furiously before he bursts. Once he does, with the most pathetic whimper yet, I get my mouth right back on him, taking every drop of his hot release down my throat. When he’s done I stay there, opening his mouth so he can see that there’s nothing there.

“God, you’re such a slut,” he mutters, echoing what he said before as he catches his breath and pulls me up by the hair- gently.

I shrug cockily, moving back as he stands up.

“Strip and have a seat,” he lazily demands as he puts his perfect cock away.

I roll my eyes but comply, taking off my remaining clothes so that I’m left in all my glory.

“You’re gorgeous, y’know that?” he compliments, a moment of tenderness as he crowds me against the bed so that I’ll take a seat. I blush, letting him hoist me up so that my ass is on the edge of the dinghy bed. “My turn,” he grumbles, voice low and hot against the column of my neck. He’s even rougher than I was, nipping at every square inch of skin that he meets, sucking dark marks down the side of my neck and over the tops of my breasts. I’m like a bitch in heat, responding to every touch in ways I can’t control- pornographic moans, leaning into his touch. He’s pulling on my hair to give himself more access, and I’m starting to worry that I’m soaking the bed. His mouth continues to work wonders, especially as he travels southwards, playing with my breasts.

He’s mean, outright biting the one and pinching the other, and it’s just what I need. I tangle my hands into his annoyingly long hair and tugging, not missing the way he moans into my chest.

Finally, finally, he gets down on his knees. He rests his chin on the bed, breath heavy on my heat. The sight of his head pillowed on my thighs as he looks up at me with those puppy dog, blown out eyes is enough to get me to come on the spot.

“This all f’me, princess?” he asks roughly, collecting some of the gratuitous wetness on two long, thick fingers.

“N-no,” I stammer, clutching his hair tighter. He bites back his moan in favor of a smug grin.

“N-no,” he mocks, turning to the side to bite the inside of my thigh, and I whine. “Uh huh, that’s what I thought.” His nose is eye level with my clit, and the only warning I get before he dives into my pussy is a small smirk that meets his hazel eyes.

“Fuck!”

He moans in between my thighs, setting my entire body on fire. I try to wiggle away from him, but it only takes one big, strong hand to hold my hips in place as he fucks his tongue into me, his nose rubbing on my puffy clit. It’s wet and it’s gross, but so, so hot.

He’s a little too good, knowing all the buttons to press that leave me tracking wetness all over his face, before taking two fingers and roughly pushing them into my core, giving me no time to adjust. They’re thick and long, and when he makes the come hither motion I know I’m fucked, doing everything I can not to gasp his name.

“S-s-oh my god,” I cry as he plunges his fingers all the way down to the knuckle every time, reaching deeper and deeper and rubbing on my g-spot. He’s too busy sucking on my clit to say anything, his attention overstimulating.

He adds a third finger, and that, combined with him tracing patterns on my sensitive bud, sends me straight over the edge with a an unintelligible cry.

Of course the bastard doesn’t stop, not until I’m physically shaking from the overstimulation, legs quivering, and on the brink of a second release.

He removes himself from my heat, laying his cheek on the inside of my thigh, looking up at me smugly.

“Good, huh?” he knows it was.

“Fuck you,” I mutter, voice weak.

“That’s what I’m getting to, princess. So impatient,” he taunts, standing up to full height again. Sam haphazardly wipes the slick off of his face with his forearm, not really caring how much he removes. He kicks off his shoes and socks before taking off his slacks and boxers in one go, revealing that gorgeous cock again. He stands before me, looking like some kinda statue of physical perfection. I have to physically close my jaw looking at him.

“Like what you see, princess?”

I stick out my tongue and blow a raspberry.

“Real mature, sweetheart,” he rolls his eyes. “You have a condom?”

I shake my head. “Don’t need one, I’m on the pill and I have morning after. Want you to fuck me and fill me,” I tell him honestly.

“God you’re a slut and you’re freaky? I’d never have guessed,” he mused, stepping between my thighs. I assume he’s clean as well since he doesn’t really… get out much.

“Yeah, that’s cause you’re not the brightest,” I tell him, scooting as close to the edge as I can without falling.

“Uh huh,” he says sarcastically, before picking me up and slamming my shoulder into a nearby wall, yet gently resting my back against it. Gentle with my injury, wow. Wouldn’t have expected it. I gasp, surprised by the sudden motion.

“Payback for the gut punch,” he explains.

“Oh yeah? I’ll punch you again if you don’t fuck me,” I say, a mean edge to my voice.

“Mkay,” he says, obviously not swaying either way as he aligns his tip with my entrance.

“Fuck me,” I order through a gasp, unable to wait anymore.

“Careful what you wish for there, princess,” he warns, before sheathing himself in me in one go.

Look, I can get laid whenever I want, especially back when I was on duty as a hunter. I’m no stranger to sex, and I have a decently high sex drive. If I can’t get some, then I always have backup- toys and vibrators, you name it.

But Sam? His dick was big in my mouth, but in my pussy? I feel like I’ve been split in two, my mouth is dropped in an o. But it feels so, so good.

“Move,” I demand after a few moments of adjusting.

“Say my name,” he cocks his head, pushing impossibly deeper so that he’s practically touching my cervix.

“Sammy,” I say with as much sass as I can muster, my voice high from the added pressure. I know he hates the nickname, it makes him feel like a baby. Because he is one.

“Nuh uh, princess. Say my name,” the pad of his thumb flits over my clit.

“Unh- Sam!” I moan, unable to stop myself.

“That wasn’t so hard, now was it? Now ask me to fuck you. Nicely.”

“No.”

“Guess I’ll be on my way then,” he starts pulling out.

“No!” I whine.

“Ask nicely.”

“Sam, fuck me please?” I ask with as much sweetness and doe eyes as possible for me.

“You really are sweet when you’re horny,” he remarks, pulling back, before setting a brutal pace that has me raking my nails across his back and moaning his stupid name. He’s pounding into me with all of his might, sweat sheening on his brow.

It’s so hard that I can barely get any words out, and I hate it, but it just feels too good.

And of course, Sammy has enough words for the both of us.

“Fucking you dumb, huh? Got such a big attitude until I’m in you, just needed this dick,” he says, laughing meanly as I involuntarily clench at his words.

“What? You like me being mean to you? You get wet every time we fight?” a particularly hard set of thrusts accompanies each of the words in his third rhetorical question. I moan, not even sure of the answer. Probably? Maybe? Gah.

“Look at you, taking it like a good slut. You’re so tight and wet, and it’s all f’me,” his raspy voice starts slurring with lust. He brings one of his hands between us, finding my swollen clit and rutting on it, tracing patterns just as he did before with his tongue.

“S-Sam, it’s too much-,” I cry, unable to handle the overstimulation.

“Good,” he grins wickedly, before upping the ante both in thrusts and in rutting, unraveling me into a mess in his arms. I cry his name, helpless as I come down for the second time.

“So soon?” he tuts, not slowing his pace.

“Sh-shut up- ah-,” is all I can say as he gets impossibly rougher, chasing his own release.

“Gotta finish the job, princess,” he stutters, before growing more and more erratic. He’s got me on edge again as he does so, but mercifully comes before I can. I feel his hot release in me, filling me up just a little too full with his dick that he hasn’t yet pulled out.

Eventually he wordlessly puts me down, fingers plugging our mixed release in me. I can’t even complain- him keeping me full is unfortunately kinda hot.

“So…” he starts, looking down at me.

“Get out,” I interrupt.

“No,” he says, not moving.

This is going to be a long afternoon.

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

“Did you guys finally get into a bout?” Dean asks as we walk (re: stumble) out of the med bay and into the kitchen where he and Cas are sitting playing Uno, Bon Jovi playing in the background. “Oh- oh.”

Yeah, it’s pretty obvious the fight we got into. There’s no hiding it, even if we had tidied up our hair or faces- there’s scratches and bruises everywhere. Whoops.

“Are you guys in need of healing?” Cas asks innocently as Sam and I sit down a chair apart.

“No, Cas… these are, uh, special bruises. The fun kind. And they’re everywhere, apparently… damn, Sammy.” Dean comments as he surveys his brother and I. Sam coughs, and I reach over to punch him from my seat away. He grunts, and then we all go quiet.

“So… all in favor of never talking about this?” I ask after an uncomfortably long uncomfortable silence.

“Aye,” say the brothers in unison. Cas also agrees after Dean elbows him. “Fantastic.”

[decepti-thots]

What I can't get my head around is, why didn't Dominus Ambus tell Rewind that he was secretly a turbofox? Like, that's your conjunx, presumably the person you trust most in the whole universe, and you won't even share your secret with him? IDK if you've already done an analysis post on this but if you haven't I'd love to hear your thoughts.

Okay, so. Putting aside any non-diagetic explanations entirely for a moment (that is, my suspicion that the concept was conceived of some way into the comic's run and just proved a really good way to explain Rewind not recognising the Pet once it was settled on)… in-universe explanations, let's go.

Something I do wanna point out here is a thing I rarely see mentioned: in my opinion, Minimus does not act as though Rewind doesn't know. I think he expects that Rewind does, which is honestly sort of wild? In DotL, Minimus isn't like 'oh shit, now you know I guess' when he's making remarks about Dominus being even more insecure about his height than Minimus is (irreducible style), or whatever. I… guess you could argue he thinks Rewind has inferred it logically (Minimus has revealed he was wearing an armour > Minimus and Dominus are spark twins > therefore…) but tbh, he's just. SO casual about it. I absolutely feel like Minimus assumed Dominus had told Rewind! Which. THEY WERE MARRIED LMAO. IT'S A REASONABLE… ASSUMPTION……..

Which definitely suggests there's no reason externally that is all that compelling for Dominus to not have done so. If there was, presumably Minimus would have anticipated it! Realistically, if Dominus couldn't trust Rewind to keep it secret for the sake of public access and ease, why the hell were they married. (Anyway, Rewind is in a far more precarious situation than Dominus is, when they meet; Rewind isn't able to hide and is formally subject to being classified as 'disposable'. I mean!) That's definitely not compelling.

Personally I think the easiest way to reconcile it is to think that Dominus had a personal hangup around his alt, and genuinely wanted people not to know this about him- because he himself was personally ashamed of it, no matter how much effort he put into public work that seems to contradict that. This actually reconciles something else, I think. Why would the sentience test Dominus seemingly designed in part or full be so biased against beastformers? He is one! What! But if that's something he was unable to get over the way he e.g. was able to overcome prejudice of the kind Rewind was facing, it perhaps makes sense to think of it as a kind of 'harder when it's personal' thing. Right? Internal feelings of self-loathing are sometimes paradoxically the more difficult kind to unlearn, compared to changing how you think about other people. Hell, maybe Dominus convinced himself wearing an armour 24/7 meant he wasn't one any more. Maybe he didn't tell Rewind because as far as he was concerned, that was no longer true.

I think this would potentially be interesting in terms of adding actual characterization to Dominus against which you can a) effectively compare and contrast Minimus (since a looot of what we know about Dominus is more or less 'he was made in a lab to induce an inferority complex in Minimus', lmao) and b) open up avenues to question the very idealized view Rewind has of their marriage that don't necessarily require leaning into the trope of 'he was an Evil Liar All Along on purpose!!!', which adds a lot of interesting stuff to that element of Rewind's arc that I'm sad canon never really managed to deliver completely, IMO.

I have actually thought about Dominus in relation to both Minimus and Rewind a LOOOOOT haha. He's such a cipher in the comic; a huge motivating character for two otherwise-unconnected leads AND a cornerstone of our introduction to the Functionist Universe… and yet a character we know very little about the thought processes or feelings of. He's like a void of a character you can reconstruct by looking at what surrounds him. It's very fun to me.

[jerktournament]

ROUND ONE - Herbert P. Bear (Club Penguin) VS Snowball (Battle for Dream Island)

!!! PROPAGANDA BELOW !!!

HERBERT: "Herbert may be a fandom darling in our fandom of like, 20 people. BUT DON'T LET THAT FOOL YOU! He is a conniving, EVIL bear, and a professional jerk and some highlights of his jerkishness include... - Spending ten years of his life (by the time the game closed) trying to destroy the Penguin Secret Agency and Elite Penguin Force (both were agencies that protected the island from disasters and villains like Herbert) with varying success... - SUCCESSFULLY destroyed the Penguin Secret Agency with a popcorn bomb, which destroyed their HQ. It should also be noted that while doing so, he locked in the player, Rookie, and Gary the Gadget Guy, presumably so the bombs explosion would have killed them all. -Teamed up with the EPF to stop the Ultimate Protobot 10,000 and the Test Bots, a small group of four dangerous robots after he personally brought them back. When Protobot went "too far" for Herbert's standards by threatening the environment and trying to completely destroy the EPF (despite the aforementioned Popcorn Bomb incident literally destroying the PSA, and also a certain Operation: Blackout), causing him to temporarily switch sides. This might sound like a character growth moment...except for the fact that he immediately betrays them once Protobot is dealt with and attacks and damages the EPF's HQ using a robot hydra made for the Medieval Party that he stole. - A canonical ex-dictator. Don't believe me? Look up Operation: Blackout on the Club Penguin Wiki! He froze several agents during his reign of terror, was open to freezing innocent civilians, and also wanted to do away with puffles- the pets of penguins. He also banned several hobbies and professions during his reign (being a Ninja, a DJ, a Pirate, etc) for no reason other than disliking them. He also destroyed the EPF'S HQ and exposed two agents' private information to the public. This means Herbert is the first and only character to canonically dox people he doesn't like on Club Penguin. -Was planning to bomb the EPF literally two months later with a hot sauce bomb (makes sense in context of the game and yes, it is more destructive than it sounds). -Brainwashed puffles into digging coins for him purely because his henchman, Klutzy the crab brought a coin slot to use for his DIY heater, instead of just removing the coin slot and retooling it to work without one like a normal person."

