#and tech just being tech my beloved.

[nobie]

It’s the last bad batch eve

[itsindiana]

i think we don't talk about what the driving force behind each batcher is enough. like if u think abt it hunter often acts out of fear ( not cowardice , fear that his ppl will get hurt duh ) , while crosshair often acts out pain , tech acts with logic , wrecker with love , and echo ? echo acts out of being true hater

[stars-n-spice]

Sneaking Out

Based off of this post from @here-comes-the-moose !

[spotaus]

Thinking about my ec-4o babies again and I like. I feel like I need to flesh out Reaper some more... like, I'm going one character at a time, but many of them already have basic motivation or plot beats they overcome. Reaper has that... but not enough

Okay, so I got thinking about Dust (technically a Main Character alongside Blue) and then Geno (a side character with a LOT of plot relevance). And I subscribe to DustedAfterDeath for this au, so next my mind went to Reaper. But like. Reaper never naturally got much extra depth from my working on the story...

Reaper's jist is that he was raised in a long, long line of folks who lived alternatively from the rest of society. He was raised to believe that society without tech would be better. That everything from convenient vending machines to life-saving medical technology, everyone would be better off without it. That Technology was choking out the natural and magical worlds it relied on.

And... the mindset wasn't entirely wrong.

Only, they weaponized that into an irrational fear they set upon their communities, and isolated them from the outside world. They doomsday prepped, for decades, abd when the war finally came, they were too well prepared. They largely survived.

Reaper, a fit man who could leave and not be swayed by others, ventured out onto the wasteland. He was armed with rudimentary tech which allowed him to over-load and disable any tech he came in contact with. He was cleaning up any loose ends. Killing bots, and anyone who dared to have modified their own body with Tech in any way.

So, off he went. He worked mercenary jobs for free, killing bots and semis that bothered organic civilizations. He gained a reputation. "Death". He stumbled upon Geno, and unable to kill him, it starts a whole journey of renouncing his beliefs and turning over a new leaf.

Quick Note: Geno's soul absorbed a lot of electrical energy, so while the war ended, he was one of the few power sources left in the world. Reaper couldn't disable the tech *or* kill Geno because of this overwhelming magic that would drag him back together DT style.

I never thought beyond that. The biggest factor here, his renouncing his old life, has very little prompting in the og tale. I'm going to try abd fix that here thru brainstorming lmao.

So, Reaper, as he lives, has a *very* strict moral system, as well as a loyalty system. As he sees it, there are personal grudges, and there are betrayals of his faith. The latter is what gets people killed. He also has a strict rule with trust. Certain people he registers in his mind as 'ally' and when they make that list, the only way they'll be harmed by him is if they go against his core beliefs.

Geno, aside from being unkillable, manages to *redeem* himself in Reaper's eyes. When he frustratedly explains that he was the one who ended the war and temporarily destroyed all the tech. This information is vital to Reaper. He thinks he can get a secret from Geno, a way to make his life's goal cone true. And so he allows Geno to live. In fact, Geno swears to him that when he finishes this last task of his, he'll tell Reaper what he did to make the EMP.

Of course, this is a beneficial meeting of two with completely opposing beliefs. Geno loves ectos, at least he loves some of them, and programming/tech have been his whole life. He lets Reaper join him willingly, because Reaper is obnoxiously good at being a bodyguard and warding off threats which Geno physically can't (chronic pain). Also, the secret he'll tell Reaper won't endanger anyone, because the only way Geno made an EMP that big was because he sabotaged the main power source. Now a lot of electricity was magic-infused and didn't abide by the same rules at back then. It'd be too late for Reaper to do anything.

Meanwhile, Reaper, of course, thinks he's getting a free way to destroy all tech if he follows this half-dead science guy. And, ontop of that, Geno is a useful beacon to discover wandering bots and semis. So of course he follows him. He's civil at Blue's when they finally arrive, because he's biding his time to simply slaughter them all later.

But. Geno and Reaper don't get along. The prejudice they hold for eachother gets in the way of most meaningful conversation, and they end up bickering. Geno once told Reaper he was no better than the bots after he slaughtered a group of Semis, abd after that neither of them could get a glance at the other without a hostile 'what?' Or a slur or jab. By the time they arrive at Blue's, Geno is so sick and tired of Reaper, and Reaper really, really wishes he knew how to kill him.

Then there's Dust. Dust was on Reaper's 'ally' list. Reaper taught him how to properly fight, and how to use manual guns, years ago during the war. Seeing Dust again was a treat. Seeing him harboring ectos and semis and a Techie was less than charming. Dust himself didn't break any of his morals, though, so they remained on shockingly good terms. Reaper was their ticket inside, and he was *only* amicable to Dust, and occasionally Horror when he came by. He often joked about short-circuitinh the bots or would fry one of Blue's or Geno's work stations. It happened so often that Dust had to chew him out for it.

And honestly, he wasn't giving up. Geno nor Dust could change his mind, and even the revelry around the base did nothing to persuade him to loosen up.

Until he met Saejun.

Saejun was an ecto made for farming and tending to plants, years ago before the war. He was never upgraded or installed with the virus, and Rust had found him out half-buried along a dirt road. When he was fixed up, Saejun insisted he could bring some life back to the desert waste they were stuck in.

He did just that. He tended to plants across the property, encouraged magical abd non-magical creatures to habitate the place (mostly bugs + small nature spirits) and he would grow green life again. Hydroponics lined the sides of the warehouse, and during Reaper's stay they just kept growing. It was once when he'd been out looking for Dust that he noticed Saejun tending to the garden and playing with little nature spirits. He'd approached, doubtful, but upon inspection found that the magic in the area really was thriving. So close to walls of machinery, amd running along the body of tech itself.

It was his first proof in his whole life that the two things *could* and *did* co-exist. That it was Tech which was now bringing it back. He wasn't even programmed for anything beyond basic crops, Saejun just had a passion for plants.

*that* is Reaper's turning point. Where he finally starts looking at everyone differently. Asking Blue about why he builds and repairs bots. Why the bots stuck around, their purpose, what they do now. And, eventually, he asks Geno to explain coding to him. Just a bit. <- This last bit is met with hostility from Geno, which perpetuates this social barrier between them. Meanwhile Reaper really did want to reconcile.

It takes Dust, seeing this change and noticing the effort, for him to force the two of them to sit down and talk things out.

And after that, Reaper understands a lot more about hinself, and the world, abd everything he's done. He doesn't really regret it, but he doesn't let himself forget to change his ways.

Also it's still that Reaper talking things out with Geno makes them both really vulnerable by the end. This weakness displayed breaks them past eachother's shells and manages to get them to hang out more often, talk about eachothers interests, be normal guys.

And then Geno and Reaper fall in love (Not a quick turn-around, I prommy), and after time amd discussion, Dust is pulled in (because he and Reaper have history and mutual Crushing, and Geno and Dust have an obnoxious amount in common). The three of them all get along.

But, yeah, finally fleshed out Reaper some more. His past was so isolating that all he needed was the little push to see that not everything was bad and horrible and evil <3

[engagemythrusters]

So the reason I personally think Tech is appearing to be doing “fine” about the changes around him (loss of Crosshair and Echo, Havoc Marauder being stolen) is because he is absolutely not.

This guy is deeply autistic coded, to the point where it’s basically canon (the voice actor has mentioned he perceives Tech to be on the spectrum). And as most of us know, autistic people… we don’t do so well with change. We’re really, really bad with it. We like routines so much!

But wait—you may say—why does Tech act like he’s okay with change? Simple, really: you can’t form routines in a galactic war.

