#as a kid he’s supposed to only have five and that’s only shown in that last doodle on the first page ahaha whoops
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
Text
haha what if i shared Wilson and Bree backstory shit
#ocs#original characters#character design#traditional#doodles#k’s art#sobs don’t mind the number of pinwheel blades on Wilson#I only figured out later that he should start with few and get more with every phase of his life#as a kid he’s supposed to only have five and that’s only shown in that last doodle on the first page ahaha whoops#… mother of god i love these two so god damn much
31 notes
·
View notes
Text
damned if i do (give a damn what people say)
It seems Steve Harrington is back off the market
The latest news on the pop star’s love life comes mere weeks after word of a fallout with longtime beau, journalist Nancy Wheeler. While neither party has confirmed the rumors, many of Harrington’s closest friends have hinted at the end of the relationship in interviews and on social media.
One thing everyone failed to mention, however, is that Harrington appears to have moved on and is now dating Corroded Coffin front-man, Eddie Munson.
The two have been friends for years, tracing as far back as the early 2010s, though it’s difficult to put a pin in exactly when they met. Neither are particularly vocal about their personal lives and often change the subject when the other comes up in an interview; a diversion tactic they’ve been playing for years.
Still, the alleged new couple has been spotted around some of Harrington’s favorite Manhattan hot spots several times over the past week.
The rockstar has a bit of an edgier vibe than Harrington’s usual flings; more outspoken and unpredictable than the ‘type’ Steve has typically shown an interest in; at least publicly.
Only time will tell if “Steddie” (so dubbed by the fans in support of the relationship) is true… and if they’ll last.
_____
“I can’t believe they think I’m dating Eddie,” Steve grumbled into the pillow on the floor of his hotel room. With a huff, he turned his head and looked off to the wall on the far side of the room. “I mean, it’s crazy that I can’t go out to dinner with anyone besides you and not be on a date.”
Robin leveled her foot to the center of his back, before shifting her weight onto it, then grinned in satisfaction as Steve groaned and his back popped loudly in several places. “It’s not like it’s that surprising. The tabloids went feral over you and Nancy breaking up after they were convinced you guys were already secretly married.” She shifted her weight back off him, dropping to sit cross-legged beside Steve. “Plus, it’s not that much of a stretch.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Steve asked, pushing himself up until he was sitting with his back against the wall, leg stretched out against Robin’s.
“It means you two have never looked at each other the way friends do. It makes sense that they’re picking that up.” Robin shrugged, brushing off her comment like it wasn’t shattering part of Steve’s bubble.
“We look at each other totally normally!”
The look Robin leveled Steve with had him pushing himself up off the floor and making his way toward the bathroom.
“I don’t have time for this right now, I need to start getting ready, but we don’t do anything normal friends wouldn’t because that’s what we are, Robin!”
“Are you trying to convince yourself of that, or me?” Robin asked and sighed heavily when Steve slammed the bathroom door closed in response.
It was only about five minutes before there was a familiar knock at the door; three in quick succession, followed by two after a short pause.
“I think we need to talk, sweetheart,” was understandable, despite being muffled by the door, before Steve was racing out of the bathroom to beat Robin to undoing the locks and letting Eddie in. “Why didn’t you tell me we’re dating?” Eddie asked through a pout, leaned against the doorframe.
Steve rolled his eyes and moved out of the way, letting Eddie follow him inside, before pointing at Robin. “See! Very much not dating!”
“Well,” Eddie started, teasingly, only to get hit in the face with a pillow from Steve’s bed. “I’m kidding, Steve. It’s not even a bad thing. I mean, they’re actually being really fucking cool about you being bisexual.”
“Being out as bi doesn’t mean that every person, regardless of their gender, is automatically my love interest just because I breathed near them.” Steve snapped, obviously frustrated despite Eddie’s attempts to ease the situation.
“Hey. Don’t get mean. You know what’s not what Eddie meant.” Robin responded. Steve looked back and forth between the two of them for a long moment, before he collapsed, face first, onto his mattress with a loud groan.
“C’mon, there’s no need to meltdown over this. If you want me to, I can post something about catching up with old friends to try to make it go away.” Eddie offered, gently, sitting down on the opposite side of the bed from Steve.
It took a long beat, but Steve eventually lifted his head from his pillows and shrugged. “I don’t want to make you do anything like that. It’s fine. It’ll all work out in the end. I'm just having a weird day, I guess.”
Eddie raised an eyebrow, and when Steve didn’t elaborate, he turned his head to Robin, who shrugged.
“Nancy texted him this morning asking to not talk about her at shows and he’s been in a sour mood about it since.”
“Robin!” Steve groaned, pressing his face back into his pillow miserably.
“Have you been, though?” Eddie asked, confused. “Talking about her, I mean? I thought I was doing a decent job at getting the highlights and I have no memory of you dropping anything profound about you and Nance on any crowds.”
“Not directly,” Steve spoke into his pillow, before turning his head and staring at the wall as he answered. “I made a few comments about my songs. How to get someone back. How to gaslight someone into thinking you love them before letting everything go at the drop of a hat for one of your best friends.”
A silence settled over the room for a moment, before Eddie burst into giggles, which set Robin off. Eventually Steve joined in, turning his attention to the two of them with a heavy sigh.
“I guess I was an asshole about it, huh?”
“I think it’s justifiable.” Eddie offered, to which Robin nodded in agreement as she started toying with Steve’s hair. “If you feel like you’re going to say something about Nancy, you could always say something to me instead. Really confuse the shit out of everyone.” He teased, but Steve beamed.
“Wait, that’s actually a great idea.”
Robin looked apprehensive, holding her hands in the air. “Steve, you remember you just freaked out about this, right? And now you’re going to play into it? Publicly?”
“It’ll be fun. I’m not gonna say anything directly about Eddie. But just. References. And then we can watch the fans lose their shit on TikTok later.” Steve reasoned with a grin, and Eddie smiled back at him.
“I promise to spend the entire show dancing my ass off and singing along. For the bit.” Eddie said, his hand over his heart.
“You do that anyway, you’re just usually backstage.” Robin pointed out, and Eddie rolled his eyes.
“Well, obviously, I have to join you and Dustin in the family tent tonight. Duh.”
“Yes!” Steve agreed with a laugh. “This is going to be so much fun!”
“You’re both psychotic.”
_____
“Indianapolis, you're making me feel awfully special tonight.” Steve bit at his lip as he looked around Lucas Oil Stadium to thousands of people screaming back at him. “This is as close to a hometown show as I really get these days, so thank you for always making sure to remind me how special of a place home is.”
The music started to pick up again, but Steve kept talking. “I kind of spent the last few years coasting by without anyone paying too much attention, but now that I’m back on the road, everyone’s suddenly deeply invested in my life, and it's strange to be back so close to somewhere I called home for so long, in the same position I was in five years ago.” He ran his fingers through his hair, before huffing out a laugh.
“But you guys, you've always been there. Unwavering in a way I will never be able to express my gratitude for.” he paused to glance around the crowd again, grinning as they cheered. “Not many people can say the same, you know?”
“Where is he going with this?” Dustin asked, leaning close to Robin, who shrugged, trying not to have a visible reaction. There were always cameras on them in public like this. Any reaction would be taken out of context and exaggerated.
“Did you see the tabloid rumors about Eddie and Steve?” She replied, and couldn’t help but smile as Dustin’s head whipped back forward to Steve.
“I mean, there’s Robbie, the kids I used to babysit. And, uh…” he trailed off, which Eddie took as his cue to move to the front of the family tent. “Maybe someone else. This one's for you.” Steve said, leaving the “you” ambiguous enough to be open for interpretation.
Eddie, hamming it up, made a heart with his hands, before immediately starting to headbang along to the love song next in the setlist.
_____
In a surprising twist, Dustin managed to wait until the security team had moved them out of the crowd and behind the stage with the crew nearly two hours later before his outburst.
“What the fuck?!” He asked as soon as the were away from the crowd. “Why are you two playing into this? It’s just going to get more headlines and attention on the two of you, which neither of you usually like!”
“But it’s different if it’s on our terms.” Eddie responded, not even looking up from his phone as he answered Dustin.
“Is it, though? Is it really on your terms if it’s not even true?” Dustin sounded exasperated, and while Robin could relate, she was planning on sitting this one out until Eddie shoved his phone into her face.
“It’s already on TikTok. 4 videos in.” He said with a grin as Robin watched Eddie make a hand heart toward the stage before his hair started flopping all over as he sang along. The clip was captioned “steddie is real!!!”
“So you’re proud you’re deceiving fans?” She asked, which made Eddie’s grin fall.
“Don't be so dramatic,” Steve called as he approached from the stage exit. He was covered in sweat and still in his performance clothes, holding a half empty water bottle. “It’s all in good fun. They never need to know if it was real or not.”
“I think you’re downplaying this by a lot. What happens the next time one of you is seen out on a date?” Dustin pressed, and continued despite the way Steve rolled his eyes. “I mean it, an honest to god date. People are going to lose their minds, trying to figure out what broke up Steve and Eddie, when you were never even together in the first place! They’ll turn you against each other, they always do. And if you weren’t dating, isn’t that just as bad of a look?”
“Woah. Henderson. Chill. It’ll be fine, man. You’re WAY overthinking this.” Eddie said, before he grinned at Steve. “Could you see my hand heart from the stage?”
“I could. Did you catch the wink I sent your way at the end of the song?”
“I did, nice touch! I patted my hand over my heart, so maybe that’ll end up on social, too.”
“I’m going to throw myself into the White River.” Dustin groans loudly, to a round of laughs and elbow nudges.
_____
Steve could pinpoint the exact moment things finally felt out of hand two weeks later.
He was getting ready for the show that will wrap up his first weekend at his “home away from home” in 5 years when Eddie texted him about being late to that night’s show.
It shouldn’t have mattered.
Eddie had missed the last two shows in Chicago
It shouldn’t matter.
Eddie’d been there, religiously, at the 4 shows before Chicago on the tour, and 6 others before that when his band wasn’t playing their own concerts. Steve even made 3 trips of his own to Corroded Coffin shows, around his own obligations.
But it still made him frown at his phone for a moment too long. Long enough Robin caught him.
“More headlines about Steddie?” She asked, slipping the phone from his hands before he could stop her. When she read over the message, though, her expression softened. “Oh, Steve, I’m sorry.”
“It’s no big deal.” Steve rushed out, snatching his phone back and shoving it into his pocket. “It’s fine. I’m not upset, there’s no reason to feel sorry. Besides, he just said he’ll be late, he didn’t say he isn’t coming.”
“Would you be upset if he wasn’t coming, then?” Robin asked. Steve glared daggers at her, and sighed when she held her hands in the air, feigning innocence.
“I don’t know.” He mumbled, honestly.
___
The intro tape was just about to start as Steve was making his usual trek toward his starting point, when he heard someone running and calling his name from behind him, rather than out in the crowd. He paused and turned, to see Eddie rushing toward him.
“I’m so sorry, I just wanted you to see that I made it before you went on!” He was out of breath, his hair more wild from running than usual, and Steve…
Well, frankly, Steve was tired of pretending like Eddie wasn’t the hottest person he’d ever seen.
So Steve met Eddie halfway, threw his arms around his neck and pressed their lips together in a move Eddie seemed to have anticipated because he wasted no time returning the favor.