SNOWBALL: "OMG. SNOWBALL. SB. BABYGIRL. MI PRINCESA. HE IS SUCH A JERK. ok so for starters he is very arrogant and cocky (like a jock) and he thinks of himself as better than other contestants. snowball is also very stubborn and doesn't like people telling him what to do, and he often ditch or hurt his teammates for the sake of the challenge, thinking he was in the right to do so. he often intimidates and threatens the hosts of the show he competes on (x in bfb and two in TPOT) and he is also bery unlikeable both to fans and in universe. he was so unlikeable that in the firsr season of the bfdi franchise in a vote to regoin, he got the least votes out of 21 contestants with 8, less than 1/100 of the total votes. because of his behavior he made a reputation for himself among the other contestants, and was picked last for team making in the 5th season/TPOT. even on his new team in TPOT he is give the cold sholder by his teammates. OK NOW TO THE JERKY STUFF HE DID. so first of all he has killed at least 10 people, and he has hurt multiple contestants out of rage or for the challenge multiple times (some examples being when he broke fanny, a member of his older team from season 4 for telling him what to do, or him setting grassy, another member on his team in the 5th season on fire for the challenge. or the time that he punched grassy off inti the distance twice because "he felt like punching something "in episode 3 of TPOT). snowball also sabotaged his team in a challenge on purpose purely because of his ego (episode 4 of TPOT). he is also pretty rude to pretty much anyone and everyone, including hosts. only begrudgingly listening to them if it benefits himself. that is it (sorry for the really long propaganda he is my comfort and my favorite character from his series, i have been nominated as his no. 1 fan)"

[eunoiaastralwings]

Fragments of Blue

featuring Bucky x reader

fandom mcu- pre catcw

a/n based on my idea here - here part one (can be read alone too - I think LMAO).

warnings running away ? - idk if there was anything else tell me otherwise

You were simply lying on the on the couch bored when he came in again – with presuming a packet of bread in his hands.

You momentarily looked over the man that was once the deadly assassin – the one who had been assigned to bring you back to your father and his Hydra, every time you tried to escape or occasionally protect you.

He was always so anxious and nervous now – now you saw the real man being the Winter Soldier, trapped underneath Hydra’s torture who was finally free.

But the world didn’t see it like that however – the world still saw him as a murder and a true weapon of evil and you could almost see he saw himself like that too now.

Like he was signing the picture the outside world painted him as.

You always wondered why he came back for you – you were Alexander Pierce’s daughter after all. You were once even called as Hydra’s daughter by your father’s men.

But unlike your father you didn't want to be part of Hydra – but you were forced to know Hydra, including the Winter Soldier.

Little did you know, the blue-eyed man before you remembered as the Winter Soldier, he told to watch over you and made sure you didn't escape from Hydra like you tried countless times.

It was like you were something constant – something different than the usual assassinations he was tasked with.

You father was dead – yet you weren’t sure how to feel about that, he was your only family after all – though he did put Hydra above you.

Once the man was freed from the mind control and for whatever reason he had broken into your father’s house helped her escape and went on the run together.

You had known the moment he stepped in – he wasn’t Blue anymore.

He was the man behind those blue eyes again – still he seemed to be refusing to tell you his real name.

“So. . . you going to tell me your real name or do I keep calling you, Blue?” She asked – as he places the packet of bread on the small table in tiny rundown apartment you were sharing.

You had hated always calling him Soldat or the Winter Soldier, like your father and Hydra did - so you always stuck with calling him Blue, because of his blue eyes. He didn’t remember his own name - and no one would tell him or you either. . .and you wanted to make him feel just a little human. . .

He looked up giving you a once over – as if still debating inside him whether to trust you or not.

To be honest the only reason you were was because of him anyways.

You were almost certain he was going to brush you off again.

But then you heard a small mutter.

“Bucky. . .”

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

You disguised yourself the best you could, wearing one of Bucky’s baseball caps – as you looked around the market stalls, trying to follow him.

You were always annoying him – that’s for sure. He had specifically instructed you to stay at the apartment but you clearly hadn't.

“Y/N you shouldn't be here. You’re not supposed to be out without my permission.”

He sounds annoyed.

“I deserve to at least see the sun, Bucky!”

You scowled at his behavior.

“I get it. . . But we can't let anyone find the either of us!”

He sighs.

“The only reason you’re not in the base is because it's me babysitting you.”

He mutters.

“You’re not babysi-“

You tripped over something because of your vintage heeled boots as you tried to follow – needing to hold onto Bucky in case you fell face flat on the ground.

You sighed – knowing he was gonna be mad.

“I told you not to wear those heels!”

He glared – now mad with you.

“Oh, I’m sorry – I didn’t exactly get to stop by at home to grab shoes before going on the run!”

You answered sarcastically.

“Don’t talk back to me. I’m only looking out for you. You really need to take more precautions!”

He warned.

You knew he was mad.

“I cannot go bare feet!”

You still stubbornly scowled –  knowing what he was picking at how you failed to escape multiple times during their time in Hydra and how he as the Winter Soldier always dragged her back kicking and screaming.

“Well, at the light’s still there, princess!

He grumbles and grabs you by the wrist. He pulls her along with a grumpy looking glare.

“We don’t have time for this. I have to keep you safe!”

He mutters, that was something he always said – but Bucky himself didn’t know why he was keeping you safe.

He didn’t know he came running to you – when he was freed from the mind control.

But here you were now.

You simply rolled your eyes and followed him to a farmers’ market.

He glances over at you.

“Why can’t you just listen to me for a change!”

Bucky sounded exhausted and anxious – he walks fast with you still holding your hand and you were trying to keep up with his pace.

Once again – stubborn as ever you didn't answer. The farmers’ market was large, with lots of stands and stalls, some selling fruit, spices/herbs, meat, or vegetables, others selling handmade crafts.

You easily got distracted with handmade crafts and toys.

Bucky looked – noticing how you got easily distracted, he just sighs an tries to not get annoyed.

He notices as your eyes were filled wonder, even glancing at your hair too.

You seem to have a soft, sweet face with the eyes of an angel.

“Why cant you just stay focused for once Y/N. . .”

He said – being a hypocrite as he found himself, getting distracted by you.

Before his eyes dart around nervously as they search for any threats. He seems on edge – always looking around as he looks for Hydra members or even agents.

He then went over to the fruit vendors – still keeping a close eye on you while spoke in Romanian trying buy a few plums for you and him.

You then picked up a little wooden carved wolf smiling at it as Bucky looks at the fruits.

Bucky glares at you – you smile and your beauty makes him stop and stare for a few moments.

“Y/N, put that down. We don't have time for that.”

He said – now coming back over to you.

“I told you we're on the run and we can’t risk letting the enemy find either of us.”

He whispers – now close enough only you could hear him.

You sighed, a small pout on your lips as you put back the carved wolf.

Then spots a grumpy unhappy looking plushie bear.

“Oh look! It's you!”

You said – picking up the blue grumpy looking plushie bear.

“Put that down you brat! We don’t have time for this!”

He looks at you – there was a look of annoyance and frustration.

Bucky was also nervous as he looks for any signs of a threat – and he glances at the plushie.

He thinks of it as a waste of time.

“I’m buying it!”

You said to Bucky.

“No, you aren't. Put it down. It’s a waste of good money!”

He tries to reach for the plushie to take it from you.

“It’s not wasting if I love it!”

You said – cradling it protectively close.

“It is also wasting since we’re on the run and it’s not the time for toys!”

He seems annoyed as he tries and snatch the plushie bear away from her.

 “Ooo, ok blue bear, I’m gonna call you Bucky!"

You hugged the plushie bear.

“Stop it you brat! You are so annoying!”

Bucky said annoyed – but he thinks you looked adorable.

Though it made him roll his eyes – when she insisted call a plushie by his name.

You just held it protectively close.

“Give it to me!”

Bucky tried to forcefully take it from you.

You held it protectively – “no!”

You scowled.

Bucky tried to take the plushie away, he grabs the plushie’s arm as he tries to force it away from you as you tried to protect it.

 “Give it here kid!”

“I’m 25, not a kid!”

You argued – though it seemed hilarious right now.

“You are acting like one.”

He glares at you – still holding onto the plushie’s arm as he refuses to give it to you.

“No!”

You said again.

It was then Bucky spots a few familiar looking agents up ahead behind her.

Bucky seems to pause – then glances again over at the agents, who are still unaware of their presence.

He looks back at you.

“We need to get out of here!”

He tries to move you in a direction, but you were still holding onto the stupid plushie.

You frowned looking behind yourself – your eyes widened and she froze seeing the familiar Hydra general blending in with the crowd in casual clothes as he and his men were seemingly looking for them.

Bucky grabs the plushie, tossing it aside – then grabs your hand and pulls you in a different direction.

He is now trying to act fast as he leads you away from the general and agents. He seems to be on edge as he eyes dart back and forth quickly trying to find a safe place.

"Just..."

You looked around then at Bucky – if the acted casual too blending in with the crowd, they wouldn’t be spotted.

"Blue, put your arm around me and pretend to laugh at something I said!"

You say seeing more agents – the former nickname you had for him slipping out in the mist of the situation.

Bucky has an annoyed look on his face – but he still decides to follow your plan for the moment – seeing how it made sense.

So he puts his arm around you and pretend to laugh at something you said.

“Heh. . .Heh, Heh heheh. . . Very funny. . .”

He said – and you almost had to stop from laughing out loudly yourself at how horrible that sounded.

So you simply rolled her eyes amused – seemingly their role-playing worked as the agents paid them no attention and walked past without noticing either of them.

“You need to work for on your acting skills though!”

You said – once they passed.

“I’m not an actor. I'm a super soldier, princess. . .”

He mutters – annoyed by your comment as he seems to be on edge – always looking around nervously.

“We’re still not safe. . .”

You rolled your eyes again at his former words – “anyways let’s go!”

Bucky was still seemingly on edge as he follows you.

He keeps looking behind him to see if they are still being followed.

His blue eyes were darting around nervously.

You had almost tripped onto the escalators – again because of your heeled boots.

Bucky scowling seeing almost trip again – but he still tries not to yell at you as he glares and sighs, shaking his head.

“You really need to get some new shoes, doll. . .”

He keeps his eyes darting around as he follows you.

You were going to answer – but her eyes widened as you saw a few agents taking the opposite side of the escalator – but you were crowded in you and couldn't move.

Bucky stops and freezes as he spots them too.

“Crap. . . We have to go.”

He tries pull you away in a different direction – his eyes dart around nervously as he looks for any escape routes.

The escalators were too close – you’d be spotted.

You looked around then suddenly said to Bucky – “kiss me!”

Bucky pauses and his eyes dart to you as he looks at you in disbelief.

He blinks in surprise.

 “What?”

He says confused – nervous, an unsure of what to do.

“Why?”

He says, seeming a bit skeptical of your plan.

“Physical displays of affection make people uncomfortable!”

You said blurt out – knowing the agents will look away seeing a couple kiss.

Bucky still seems unsure of it but he looks at you with the most serious expression.

He sighs and thinks about it for a second as he makes a hard decision.

“. . . Okay. . .”

He says as he slowly leans towards you to kiss you – he still has a annoyed look on his face but tries to relax.

He kisses you softly and he sighs.

He still feels annoyed about your plan – but he seems a bit relieved that they didn't get caught by the agents as he looks at you.

He’s still not sure if he likes you or not– j but he still seems to really enjoy the kiss.

You both then slowly pull away the moment the agents were out of sight.

But stops kissing you – the look of annoyance reappearing.

“You’re crazy.”

He sighs and rubs his face – “. . .I can’t believe I kissed you. . .”

“Oh please, it’s not I like just kissed Richard Madden or something!”

You grumbled sarcastically – as you reached the floor.

He looked at you with the same serious expression – but it quickly changes into a pissed off expression.

“. . .What? Richard, who?”

Bucky sounds agitated as he looks at you.

He’s not only annoyed by what you said – but the kiss. He tries to put the kiss out of his mind.

“Richard Madden. . .? The British actor. . .?” You said “You know the guy who played in Bodyguard or even prince charming in the live action Cinderella!”

“I don't care about no British actor we just kissed!”

He scoffs as he glances away angrily.

“. . .And?”

You ask – raising an eyebrow.

Bucky was shocked by your response as he looks at you in disbelief.

“You’re. . . You’re not embarrassed?”

He asks.

“Well. . . yes. . . but hey, it got us out of there!”

You said.

“. . .Right.”

He grumbles looks away as is pissed. He rubs his face in annoyance again and he just tries to forget about it.

“What?”

You ask – seeing the annoyed grumpy expression on his face.

“Nothing. . . Nothing at all. Just shut up and stop talking about Ricker Maddened.”

He grumbles – getting you both back out into streets again.

“Richard Madden.”

You corrected him.

