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rosiesramblings · 1 year ago

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Like Riding a Bike

Fandom: Ted Lasso

WC: 1.4k

A/N: Hello!! It's been a minute!! Sorry about that. Turns out my new job is actually insane. On the plus side, I am getting a ton of overtime lol. ANYWAY, thank you for your patience, and I hope you enjoy this fic, prompted by anon :) Can be read as platonic or pre-relationship.

“For grandad!”

Jamie’s shout echoed across the shadows of the park, and before he knew it Jamie had Roy balanced carefully on a perfectly-legal, not-at-all-stolen, authentic Amsterdam bike.

“Alright, now head up, hips square, aaaaand… pedal!” To his credit, Jamie did not laugh when Roy seemed to fall to the side in slow motion. He didn’t. Okay, maybe his lips twitched a little bit, but Jamie could easily blame that on a muscle spasm after all the exercise he’d done that day.

“It’s alright, good lad, good lad, right back on,” Jamie cheered, channeling his Mummy when she taught him to ride a bike as a sexy little baby. Roy did not seem to appreciate the encouragement the same way baby Jamie had, pushing grown-up Jamie back with a growl as he swung his leg back over the seat.

Clearly, Roy needed some extra help. This time, Jamie planted one hand on the back of Roy’s neck, and the other steady on Roy’s waist. Roy was tense underneath his fingers, but, Jamie figured, he was entitled to a little tension when he’s facing shit from his past. Losing his Grandad really fucked him up, and Jamie wasn’t going to begrudge the man his feelings, no matter how Roy tried to choke them into submission.

“Don’t need my fucking hand held,” Roy growled, undercutting his statement when Jamie let go and Roy immediately toppled sideways. “Fuck!”

“Alright, keep your trousers on, old man,” Jamie put his hands up in the universal ‘do no harm’ gesture. “Let’s try again, come on.”

Roy gave a long suffering sigh, rolled his eyes so far back that Jamie was pretty sure he got a good look at his own brain, and swung his leg back over.

Jamie, trying to be a good friend, lightened his touch since Roy clearly wasn’t a fan of Jamie touching him in the first place.

If possible, Roy got even more tense. “Oi!” He barked at Jamie. “I said don’t fucking need you for balance!” He claimed, scrunching his shoulders like Jamie always did when Sam wiggled his fingers under Jamie’s chin.

Now, Jamie wasn’t what anyone would call a genius. He wasn’t really book smart; the letters moved around too much for him to want to unscramble them. Because of this, people were constantly underestimating him, at least in the brains department. Look, Jamie might not be winning the Know Bell Prize or some shit any time soon, but that didn’t mean he was stupid. He knew what it looked like when a poor sod was ticklish and doing his damned best to hide it.

Jamie bit down on his tongue to hide a mischievous smile. “Look, mate, you don’t have to like it, but you need me until you can at least get a few meters on your own, yeah? C’mon, let’s do this, old man.”

Roy grumbled what Jamie figured was an assent, and Jamie placed his hands just firm enough that it could reasonably be interpreted as keeping Roy balanced, and not as a quest to get Roy Kent to laugh. Holy shit, did Roy giggle? This was going to be so damn fun.

Under Jamie’s light touch, Roy instantly tensed back up. Jamie risked a tease. “C’mon, mate, you’re never gonna keep your balance when you’re this stiff. You gotta loosen up a little,” Jamie squeezed Roy’s neck, and was rewarded with a growl that Jamie would bet his entire trainer closet was covering up a chuckle.

“You can fuck right off if you’re gonna keep talking instead of teaching,” Roy bit out.

“Right-o, Roy-o,” Jamie said cheerfully. “Look straight ahead, not at your toes, just like football, yeah? Otherwise the only place you’re going is down.” Jamie subtly moved his hand a little higher so that it was resting on Roy’s ribs. Roy made a sound like all the air had been punched out of him.

Jamie took his hand from Roy’s neck and used it to cover his smile. God, this made all the four am training sessions more than worth it.

Instead of putting his hand back on Roy’s neck, Jamie decided to up the ante, and wormed his fingers under Roy’s armpit.

This seemed to be the last straw for Roy, who gave a shout and buckled to the side. Jamie went down with him, figuring the jig was up, and started playing Roy’s ribs like a goddamn piano.

“Shit - fuck - you shihihiitfucker - dahahahahahammit Tahahartt!” Roy broke, low, growly giggles (giggles! This was the best day of Jamie’s life.) and tried to curl away from Jamie’s fingers.

“Awww, what’s the matter, mate? Could it be the the big, bad, Roy fucking Kent is as ticklish as a little lad?” Jamie goaded, sneaking a hand underneath Roy’s hoodie and scribbling at his stomach.

Roy tossed his head back, a forced grin on his lips. Jamie was sure if his eyes were open there would be murder in them. “Ihihihi’m gonna fuhuhucking KIHIHILL YOU!” Roy roared, his back arching.

“Roy, mate, this is fucking golden,” Jamie crowed, his smile splitting his face. Roy thrashed hard, harder than Jame was expecting.

Jamie knew he was on borrowed time, so he wormed both of his hands into Roy’s underarms, and he was not disappointed.

Roy Kent. Fucking. Howled.

Jamie couldn’t help but laugh along with him. “Oh my god, this is worse than I thought - mate, this is a fucking liability! How are you supposed to be ‘here, there, and every-fucking - woah!”

Quicker than Jamie could blink, Roy flipped their positions, and was looming about Jamie like a fucking werewolf. And looking at Jamie like he was a fucking steak.

“Roy, mate, it’s all in good fun, yeah? We don’t really have to -”

“Oh no, we abso-fucking-lutely have to,” Roy growled, a smile still in his voice despite the eyebrows he was giving Jamie.

That was all the warning Jamie got before Roy wrecked his shit.

One hand went to Jamie’s hips, kneading like he was baking fucking bread or some shit. The other hand spidered over Jamie’s tummy, which was arguably worse.

“ROHOHOHOHOHOHOY,” Jamie screeched, tossing his head back, a smile splitting his face.

“Fucking what?”

“TIHIHIHIHIHICKLES.”

“I’d fucking well hope so,” Roy said, ruching up Jamie’s shirt in one smooth motion and scribbling across bare skin. “You’d better get used to this, cause we’re gonna be here for a while.”

“SHIHIHIHIHIHIHIT,” Jamie cursed, shaking his head back and forth.

“No? No, we’re not going to be here for a while? Or no, you can’t handle any more tickles? Cause I’m about to prove you wrong on both accounts,” Roy said as the hand squeezing Jamie’s hip moved down to torture his thigh instead.

Somehow, Roy’s growly voice saying ‘tickles’ made it tickle infinitely more. Jamie was no stranger to being tickled - since it was no longer ok to hit him, his teammates had to find other ways to get him to shut his mouth. But Roy was on another fucking level. And Jamie was losing his goddamn mind.

“PLEHEHEHEHEASE,” Jamie was not above begging.

“You want to see something that always gets Phoebe?”

“NOHOHOHOHOHO!”

“Too bad,” Roy said, and leaned down to blow a fucking raspberry above Jamie’s belly button.

In the tiny part of his brain that wasn’t going insane from the tortuous sensations, Jamie imagined telling his 10 year old self that one day he’d be lying down in a park in fucking Amsterdam, getting the absolute shit tickled out of him by his childhood hero. If Jamie could have laughed any harder, he would have.

“ROHOHOHOHOY,” Jamie wailed.

“You ever gonna try that shit again?”

“PROHOHOHOBABLY,” Jamie answered.

“Yeah, knew that was probably too much to ask,” Roy grumbled. “You gonna try that shit in front of anybody else?”

“NOHOHOHOHOHOHOHO,” Jamie promised.

“Fucking sure?”

“YEHEHEHEHEHEHEHES! PLEHEHEHEASE ROHOHOY!” Jamie begged, on the verge of insanity.

“Alright,” Roy said, and finally ceased his tickling.

Jamie curled up in a ball, tugging his shirt back down. He wiped the tears from his face, still giggling.

Roy ruffled Jamie’s hair. “Come on. I’m going to ride a bike tonight even if I blow out my other fucking knee.”

All Jamie could do was groan through his giggles.

#tickle fic #tickling #tfb community #ted lasso tickles #ted lasso tickle fic #roy kent #jamie tartt #biking in amsterdam #jamie made his bed and then he has to lie in it #lmao

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campgender · 2 years ago

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ROY KENT? toxic masculinity-roy fuckin kent? oh hell nah, sorry in advance, this is gonna be long, you just jinxed yourself mentioning that. ;_; whoever said that did NOT watch enough of that boy because his masculinity is beautiful and there's genuinely nothing toxic about it at all. like, we did not watch him suck all his bitchiness up to have a relationship with his girl just for him to get called toxic. not to mention...

FIRST on my list of his display's of butchness: this is Roy "I gave my girlfriend head while she watched a video of me crying my head off" fuckin Kent! Y'all are not gonna pin him for toxic masculinity, c'mon. If that ain't the most butch-ass shit I've ever heard of...

SECOND: I'd put a lot more weight into the suggestion of toxic masculinity if he'd stayed the way he'd been at the beginning of the show but this is a man who grew a fuck-ton even in just the first couple episodes, not to mention throughout the show (which I haven't finished).

He's not a bully, which is surprising for such a hyper-masculine character. Hair as far as the eye can see, with a beard, furry thighs and arms, a low growly voice-But for all his swearing and other foul language, he isn't a bully. He doesn't pretend, he says no, and he sets clear boundaries, but even with children who he has loads of power over, he's very careful to never cross the line into bullying. He jokes, clearly knowing the children, barking orders and playing ball. He has a niece and even though he doesn't understand the book wrinkle in time, he reads it to her and only after getting three quarters through does he go to ted to demand what the fuck its supposed to be about.

THIRD: the way sometimes he looses speech and yet he STILL. FUCKING. COMMUNICATES. beautiful. Which rolls straight into FOUR, which is the way he communicates! He's very clear, very blunt, obviously. But its not just that. Its how as we get to know Roy Kent, more and more, we see how when he gets overwhelmed or annoyed, he often steps back from the situation so that he doesn't blow his temper at someone he likes or someone who doesn't deserve it...which is very, dare I say it? chivalrous! Its not a word you think when you think of roy kent, but he is! He's chivalrous! He isn't quite comfortable around rebecca, think of early season 2, but when he sees she needs it, he tells her she deserves the goddamn world in a partner, not just "fine", and he didn't tell her that because he had to! Keeley would've left it and he could've gotten away with a minimal answer. He told her because she deserved to hear it and he knew that and he's a fucking kind person!

just like that time at the end of season 1 when he and keeley were photographed by that man and he stole the photos and then handed them to keeley and gave the man back his camera. he could've smashed the fuckin camera. he's exactly the type of person to smash the camera! but he didn't. why? because they cost a shit-ton of money and because he wanted keeley to have photos of their first date. ;_; its called CHIVALRY. which. is. BUTCH. AS. FUCK. need i go on?

roy kent's masculinity is beautiful, it's a joy to behold, it's butch as hell, thank you, i hope you don't mind me dropping an essay in your askbox, sorry abt that.

OH SHIT YOU HAVEN’T FINISHED IT. you haven’t seen what they did to my bestie in the finale 😭😭 how they MALIGNED his NAME — if you do watch it come hmu though bc holy shit am i still livid.

anyway. yes to all of this!!!!! especially how he communicates while also losing speech <3333 i get so fucking upset every time someone calls him repressed bc like. he literally isn’t!!! he’s very aware of & in touch with his emotions!!!!!!!!!! what he is is stoic & it’s bc 1) he’s autistic 2) y’all are assholes. like. i feel like fucking crying every time i think about the scene in s1 when he’s just been benched: keeley’s excited but kind of impatient “oh, so you are ready to talk about real stuff now!!” and the way it makes it seem like a bad thing for him to need some time to process. & then her really sarcastic & dismissive response when he says how scared he is of losing what the entire fucking country has made his sole identity:

I think men that feel sorry for themselves are so sexy. And if you start telling me how hard it is that you play a game for a living, I think I might come.

i see fucking red!!!!!!! the show multiple times (including in the finale) belittles his feelings and/or throws away his characterization and then treats that like a #Feminist moment. & like in the previous example, yeah keeley prompts phoebe to say how she sees roy & that’s a sweet moment, but keeley never actually apologizes or says how she sees or thinks of roy outside of sex.