It was only Steve’s cue music that had him breaking away, biting at his lip and grinning at Eddie, who grinned back at him, before using the hands he’d placed on Steve’s waist at some point in the interaction to turn Steve toward the stage.
“Go, before you miss the start of your own show, superstar. I’ll still be here after.” Eddie said.
“Promise?” Steve called over his shoulder as he made his way toward the stage’s catwalk.
“Cross my heart, big boy.” Eddie drew an x over his heart for dramatic effect, then laughed and ran his fingers through his hair as he watched Steve run to make it to his place on time.
#steddie#Steve Harrington#Eddie Munson#Robin Buckley#Dustin Henderson#popstar!steve#rockstar!eddie#I don’t know what this is#I think it might be inspired by some of the early eras tour matty and Taylor chaos#but idk lmao#hopefully this finds an audience who enjoys it#starkidmunson writes
1K notes
·
View notes
Text
I'm a little puzzled by a few takes I've seen along the lines of, Lila was such a great wife and mother and Diego took her for granted! Because I don't think the show gave us that at all, and I think it relied heavily and lazily on societal norms to get the audience to make that leap. It also ignored previous characterisation, which is why I plan to disregard the season as a whole - because if the characters had been like this from the start, I wouldn't have fallen in love with them.
So, what I mean is: the whole time we see her as a parent, Lila is basically phoning it in. She seems to view her kids as one monolithic, sticky entity sent purely to ruin her day (distinct shades of the Handler there). They're just a list of chores - diapers, dentist, ballet, cake, piñata... And I'm not underestimating how much parenting really is a list of chores to be done - but that's all we see, no love, no fun. She's eager to get away from them, and she's only - finally - desperate to be with them when it's convenient for the plot, at which point we're supposed to buy the idea that her kids are her sole focus (not the relationship that they spent the past two seasons building up). And even then, the focus is not on the reunion with the kids, it's on all the awkwardness of the surprise love triangle. Hell, one of the kids doesn't even get a name.
Their intent might have been to have Lila be the better parent, but like much of this season, it's all tell and no show. We're working off a couple of brief conversations from the points of view of two frustrated, tired, biased individuals who are already at odds with one another, plus the evidence of what they actually do. They show that they’re not communicating well, but they don’t show how that happened, how long this has been growing, if one of them really is more at fault. All we know is that he complains a lot, and she’s sneaking out at night to play secret agent. They tell us that she loves her children (eventually, after seven years apart), but they show her being annoyed and/or bored in every normal, non-apocalyptic interaction. They have her (and Five) tell us that Diego is a bad husband, but they show Lila sniping at his weight, his way of running a birthday party, rolling her eyes at his efforts to impress her and regain her attention - and they show him dadding at everyone (he will turn this van around, so help him), the comfortable love and affection between him and his kids, the Punjabi he learned to speak fluently to his in-laws, him looking for ways to fix his marriage...
Take the bracelet thing, for example. "You hate bracelets," says Diego. "I gave you one for Valentines and you traded it for a Dyson vacuum." I think what we're supposed to take from that is a) Lila stopped wearing the wooden bracelet (uh oh, signs the honeymoon period has worn off!), b) Diego gives thoughtless, stereotypical gifts, and c) he doesn't understand what she really wants.
But an alternative reading is this: a) Lila stopped wearing the wooden bracelet (could not be a clearer or more loaded 'fuck you' to Diego), b) Diego tried to find another way to win her affection (on his pay as a delivery driver, with a wife and three kids to support, he managed to buy a bracelet that was expensive enough to trade for a Dyson?), and c) she rejected that gift as well, without any deeper explanation than 'I hate bracelets'. She's shut down all communication between them and is not telling him what's wrong. She has shut him out so comprehensively that she's got a whole undercover life - for which she apparently has the time and energy! - and yet we're supposed to think that oh it's all on Diego. Why? Lila is not a shy and retiring flower, and she and Diego have been shown before to have some very sincere heart-to-hearts about their relationship. Something changed, okay, fine - but why would we assume it was Diego that caused that?
I think our expectations about What Women Are Like are doing a LOT of the heavy lifting in how the show wants Lila to be perceived. She's a woman, and therefore she's automatically a good wife and mother - that she's emotionally intelligent, the organiser, she'll love her children and would do anything for them, she'll tried the hardest to make her marriage work, just...because boobies, I guess. This is not how you write good parents, or good female characters, TUA! A truly astonishing amount of people actually ARE women, and they know that it doesn't automatically confer any kind of maternal or wifely abilities! These things have to be worked on!
(In real life, women are often socialised to be better at these things, this is sadly true. But an awful lot of us do not have an innate talent for it, and there's no shame in that. And, more relevantly to this post, this is not real life, and Lila is not your average person. She's not normal, and I love that about her. She was raised to be a weapon. Do we really think the Handler installed the 'homemaker' module? Lila herself said that she was scared that she wouldn't know how to be a mother, because she had no good example to base it on.)
I also think the show assumes that, when you get married and have kids, you're automatically granted a house in the suburbs, a bunch of in-laws, and enough money from just the husband's job to get by. And I think that is an incredibly privileged and blinkered assumption. Frankly, unless her parents are financing them, they should be struggling a lot more. None of that is explained, and for me it was a real gap, because these are the arguments that Lila and Diego should be having. Lila caring for the kids versus getting a job. Living with family versus striking out on their own. Diego sticking at a job that makes him miserable and difficult to live with, or taking the huge financial risk of trying to find something better. These are the real life issues they should be facing.
Listen, I think the characterisation of Lila as a parent and spouse in this season is horseshit. I think she would be so much better than they showed - of course she's going to have some low times, she's going to struggle with her own upbringing, but I think she would try her damndest to get it right, and I don't think she'd be defeated so easily. But if we're dealing with what canon actually shows us, she's, uh, kind of mediocre as a mother, and really not that great as a partner.
And yes, I'm sure Diego is no angel, either, he's obviously wrapped up in his problems, and he's probably not much fun to be around when he's fixating on, uh, *checks notes* wanting a more fulfilling job (the fiend). But honestly, he's not that far removed from the Diego we've seen all along, the one she fell in love with. It takes one conversation for him to realise how incredibly fortunate he is, and to convince him to try to work harder on his relationship and stop focusing on the unobtainable. The idea that he's the only one who is failing at this whole gig - the chief culprit in the failure of their marriage, the only one who needs to make an effort to fix things - is bizarre. And it's pretty obvious why they've done it: to justify her thing with Five later and make it all seem more palatable. But there's no real substance behind it.
tl;dr: this season was badly-written, takes some incredibly antiquated attitudes towards the role of women that are inconsistent with the characters they themselves established, and some incredibly classist attitudes towards manual labour, and just hopes that you'll either take it at face value or read the fuck into it, to better sell you a shitty romance that added nothing to the plot.
#I love lila but they DONE HER WRONG this season#anyhow I blocked a bunch of fivela blogs bc I was fed up of seeing that in the tags#no offense to those blogs it's just your ship brings me out in hives#so this is basically me talking to an echo chamber lol#lila pitts#diego hargreeves#tua#the umbrella academy#tua s4#tua s4 spoilers#long post#pepper gets salty
323 notes
·
View notes
Text
So I'm thinking about the Fourteenth Doctor, and the bi-generation, and how he may have come to an end. What happened to him after those years he spent with Donna and her family, and with so many other friends on Earth (oh, I am headcanon-ing, friends), existing day-to-day and beginning to heal? After he learned how to let himself be loved, and shown compassion, and forgiven—and, eventually, learned to love, forgive, and care for himself? What happened when, at the end of this journey, his regeneration energy (I assume?) traveled back (in some hand-wavey fashion) to become the Fifteenth Doctor, who is born out of that love and forgiveness and compassion and is ready to move forward in the universe?
Fourteen becomes Fifteen—but what about the TARDIS?
Fourteen's TARDIS was created for the same reason Fourteen was: they needed to slow down, to be gentle. They needed to find a home that wasn't moving at the speed of light. So maybe this TARDIS is a little gentler, too. Maybe she's a little more careful of herself and her charges.
When Fourteen takes Rose to Mars, they land right where they're supposed to, and Rose sees wonders. Nothing bad happens, and they return home five minutes after they left.
When Shaun wants to see a football match from 1988, he opens the TARDIS door and she takes him right there, flying all by herself, to Fourteen's chagrin.
When Fourteen takes Mel to New York, they have adventures that don't involve running, or hiding, or screaming with anything but laughter. When Fourteen takes Jo, Ace, and Tegan to the Jurassic era, the only danger he faces is when he makes an age joke.
When, after Sarah Jane dies (yeeeears in the future, tyvm), Fourteen takes Luke, Maria, Clyde, and Rani to see Florana—the place he promised to take Sarah Jane all those years ago—the TARDIS chooses the safest, most beautiful moment in time for them to honor her memory.
When Donna and Martha and Yaz and Shirley sneak in for a joyride, they have the time of their lives, and the TARDIS covers for them. (Fourteen suspects, but can't prove it.)
When Fourteen is struggling, and chafing at life on Earth, and just needs to run, to fix things, to solve puzzles, to get away from the day-to-day of it all, the TARDIS lets him. She takes him so many places he's never been before, and they're all beautiful and wild and remind him what he loves about the universe.
(He tries, a few times, to go places that might bring him pain, and she gently refuses.)
And every now and then, someone will try to get in. This TARDIS doesn't have a key; she just opens to those in her care, and refuses entry to those she doesn't trust. She is safe, and so are they.
When Donna's in her eighties and can't get around as easily, the TARDIS takes her where she can manage. When Rose is overwhelmed with the pain of the world, the TARDIS takes her to places where none of that pain exists, and lets her stay as long as she needs to.
They live magnificent lives, and the TARDIS takes care of them. And then, at the end of it, Fourteen is ready for what comes next, and he becomes Fifteen. There's only one Doctor again.
But this TARDIS...
I think she stays, right in the corner of that yard. She leaves and then lands so precisely that roots and ivy grow over her. The Doctor is gone, and eventually Mel and Sarah Jane and Jo and Donna and Martha and everyone that traveled with the Doctor once upon a time in a different TARDIS are gone too.
But Rose is still there. Luke, Maria, Rani, and Clyde are still there. Their families, their kids. The TARDIS opens to them, and shows them the universe. She takes them only where she chooses to, and it's always exactly where they need to go.
She always takes them home, to the garden that once belonged to Donna Noble.
The Doctor finds new companions. Some of them come home to Earth after awhile, but they're not stuck dreaming of the universe. You showed me the furthest reaches of the galaxy, Sarah Jane said. You showed me supernovas, intergalactic battles, and then you just dropped me back on Earth. How could anything compare to that? We get a taste of that splendor, but then we have to go back.
These new companions, they return to Earth and their lives there, but every now and then, they swing by that old house that the Noble family has lived in for generations. They say hello to this old/new box, and she invites them in.
They don't have to say goodbye to the universe. She's right there in Chiswick, waiting for them.
And sometimes—on rare occasions, when they need it, or when he (or she, or they) does—she takes them to the Doctor.
#doctor who#fourteenth doctor#fifteenth doctor#the tardis#donna noble#dw spoilers#headcanons#my fic#ish???#(also i have a bulletin board covered in string detailing exactly how sarah jane is actually alive and well in 2023)#(i also just choose for it to be so)
543 notes
·
View notes
Text
(Once Bitten) Twice Shy
Chapter Seven
Plot summary : Desperate to get away from your controlling family, you take a job in New York as a wealthy vampire's blood source. A million dollars awaits if you can make it through a year, but life with Billy Russo is not going to be as simple as you think.