“And – I don’t care.”

He grumbles under his breath.

You just rolled your eyes as he quickly pulled you back into the apartment – that kiss continuously replaying his mind. . .

He’d be lying if he said – the warmth of your lips against his didn’t feel good or made his heart race. . .

Perhaps, there was a reason why he came for you. . .

tagging everyone who was interested in the first part ( One more part then the story will be finished ):

@kiekiekiki @ijustneedpopcorn @geminigengar @batsyforyou </3

PART 1 | PART 2

And yes - I used references from catws xD

[igglemouse]

I start my morning off with a lot more energy and in such a better mood than before. Yes, it is because of what happened last night and it is at least double the effect since it had been quite some time for me and...let's just say I look forward to it happening again.

It was so good that I start my day off with a salad as if last night made me feel guilty. Eat well, live well, think well, be well...something like that, right? That feels like some random quote that would be on some welcome mat or something.

I think the feeling was mutual. When I wake up there was Niklas still beside me, the presence of him was...comfortable. Like he belonged there so I was happy that he decided to stay the night. That this wasn't just a fleeting moment and that maybe it can be more. Let me have my delusions, please!

So instead of shooing him away when the sun comes up I give him a key to the house and let him know he can come over any time he wants. Might seem a little rash but he just feels right?

What do I even have to lose? I've been wanting to make deeper connections with people, I've been wanting a little more in my life, and here he is. So why deny it or hold it back? I mean there is nothing like waking up with someone you enjoy and sharing a breakfast together is there?

"So, what is it that you actually do?" I ask, pushing some more of a pretty bland salad into my mouth. The news droning on in the background, just noise, just another theme to what might be another quiet day.

"I told you, it's just small magic. Practical magic, it's nothing fancy-"

"No, I mean outside of that. Since magic isn't the center of your world you have a job, right."

"Oh, I'm a doctor," he says as if it is no big deal.

I stare at him and blink a few times because did the world just drop a doctor into my lap? "A...doctor?"

"Wait..." excuse me for still being a little shocked. I feel like the main character right now, am I the main character? MAIN CHARACTER ENERGY! "Do you use magic when you..."

"Oh, no! No! That is forbidden, as you know," he says with a laugh. "I should clarify, I'm practicing medicine, not actual doctor. Yet."

Ah, okay, now that is more realistic. A girl can't be too fortunate I suppose. "I'm sure with dash of magic you could be? A little mind control here, a little luck spell there?" he shakes his head but he is laughing at least!

He's getting up to leave to presumably go back to his life. A life I know nothing about but one I am curiously more curious to understand. I think there is more to this man than he lets on, I mean, he does carry around a magic destiny watch. That has to be rare right? Maybe passed down to the first born of his family or something?

Before he leaves he has one more thing to say. "Just remember, you don't need magic. Ninety-nine percent of people get by in life just fine without it, so don't let this whole exile thing get you down."

"Easy for you to say," I reply a little too harshly but that is the truth. It's not true that people are doing just 'fine' without magic, the truth is, magic could help a lot of people and the Realm witholds a lot of it...okay, okay, don't think those thoughts Grace. Those are dangerous thoughts.

"We practice magic for people that can't use it," his tone is serious now, maybe he picks up on what I am thinking. It's not that unpopular you know. There are so many spells to help crops grow for instance, think of the good that can do for many people? Yet the Realm- "We do it to protect the world from those would harm regular, everyday people. Evil spirits, vampires, shifters, if you would believe it the Realm currently thinks there are aliens among us who seek to conquer us."

Ok, now that is funny! I smile, holding back a laugh because while I do believe in vampires (because I've met one) Aliens don't exist. Duh. "The world is definitely a dangerous place once you walk through that door," is really all I could think to say. There are many realities people aren't aware of and so many creatures and beings hiding behind The Veil.

Niklas eyes lock onto mines now, his expression hardens just for a moment. "And sometimes, they burst through it."

"Speaking of doors," Niklas transitions from a sorta serious conversation to a farewell. "I should be going through yours erm...I mean your front door!" his cheeks color at that and the man just added a few more thousand points in his favor. "Anyway! I look forward to seeing you again!"

"Me too!"

He offers me a hug which I'm super happy to accept and Watcher his hugs always feel so comfortable!

I'm really not sure what to do with the rest of my time today as that familiar sense of aimlessness takes hold of me. So I fall back into the familiar, collecting.

It's not glamourous for sure and it's not even really a career but it's something I've gotten into the habit of doing. Chipping away at rocks, picking up herbs, wandering through Windenberg with the hope that one day I'll run into something special.

That doesn't happen today. Today its just the usual dusty old rocks and common wild berries that fill my pockets. There is always tomorrow I guess.

It actually is a pretty nice day so there is no point wasting it all away with collecting. So I called Triple V and invited her to the cafe since we haven't caught up in a few days and now that I think about it I have a lot to tell her. I did meet a random handsome guy after all.

Knowing her I'm sure she has just as much to say to me. With VVV there's always some story or wild scheme running through that head of hers, it's really never a dull moment with her.

"One latte, please! Wait, no, make that two! She'll have what I'm having," yeah, she would order for me. She likes to take charge and she likes making decisions. "Grace! My Grace! We meet again! I thought you were too busy for little old Vee!"

"Huh? You know me, I wasn't doing anything at all."

"Oh, you little liar! You're a lot busier than you let on!" she nudges me playfully in that way of hers and I can't help but to smile and chuckle. The aroma of freshly brewed coffee and her spirit is sure to make this a delightful conversation.

"Nope, nothing at all Vee," but I admit to saying that with a sheepish grin.

"And that is the problem, isn't it?" She says, there is an excitement in her eyes, a look I'm too familiar with when it comes to her. It's usually not good and spells trouble with a capital T. "You have sooo much potential, Grace, we both do-"

"Are we really going to talk about this here and now Vee?"

"Yes? We must," insistence, it's taken over her voice now. We're definitely going to talk about it. I was hoping to talk about Niklas and get her thoughts on him but... "I think it's time we take control of our futures, of our, you know..." she says in a hushed voice. It's not proper to talk about magic openly in public you know.

We find a cozy corner of the cafe, far enough for a private conversation but of course if we were really skilled maybe we could put some kind of privacy bubble around us or something? Is that possible? Anything is possible with magic, rich? Either way, once we settle into our seats I can tell she is ready to burst and eventually she does.

"It's the Matlock Society, Grace, what do you know about it?" She asks in a hushed tone, leaning in just a little.

"Umm, nothing, other than that it is the second time you've brought it up and it is named after my family for some reason."

"But it is a lot more than that, Grace. The Matlock society is determined to unlock the magical potential of all of us rejects. Of everyone the Realm denies," she says. There is a fervor here and a wild look to her eyes that I do not like. But this is Vee. My best friend. My only true friend. My sister, basically. She's just excited about something new, she's always like this.

"The Realm denies prospects for plenty of reasons," I try to be the sane one here, try to stay grounded. "Besides, the people the Realm denies don't even know they have been denied unless they are part of a magical family like us-"

"Grace-"

"Valerie Van Vilet, you seem a little unhinged about all of this?" Okay, I had to be blunt and me doing so causes her to pause. Hopefully she's processing this like the intelligent and critical woman I know she is. I understand, we are both denied something we are born with, a right, even, but this whole thing looks like a suspicious white van with 'Free Candy' scribbled on the side.

"What is this about, Vee? Okay, so the Matlock Society unlocks our 'potential' or whatever, then what? Do they do this for free, what do they ask for in return?" I continue on because I can tell maybe I've interjected some doubt into her mind.

"Nothing but your loyalty to their cause, that's it."

"And their cause is????" ugh, doesn't she hear herself?

"Grace look, I'm not asking you to join but I am asking you to consider. We are having a meeting, later tomorrow night, and I'd love for you to come. You can just spectate, that's all, and then you can decide from there if it's something you'd give a try."

"Alright..."

Yeah, I'll see what it's about. I've been doing more riskier things so why not? Besides, Triple V has been a dear friend so I'm sure she means well and if there is something wrong with this 'Matlock' society maybe I can pull her out of it? Keep your enemies close kind of thing?

She leaves satisfied and I decide to have one more drink for the go. Hopefully I'm not getting myself into anything I can't get myself out of.

Either way, it's back home for me, and I was a little shocked to find Niklas already there. Forgot that I had given him a key to a place, that was that this morning?

Any ways, he seems pretty comfortable in my space, as if he's been here for a while, but then again I did ask for this. Things are moving fast with this but maybe that is because it is destiny?

"So umm, are you going to be here often?" I ask, a little unsure about this suddenly. I do want him to be here, I do, there is something that pulls me to him after all, yet still, should I believe in fate and destiny? Especially when it comes to relationships?

His reply his a shrug at first, looking down at his watch again, as if that is to blame. "I go where it tells me to go and just try my best to figure out why. It wants me to be here, I think..."

"I'd love a watch like that but I guess it doesn't tell time very well," I say with a chuckle, and he of course agrees with that.

"Telling time is truly overrated," Niklas says in that thoughtful tone of his. Is everything overrated to him? "There's the past, the future, and the present, and the latter is the only thing that matters."

I chuckle again, giving my head a little shake at his philosophy. It's cute. "I think you should be a poet." little "Maybe you should have been a poet?"

"Now that doesn't pay nearly as well as becoming a doctor"

As our conversation continues I start to notice that he's getting closer to me. Not just the physical contact like his leg brushing ever so slightly against mines or how his arm is also wandering nearer, but there is a connection forming. A bond.

So while we talk about regular every day things, life, work, the weather, it all starts to feel like something more. We just start talking about things. Like he wants to know what my big plans are (outside of magic of course) and I tell him I don't have many. I make Jewelry, that's it, and I guess I blog as well?

He tells me that I really should look for something more solid in life, something more concrete, something I can hold on to and always rely on and I'm starting to think maybe he's talking about himself.

We honestly don't talk for too long though because we decided to put our lips to better use...

Episode List - Next

[antianakin]

Honestly when people call Cassian Andor morally gray, mostly from the movie, I kinda side-eye? Because he doesn't really fit that. He's, he's a spy but the two things I see called morally gray are:

Shooting the other spy in the beginning, which was a sad choice to make, but the man was injured and they were being chased. There's no way for him to carry the man to safety while fleeing the stormtroopers, and leaving him there would have been a fate worse that death, we know what the Empire does to suspected spies, along with not risking intel leaks.

And setting out to assassinate Jyn's father, who at that point, nobody had confirmation he was anything other than a man loyal to the Empire, building a weapon of mass destruction. Its reasonable to think getting rid of the head engineer behind that project would either delay it or cause issues. The Rebellion was operating with less information than we, the audience had.

Both hard decisions made during hard times, but to me, Cassian Andor at least is an average guy, trying to make the best decision he can in basically the worst times ever.

I mean, I think that a lot of this is what MAKES Cassian morally gray. Being morally gray doesn't have to mean he doesn't care, or that his ultimate goal isn't something generally good and altruistic, either. Cassian is fighting for the greater good, he's trying to take down a tyrannical fascist Empire, he's doing what he's doing because he firmly believes that it's what's best for the entire galaxy and because it will ultimately save a lot of lives in the long run.

Being morally gray just generally means that the character operates outside of the more strict dichotomies of "good" and "evil." Luke Skywalker is pretty unequivocally "good" and he would likely never do the things Cassian does even though they both are aiming for the same goal. Luke would never even AGREE to assassinate Jyn's father, especially if he has to use Jyn to find her father in the first place. This would be something that Luke would consider wrong and he'd refuse to do it, even though there are reasons to think Galen might be working for the Empire and that it could be better for everyone if he was dead. And on the other end of the spectrum you have someone like Palpatine, or even Anakin (specifically during the OT) who aren't out for the greater good at all and are always motivated solely by selfish greed and nothing else.

So someone like Cassian operates somewhere between these two extremes. Cassian is willing to kill an innocent man who is his ally because he cannot take the risk of either of them getting captured by the Empire. He can presumably trust that HE'D hold up under torture, but he cannot trust that this informant (who has been pretty anxious and flustered so far) would do the same. Cassian's options are to stay and get captured with him, escape without him, or give him a quick and painless death and then escape on his own. The honorable option that we'd probably see a character like Luke choose is the first one, staying with the informant and trying to find a way for both of them to escape even though it runs a VERY high risk of both of them being captured. Killing an innocent man is an objectively evil thing to do, but Cassian looks at all of his options and weighs the risks and ultimately chooses the option that is best for his cause even if it requires doing something objectively evil.

And you ARE supposed to recognize that. There's this whole moment immediately after Cassian kills the guy that Diego Luna makes this really devastating face where you can tell he HATES what he just did, he HATES that he felt like he had to make that choice at all, but then he lets it go and escapes. This is not something that he just brushes off like it's nothing, it's something that does weigh on him and that's part of his whole arc within this film. He has to decide how to live with the choices he has made and the reasons he has made them and whether those reasons are worth what it costs to him personally. He obviously ultimately decides NOT to kill Galen because he cares about Jyn and he knows that killing Galen will mean ruining the connection that's been beginning to build between himself and Jyn. For the moment, he chooses to care about Jyn and Jyn's happiness more than he cares about the cause of the Rebellion. And at the end, he and the other volunteers all choose to go to Scarif because they cannot just abandon this cause that they've all given up so much for, that they've all had to do objectively evil things for. It HAS to be worth something, killing that informant HAS to be worth it or what does that make him? Without the cause, he's just a murderer.