& then in s3 honestly his apology letter to her made me feel ill. like there’s a difference between owning your shit — which i do think she deserved an apology for him breaking up with her out of nowhere — and saying everything is your fault. that’s not growth, that’s still self-hatred. and like i understand keeley was going through a lot but i don’t think it was fair to him for him to confess his love & her fuck him while like. presumably knowing she doesn’t want to get back together.

i’m also so fucking livid about the show comparing roy and FUCKING RUPERT????? in that scene, again for some sort of shallow #GirlBoss moment. fuck that fuck the writers fuck like most of the fan attitudes i’ve seen.

also the way the “roy is sorry for not understanding keeley” scene is played — yeah, he should’ve communicated better, but she just started yelling at him out of nowhere & revealed she’d been complaining about him being clingy to all their colleagues. and she never apologizes for not talking to him sooner & her bottling her feelings until she exploded at him???? instead he apologizes for doing….. something she’d never told him she had a problem with.

i’m working on a fic about this aspect but the show has no fucking sympathy for his becoming disabled and it’s so transparent. obviously ted lasso in general is really bad at acknowledging systemic issues — “just be a goodfish!!” :))) — it’s a liberal show & you should overcome adversity by individual work ie therapy & forgiving your oppressors. but like there’s literally no acknowledgment after that scene when he gets shut down by keeley in s1 of how ableism affects roy’s self-image.

as a disabled person whose mobility impairment started with a knee issue in sports, i also think the show did a fucking shit job with his disability in general. like they played it for a laugh — you might not have watched 3x11 yet so feel free to skip this paragraph but “i played injured all the time / you can’t go up stairs!!” followed by jamie still playing injured to, what, make a point about forgiveness?? shows how fucking seriously they took that, and roy was walking up stairs earlier in that very episode.

similarly, “everybody run to the bus… except roy!” earlier in s3 was an emotional moment for me bc like oh they’re acknowledging how this affects his life!! …..and then they showed him running (on pavement!!!) with jamie all the fucking time. like sure not every knee issue is the same as mine, okay, whatever, but either be consistent or throw in a line about him having a good day today or something. jesus fucking christ it’s so ableist & careless & disrespectful.

anyway my hot take is that as they’re written, keeley & roy shouldn’t be together not because, as brenden fucking hunt put it, “he has work he needs to do on himself first,” but because she doesn’t respect him & fundamentally you can’t make compromises with people who think how you are is wrong.

i do really like keeley especially in s1, i think a lot of this is fuck-ups on the writers’ parts that keeley were she a real person either wouldn’t have done or would’ve apologized for. but as it’s written? fucking yikes.

anyway that got really off track from your thoughts lol but i absolutely adored reading this, it was a delight & i would love to hear more any time 💓💓💓

#asks #roy kent #ted lasso tv

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brittlebonesguy · 2 years ago

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4,5,6,7

stephanie.....she doesn’t have to sleep out in the rain every night jesus. once again clay i can’t stand you dumbass opinions kindly shut your mouth for the rest of the season please. all three of these men of this tribe: ted, clay, and brian are at the bottom of my list i hate them. i truly don’t like ted or clay. you wanna know why it wasn’t a team effort shii ann? because it was dead fucking quiet even coming up with a name for the dummy you’re meant to decorate. you also literally said you don’t care. so.....all of you be annoying i guess. i REALLY hate the way the men talk about the women on the orange tribe. and i don’t like that they call jan granny. especially since they do nothing around the camp. the women are getting the water, making the food and the men? sitting the water. and there it is. the outright sexism. fuck you guys. helen is eating with these comments against the men oof. thats fully correct ghandia unfortunately women never stick together in this game and all three of you will be picked off. wanna try that sentence again clay or are you just gonna keep stumbling through it. stop not jeff chastising clay’s choice of a nickname. i am so disappointed in you helen. truly. ghandia you have every right not to let it go.

who wouldn’t for you clay, you fucking pig. ........a lot of people eat the organs of animals robb. and also why are you turning your nose up to perfectly good food just because it’s an organ. you guys have been starving for days but you draw the line there? he better pray one of the challenge isn’t gross food based. brian really has a high opinion of himself. great little piss baby got hurt and somehow its shii ann’s fault. can’t wait to hear him complain about this for the next three day. these people are so useless. how the fuck do you lose whole fucking boat. the island isn’t mysterious you’re just stupid. ted is absolutely responsible for the boat but i’ll just blame it on you anyway clay. its more fun that way. ot instead of yelling you could just get out of the water and read the fucking note yourself. clay: its betting on food jan: its a gambling thing clay: no shit sherlock. okay,,,,,so you’re allowed to point out the obvious but no one else? your sexism is showing give me 10 minutes with him alone in a room and he’s coming back with at least three broken bones. helen what makes you think you won’t be out next right after jan. i hate when people say “oh i’d hate to do it but that’s the decision that the tribes made i have to vote for them” no you DONT you literally don’t have to. i can feel how much jeff doesn’t like robb.

oh so we’re all just gonna drop that word whenever huh? shii ann now on a shit list. if you don’t want anyone to know about your secret alliance then don’t fall into silence the moment someone walks up while you’re talking. i don’t understand the constant judgement of jan. she seems really sweet and she just wants to have a fucking funeral for a bat okay? piss off. she deserves a better season honestly. firstly robb needs to stop saying baby to shii ann and secondly he truly does not know how to spell her name considering he keeps putting s.h.bye BITCH! thank god robb didn’t make to to merge. i don’t know what i would have done if he did. i get the vibe that jeff is so done with this season.

why did it look like brian was going in for a kiss with penny. really hate brian’s cockiness. rest of her life? its just survivor ken. penny does give mean girl vibes. yeah shii ann leaving tracks for this tribe

#survivor #survivor5

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galaxy-of-me · 6 years ago

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why are y’all sleeping on this?

#bnha #mha #ojiro mashirao #kaminari denki #ojinari #kamioji #why is no one talking about this #studio bones wanted even more gay sooooo #ojinari is so pure wth #anyway thanks for coming to my ted talk and reading me lose my shit #original posts #100

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shititbe · 4 years ago

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Anyway, Peter Parker is Bi, and I Won’t Be Convinced Otherwise.

Firstly, we have to get our bases covered. What exactly is Bi-sexuality? What is sexuality?

Sexuality is defined as a persons identity in relation to gender(s) they are attracted to. Why is this important? Peter’s sexuality has never been specifically stated in the comics, nor in any other form of media. It’s assumed that he is straight because of his popular relationship with Mary Jane Watson in the comics, and the movies.

Now that we have a bases for what exactly sexuality is and how it’s defined, let’s go over Peter’s partners.

Obviously Peter and Mary Jane are a piece of comic book history. They eventually get married, though sadly, during the events of Civil War II (I think, don’t quote me) Peter and Mary Jane sell their marriage to Mephisto in order to save Aunt May

They later had their memories of their marriage restored, they have yet to get back together and it’s been a few issues if I remember correctly. Next we have Peter’s first, and most unfortunate love, Gwen Stacy.

They dated in high school where she later died. Of course, Peter has dated other people (namely, Black Cat, Betty Brant, Carol Danvers, Anna Maria, Cindy Moon, Lian Tang, and so on). Since we have his known history of heterosexuality out there, we need to move onto another important part of Peter’s Bi-sexuality. An important implication in any media, especially queer media though, and that is the homoerotic subtext.

Homoerotic subtext is important part of queer culture, a lot of the time it’s used to portray a characters queerness without saying it out (see: Dorian Gray by Oscar Wild or Great Gatsby By Fitz). In current decade, homoerotic subtext is often used for queer baiting or creating more realistic male friendships.

So what’s the difference between someone creating a health male friendship (or a character comfortable in their heterosexuality) and implying a character is queer?

Here are some examples of a healthy male character, both with himself and his friendships.

Clearly he’s just taking the shit, and messing around with Reed. He’s comfortable enough (or as I like to see it, so traumatized because good god this guy has been Spider-Man since he was 15 good god that’s awful. He probably doesn’t care anymore). Here are some examples of Peter a little more than just a straight man shooting the shit.

This has three meanings. Two of which I will take, one of which is just deeply embarrassing. Despite Peter’s history with humiliating events, I don’t think he would get his own spunk in his eyes. Leaving the other two options, he has experience getting spunk of - some kind - in his eyes, and/or he’s taking the shit again. Which is very likely.

Kissing a cop? For....no reason? A little not so hetero of you Peter.

You can practically hear his disappointment in his voice. Also could be read as taking the shit, but why would you.

Making out with The Thing? Gay.

This one is the most important. Peter is clearly tired, annoyed by his teammates (see wolverine being wolverine in the corner). Shits on fire, its mid battle, and Peter has the audacity to mutter “I hate men” to himself. The only people I have every heard say this in that was are lgbt and straight women, and lgbt men. This kind of expression only comes from people who date, or deal with men in a completely different world than straight men. Straight men use this phrase as an endearment, “Oh have you seen Bill today, I hate that guy.” “Man Jerry can do so many push-ups, I hate that guy.” Very different language, and implications (I also, obviously don’t know how straight men speak).

Now that we’ve gone over our bases, and homoerotic subtext. How else could we gather that Peter Parker is Bi? There are many tropes in media - queer media - that allure to a characters queerness. Like homoerotic subtext, there are ways to tell an audience something without specifically saying it.

This is a gay wedding Peter went to in the recent comics. I don’t know if any of you have been to a gay wedding recently, but Peters face (the first panel above the wedding) is the same exact face I made at my first gay wedding. It’s the face of excitement for not only the couple, but for yourself. The hope that maybe, you too can actually be in a same-sex relationship.

I’m also going to allure to queer tropes as stated previously. Such as the real, and fictional trope of lgbt people sticking together. Thousands of years of belittlement and oppression will make groups of people not want to wonder out, and subconsciously look for others like them.

Johnny Storm (and Wade Wilson since he comes in later but I couldn’t find a picture of the confirmation) is cannon Bi-sexual (Pan-sexual).

Their friendship is deeply homoerotic as most queer friendships in media and real life are. Johnny flirts with Peter on many occasions (saying his ideal women is a female version of Peter, inviting him over to watch is sex tape, and so on) and of course oh my god they were roommates.

Some other popular queer tropes are: Found Family, Soulmates, and Enemies to lovers. Because it’s superhero related, this includes the Identity Porn tag as well.

Peter Parker and Wade Wilson have a famous Love/Hate relationship. I mean, how could you expect anything less when your first meeting with this known mercenary is him throwing your civilian persona out the window of a car. Now, Wade still doesn’t know Peter is Spider-Man in the current run of comics, but that doesn’t make anything about them any less gay.

For the Found Family Trope:

Because it’s Peter and Wade, their whole development can be read as Enemies to Friends to Lovers, so I wont bother backing that up because, uh, it speaks for itself. One panel really does to add that cause though

I’m not going to explain what a free-pass list is.

The Soulmates part I know I have to back up.

For SoulMates:

Now this panel requires a little explanation. Wade kills Peter, not knowing he’s Spider-Man. Weasel takes over for Peter (they don’t know its him) so no one suspects he’s dead. Deadpool begins to feel guilty he killed his best buds best bud, so he tries to bring Peter back to life. Losing his stunning good looks (switching back to how he looked before Weapon X making his wife Shiklah estranged (then she married Dracula but thats beside the point)). Spider-Man is Peter’s “true self” or patronus for Harry Potter fans. Wade is stupid and hasn’t connected the dots yet, effectively making him the biggest simp in history. Seriously, who destroys their marriage for the c h a n c e for getting some with their idol? A Simp, that’s who.

Peter forgives Wade for killing him (and for saving him from killing their genetic daughter itsy-bitsy). If someone killed me they better be hot as fuck before I even thing about forgiving them. Ignoring Peter’s super sexy forgiving nature, uh, he’s kinda simping.

Died in each others arms. Nothing else is needed.

They’re heartmates. From what I read, the feeling has to be mutual in order for it to work. The witches (long story, comics are hard to explain) that captured deadpool were expecting his wife so they could get the headmistress back. Instead, they got Peter. Basically Heartmates = soulmates but chosen for you instead of chosen by you.

To conclude my point:

Thank you for coming to my TED Talk.

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sineala · 3 years ago

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Captain America: The Great Gold Steal

I wrote this up last week because I did not have access to my usual comics files but I figured I could review something that was just a book. So here is a review of the 1968 Captain America novel Captain America: The Great Gold Steal by Ted White, with an introduction by Stan Lee. I really liked it, actually! It was surprisingly good!

This novel features: Cover art of Captain America holding his shield in one hand and a very large gun in the other! A scene where the villains dramatically unmask Captain America and have absolutely no idea who he is! Captain America being extremely, extremely depressed about being in the future! Captain America dropping acid!

(I'm not kidding about the last part. In this novel there is a lot of LSD use. By Captain America. Talk about something the Comics Code wouldn't ever let you put in a comic book. Thank you, 1968.)

Faithful readers may remember that some time ago I posted reviews of Marvel prose novels from the 1970s. There was a line of prose novels featuring everyone's favorite Marvel superheroes, published by Pocket Books in the late 70s; I have reviews of the Iron Man, Captain America, and Avengers entries in the series; I liked the Iron Man one best, and I also have a Doctor Strange one I have not yet read. They're all short and action-packed paperback reads, of varying quality; the only one by anyone you might have heard of is the Avengers one, which was written by David Michelinie, who was actually writing the Avengers run at the time. That one was, um. An experience.