Obviously, there’s routines he could keep. Things like… like the order he ate his lunch, the way he brushed his teeth, how he preparde for battle, etc. That’s portable, for the most part. But he’s not in the same place every day. He’s not doing the same thing every day. He’s not even with the same people every day! Everything changes so constantly!

Not to mention, there’s so much grooming (not THAT type) that the clones go through. They grow up specifically for one thing and one thing only: war. Tech’s case was special, obviously, but that likely guaranteed even more grooming. He was special, like his brothers. I bet they had more hands-on training than most—and likely watched just as closely. So can you imagine what would have happened, had the Kaminoans watched him lose his cool over changes? They couldn’t have let that fly. That’s not going to work on the battlefield. If he can’t adapt, he’s dead.

So. Tech needs to adapt. Tech needs to not break with changes. He needs to cope.

How do you cope with something when you can’t cope? Stuff it deep down. Ignore it. Replace the feelings with something else (ie: working out, drinking, bingeing, etc.) and refuse to acknowledge anything else.

Tech can’t keep up with changes. Tech can’t deal with them. So… he doesn’t deal with them. At all. He doesn’t let himself acknowledge the way he would have used to. He bottles them, he ignores them, whatever you want to call it.

(So no fuckin wonder he kept lashing out at Wrecker. How much can a person keep inside before the dam cracks and something leaks through?!)

[mikansei]

trying to figure out hsr's timeline is just pepesilvia.jpeg

when dates are labeled "AE" does that mean the WHOLE amber era, e.g. 2157 AE is the 2157th amber era, which itself lasted anywhere from 76 to 240 years?

was the swarm disaster in the 1300s AE ~770 whole ass amber eras ago (e.g. 60,000-180,000 years ago) from the present in 2157 AE, because that is an insane length of time?

the xianzhou fleet set sail in search of Yaoshi ~8000 years ago (whose years in what system???), and Yaoshi didn't exist during the swarm disaster, so is there just a huge gap between 60k-180k years ago & 8k years ago?

but the founding of the IPC is listed as occurring btw 1357-1387 AE, involving the same people who were presumably mortal, pre-Yaoshi, and didn't live for thousands of years, so that HAS to be measured as 30 years and not 30 amber eras?

but also the IPC claims one of those people contemporary to the swarm disaster is definitely still alive??? i mean sure they could mean it symbolically or sth, but man

man.

i understand the history fictionologists now. i too am about to start just making shit up

[tending-the-hearth]

if you can, could you write a short about echo talking to the batch about the rest of domino? could be pre-show or post-show, maybe when crosshair's joined back up with the batch

they are very important to me, thank you anon 😌

*insert the obligatory "echo finds hevy's medal on the marauder" fic*

Kashyyyk had been a welcome respite after the recovery of Cody and Crosshair from the Empire.

Gungi had been more than excited to welcome his friends back, greeting Omega with a joyful hug that had the blonde giggling brightly as she returned the embrace. The rest of the Batch watched the interaction warmly, glad to see their youngest member being so happy upon reuniting with the young Jedi.

Rex had joined the Batch after Cody and Crosshair’s rescue, unable to part himself from his brother’s side.

After a day of quiet recovery on the forest planet, Echo set himself to organizing the crates that had been languishing in the Marauder’s storage hold, completely untouched over the past months of racing around the galaxy.

Distantly, he could hear Omega begging Crosshair to help her with her bow. He chuckled to himself, knowing that his little sister had been waiting for the day when she could get tutelage from their marksman brother. Digging through one of the messy crates, Echo flinched as his hand was poked by something cool, and he frowned. Grasping the object, he pulled it out into the light, and immediately froze as he recognized it.

“Oh…”

The gold sunburst glinted in the afternoon light that streamed through the Marauder’s open hatch, the green and blue ribbon faded, but still holding together.

Echo knew 99 still had the medal, but he hadn’t known what happened to it after his older brother’s death. Thinking it back over, it made sense for 99 to have given it to his own batch.

“Echo! Find anything interesting?”

The ARC was startled out of his musings by the sound of Wrecker’s shout, and he stood, holding the medal tightly in his hands as he exited the Havoc Marauder.

Rex looked up from where he was speaking with Cody, immediately noting a difference in Echo’s mannerisms.

“Vod’ika?”

Echo simply held up the medal, a small, sad smile on his face. “I haven’t seen one of these in a long time.”

Hunter’s face was bittersweet. “It was 99’s.” He approached Echo, reaching out to brush his fingers across the medal. “He gave it to us when we went off on our first mission.”

“That looks like your medal, Ey’ika.” Rex prodded gently, making Echo huff out a laugh. Of course his older brother knew something else was going on. “From when you passed the test.”

“You’ve got a medal?” Omega asked excitedly, moving around Hunter to get a peek at the object.

Echo nodded, walking to where Crosshair and Tech were seated, quietly enjoying each other’s company. He sat himself beside his grey-haired brother, taking comfort from how Crosshair didn’t tense up like he did when Hunter or Wrecker sat beside him. Rex sat on Echo’s other side, a quiet pillar of comfort.

“99 and I got our medals at the same time.” Echo began to explain, voice quiet. “His was given to him by a clone named Hevy.”

Tech cocked his head. “99 did mention it was a gift from a friend.”

“You knew the guy who gave this to 99?” Wrecker asked.

It was only Rex’s presence and Cody’s silent support from where he was sitting opposite them that kept Echo from falling apart then and there, the pain of thinking about his Domino squad often too much to bear.

“Hevy was my brother.” He said after letting out a breath. “He was the oldest of our batch, and a kriffing asshole half the time, and an overprotective mother tooka the other half of the time. He was selfless, and stupid, and everything 99 wanted him to be.” Rex shifted, wrapping an arm around Echo’s shoulders as he spoke. “Then there was Cutup. He was almost as bad as Hevy when it came to smothering us after training. He was always worried we weren’t eating enough, and when he wasn’t smothering us, he was trying to prank anyone who looked at our squad wrong.”

“Sounds like we’d get along with them.” Hunter said with a small grin.

Cody’s eyes suddenly widened with horror. “Can you imagine.”

Echo let out a loud laugh. “Oh, Hev and Cut would have loved you guys.” His face grew a touch sadder, and he leaned more into Rex, who tightened the arm he had around his shoulders. “Then there was Fives and I. Fives was older by literal seconds, but he still held it over me every chance he got.” He couldn’t bring himself to talk more about his twin, and instead pushed on, fighting to keep himself from crying. “Finally… there was Droidbait. He was the baby of the squad, and never did anything wrong in his life.”

“Didn’t you and Fives tell the story of how Droidbait started a food fight during your last day on Kamino?” Rex asked, suspicion in his voice.

Echo raised an eyebrow at his former captain. “Again, ‘Bait never did anything wrong in his life. Ever.”

Beside him, as he had been speaking, Crosshair’s posture had grown more and more relaxed until he was leaning into Echo, arms pressed together as he listened.

“I remember that.” The marksman said, voice quiet and hesitant. Echo immediately glanced at Hunter, who was obviously holding back a small grin at the sound of their brother’s voice.

“I believe Wrecker was enthusiastically involved in widening the range of that chaos.” Tech supplied helpfully.

Echo snorted. “I wouldn’t be surprised. ‘Bait was especially excited at how extreme it went so quickly.” The rest of the clones laughed, and Wrecker’s face was gleeful as he remembered that specific day, tucked at a corner table with his own batch, watching as a group of newly graduated clones cackled and teased one another.

Echo was surprised to find how easily the stories of his brothers fell from his mouth. Instead of the pang of heartbreak over his lost, there was nothing but warmth that filled him, as though Domino was sitting around him, laughing along with the stories.