And all of this is part of what makes him such a compelling character. Often these days we see morally gray characters in the position of the villain, where they have perhaps a sympathetic motivation but they're going about it all wrong and they have to be stopped because they've let their desire for a better world be corrupted into simply a desire for power. Some of these stories get done better than others, obviously, but this can be a really powerful narrative. But Cassian sits slightly differently where he is unequivocally one of The Good Guys, but the narrative posits the idea that sometimes sacrifices are required to achieve "the greater good." When your enemy is pure evil and willing to use tricks and lies to beat you, sometimes you have to give up some of your own moral code in order to beat them at their own game and protect as many people as possible. Sometimes being selfless looks like setting yourself on fire so that everyone else can stay warm.

And like I mentioned in the Andor post that I assume this is probably in reaction to, what I love most about this is how it relates to the Prequels Jedi and the themes therein, the struggle they have with maintaining who they are and the morals they live by when there's a galactic civil war going on and the other side of it is willing to commit massive atrocities in order to win. By fighting in the war, the Jedi are having to compromise, but if they refused to fight at all, they would lose everything that made them who they are. The Council chooses to commit treason in order to save the Republic from its own elected Chancellor. It's objectively morally wrong to commit treason, but it lands morally gray because of the motivation and the circumstances of the choice they are making.

Often doing the right thing isn't the same as doing the easy thing. Being selfless usually comes with making sacrifices. We see the the bigger "cosmic" version of this with the Prequels Jedi during the Clone War, but Rogue One and Andor show us another version of it from the perspective of the little people, those whose names and stories will never be remembered by history, but whose sacrifices paved the way for people like Luke Skywalker and Leia Organa to step in and be the heroes who took down the Empire. Cassian and the Prequels Jedi fall into a very similar thematic category in their stories and it's honestly SUCH a compelling story and I love the way Rogue One and Andor chose to follow up on that theme.

[glitteringcrab]

SCHEMATICS BOOGER-AIDS-V1 (aka: the first Omega Device)

Season 6, Episode 10 "Ricktional Mortpoons Rickmas Mortcation"

At the beginning of the episode, we see Rick C-137 attempting to track Rick Prime using a killbot (presumably stolen during S6E1):

By the end of the same episode, the view pans out and we get a full view of Rick's sub-basement:

Note the hologram of naked Rick Prime dancing in the centre.

Season 7, Episode 1 "How Poopy Got His Poop Back"

Instead of the hologram of the naked dancing Prime, we have a computer monitor.

When Morty asks him if he's made any progress, Rick sarcastically replies that he totally found the version of himself that killed his wife (heh) and they had a big fight offscreen and Morty just missed it!

Season 7, Episode 5 "Unmortricken"

We see a view of Rick's sub-basement again, and guess what?

There is a clone in there now...!

So, the first thought that pops in our minds is that between S7E1 and S7E5 Rick C-137 went out hunting, defeated and successfully captured one of Rick Prime's clones!

...But Rick's line in S7E1 suggests that the fight might have happened shortly before the beginning of S7E1, and the Prime Clone was being analyzed offscreen somewhere at the time.

Alright, let's head off to the next point.

Inside the Box, Rick Prime announces to the Ricks captured that Diane has been erased from every universe across infinity.

To which Evil Morty responds:

Even though Rick C-137 knows how the infinite murder took place:

Evil Mortyyyyyyyyy... You had stolen Rick C-137's memories! Rick C-137 knows about this weapon, so you should know about it too! I mean, maybe Eyepatch Morty has passed by sentimental trivia of Rick's life when he watched the stolen memories, but this sort of weapon is definitely the sort of thing that would pique his interest (as we saw).

Why is Evil Morty not familiar with the Omega Device?

Well, the conclusion I get from the above is that Rick C-137 found out about the Omega Device after S5E10, after Evil Morty finished scanning his brain (and, uh, well, Evil Morty probably reached the same conclusion).

Gee, which inferior would that be?

(and I'm wondering if some sort of unspoken communication is passing between Rick C-137 and Evil Morty at that moment, because the moment Rick C-137 mentions the name of the device Evil Morty glares at him, understanding that something occurred after he had scanned Rick C-137's brain. And Rick seems quick to deny any involvement: he only heard the name of the Device from some random, "inferior" Rick lol. This does not seem to placate Evil Morty.)

Back at the safety of Rick's sub-basement, Evil Morty chastises Rick C-137 for not learning to cut his losses and quit:

And well, that line makes sense because Rick has ruined his life searching for Rick Prime, but it will make even more sense if my theory is correct :P

Rick, in turn, is already aware of the fact that Evil Morty is scared of the Omega Device.

Which, well, makes sense, but I remember being surprised at that moment. The possibility of Rick Prime targeting Mortys out of spite had not crossed my head, although from what we now know of Rick Prime, it's actually to be expected.

Let's head to my third and final point:

Rick, Rick, Riiiick... Why would you be bummed he built it again (after it was presumably destroyed somehow, by someone, in the past)? Of course Rick Prime built it again, why did you expect/hope it'd be otherwise?

And why would Rick Prime building the machine again be "impressive"? Even from Season 1 Diane was never around, she's been dead for years, obviously from the Omega Device! That's plenty of time for someone to destroy the first Omega Device, and for Rick Prime to build it again.

Of course, it's possible Rick Prime made the first Omega Device a long time ago, killed Diane, then had a clone guard his superweapon for many years, and Rick C-137 found and destroyed the weapon only recently (so of course he'd be surprised and bummed that Rick Prime re-built the weapon so soon)...

BUT.

Interesting line, isn't it? And doesn't Rick appear to be seething in this scene?

Now, supposing Rick Prime has been messing with time... Isn't it possible that:

Shortly before S7E1 Rick C-137 managed to trace one of Rick Prime's clones/decoys, which eventually led him to the Omega Device v1 (pardon, Booger Aids v1)

And that Rick Prime's clone retroactively killed Diane across all infinities?

Wouldn't this theory make Rick's line in the above screenshot a lot more literal?

Wouldn't it make Evil Morty's glare in the box a lot more accusing?

Wouldn't it give more meaning to Evil Morty's remark about Rick C-137 "reaaally learning [his] lesson about chasing this guy"?

Wouldn't it make the threat of the Omega Device a lot more imminent, and a lot more personal, to Evil Morty? After all, if Diane is gone, killed a few months ago in retaliation not to a hundred different Ricks pissing off Rick Prime, but specifically to Rick C-137's failed quest for revenge, who is next when Rick C-137 next fails?

Wouldn't it make Rick Prime's line ("this guy does not know when to quit") a lot... heavier?

Honestly, for me, the cherry-on-top of this theory is the possibility of Rick Prime and Rick C-137 bickering: Rick Prime's clone proudly presenting the "Omega Device", Rick C-137 calling that name dumb, and then Rick Prime changing it to: "the weapon too cool for a name" lol

[steddieas-shegoes]

Chapter 16

Chapter 1 / Chapter 2 / Chapter 3 / Chapter 4 / Chapter 5 / Chapter 6 / Chapter 7 / Chapter 8 / Chapter 9 / Chapter 10 / Chapter 11 / Chapter 12 / Chapter 13 / Chapter 14 / Chapter 15

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

Eddie didn’t usually get nervous about meeting people. Even the few times he met parents, he didn’t really expect them to be a forever thing, so it didn’t really matter to him if he made a good impression.

But this was Steve. This was the person he was spending forever with. And despite his clearly complicated relationship with his parents, his mom seemed to mean something to him.

Steve explained their entire conversation on the way to his apartment, his old apartment, the one he hopefully wouldn’t move back into.

If it were up to Eddie, this temporary move to his house would be permanent, but he didn’t want to push. He knew Robin and Steve were close, and that Robin looking for a new roommate may take some time, that Steve wouldn’t want to just leave her with such little notice and no one to cover his half of the rent.

The closer they got to the apartment, the more nervous Eddie became.

Steve looked over at him when they stopped at a red light, brows furrowed in concern.

“What’s wrong, baby?”

“Nothing, my love,” he brushed it off, kept his face forward so he wouldn’t fall for the puppy dog eyes Steve gave him to get what he wanted.

“You know, my mom isn’t that bad. I don’t get along with her all the time, but she is definitely the lesser of two evils when it comes to my parents.”

“Mhm. Just wanna make sure you’re okay with everything.”

Steve was quiet for a moment, the soft tones of a song he didn’t recognize playing on the radio.

“You know it’s okay to be worried about yourself, Eds. I’m feeling…well, not great, but kind of positive about this? I know it could turn into nothing, but my mom is kind of relentless when she’s set on something and it doesn’t sound like she’s gonna give up until I have my job back.”

Steve’s hand settled on Eddie’s knee, providing him a comfort he didn’t realize he needed.

Eddie often found comfort in putting others’ needs first, that’s what made him a good dom, a good friend, a good person. But even he needed to take a break from that sometimes. He knew it, he just didn’t actually do it.

“I’m mostly worried about you, but I am a little worried about meeting your mom. There, is that better?” Eddie asked with a small smile.

“Yes. She always comes off scarier than she is. All yip, no bite, or whatever the saying is,” Steve said confidently.

Eddie loved him. God, he loved him so much.

He watched as Steve bobbed his head along to the music, his hand remaining on Eddie’s knee and tapping his fingers, though he was completely off beat.

Eddie loved him so much, it felt like a part of him was always going to hear Steve’s name and associate it with comfort and home.

Steve pulled into his usual parking spot, sighing as he parked.

“Just don’t take any offense to what she says. She has no filter and forgets that people have feelings. I barely listen to anything she says anymore.”

Steve sounded nervous suddenly, maybe even more than Eddie had been on the way here.

Eddie turned, cupped his face in his hands, and kissed his nose.

“I’m here to support you, protect you. I want her to help you. I don’t care if she likes me or is rude to me, it’s about you being happy.”

“Eds, I don’t want her to upset you. Please just don’t let her scare you away.”

“Sunshine, I’m not goin’ anywhere, especially not because of your mom being a little mean to me. Your my home, and I’m yours, right?”

He felt Steve relax into his hands, a fond smile taking over his face.

“Yeah, baby, you are.”

“Then let’s go see your mom.”

—----------------------------------------

Robin was standing at the front door as soon as he opened it, her eyes begging him to do literally anything to help.

He almost laughed.

Almost.

But then he heard his mother, presumably on the phone with someone, and he decided he probably should be easy on her.

“Who’s she talking to?”

“It’s been someone new every five minutes since she got off the phone with you. I think this one is your father, but I’m not sure because she talks to everyone the exact same, which is like they are specks of dirt on the bottom of her shoe.” Robin rolled her eyes and turned to Eddie with a smile. “Hi, Eddie.”

“Hi, Robbie. Gonna make it?”

“Hard to say. I hope so.”

They gave each other quick hugs, an exchange of wordless support, and Eddie felt a bit better. If Robin could handle Steve’s mom, he certainly could.

“Richard, I don’t give a shit and a half if you think I’m babying him. He’s our son. He didn’t do anything wrong and he’s being punished. Our job is to help people who don’t do anything wrong and are being punished. I’ll be better off without your help, but I refuse to let you make empty threats at me or him.”

“You guys stay here,” Steve muttered, making his way into the kitchen to talk to his mom.

“I have to go. You can go fuck yourself or the newest woman who has to fake it through a few minutes in bed with you to get a new diamond bracelet.”

Anne Harrington did not fuck around. Steve could admit to himself that it was probably the best part about her.

“Oh, good, you’re home. I’ve contacted the school to let them know any future interviews involving you will also have me present. Any paperwork sent to you or requiring a signature will be reviewed by me first. I’ve already been sent the paperwork you signed, which will not hold up in court because all parties involved in the case are supposed to sign it and only you signed it. You work for a school system that doesn’t seem to understand basic law, which is concerning since they’re opening themselves up to a hell of a lawsuit.”

“It’s nice to see you, Mom.”

Anne sighed, releasing the weight of the world from her shoulders, and pulled him into a hug.

They were never a touchy family, not even when Steve was a small child. But every once in a while, usually during the most stressful times, his mom would pull him into a hug that actually felt like the type of hug a mother would give her kid.

“What a pickle this is,” she said against his shoulder, a solid six inches shorter than him, but always bigger than her body when she spoke.

“I know. Thanks for helping.”

“No need to thank me, it’s gonna be easy to handle. Now! Where’s the boyfriend?”

“Uh. With Robin.”

“Let’s go get this out of the way, then,” she said as she pulled away from him, her face back to the stern look he’d walked in on.

“Just be easy, please. He-”

“Steven, I know what it looks like when you’re happy. I know I rarely was around to see it, but it’s easy to see the glow, even with all this stress happening around you. He makes you feel loved?”

“Every second of every day.”

“Then he won’t have to worry about me unless that changes,” she said as she walked out to the living room.

Anne walked up to Eddie, his eyes wide as he took her in.

“Edward Munson. Nice to meet you. I’m Anne Harrington. I am certain I like you just fine, but let’s get right to it: my son is all that matters to me right now and if you get in his way of getting his job back or me doing my job, you will never step foot near him again, understood?”

Steve rolled his eyes, but couldn’t help the blush creeping across his cheeks. His mom had never been this protective of him, not even in high school when one of his friends tried to drag him into a legal issue with another basketball player.