(Yes, it's "prose novel" because otherwise the assumption is "graphic novel.")

Marvel still publishes prose novels now, of course, also of varying quality; some are new plots and some are straight-up novelizations of comics arcs, which I guess is useful if you want to, say, read Civil War and not look at pictures at the same time. I also have a bunch of those that I could probably review if anyone wants. But, anyway, I personally am particularly intrigued by the older Marvel prose novels, both because the stories are all original and not retellings, and also because I often prefer the characterization found in older comics. And the older prose novels of course use the then-current characterization. So reading a Marvel prose novel from 1979 is like getting to read a brand-new comic from 1979, and that's a whole lot of fun for a nerd like me. Also do you know what's not subject to the Comics Code? Prose novels. So things can happen in these that definitely could not happen in comics of the same era.

This brings me to my current prose novel, which is something else entirely. I mean, okay, not really, it's still a Marvel prose novel. But it's not part of the same line. It's actually a lot older.

Bantam Books actually published Marvel prose novels in the late 60s. Yep, a full decade earlier. They published exactly two, so I'm going to go out on a limb here and say that they were probably not bestsellers. The first one, which I do not own and now sort of want to track down, was an Avengers novel in 1967, The Avengers Battle the Earth-Wrecker. And then in 1968 they published the novel I am currently holding in my hands, Captain America: The Great Gold Steal by Ted White.

(I am still not sure why no one involved in titling this book thought of the word "theft.")

Judging by the back copy, it appears to be about Captain America foiling the villains' dastardly plan to steal gold from the Federal Reserve. Oh boy. Fun.

So this book is from 1968. The modern Marvel universe had kicked off just a few short years ago! Captain America was just getting his own solo book after the end of Tales of Suspense! And here's a novel about him, back when certain elements of his characterization were perhaps a little more flexible than they are today, by which I mean that the cover art -- which the internet informs me was painted by Mitchell Hooks -- is a striking full-body portrait of Captain America, head held high, shield in one hand... and a very large gun in the other. Hell, yeah. Not gonna see that in today's Cap comics, are you? It's amazing and I love it.

(Okay, you might see that in Ults. I'm pretty sure I have seen that in Ults, actually. But this is still cool.)

So the cover art is a definite plus, and apparently it's one of the few reasons anyone has ever heard of this novel. The other reason -- and the reason this is more expensive than the later novels, I assume -- is that Stan Lee's name is slapped on the cover, because he wrote an introduction. (I think I paid about $30 for this. The others were definitely under $20.)

All right. Here we go.

The first page is actually a brief summary of Steve's origin story, but not a version I was familiar with. Steve was born July 9, 1917 (yes, I was surprised too), was orphaned at a young age, and was a student at Columbia University (!) before Rebirth, which in this version is a gradual process that is also extremely body-horror. Steel tubing was inserted into the marrows of his bones. He was fed "high-protein compounds." Then they gave him a chemical that "gave him complete control over every nerve, muscle, and cell in his now-magnificent body." Sweet. Where can I get some of that?

The blurb also confirms his control over his own metabolism as well as his healing factor ("wounds would heal in half the normal time"), which is nice, because sometimes I wonder if canon even remembers the healing factor.

(I don't know why Marvel has this kink for filling people's bones with metal, though. It's not actually empty in there, guys! You need your bone marrow! How else do you want people to make new blood cells?)

The book is dedicated to "Jack Kirby and Stan Lee, without whom there would be no Captain America." Hey, Marvel, Joe Simon would like a word with you. I'm just saying.

The Stan Lee introduction is three paragraphs written in Stan Lee's, um, inimitable, distinctive and extremely florid narrative style -- if you've read any of his work, you know what I mean -- and making the point that Captain America is incredible and you will like him. If you are just discovering him for the first time, you will definitely like him. Okay. Thanks. I guess.

Oddly, the writing style here is substantially different than any of the other Marvel prose novels I've read; it doesn't immediately front-load you with exposition and a cast of colorful superheroes. It opens with a sort of James Bond spy-novel feel, running through a series of unnamed villains and bystanders, and a man who wants nothing more than to talk to Captain America but is killed before he can. Steve comes in halfway through the chapter, and he seems to be written for a reader who doesn't necessarily know who he is, and he isn't introduced as Captain America with his shield flying ahead of him to smite evildoers, or anything like that. He's just a tall, handsome blond guy who is reading a bunch of novels and is unsatisfied by all of them because all he can think of is the past. It's definitely an attitude I would expect from Steve in this era -- he is very much a Man Out Of Time here -- but it's also not how I expected the book to introduce him. You wouldn't even know he was Captain America by the end of the opening chapter, which then ends with a digression about the history of NYC subway tunnels. It's like it wants to appeal to someone who has watched a bunch of Man from UNCLE and just wants to read a cool thriller. Which is not at all what I was expecting.

By the beginning of the second chapter, of course, we discover that Steve is Captain America, as he changes into his uniform. The narration refers to him as Rogers when it's in his POV, if anyone is curious. He apparently keeps the cowl off in the mansion, because the cowl annoys him.

It was not so much that he needed to conceal his identity these days, because for all intents and purposes he had no other identity. Steve Rogers was officially dead, and had been for almost twenty years. Captain America *was* his identity. It was only when he donned the tight-fitting blue uniform with its shield chest-emblem, the red snug-fitting leather boots, and the heavy, yet pressure-sensitive red-leather gauntlets, that he began to feel real -- a complete human being.

Steve? Buddy, are you okay there? You're really not okay, are you, huh?

You see what I mean? They're really hitting the early-canon angst. Hard.

(Also it sounds like his uniform is a few sizes too small.)

We then get an expanded version of the backstory from the beginning excerpt. In this version of canon, Steve actually has an older brother, Alan, who is handsome and athletic and basically amazing, and when they are orphaned they are raised by their aunt and uncle. Steve gets TB twice as a kid, nearly dies from it, and when the stock market crashes, ends up separated from his brother and in an orphanage after his uncle loses everything.

(Honestly if I were writing this book, his brother would be the secret villain. Chekhov's Gun!)

Steve has glasses, gets bullied, is a nerd and an honor student, and studies law at Columbia because he wants to help stop fraudulent business practices and also fight organized crime. Legally, I mean. In a manner relating to law. I guess he's sort of like Daredevil. The lawyer part of Daredevil.

And then he joins Rebirth, and this is the part where I had to put the book down for several minutes, because Erskine's secret chemical, the key to making super-soldiers... is LSD.

Oh my God. You should see my face right now. My expression is, I am sure, indescribable. I'm trying not to wake the dog up laughing.

I just. Holy shit. This book is from 1968 in a way I definitely was not expecting. What the fuck, Marvel?

This project was headed by the brilliant biochemist, Dr. Erskine. His work with the endocrine system, and chemical body control, was well beyond that of his contemporaries. Only he, of all his colleagues, had fathomed the secrets of the Swiss Dr. Hoffman's 1938 discovery -- the mind-controlling LSD-25.

Let's just pause here for a few minutes and contemplate this.

I will point out that Albert Hofmann (yes, the book spelled his name wrong) didn't actually discover that LSD was a hallucinogen until 1943 when he accidentally tried it, but I am positive that 1968 here was a time when Some People were convinced LSD was a wonder drug. I'm still laughing. As far as I can tell, legal manufacturing of it stopped in 1965 so I am pretty sure that the author did not just decide to name a drug that had an ostensible legal therapeutic use, because it wouldn't have still had one by '68.

Anyway, in this version of events, Rebirth is a month-long process that involves a lot of vitamins, physical conditioning and training, and, yes, putting metal in his bones like he's the next Wolverine. They're filling his bones with stainless steel rods to make him stronger. That doesn't seem like a great idea to me, but I am also not sure about dropping acid to gain superpowers. Clearly I am not a genius scientist. Also Erskine knows what DNA is, apparently, because he's just that great. Anyway. Other than the metal, those all seem like relatively normal interventions. So far.

Now Steve has become fairly big and strong (and I guess he still has metal in his bones? this concerns me!) but they need to make him superhuman, so, yes, really, it's time to drop acid. Several pages of this book are devoted to describing Steve's acid trip. His acid trip is amazing and he discovers that he has conscious control of his entire body down to the cellular level. He can control the adrenaline in his bloodstream! He can tighten his muscle fibers! And when he's done tripping he still remembers how to do this, if not exactly on a conscious level, but he can still access the abilities. And that is how you make a super-soldier. It's LSD. Remember, kids, drugs are awesome! Do drugs!

Let's maybe take a few more minutes to think about this.

I just. I have no words. How did anyone at Marvel agree to print this?

I think for the most part superhero origin stories tend not to involve real drugs because people are generally aware that drugs they've heard of won't make you into a superhero. I guess this is what it looks like when you invoke the names of real drugs. They probably wanted something that sounded more realistic but somehow I don't think this was the best way to go. (Radiation, of course, will definitely make you into a superhero but I feel like most people have accepted that as one of the conventions of the genre.)

Anyway, after that Erskine gets killed by Nazis, of course, and Steve goes to war, and for some reason this book contains footnotes by Stan Lee himself listing the comics you can read all of this in. Just like the actual comics do!

We are introduced to Bucky, who for some reason is also from the LES in this version, although not anyone Steve knew before the war, and there is of course a description of Bucky's tragic death and Steve's subsequent icing.

They are really, really stressing the Man Out Of Time thing here:

No other man could have survived so fantastic a voyage through time. And no other man could feel so displaced by time.

He was a man twenty years in his own future. By rights, he should be nearly fifty years old -- nearly twice the age of his fellow Avengers. Yet his mind and his body were not yet thirty.

When the Avengers had brought him back to New York with them and insisted that, as an honored hero of the past, he join them, he felt a sort of melancholy homesickness for his own time and world.

We then get a few paragraphs with the usual being sad that he let Bucky down and got him killed, and also that he misses his family, and that Steve Rogers doesn't exist anymore, and that nobody is alive who remembers him, and that war is hell.

Hey, Steve, maybe the drugs you should do are antidepressants. Just a thought.

Also, this book is 118 pages and we're not out of the origin story flashback until page 34. I think there are some pacing issues here.

Actually, I lied, the flashback keeps going, but now we're up to the Avengers finding him, and I have to say that the list of things Steve finds strange about the future is kind of charming when the future is 1968. Men have long hair! Women have shorter skirts! Everyone is kind of blasé about rocket launches because there have been so many space missions now. (Oh, come on, you haven't even landed on the moon yet, 1968! You're not that blasé.) Color TV! And, excitingly, LPs! You can now listen to 36 minutes of consecutive music. (I actually don't know what previous standard he's describing that is a ten-inch record that holds six minutes a side because I don't think 45s are that big. Yeah, no, I just checked and 45s are seven inches in diameter. Hmm. Oh, never mind. He means 78 rpm, doesn't he? In my defense, the record player my family had when I was a kid didn't play those.)

The description of Steve coming into New York for the first time is definitely written by someone who knows New York, which is fun. There is generally a lot of local flavor to the setting of this book. That’s one of the best parts.

There is a brief summary of Steve's feelings about all the Avengers -- he is most impressed by Thor, which, I mean, fair, he's an actual god -- and Hank telling him all about how he can live in Tony's mansion. With Jarvis. Who Hank says is actually from Flatbush. Apparently Steve spent a lot of time at the NYPL branch at 5th and 42nd trying to catch up on history. And then of course the Avengers ditched him and gave him the Kooky Quartet, and for some reason they're not here right now either so it's just Steve being sad and alone and dealing with this mysterious dead guy. I think probably the book is also done explaining fiat currency now. This is definitely the weirdest Marvel novel I've read.

Anyway, we have now returned to what is ostensibly the actual plot. Steve shows up at the New York Federal Reserve Bank (I guess the theft is happening here and not, like, at Fort Knox) with the gold bullion that the dead guy from the beginning of the book had on him -- I think I got distracted by the LSD bit and forgot to mention that part, but the dead guy was carrying some US government gold -- because the actual plot is that villains are trying to tunnel into the bank vault and steal gold. Steve discovers this after he gets the bank manager to give him a tour. The bank manager tries to refuse, citing security concerns -- Captain America could be anyone under that mask, after all! Steve just smiles and says, "If I removed my mask, would you have any better idea of who I am?" and I guess that's a flawless argument because he gets his tour.

(I'm sorry, all I can think of is that one gif from the JLA cartoon where Lex Luthor bodyswaps with the Flash, announces that now that he's in the Flash's body he's going to discover the Flash's secret identity, then pulls off his own mask, stares at himself in the mirror, and says, "I have no idea who this is.")