Pairing : Billy Russo x Reader
Story Rating : R Chapter Rating : R
Warnings : [This is a fic for 18+ only, minors DNI] Smutty behaviour, some of it gets a little rough. Some mention of an emotionally abusive parent, and readers problematic views of her own autonomy. All chapters will contain mentions of blood. Please check the warnings on each chapter if you choose to follow this story.
Word Count : 4.5k
A/N : I think I've finally sorted the tagging issue.
CHAPTER ONE | CHAPTER TWO | CHAPTER THREE | CHAPTER FOUR | CHAPTER FIVE | CHAPTER SIX
MASTER LIST
Chapter Seven
“Are you alright?” Karen asked, pulling your attention from your pancakes. “You’ve been really quiet.”
Your cheeks warmed and you immediately felt bad; she’d shown up early to go to breakfast with you before taking you to the Met, and all you’d been able to think about was the Homeland agent who’d approached you the night before.
“I’m fine,” you answered, forcing a smile. “Just tired. We were out late last night.”
“Billy took you out?” She seemed surprised.
“He took me dress shopping,” you explained, reaching for your coffee. “He’s throwing a party next month and he wanted me to have a new dress.”
“Oh, his Vampire Night party,” Karen nodded and you shot her a confused look. “He does it every year, it’s to celebrate the anniversary vampire’s being accepted into society. It’s supposed to be a big deal but, for Billy, it’s just an excuse to throw a crazy party every year.”
“Does he normally invite the person who’s...” you struggled for a moment, not wanting to out-and-out state what you did in the busy little diner, “working for him when he throws parties?”
“Usually - I mean, it’d be pretty shitty to throw a party in the penthouse and not invite the other person living there.”
“So, the others, they all went to his parties and they enjoyed themselves?”
“Yeah, if there’s one thing Billy knows, it’s how to throw a good party,” she answered, fixing you with a look, as if she could sense there was more you wanted to ask. “Why the sudden interest?”
“I don’t know,” you shrugged, trying to pretend it wasn’t a big deal. “It just seemed like such an easy job and, I guess, I just don’t understand why anyone would do anything to ruin it for themselves. Do you know what happened to them once they left?”
You needed something, some sort of sign, to tell you that you weren’t wrong, that you were safe with Billy. And, if you weren’t...
Well, in that case, you needed to find a way out that didn’t involve going home with your tail between your legs.
“As far as I know, they all went back to their lives. Though there was one...” Karen trailed off, the thought alone making her wince. You shot her a questioning look, silently begging her to continue. “Not the last one, but the one before, she had to be removed by building security. She tried to come back a couple of times but she eventually got the hint.”
The one before the last one - so, one of the last three, one of the ones Madani thought was dead. She’d been fine when she left and she’d been seen a couple of times since. So, that meant that Homeland was wrong about Billy, right?
With your mind set at ease, you happily finished breakfast and, before you knew it, you and Karen were stepping into the Met. You felt like a kid at Christmas. It was everything you’d imagined and more. Karen could barely hold back her amusement as you moved from exhibit to exhibit, never seeming to lose any of your initial excitement. It was something you’d always wanted to do, filled with things you’d always wanted to see.
By lunch time, poor Karen needed to sit down, and you needed a coffee so you ended up in the cafe. When Karen headed to the bathroom, you looked over the map, making a mental note of what you’ve seen and what you still wanted to see. Distracted, you didn’t notice the figure beside you until she’d taken a seat. The Homeland agent, Madani.
“Are you following me?” You demanded, keeping your voice low.
“I’m trying to keep you safe,” Madani answered, ignoring your sharp tone. “Have you thought any more about what we discussed last night?”
“Look, I don’t know what you think you know, but I’m pretty sure Billy hasn’t done anything wrong.”
She fumbled with her pocket, quickly pulling out her phone and showing it to you. “These are the three missing women; Layla El-Faouly, Krista Dumont and Mary Poots.” With each name she moved to a different photo, letting you see each of the missing women. “Has he mentioned any of those names?”
“No.”
“Are you sure? Have you seen anything in his penthouse that might belong to them?” You shook your head, quickly feeling overwhelmed by all of the questions.
“No, and anyway, you said the last three women, right?” You asked and Madani nodded. “People have seen one of them since. She even got thrown out of Billy's building a couple of times.”
“You're sure of that?”
“Yes,” frustration slipping into your tone. “Whatever you're looking for, it's not -”
“Has Russo done anything to hurt you? Is he forcing you into a sexual relationship or have you felt like you’re being controlled?”
“What? No.”
“You might not even realise that he’s doing it. Some vampires are very good at controlling their victims, Russo is -”
“He’s not controlling me,” you told her as firmly as you could, glancing around, hoping to spot Karen. “Can you please leave me alone? I don’t want to lose my job because of this.”
“I can protect you -”
“I don’t need protection, I need this job,” you told her. “Please, I wasn’t kidnapped, he hasn’t hurt me, and I know he hasn’t hurt anyone else. Can you please just leave me alone before you cause any trouble?”
“Okay, I’ll go,” Madani relented, “but I’ll be close by if you need me.”
You muttered that you wouldn’t as she stood and left, just in time for Karen to return.
“Who was that?”
“She was asking me for directions,” you lied, as you stood, not wanting to think about anything Madani had said to you.
It was all crazy, ridiculous. You weren’t being coerced or controlled and you still didn’t believe Billy was capable of hurting anyone. Fortunately, there were plenty of exhibits left to distract you for the rest of the day.
By the time you returned to the penthouse it was getting late. You rushed to draw blood and to throw some pasta onto the stove. When you were done, you found Billy on the sofa, his eyes fixed on the view of the city until he heard you approach.
He smiled and you felt butterflies, and there was a spring in your step as you made your way to the kitchen to grab a glass for his blood before joining him on the sofa.
“You look nice.” His eyes trailing down your body.
“Oh,” you looked down at yourself and the skirt-blouse combination, “Karen took me to the Met. We got back late. I haven’t had time to change yet.”
“I’m glad,” Billy said, taking the glass from your hand, “I love your legs.”
Your cheeks warmed and you bit your lip. As much as Billy liked to pay you compliments, you still weren’t used to it. Honestly, you weren’t sure you’d ever get used to it, especially when Billy managed to make every compliment sound simultaneously sweet and filthy.
“I got you something,” he said a moment later, motioning to a large paper bag on the floor in front of him. Cautiously, you pulled it towards you and pulled out a large yellow, faux-fur blanket. “You can leave it out here for when we watch TV together.”
Butterflies filled your stomach at the gesture, but there was one thought you couldn’t quite shake; “it’s yellow.”
And yellow didn’t exactly match the dark and minimalist decor in the penthouse.
“It made me think of you when I saw it,” Billy shrugged.
The butterflies in your stomach seemed to multiply; it was a warm and happy colour, it was the colour of sunlight, and it had made Billy think of you.
Hugging the blanket to your chest you thanked him before carefully placing it back in the bag.
“I’ve got some time before I need to leave for work, if you want to hang out?” He asked as if he needed to, as if he thought there was any chance that you wouldn’t want to stay there with him.
As he drank, you told him about your day and every little thing you’d seen in the Met. And he listened. It seemed like he was actually listening, hanging on your every word, like he cared, like he wasn’t just indulging you and letting you run your mouth.
“Maybe next time I could take you?” He offered. “They do night openings a few times a month.”
“I’d love that,” you answered without a moment's hesitation.
“Really?”
“Of course. I like spending time with you.”
He finished his drink and quickly put the glass down, licking his lips as he turned himself towards you.
“You like spending time with me?” He repeated.
You couldn’t tell if he was amused or confused. “Yeah, you’re... different to the sort of people I’m used to being around. I like talking to you.”
“Just talking to me?” He asked, a smirk starting to tug at his lips. You felt your face start to heat again as your gaze dropped to your lap. “Still so shy, so easy to embarrass,” he muttered, placing a hand on your bare knee, “but I bet you’re already wet under this little skirt.”
Your breath caught and your thighs clenched together at the realisation that he was right.
You couldn’t bring yourself to look until you realised he was moving. You watched, confused as he slipped onto the floor, his hands on your knees, urging your legs apart so he could sit between them. It wasn’t until he started to slowly kiss your thigh that you realised what he was going to do. Your heart started to race, and Billy noticed.
“Are you okay?” He asked, his cold fingers tracing soothing patterns on your leg.
You nodded, swallowing the lump in your throat, cheeks burning with embarrassment. “I’ve just... I’ve never...”
“It’s okay, hummingbird,” Billy reassured you, smiling softly. “Just relax and let me make you feel good.”
While you managed not to show it, those words almost broke you. He always seemed to care about you, about making sure you felt good, and that wasn’t something you were ever sure you’d get used to.
Your cheeks burned hotter when he reached beneath your skirt and eased your panties down your legs, discarding them somewhere on the floor. But you didn’t have time to dwell on it. He pulled you towards him, lifting your legs over his shoulder while continuing to trail kisses up your thighs. Up and up and up, until -
“Remember the rules,” he told you, gazing up at you from between your thighs, “and breathe.”
Until he mentioned it, you hadn’t even realised that you were holding your breath. With a nod, you let out a slow breath, trying to steel yourself for this new experience. His cold fingers gently parted your folds and a shiver ran down your spine. You bit your lip, keeping your eyes focused on him until you finally felt it. His tongue slipped through your arousal, delicately at first and then with a little more pressure. You back arched and your hips pressed forwards, and you could have swore you felt Billy’s lips pull into a smirk against you.
He alternated between long, slow laps of his tongue and faster flicks, obviously taking note of your reactions. One moment he was focused on your clit, the next, you felt the tip of his tongue against your entrance. Your body shuddered, completely overwhelmed, and you almost lost your mind when you heard Billy groan.
“Billy -” you gasped, knowing that you weren’t going to last long.
“Not yet,” he almost-growled from between your thighs.
Before you could even think to beg, his tongue was against you again. Your fingers slipped into his hair, needing something to hold on to as your thighs started to tremble. It felt like you were being devoured by his mouth, his lips and his greedy tongue making you feel sensations you’d never felt before. Soon enough, it felt like his grip on your thighs was the only thing keeping you from crushing his head - it was too much and not enough all at once, you desperately wanted the release of an orgasm but you didn’t ever want him to stop.
“Fuck-fuck-fuck...” you whimpered, barely holding back. “Billy, please...”
It almost seemed cruel when you felt his lips on your throbbing clit, gently sucking. Your back arched again, trying to press yourself closer but his strong grip kept you in place.
Your fingers tugged on his hair, twisting and pulling, earning another groan from Billy. Every muscle tensed and you felt like a spring coiled too tight, like you could snap at any moment. And, thankfully, Billy seemed to realise that.
“Okay, hummingbird, you can come,” he muttered, barely pulling his lips away from you.
One more flick of his tongue and you were done for, crying out as you came undone. All the while his tongue kept moving, lapping the wetness that spilled from you, and not pulling back until your thighs were violently shaking.
While you struggled to catch your breath, Billy lowered your legs and rested his chin on your thigh, grinning up at you.
“What are you smirking at?” You managed to ask, fighting back a smile of your own.
“I don’t think I’ve ever heard you swear before.”