Omega scooted closer, eyes bright as she asked for more stories, and Echo was only happy to oblige, grinning as Crosshair’s snarky comments interrupted him ever now and again.

It wasn’t the same, but Echo was content in knowing that he could pass on his brothers’ stories and memories.

[honey-tragedy]

this is nova, nova is my proto type spidersona based on the salmon pink bird eating spider. nova is what happens if you tell a broke 18 year old you'll give them 5000 bucks and a full ride scholarship if they agree to be part of your sketchy bio engineering drug trial. 

per usual, click for better resolution cause tumblr just eats image quality. 

long post below

their universe, number 244598, is a semi technologically advanced world, but its advancements are mostly in military applications. time line wise their running in the year 2040.

based on the what if situation of oscorp realizing that their radioactive spider could be used to make the newest batch of super soldiers , and the military funding the project. currently their are only two surviving from the original pool of applicants, both of which got spider powers, nova as the feet on the ground half and a yet to be named other half as the guy in the chair. 

both of them weren't to keen on being the newest attack dogs for the military, but oscorp doesn't exactly agree with that. oscorp don't know whos under the spider mask but they do know Spiderman has got to be using their experimental supersoldier serum and if they can capture them the compony would have a working version of the serum.  consequently both “spiderman” and “ that other smaller spiderman” have warrants out for their arrest.

nova, during a attempt to transfer them to larger tank, “dealt with” the researchers in the lad at the time, in a sort of spider-sense fueled blind rage. destroying the lab and wiping as much evidenced of the project as they could.  they destroyed the tanks and the rest of the deceased trial candidates, threw the only other survivor over their shoulder and bolted.

after setting the place on fire of course. they've got a Deadpool style “I'm too changed and monstrous to go back to the people i love but ill keep them safe in the meantime” thing going on.

they went into the trial 5′2 and with the normal two arms and two eyes.

 their now about 7′1 and around 700 pounds, even if they don't look it, two extra arms, six extra mini eyes and a whole lot of muscle and joint issues on their left side.  due to them growing far larger then expected their containment tank was too small, as such their left side was pressed into the glass and its growth stunted.

their suit compensates for most of it with braces and extra support on that side. outside of costume they use a Cain. 

im playing with the idea of their like, unique power being some sort of weight/ density shifting, their basically like a brick wall with other various spider powers. but because their so heavy they got to  be super carful with where they swing and land. many billboards have been dented and bent due to them. 

they were in new York for collage when they joined the spider experiment. now seeing as they essentially faked their death, collage’s not exactly in the cards.  they work day shift at a strip club bar and nights as the one and only goliath.

im basically planning on throwing them into their universes team red cause i think dp and dd would do very well with a big big friend.

[skyloftian-nutcase]

OMA I DON’T DESERVE YOU THIS IS ABSOLUTELY AMAZING

I’M DEAD. COMPLETELY DEAD. OVERWHELMED AND HAPPY AND EVEN GOT A LITTLE TEARY EYED AND ABSOLUTELY BLOWN AWAY BY YOUR TALENT THIS IS INCREDIBLE

(I’m also dead from work so I’m kind of incoherent BUT WATCH ME SCREAM IN THE TAGS ANYWAY)

THANK YOU I LOVE YOU 😭😭😭❤️❤️❤️

" Impa felt her heart break once more, but it also spurred her to speak again, and she moved her hand from his back to his cheek, making him look at her. “I love you dearly, Link. And I… I will take care of you. All I ask is that you… you live. Please, love. If for nothing or no one else, for me. Just… just live.” "

Link to the fic!

Happy late birthday to my dearest friend @skyloftian-nutcase !! 🎉🎉🎉 I hope I did your request justice, love❤️ you are so so important to me🫂

[bmpmp3]

when it comes to deep learning style vocal synths vs concatenative synthesis style vocal synths i like and use both, theres pros and cons for each, i adore deep learning synths for their versatility in vocal modes/expressions/appends/whatever and their breaths and of course im a fan of how many have multi-lingual functionality, but one thing they just cant beat concatenative on is the late 2000s-ass NND-ass doujin-ass impossibly fast rapid fire syllable'd japanese pop singing a la disappearance of hatsune miku. to be honest miku barely handles it. thats what the song is about. to me no one does it better than a basic but well oto'd CV utau LOL

[deadsetobsessions]

Danny always knew tax evasion ran in his veins. His parents hadn’t been the most… morally sound of people, and less so as ecto-scientists.

He just didn’t think their lessons would ever result in a criminal empire that spanned the entire city and then some. Danny hadn’t seen it coming. His parents definitely wouldn’t have.

“Good afternoon, Mr. Wayne. Mr. Fox.”

Danny ‘the Phantom’ Fenton sat down across from a rather tense looking (to Danny’s enhanced senses, anyways) Brucie Wayne and his right hand, Lucius Fox. He smiled pleasantly, matching Brucie’s vacant smile with that touch of Midwest suburban mother smile.

With his acquisition of multiple Gotham companies, his rather newly established Fentom Co. became one of the largest holding companies in Gotham, the first being Wayne Enterprises and the second being Drake Industries. After months of constantly working his butt off while fending off assassins, reforming Gotham’s slums and cleaning up some of the streets, and taking care of his nest of street kids, Danny garnered enough power to even stand close to Wayne Enterprises in terms of financial powers.

The topic of this meeting was, of course, the proposed merger of Wayne Enterprises’ Medical R&D division with Fentom Co.’s pharmaceutical department. Usually, Wayne Enterprises wouldn’t even consider such an offer, as their Medical R&D division was the most well funded and least likely to be part of a Rogue’s scheme- and therefore most beloved- department of the same nature in Gotham. However, Danny had something the other offers didn’t.

Blackmail.

His overly polite smile widened as Bruce’s mask twitched. His eyes slid over to Lucius Fox.

“It’s an honor to meet you, sir. I’ve heard much about your genius in… research and development.”

By that, Danny meant that he knew Lucius Fox helped develop Batman’s tech.

He did a lot of stalking that week. It felt rather… invasive, even if he did get a bunch of juicy secrets.

You know what they say: dead men tell no tales… but halfas are generally blabbermouths.

“Is that so? It is a pleasure to meet you as well, Mr. Fenton.” The man quickly glanced between the youngsters, accurately predicting that this might have something to do with Bruce’s active nightlife.

“Yes, it is such a pleasure to meet you.”

Wow, Danny didn’t think he’d ever heard anyone sound both so perky and dead inside at the same time, except for Susan at Gotham High’s bake sale.

Bruce wishes he could be a Susan. He’s at best a Becky.

“Will you be staying, Mr. Fox? You’re the head of the R&D department, correct?”

“Ah, yes-”

“Oh, Lucius! I think you had an appointment with the finance department right now! I heard Sally talk about it, you know!”

Lucius Fox sent an unreadable look at Bruce before rallying.

“Oh, it must have slipped my mind. My apologies, Mr. Fenton, it seems as though I can not skip this appointment.”

“That’s alright. I suppose it gives you… plausible deniability… should things go wrong, haha!” Danny allowed his smile to widen a little further than natural. Bruce tensed but Lucius Fox simply politely smiled and left the room.

Ignorance is bliss and all that, Danny amusedly thought.

As the door shut with a click, Bruce dropped the vacant Brucie smile and sighed.

“What do you want,” he gritted out. Danny wasn’t about to let that slide, not after he spent the better part of this month wrangling Bruce’s problem children.

“Ah, it must be because I’m from the Midwest, Brucie, but where I come from, we value these things called manners.”

You uneducated jerk, he doesn’t say.

Danny leaned back in his chair, loosening his smile into something relaxed and sharp.

“…” Oh, boy, Danny could just hear the other man’s blood pressure rising. “What is the purpose of your visit, Mr. Fenton?”