Given that the theme of Steve's interior life in this novel is "Steve Rogers died twenty years ago" it seems even more sad that Steve is just walking around basically saying, yeah, well, I'm nobody. And apparently that is being reaffirmed for him by the narrative.

So Steve goes down the tunnels, takes out some of the bad guys, and gets himself knocked out and buried in a collapsing tunnel. Don't worry, he's gonna be fine.

A lot of this book, by the way, is from the POV of random people, like this bank guard who went with Steve into the tunnels:

He had wondered, briefly, if a man like Captain America ever knew the pinch of too many bills, had ever felt desperate over the arrival of yet another mouth to feed. But, of course, Captain America had no family, and would hardly concern himself with such matters. It didn't occur to Thompson to wonder if this in itself might not be something for which to pity Captain America.

Rude. I mean, come on, do we really need random characters telling us Steve is a sad sack whom nobody loves? Steve's already got that covered! (Also, how does this guy know Captain America has no family?)

Anyway, thanks to the power of LSD, Steve is going into a trance, amping up his metabolism (he loses "several pounds" in a few minutes), and making himself super-strong so he can dig himself out. Hooray. This is definitely how human bodies work. Also LSD. This is definitely how LSD works. Yes.

Steve then finds out that a couple of the guards who were with him in the tunnels died down there and he goes home and eats dinner while stewing in miserable guilt because he was responsible for their deaths. He's really not okay. I'm not sure the book actually understands how not okay they have made him. Then someone from SHIELD is on the phone for him and he is briefly cheered up by the thought that it might be Sharon although I think we should also note that the narrative makes it clear that at this point in canon Steve still doesn't know her name. Remember when that was a thing?

Alas, it is not Sharon; it's just a random SHIELD agent who happens to have information about the plot and asks to meet. Then, as Steve leaves to go to the meeting, we get two pages of exhaustive description about the mansion layout and how it's built relative to the surrounding buildings. It feels like this book was written by a frustrated city planner. But anyway, the meeting is a setup and the villains capture Steve.

They knock Steve out, drug him, take him to their hideout, and tie him to a chair. Except, once again thanks to the power of LSD, the tranquilizer they're using wears off way sooner than they expected and so Steve feigns unconsciousness and listens to them discuss their evil plans.

And then the villains unmask him and I swear it's exactly like that JLA gif:

Rogers heard footsteps scuffing across a thick carpet, and then Sparrow's voice again, almost directly over him. His ears still buzzed, but he fought to catch the elusive familiarity of the man's tone. He wished he dared open his eyes.

"This is a moment which I, personally, have long awaited," Sparrow said, his voice rising in triumph. "*The unmasking of Captain America!*"

Then, his nails scraping along Rogers' face, Sparrow dug his fingers under his cowl, and ripped it back. Rogers felt air strike his exposed cheeks and forehead. Then fingers clutched his blond hair and pulled his head back. "Behold!" Sparrow said.

Raven was first to speak. "Well, I dunno about you, Sparrow, but it rings no bells with me. I never seen him before."

Starling agreed. "His face means nothing to me."

"He could be anybody," said Robin. "What good does this do?"

Sparrow let Rogers' head fall back to his chest, and his voice when he spoke was defeated. "I don't know. Nothing, I guess. I always wondered. I felt, if these guys -- these costumed heroes -- wore masks, it must mean something."

"Captain America was missing for twenty years," Starling said. "That could mean the first one died, and this one took his place. He looks awfully young."

"Perhaps. It doesn't really matter. Let's get going."

(Yes, the villains all have bird-themed codenames. I have no idea why.)

This scene just makes my day. I love dramatic unmaskings. I bet they'd have been a lot happier unmasking Iron Man.

The villains then leave Steve and go to a power plant, where we switch POVs to one of the plant employees and get two entirely unnecessary paragraphs about his racist and anti-Semitic thoughts about his coworkers before the villains murder him. Great. Thanks.

Anyway, the villains cause a blackout, while meanwhile they've left Steve alone with the girl villain, and Steve is busy trying to persuade her that crime doesn't pay. He's moved from the "do you know what they'll do to you in prison?" theme onto "how exactly are you going to spend a billion dollars in gold bullion when it's illegal for civilians to possess? who are you going to do business with?" and then points out that gold is heavy and hard to transport, which is when she gets out a a knife.

The bad guys are off to steal the gold, and Steve has now successfully turned the girl they left him with, because she frees him. Of course, the first thing he does is put the cowl back on.

"Why do you wear that?" she asked.

"The mask?" He smiled. "It gives people something external to concentrate upon."

"But..."

"Without it, I'm just another ordinary-looking man. With it, I become a symbol. For some people it creates awe; for others, fear. Look at me. I'm different now, aren't I? With the mask on."

"Yes," she nodded. "You look -- bigger, somehow. Stronger. Fierce, implacable. You look a little scary."

"Exactly. You no longer see me as a person, but as a thing -- an Avenger. It can be a potent psychological weapon."

"They were so disappointed, when they took your mask off. As though underneath they'd find a famous person."

"Maybe that goes on TV -- handsome playboys, and all that. But I've been anonymous all my life. Even my real name would be meaningless to you, to them. No, the mask is part of the uniform, a psychological device. That's the whole story.

Now: let's get out of here. You have a good deal more to tell me yet, and we can't waste more time."

Bwahaha. In a few years, Steve's going to be pretty surprised about who superheroes are, I think.

STEVE, now: Superheroes definitely aren't secretly handsome playboys! That would be silly! STEVE, after Molecule Man: fuck fuck fuck FUCK FUCK I'm such an idiot

I'm definitely looking forward to that.

Also, not that the issue of Steve's psyche actually recurs after this, but he's once again having the narrative vindicate his belief that Steve Rogers is dead and whoever he is under the cowl doesn't matter. Steve, I don't think this is very healthy.

Steve then tracks down the villains stealing the gold, has some geopolitical thoughts about where the gold could be going (he thinks either South Africa or Russia for the best laundering potential) and then hides himself in the villains' trunk while they drive to Staten Island, which is where they're taking the gold out of the country from.

During the final confrontation, Steve finally gets to see the villains, and he discovers that the one in charge is in fact the director of the Federal Reserve Bank who Steve met at the beginning of this book. Gasp. But that's not all! He's also... the Red Skull!

Honestly, I was kind of surprised; I didn't think this was the kind of book where we'd get any known comic villains, but I guess it's always gotta be the Red Skull. I think he's the only one of Steve's big villains who likes to disguise himself; Zemo has obvious disguise issues and I imagine it's also hard to cover up Zola's Teletubby-esque television body.

Steve shoots one of the villains, because I guess that's what he does in this era of canon.

So the plot wraps up in, like, two pages, because for some reason all these early Marvel novels wrap up very fast. Red Skull, of course, attempts to escape and then disappears and his body is never found. The end.

Well.

That was definitely a book. That I read. Believe it or not, I actually think it was the best of these early Marvel prose novels that I've read so far, even if it was also the absolute weirdest; I thought the thriller-style plot was entertaining, I liked Steve and his Extremely Sad characterization, I obviously enjoy all the identity themes, I liked how very detailed the New York setting was, and I do like how they tried to treat it all seriously. I mean, sure, this did lead to LSD in the super-soldier serum in presumably the name of realism, but I felt like the book was trying to present superheroes in a way that didn't feel silly and also didn't really take for granted that the reader would automatically accept superheroes.

It felt like a book that was written hoping that people who weren't superhero fans would read it, if that makes any sense. And I thought that was interesting, because most modern superhero work that I can think of assumes they've got complete audience buy-in and everyone is willing to suspend their disbelief and we all know the genre conventions and are expecting people running around in brightly-colored spandex. Whereas this is more like a James Bond novel if for some reason James Bond were called upon to defend his decision to wear brightly-colored spandex instead of bespoke suits. But I assume no one read it, because Bantam never published a Marvel book after this one.

If you can actually find a copy of this one for a price you're willing to pay. I recommend it. It was delightful and way more solid than I thought it was going to be.

Also, come on, you know you want to read about Captain America's acid trip.

#posts i actually wrote

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firstdegreefangirl · 3 years ago

Note

If you are open to Ted Lasso requests, then Roy Kent/Keeley Jones + sickfic and snuggles?

Oh, nonnie, this got WAY out of hand. But I had SO MUCH FUN writing it, so thank you! There's a lot going on at the beginning here, but I swear there are sickfic and snuggles under the break. I hope you like it!

Read the whole thing in one click HERE on ao3!

The morning gets off to a late start, right out of the gate. The team bus leaves late when they lose Nate again (this year they knew to check the luggage hold, but no one thought to look in the upstairs bathroom, where he was “looking for a little extra privacy, sorry”) and there’s more traffic than anyone could have predicted.

Altogether, it means that the team hardly makes it to Sheffield with time to drop their bags at the hotel before they’re due at the stadium for the game.

Roy tosses a duffel bag onto one of the double beds in the room he’s sharing with Ted tonight (not by choice; it turns out relegation means there’s not enough money in the team budget for all four coaches to have separate suites. Last away game, he and Nate had been roommates, but Ted has some big idea about everyone spending equal amounts of time together in the name of ‘equitable morale,’ and apparently coaching staff isn’t exempt.)

Really, he should have taken the job with SkySports.

At least then, he wouldn’t be pulling a furry green unicorn out of his bag and sitting it carefully by the pillows.

“Security object, Roy?” Ted points from across the room as Roy reaches for his phone. “Respect. No shame in a man seeking a little comfort from-”

“Fuck off,” he snaps, but there’s no real heat behind it. “Phoebe’s mad her mum wouldn’t let her come on a sleepover with the team this weekend. Asked me to bring Captain McKibbin along instead, the little idiot. I … promised to send pictures. As proof.”

“Hey, I get it. My boy’s done many a Flat Stanley in his day.” Clearly, Ted expects him to know what this means, so Roy nods if only to save himself the explanation. “Anyway, we’ve got to meet the fellas in the lobby, head over to the field – pitch.” A full year in, and Ted still struggles with the vernacular sometimes. It’d drive Roy nuts, if the guy hadn’t done so much to help him and his career. “Is, ah, will Captain McCarlson be joining us for the-”

“McKibbin. Captain McKibbin, and he will not. Phoebe says he can stay here, to ward off any bad dream monsters.”

“Well you be sure to let her know that I intend to sleep snug as a bug in a rug tonight. No, two rugs!” Tim points at Roy with both hands, then spins around and opens the door to the hallway.

He still hasn’t gotten a chance to catch up with Keeley before the match starts. She and Rebecca had driven out separately – something about girl talk and lattes – but he knows she’s around somewhere. The owner’s box is a little different everywhere they go, but never too terribly hard to find, and he catches a glimpse of her bright pink peacoat when he looks around during the opening lineup. She's sitting between Rebecca and Higgins, and as soon as she notices him watching, she waves happily. He lifts a hand in response, then tucks it back against his chest, turning back to the pitch and squaring his shoulders as the first half begins.

Richmond is playing well; Isaac has stepped up and really filled Roy’s shoes as captain, and all the lads are on the same wavelength, without having to say much of anything to one another. He hates to admit it, but Roy wonders if the seamless communication doesn’t have something to do with the scavenger hunt they’d hosted in the locker room last night. Ted had blindfolded half of the players, and made the other half sit on the bench and shout directions. The whole thing had been a mess, but then they’d passed around the bottle of vodka he’d stashed behind the clean boots as a prize, and everyone had left smiling. If that’s it, Roy can’t deny the results, but he’ll damn sure try.

That’s what he’s thinking about a few minutes later when he turns around again, looking for Keeley in the stands. He’s always looking for her, when he doesn’t have to be watching every second of the match. She’s almost always watching him right back, before he’s even looking at her. And half the time, he’ll feel his phone vibrate in his pocket. Even if he can’t check it until halftime, he knows it’s a comment on the quality of the plays, or the other team’s kits, or how much she likes the view of his ass from the box.

But now, when he looks, he can’t find her anywhere. He looks again, trying to pick her out in the sea of Richmond jerseys. Most of the faces are strangers, but he can distinguish between them. All the way at the top, where Keeley had been sitting before, it’s just Rebecca and Higgins now, an empty seat folded up between them.

Roy stares for a moment, waiting for her to reappear with a soft pretzel or something. But she doesn’t. Eventually, Rebecca catches his eyeline, and shakes her head. Her lips move, but there’s no way Roy can make out the words. All he knows is that Keeley has disappeared, and judging from Rebecca’s gesture, she’s been gone for more than a few minutes.

Something isn’t right; he can feel it in his stomach. And in his knee, but that’s more from the impending winter. The feeling about Keeley, that sits deep in his gut, twisting and knotting around his organs as he turns back to the pitch.