You bit your lip, your cheeks starting to warm again. “I think the situation called for it.”
That got a laugh from Billy.
“I’ll take that as a compliment,” he said before getting himself off the floor and sitting beside you again. “Did you enjoy it?”
Of course, you couldn’t answer. Once he’d asked the question you couldn’t even look at him. All you could do was give the slightest little nod, suddenly acutely aware that your panties had ended up on the floor in front of the TV and, as much as you wanted to, you couldn’t tear your eyes from them.
That is, until Billy placed a hand on your cheek, turning your face to his. For a few seconds he simply looked at you, almost seeming confused, before smiling again.
“What is it about you?” He asked quietly, his thumb softly caressing your cheek. “Why can’t I get enough?”
Before you could answer, he’d closed the distance between you, kissing you and sending you into a tailspin. How could he keep saying things like that, how could he keep making you feel so special, when he seemed so reluctant to - god, you didn’t even know. You still didn’t understand how this casual thing was supposed to work. The time you spent together left you feeling like there was something, a connection between you, but that wasn’t what you’d agreed to. It was just supposed to be fun.
But, surely casual fun was supposed to lead to sex, right?
“That’s not what I want to see when I kiss you,” he remarked, pulling back a little, leaving you even more confused until he clarified; “you’re frowning.”
“I was just...” you fell into silence for a moment, not sure how to say it. “Do you want me, Billy?”
“Do I want you?” He repeated.
“Yeah, I mean like -”
“Oh, hummingbird, I know exactly what you mean,” he almost laughed, his hand still on your cheek. “I’m just not sure how you can ask me that after I’ve just been on my knees worshipping you.”
Not knowing how to respond to that, you kissed him, tasting the lingering traces of your arousal on his lips and tongue. You pressed closer and closer, until you felt an arm around your waist, pulling you onto his lap.
“I don’t want to rush you,” he muttered against your lips.
“You’re not,” you answered breathlessly, sinking back into his lips..
He pulled you closer, positioning you so you could feel the bulge of his erection against you. The feeling alone was enough to cause your hips to shudder and buck, still feeling sensitive from his tongue. Billy groaned, his lips pulling from yours and finding your neck. You barely noticed the buttons of your blouse being undone until he started to push it off your shoulders.
Trembling fingers started to pull open his shirt, hands exploring every inch of cold skin that you revealed, feeling the raised lines of scars beneath your touch. Billy squirmed when your hand trailed over his shoulder, his body pressing up against yours.
Your heart raced faster when you felt him unclasp your bra. You barely had time to finish removing it before his lips were on your breasts, kissing, licking and sucking. Every cold touch sent a jolt of pleasure right to your core and, before you knew it, you were gently rocking your hips against him.
“Billy,” you gasped as his lips closed over your nipple.
Desperately, you dropped your hands to his waist, fumbling with his belt then, when that was open you started on the fastenings of his pants.
A yelp escaped you when you felt his teeth on your nipple, not biting hard enough to break skin but more than enough to give you a shock. An eager growl sounded in the back of his throat as he moved to your other nipple. But his sudden roughness wasn’t enough to stop you.
Despite his cold touch roaming your body, you felt hot, like you were on fire. Every deep breath you took was him; his cologne, his clean shirt, the products in his hair. You were intoxicated, drunk on Billy Russo. His fingertips pressed into your hips with a bruising force, but all you cared about was getting his zipper down and letting him possess you completely.
“My little hummingbird,” he muttered in that low, dangerous tone as his lips moved back to yours. “I’m going to ruin you.”
He kissed you again, groaning into your mouth with an unbridled want that seemed to match your own. The words didn’t shock you like they perhaps should have, they didn’t worry you at all. You trusted him to stay in control.
Clumsy fingers tugged at his zipper and -
“Shit!” You yelped as the zipper nicked your skin, pulling back from him, lifting your finger to your lips.
Billy’s whole body went rigid beneath you, eyes narrowing, dropping to the finger between your lips.
“It’s alright, I just -” you started and stopped just as quickly, looking at the small bleeding cut before looking at Billy.
His eyes seemed to get darker and you watched his throat bob uncomfortable as he tried to swallow. You squirmed as his grip tightened on your hips, holding you in place. The tiny cut bleeding in a way that only tiny cuts could.
“Billy...” you muttered softly, trying to soothe the monster inside of him.
Gingerly, you reached for him, tenderly running your fingers through his hair while you returned your bleeding finger to your mouth, trying to remove temptation.
His jaw tensed before he lunged forwards, pressing his lips to yours, his tongue forcing its way into your mouth, desperately seeking your finger and the tiniest drop of blood. You tried to push his face away, your hand on his jaw, your finger ending up between his lips.
“Billy, stop,” you pleaded, “please.”
Suddenly you found yourself hitting the floor as he stood and moved away from you. It took you a second or so to get over the initial shock before you grabbed your blouse and covered yourself. By the time you got to your feet, Billy was halfway to the elevator, buttoning his shirt as he went.
“I’m sorry.” The words left you in a desperate and broken tone, not knowing what you could possibly say to fix the situation or stop him from leaving.
Billy froze, taking an uncomfortable breath before turning back to you, confusion written all over his face. His eyes moved from you to the elevator and back again, weighing his options.
“Why are you sorry?” He asked, a crack in his voice that made your heart ache. “You did nothing wrong.”
“I was clumsy, and I pushed you, and I -” you sniffled, blinking as your eyes threatened tears.
“You didn’t do anything wrong,” he told you, voice firm and certain, “that’s not what happened.”
“Then why are you leaving me?”
Billy was at a loss, staring as you tried not to break down in front of him. Your mind was racing over everything that had happened, over everything that you had done wrong - all the things that Billy seemed to want to ignore. You’d always been clumsy, never careful enough. Your mother had always chastised you, telling you that you only did it for attention, telling you that you were needy, criticising you for always wanting to be the centre of attention.
It was easy to spiral into those negative thoughts, to see all your faults and failings, to feel broken and unloveable.
He stepped towards you, confusion softening into something more like concern.
“You didn’t do anything wrong,” he repeated, “I did. I almost lost control, I could’ve -”
“I shouldn’t’ve complained, I -”
“Don’t say that,” he snapped, his tone sharp enough to jolt you from your self-loathing. “I told you that you always have a choice here. Always. No one gets to hurt you, and you never have to go along with anything that scares you or makes you uncomfortable. Do you understand?”
On some level you did, you understood completely, you knew that he was right, but years of being made to feel like you were the problem were hard to overcome.
Reluctantly, he closed the distance between you, his hand finding your cheek, urging you to look at him.
“How you feel matters, hummingbird. What you want matters,” he told you. “I don’t want to scare you. It’s me, I - there’s something wrong with me, something I can’t always control, and you deserve better than that. I don’t want to do anything that you’re not a hundred percent certain about. I never want you to regret anything that we do together.”
It felt like your throat was closing up and your vision started to blur, it wasn’t until the first sob shook your body that you realised you were crying. The idea that you had a choice, that you got to decide what you wanted, and that your feelings mattered - no one had let you have that before. His arms wrapped around you, pulling you tight against his chest.
“No one gets to hurt you,” he told you again. “I won’t let anything happen to you. I promise I’ll keep you safe.”
Even from himself, though the words went unsaid.
He shushed you as you whimpered the word sorry again and held you tighter when you hid your face against his shoulder. Minutes passed, and Billy held you, not moving, not pulling away. Eventually you stilled, your breathing slowing and the sobs subsiding. But, still, Billy didn’t move. His hold on you didn’t loosen until you slowly pulled back.
Your head instantly dropped, the back of your hand trying to scrub the tear stains from your cheeks. One of his hands remained on you, resting gently on your shoulder.
“I’m sorry,” you muttered.
“What are you sorry for?”
“I don’t know,” you finally admitted.
“Do you want to talk about it?”
“Do you?”
The question hung awkwardly in the air between you, neither one of you wanting to answer it. It was more than obvious now that you both had baggage, you both had parts of yourself that you were desperate to keep hidden, but it was also becoming clear that you weren’t going to be able to hide forever.
“I think we’ll have to eventually,” Billy told you.
As much as you hated it, you knew he was right.
Silence lingered for a few seconds before you quietly confessed; “I feel safe with you.”
It felt important to tell him that, like everything else could come after. Despite his little lapses in control, you trusted him. He looked like he wanted to ask how you could feel that way after everything but, at the same time, it was clear that he didn’t want to know.
“Are you... okay?” You asked after a moment of silence.
“It’s complicated,” he said and, for a second, it seemed like he was going to leave it at that. “I just - when you’re a vampire, everything is so loud. Everything feels like it’s too much. It makes you want so much. Sometimes I feel like I can’t control it.”
You stomach knotted as you watched him struggle, the jagged edge to his tone furthering something he’d already let slip days ago; he didn’t want to be like that. He didn’t want to be a vampire.
“I feel like that too, sometimes,” you offered softly. “Not exactly the same but - my mom always used to tell me that no one likes emotional women. Whenever I’d get upset, she’d tell me I was being hysterical or call me an attention seeker. So I started holding it all in. I wouldn’t complain or get upset, I’d just pretend I was fine, and it made me feel like I was going to burst...”
Without warning, he pulled you into another hug, and you let him, your face pressing back into the damp spot you’d left on his shoulder.
“I’m sorry,” he muttered, sounding almost guilty, like he thought he was somehow to blame. “You don’t have to hold it in with me, you don’t have to pretend or go along with anything that you don’t want.”
“I do want this though,” you confessed, stopping short of telling Billy that you wanted him, that you were starting to feel something for him. It had only been a few weeks but, already, you felt a connection to him, something you didn’t want to give up.
He seemed torn, almost like he wanted to cut his losses and end things now, and you weren’t sure how you were going to make it through the rest of the year if you had to go back to how things had been at the start. That is, if he even wanted to keep you around. Technically, because of him, you’d broken your contract.
“You need to promise me something; if you’re ever not comfortable, you’ll tell me to stop, and if I ever scare you, you’ll tell me,” he told you in a firm and uncompromising tone.
“I promise, but -” you hesitated, not sure if he’d appreciate your condition, “- but you have to tell me when you’re not feeling well.”
Billy nodded and you sank forward into his arms again, holding him tight for a little while longer until he finally had to get ready and leave for work. And, of course, you felt terrible that he had to go and change out of his crease, tear-stained shirt before he went. He left with the promise of spending time with you tomorrow.
CHAPTER EIGHT
End Note : The Marvel name drops are mostly just easter eggs (and because I HATE coming up with names for side characters. I feel like a lot went on in this chapter but I don't actually have a lot to say about it. I'm just slowly piling on the mystery and angst.
Anyway! Thanks for reading! I've really loved all your comments and questions on this series. Have a great weekend!!
Let me know if you'd like to be tagged in future chapters! If tagging doesn't work for some reason (aka Tumblr being dumb) I post most Fridays around 7:30 gmt. (I think I've found a way to get tagging to work properly again, please let me know if it doesn't tag you.)