“Relax, Brucie,” Danny sing-songed in a non-relaxing way. “I’m just here to discuss a possible merger that I’m sure you’ll agree to, and give you a couple of updates on your… wayward bird.”

He heard Bruce take a slow, controlled breath. “Very well. Where. Would. You. Like. To. Start.”

Danny ignored the gritted out sentence. He passed a contract to Bruce, who took it like he was handling a live bomb.

“Here’s the proposal, Mr. Wayne. Please, look it over.”

He watched as Bruce looked over the contract with an eagle eye before lowering it, scrutinizing Danny.

“This is… very fair.”

Danny raised an eyebrow. Of course it was fair. Danny wasn’t interested in exploiting the Waynes, despite them being very able to afford it.

He’d brought fifty manufacturing sites for pharmaceuticals, and offered up a building where both companies could send their workers. He provided top notch security- that definitely didn’t have any talons on staff, what were they talking about?- that came from his own security division. Granted, most of them were reformed and trained goons, but hey, creating jobs can only help Gotham’s economy and help break the cycle of poverty, right? Guaranteed by the Wayne name and, most importantly, uncompromised medicine that was accessible to everyone would be a damn good start. He’d also have Penguin’s empire to distribute it to those who couldn’t make it to a clinic or a store, and there were plans in there to work with and establish contracts with Gotham’s welfare department. Well… once Danny finished replacing them with people who wouldn’t try to take a cut of the funds and actually cared about the people. He was thinking… the multitudes of poor grad students and parents that need income. He’s in the process of building childcare centers and…

It’s a good thing he managed to save money from the taxes (thank you, Gotham’s morally ambiguous tax experts that were in desperate need for clients! He could do it himself but having a team of accountants at the ready was seriously so helpful.) because ancients knows the government weren’t about to step into Gotham and help the people here. He needs so much money to pull all of this shit off and a lot of it has to be clean.

Danny inwardly sighed and marked another thing onto his to do list.

Make money laundering fronts.



“Of course, Mr. Wayne. You didn’t think I’d come in here demanding money, did you?”

“I considered it.”

“I am, in fact, trying to help Gotham. You might not agree with my methods, but I’d rather not damage Wayne Enterprises when it’s doing so much to help the people.”

Ugh, he was doing too much work. Danny just wanted to- hah- chill at home and read bed time stories to his kids.

Bruce Wayne, the specific blend between Brucie and Batman, regarded him silently. Danny felt like he went up a few notches in the respect ladder.

Nice.

“You’re a criminal.”

“Says the man in the bat-suit breaking into places and assaulting people.”

Bruce’s hands spasmed around the contract. Danny smiled at him, taking a sip of the coffee they’d prepared. Oo, nice!

“Ah, I heard you’re adopting- pardon, fostering- Tim Drake. Getting empty nest syndrome, Brucie?” He slipped back into using Bruce’s first name. The proposal was formal. This… was very much not.

“What about it?”

“That’s very kind of you. Speaking of which, well, of your birds, I was wondering if you remembered what I asked you to do.” Danny continued, not giving Bruce a chance to reply. “Didn’t I ask for you to keep your birds in line, Brucie?”

The CEO straightened even further, form filling out to be Batman’s imposing figure. “I did.”

“No, you didn’t. Do you know where your charge is, right now? No, not the formerly dead one,” Danny tilted his head, smile shrinking.

“Don’t you dare do anything to Tim. I swear, if you even lay a hand on a strand of his hair, I’ll-”

“Sit your Armani clad ass down, Bruce.” Danny snapped. “Your son’s in your office. I don’t harm children, and your assumptions are deeply insulting. Threaten me again, Bruce, and I’ll make sure you know exactly how much I know about your birds, your cousin, and the commissioner’s daughter.”

Bruce snarled but leashed his anger just enough to sit back down. He itched to go check on Tim, but leaving a threat like Phantom unwatched felt inherently wrong.

“Your other son,” Danny continued. “Is doing quite well. He’s learning that he has hobbies again. He’s actually working under me, you know.”

“He’s what.”

Oh, yeah, that tracks. It figured that Jason wouldn’t tell Bruce about anything. He’s still conflicted about his death. Danny got it.

“Ah, that’s precious information. You’ll have to offer something of equal value if you want to know. There is, on the other hand, a piece of information I’ll give you for free.”

Danny paused for the dramatic effect. It was lost on Bruce, the ultimate drama queen of this world.

“The League of Assassins are hanging around Hotham lately. It’s getting tedious, getting rid of them. I suggest talking to your old flame, you know, with words and what little communication skill you’ve got rattling around in your noggin to get them to pull back. Her interest is… unnaturally focused on Jason.”

Danny read the dark agreement swimming about Bruce’s face and inclined his head. “Should negotiations fail, rest assured that Jason will be protected.”

“…Thank you.”

“You are most welcome. Go ahead and discuss the contract with Mr. Fox, I am sure you’ll find little problems with it. Ah,” Danny stood up, fixing his suit jacket. “And you should probably check up on Timothy. He’s probably having a great time in your office, Mr. Wayne.”

“I’ll see you out.”

“Of course.”

Having Batman escorting him out should probably be more intimidating.

Danny stood in the elevator, waiting for Bruce’s contemplative silence to put itself into words.

Sure enough, “What… what kind of hobbies does Jason have now?”

“I’d tell you to ask him, but you two aren’t on speaking terms, are you? He likes books, of course, but recently, he’s found an interest in glass blowing. He made quite a bit of progress on his attempts at sun catchers.”

“I see.”

Well, Danny’s not about to step on that landmine any more than he has to.

——

“Danny.”

“Oh, hey, Jason. Sit down, we were about to have dinner.”

Jason clambered into the window. Danny sighed. He had a door, but by the way Jason never used it, it was like the door didn’t exist.

“Mind telling me why the old bastard showed up on my rooftops with a bunch of glass and glassblowing tools?”

Danny smiled. “No idea.”

“Uh huh.”

Danny placed a hand on his chest and put on his best woe-is-me expression. The teen’s face twitched in annoyance. “Doubt? At me? Why, I never!”

A bread roll thwacked him in the face.

[ur4niumgl4ss]

Czech Miku at her worst, she is beauty, she is grace, she has spent 3 days on majáles consuming nothing but lukewarm pilsner and langoš and now she has fallen straight on her face.

Breakdown of her design below the cut!

Her hair is badly dyed with schwarzkopf live electric blue dye because thats usualy the only blue you can get here in regular stores without ordering online or looking into specialized stores and usualy winds up being the first unusual dye color people try.

Her shirt being RUR is a refrence to a play by Karel Čapek which coined the term "robot", felt fitting for her as a vocaloid.

Cargo shorts, plaid shirt, fanny pack and socks with sandals are just a must like thats tradition at this point.

Her bag is the rainbow pride bag from flying tiger. Many queer people here just own this bag because its easy to get and looks fun.

Can of caffeine pomelo birel - caffeinated non alcoholic pomelo flavored beer, i'd draw her with a regular pilsner because yeah but i felt like this better showed the deranged shit czech people do with beer for the fun of it

Smažák - deep fried block of cheese with fried and tartar sauce my beloved. Ofc it has to be on a greasy paper plate.

I also put a Pilsen tram card on her belt loop :)

Her hair is meant to be shaped to resemble a lion mane and 2 lion tails as a refrence to the czech lion ☆

Her tattoos are:

(Right arm) Alzák - an alien mascot for a tech seller company alza, known to have am extremely annoying nasaly voice which quickly made him a huge meme. People usualy wanna murder him.