The lads are lining up the next play, but Ted, Nate and Beard are spread out along the sideline. Roy sidesteps around Beard, almost trips over Nate when he moves back just as Roy passes behind him, and finally comes to a stop next to Ted.

"Coach?”

“What’s up, Roy?” Ted doesn’t turn toward him, but he leans in Roy’s direction, and he knows he’s got the man’s full attention.

He hears the announcer take notice of his new position, the commentary echoing around them.

On Richmond’s side of the field, former team member turned coach Roy Kent is vying for the attention of head coach Ted Lasso. The players are lined up; what could he be saying?

But Roy doesn’t say anything. He just points, arms still folded across his chest, until Ted looks up to the stands behind them.

Both coaches now, looking up at the audience. Surely they’re not surprised at the show of support for the Richmond Greyhounds? They’ve sold out almost every game since their relegation …

The rest of the announcement fades to the background when understanding spreads across Ted’s face. Roy knows he’s seen the empty seat, knows he’ll understand the concern Roy can’t put into words. He raises an eyebrow when Tim looks back to his face, and the other coach nods.

“Just be in the locker room for halftime, yeah? The guys are countin’ on you for a speech to hype them up for the rest of the game.”

Roy jerks his chin up and down, then heads for the tunnel that’ll take him out of view of the crowds. The announcer’s voice comes behind him again.

Coach Kent, now heading off of the pitch. Makes you wonder what’s going on for the Greyhounds. Have they sent a coach away in the middle of a match, or did he ask to be excused? And why? But gameplay continues without him …

It’s only a few steps before he’s in the locker room, trying to shake off the memory of the last time he’d left the pitch before a match was up. It’s empty, no signs of another occupant, but the solitude gives him an opportunity to fish his phone out of his pocket.

No texts, no missed calls. Right away, he dials Keeley’s number.

If you’re looking for the PR Manager for the Richmond Greyhounds, leave a message for Keeley Jones after the beep. If you’re trying to reach your best friend Keeley for a round of drinks, hang up and text me. Oh, and Rebecca? If it’s too long to text, I’ll check my emails soon. Kisses!

“Oi, it’s me,” Roy all but grunts into the speaker when Keeley’s voicemail recording is done. “You’re not in your seat. Not that you have to be, but Rebecca hadn’t seen you, and I didn’t …” he trails off, suddenly afraid of sounding clingy and controlling. “Anyway, call me when you get this.”

He stares at his home screen after he hangs up, a selfie Keeley had nabbed his phone to take. He’s got an arm wrapped around her shoulders and his lips pressed against her temple, and her face is scrunched up in laughter. It’s ridiculous, the first time anyone but a blood relative has ever been his background, but he can’t help smiling at it, even as the worry knots itself tighter in his stomach.

When he can’t stand it any longer, he texts Rebecca.

You seen her?

Her reply is almost instant.

Not since she left. I have her coat, phone is in the pocket. Heard it ring.

Well, shit. She doesn’t have her phone, and as far as Roy knows, nobody has any idea where his girlfriend is.

But then there’s a sniffle from inside one of the toilet stalls. He’d know that sound anywhere; it’s the same noise Keeley makes every time they watch a Disney film together, right before he teases her for crying and she pokes fun right back at how he’s not.

He’d peered under the doors when he walked in, checking for feet, but he knocks on the stall anyway.

“Keeley?” He calls, pushing the door open slowly. Sure enough, she’s inside, sitting with her feet tucked up onto the seat, head wedged between her knees and hands clamped tightly around the back of her skull. “Babe, what’s going on?”

“It’s so … it’s so loud out there,” she whispers, but doesn’t look up. “All the yelling and shouting and cheering. It’s a good thing, I know, that the fans are engaged, but it was just pounding on my brain, making my eyes go all spotty. I tried to stick it out, Roy, really; I know how much these games mean to you, to the whole team. But then I felt like I was going to vomit and-” Keeley chokes on a sob. “I couldn’t find anywhere else quiet to go.”

“Right, well come on,” Roy reaches out slowly and squeezes one of her shoulders. “There’s got to be somewhere better to sit than a men’s toilet stall. You’ve met the lads, they’re disgusting.”

Keeley chuckles, thick and teary, but drops her knees and lets Roy pull her to her feet. As soon as she’s standing, she wraps her arms around his waist and buries her face in his chest. It can’t be too comfortable; he hasn’t taken off the Richmond windbreaker he wears for every game, but Keeley relaxes when Roy doesn’t push her away. Instead, he locks his arms around her shoulders and walks them both slowly back until he can drop onto one of the benches. Keeley stays leaned against him, but brings one hand up to cover her eyes where the harsh lighting seeps in.

“Alright, now, what is it?” Roy asks, when Keeley hasn’t said anything for a while. “You seemed alright when we left this morning.”

“I was. Or, I thought I was anyway. Just a little tired, maybe, but that was all. It was fine until the car ride, but then I got really queasy, and my head started throbbing.” Roy reaches up to scratch his fingers gently through her hair and she sighs. “It got a little better when we got out of the car, but then it was just so-”

“Loud, I know,” he finishes for her, then they both fall silent.

Exhaustion. Nausea. Headache. His sister had those symptoms once, just shy of eight years ago.

Shit.

“Keel. You don’t think you’re … You – we – couldn’t be … you aren’t …"

“What?”

“Um, pregnant? I know we’re careful, but …" Keeley cuts him off with a laugh that turns into a whimper, and he tightens his hold on her.

“No. Definitely not. Not this week, for sure. Just a migraine, I think. Used to get them sometimes, but it’s been a bit.”

“Good,” Roy sighs. “I mean, someday, maybe, but not …”

“Not yet,” Keeley agrees, and something goes warm in his chest, knowing that they’re on the same page. Right now, they don’t need to worry about anything except getting Keeley back in fighting shape.

“Have you taken anything?” She nods against his chest.

“This morning, um, in the car. It didn’t help much. Just need it dark. And quiet.”

“OK, that’s alright,” Roy whispers, dropping his voice even quieter. “It should be almost half, what say we find somewhere else for you to hole up before everyone comes barging in like heathens?”

He’s not sure exactly where they can go, but he knows he’s got to get Keeley out of the locker room before they clear the players off the pitch. She shrugs half-heartedly, and lets Roy pull her back to her feet. He doesn’t have a plan yet, but he starts walking them slowly toward the door as he looks around. There are no offices in here, no treatment rooms or storage closets.

He hasn’t checked the time since he found Keeley, but he’s played enough years of football that his body’s internal clock can feel the seconds ticking away. There’s maybe two or three minutes left, and Ted wants him to give the halftime pep talk. If he asked, if he explained everything, he could probably get out of it, maybe trade Beard for next week or something. Keeley needs him.

But the team needs him too.

All at once, it hits him.

Rebecca.

Rebecca doesn’t have a role in the halftime routine. There’s nothing happening on the field and she almost never comes to the locker room before the match ends. And she’s got a car here; that’s somewhere quiet Keeley can sit, at least until the second half gets underway.

He wiggles his phone out of his pocket again and reopens the text thread.

Found her in locker room. Migraine. Can you meet us and take her outside for halftime? Ted wants me to give speech.

Rebecca doesn’t reply, but a minute or so later, Roy hears the steady click-clack of her heels coming down the hall. Keeley whimpers, and he presses a kiss to her hair as the door swings open.

“Hey,” he says, shifting around to look at Rebecca.

“Hello,” she whispers back.

“Hey, Keeley, Rebecca’s here now,” Roy tips his face back down to whisper against the shell of her ear. “Think you can make it outside with her?”

“We can head back to the hotel, Keeley, if you think that’d help? It’s only a few minutes’ drive.”

“Yeah, ‘s quieter there,” she says, but doesn’t move.

“And I’ll meet you there just as soon as the match is done, hmm?” He runs his fingers up and down her arm, shifting away slightly. “Here, want to take my sunglasses, block out some of the light?”

At that, Keeley squeezes her eyes shut and turns her face up toward Roy. He chuckles and slides his glasses over her eyes, then brushes a kiss to the tip of her nose.

“Alright then, off you go,” He lets Rebecca take her by the arm and lead her back out of the locker room, trying to ignore the way his heart clenches at the sight of her trudging away, hunched over against her own discomfort.

He’ll be back with her soon enough. But the door has no more than swung shut behind them when it bounces open again. Jamie and Sam are leading the pack, the whole team piling in around him.

As usual, their energy is infectious, and Roy finds himself slapping hands and patting backs as he makes his way across the room to where Ted is bringing up the rear.

“Hey, Roy, you get everything all squared away?”

“For now. Rebecca’s taking Keeley back to the hotel; she’s not feeling well.” He should have known better than to hope that Ted Lasso would ever let anything drop with a simple explanation.

“Well that’d explain the text message I got from Boss Lady asking if she’d be alright rooming with me tonight.” Roy’s eyebrows go up at that. “And I’m guessin’ from the look on your face that she didn’t mention anything about that to you? Aw, geez, I hope I didn’t spoil a surprise or anything. But the cat’s out of the metaphorical bag now, isn’t it? So I might as well tell you that I told her that I was a-OK with switching up the room arrangements if that’s what’s best for everyone tonight. Thataways you can keep an eye on Keeley, and down the hall we can have Biscuits with the Boss: Evening Edition. How’s that sit with you?”

“Honestly, Ted, I have no opinion on what time of day you eat biscuits,” Roy sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. “But thanks. I think. For making sure I can be there for Keeley.”

“We’re all on the same team here, right? What’s good for the goose and all that, we’re at our best when everyone is at their own, individual best. Hey, speaking of, there are some guys in here, waiting for someone to put a little extra pep in their step for the back end of this game. If you’re not up for it, I can see what Coach Beard has up his sleeve, or-”

“No, it’s fine,” Roy cuts him off before the rambling can reach full speed again. “I’ve got this one.”

He turns back to the group, and yells for everyone to listen up. When he’s got their attention, he takes a deep breath.

“What you’re doing on the pitch today, it’s fucking amazing,” he starts. “Not the score, though that’s pretty alright too. But that doesn’t matter half as much as how you’re playing. Hell, you assholes keep communicating this well, you’re going to put us coaches out of a job. I know Ted’s all about the rhymes and anecdotes and shit, but that’s not … I’m not a walking greeting card store,” everyone chuckles, Ted included. “But get back out there, keep working together, and dammit, make the four of us redundant!”

There’s a round of half-sarcastic applause, then Ted steps forward.

“Alright, y’all heard the man. Don’t get tired, get us fire—well, actually, don’t get us fired. That’s not … take the sentiment of what Roy said, but do me a favor and don’t take him literally. I like working with y’all. Anyway, Coach Beard’s gonna take it from here, walk y’all through a couple plays for the second half.”

The players cluster around Beard and his whiteboard diagram, and Ted finds his way back over to Roy at the back of the group.

“You know, if you need to head out a little early today, we can pull through without you. Sometimes a team is strongest when it’s split up to work on all the different things it needs to get done. Like taking care of each other.”

Any other day, he likes to think he’d insist on staying for the rest of the match. But if he’s honest with himself, he knows that he’ll put Keeley first anytime she needs him to.

“That’d be great, Ted. Thanks.”

“Hey, no problem, Roy. I’ll come check up on y’all when we get back?” Roy nods and shakes Ted’s hand quickly, then slips out of the locker room while Beard is saying something about the Sheffield players having “lots of power, like a high-watt light bulb.”

He doesn’t have a car, doesn’t feel like waiting on an Uber, so it’s a half-hour's walk back to the hotel. When he gets there, Rebecca is already waiting for him in the lobby.

“Ted gave me your room number,” she starts, as soon as they’ve said their hellos. “Keeley’s up there lying down. I, uh, I assumed yours was the bed with the unicorn on it?”

“It’s Phoebe’s,” he groans. “But yes.”

“I’m sure.” But she’s smirking like she might not be. “Anyway, Ted’s things are already taken care of, and I think I got everything of Keeley’s into your room, but she unpacked her entire suitcase first thing, so I might’ve missed some shoes or something.”

“No problem. She’ll get them back, I’m sure. Thanks for taking care of her.”

“Anytime, Roy. Really. I’m just down the hall, if either of you need anything.”

Roy nods his thanks and steps into the elevator.

He swipes his key card to unlock the door, then turns the handle and pushes it open slowly. The lights are turned off, and the curtains drawn, so he makes his way carefully, trying to remember if these rooms have any wayward furniture for him to stumble over.

Thankfully, the walkway is clear. He sits gently on the edge of his bed, smiling when the Keeley-shaped lump of covers shifts closer to him.

“Hey, babe,” she mutters.

“Hi,” Roy presses his lips together and pats what he thinks is probably her knee through the blankets. “Feeling better?”

“A little. Rebecca gave me water. And it’s quiet here.”

“Yeah, it is.” He’s not sure what else to say, but Keeley saves him from having to carry on the conversation.