Tag List : @vaguekayla @thdcre @rensolodriver @house-husband-of-castlemurdock
@snowkestrel @danzer8705 @noortsshift @aoi-targaryen @lincerad
@vxnity713 @readerinsertsaremyguiltypleasure @dreadfulxives18 @fireeyes-on-teller-dixon-grimes @glamourbabe17
@sweetserendipity65 @damagelove @strangerfromketterdam @a-starrynightwith-u @readingabouthim
@countryday @weepingwitchofthewest @broadwaybabe18 @bunnygirlwriter876 @oliviaewl
@rosey1981 @benbarnesprettygurl @rachlovesactors @robertthehoover @ladyblacky
#billy russo#billy russo x reader#billy russo x female reader#billy russo fanfic#the punisher#(ob)ts ff#billy russo imagine
169 notes
·
View notes
Text
BNHA 430: This wasn’t very “My Hero Academia” of you I’ll be honest—
Okay, where do I begin? Uh. So the story reached its conclusion. Congratulations, and all the best to Horikoshi-san for telling the story he wanted to tell for ten years, loved the characters, the little world he created after the cancellation of his previous works, I will cherish it for the rest of my life.
... but in my opinion: the last seven chapters were so bad- I don't think I can see this ending as anything other than a contradiction of what we were shown. Like, I thought we'd get a twist, everyone would be fine, something would change. I'm wearing the clown shoes already.
So, I'm just gonna treat this as a normal chapter, and not a final one, because I'll be here for days if I open this can of worms, which, I will not lie, is very bad (I'll open it at some point, not now.) I'm posting this on the.. 6th? Because apparently there's an announcement in the 5th and I don't wanna spoil the fun.
So, uh, under the read more are my thoughts on the ending, be warned I'm very, very negative about it.
*sigh* Oh boi, how killing the League made this go from an "underwhelming" to a "tone-deaf" chapter- I mean. Jesus fuck, leaving things open-ended don't erase the fact they can't make a single appearence to prove me wrong. And if they were alive, the last five chapters (and eight years!) were a waste of emotions and keeping them hidden was a stupidly cruel move.
Funny, the narration is "people aren't equal but it's because of these differences that people find common ground to get along"- THE VILLAINS WERE KILLED OFF FOR BEING DIFFERENT BRO WHAT DO YOU MEAN- "if lending a hand and caring is being a hero then we all became the greatest heroes". Izuku, whatever you're drinking, I'm taking it and drinking it all by myself. You may have cared (which I can't even say for certain anymore). But Tenko died. On accident. Because you gave him OFA.
I liked the "Midoriya-Sensei" part. For 5 seconds. It's fitting, he loves learning stuff, he's good with kids... until you say "it's only because his embers are gone". Then why use it as a tease for seven chapters only to just get rid of them at the end? Is running to Ochako really the last we get to see him use it? Not even as a part-time hero? (not that it matters at the end-)
Ragdoll works with the WWP, Tsukuachi was head strategist in the final battle, Hawks is the (H)PSC president, Aizawa is Aizawa. Why wasn't Izuku hired at an agency? Intelligence was a huge part of his character, yet the moment he was fully Quirkless again, he had to leave? Men truly aren't created equal...
"Cursed power", "blessing", "special" — the only thing special about OFA was being haunted by a guy whose brother was insane enough to hunt it down for generations. A Quirk's a Quirk; having multiple people/powers in one body isn’t special, Tokoyami and Shoto exist. Izuku was supposed to make it special using it on his terms. But I guess "meant to save, not kill" was a lie, as eight out of ten people who had it died. Nine out of eleven, counting BNHA: HR. Tenko died because his body couldn't handle the Quirk, but I guess Izuku isn't gonna think about any of it? Katsuki was right, I guess. OFA is a curse.
Spinner wrote a book (not a comic, guess he took offense to Izuku. Fair, actually). Mr. Compress got a panel, but no real mention of the LoV? They broke the status quo for months (in-universe), and after all of that, nothing changes? Did Spinner know about Tenko, how he became Tomura? And the people who will read it and pull an MLA? TomurAFO had followers, now he's martyr a lá Re-Destro. I’m hoping Spinner didn’t commit suicide like Destro did.
Ochako’s expanding Quirk Counseling. Reform’s implied (it only said expansion), but Himiko still became what Curious wanted her to be: A cautionary tale. And I’m still asking how Ochako knows Himiko what went through, she only told Ochako she was hated because of her Quirk and how she loves. I wanna think she’s reforming it, but nothing else changed, why should I think she’s the exception? She might literally just think Himiko didn't get help, that's a cruel irony.
(At least she's seen as a hero on her rights… even if it took 429 chapters, messy writing, her face looking like rubber, and still being a girl recognized as a "caretaker", not a kickass hero).
Shoji's travelling through Japan to solve discrimination and got a prize for it. No foundations or mentions of Spinner being the main reason he did it, just "standing atop those who rose up eight years ago", just solving it peacefully, you sure are, buddy. Like, I'm sure you are being successful but how exactly are you solving this? I mean, you "solved" the hospital fight by fighting Spinner with Koda- Oh wait, time constraints, we can't elaborate how. I'm rolling my eyes
Shirakumo showed the noumu state could've been reversed, yet Katsuki, who never killed someone aside from AFO (and that guy was gonna die anyway), fatally exploded him. I hoped it was a misunderstood panel but no. He died because he wanted to save Tenko. Even fucking Gran Torino was alive by the end of this. Why.
I think Shoto is the only main character I’m not really having a problem with (Ochako's ending required Himiko for it to feel somewhat complete. Sorry, Ochako). I’m weirded out that they mentioned the billboard using the guy whose life was ruined by it as an example, but other than that, he’s doing fine. Wish we saw him talking to his siblings though. But alas. No mention of Fuyumi and Natsuo. And Rei's with Endeavor. Fuck I take it back Todofam still deserved better.
Inko got so sidelined when Mitsuki and Masaru were in 424 for half a chapter, by the way. Just one panel for her, the protagonist's mother.
Schedules not aligning is one thing (I get it, my friends and I can't align ours anymore), but Class A not opening an agency together? They survived the same two wars. And you're telling me they wouldn't say "WE'RE WORKING TOGETHER AND TAKING MIDORIYA WITH US"? Also, where’s the "world where heroes have time to spare" when they look so busy? Were they understaffed or working as celebrities? (if someone says it was for the suit I will point out to the three nepo babies of Class A + Momo's Quirk, Katsuki’s a dumbass if he forgot that detail).
We wasted pages on a kid that can throw plates from his hair. To tell him he can be a hero. Coming from the guy who had to stop working as a hero when he lost OFA. I'm not taking this parallel seriously.
I wish Izuku wasn't in "everything’s fine" mode until the end. We're really gonna leave him at "implied" mode, not confirm if his mental state's fine? Being open and emotional was an appealing part of him and now we just get “Yeah that’s just how it is”.
This one's petty and irrational, I know, but since I'm letting some of the steam out: I hate Izuku's new design; face scars (the constant "HE FAILED" reminder makes my eye twitch and I wish that was a joke, but also so many characters in BNHA got face scars, it doesn't even stand out), "perfect tie", normal formal attire- where's the character highlights? The things that make Izuku stand out?
But hey: He gets to be a hero again! Not with skills, heart, intelligence, strength, in spite of Quirklessness. No, he has an Iron Man suit! That Class A paid billions for. The government should be paying the child soldiers- sorry, Class A and B (and Shiketsu and Ketsubutsu) instead, but all they get is a pat on the back. If the suit breaks down, hurts or kills him while in it? I'll laugh (Hatsume and Melissa worked on it? Oh it's gonna happen, I'm hoping). And Toshinori, what happened to him, did he hit his head when he landed on that building!?
Went from: Smiles cover his fear and reassure people, believed saving is about saving body and soul, wanted to help Tenko, only didn't because Gran Torino said it wasn't a good idea. Disliked people were being heroes for fame and not because it's the right thing to do, only used support items as reinforcement and a precaution, never as a full solution, even Iron Might was so he’d have a chance to fight, not a solution.
To: If Tenko died smiling, it wasn't resignation, he was saved, even though he died. Didn't care AFO killed the Shimura - his mentor's - bloodline. Is fine with the billboards existing, even though it caused things like the Todoroki plotline. Now he's giving Izuku a suit, when the last time he did it himself, it didn't save him and his spine was almost snapped? Dude, what?
Also full disclosure, I thought he was paralyzed, but I guess he just had a bad back. Let's not discuss the trauma of almost being snapped in half and feeling your bones break so bad you set a record of how many screws were used, I guess.
... I hated BKDK's conclusion. It's actually so laughable how much I hate it. If it had another outcome, I'd probably be overjoyed as a shipper. But look at this mess:
Thematically, Tenko wasn't rescued, it wasn't a perfect victory because AFO still got away with what he did to him. Save to win, win to save were just nice words. "The End of an Era and The Beginning"? Nothing changed in the world they live in, and they don't stand out among other heroes (these are AM’s successors. And they aren't even important. How.) What new era is this, really?
Their resolutions, relationship rebuild? Offscreen, but Katsuki was the one with the Iron Man suit idea for Izuku and apparently that compensates for it. Because he’s the one who can solve all of Izuku’s problems now, not motivate him to be better anymore. It wasn’t even Izuku’s idea, it was Class A, and sure it’s a nice (condescending) gesture. We’ve seen Toshinori barely come out alive even with one. That's a support item for a reckless little shit who will get himself killed.
Izuku barely batted an eye to any of the things he went through - losing his arms and/or OFA? Seeing Spinner's breakdown? Lady Nagant!? Katsuki or Tenko dying because of Izuku and OFA!? SOME INTROSPECTION?! IT’S BEEN OVER 100 CHAPTERS SINCE YOU’VE BEEN THE EMOTIONAL MC—
Katsuki's insecurities were pointless by the way! Izuku's empathy and heart never mattered, a Quirk was more important to be a hero in the end. BULLIED HIM FOR NOTHING BUDDY- like. Shouldn't have done it at all, but now his character development means nothing because his previous beliefs were the right ones. Changing for the better was pointless. Like Twice's death. Or Katsuki’s own death, since “Control Your Heart” meant nothing as well.
Izuku still remembers Tenko, but has he done anything about it? No one wants to remember him, Himiko or Touya. Spinner's book won't be taken seriously except for Tenko's followers, Mr. Compress was sidelined, Twice's death was pointless. They didn't change society, they've returned to the status quo. Pointless as Izuku losing his arms.
That fucking suit- Wow, he really couldn't be a Quirkless hero, the casual rivalry was just erased for an easy way out of their consequences, there's no catching up because Katsuki paid for Izuku a way to be a hero. Izuku doesn't get there because he still believes Quirks make a hero. This isn't heartwarming or romantic or whatever, Katsuki just proved he also didn't believe Izuku in the end.
And it ends with Izuku seeing Tenko's... Ghost? Hallucination? Vestige? I guess we’ll never know, because Izuku’s following his dreams again! Let's ignore he's doing this during class hours and he definitely should be in UA but who cares, he probably quit, we'll never know. Aside for the BKDK/DKBK fics, being a teacher was clearly a inferior choice for him and he can't do both ignore Aizawa and Present Mic look at him being the world's greatest hero!
It just took 1 year of trauma, scars, following on his mentor's mistakes, losing the thing that "actually" made him be a hero, having the first (Katsuki) and the last (Tenko) people he tried to save dying because of his existence (one literally by his hands), proving anyone can be one! By ignoring the guilt of those you failed, give hands and sparing your thoughts, having superpowers and/or connections who'll give you a suit! And if they still "act out"? Then they deserved death no matter the valid points they've had and you gotta play jury judge executioner. Unless they decide to be quiet like a good entitled citizen.