(Left arm) Robot Zajac - a side character from a russian cartoon called Nu pogodi zajac that many people in czechia (including me) grew up with. He's fucked up and i love him.

(Left leg) Linden tree leaf - linden is the national tree

(Right leg) Vodník by Jozef Lada - a czech folk creature guy

Vole cože - "bitch what"

I♡ pórek - "I♡ leek"

Nikam vole - "nowhere fucker"

I love this trend and thought it'd be fun to do my own spin on it :D I live in Pilsen now so i considered drawing her in a Pilsen kroj but i figured i'd have more fun designing her to look like me and my friends :3

[a-sadclone]

What if the name of the episode and the fact that Omega leaves Tech’s goggles on Pabu it’s a subtle way to tell us that he is not going to return I AM ABOUT TO LOSE MY SANITY.

STAR WARS: THE BAD BATCH 3.11 "Point of No Return"

[shaevilux]

People knock on Rhoam for being a bad dad cuz he's distant and stern to little Zelda and say how Rauru is the goat (heh) for taking her in like his own daughter. Like Zelda had her real parental connection with Sonia and Rauru. But frankly that's a little reductive.

Rauru literally descended from the heavens, married a priest, started a kingdom. Man didn't really know much strife yet. There's no looming threat of calamity or prophecy yet. Things are peaceful. Things are fine. Things are great. Zelda dropped in during this time, talking about a doom that's going to happen tens of thousands of years in the future.

This sad, lost princess.

Of course any reasonable person would take her in and calm her and tell her she is fine and listen and support her.

Rhoam not being able to be this kind of figure for Zelda is tragic. Just read this poor man's journal entries:

"It has been a year and three months since her mother passed. Perhaps she is held back by heartache too deep to heal. If the Ganon prophecy wasn't looming over our heads, I would tell her to take her time... To wait until she is ready. But our situation is dire and leaves no room for weakness—even on behalf of my beloved daughter. My heart breaks for Zelda, but I must act as a king, not a father. I must order her to train relentlessly at the fountain." Pg 4.

"In truth, I understand Zelda's feelings. Painfully so. She lost her mother, her teacher, before she could learn from her. Ten pointless years of self-training, without so much as a book or note to help her find her way... Those in the castle talk behind her back. And I, her only family, scold her for her shortcomings. No wonder she wishes to hide away in her beloved relic research. I'd love nothing more than to console her... But I must stay strong. She MUST fulfill her duty, just as we all must. Even if she comes to despise me." Pg 6.

"I have been told my Zelda went to the Spring of Wisdom... This will likely be her last chance. If she is unable to awaken her power at Lanayru, all hope is truly lost. If she comes back without success, then I shall speak kindly with her. Scolding is pointless now. I forced 10 years of training on her... and after all that, it seems her power will stubbornly awaken some other way. Perhaps I should encourage her to keep researching her beloved relics. They may just lead her to answers I can't provide. For now, I sit anxiously, more a father than a king in this moment. I sit and await my daughter's return." Pg 7. (He fucking dies and never gives Zelda this bit of closure uuuugggghhhhhhh Zelda I'm so sorry Rhoam I'm so sorry)

It sucks because most people remember the cutscenes (duh it's more immersive and important) and in the cutscenes of the first game Rhoam was mostly shown as being stern and mean to babygirl Zelda, who is closed fists explaining herself to him at the verge of tears. And in contrast everyone in the first royal family of hyrule in the second game treated her with such kindness and we can see how happy she was being there with them.

Rhoam was shackled by duty. By prophecy. By the looming calamity. And from the day he named his daughter 'Zelda' he shackled her as well.

And what does Zelda do with these shackles? She accepts them. She tolerates them. Because she loves her father and her kingdom and knows there's a power dormant in her that can stop the calamity that she must do her best to unlock. She does this dutifully. She does all the training, she does everything that is required.

But it still doesn't unlock. So she tries other ways. She isn't just going after the 'relics' because she's scholarly and nerdy and wants to learn about them. She does it because she's pragmatic. She knows her sacred sealing power isn't present in her. She knows she might not be able to control it or even unlock it in time.

So she tries this alternative approach. The Divine Beasts, the guardians. Ancient tech that was used to prevent the calamity of their time. And she awakened the tech. And her father chose the champions for each divine beast. And they were all prepared. And it's all thanks to Zelda.

And then... Fucking tragedy again. Ganon probably learned his lesson from the last time he was thwarted and immediately went for the tech, corrupting it and turning it against the new users. Against Zelda.

It's never really stated how fast it all turned to shit when the tech betrayed them (or maybe I don't remember) but every account points to it being almost overnight. The champions died. Rhoam died. And suddenly, suddenly Zelda unlocks her sealing magic.

I always always hate the literary trope of using tragedy to unlock a great power that could've actually stopped the tragedy from happening in the first place.

And it's no different in BOTW. I hate that Zelda had to go through all this to unlock her powers.

And then what happens next?

She's stuck in limbo (in an almost mocking parallel to Rauru in the next game with his imprisoning arm) holding Ganon back. For a hundred years.

This young woman had gone through so much only to be trapped with a calamity seeking to destroy Hyrule for a century.

Does she know her father died in the war? Does she know the champions died in battle? Would she know Link would survive in the Shrine of Resurrection? Would she know how long it would all take? The century she would have to wait?

I think she didn't. I think it all happened too fast. I think ultimately, she decided a stalemate with ganon was an agreeable outcome. I think in her mind she probably thought she failed Hyrule. When the divine beasts turned she must have been distraught. Distraught might not even cover it tbh. But at least... At least when the kingdom was brought to it's knees by the corrupted tech and was waiting for the final blow, she had the ability to ensure the final blow never came.

And oh boy I have a looot more to talk about regarding Tears of the Kingdom. But I do want to have a couple of more playthroughs of it to really formulate what I want to say.

[randomshyperson]

Five Times Carol Danvers Kisses You

Summary: The five times Carol Danvers kisses you until you two finally get together. 

Warnings: Mentions but nothing explicit, a lot of fluff, mutual pining (and typical angst of trope), best friends to lovers, pre-canon-compliant (takes place before Carol is taken), kissing, happy(ish) ending. | Words: 4.836k

A/N-> As mentioned on this blog before, I absolutely love the dynamics of "Five Times Something" and after watching The Marvels I became obsessed with Carol Danvers, and here I am with something about my beloved blondie. It's short and sweet, and I didn't want to write anything too angsty but you can get hints of what's to come from the canon (Dr.Lawson being a Kree in disguise and what will happen to Carol). But the fic doesn't address this directly and ends up with a happy scene. Let's all live in denial.

General Masterlist | AO3 | Wattpad

-&-

One.

“This is not a place to raise a child” was the justification your father used when he left. Funny enough, he didn't take the child, you, away from all the high-tech military weapons that he described as inadequate for a child to grow up around. 

His lost, it what your mother said, an easy smile on her lips while she offered you a gentle squeeze on the shoulder. She still had some grease on her jacket and a lot of dust on her hair but she looked beautiful. That was just how things were for Wendy Lawson.

And because she was the best mom anyone could ask for, or at least that was what you would perceive it with your limited references of healthy families. She was the best because she would let you sit around while she worked for the Shield, casually teaching you advanced engineering like it was the same homework you had from secondary school.

That was the only life you knew: Afternoons of trying to stay out of the way of Shield Agents and their big weapons until you were old enough to have a gun yourself.

But before that time came, some of them worried you weren't having a decent childhood. Away from guns at least.

You don't know which of the Agents suggested to Doctor Lawson the kart track, but you wish you could thank them. Your mother, as the busy cientist she always has been, was not available to be around all of the evenings you wished to spend there but she trusted your independence to use the bus after school. Besides, you had the impression that there were always Shield Agents keeping an eye on you no matter where you went.