“And if I ever get in the way of his happiness and future, I hope you would do whatever you can to protect him,” Eddie responded.

Anne studied him for a moment, looking him up and down and trying to figure out what her response should be.

She nodded once, turned to Steve, gave him a wink, and then looked back at Eddie.

“Let’s get Steve his job back.”

—----------------------------------------

The next three days were endless meetings with his mom, the school, and the school board.

Steve was instructed not to open his mouth except to give the same answers he’d already given, let Anne do most of the talking otherwise, keep his head up and appear confident that he’d done the right thing.

He had done the right thing, so it was easy to do.

Every moment he got with Eddie was special, his mom taking the guest room of the house and making it difficult for them to have any time alone.

But they still stole away in the evenings, when his mom decided to take a break from everything and shower and read her book for a bit. Eddie and Steve would take a bath together, Eddie washing Steve, Steve washing Eddie, touching every inch of each other with reverence as they silenced the moans with their mouths.

It wasn’t enough, but it would have to do for a while.

Steve cooked them breakfast every morning, Eddie wrapped his arms around his waist and rocked side to side, humming a song Steve didn’t know.

Eddie went to the shop while Steve stayed home and made sure his mom had everything she needed to do her job. He would bring Eddie a late lunch to take a break, and his mom would often go find a restaurant she deemed tolerable so she could enjoy a “decent salad, nobody makes a decent salad anymore, Steven.”

By the time dinner came around, Steve was feeling too much, and he had no way to feel better about it until Eddie got home.

Eddie would just know.

He’d pull him against his chest, run his hands up and down his back for a minute, then tug on his hair just right, just the way Steve craved.

It wasn’t enough to float, not even enough to drift a bit on the edge, but it was enough to make him feel like Eddie knew what he needed and would help as soon as he could.

“Your mom in the kitchen?” Eddie whispered against his head.

“Mhm.”

“She okay?”

“Yeah. Said we should be hearing anytime now about everything.”

“Did you talk about her treatments yet?”

Steve shook his head against Eddie’s chest.

“She doesn’t want to?”

Steve shook his head again.

“Want me to ask?”

“No. I just want you to be here with me when I do. Is that okay?”

“Of course it is, sunshine,” Eddie kissed the top of his head and pulled away so he could head into the kitchen to start making dinner.

It was smooth, or at least as smooth as it could be with an extra person in the house who was toeing the line between welcome and nuisance.

Eddie was making steak salad tonight, at his mom’s request, because he was incredible and a small part of Steve loved seeing that Eddie was doing whatever it took to keep her happy, to keep the peace between them.

“Hi, Anne. How’s today been?” Eddie asked as he moved towards the fridge to pull everything out to start prepping.

“It’s been another day, Edward. How was your day?”

“Had another first tattoo today. Those are always interesting,” he sent a knowing look to Steve, who was shaking his head slowly.

“Oh? Do you get them often?”

“Honestly, no. Steve was my first first in a while. This was a friend of a friend who only trusted me to do it.”

Steve froze.

Somehow, Steve had managed to hide his tattoos from his mom the entire time. He’d been wearing Eddie’s hoodies around the house and long sleeve shirts and blazers or jackets for the meetings.

Eddie must have realized what happened as he turned to see Anne’s eyes searching Steve’s visible skin.

“You have a tattoo?”

“I have two.”

“Steven, tattoos aren’t very professional for your line of work.”

Eddie was standing at attention now, ready to step in the moment Steve needed him, but waiting for a signal of any kind.

“I got them in places that can be hidden. You haven’t seen them the entire time.”

“What could you possibly have gotten tattooed?”

“Will made me a sun painting and I decided I wanted it as a tattoo. Eddie did it on my wrist. Then I got a robin done.”

“This is the Will that you helped?”

“Yes.”

“Can I see?”

Her voice was much gentler now, almost too kind compared to what Steve was used to when she was disappointed in him.

Steve rolled the sleeve of his hoodie up, holding it out towards his mom as she sat at the table.

She took his wrist and turned it back and forth as she looked at the sun.

“He’s quite talented,” she said softly.

“He is.”

“I’m proud of you, Steve.”

Steve’s heart stopped, his eyes widened, and he felt his eyes flood with tears.

His parents had never said that to him, not when he made the varsity basketball team a year earlier than most people do, not when they won a championship, not when he made swim team captain as a junior, not when he graduated high school, not ever.

He’d stopped expecting to hear it eventually, especially when he’d cut himself off from them.

But some part of him, probably his inner child who had craved hearing those words for his entire life, felt incredibly overwhelmed at the way his mother was looking at him with tears in her eyes.

He distantly heard Eddie walk out of the room, and he struggled with the combination of feelings of relief and anxiety knowing that he wasn’t right there.

“I’m sorry I don’t tell you more, or ever, I guess. I know you’ve deserved to hear it so much. I guess-” she took a shaky breath. “I guess it was easier for me to pretend I wasn’t proud because I had no hand in your accomplishments. It was selfish of me to think that way, and I know that no amount of apologies will make up for it, but I let my job and your father dictate my entire life to the point that I forgot my son needed me.”

“Mom-”

“Let me finish first, please,” she held her hand up to stop him. “As I’ve been working on this entire situation, I’ve read through the interviews the school board conducted with Will, with his mom, with his brother, with other students, with the principal. Everyone loves you, everyone is on your side. Your own principal said the school would never be the same if you weren’t given another chance, that they would never find anyone as valuable as you are. The place I went to lunch the other day saw my last name and asked if I was related to you, and when I told them I was your mom, they gave me lunch for free because you helped the owner rebuild his shed when a snowstorm collapsed the roof last winter. And Eddie. Honey, that boy looks at you like you’re his sun. I cannot believe you’ve only been together a couple weeks. I don’t think I’ve ever felt the way you two feel about each other. Robin wanted to kill me when I walked into your apartment, and I assume it’s because she knows I haven’t ever been a good mom to you, and she’s right for wanting to protect you like that. I was never around to protect you, and probably caused more pain than anything, and I will spend as much time as it takes to try to make up for it.”

Steve was crying, the tears running down his face, soaking his hoodie, his vision so blurry he could barely even see that his mother was crying, too.

She stood up and pulled him against her, her head resting against his shoulder, his head resting against the top of her head.

“Honey, I’m so sorry,” she sobbed into his hoodie, her voice muffled but still audible.

“Why wasn’t I enough to be proud of?” Steve asked, his voice breaking.

“Oh, darling, you were. I promise you were. This isn’t anything you did wrong, or didn’t do well enough, this is all me failing you. You deserved to know I was proud of you, but I didn’t stop to think about how much not telling you would hurt you. That was my fault, not yours., you understand?”

Steve nodded, letting out another sob.

Suddenly, Eddie’s hand was on his lower back, and Steve’s body instantly relaxed.

“Sorry to interrupt, but your phone keeps ringing, and I figured it must be important if they keep trying,” Eddie said quietly, softly, the gentlest interruption he could possibly have made to their moment.

Steve pulled away sniffling, wiping his eyes as his mother did the same.

He reached for his phone, a new set of vibrations alerting him to another phone call.

“Hello?” Steve answered, hoping his voice didn’t give away the emotions of the last 15 minutes.

“Mr. Harrington, so sorry to keep calling like this, but I wanted to make sure to reach you before the school board official called.”

Principal Graves’ voice sounded excited, barely containing something that Steve hoped was good news.

“Is everything okay?”

“They’re going to be calling with the scheduled hearing for all parties involved today. They only do this when they’re pretty sure about reinstating someone, so I have a very good feeling you’ll be coming back to work within the next week.”

Steve started crying again.

Eddie and his mom looked at him concerned, but he gave them a wet smile to show that he was okay.

“I’ll get to talk to Will there?”

“This is why you’re the only person qualified for this job. The person filling in for you doesn’t believe in weekly sessions with students, says it causes students to become too attached to the counselor and services. I can’t wait to see her go. You didn’t hear that from me though.”

Steve let out a laugh, his tears finally slowing down, and his head falling to rest on Eddie’s shoulder.

“I miss my kids,” Steve admitted, closing his eyes when Eddie’s hand rubbed up and down his back comfortingly.

“They miss you. We all do. We owe a lot to your mother for how quickly this has turned in your favor. This could have gone on for another month at the rate they wanted to do things. She’s an impressive woman.”

Steve watched as his mother sat back down at the table to write something down in her notes with a smile.

“Yeah, she is.”

He wrapped up the call so he could be available for the school board call, thanking the principal multiple times for her help. He knew she struggled with filing a report at all, that she was only doing her job.

When he hung up, he explained everything to Eddie and his mom, getting interrupted halfway through by a kiss from Eddie, their teeth clacking together because of the broad smiles on both their faces.

When the call from the school board came through, Steve was sitting on the couch while Eddie prepared dinner in the kitchen, having a casual conversation with his mom while she worked at the dining room table.

On Monday, his entire future would be decided, and hopefully, he’d be back in his office to make a difference.

—------------------------------

When Monday came, Robin and Chrissy met Eddie and Steve at the school board office an hour early.

“Your mom coming?”

“She had a phone call with her doctor this morning so she should be here soon,” Steve said.

They’d talked over dinner a few nights before about her treatments, and how she had been putting it off for work, but also putting it off because she was scared. Steve told her she had to take care of herself, that her health needed to take priority, and if she needed to have support through it, he would be there.

Eddie took it a step further, and offered her the guest room during her treatments so she didn’t have to be alone.

Steve loved him so much.

“Should we wait inside?” Chrissy asked, holding onto Robin’s hand.

“You guys go in. I just wanna talk to Steve for a second,” Eddie said, wrapping his arm around Steve’s waist.

Chrissy smirked, but didn’t say anything as she guided Robin inside.

Steve turned to Eddie, nervous smile on his face.

“What is it, baby?”

“I just wanted to say that no matter what, I’m in this with you. We’ll figure it out if things don’t go as planned, and nothing with us is going to change. You’re an incredible person and counselor, sunshine, and if they can’t see that, they don’t deserve you,” Eddie pecked his lips quickly to emphasize his words.

“Thank you, Eds. I love you.”

“I love you, sweetheart.”

With one more quick kiss, they parted, and made their way inside to find the room the hearing would take place in.

When they found it, the Byers were already there, and Will looked ready to vibrate out of his seat when he noticed Steve walk in.

He looked to Joyce, silently begging for permission to go to Steve. When she nodded with a smile, Will shot up out of his seat, nearly tripping on his own feet to run towards him.

Steve nearly fell backwards with the force of the hug, Will’s arms wrapping around him as he let out a sob. Eddie held them both up as Steve found his balance again, smiling down at them.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t have said anything to anyone. Mom’s trying to put together a fund for you so you can still pay your bills and Jonathan booked a show and the band is gonna give up their money from it to help you. And I made you a painting, but I couldn’t give it to you because Mom said it would possibly be worse if we tried to talk to you while they did everything. And I hate the new counselor, she’s terrible. She said if I need weekly services I should see a therapist and didn’t understand that we can’t afford one, that’s why I talk to you, but she just kept saying there are ‘resources for people in poverty’ which, we know, but they’re terrible and there’s a long wait list or else I would have already tried and-”

“Woah, buddy. Take a deep breath.” Steve helped him take a couple deep breaths and smiled down at Will. “It’s gonna be okay. Even if today doesn’t go well, I can still help you somehow. And you don’t have to worry about the money, you guys are amazing, but I’m doing fine.”

“Mom brought you a check already today. You can’t leave without it.”

Steve shook his head.

“Keep it. Use it for art supplies or something. I’ve got my bills paid and if today goes well, I’ll be back to work very soon.”

Will looked like he wanted to continue to argue, but Anne walked in, followed by Principal Graves and a few school board officials that Steve recognized as the interviewers for the case.

“You must be Will,” Anne said as she walked up to them.

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Oh, don’t do that. I fear I’m looking much older than I wish to these days and that doesn’t help. I’m Mr. Harrington’s mom, Anne.”

“Nice to meet you, Mrs. Anne.”

“You’re an outstanding artist, Will. I’d love to commission you for a piece for my office when you are done with school for the year.”

Will’s jaw dropped, and Steve couldn’t help the little giggle he let out.

His mother had only told him about that plan the day before, and he wholeheartedly agreed with it.

“Like, for money?”

“Of course. We’ll discuss it more when we get past this little bump in the road, okay?”

Will nodded, his mouth still open in shock.

“Attention everyone, please take your seats so we may begin,” a loud, deep voice echoed through the room.

Everyone followed instructions quickly, silent agreement that this needed to be over with as soon as possible.

Steve was nervous. He’d done okay up until this point, relying on his mom to explain technical things to him and Eddie to help him stay grounded and relaxed as much as possible.

But neither of them could do that now. Now, it was up to everyone at the front of the room to make a decision, a decision they probably already made, that would determine if Steve left here with a job or without one.

“As all of you know, I am the lead official investigator for this case, Mr. Hammond. We have spent many days conducting individual interviews with all parties present, as well as group interviews and other individual interviews with students and teachers at the school. We are here today to allow both sides to state anything they may have left out during interviews before we make our final recommendation on Mr. Harrington’s employment.” He cleared his throat before turning to look at Joyce and Will. “We will begin with you both. You are not required to add anything, but if you feel there is anything else you’d like to say, now is your chance.”