Fuck this shit I swear- You could’ve had a BKDK proposal with a double spread handhold, and I'd still think Izuku's ending isn't earned. His "happy ending"— actually. BKDK crumbs are the fandom's consolation prize for this ending. I feel cheated out my OTP (like. I'm shipping the version of them in my head, not the canon one 412-onwards because it got worse from there-)
A story about hope bent itself over to give the protagonist an unearned happy ending, when it said it was for every character who wants to connect to that hope, who wants to give that hope. Izuku went from "wanting to be a beacon of hope and save people" to "talk about beacons of hope, but in the end, others are doing this better than you. You had none of the willpower to be one." He's not hope or unity. Act 3!Izuku is just a plot device, I feel nothing for his ending other than irritation, and I hate it because he was my favourite character. Lol, a very useless one in the end.
So. Yeah, those are my thoughts about the ending. I think. I don't know if these are all of them. I feel horrible about hating it, but I've sat on this chapter for days and right now, not a lot can make me like it, especially with the timeskip, which made this "open ending" a rushed and incomplete mess. If you disagree with me, honestly, that is very fair. I'm glad for you if you liked the ending. I'm just disappointed, and wanted to share my opinions. (and I do have more stuff to say about it but I think I've been negative enough)
But for the weeks I spent hoping this wouldn't slap a classic shonen ending in this catasthrophic mess and for making me feel like a dumbass after what we got in the end: Everything after 410 that isn't 421 and 422 is non-existent to me, this epilogue was a freaking waste.
Thank you for reading.
(EDIT.: Fixed some spelling mistakes and added a few more things because I can keep going on how bad this ending is. Also to clear stuff up: I am still a BKDK shipper. But only until 412, anything after that? Yeah, no, keep that shit away from me lol.)
#Boku no Hero Academia#BNHA Spoilers#MHA Spoilers#spider.posts#BNHA Critical#I didn't think I'd use this tag at all but god this chapter warranted it- AND RIGHT AT THE ENDING?! WHAT THE HELL#BNHA 430
80 notes
·
View notes
Text
TUA S4 feels
Pretty sure that Umbrella Academy S4 finale left a permanent scar on my psyche. Still one of my favorite shows but I might just end after season 3 in future rewatches. So many issues with S4.
In like episode 1 we got Ben and Jennifer touching and that started a countdown to the end of the world and the whole season was just junk to fill that time. So many good ideas that weren't done properly at all. Shuffling their powers? Alternate timelines? Hargreaves owning pretty much everything? Abigail just being alive? Pointless.
Luther was just a repeating loop of stripper and home decorating jokes.
Diego should have been a martial arts instructor or something not a depressed delivery guy. A bunch of jokes about him getting out of shape only to reveal that he's still jacked. He throws a potted plant and misses. His arc is just Big Sad for no reason and the relationships he built in the first three seasons were apparently irrelevant, if anyone would have been taking care of Safety Klaus it would have been him.
Allison's character was just an accessory to Klaus, after three seasons of her trying to reclaim the family she lost she ended up spending more time as a tool to Klaus's arc than she did with Claire. And Ray just being casually written out was so disrespectful.
Klaus, oh poor Klaus, my favorite character, what did they do to you? He should have been a nurse or something but instead he was paranoid, then pissed off because the writers decided that Klaus would equate marigold with drugs and just fall right off the wagon? And then he goes to some sketchy guy he owes money to even though S1 Klaus is shown just buying drugs from random people? All to justify his prisoner plot, none of which had any real impact. And he can fly for a second for some reason. Okay.
Five working for the CIA was bad. He should have been the retired fun uncle to Claire and Grace. After spending fifty years trying to get back to his family why did he keep leaving them? Why did he hook up with his brother's wife after only six years? And am I supposed to believe that in every timeline he has the same haircut? That none of the other Fives lost their arm? How did he never notice his boss's blatant umbrella tattoo? He just casually strolls through "his" apocalypse as though he doesn't have ptsd, and why were he and Lila living off sewer rats when they had infinite timelines to scavenge?
I was so excited to see Ben witg the family but one episode in he becomes a bomb and fucks off with a girl who can hardly be called a character.
Viktor was the only character I thought got some form of authenticity and justified growth, his arc kind of seemed like a ripoff of S3 Klaus though. And we missed out on what could have been a really beautiful scene of him drawing the upside down umbrella on his arm.
Lila went from "I don't want to be like my mom" to a motherhood cliche. And what was the deal with her family? She just found her parents and they immediately accepted her or something? Was there another Lila in this universe? That made no sense. If anyone would have joined the CIA it would have been her. Her and Diego should have been weird parents teaching their kids how to fight and kill but instead they got some domestic life that those characters never belonged in.
And there's so much more! Abigail is alive? Hardly relevant. Why did she body snatched Gene, it didn't really seem to change anything. The Keepers existed only to be a minor obstacle in the last episode. And are her and Reggie aliens? Why? How? What's the point?
AND DURANGO? THAT'S A CAR! Harland named marigold and for a farm kid that makes sense (though the retconned acceptance of that word into Umbrella vocabulary was irksome) But Durango? Abigail is a scientist and she names The Bad Dust after an SUV? Why?
AND WHY WAS THERE ZERO QUEERNESS? Each of the first three seasons had some sort of queer arc but not this one. I still wonder if some higher-up didn't intentionally assassinate the show as backlash for the immense respect S3 gave Elliot Page.
One last thing, music is a big part of the show, they've always put such thought and care into the soundtrack and it makes sense knowing who the creators are, so why, of all songs, was Baby Damn Shark the first song to be featured in like three episodes? It seems intentionally disrespectful.
I'm done, rant over, I'll never recover from this.
#Tua#the umbrella academy#umbrella acedmy#Rant#klaus hargreeves#tua s4 spoilers#tua season 4#tua s4#tua spoilers
58 notes
·
View notes
Note
I feel like this is a horrible thing to say, but when I'm shown examples of when Marinette is having a hard time, it's hard for me to feel bad for her.
It's not like I think she deserves it and I certainly don't draw any joy from it, but I just don't feel any sympathy for when she's struggling.
My theory is that the show has toted her so much as the all-important one-and-only, all while ignoring everyone else's important moments and struggles, that I'm struggling to feel sympathetic for when Marinette is going through some sort of misfortune. Every single one of her struggles are always highlighted in such a way that it's supposed to be this incredibly-important thing that makes Marinette look so sad, but then she's comforted and validated until eventually, this struggle eventually gets resolved and she's all happy again.
But then there's Adrien. No closure about his mom, his dad, Natalie—nothing. He's slapped with all the responsibility of comforting and validating Marinette, who eventually gets her personal conflicts resolved without lasting impact.
I'm not saying Marinette hasn't done anything to comfort and validate Adrien, but his conflicts just feel largely brushed aside and/or downplayed in comparison to Marinette's, which are highlighted and emphasized as significant events.
I don't know if this makes me a bad person or something, and I do kind of feel bad about it, but I just struggle to sympathize with her when the show tries to make us feel bad for her.
Marinette is a fictional character. It's totally fine if the bad writing has completely turned you off to her and drained you of sympathy because the entire purpose of her existence is to entertain people. She's not some meaningful representation that you should want to connect with and understand to improve your world view or something like that. She's just a poorly written teenager in a bad kids show. As long as you're able to acknowledge that fact and own that this is mainly a writing issue - and it sounds like you are - I wouldn't stress about it. The writers have done a lot to make her unlikable! I totally get why someone would not want to watch a show starring her canon self. I struggle at times and I genuinely like Marinette! Her writing is one of the many reasons I just don't know if I'm going to watch season six.
I don't defend Marinette because she's done nothing wrong. I defend her because her faults are so clearly just bad writing and not some grand plan for the character where she's going to learn something, which makes me feel protective of her because I genuinely love the base character concept and what she could have been. It's annoying to see people treating her like she's the problem and not the writing because she's literally not allowed to learn lessons and change, so of course she keeps coming across worse and worse! Her flaws are genuinely fine for a serialized story, they just have no place in an episodic one where the characters stay largely stagnant.
For example, nothing about the season five conflict and final naturally follows the BS season four conflict where she supposedly learned to trust Chat Noir. As much as I don't agree that with that synopsis of what the conflict was, it is how Ladybug sums it up in the final:
Ladybug: Why don't you just give up on me? I've lost ALL the Miraculous! I'm the worst Guardian EVER! I wanted to control everything, I didn't listen to you, I lied to you, I kept you at a distance! Every time you offered me a helping hand, I never took it! I really made a mess of EVERYTHING! Cat Noir: We're gonna get them back one by one…until the very last. And we'll make sure this never happens again.
And yet none of this seems to impact season five. Chat Noir and Ladybug maintain all their secrets and they do absolutely nothing to track down the missing miraculous because the plot won't let them even though it really doesn't fit Marinette's character. She certainly hasn't given up controlling things because, once again, the show literally will not let her do that. The rare episodes where it happens always see her punished like when Alya handing out miraculous lead to SentiNino which almost lead Gabriel to knowing Ladybug's secret identity. Adrien suffers for similar reasons. So does Alya and so many other characters! I totally get why someone would not be able to look past canon's writing since it's not like the flaws are minor. I have the same problem with both Lila and Nathalie.
I just cannot stand Nathalie even though I know that she's as much of a victim as Marinette and all the other characters. None of Nathalie's flaws are her fault because she doesn't exist. It's just that Nathalie's bad writing hits me in a way that makes me despise her while Marinette's hits in a "protect and defend" way. There's no wider logic here. It's just a matter of what characters I connected with enough to look past the bad writing. The type of fanfics I read probably also helped...
My only real piece of advice on this topic is to watch your mental health and take a Miraculous break or even leave the fandom all together if you notice that your Marinette hate (or hate of anything in canon) is really messing with you. I've mentioned before that I'm debating about watching season six and a big reason why is that I don't know if it's going to be good for my mental health. Lila's writing has consistently got on my nerves, but she was a minor enough character that I was still having a good time. Given that Lila is our new big bad with the added bonus of how shitty season five was and the show may have hit a point where it's just not fun for me anymore.
Previously, I had issues with the overall writing, but genuinely enjoyed watching the show as the writers are pretty good at short form story telling, so canon was a nice mix of genuinely enjoyable moments and writing issues that were fun to talk about. That was not true for season five and I just can't picture how it will be true for season six. The only reason I'm even considering it is because I watch the show with my SO and he has a lot of fun listening to me rant about bad media, so I may still have a good time with season six. It would not be the first time that I suffered through a piece of bad media for the sake of a loved one who really wanted someone to rant about it with.
I'm not the kind of person who will tell people they're not welcome in a fandom unless they like X. That sort of gate keeping is ugly and often straight up bullying, so don't read this as me saying that you have to like Marinette to enjoy the show or that you need to disengage if you don't like X% of canon. As long as you're having fun and not forcing your dislike on others by sending clearly unwelcome asks or engaging with sugar posts in an antagonistic way or anything like that, then I'm going to defend your right to be in fandom even if we personally aren't going to get along and need to stay in our separate fandom bubbles.* All I'm saying is that it's important to know when to disengage from a piece of media. To keep track of when something starts consistently bringing you more sorrow than joy. When that line is crossed? It's time to move on.