Só for three whole years, that old place was your favorite. You would run out from the classroom with the first ring of the bell to get to the kart track as fast as you could, and for all those three years, you were also the best runner there.

Of course, it cost you some bloody noose and bruised hands. Especially with sore losers little boys who were very unpleased to be second placed by some random girl. There were also the parents, who would whisper not very lowly on how absurd it was to let an unsupervised little girl in such a violent activity.

As luck would have it, someday you were no longer the only little girl around.

The Danvers were local, and you always thought there were only three of them. The grumpy father and the loud and popular sons. But one day, the one with the warmest smile, the youngest son brought someone with him.

His little sister's name was Carol. She had her blonde hair tied down and she looked ready to punch anyone who gave her a hard time. All the Danvers kind looked the same to be fair. Blonde, strong and angry.

Unlike her brother and their free pass to do as they please, Carol was constantly reprimanded by her father. Even there, in front of the whole crowd and runners, he would scream and pinch her ear, adding to the fury that shone behind Carol's little blue eyes.

The other children would whisper just like their parents but growing up with spies and secret agents gave you this second nature to sneak in and out of places without being noticed. You weren't supposed to hear some of the adults whispering how Mr.Danvers drank more than he should or how his older son was leaving next summer for the army with a purple eye he didn't get in the training. You weren't supposed to but you did.

So the next time Carol crashed a car with one of the other runners, you messed up your perfect record to help her.

Her dad screamed again, as usual. But he left, muttering she could find her way home since she was so clever and Carol had those thick tears in her eyes that made them bluer, so you were helping her before you could give a second thought to it.

She didn't mind that you took her hand and brought her to the administration lobby. She's more interested in knowing how the hell you knew how to get there in the first place.

When you told her you grew up with spies she laughed thinking you were joking. You decided to tell her more stories in the hope it would distract her from the pain of the cuts she got in her legs from the crash.

It worked.

Carol had colorful patches on both her knees when you two sneaked out of there to the bus stop. You could take her home if she wished because you knew a lot about public transport but Carol smiled and said she could do it alone; Her dad was often not around and with soldiers brothers, she knew a lot about doing things by herself.

Yet, she appreciates the gesture and the thought. Her bus should be here in 25 minutes so you sit next to her and let your healthy knee brush her bruised one.

“My name is Carol Danvers by the way.” 

You have to chuckle at her line.

“I know who you are, Danvers.” You retort with an easy smile. She looks up with curiosity. You chuckle again. “You know your name is on the scoreboard, right?”

She laughs, almost shyly. You don't know that yet but Carol is not the best at making friends. Especially girlfriends because apparently, every girl hated how not 60s girly behavior she acted on as much as any boy.

You didn't mind. If anything, it kinda made you like her more.

“You didn't have to do that back there you know?” She starts over, fingers tugging at the bandaid you put above her knee. “Lose the race to check on me.”

You shrug, eyes on the road. “No worries. There'll be other races. Besides, you're the only real competition I get there. If you're not participating, what's the fun in winning?”

Carol's cheeks grow a little hotter, but you're both too young to know it has nothing to do with the sun above your heads. You offer her a smile and she gets up to signal to the bus.

But before she leaves, she turns to you again.

It's quicker than her crash that morning, the thank you little peck on your right cheek but is as meaningful as losing a three-year Invictus status on a track race for someone.

Carol nearly flees the scene once she catches the first glimpse of surprise in your expression. You were caught off guard, that's all. But all you can do is laugh to yourself as you watch her run to her bus.

Tomorrow, when you are back here, you'll find Carol so you can share your lunch with her. Today, you would walk home with no clue why the spot she kissed was tingling.

-&-

Two.

Shield Academy is not the army. 

It is, as the name suggests, an academic program for the gifted-minded. It's a place where a child who grew up surrounded by the brightest minds on the planet can get it easily.

Well, of course, there's a lot of studying and tiring exams that you wouldn't describe as easy but when taking everything into consideration, the only place a brainy - or huge nerd as Carol would call it - could end up was there.

So while you had big dark blue sweaters with the Shield logo on them, Carol had worn out public school uniforms. 

But she was doing okay. In fact, if anyone asked you, even though you were the nerd one in that friendship, for you, Carol was quite brilliant. She had a quick mind and such a strong, well, everything. She was as clever as she was kind. She was passionate about anything she cared for and she was easily your favorite person.

The kart track gave space for the public library and the green plains behind Shield Academia as you two grew up. Carol would take her bike from across town and spend the whole day after school in those green yards with you. Often, she had a football with her while you had a book.

And while you tried to escape your Shield colleagues, Carol would find her spot at your side. She would watch those training agents and wish to be like them, while both of you knew she would follow her brothers to the military when the time came.

But for now, you're sixteen. And Carol has been your best friend for almost 6 years now. You're not sure if friends have anniversaries or if it's something reserved for dating, and since you're not gonna ask any of the agents around, especially not Doctor Lawson, you just assume is okay to get Carol a gift.

She had been wishing for a walkman for so long - she had three already, all broke down during some of her naughty antics, from jumping into the reservation without remembering to take them off her backpack to get into a fight with older kids who thrown her stuff just for the fun of it. So yes, she had those before and she loved music but somehow she always ended up breaking them so you thought maybe because you were the one gifting it, she would be more careful.

You were right of course, but that's hardly the point.

Carol started to act strange after the gift. Even days later, during movie night at her house, she got quiet, which is definitely not a Carol Danvers kind of attitude, so you started to wonder if the present was a good idea at all.

That of course, until Carol clarified the whole thing.

“I got you something too. For, hum, the anniversary thing.” 

You pinched her ribs, the nearly shy behavior was such an odd thing to testify that was actually terrifying you. Carol has been your best friend for way too long for that or anything to be awkward between you two.

But then again, adolescence makes everything weird.

You don't open the gift very graciously. Because you were in the middle of movie night, of course, hands full of popcorn butter and Carol was being weird and suspect that you just wanted to put an end to it.

You chuckle at her worn-out team jacket there.

“So your gift to me is your jacket?” You asked with a confused frown, watching your friend struggle with her words the next moments.

“No, I mean yes. But not, just that.” She starts and it's quite the scene. Carol Danvers not being able to talk when that's all she does. “It's my favorite jacket. I… really like it.”

“Do you want it back then?” You suggest with a confused laugh but Carol shakes her head immediately, her cheeks rosy.

“God, no, that’s not…” she takes a deep breath. “I like the jacket, a lot, but not as much as I like you. So I thought, maybe if I can give you something that I really like, it will mean…”

“Oh, I get it.” You say with a smile, holding the jacket against your chest as Carol switches the weight in her foot. “Thank you, blondie. But you don't have to give me your favorite stuff to show me you like me. You don't have to give me anything at all really. Perhaps, all you have to do is say it and I'll believe you.”

Carol nods, shallowing dryly, and without missing a beat, she repeats her words from before: “I really like you.” It's nearly a whisper, and the way she struggles to hold your gaze tells you everything you need to know.

You smile, aware of the warmth spreading in your cheeks and ears.

“I really like you too, Carol.” You tell her and with no hush, you put her jacket on. The blonde in front of you takes a shaky breath once the jacket is properly around your body. You're distracted with the new outfit to take notice of the new dark shine her eyes hold. “Gotta admit it, Danvers, I could totally worm the athletic style. I mean, I look super cool don't I?”

But your question goes unanswered. Carol moves forward, her hands grab the collar of the gifted jacket and just like the first time, she kisses you quicker than you can manage to process.

Her lips are dry against yours because she's nervous. Trembling and terrified. You pull away, and Carol has her eyes closed tightly, breathing unevenly.