“There’s a unicorn on your bed. ‘S soft.”

“His name is Captain McKibbin,” Roy replies, rolling his eyes even though he knows she can’t see from here. “I’ll tell Phoebe you like him.”

“Please do.”

“Anything else you need?”

“Just you,” she says, and it’s so quietly honest that if Roy weren’t already pretty sure he’s in love with her, it would have sealed the deal. He toes his shoes off and shimmies out of his windbreaker and trousers.

“Alright, well shove over then,” he teases, nudging her shoulder until there’s room for him to lie down beside her. When he pulls the covers back, he recognizes the hoodie she’s wearing as the one he’d crammed into the top of his bag when he packed last night. It’s three sizes too big, and she’s got one of her own just like it, but she looks far better in Roy’s than he ever will.

As soon as he’s lying down, Keeley is turning over and fitting herself against his side, tucking her face back into his bare chest. It’s still early in the evening, and Roy knows that if he falls asleep now, he’ll spend all week regretting it. But Keeley needs the rest, and there’s not much he can do without turning on the TV or lighting up his phone screen.

Besides, one afternoon nap never killed anyone, right?

So he closes his eyes and listens to her steady breathing. When Keeley wakes up, hopefully the worst of the migraine will have passed, and she’ll feel more like herself again. Roy knows they’ve got a pass on team bonding tonight, if they need it, and he doesn’t want to push Keeley into anything she’s not up for. But rumor has it that Beard found a pub with a bowling alley in it, and that’s bound to be entertaining, no matter the scores at the end of the night.

For right now, though, the only thing that matters is Keeley, curled up against him and warmer than all the blankets stacked on top of them. She’s asleep, and he’s following close behind, and nothing matters beyond the comfort they share.

Not migraines, or bowling, or trick plays, or shoes that might have been left down the hall, or anything but Roy and Keeley and this moment together, in the dark and the quiet.

Just them.

#thanks for the ask!#katie writes #anon love #ted lasso #roy x keeley #roy kent #keeley jones #phoebe #rebecca welton #kw21 #prompt fill #requested #just them

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judediangelo75 · 4 years ago

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Unpopular Opinion: A Selfish MC

Honestly, mainly my mutuals read my posts and I appreciate the likes and occasional reblog so here’s another unpopular opinion.

There’s a lot I can say here. So here it is:

MC should be more selfish.

Because really think about it here.

They came into this school with almost everyone expecting the worse of them because of their brother.

They’ve been targeted by a girl who looked like she felt threatened by us when they came here trying to mind our business.

Been breaking curses from the age of 12, even though the adults were telling us not to (and what have they been doing to stop these curses?).

They found the opportunity to find missing their brother and made it our goal to find him. FOR YEARS.

In the midst of this quest, we were still trying to enjoy the life of a student. Make friends, play Gobstones, go out for a Butterbeer, maybe date someone, learn magic...

They deal with their friend’s issues. Not saying this is completely bad. But again think about it: MC helps other people deal with their issues, but who really asks them about how they feel about EVERYTHING they’re going through. I’ll wait.

While I can’t really recall from the previous years, the one person who did was Bill before he graduated from Hogwarts in our fifth year. When MC was trying to cheer him up about graduating.

When he asked them about how they’re feeling, MC quickly deflected the issue.

Mind you, I can relate to this in real life. My feelings, thoughts and emotions would be on the back burner while I help others. And if our MC was able to truly project EMOTION, if s/he was force to confront how they really feel, it might be extreme. So they deflect the issue.

Especially after what happened in 5th year. Even AFTER what happened in the vault, our MC is still worrying about others and they are just rejecting us to our face as if we’re not already hurt.

Again think about it:

We’re rejected by Merula after all that’s happened, so for those who thought we’ll finally be friends with her, JC said “Sike, you thought.” Then goes on to say that she doesn’t need us.

“I told you I don’t need you, L/N...”

“And I still don’t.”

Ben, whose on a manhunt for Sickleworth, makes a comment implying that we’re obsessed with finding our brother.

MC: Why does my brother-- I mean the Niffler--keep disappearing on us?

Ben: And you think I’m the one obsessed, Y/N?

I’m not gonna lie, I was hot for a good second. For crying out loud, he LEFT us. All of them saw him leave.

Depending on what year your MC was born, they would’ve been 8 or 9 when he disappeared. By the time you find him, they would be 15 or 16. THAT’S SEVEN WHOLE YEARS!

SEVEN YEARS THAT THEY WILL NEVER GET BACK. ALMOST 5 OF WHICH THEY SPENT TRYING TO FIND HIM! All of that for him to LEAVE???

When the whole reason why they dealt with the Curse Vaults was to find him!

Bro, in my eyes, MC is justified to feel this way. I don’t see it as an obsession, I see it was genuine hurt.

They were legit abandoned just after a short reunion. With no way to contact him until later in 6th year.

Depending on if you have a headcanon for your character in the game. Like their family dynamic, personality, attitudes and such: this may hurt WAY WORSE.

For example, my MC lost her dad just weeks after her brother disappeared. She has no real relationship with her mother, who favors her brother over her. Her and her brother were close when he was around. After her father died, she promised over his grave that she’ll find out what happened to him and hopefully bring him home. Then this shit happens.

She would’ve been heartbroken. To hear Ben say that would’ve pissed her off for a few seconds before trying to cool down.

Then 6th year rolls around and our MC is dealing with everyone’s BS and not their one.

Don’t get me started on Merula returning to her old ways and how Ben took on a new identity (personally, I don’t like new Ben. That’s the type of attitude that will cause you to misstep and get your ass seriously injured or killed), Penny and Beatrice’s sibling feud AND ANOTHER CURSE.

Again if I were to write my character how I want to, she would’ve cared way less. Even those with a ton of patience, lose it.

I mean honestly how much shit does our character how to experience before they rightfully explode?

Like seriously. I’ve seen a scene where we have to duel our brother and then he leaves us (again). And Merula says this:

“You can’t seem to hold onto anyone anymore, can you, L/N?

GET. THE. FUCK. OUT OF HERE!

Yo, you can not tell me any different: That was fucked up to say. EXTREMELY FUCKED UP!

And she’s laughing as if this was joke. This is far from funny.

And yet our MC is still trying to reach out to her. WHY

Like at this point, let everyone do whatever they want. Let them fix their issues. Let them deal with their own problems how they choose to.

I much rather hang out with Rowan, Tonks, Barnaby, Andre (worse headache he could give me is my outfit choices), Charlie, Jae, Badeea (let me spend more time with this art queen, c’mon!), Liz, Diego (I’ll take his flirtations ANY DAY), Talbott (Let me spend more time with my husband), Chiara (my Healer sister for life) Fred, George and Cedric (Let me spend time with the cinnamon roll!).

Like every other unproblematic character in the game currently. I’ll even take Professor Snape and his sarcasm (that I grew to love).

My headcanon is that Judith would hide out in the Dark Forest in the Creature Forest or go to the Centaur Camp to get away from the unnecessary stressors at Hogwarts.

I don’t care if it looks like MC is “abandoning Hogwarts” when a curse is out on the loose.

MC didn’t really ask to be a Curse Breaker (if you decided that’s not a career they would take).

MC didn’t ask to be the protector of Hogwarts since they were 12 years old.

They aren’t getting any real thanks for anything that they do.

They can’t be a normal student. Even if they wanted to, everyone would probably be like “Why would you want to give up what you’re doing?”

I honestly wish we could be more selfish. I will never forget the outburst Rowan had in 5th year when they said we only call them or hang out with them when MC needs something.

THEY WEREN’T WRONG! We don’t hang out with our friends just to hang out. It’s always MC needs something or we’re helping a friend in the storyline. We don’t just chill to have fun like a normal student.

Which is bloody sad.

And MC has been told how they really haven’t been taking care of themselves.

For example, Hagrid in Year 4:

“If yeh say so, but I wish yeh’d take care of yerself as much as yeh take care o’ everyone else...”

Or even Dumbledore:

“I am concerned that you are neglecting your own well-being and needs.”

Like it’s literally right there, folks. Right. There.

Exposed. In only two lines.

I know Jam City will never let MC be selfish, even it was for a few chapters. But I wish they did.

This is why we create fandoms and our own headcanons.

Anyways, thank you for coming to my TED Talk.

#hphm #hphm rant #hphm mc #hphm jacobs sibling #jacob's sibling #jacob's sister #jacob's brother #rant post #mc deserves better #they're allowed to be selfish #even if it's just a little #i said what i said #with my whole chest #and i meant what i said #probably unpopular #unpopular thoughts #unpopular opinion

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st4r-c0d3 · 4 years ago

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im really starting to hate the mha manga (not really spoilers but read on at your own risk)

BC OF THE DEVELOPMENT OF BAKUGO AND DEKU

LIKE YEAH I WANT THEM TO FIX THEIR FRIENDSHIP AND SHIT

BUT ITS REALLY STARTING TO MAKE AN ASS LOAD MORE SENSE OF WHY PEOPLE SHIP BAKUDEKU

(the rest of this post is just me raging about bakudeku cause its two in morning)

LIKE???

IVE ALWAYS UNDERSTOOD WHERE THE BAKUDEKU SHIPPERS (the logical ones) WERE COMING FROM

BUT IT PAINS ME IN A WAY THAT I UNDERSTAND IT MORE

LIKE I HAVE A BURNING HATRED FOR BAKUDEKU

I STILL FUCKING DO

PROBABLY ALWAYS WILL

I LIKE THEIR GROWTH BC THEIR BROTHERLY BOND AND FRIENDSHIP IS MY EVERYTHING

BUT LIKE I JUST HATE IT ROMANTICALLY

IT JUST MAKES ME UNCOMFORTABLE

AND IT JUST FEELS WRONG

IT FEELS SO FUCKING WRONG FOR SOME REASON

LIKE I GET ENEMIES TO LOVERS

NOWHERE NEAR MY FAVORITE TROPE BUT IT DOESNT SUCK IG

BUT ON THEIR LEVEL ITS NOT EVEN ENEMIES TO LOVERS

LIKE DEKU NEVER SAW BAKUGO AS HIS ENEMY

SO IT CANT BE ENEMIES TO LOVERS

BUT LIKE TROPE ASIDE

I FEEL LIKE THEIR PERSONALITIES DONT FUCKING WORK TOGETHER

I GET KIRIBAKU

BC EVEN THOUGH KIRISHIMA IS CONSIDERED A SUNSHINE CHILD

THIS MF IS VIOLENT TOO

JUST SPRINKLE IN INSECURITY AND MANIC PANIC HAIR DYE

BC KIRISHIMA DOESNT PUT BAKUGO ON AN UNREACHABLE PEDESTAL

LIKE HE JUST CARES ABOUT HIM

AND BAKUGO IS A LITERAL TSUNDERE

I GET BAKUKAMI

BC EVEN THOUGH KAMI IS ALSO CONSIDERED A SUNSHINE CHILD

HE'S NOT THE SAME "innocent uwu baby" SOME PEOPLE MAKE DEKU INTO

DENKI HAS MORE OF A LOUD PERSONALITY

HE REALLY SAID "take Kirishima but bass boost the confidence and lose the urge to shed blood"

LIKE COME ON NOW

HE WORKS WITH BAKUGO BC HE IS JUST AS ENERGETIC AND LOUD

ALSO BC HE SIMPLY JUST GETS ALONG WITH ANYONE AND EVERYONE

SHIT I CAN SEE BAKUSERO

BECAUSE SERO IS MAKES FUN OF THE FUCKER

THEY JUST MESH WELL IN THE WAY SERO WOULD BE HIS ENTIRE VOICE OF REASON

SERO IS CHILL WHILE BAKUGO IS AGGRESSIVE AS FUCK

IT JUST WORKS

BAKUIIDA WORKS TOO

BC IT JUST DOES

THEY BOTH LOVE RULES

BOTH ARE LOUD

THEY LOOK CUTE TOGETHER AND I THINK THEIR PERSONALITIES COMPLIMENT EACH OTHER PERFECTLY

PLS SHINBAKU WORKS

TWO ASSHOLES???

A QUIET ONE AND A LOUD ONE

THATS JUST HOW IT IS

THEY COMPLIMENT EACH OTHER WELL

IT JUST WORKS

BUT BAKUDEK????

ITS LIKE COMPLETE OPPOSITES

AND IN THIS CASE ITS NOT GOOD

CAUSE WHEN IT COMES TO BAKUGO SHIPS??