The sad fact is that, while you may utterly adore a piece of media, you have no control of what that media will do, so you need to be very careful about trusting your mental health to total strangers. It's part of why I tend to be so critical of media. Analysis and plot pitches like I do on this blog are genuinely fun for me, but they're also a much healthier way to engage with a story than just trusting it to be good and getting burned when it isn't. There's a reason I avoid theory crafting. I've gotten really into that in the past and wound up hurt because I put way too much faith in strangers who ended up sucking at their job.
*Btw, the line about separate fandom bubbles was not aimed at you. It's just a general statement about how fandom works. All are welcome, but all do not need to directly interact. Curating your fandom experience is important self care. Blocking someone isn't some sort of value judgement. It's just sometimes a thing you need to do in order to keep from seething when you accidentally see their asinine hot takes.
#blckwhtepersona#ml writing critical#ml writing salt#My best friend has “please read this bad book for me” privileges and uses them#But notably only for stuff she's read/is reading#She gets one a series from me because I love her that much#Her latest ask was an absolutly horrendous book called Fourth Wing and it sucked so much...#But I did have fun ranting about it with her! So it was a genuinely positive experience.#Not positive enough to get me to read the second book though#She hasn't even been able to finish it and it's been like a year now#I am much nicer to Nathalie and Lila in fic since I don't enjoy writing salt fic#But when taking about canon?#No mercy!!!
32 notes
·
View notes
Text
Whumptober #15
A/N: I'm a couple hours late on this one, but after struggling all day yesterday to get a few hundred words written, I cranked out about 2k in two and a half hours so I'm forgiving myself (:
xxx i did good, right?
They'd had a fight.
It's not unusual for Jason and Bruce to butt heads, but the one this evening was...bad. The worst in a while. The back-and-forth had gotten increasingly heated until it devolved into a shouting match. Jason knows he shouldn't have said it, but Bruce just kept pushing, even when Jason tried to walk away, and it had just kind of...slipped out.
Except, that's not quite true. Because he knew that bringing up that night, the one with the clown and the crowbar and the explosion, was certain to bring the fight to an end. It was a weapon, and he'd taken aim and pulled the trigger.
If he closes his eyes, he can still see the look on Bruce's face. The way the color had drained from him and he'd looked briefly startled, ripped open, as though Jason really had shot him. The cold, steely rage had hardened his features a second later, as Bruce pointed at the door and said—not yelled, but spoken, voice low and seething—Get out.
Jason had. He'd hopped on his bike and left without another word. The others know to give him space for at least a few days when this happens.
So Jason understands Barbara's surprise when he contacts her.
"Hood? Are you okay?"
Jason can tell by her tone that she knows about the fight. Babs always knows. They don't call her Oracle for nothing.
"You know Riverview Apartments?" Jason asks, ignoring the question.
"Yeah, there have been reports of a gas leak. They're evacuating now."
"I noticed that," Jason says, and Barbara makes a sound.
"You're there?"
"I'm in the alley on the west side of the building. I was, like, two blocks away and some kid flagged me down to help. First responders still haven't shown up. Any idea when someone will get here?"
"They're trying, but traffic is terrible with the--"
"The Knights game." Jason heaves a sigh, reaching up to pinch the bridge of his nose before remembering that he's wearing the helmet. "Right, I forgot about that."
"What's going on? Is somebody hurt?"
"There are five kids stuck on an elevator."
He glances over at the kid who'd stopped him to ask for help. The boy is probably nine or ten. His skinny arms are wrapped around himself and he's trembling, tears and snot running down his face. Apparently, the kids are on the elevator because he'd bet them that he could run down six flights of stairs and get to the bottom before them.
They were still on it when the fire alarm was pulled.
"My brother told me you helped him when he was in trouble, and now I think I'm in trouble," he'd said before explaining the situation. And then he'd broken down. "It's my fault. It's all my fault."
"I have to help him," Jason says. He half expects Babs to tell him it's dangerous, that he shouldn't go inside and that he should just wait for the fire department.
Instead she says, "There should be a Knox Box in the lobby next to the elevator, the elevator drop key will be in there with the rest.It looks like they're between the first and second floors, so the second floor is probably your best bet. Be careful."
"I will," Jason says. "I will, thank you."
He turns to the kid, dropping to a crouch. "Hey," he says. The boy turns to him with wide, watery eyes. "What's your name?"
"Ube," the kid whimpers.
"Ube," Jason repeats. He shrugs off his jacket and drapes it over the bony, shivering shoulders. "I'm gonna get your friends out of there, okay Ube?"
Ube nods, and Jason gives his hair a tousle before heading inside.
The Knox Box is exactly where Barbara said it would be. They're only supposed to be accessible to first responders, a way for them to easily get into rooms without having to break a bunch of windows and doors. Tim had figured out how to get into them, though, and Jason is grateful for that knowledge now. It only takes him a few seconds to get into it and find the elevator key, and then it's up to the second floor. The fire alarm is jarringly loud in the stairwell, and he takes the steps two at a time, grateful the he only has to go up one flight of stairs.
Even with the mask on, the sulfur-y smell is stronger on the second floor. It makes sense; the first floor is more open, and has big doors that have been opening and closing as tenants evacuate. He doesn't know how much of this stuff it's safe to breathe in, or if it made it into the elevator car with those kids. He just knows that he has to get them out of here.
He bangs on the elevator door with one fist, and startled cries erupts from inside.
"Hey!" he calls over the din. "Hey, listen, I'm here to help! I need you guys to stand back from the doors, okay?"
The volume of little voices only increases as he fits the drop key into the circular keyhole. It takes a bit of wiggling for it to work, but then there's a thunk and when Jason tries the doors, they open easily. He'd half-expected to be looking down at the top of the elevator car, but it's partway up. There's about two feet of space between the floor he's on and the ceiling of the elevator. He gets down on his belly so he can get a better look inside and is met with a chorus of screams.
"Whoa!" he says, quickly pushing himself up and taking off the helmet before lowering himself again. He peers into the elevator and smiles. "Hey, sorry about that! I didn't mean to scare you. I'm Jay, I'm here to help. Your friend Ube sent me."
"Ube did?" a little girl with a dinosaur hair-clip says, taking a hesitant step forward. Jason nods.
"Yeah. I'm going to need all of you to listen really close and do what I say, okay?"
There are nods and murmured okays.
"Which one of you is tallest?" Jason asks.
"Peter," says one kid.
"Yeah, Peter!"
"Peter?" says Jason, and a freckled kid with a mop of brown wavy hair moves toward him. He is the tallest, but with a group of kids that look to be between the ages of seven and eleven, that's really not saying much. Jason braces his right arm, the one further from the elevator, against the ground and reaches down into the elevator with his left.
"Okay, Peter, I want you to come reach as high as you can, okay?"
Peter looks terrified, but does as he's told. Even with both of them reaching toward each other, though, Jason doesn't get a great grip on Peter's arm, and he's not confident that he could lift him out. He'll barely be able to reach the other kids. He's also really not looking to dislocate any kids' shoulders today.
"You can go back with your friends," Jason says, letting go of Peter. "I'm gonna get in the elevator with you guys, give me just a second."
The gap is wide enough that he doesn't have too much trouble fitting through it, and he drops into the elevator car. It sways slightly, and one of the little girls shrieks.
"It's okay!" Jason says. "It's alright. I'm gonna lift you guys out now, okay? Once you're out, you need to go down the stairs to the lobby, and then straight outside, understand? Find your parents, and if you don't see them then stick together and wait for the police or the firefighters and they'll help you."
The two oldest are big enough the he's mostly just giving them a boost to get up and out. The other three he has to fully lift, but they're small and light and it's not too hard. The little girl with the dinosaur hair-clip is last.
"Who's gonna help you out?" she says, and Jason smiles at her.
"I don't need help," he says. "Ready?"
She nods, and he lifts her out.
Getting himself out of the elevator car is definitely more awkward than getting into it had been, and it takes a bit of trial and error before he figures out the best way to go about it. He picks his helmet up off of the floor and puts it on.
"Oracle, you there?"
"Hood! Good to hear from you. Everything going okay? The fire department should be getting there any minute, now."
"Well, that's good, but they're a little late. I already got all the kids out of the elevator. They're headed outside now."
Babs lets out a sigh of relief. "You should follow them. We won't know for sure until the professionals get in there, but from what I've been seeing it looks like it's a pretty major gas leak."
"I'm going," Jason says, reaching for the door to the stairwell. His fingers have just wrapped around the handle when there's a low, booming sound, and the ground beneath his feet shakes. He lets go of the door handle, reflexively throwing his arms out as he tries to keep his balance.
"Jay?" Babs is louder in his ear, frantic. "What was that?"
"I think--" Jason begins, and then the ground beneath him crumbles away and he's falling.
xxx
Jason can't breathe. He doesn't know why right away, just knows that his lungs are refusing to cooperate and his chest is aching. He's just starting to think he's done for when his diaphragm suddenly remembers how to do its job. He sucks in a long, gasping breath and is greeted with a sharper, brighter pain. It's the kind of pain that comes from broken ribs. What the hell...
He tries to sit up, but that makes his whole body hurt and his head swim, so he stops moving and tries to figure out what the fuck is going on. The memories come back slowly at first, fragmented and out of order. Babs yelling in his ear, the smell of sulfur, his coat hanging off the shoulders of a boy who reminds him of him, Bruce angry and shouting and stepping too close, a dinosaur hairpin – and then everything comes flooding back.
Gas leak.
Explosion.
He feels like he's gonna be sick and quickly scrambles for his helmet. Pain lances through his left forearm, so he ends up pushing the helmet off with one hand, barely getting it off before he turns to the side and pukes up bile. There's the taste of blood, too, but he's pretty sure that's from his tongue which he's bitten through. Throwing up makes the pain in his chest worse and after he's finished he just lays there a second, eyes closed, panting.
When he finally opens his eyes, it takes them several moments to adjust to the dark. Even then, he can barely see his right hand when he holds it in front of his face.
Crap.
He reaches for his helmet again on the off chance that the comms are still working. His hand lands on the smooth, rounded top of the helmet and he skims his fingers down so that he can grip the bottom edge of the helmet. As he does, his fingers find a huge crack in the back of the material and he freezes. It's almost enough to make him sick again. If he hadn't been wearing it--
He forces the thought down. So, the helmet is definitely busted then. Which means he can't call Oracle or Nightwing or anyone for help. He's on his own for this one. It's a sobering thought.
It would probably be a good idea to figure out what kind of shape he's in before he tries to move again, so he decides to take a quick inventory. His head, miraculously, isn't cracked open like an egg. He's got a headache, but he doesn't think there's any blood. There's no pain in his neck, and his right arm seems fine, minus some aching in the back of his shoulder from landing on his back when he fell. It takes a bit of hyping himself up before he checks the left side. An experimental wiggle reveals the his left shoulder is also okay, but god his arm hurts. He reaches over with his right hand, gingerly feeling the limb. He lets out a low groan as he finds a large bump in the middle of his forearm that is definitely not supposed to be there.He's already established that he has some rib fractures. Moving down his body, he doesn't really notice any abdominal pain. And his legs are...stuck.
His legs are stuck.
His heart-rate jumps up to a gallop.
"No, no, no." His voice comes out as a raw whisper as panic tightens its grip on him.
He doesn't know how he didn't notice sooner. There must be a piece of debris near him that kept the slab of concrete from crushing his legs entirely, but still, he's stuck. He closes his eyes.