You take a deep breath and lick your lips to moisten them a little and the second kiss is much better. 

There's this soft noise she makes when you move your mouth but the second you feel her tongue on your lower lip, there's noise around you two.

As if getting electrocuted, Carol jumps away just in time for her evidently drunk father to stumble inside the garage.

Carol is not eight anymore, but she's the only one left in that house. Her older brother taught her five different ways to break someone's noose, but Carol still shakes like the leaves if her father is around with his harsh words and angry looks.

This time, however, he takes a long glance at you both. The guilty looks, accelerated breathing, and he just laughs.

The only thing he says is a slur that makes Carol flinch. Then he turns his back and climbs the stairs to his bedroom, passing out in the hallway before he can make it through.

“Carol, I-” You try but she forces a smile and nods at the door.

“Please go.” She asks. “I have to take him to bed and you don't have to stay.”

“But-”

“Please.”

You leave. And Carol doesn't bring up that night for the next two years.

-&-

Three.

Graduation means Army. More specifically, the Air Force because of course Carol Danvers wants to fly away from everything and everyone.

“Not everyone.” She frowns when you tell her that. Then she smiles, legs brushing yours at the back of her truck. “I would love to have you up there with me.”

You chuckle, giving her shoulder a little bump with your own.

“Sorry Blondie, you know I hate planes.” You joke but the shine in her eyes is deeper now.

“What about spaceships?” She insists it.

You sigh into the night, pensive for a second.

“Well, Mom would probably love it if I ever suggest anything that involves flying.” You say, breaking into a chuckle as your hand moves to the leg you have bent in that position, which allows you to trace your fingers toward your ankle. “Of course, anything other than my secret little Pegasus.”

Carol gives a compliance smile at the mention of the secret tattoo you got on her seventeenth birthday but continues to watch you in silence.

The stars are shining bright above you two, and the parked truck gives as much privacy as one could get in that neighborhood. If you and Carol weren't girls, people would make conclusions.

Perhaps they’ll do it anyway.

“What would I even do up there, Danvers?” You ask her because Carol is so passionate about flying that you're starting to wonder if she is able to see a whole different world up there that you can't.

This time, her hand finds you before her lips. She brings her fingers to yours resting on the truck and locks them. She gets closer and closer and gives you all the time in the world to push her back.

But she's Carol, and she's beautiful and she's your best friend. Why wouldn't you want to kiss her?

There's tongue this time. Hesitant at first then curious, until finally hungry. Of course, Carol Danvers is a good kisser, this asshole.

You break apart, to complain with a husky tone that is unfair but Carol only chuckles before kissing you again. And again. Until somehow you end with your back against her truck, painting into her mouth.

And Carol is seventeen years old and she's a huge virgin like you who really wants this to change tonight. Not just that, of course, but she's still a teen and that's exactly what she chooses to say in order to make this less life-changing than it is.

Because sleeping together as a way of ending high school without the V Card has a completely different meaning than sleeping together because you really want to ruin a friendship.

You swallow at her suggestion, aware that the heat in your veins doesn't cover for the way your heart just broke inside your chest.

But you smile and tell Carol you love her, making sure it sounds platonic. Just to hurt her just as much.

It works, but she kisses you anyway.

-&-

Four.

Maria Rambeau is the most incredible person you have ever met. She's clever and fun and kindhearted. It's so easy to love her and it comes so naturally, that you can't really blame Carol.

You also have no right to be jealous, you tell yourself.

After all, Carol asked more than once for you to at least consider following her to the Air Force. You both had military families, so it made sense for her that you both ended up following the same path.

You were not entirely excluded from that, of course. But unlike Carol with her soldier training, you had medical classes. And while she and Maria learned to shoot people, you learned to heal them.

That of course until the third year, when Carol's training moved to space crafting and yours moved to biological charts. The Pegasus was not the only military project available for you, and being home was good but every time you caught a glimpse of the empty fields near the station, you remember afternoons with Carol and the lack of her ache a hell lot inside your chest.

But visiting her at the base and then at a local bar was a bittersweet occasion.

Because time went by and Carol made a new friend. A lovely and brilliant and apparently less confused woman new best friend. Maria who made her laugh and blush and was such a great company that you couldn't hate her no matter how much the jealousy burned inside your veins.

Somehow, no matter how many dove eyes Carol threw at Maria, she didn't catch them. Immune to her charm entirely. You kinda wished she would teach you that.

The last free week you had was spent visiting Carol and ending up in a bar. But Maria's night was continuing with a good-looking soldier somewheres else, so yours and Carol's would continue with cheap drinks.

It was probably common sense, not to mix alcohol with feelings but you and Carol clearly skipped that class.

You ended up pressed behind the bar's wall in a messy attempt of drunken make-out with your former best friend.

Carol tasted like beer and the army's year changed her. Even drunk, she knew her way around a woman's body now and you had to force your stupid brain to stop wondering about who she had been practicing with. Perhaps Maria was not immune to her charm as you thought she was.

Just as things were getting out of hand, that is, it was probably against some army rules to have sex behind one bar in the military area, Carol pulled away.

She looked so good like that, with messy hair and flushing cheeks, her lips swollen due to the whole thing.

But her eyes were so sad. And you couldn't push the alcohol and the lust away to have clear thoughts on that.

“We can't do this again.” She declares with a seriousness that makes you swallow hard. “I can't.”

She stumbles away and you nearly slip down the hall on your shaky legs. Carol is looking for her car keys but she will definitely fall asleep on the seat.

To be fair, you kinda wished that night would end in her car seat, just in very different scenarios.

“Why not, Danvers?” You manage to question once the anger pushes a little of the alcohol away. Carol sighs tiredly. “Why?” You almost scream and she stops in her tracks, turning to give you a hurt look.

“I can't do this again, okay?” She retorts and she's drunk but she's so hurt. You can see it in her eyes and it kills you to think it is something you have done it. “I don't have the strength in me to get over you again”.

Your world freezes for a whole second. Your mouth is bitter suddenly.

“O-over me?” You repeat her words, confusion mixing with the pain you feel growing in your chest. “When… When were you under me?”

The question is the best of what your drunk brain can come up with but it's enough for Carol to understand.

She lets out a sad chuckle. “C'mon, Lawson. How could you not know? Everyone did. Even my dad, especially my dad.” She corrects herself then, bitterly before taking a deep breath. “It's past. It doesn't matter anymore. We are no longer kids, messing around with things we don't understand. I know what am I. And I know we shouldn’t. I won't jeopardize our friendship again for someone I cannot have.”

There are tears in your eyes, and Carol has the fucking worst timing in the world because your brain simply can't catch up with the meaning of this conversation with all the booze in the way.

“Carol, what are you even saying?”

She just smiles, giving a nod to the bar.

“Let's get inside, I'll get you a cab back to your hotel.”

She doesn't let you question further and the next morning, when the hangover barely allows you to open your eyes, Carol says the worst thing you did last night was try dancing with a Statue.

-&-

Five.

Doctor Lawson has been acting strange lately. She says it's work stress when she returns your calls and ignores your advice about her retiring.

You use your mother's stress as an excuse to come home, and it seems ridiculous that you have to invent reasons to see Carol, but she gives you no choice. Things have been very strange between you in recent months.

The house is a mess, and it's the first time you've worried about the possibility of dementia.

Strange phrases, disconnected words. You think about calling the head of Shield when you put Dr. Lawson to bed after making her some hot tea, but you end up calling Carol.

Your former best friend brings her old truck into your garage.

"Hey, blondie." She hugs you first at the greeting, and you sigh with satisfaction at the contact. You almost forget the stress of the whole meeting with your mother. "It's good to see you."