Will stood up immediately.

“I’d like to say something, please.”

The group in front nodded.

“Mr. H has been the best thing about school for me. He’s helped me really feel comfortable with myself, and helped me make new friends, and helped me understand that my art can be special to me and can provide a future for me if I try hard enough. No other counselor or teacher has ever been there like he has. My grades have suffered since he was sent home,” he sighed. Steve didn’t know that, and he felt anger rise up as he thought of the counselor in his place turning Will away while he struggled. “I haven’t been able to focus on my portfolio. I get encouragement from my mom, but she works hard and sometimes it’s just nice for someone who isn’t related to me to offer their support. Mr. H was that support for me, and no matter what decision you make today, I know he will do his best to still give it to me in whatever way he can.”

“Thank you, Will.” A woman next to Mr. Hammond gave him a smile. “Anything else?”

“No, thank you.”

Will sat down and Joyce hugged him, whispering something into his ear that no one could hear.

“Mr. Harrington, now is your chance to speak. You may say anything you wish to discuss your actions.”

Steve looked at Anne, who nodded at him encouragingly. They’d agreed the day before that she would only step in if things got ugly, and it seemed calm enough that he could speak on his own.

“Thank you,” he said as he stood. “I believe I spoke a lot during my interviews about how much my students, not just Will, mean to me. I got into this profession because I want to be a support for kids who may not always have it. That isn’t to say Ms. Byers doesn’t support him, but she’s a hardworking single mom, and it does take a village to raise a child, as we all know. When I first met Will, he barely spoke to anyone, he was barely passing his classes, and he was on his way to being a statistic that doesn’t look good for the community, the school, or himself. After a few sessions, he started opening up a bit more to me, and I saw a major improvement in his grades. He started making friends, he started becoming more involved in school activities like art club, and even got encouraged to apply for an elite art program. As you all are aware, his mother barely makes enough money to pay the necessary bills, and an art program like the one Will deserves to be a part of requires a lot of funding just to apply. He came to me as a trusted person to ask for help, which is something we encourage all students to do without fear of punishment. Instead of that happening, he was punished. I was punished as well, and trust me, it’s been difficult, but this entire time, I’ve been worried more about the impact this will have on Will.”

Steve looked over at Will, who was wiping tears from his face.

“My boyfriend Eddie was the one offering financial assistance. If you remember, he knew the Byers before we were even together. He knows what Will is capable of and didn’t want him to lose out on a big opportunity for his future because of a couple hundred dollars. I supported them because Will deserves it. If our job is to care for these kids, and make sure they have bright futures, then that’s what we did. Punishing any of us for it seems like the opposite of what our mission is. It’s been a privilege to be able to provide Will, and many other students, a safe place to be themselves, and I hope to continue to do that in this school.”

Steve sat down before anyone responded, his mom squeezing his shoulder and Eddie taking his hand.

“Thank you, Mr. Harrington. If you would give us all a few minutes to deliberate in the other room, we will be back shortly,” Mr. Hammond said seriously.

As they filed out, Steve’s nerves grew exponentially.

His legs were bouncing up and down until Eddie’s hands were on his knees, putting pressure on them to keep them still.

“Look at me, Stevie. That’s it, good boy,” Eddie whispered to him. Anne was busy speaking with Joyce and Will, so they were practically alone. “You did amazing. They’d be idiots not to reinstate you. If you’re not back in your office tomorrow, I’ll move us to another school district so you can find a new job. Will can come, too.”

Steve let out a small giggle at the thought of moving their entire lives just so he could have another chance to be a counselor somewhere.

“Everyone here knows you did the right thing. That’s what matters most. We’re all proud of you.”

Steve nodded.

He looked behind him at Robin and Chrissy, who both waved when he looked back, their hands still clasped between them.

He sat silently for a few minutes, looking down at his lap, trying to believe Eddie’s words, but not get his hopes up too much in case things went badly.

The door opened.

The group walked in.

No one’s face gave anything away.

Steve’s nerves grew, but Eddie’s hand in his kept him here.

“Thank you for your patience,” Mr. Hammond stated. “At this time, will Mr. Harrington please stand?”

Steve stood, his legs wobbling slightly as he let go of Eddie’s hand.

He felt every eye on him.

“Mr. Harrington, you understand that this has all been following a very strict policy in regards to confidentiality and personal relationships with students?”

“Yes, sir.”

“You understand it was our responsibility to fully investigate all claims made to ensure the safety of the student in question?”

“Yes, sir.”

“You understand that reinstatement of your position will still show this investigation on your record?”

Steve heard Will cheering before he truly registered what was being said.

“I’m sorry?”

Mr. Hammond smirked. The rest of the group was smiling at him.

“You’ve been reinstated as of today. You may resume your position as guidance counselor as early as tomorrow. Please keep in mind any future claims will require an immediate suspension of duties. Please stay here while the paperwork is drawn up for signatures. Thank you all for your cooperation.” Mr. Hammond turned to Will. “And good luck to you, Will. Your art is quite spectacular and deserves a place in that art program.”

“Thank you!” Will said, maybe a bit too loudly for the location and occasion, but it just made everyone let out laughs at his excitement.

Eddie was suddenly pulling him into his arms, kissing the top of his head and saying so many lovely things that Steve could barely hear.

“You’re incredible, oh my God, I’m so happy for you,” he whispered into his ear before Anne got in between them.

“Let me hug my son!” She said half-jokingly. Eddie let him go so he could be enveloped in his mom’s arms. “I’m so proud of you, honey. I knew you’d be fine.”

“Probably not without you,” Steve admitted.

“Maybe, maybe not. Important thing is you get to go back to work and make a difference for these kids, right?”

He nodded and then got wrapped up in Robin’s arms.

“You did it dingus! You get to be back with the rugrats!” She was bouncing up and down, making the hug a bit awkward, but Steve was used to her energy.

“Congrats, Steve. I’m so happy for you,” Chrissy added from behind her.

Steve felt loved.

So many people came to support him, to show him that no matter what decision was made, they were on his side. That he mattered.

But he didn’t really start crying until Will was hugging him again, thanking him over and over again for being the best and for not giving up and for caring so much.

He let Will sit next to him while he signed all the paperwork, his mom reviewing everything before he did so.

Will was telling him all about the piece he started working on in art club, and how he thought it was good enough for his portfolio, but kind of wanted to get his opinion first. Steve listened, unable to stop smiling at his excitement.

It was contagious, the excitement.

Everyone in the room seemed to feel it, all of them practically bouncing in place as they waited for Steve to finish.

When he did, Anne took everyone out to a celebratory brunch, bribed Joyce to keep Will out of school for the whole day with the promise of the best mimosas she’s ever had.

As Steve rode home after in the passenger seat of Eddie’s car, he looked down at his sun tattoo.

Somehow, despite every cloud in the way, he was still shining.

“You okay, sunshine?” Eddie was looking over at him out of the corner of his eye, a smile pretty much permanently plastered on his face since the decision was made.

“I’m perfect,” he replied.

He’d never been perfect before. He’d never thought perfect was attainable.

But perfect to him wasn’t the lack of problems or imperfections, it was knowing that even with them, he was happy.

He felt bright. He felt warm. And with Eddie next to him, he felt like the sun.

epilogue

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[castrianamore]

You Can’t Teach an Old God New Tricks

DC x DP Crossover

TW: Cannon-Typical violence+ some stuff, panic attacks, terrorist-like attack, Injury

Prologue

What was he doing? Really. Tonight felt off.

There was an eeriness to the air even more so than usual. Tim didn’t know how to take Gotham somehow feeling worse than usual. It was his solo night which was normally nice unless the night was young and then silence set upon Gotham.

“Anyone else not getting good vibes?” Tim’s voice broke the silence into the group coms. Tim could hear Jason finishing beating the shit out of someone. Just slightly labored breath.

“I’ve been riding around and only seen one instance of trouble. Either Gotham’s in a good mood or…” 

“Something worse is going to happen.” Dick finished for him. Nightwing or rather Dick was working on his investigation tonight. Tim knew that much and had been trying to let him help. He was a pretty good detective he could say so himself. 

“What do you think Batman?”

“I don’t know but something is always up in this city. It’s another night. We won’t let anything else happen to it anyways.” 

“Fair fair, oh hey! I see you Babybird!!!” Tim perked up looking around and seeing Nightwing obnoxiously waving from a rather large distance. If it weren’t for his special lenses in his mask he definitely would not have seen the man. 

“Oh? Yeah, I have something for you by the way,”Tim reached into his pocket before pretending to grab something and flipping him off with a smirk. 

“Wow real mature, Red!” 

“Thanks Hood’s been teaching me.” 

“Of course he did, see you on the flip side RR.” 

And Nightwing dropped from the building presumably running off to go work on something else. 

“What did you do that i taught you?”Jason replied a little delayed but still there. “I said stay down you mother fuck—“

“HAHA You have to put money in the swear jar!” Tim teased the elder man. 

“Careful Replacement. But what did I teach you that Night wing is being pissy about?”

“Oh I flipped him off.” 

“But we both flip him off all the time I don’t?” Jason sounded mildly confused.

“I pretended I was showing him something.” 

“Okay that makes sense now.” A small grunt of reply from Tim. He sighs and moves across the building hopping to the next and the next. However…

As Tim jumped to the next a building exploded throwing him into a building’s wall and down into an alley way. His back hitting the hard industrial trash can before making contact with the alleyway floor. 

His world was spinning. He was sure he had a concussion. Had to have one with how hard he had been thrown. He was vaguely there for a moment as he collected himself hearing a brief conversation over the coms. 

That wall had hurt he was floating between consciousness and being a goner. He guessed he blacked out because when he woke up it was hard to breath. 

 His own breathing was heavy and the air was thick with smoke. Where was his air filter? He patted his suit getting up. Fuck! He had to have forgotten it in the batcave. How could he forget it in the batcave. 

 An echoing evil laugh sent a shiver down Tim’s spine. What the fuck was he doing. He moved his hand to his ear as he peaked around the corner of the building to see what was going on. Flames lit the night sky up in a beautiful orange hue but the Smokey fog made things hard to see. He touched his forehead feeling blood and wiped it away for a moment. No use worrying about it now it would have to be treated later 

 Fuck it was hard to breath. 

 A large ominous figure floated above the city of Gotham. A flame covered crown floating above his head. 

This was supposed to have been a normal night of patrols. His shift. Red Robin’s shift. Nightwing had his own investigations to run and Batman was requested at Arkham asylum for a moment by one of the members of the staff. Tim didn’t really care much in that aspect. 

 But tonight wasn’t supposed to bring trouble. No one had expected the explosions. The earthquakes and tremors through the Earth’s rock and crust as the concrete cracked and broke and a few buildings exploded. 

A silent pressure falling over the city so quickly to  lift to the flames. The city that seemingly reached towards the welcoming embers. The screams echoing in his ears as Rubble had scattered around him as the first explosions had gone off and a figure appeared.

 “You guys seeing this?” Tim whispered into the coms.

 “How could we not? It’s only at least as tall as most buildings around Gotham and FLOATING,”Dick whisper yelled. 

 “Scarred Dickie-bird?”

 “Shut up Little wing.” 

 “Does anyone have visual on our target?” Batman’s voice silenced the trio of brothers. “And does anyone have contact with Robin? He’s not showing up on coms?” 

 “Robin? No. I haven’t seen him since we finished our rounds last night.” Tim looked around him grappling to the top of the building to look around and try and get a good look on the person responsible for this. 

Definitely not human. Could they be Martian? No they tended to stay around the same size as humans and their natural forms. Who was this? 

The wind blew the smoke out of the way. A little as he ran from roof top to roof top a cloth over his mouth as he had one thing in mind. Get higher. He had to get higher. Out of the smoke. Out of the flames. See who he needed to fight. 

A cry came over the coms. “Out of commission guys.” 

“Nightwing!” Tim’s panicked voice rose as he stopped in his tracks as he lands on the next building eyes going from the ground to the sky. 

“Broken ankle and probably crushed my tibia on my left side,”his voice sounded strained. 

“What happened?” The stern voice of a concerned father slipped through Batman’s voice ready to tell the kids where to meet to help him.

“Got a few civilians out of a collapsing building but it collapsed and I didn’t get completely out of the way in time.” A deep breath of Nightwings familiar techniques to keep himself conscious and working. He’d definitely been through worse but if he was pinned? That was another question entirely. 

“Nightwing, Can you move?”

“Afraid not. This is a solid piece of wood on my leg Babybird.” 

“Hood you’re the closest can you get to him?” 

“Already on my way.” 

“Good.”

“I am so not whelmed right now.”

“RR?”

“Yeah?” 

“Do you have a better visual? I’m on my way back from Arkham.” 

“I do…” 

Tim’s eyes widened as he stared up at the figure. Midnight black armor with the flaming crown he could see through the smoke. Cape whipping in the wind as the man gave out a dark a chuckle. 

“And you think you Can stop me?” 

There was something—no someone in front of him. 

A weak cough came from the coms.

“This is Robin to the bats.” 

“ROBIN!” All of the bats in synchronized concern at hearing the youngest voice even if it was weak.

“Report, where are you? Now.” 

“Bat cave.” 

“But your readers aren’t..?”

“I was outside and had to bolt. I dropped it.”  

“You’re lying.” 