I DONT THINK COMPLETE OPPOSITES WORK

WHEN I THINK OF A GOOD BAKUGO SHIP I THINK OF SOMETHING WHERE THE OTHER PERSON IS EITHER REALLY SIMILAR OR HAS AT LEAST ONE CORE TRAIT THAT'S SIMILAR

LIKE BAKUYAMA FOR INSTANCE

BOTH ARE KINDA NARCISSISTIC

NOT A LOT

BUT ITS A CORE TRAIT THEY BOTH HAVE THAT WORKS

AND NO MATTER HOW HARD I TRY TO THINK OF A SUPER CORE TRAIT THAT BAKUGO AND DEKU BOTH POSSESS I DRAW A BLANK

SURE THEY BOTH WANNA BE HEROS BUT BAKUGO WANTS TO BE TE BEST AND DEKU JUST WANTS TO HELP PEOPLE

I REALLY CANT FIND A WAY TO MESH THEM

LIKE IT JUST DOESNT WORK TO ME

AND IT BOTHERS ME THAT CANON INTERACTION WISE IT MAKES SENSE

BUT CANON PERSONALITY WISE I FUCKING HATE IT

BC WHEN IT COMES TO MHA SHIPS MY MAIN THING IS HOW WELL I THINK THEY COULD WORK IF IT HAPPENED LIKE STRANGERS TO LOVERS

PERSONALITY FIRST

CANON INTERACTION NEXT

AND HOW MUCH I THINK IT WORKS LAST

anyways thank you for coming to my Ted Talk

#mha #bakudeku but its just me complaining about it #mentioned other bakugo ships #but id rather talk about how Sero is slowly but surely getting more attention in the manga #like #get it tape boy #fucking love him #bakugo #deku #i need to sleep ive been typing this for fifteen minutes #i hope nobody reads this all the way through cause i can guarantee it makes like no sense #random rant go brrr

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zet-sway · 4 years ago

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@the-wip-project day 34:

Do you prefer to write fluff or angst?

Fluff. I used to write more angst but then I lost a bunch of people and now I don't want to write angsty shit anymore.

Personal rambling and whatever below.

Content warning: emotional abuse, cancer, surgery, deaths in the family.

When I came back to tumblr I learned about something called "whump" style fanfic in which the writer imposes circumstances they're struggling with on to their characters in order to process them. I think this is great, and in fact I used to do it.

I had this idea when I arrived at writing again that I was going to write one of these, but it was going to be horrible.

!!! Content warning starts here !!!

I've sorta posted about this before, but I lost someone important to me. They didn't die. I was forced to remove them from my life because they refused to respect my boundaries. I'm still nervous posting about it because my tumblr is a public thing and for all I know, that person reads it every day - in fact that's one of the reasons I was off tumblr for so long.

It was such an intense betrayal. They lied about so many things. I can't express how deeply I cared about this person, there really are no words. It took years to move past the grief. I'm NOT trying to imply my grief is any worse than anyone else's, if anything - I had it easy. But I know a lot of abuse survivors say this kind of thing so I try to accept that my grief is valid in its own right.

I was going to write a fanfic about it, about Thane and Shepard, that ends with her betrayal of his boundaries, and his difficulty rationalizing that he loves her, but she's hurting him, and there is nothing left to fight for between them. That awful moment when you realize things can't be salvaged no matter how hard you try, and you're about to lose someone you desperately don't want to lose. I figured this would take the form of Shepard telling him never to speak of Irikah again, and other insults to his marriage. Because - that's what happened to me.

Anyway here's some of what I had to listen to:

"It's not you my death wishes are for, it's for him." (about my husband).

"Change your fucking disgusting FB profile picture or I'm never talking to you again (a photo of me and my husband). I can't believe you would show the face of a monster next to yours."

"If you take his name, I will never speak to you again."

"If you have children with him, I will never speak to you again."

"I don't understand why you need to spend the day with random people's moms." (It was mother's day, I was visiting my mother-in law.)

There were other abuses, too. I don't really want to continue talking about them, though. Because they somehow were worse (self harm) and I didn't even want to include them in my fic.

Anyway I was chewing on this idea for a while and I decided it wasn't fucking worth it. In order to write something angsty, I have to reach inside myself to pull that angst out. I have to search for those feelings. They're in there, I know where they live, I can grab them if I want to - and I don't fucking want to. This shit happened four years ago. I've moved on substantially. I am still angry and hurt but I've experienced so much of this pain, and I don't desire to live with it anymore.

That's why I'm curing Thane. I'll write about other forms of angst. I'll write about Shepard's difficulty with their resurrection, I'll write about Kolyat's struggle to accept his father back into his life. Whatever. But I have no desire to write about loss right now. Every night I lay in bed and hug my husband, trying to chase the fear from my mind that everything could be taken from us in a split second.

Immediately after I removed my abuser from my life, my brother-in-law was diagnosed with an extremely rare type of tumor. I'm actually not certain if it's cancerous or not, all I can say is this kind of tumor does not spread throughout the body but it's known to be very stubborn and slow growing, with a high rate of recurrence. But we didn't know this at the time of diagnosis. All we knew was he had a mass the size of a fucking cantaloupe over his lung in the x-ray, and you don't need to be a doctor to understand the bad news when you see an x-ray like that. In the beginning they gave him such a horrible prognosis. It was a terrible time for our family. Then later they revised the diagnosis but there was still the issue of removal. He had open thoracic surgery, he was in the ICU for two weeks, he had to be defibbed, put on a breathing tube (not a ventilator), and he came to live with us for months after. TLDR the tumor cannot be fully removed due to risk of mobility complications. He will be dealing with this for the rest of his life.

And then because that wasn't enough, my father-in-law had a series of strokes that robbed him of nearly all of his mobility. He passed away during the pandemic, and my mother-in-law was not far behind. We found out she had lung cancer, and didn't tell anyone. She was also struggling with advancing dementia. I sincerely hope none of my followers need to endure explaining the death of a husband to a grieving widow with dementia. Truly I don't wish this on my worst enemy.

I don't blame my abuser for this, but I think often of their threats against my husband, and I want them to know about these terrible moments for our family. I want this person to quiver in guilt and regret for ever wishing harm upon us. And then I want to scrub myself of my abuser's memory forever.

I did not write this post to seek condolences. I wrote this because I wanted to get it off my chest. Releasing it into the void feels better than explaining it to someone's face. We are all dealing with grief in our lives, please believe me when I tell you we are dealing, and we are getting the support we need.

For my sake, please do not reblog.

Anyway that's why I want to write fluff. I'm gonna take a shower and think about my latest smutty WIP. Thank you for coming to my ted talk.

#zet vs 100days #cw emotional abuse #cw family death #cw cancer #cw surgery

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primonizuto · 4 years ago

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!!!very important question for you —

What’s this murderous trash cat’s birthday and by extension horoscope?!

I’m sensing a Gemini because murder,,, but that Aries energy strong too with this one too

ok so i literally dont know shit about horoscopes so i asked my friend meg who DOES know about these things and she gave me this incredible answer:

i'm thinking Virgo, Taurus, or Capricorn, but leaning toward virgo

all of them make good entrepreneurs bc they are very, very good at seeing things through (all have different levels of stubbornness: virgo is practical, taurus is stubborn, capricorn is a perfectionist)

taurus likes to possess things and put their name on stuff. i lean away from that bc i don't think primo cares much about Possessions to signify wealth or power, I think he cares more about the statement made by actions or progress. like he bought expensive liquor -- and then shared it. he got the money, and then threw it around.

capricorn is disciplined and responsible at best, highly critical at worst, and unforgiving. i lean away from this bc i don't think primo is completely wrapped up in himself, the way salvatore is

now Virgo, on the other hand, is known for being a people-person sign, a good caretaker. you might read that and think LMAO WHAT but the idea here is that you take the details about a sign and then add darkness. Primo wants to take care of his people, his place of origin, his future and his family.

Virgos can be nitpicky and overly critical. Primo gets help from other people but expects them to do right the first time, and doesn't tolerate mistakes. He wants to be in charge bc he knows he can make sure things get done right, but he doesn't want the crown for the sake of the crown (like Salvatore)

they don't LIKE asking for help, but they are all about taking care of things at heart, so. sometimes you gotta. they don't like chaos, but when they have to give in to it, they never lose sight of their ultimate goals

anyway, all three of them are earth signs, and i think primo's ambition shows a strong grounding - even with him being an absolute dangerous psycho, because it's very calculated. he doesn't kill just because GOTTA KILL GOTTA DO CRIME, he kills bc someone fucked up his plans and that can't happen.

also here's an interesting addition from this website that I just pulled up: "Virgo – the Disappointed Goddess Seeking goodness in humankind is the story of Virgo, and disappointment seems to be inevitable from their point of view. The first time they came from their cloud and jumped onto planet Earth, it felt like their mission is to use their existence for good, discovering ways of justice and purity in other people. Once they fail to find it too many times, Virgos will pull away, get lost, turn to substance abuse, or simply separate from other people to sit on the bench, criticize and judge."

not to say that Primo started out seeking purity in its strictest sense. He probably sought "purity" in the sense of bringing his people up out of the mud, bringing them wealth and metaphorical cleanliness out of the illusion of being nothing more than dirty goatherds (Primo is always dressed well compared to everyone else in their dusty clothes) but then he probably got his hand slapped too many times and had to sink back and withdraw, and bide his time, while nursing the disappointment/injustice with cocaine.

and that's why i think Primo McTrust is a Virgo thanks for coming to my ted talk

#trust fx #primo nizzuto #MUCH TO THINK ABOUT. IM SHOOK #anonymous #what is my ask tag!!!

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komabaichirouu · 4 years ago

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Why Yuugo Hachiken and Aki Mikage are powerful neurodivergent cuties

Alternatively, "Zel rambles about Silver Spoon and showcases how much of a kinnie he is instead of doing his physics homework".

Anywayssss

As said in an earlier post I have receipts and I now will deliver them >:)

Starting with my precious boi, Yuugo Hachiken ~

Pic unrelated to the argument, I just think he looks neat.

Anyway, honestly my basis for this is mostly me self-projecting onto him. I'm starting with him because I have like One piece of evidence to go through before I get to Mikage.

SO during the horseback riding competition Hachiken is a nervous mess. But he doesn't want to lose, so he tries his best to focus.

Then he drops this fucking line:

Holy shit I wanna scream.

Blaming yourself for not being able to focus properly even after forcing yourseld to for years ? Hyperfocusing on one task for hours to the point where you completely forget your surroundings ? Being completed exhausted after that hyperfocused mood fades away to the point of passing out ? Having your anxiety essentially be your only drive to keep working your ass off ?

Hello?? That's me ??? That's my ADHD symptoms ???? That Is No Neurotypical Behaviour.

EDIT: ANOTHER POINT I COMPLETELY FORGOT TO ADD.

ADHDers tend to become people pleasers as a coping mechanisms.

Guess what Hachiken is ?

The guy who worked his ass off in middle school to keep meeting his dad's expectations concerning his grades ? The guy who literally ran away from his home to avoid dealing with the frustration of failing that goal ?

The fucking protag whose whole character arc is based on the fact that he has absolutely no fucking idea of what he will do in the future because he was so focused on pleasing his parents this whole time ???

HELLOOOOOO????

SO YEAH Hachiken has ADHD for this because I am a filthy kinnie.

Aight now that I'm done talking about him here comes the one I wanted to talk about in depth for a few months now, Aki Mikage 💞

She is 100% autistic and I actually have more than 1 pic to show this.

Okay so first of all her interest in horses definitely goes beyond Neurotypical Interest territory. Even Hachiken point this out. This bitch hyperfixated.

Look at the way she lights up when Ayame mentions liking horses???? She's so cute what the FUCK—

Ok anyways that's a big mood I make this exact face whenever I meet another Silver Spoon stan.

I don't have pictures for this BUT she started being interested in studying history only when Hachiken found ways to tie it all back to horses somehow, and once again that's a big mood. I keep forcing myself to do this otherwise I completely lose interest lmao.

ANYWAYS hyperfixations aside, it's made very clear that she can't read social cues at All. It's mostly just jokes about how she's oblivious to Hachiken's feelings but I still count that because I relate too.

I think this idea that a guy and a girl can't hang out as friends is kinda stupid but like, I kin Mikage and I'm not a normie cishet girl so, what would I know lmao

Anyway she very clearly states "I'm not good at stuff like that", AKA not good at reading between the lines. That's like Stereotypical Autism 101.

Anyway moving on from that, my next point I kinda talked about for a bit earlier is her bad grades.

Or rather the way she's literally deemed stupid by her family because of them, and she internalized that and ends up calling herself stupid too. (once again, no pics, but just fucking trust me I promise Im right)

I don't relate to that personally because I get good grades easily but like, once again that's a very common ND experience so I'm counting it.

Anyway yeah that's all I have to bring to the table.

TLDR; Yuugo Hachiken has ADHD and Aki Mikage is autistic because :

A) My ADHD/Autistic ass kins them to hell and back;

B) I fucking said so

Thank you all for coming to my TED Talk

#silver spoon #gin no saji #yuugo hachiken #hachiken yuugo #aki mikage #hiromu arakawa #adhd headcanon #autism headcanon #they are neurodivergent #neurodiverse character #because i said so

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absolute-flaming-trash-archive · 4 years ago

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I am about to go on a rant on why I hate technology in all its various forms.