"I missed you." Carol says with a smile, squeezing you tighter before letting go. "What happened? You sounded worried on the phone."

You sigh before telling her everything you saw, standing there leaning on Carol's truck in the dim light of the garage. It's her turn to sigh when you finish.

"Good thing I brought beer." She comments, getting a laugh out of you. 

You don't even notice the time passing that night, but it's like being back in senior year, sitting side by side in the back of Carol's truck, forgetting the world around you for a moment.

When the case of beers is about to run out, you've said almost everything you have to say. Carol thinks she needs to add something more.

"I know the circumstances aren't the best but... I can't say I'm sad." She begins, looking straight ahead, a half-full can of beer in her hands. "With the possibility of you coming to live here again, I mean. I've kind of hated Washington since you left. And Shield too, for taking you away."

You giggle shyly at this and don't know what to say to Carol, so you just decide to hug her. But you're a bit dizzy after the third beer and miscalculate your approach. You end up too close to her face and can see almost in slow motion how the blue darkens or how Carol chokes on her breath.

"I'm sorry, I-" you begin in a hoarse voice, but she doesn't let you finish. The beer can slips out of her hand as she uses both to pull your face towards her.

It's an intense, messy, and passionate kiss. Carol swallows all the sighs that escape your lips as she presses her mouth to yours. Her tongue doesn't ask for passage. You melt against her and try your best to match her energy, suddenly feeling very dizzy, unrelated to the beer.

Her hands move from your face to your neck and down to your waist. Carol mentions pulling you onto her lap, but the balcony lights flicker on and she grunts as she pulls away.

You're still blinking spellbound at the whole thing, trying to catch your breath as she stands up, adjusting her hair.

"Fuck, I shouldn't have done that." She mutters more to herself than to you, hoarse and upset. You swallow dry. "I'm so stupid."

"Carol."

"You're so fucking stupid, Carol Danvers, I swear to God." She ignores your call, continuing to curse quietly to herself. You frown, but end up looking at the porch; your mother has woken up and looks just as lost as before and you really need to check on her.

When you get out of the truck, you touch Carol on the shoulder, and she turns around almost in despair.

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have done that, I'm leaving-"

"Carol, shut up." You cut her off and don't let her say another word.

She shuts up immediately. "I really have to get back inside, and make sure my mom doesn't turn on any water or store the cat in the fridge again." You chuckle apologetically, stroking her cheek. "But I need you to understand that this isn't a mistake, an accident or a thoughtless act after a few beers. At least it isn't and it never was for me. We need to start talking to each other."

Carol nods quickly, swallowing as she looks down at your swollen lips. "Yeah, talking is good."

You smile, and hear the sound of the cat in the house and think you'd better start running. "Later, okay?"

"Later."

But your mother doesn't have dementia. She's not even allowed in a regular hospital. Shield is strangely private about everything, but you're practically coerced into signing confidentiality papers about the current state of Dr. Lawson, who seems to miraculously improve after spending an hour in a room with other agents.

Carol is the only person you can talk to about things, and she has news of her own.

"Maria is pregnant." She tells you, with a twinkle in her eye, without waiting for you to finish absorbing the news. "And she wants me to be the godmother!"

You're happy for Maria, especially perhaps because she's seeing that handsome soldier and she and Carol have nothing going on. Also, you need to tell Carol that you can go back to Washinton now that your mother is better.

"Oh, I thought..." The blonde hesitates as she hears the news, trying not to look upset by forcing a smile that doesn't reach her eyes. "I thought you'd decided to stay."

You're having breakfast in the living room of your house, Dr. Lawson is working upstairs. You swallow the bitter feeling of hurting Carol again.

"I would, for Mom. But why would I stay in Louisiana?" It's a rhetorical question because you both know very well what would make you stay. Carol laughs sadly, looking down. You get tired of pretending. " I would stay for you. I would stay for... us."

She looks at you in silence, a conflict of emotions on her face. "Don't be ridiculous, you can't just give up your career for a friendship-"

"Carol." You cut her off seriously, and she choked on her sentence, her eyes as tearful as yours. You give her a small smile, trying to ignore the way your heart is pounding in your chest. "You know that's not what I'm saying."

She swallows dryly, and despite reaching out to take your hand, she insists; "I'm gonna need you to say it."

"God, you're such an asshole." You gasp with emotion, laughing as tears of happiness escape yours and her eyes. Carol also laughs but waits. "Okay, Danvers. You've got me. I'm completely, irrevocably in love with you. I have been for a long time, maybe since the first time I saw you. And I'm sorry it took me so long to tell you."

Carol almost knocks over the coffee table when she moves in to kiss you but you wouldn’t have it any other way.

[dystopicjumpsuit]

I kriffing love in-universe curses.

I've been thinking about it since I saw this poll (you should go vote & reblog!), but I didn't want to wax philosophical on somebody else's post and derail the conversation.

From "I'll see you in hell" to "Dank farrik," Star Wars has a long and rich history of swearing, sometimes using real-world curses and sometimes the made-up ones. If you're familiar with my fics, you'll know that I make liberal use of both, and there are a few reasons why.

First of all, I do think that real-world curses pack more of a punch, so I tend to reserve them for lines that I want to have more of an impact. But also, I think a good balance helps keep my fics from veering into farcical territory, unless the farce is the point.

That said? Star Wars swears are just kriffing fun. They can bring levity to a scene that might be in danger of collapsing under its own karking weight. And, fierfek, they give me more options! After all, how many times can I use the word fuck in a single paragraph? A lot, the answer is a lot.

That being said, not everyone is as voracious a cursing enthusiast as I am, and in-universe swears allow writers who are uncomfortable using real-world curses to have the same emotional impact without needing to use language that makes them personally uncomfortable.

But most importantly, in-universe swearing is a fantastic world-building tool that's easy to integrate and lets readers know right away:

Hey. We're in a galaxy far, far away.

Like using "conservator" instead of "refrigerator," or "cyar'ika" instead of "darling," or "protatoes" instead of "potatoes" (in defiance of both my spell-checker and the wisdom of Samwise Gamgee), in-universe curses like kriff, kark, karabast, fierfek, dank farrik, stars! Holy Force! and the Boba-sanctioned scughole can serve as an easy and entertaining shorthand that helps a fic be more immersive and true to the universe.

So I don't know about you, but I'm going to pour a glass of spotchka and raise a toast to the beloved and time-honored convention of kriffing up my fics.

Dank farrik! Let's have a taglist, because why not?

@secondaryrealm @sev-on-kamino @523rdrebel @wings-and-beskar @merkitty49

@anxiouspineapple99 @sinfulsalutations @arcsimper5 @starrylothcat @clio3kantarella

@cloneloverrrrr @goblininawig @ladytano420 @arctrooper69 @sunshinesdaydream

@littlemissmanga @stunkbiggu @starqueensthings @marierg @idontgetanysleep

@moonlightwarriorqueen @dudewhynotthis @sleepycreativewriter @tcwmatchmakingau @littlemissbshine

@multi-fan-dom-madness @heavenseed76 @wizardofrozz @bobaprint @sweetcream-coldfoam

@skellymom @pickleprickle @trixie2023 @mythical-illustrator @dickarchivist

@cw80831 @kimiheartblade @flyiingsly @lightwise @swcowgal

@reader6898 @cdblake1565 @epicy0n @starstofillmydream @msmeredithrose

@totallyunidentified @eclec-tech @euphoriacafe @hipwell @yve-barr

@dangraccoon @transactivecybermemory @etod @ivyyyyy @somewhere-on-kamino

@burningnerdchild @saneabandoned @heidnspeak @maniacalbooper