Tim could read Damian like a book. It wasn’t intentional but while the kid was a skilled assassin it didn’t change the fact he had awful people kills and even worse cover stories at times. Quick to anger. Quick to prove wrong too, sometimes.

“Shut up Red.” 

“Now is not the time to be playing games Robin. Are you hurt?” 

“I was taking down a gambling den and the building collapsed on top of us….” 

Silence fell over the group. Robin was trapped under a building with criminals. 

“Robin answer the question, are you hurt?” It was Jason this time. The faint sounds of win whipping past and a familiar hum of his motorcycle. Dammit his own motorcycle was probably gone once again. This time more than likely destroyed due to the debris and explosions. Jason was probably on his way to Dick’s location. 

“Yes.”

“How badly?” Tim couldn’t help the mild panic in his voice. Damian would be okay, he knew that but his brotherly instinct kicked in for the youngest Robin. He wanted to protect Damian. As much of a nuisance and trouble maker the child was he was still family. His family.

“I think my right arm got dislocated but I popped it back into place. My left wrist I think is fractured. Definitely a broken rib or two.” His shallow breathing and tremors were concerning. 

“Anything else?” 

“I don’t know how much air I’ll have down here. I don’t think anyone else made it, I’m small so that should buy me time and if I can get my breathing under control until rescue services arrive I might be able fo last.” 

Robin was trapped under a building with little air to breath and several broken bones and possible fractures.

No one wanted to breath as it dawned on them how serious this entire situation was. However, before anyone could say another word into the communication devices they were cut off. 

“Citizens of the Mortal plane!”

Not that anyone would talk now.

“Red! All I’m picking up is static from your end? What’s going on?”

“I don’t know… the figure it’s talking!” Tim looked up in horror as the smile across the figured face grew and grew with ever sharper teeth and eyes that seemed to be focused exclusively on you and only you. He couldn’t move? Of course he couldn’t move that creature. That thing was terrifying.

“I am here to take control of this existence and your wretched short lives will serve me well. You may call me, Pariah Dark. The Ghost King. The king of the Infinite Realms! You’re new overlord, or your new butcher!” 

“Red how close are you?” Jason’s voice. “Red how close are you to that THING?!?!” 

“Red!”

“RED ROBIN ANSWER US!!!” Tim wasn’t sure if he could. It felt like his bones had turned to mush and his eyes were focused and trapped on the one thing. He couldn’t move. 

The longer the being talked the more static filled his ears as the radios and comms were filled with noice and a high pitched sharp sound caught him off guard as he desperately clawed out the coms throwing it out of his ear in pain. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. 

He could feel the ringing in his ears and the blood trickling down his cheeks as he slowly reached up to touch it. Did his comms just bust his ear drum? He looked around again. His hearing was dulled. It had definitely busted his ear drum. 

“You will bow down to me or you will pay a severe price!” 

A loud explosion called the man, Pariah Dark, to look in that direction. In a glowing mass of green was another figure. Much smaller but if Tim hadn’t known any better he would say easily more powerful than the so called King of Infinite Realms. But what the fuck was that? How did his coms glitch out so severely to hurt him? 

He stood up wearily trying to get closer to the duo. In his head he could hear Nightwing and Jason screaming for him to stay where he was until they could get backup, but Tim knew backup wasn’t coming.

Ghosts were real. The dead could walk amongst the living and haunt people. Had they messed up so badly as humanity that the dead had to come back and teach them a lesson? Was this a chance? A coincidence? He prayed not, but one thing was for sure about this ghost. About this situation he found himself in. 

The king stood right in front of him and they needed intel. He had to overhear what was happening to help his family because…

Dick was severely injured.

Damian was trapped and injured 

Bruce was too far away. 

Jason had to help Dick or Damian. 

His electronics were no longer working. No coms. No tracking. No maps. Nothing. 

The only one left to get anything useful was himself, and he swore he would do that. The smoke blowing in front of him gave him trouble seeing the figure floating in front of Pariah. The size of a normal human being but was obviously far from normal.

White hair glowing bright and just slightly floating around him. The faint Green light he gave off with the aura of Superman if not far more powerful. Tim didn’t even realize his hands were shaking. The figures arms were crossed and despite being in the presence of someone so powerful the figure seemed relaxed.

Tim placed a hand to his wrist checking his pulse. It was highly elevated was he… was he scared. Yes. He was, but as the figure opened his mouth to speak that fear changed to terror. 

An unearthly wail of immeasurable incomprehension filled his ears. These were words, but his mind could not process the language, the pronunciation. Part of him felt as if he knew exactly what the man was saying. The words harsh and strangely familiar. The sounds caused Tim to cover his ears, even if already dulled from having lost one ear drum for the moment. It would not stop the true paralysis of fear in his bones. 

He couldn’t breath. Fuck. No. Take in a breath dammit.

Breath Tim! The smoke choked his lungs and his panic attack began to set into his veins which didn’t help his case. 

He shook. Knees on the gravel roof hands over his ears. Tears slipping from his eyes catching on his mask, before rolling down his cheek. 

Did this make him a coward?

He was petrified. How could they fight something like that? It was far too strong to be human, to be a ghost even. Too … too what?

No, what stood in front of them with a catch of a gleaming smile of razor sharp teeth and glowing green eyes, had to have been a god. The power. The fear.

Tim didn’t know what happened next. 

He just knew he blacked out and woke up struggling to breath in Jason’s arms eyes wide as he clutched his brother desperately. Jason kept his grip on him tight.

“Is-is it gone. Is that THING gone?!?!!” 

Jason have him a small shush holding him still in Tim’s bedroom. “Tim, it’s been a week since that creature was defeated. Take a deep breath. “ 

What.

Slowly he looked up at Jason. The tired eyes and a stitched together cut on his forehead telling him that yes. Time had passed. He had been asleep. It was the only thing that made sense.

“Is Damian? Is Dick are they? Are they okay!!?! I need to see them! I need to make sure that they’re.” 

The feral attempt to get out of his brother’s arms in a frenzy of panic and anger and confusion and worry only had his brother’s arms growing tighter around him. 

“Tim. Tim. Tim .” Jason’s stern voice shook the younger one for a moment though he should have been far more used to it than he had been. “They’re safe. You’re safe. Anyone who was within the immediate hearing range of that fight have been recorded with onset anxiety, panic attacks. Seizure’s, etc. Some jumped off roofs, out windows to escape whatever it was..” 

“Am I okay?” 

Tim knew he probably looked broken. Hands slipping past his brother’s arms to cover his ears as his mind began to properly take in what had happened. He had passed out from the overwhelming panic and inability to breath on that roof. Jason had said people had been terrified. Rightfully so. That creature was the stuff of nightmares. Anything who had to go toe to toe with them should be fearful. Jason explained a bit more but Tim was already too far gone again staring down at the blankets his heart monitor beeping away next to him.

His heart began to pick up slowly. Jason’s hand on his arm as his eyes grew wide again. He knew what it meant now.

“What did… what did that do to me? What did It do to them?” 

Jason looked at him extremely concerned.

“Tim, what do you mean? What happened to you?”

What that creature had said, and he had no idea how he knew this considering all recordings of the event merely ended up as static from his broken electronics, more than likely. Right as he saw Damian enter the room in several casts. He glanced up at him his eyes glazing over once more. 


“I am Phantom, and I will destroy you for touching what is mine, you will be the King of Nothing when I am finished with you.” 

Tim didn’t remember much else after that. Merely Jason and Damian having to call for Alfred. Tim was told later that week that he had been in an out of seizure fits for a while. For another week. He had never had seizures in his life but now? That event had changed his brain.

It was another month and a half before Bruce let him back out on duty. And still another 3 before he was allowed to solo.

Tim occasionally could feel the seizure’s coming on but only rarely, But the days went on and years passed. 

Tim never forgot those words. He prayed that remembering that fearful night would never amount to anything.

Original Post and ao3 links:

[pushovermediacritic]

I think Dragon Ball Daima will have a twist main villain.

I don't think the final boss will be Gomah. They've already foreshadowed that Gomah could gain unbelievable power with the Evil Third Eye, but having "unbelievable power" be tied to an artifact that needs to be equipped and can be lost makes it ripe for betrayal and subversion.

The way I see it, there are two main candidates for True Main Villain of Dragon Ball Daima.

The first is Dr. Arinsu.

She's the most obvious choice. She's an evil scientist with a design that is reminiscent of Towa. She's also a Core Person, the sister of the Makaioshin. And she's been shown to be sneaky and scary already. If they want to canonize Towa, or something like her, Dr. Arinsu is the best bet.

But I think she's a red herring. I think she will have a moment where it looks like she'll be the True Main Villain, only for it to fall out from under her.

The second is Neva.

Yes, the geriatric old man Namekian. I think Neva will be the twist main villain of Dragon Ball Daima. The first episode set him up as this stinky old grandpa, until it revealed that he's actually extremely powerful in Dragon Ball magic, able to sense, summon, and restore Earth's Dragon Balls. And also extremely knowledgeable.

Also the episode subtly revolves around him. Gomah can't use the Demon World Dragon Balls because all three of them are guarded by Kamen Rider-looking creatures called Tamagamis. I think the Tamagamis are obviously going to be mini-bosses for Goku to fight near the end of the series, but it should be remembered that Neva created both the Dragon Balls and the Tamagamis themselves.

In order for Neva to create the powerful Tamagami warriors, he must have used some very powerful creation magic indeed. These are guardians that Gomah, the current Demon King, is terrified of, and they bow to Neva. No-one has made a wish on the Dragon Balls for a long time because of those Tamagami warriors, and that presumably includes Dabura, back when he was Demon King.

The episode also makes multiple references to Namekian lore, almost like it's an important plot point.

Neva says that he hasn't seen a Namekian in thousands of years. Thousands. PLURAL. That's insanely long-lived, even for a Namekian. The climate catastrophe that Kami was sent away from only happened 500 years ago. He did this favor for Gomah in exchange for having 1000 more years of life, presumably this isn't the first time he's made deals like this to artificially extend his lifespan.

My assumption is that collecting the Demon World Dragon Balls is going to be Goku's main quest in the Demon World, for whatever reason. And I think Neva has some grand master plan, where he created the Tamagamis and sealed away the Demon World Dragon Balls for some reason, and now that he's met other Namekians and the Evil Third Eye will be found, that will be the moment he's been waiting for.

Also, he just gives me creepy vibes. Maybe it's the black rings around his eyes that make it look like he knows more than he's letting on. Maybe it's the fact that his eyes turned red when using magic, or he let out an evil cackle when restoring the Dragon Balls.

[francesderwent]

Thoughts on arcane 4-6

1. Isha just frankly didn't bring anything so far that wouldn't have been strengthened without her! Vi could EASILY have been about to kill Jinx at the end of 3 and then been unable to do it because that's her sister, try to talk down Cait, Jinx's desperate need for revenge cooled due to that, Sevika could have been the one imprisoned meaning Jinx had to go to the prison because they do care about each other in a fucked up way, and then Jinx gets Vi to help after meeting Vander. The entire story would work with previously known characters, and I just feel it would have had much more emotional depth than introducing this new, completely unintegrated character and saying yeah haha jinx isn't killing people anyone because she's hanging out with a child. Cut it!

2. It DOES weaken the backstory but vi jinx and vander reconciliation made me emotional.

3. Regarding point 2 - I will allow the weakening of Jinx as a father killer IF Vander survives into act 3 which the preview suggests he will and vi is forced to kill vander to protect innocents, thus making her and Jinx mirrors. That would slay I truly believe.

4. WHERE ARE THE BOYZ (Ekko and Heimerdinger boy band)

5. Of course it's Jayce fucks this all up (said with understanding that he's not actively malicious but also wtf).

6. See I reckon there could be FASCINATING parallels between the cult, which clearly tampers with people's minds and emotions to an extent, and Ekko's paradise which is just people trying to be good, but unfortunately the show writers this season are not as smart as me.

7. The way I'm actually really liking Mel out of absolutely nowhere all she needed was to be trapped in a mind prison and become a mage for me to be like wait...

oh, I agree, she’s an unnecessary plot device lol. the only one of the moments you list that I think Isha does enhance is Vi being unable to kill Jinx—because if three episodes in, we get Vi realizing that IN HERSELF she is unable to kill her sister, no matter what she’s done, where do we go from there? that’s practically the end of the whole arc. whereas in the scene as it exists, Vi gets to realize “I’m not willing to hurt anyone and everything in order to destroy evil” which separates her from Cait in that moment, AND she gets to realize “there might still be something good in my sister and yet she’s still not my same little sister anymore”. it lets Jinx appear as an equal for a moment! which is such a crazy moment as an older sibling, when you look at them and realize hey they’re not a kid anymore!! this, I think, COULD have set us up for really interesting sibling dynamics moving forward, with Vi still kind of on the “we need to defeat Jinx” train, but conflicted about it and more worried about the collateral. Obviously they didn’t do it, and it didn’t work. But I think this would have ESPECIALLY worked if they built up Isha in the first three episodes (by letting her TALK for example), and then had Cait take a second shot after Vi tries to stop her and actually genuinely kill Isha in this scene, or had Isha be a casualty of the explosion Jinx set off, or something.