Ignore if you don’t wish to read, but holy fuck follow me under the cut if you want since this is honestly a little funny.

So this bullshit starts off yesterday when I finally had the motivation to clean my nightmare of a Depression Kitchen. I’m thinking hey let’s listen to some music via my laptop so I don’t get ads.

I go to hook up my Bluetooth headphones only to find that I don’t have the option to turn my Bluetooth on or off anymore and I’m like

Kay

Thinking it’s just some update nonsense I restart my computer. Nothing.

Now I’m staring at my PC like some person out of the 1950′s because I am garbage when it comes to anything regarding technology

bUT RiRI yOU’Re 23

fUCKING SO WHAT

But anyways

Update my computer. Nothing. I go on the Windows website and look at all their vids regarding Bluetooth. Nothing helping, so by this time I’m like 2 hours in and have a headache and I just

Turns out that my Bluetooth somehow removed itself from my device manager. It no longer exists in the hardware and it would not reinstall itself when going through appropriate sites.

I ended up contacting Windows Help and had three people go “ayo what the fuck (professional). That’s when you know shit’s fucked.

So Tl;dr my laptop magically no longer has bluetooth and I need to either hard reset it or take it in. I’m just gonna suffer thank you.

But is this journey of hating technology over? Not even close.

Short version for background on this added part is my mother needed a ride home because the brakes on her car were making weird noises and she didn’t want to drive it. I’m like sure, fair enough, please don’t drive it.

She calls roadside assistance and they come get her car. I’m getting ready to drive her home, and we get into my car.

It doesn’t. Fucking. Start.

At this point I’m sitting in the drivers seat like

asking myself why I bother existing.

None of my friends are around to give me a jumpstart so I also call roadside assistance. When I tell the lady on the line my address she makes a comment on Deja vu and the address sounding really familiar.

When I told her why she full on started laughing. I laughed too, but mostly out of the need to Not Lose My Shit.

The dude who came by was fantastically awkward gentleman who told me my battery was completely dead and needed to be replaced.

Now I’m just standing there wondering how I’m going to pull $250 out of my ass for a whole new battery and they dude is like “if you want I can replace it here so you don’t have to take it to a shop”

Small miracles.

Dude replaces it. I become $250 lighter. I drop my mother off at home and things are semi-alright with the world.

I get back home and think okay let’s write a little bit and listen to some music to take our mind off of this

and I go to hook up my headphones again

only to remembER THEY WON’T WORK

Awesome

If you made it this far thank you for coming to my TED talk

I hate it here.

#riri rants #holy fuck #I am having a time

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lizardkingeliot · 4 years ago

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First Line Meme

Rules: List the first lines of your last 20 stories (if you have less than 20, just list them all). See if there are any patterns. Choose your favorite opening line, then tag 10 of your favorite authors!

tagged by @phoenix-ascended thank you!!!! 💖

Okay SO. I’m gonna cheat a little bit here. The first nine I’m going to post are all going to be from the first nine chapters of time cast a spell on you (but you won’t forget me) but to be fair the chapters are so long they each might as well be a story all their own lmao. ANYWAY. Here we go. I’ll post the first paragraph from each I guess, in order of chapter number obvs:

1. Quentin shook out the tension in his hands. He didn’t understand why it wasn’t getting any easier. For days on end he’d been trying to perfect the illumination spell the rest of his fellow First Years had nailed in a matter of hours. But no matter how he tried, Quentin couldn’t seem to make anything more than a spark.

2. Quentin waited until Eliot was asleep to slip out of bed and hastily tug his clothes back on. The illuminated screen of his phone told him it was just past 12am. Clutching his shoes to his chest, he opened the door as quietly as he could manage and tip-toed out into the hall, all but running to his room and clicking the lock shut firmly behind him.

3. Dry-mouthed and groggy, Quentin woke in Eliot’s bed alone. He groaned, groping around for his phone to check the time for a long moment before remembering he’d left it in his room. Quentin rubbed at his eyes, rolling over and up to his feet, muscles he didn’t even know existed screaming as he went. He picked his bathrobe up from the floor and pulled it on, then tottered down the hall to empty his bladder and brush his teeth and gulp down frantic handfuls of water from the bathroom sink.

4. Tuesday morning was hell. Quentin woke just before eleven, empty as a husk. Filthy, all used up. His thighs sticking together where Eliot’s come had dried there in the night. Quickly realizing he’d already missed his first class of the day, Quentin pressed his face into his pillow, pulled the covers up over his head, and surrendered to the blank comfort of late morning sleep.

5. Quentin couldn’t feel his face, or much of his body for that matter. Which was… fine. It was great. It was fucking phenomenal. As long as it meant he also couldn’t feel the sinkhole that had formed in the center of his chest. The one that had been there for days, weeks, months, fucking years. He couldn’t feel anything at all.

6. Quentin felt a lever turn inside his chest, the source of his magic eking out a spark. Enough at least to send a message to Julia back at Brakebills. One of those little enchanted paper airplanes they’d learned his first week in Practical Applications that he never could get to fly quite right. He scrawled his SOS on a cocktail napkin and watched it flutter away like the world’s saddest butterfly. The universe took pity on him. Quentin figured he was probably due. 7. Christmas morning was a lackluster affair.

Exchanging gift cards over coffee and devouring great mounds of Ted Coldwater’s Famous Ham and Eggs while still in their pajamas. After, Julia and Quentin lay on the living room floor and Skyped with James, his grandparents waving hello from Pennsylvania in the background. They opened the stack of impersonal and overly-extravagant gifts from Julia’s mother that had been delivered to the house the night before. Quentin received a pair of cashmere socks and a leather belt with a shiny silver buckle.

8. Quentin stood at the bathroom sink, watching his face shift in the steamy mirror glass. Stark naked save for the towel looped around his hips. Hair dripping in cool, fat beads down onto the planks of his shoulders. So clean he swore he could feel himself sparkling from the inside out.

9. Quentin tossed his phone down onto the floor and leaned back into Eliot’s heat. “It’s almost like you want my dad to know I’m faking sick so I can stay in and let you fuck me until I pass out.”

Some patterns I guess: I love how chapters 2-4 all open with Quentin in bed after hooking up with eliot but all with very different vibes. In chapter 2, he’s just experienced subspace for the first time without having any idea that’s what actually happened to him and he is having A Time. In chapter 3, they had a very intense hook-up the night before and Quentin is sneaking out again, but this time he fully plans on returning right after. And in chapter 4, we see the joy of their beginnings at Columbia contrasted hard with the misery of where Quentin is at Brakebills.

ALSO 2/3 of the chapters begin with Quentin’s name which feels right considering just how deep into his headspace we are in this fic.

Okay. Anyway. Moving on:

10. Eliot loved watching Quentin lose himself in a moment.

It could be anything really: mastering a brand new spell; savoring something decadent and sweet; fussing with his hair when he thought no one was looking; focusing very hard on making himself a cocktail and getting the ratios just right; ranting about his Fillory books; reading his Fillory books, to himself but especially aloud; reading anything; riding dick...

That last one held a particularly special place in Eliot’s heart.

(from but i would die for you in secret aka the one where eliot is pretty sure quentin is only using him for his dick. spoiler alert: he’s not they’re just idiots)

11. Teddy was turning six years old. There was nothing in the world he loved more than stories.

His favorite was a version of Lord of the Rings Quentin had cobbled together from memory. He must have told it to their son a hundred times before it occurred to Eliot he could contribute more to story time than ogling Quentin’s hands while he spoke, or popping in to suggest when the Balrog should actually be making an appearance, Quentin.

(from in a land far away aka the mosaic fic where eliot makes margo hand puppets for teddy)

12. The words came out of Quentin’s mouth without a single coherent thought behind them.

“I’m just about to catch a movie with my boyfriend!”

There, outside the coffee shop on Eighth Avenue, Quentin’s maybe-friend from high school whose name he couldn’t even remember shot him a wide-mouthed grin. “Oh, that’s wonderful!” she said. “Which movie? My wife Danielle and I don’t have any plans for the afternoon and we’d love to tag along. Isn’t that right sweetie?”

(from your name like a song (i sing to myself) aka the one where quentin’s memory is shit and he and eliot pretend to be boyfriends in a post-monster world)

13. Eliot dropped the last box onto the floor. “Daddy’s wardrobe is safe at last,” he said, lowering himself down into the gold chair with a sigh. “Though I can’t seem to shake the terrible feeling that Todd raided my closet at the Cottage before I could get to it all.”

Quentin surveyed the damage from his spot on the sofa: there were at least seven large packing boxes bursting at their seams scattered around the penthouse. “I don’t know how you would even be able to tell. I’m pretty sure one of those boxes is just vests.”

Eliot quirked a brow in his direction. “Some of us are cultivating an aesthetic, Quentin,” he said. “And I didn’t see you complaining when I let you dress me for dinner last night.”

Quentin couldn’t help but smile. “I wouldn’t call picking between two pre-approved ties dressing you, El.”

“I’m also counting the fact that you said my ass looked great in my new pants.”

(from the parentheses (all clicking shut behind you) aka the suspender porn fic)

14. The night Quentin Coldwater died, a brand new star appeared in the sky over Brakebills. A little brighter than Venus, it stayed fixed in the same position for weeks on end. Eliot hardly would have noticed such a thing if it hadn’t been for the way that it hummed. Or at least, that’s how it felt. A humming in his bones. An old, familiar presence. Margo thought that he’d gone mad with grief. Alice was the only one who could understand.

(from a myth of devotion aka the one where eliot is sorta icarus and quentin is sorta the sun)

15. It didn’t happen the way Eliot expected it to. He dropped the letter into the mailbox, and pain blossomed in his abdomen so brightly it was like he’d gone supernova.

And everything went dark.

(from by night, beloved, tie your heart to mine aka the one where eliot sends the letter)

16. Eliot stretched out over the mosaic, his shirt riding up just a little as he clicked a yellow tile into place, and Quentin’s pulse leapt in his neck once, twice. Three times. His breath hitched. It was becoming nearly impossible to focus. In the heat of the sun, watching the sweat soak Eliot’s shirt clean-through.

(from i won’t deny (all the things i would do) aka the one where quentin and eliot start hooking up three months into their life at the mosaic)

17. After they decided kissing on the mouth was okay, Quentin and Eliot wanted to do it all the time. In every corner of the penthouse (“If you don’t stop sucking face while I’m trying to eat my sandwich,” Kady said one afternoon, “I’m literally going to feed you to the Baba Yaga.”), outside coffee shops, in between bites at the sushi place in Chelsea that Eliot loved. Once, they went to see a movie they couldn’t even remember the name of just to make out for two blissful, uninterrupted hours in the dark.

(from and a song of praise upon your lips aka part three of the box of chocolates series where quentin and eliot are definitely dating and finally talk about their feelings)

18. Eliot startled awake to something sharp and pointed slamming into his shin. He opened his eyes, and the toe of Margo’s shoe made contact one last time. Pain seared up the side of his leg, and he winced. Jesus, she really did not realize her own strength sometimes. Or the strength of her Jimmy Choo’s.

(from that you may know (the secrets of your heart) aka part two of box of chocolates aka the one where hand stuff is still banging)

19. Eliot Waugh was High King in his blood, and somehow that felt right. When they first arrived in Fillory, Quentin assumed he would be the one to wear the crown. He’d dreamed of it most of his life after all. On the throne in Whitespire, a fleet of talking animals at his disposal, a noble quest waiting around every corner to ferry him away to the next grand, heart-stopping adventure. But when the blade bit into his palm and drew no blood, and Eliot’s came up red, it felt like the final piece of some perfect puzzle clicking into place.

(from and this is the map of my heart aka the one where quentin wants to marry eliot and they have some incredibly filthy sex before everything falls apart)

20. Eliot walked into the penthouse to an eerie quiet. He found Quentin sitting in the kitchen under a dim illumination spell, drinking a beer and poking at the screen of his phone.

“Hey,” Eliot said, setting his shopping bag down on the counter. “Where is everyone?”

Quentin sighed, rubbing at his eyes. He looked like he hadn’t slept in days. “Out. I don’t know.”

Eliot squinted at him. “You didn’t want to go with them?”

Quentin lifted his eyes, shot Eliot a look. “No.”

(from for love (if it finds you worthy) aka part one of the box of chocolates series)

And I have now been here doing this for so long I no longer have time to try and find anymore patterns lmao BUT I will be tagging: @thelucindac @akisazame @fishfingersandscarves @nellie-elizabeth @freneticfloetry @rubickk7 and anyone else who wants to play!

#the magicians #queliot #otp: proof of concept #myfic

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