I’m genuinely happy for you but it just annoyed me haha. I was devastated they would do that to Vander, and then I was insulted that presumably the whole point of them inventing Vander in the first place was to turn him into this league of legends wolfman

that is so fucked up and I am so impressed by you thinking of it

WHERE ARE THE BOYS????????? they really said “here are our incorruptible characters. they’ve teamed up. you will never see them again”

getting possessed (?) is the most in-character thing for Jayce to do, he never had a mind of his own anyway

ooooooh the cult which demands you lay down your weapons! the firelights which take up arms against the people poisoning their streets! Viktor takes away people’s suffering, removing the negatives—Ekko gives people a positive reason to LIVE

no seriously, honestly I think they just had to get her away from her favorite hobby of leading Jayce by the nose and I was like “hmmm slay perhaps?”

[felonytaxevasion]

Arc 1 - Bonds

My assorted commentary on the first chapter of Pact for my mutuals who were interested in my thoughts. Testing out formatting this might be mess thank you for your patience.

As always no spoilers please thank you <333

This is technically my second time reading this but I wasn't paying attention the first time so I wanted to start over

1.1

“My children are useless,” she said. She was so dismissive and casual about it.

First of all. Icon. I absolutely love wretched old women and I love having the foresight of knowing practitioners cant lie meaning that this is presumably an objective evaluation of her children's capabilities. I'm also gonna watch out for Blake's mom and Aunt Stephanie though. They aren't included in that statement so maybe we can have an evil magic milf era. Like in Umineko. I love Umineko.

If anything I’d said had an impact, it was that. I could see the faint amusement drop away from her. “Are you accusing me of being a liar, Master Blake?”

aHA BECAUSE PRACTITIONER RULES

It was well after dark when someone stepped outside to talk to me. I closed out of the puzzle game I was playing on my phone. The brightness of the screen made for a dark patch that lingered in my vision as I looked up. Eleven-fifty at night.

This is an interesting writing choice because it's clear that a lot of time has passed but not exactly how much. Which adds mystery to the question of "was Rose planned all along or did Rose Sr. make an impulse choice after talking with Blake.

Also I really wanna know. When Rose met Ivy did her parents bring her in and talk or did they just set the baby on the bed and leave.

“Molly! Don’t be rash!” Aunt Irene admonished her. “I don’t want it,” Molly said, again. She grabbed the footboard of the bed. “No.“ “Molly, don’t be silly.”

Molly is one of the biggest reasons I don't want spoilers. Everything about her is so interesting. She was the first choice but she died very quickly. But not THAT quickly. Was Rose 2 always the plan and Molly was the sacrificial lamb to pave the way or was Molly just genuinely the best choice to become heiress. She survived for four months which is, if Pact is paced similarly to Worm, long enough to survive Leviathan, The Slaughterhouse Nine, Coil, and Echidna or whatever their equivalent in Pact land is. And that is no small feat. Like obviously I'm assuming here but I can't imagine the combined forces of Jacobs Bell were just letting her chill. I have so many questions about her and I want answers to none of them.

The blonde woman opposite him folded her hands in front of her. “That was… noteworthy in scale. Kind of her to point the way, but she was never crude. We’ll need to know what she did before we move on.”

THIS SHIT RIGHT HERE. Noteworthy in scale. Rose is not a small feat. Why are she and Blake positioned as the backup plan. Thinking so hard

“Funny thing, Maggie,” Padraic said, and when he smiled, the expression extended further than it should have. The smile too wide, the eyes too long and narrow. “When something momentous occurs, it can be the equivalent of lighting up the night sky, scattering fog and clouds to the horizons. You can see more clearly… but when you look, they can look back, too.”

Maggie and Padraic are some of my favorite characters based on vibes alone. I just know they're going to die so horribly so early on. At least Maggie.

“Mm,” the man in the throne said. “‘Lo, stranger. Listen, I don’t think you should believe what any of them say about me. If you need help, I can offer it.” “For a price,” the dog added.

Now see Johannes I would love to give you the benefit of the doubt however I know for a fact (a pact fact!) I have not seen any fanart of you making out sloppy style with Blake Thorburn and as such I find it hard to believe you are his ally. The wildbow ecosystem is too yaoi deprived to not jump on that pairing unless you're some type of fucked up.

“Run,” she said. “Get to the house, now.” “Which house? Who-” “Molly’s dead,” she said. “You’re next.”

HAI ROSE

1.2

I actually don't have much commentary on this chapter other than RIP to BlakeRose but I would happily take the deal to become a creepy bird monster. That's the ideal living situation actually.

1.3

The first sheet had only a simple message, penned in a curling script I almost envied. ‘Birth date’. I tried the year I’d been born. It didn’t work. Day, month? One-eight-oh-one.

...

“Molly!” I hollered, loud enough I should have been audible throughout the house. “Anyone!?” No response. Somewhere, in my general confusion and the mess of stuff I didn’t know or understand, I’d hoped that Molly being alive would be one of those things that caught me off guard.

Not to needle at his grieving process but I'm pretty sure the fact that it was His Birthday Not Molly's that opened the door was a pretty clear sign

I shook my head. “No clue. Something to keep in mind. After stipulations, there’s a section on stipend, with a regular allowance, notes on how often the lawyers can be called without incurring a debt. Oh, right here. A mention of the bird-skull monsters.” “What?” I could see Rose move, standing from her seat. “I’m joking,” I said, with zero humor in my voice.

I think Wildbow should do what visual novels franchises do and make a non canon crossover beach themed spinoff episode with all his characters. I want to see Blake and Lisa be cunty together

My friends were artists and artistic types. I had the unfortunate distinction of being a less than stellar artist. But I’d owed them for the help and support they’d given me, and in helping them with their jobs, I’d stumbled onto a bit of work. Setting up their work, installations, as well as all the other grunt jobs. Sure, they could go to a carpenter to get something put together in the way of a display stand, but that carpenter wouldn’t necessarily know what was at play with the art. Along the way, I’d settled into being a go-to handyman and delivery guy in the local art community. I knew the gallery owners, I knew who was who, and if I couldn’t do a job myself, I knew who to call. Not so glamorous or fancy, not exactly stellar pay, but I had stupid little skills that I could use here. In a pinch, I could use my stride or my arm length to help me figure out measurements, thirty three and a half and thirty-two and a half inches, respectively.

So fun fact I was a gallery tech assistant for about three or four years in high school and I would just like the record to state. A. Wildbow you captured the gallery tech mentality exactly. Tired, sassy, and overall filled with peculiar useful skills. 100% accuracy rate.

Also Blake please call your friends sooner rather than later. The blond gallery tech who works for cheap going suddenly missing is going to DEVASTATE that community. Blake you are a protected species under the wildlife conservation act and the human equivalent of catnip for bisexuals with an art history degree you are the foundation of that community and they are going to be CONCERNED

1.4

She looked a little agitated, nervous. “I think we can go this route. Avoid getting into the ugliest stuff, the books on demons and whatever else. If witch hunters and inquisitors can survive this sort of thing, maybe we can too.” “Borrowing power instead of using it?”

I'm trying to figure out if Rose II is in on it. Because like. She should be right? But then she says things like this that make it sound like she really is just as lost as Blake

“In case you haven’t noticed, I’m kind of attached to you, metaphysically. You die, I’m going to be a goner too.” “You think. Either way, I’m the one who got injured,” I said. “I’m the one who has stitches in my hand and a cut on my face.” “At least you’re alive,” she retorted.

They've so immediately become siblings.

Which by the way. If Blake and Rose are fucked up twins of a sort. I have questions about Paige and Peter. Especially seeing as Paige is considered a non starter for Rose Senior

“In this scenario, we’ve got a situation involving a number of countries. If you will, there’s America. I’m rather interested in America for the purpose of this discussion, but that’s just me. Powerful, perhaps overly proud, large, keepers of the peace.” I glanced at his uniform. “Sure.”

Close enough. Welcome Back Victoria Dallon!!

1.5

“It smells like a rose,” a man announced, “It’s as beautiful as a rose. I dare say it’s as fragile as a rose, once you get past the thorns. But is it really our Rose?” I turned. Three twenty-somethings, if I went by appearances, were approaching me from behind. I might have been off. Each had alcohol in brown bags.

I want to be one of them so bad. I want to join the fucked up Fairie gang.

“No,” I said. I grabbed one of the books from the coffee table. “Anger is good.” “Good?” “It keeps us moving. You read the book on implements, I’ll read up on familiars when I’m done Essentials.”

True gallery tech mindset <3

1.6

“Blake!” Rose’s voice, from the living room. “You have to help him!”

This is one of those passages that makes me think Rosie is in on it. You've read more than Blake how has this being an other trap not occurred to you

1.7

Should another practitioner need to bait him again, know that this author used: a pile of festering boar carcasses, six feet high, each carved with his name when well into their state of decay, the decay timed using refrigeration to be roughly parallel; seven jars of burning hair, resupplied keep the flames perpetually alight

Yea who hasn't been here at one point

“To everyone and everything that’s listening,” I said. I heard Rose start speaking behind me, but my words drowned hers out. “To me, and to nobody in particular, I’ve gotta say, I didn’t choose this. I’m doing this for family, to respect them as they were in the past, when my cousins were also my friends, so the others don’t face what Molly did. I’m doing it to respect stuff in the present, because even if I dislike my cousins, I don’t want them to have to face this situation and get killed off. I’m doing this for the family that comes in the future, so my kids and all our descendants don’t have this debt hanging over our heads. Above all, I think I’m doing this for my real family. For the friends I made who gave me support when I needed it most, so I can demonstrate what they taught me. Past, present, future, and… more abstract.”

Guy who can only hate his family this much because of how much he loves them Augh Augh

I could hear Rose behind me, still talking, as if she were very distant. “-than a vestige.”

SUSPICIOUS

“It doesn’t matter,” she said, quiet, “because it’s not blood. I’m not offering anything worth taking, and there aren’t any spirits here to listen and obey, are there?” “There are other options, maybe?” “It doesn’t matter,” she said, again. “I don’t care anymore.”

But then this is the opposite of suspicious because she can't lie but she's saying it didn't work and she wants to give up hhhhhhh Rose you are so slippery to understand

Gathered Pages

I didn't highlight any particular passages but Rose Senior I love youuuuuuuu

[saltygilmores]

Dance Marathon Episode-Part 9-The Bloody Finale. RIP Shane.

Now I know my readers have lost untold hours of sleep pondering the origin of all this Shane is Dead nonsense. Fret no more, my 4-6 regular readers. Fret no more. After her public dumping for the ages, Rory retreats to Money Laundering Bridge, where the soon to be homocidal maniac follows close behind (Shane's current whereabouts are unclear, but he won't let her get too far). A brief, gloomy conversation between Jess and Rory ensues, where it is established that Jess and Rory Like-Like each other and are comitting to not knowing a moment of peace or sexual intercourse for the next 6-8 months. Yippee. So, we are to believe that the thing that needs "taking care of" is presumably, ending his "relationship" with Shane. But a normal, not-murderer person could have said something like "I have to go talk to Shane." Or he would have not said anything to Rory because Shane was not even his girlfriend anyway, so who gives a crap? If we have just established that Rory and Jess have decided to make a go of this thing, it's a given that Shane is history. She's off like a prom dress. So why did he have to say it like that? What, exactly, has to be "taken care of"? You know what kind of people say things like that? People who are in the mob, before they erase someone. (but instead of "sleeping with the fishes", Shane will be sleeping with the swans.) On top of that, why are you using that absolutely bone-chilling tone of voice? And such a creepy Okuh, too. That's an okuh that will make your blood run cold. Also, that creepy way he's staring at Rory, like he's contemplating evil. You can see it in his eyes that the evil gears are turning in his evil brain. How convenient that after he says this Ms. Campbell is never seen or heard from again. RUN SHANE! RUN! Run as fast as your slutty little legs can carry you!

Shane Campbell B. 198? D. 2002 Shane Campbell was born sometime in the mid 80s to Mr. and Mrs. Campbell, who were those really cool kinda parents who let their daughter have boys in her bedroom and said things like "drinking is okay as long as you do it in the house". Until her untimely death, Ms. Campbell was employed by Stars Hollow Beauty Supply. She prided herself on being gainfully employed and sex-positive and being the creator of new words such as "bloaty". She was educated in the Stars Hollow school system, causing some of her detractors to believe that Ms Campbell did not know how ice was made. She had plans to attend cosmetology school and looked forward to a career in the beauty industry where she would have made more money and met way cooler people and had a lot more sex than other people who went to Yale instead. We will miss her spicy customer service, off the shoulder tops, low rise jeans, and love of tonsil hockey. RIP. I will remember you, will you remember me, don't your let your life pass you by...weep not for the memories... Jess departs the lake to locate his victim and comitt certain felonies and busy himself with cleaning up bodily remains. As she posed no real threat to his relationship with Rory, his motive for Taking Care of Shane remains unclear. He is just a blood thirsty maniac. God forbid a boy finds a hobby, right? He has a long night ahead of him. Rory and Lorelai return to the dance a few moments apart, where Rory's absence has disqualifed them and Kirk wins. Rory cries into Lorelai's arms over the loss of Butthead and the gaining of Jess The Mess. As Kirk circles the gym with his trophy, the Rocky theme song plays, which drowns out Shane's screams of terror from behind the school. With the same superpower that he utilized to abscond with 500 baseballs, Jess manages to drag Shane's lifeless body from the school and back to the lake and feeds her to the swans. The end.