I don't need help. That's what he'd told the little girl on the elevator. He'd said something to a similar effect in his fight with Bruce.
I don't need help. Why did he--does he--say that?
His thoughts begin to spiral, and it almost feels like the ground is opening up again and this time it's going to swallow him.
He doesn't hear the sound of rubble shifting.
"Jay?"
The voice reaches through the dark and grabs Jason by the front of his shirt, hauling him from the looming depths of his despair. He opens his eyes.
He smiles.
xxx
He smiles.
Jason is half-buried under the rubble of a collapsed apartment building, but when he sees Dick, he actually smiles. It makes Dick's heart ache.
"Hey, Jaybird," he says, lowering himself onto the ground next to Jason. He sets the small lamp on the ground between them so they can see each other's faces.
"Boy, am I glad to see you," Jason says. His expression shifts. "The kids. Did the kids make it out?"
"The kids from the elevator? Yeah, Jason. They're all okay."
The crooked grin returns to Jason's face. There's blood on his teeth. "I did good." He rolls his eyes up to meet Dick's. "I did good, right?"
Dick smiles back, reaching over and gripping Jason's hand on his own. "You did great." He swallows, clears his throat, swallows again. "Listen, Jay. Help is coming but, uh. It's gonna be a bit complicated."
The corners of Jason's mouth twitch downward slightly, and his forehead creases. "Complicated?"
"Yeah. The debris fell so that there's this kind of...dome around you. There's a small opening that I was able to get in through." He doesn't add that he was explicitly told not to go through said opening.He continues. "But I'm a gymnast. For the firefighters and EMTs, with all their gear? There's just no way right now. So they're going to have to move some things around, and they're gonna go as fast as they can but they've gotta be careful, or else--"
"Or else it all comes crashing down." Jason's voice is flat. He's not looking at Dick anymore.
"Right," Dick says.
Jason blinks. He looks scared. And then his face rearranges itself into something tougher, and he looks back at Dick.
"You should get out of here."
"I'm not going anywhere."
"But--"
"I'm not. Leaving," Dicks says firmly, and Jason huffs out a sigh.
"Stubborn-ass."
Dick doesn't deny it.
xxx to be continued...
#whumptober2024#no.15#“i did good right”#batfam#fic#explosion#blood#trapped#self sacrifice#<- (kinda)#angst#jason todd#dick grayson#whumptober#my writing#my fic#whump#whump fic
27 notes
·
View notes
Text
a small surprise part 3 (gravity falls g/t)
omgggggg i'm still doing this! i actually have so much written! i didn't think i'd get this far but i just can't stop. enjoy!
parts 1 and 2!
-------------------------
“Alright, shorty, where does this go?”
“Right there. In the – yeah, that one.”
“Are you sure? This doesn’t look right.”
“How would you possibly know what looks right?”
“Don’t question me! I can look at a picture and know what it’s supposed to be!”
“Diagram. It’s a diagram.”
“Psh. Whatever. S’just a word to make dumb nerds seem smarter than the rest of us.”
“Pretty sure Ford is smarter than the rest of us.”
That’s how pretty much every conversation had gone today.
The first couple of days weren’t too bad, though it was mostly spent by Stan working on something alone until he remembered Jay was there. Sometimes, he would disappear into the portal room for hours, trying to get it back on by sheer willpower.
Now, it was day five – no, six – seven? – of the portal reactivation effort, and if Jay had to put a number on it, she’d say zero progress had been made. She was trying her best to honor this truce of sorts that they made, but it was becoming increasingly difficult as the days went on, especially the ways he’d mock their size difference.
“Hey, hand me those pliers, won’tcha?” he would say, a wicked smile plastered on his face. Or he’d be sitting on the floor and pretend he couldn’t reach the table when he needed something. More than once, Jay threatened to drop something on his head, but that just seemed to make him laugh even harder.
“Oh, c’mon, I’m just teasing you, tiny,” he would say, feigning innocence, and then he’d give her a hearty poke in the back and she’d stumble forward, often half-falling and needing her hands to stop her momentum. “Don’t take it so personal!”
“Easy for you to say,” she’d mumble, rubbing whatever part of her body was now sore.
“Take it from me, kid. When life punches you, you gotta punch back. Don’t be such a pushover.”
It was almost like he was giving advice to himself as much as he was lecturing Jay. She didn’t need to be told how to survive, least of all by a giant.
Jay tried to keep her distance, offering up nuggets of wisdom where she could, but Stan was mostly dismissive of anything she had to say.
Until she actually figured something out.
He was mindlessly flipping through the journal one day when he suddenly stormed off, presumably to find a soda, or something a little stronger. Curious as to what got him so mad, Jay trotted over to the open journal and ambled onto the page, setting her hands on her hips as she read over the impossibly large display.
Jay’s eyes scanned the page dutifully, trying to pick up the little things she learned from Ford. He had shown her that equations that seemed like a random amalgamation of letters, numbers and squiggles actually had meaning when you knew what stood for what.
That’s when she spotted it. It was a large, red W – something Ford called the “weirdness coefficient.” She didn’t know exactly what it was used for, but she actually recognized the string of data that succeeded it. She followed it along, running across the page a few times to get it all in her head. She was so distracted that she never noticed Stanley enter the room, drink in hand. The loud cracking of the can’s tab snapped her back to reality.
“Ew,” Stan said, eyeing her with suspicion as he sat down. “Why are you so sweaty?”
“No! Don’t sit! You’ve gotta help me.”
“What are you talking about?”
“I think I figured something out.”
Stan nearly spit out his drink. “You? Figuring something out? Hah, sure, and I’m a millionaire.”
“Don’t act so surprised,” Jay retorted. “It’s not like you’ve done anything.”
“It’s only been a couple of days, squirt. I’m just gettin’ started.”
Jay rolled her eyes. Stan’s machismo attitude was really unmatched. “Okay, well, can you hear me out on this one?” Stan took a long sip of his soda, then nodded. “Okay, you see this here? This big W? That’s the weirdness coefficient. It’s supposed to account for the average amount of weirdness – or, anomalies – that can leak through to this dimension at any given time. So this equation here, it stipulates the maximum amount of W – weirdness – that can be allowed through P, or the portal. So, we have to make sure the leakage output doesn’t exceed this number here.” She pointed to a bold number circled in red, looking up at Stan, a little winded from all the talking.
Stan blinked. “I have no idea what you just said.”
She groaned. “It means we have to input this number,” she tapped it again for good measure, “into that machine over there.”
Stan squinted at her tiny arm pointing outward, trying to hide his amused smile. He turned around, then turned back. “How do you know that’s the right one?”
“I just know. I saw Ford using it a million times.”
“What if you’re wrong and we blow up the place?”
“Hey, if you don’t trust me, you can just say you don’t trust me.”
“Alright. I don’t trust you.”
“Okay, you weren’t actually supposed to say it,” Jay said, crossing her arms. “Come on! How can we work together if you won’t listen to me?”
Stan tapped his chin. He seemed to actually be thinking about it. “You bring up a valid point.”
“Yes, yes, I know. Now, could you put the number in?”
For the slightest moment, Stan hesitated. The inflection in her voice, and the authoritative way in which she spoke, sounded so much like Ford that it almost made him scream. Yes, yes, I know might as well have been his catchphrase. Stan tried really, really hard not to think about it, but for a nanosecond, his mind was filled with so much pain at the reminder of this little person spending so much time with Ford that she picked up on his speaking patterns that it made him want to curl up his fist and –
He stopped. Come on, Stan, you need her. You know you do. The sooner Ford is back, the sooner you’ll never have to see her again.
“Where am I putting it in, short stuff?” he finally asked. Jay tried to point him in the right direction, but even when he found the right knobs, he didn’t know how to do it correctly.
“Ugh, why don’t you just do it?” Stan sighed angrily.
Jay furrowed her brow. “This again? Are you serious?”
“Don't think this doesn't hurt my ego. But the only thing worse than having you do it is listening to you squeak about it,” Stan grumbled. “Now, c’mon, just do this so we can move on.”
Jay nervously laughed. He didn’t sound like he was joking. “Stanley, I don't know if you’ve noticed, but I can’t exactly walk over there and start pressing buttons.”
“What, I thought you wanted to be all self-sufficient? And didn’t you say you were good at climbing?”
Jay clenched her jaw. Maybe telling him little things about borrower life wasn't such a good idea. “Well, yeah, but I don’t – that would take a while, and I don’t think you want to wait. So just, listen, you just have to–”
“Nope! Not this again,” Stan declared. He took a few steps toward her and was now looming over her, hand twitching. She knew what he was about to do, but was powerless to stop it.
“Be – careful!” she yelped. She felt her arm bend uncomfortably against her body as Stan stuck his hand underneath her and lifted her into the air. She shut her eyes tight as the pressure in her head mounted. Even when they stopped moving, it didn’t feel like it.
Stan stared intently, wondering why she wasn’t moving. “Uh. You okay?”
His booming voice only made her ears ring more. It had to be 30 full seconds before she finally felt centered again. Her stomach dropped when she opened her eyes and saw just how far the ground was. Sure, she had been up higher, but the anxiety of sitting in Stan’s hand only exacerbated her unease. She never even felt 100% secure in Ford’s hand, given the way he would sometimes forget she was there. Fidds was the only one she felt remotely comfortable holding her.
“Tiny? Hello?” Stan shook his hand a bit, as if the issue was that she forgot where she was. He felt the tiniest of pressures as she pushed her palms into his, and he immediately stopped moving. Oh.
“Please – move slower,” she croaked, not even bothering to look up at him. “And don’t just pick me up without asking.”
“Yeah, sure, okay,” he said, sounding a bit dismissive. Truthfully, he was fully aware and then some about what he just did, but he didn’t want to admit that he probably fucked up. He walked the few steps over to where the control console was and stuck his arm out, holding her out in front like a platform.
“Okay, short stack. Just tell me where to move you.”
“The row of five switches with the red light up there.” Stan pointed to confirm, and she nodded. “Yeah, that one.”
She should have prepared for how fast he was going to move, but it still caught her off guard. She wanted to yell at him for not listening, but getting fresh with a giant while she was in their hand was not something she was interested in.
Stan chuckled in amusement at how much effort it took her to turn the knob, and it turned to a full-blown laugh at the way she couldn’t push one of the switches back up.
“Oh, is this funny to you?” she huffed, clearly exhausted.
“Oh, yes,” Stan grinned. “Extremely.”
“Just – flick it yourself, please,” she sighed, plopping down in his palm. His hand reflexively twitched at the movements, and he shot her a brief look. Man, she actually looks beat from that.
“Fine, fine. Let the big guy show you how it’s done,” Stan said with that smarmy smile. Jay watched incredulously at the way his arm seemed to stretch on forever from his body to the panel. It hung over her like a heavy barrier; something her weight wouldn’t even register against. He could swing his arm and knock her off his hand and he wouldn’t feel a thing.
It was even worse watching him flick the switch with ease. Sure, she had watched Ford and Fidds do crazy human things all the time, but something about the way Stan did it was different. It was almost… taunting.
“There. Now what?”
“Well, if I’m right, it should–”
Suddenly, she couldn’t speak. It was as if her entire body was frozen. A dull sensation reverberated through her, and then, pain. A loud popping sound zapped her ears and she fell backwards, landing hard on her butt, her head ringing, her body aching.
“Woah!” Stan shouted, flinching back. A small spark jumped out from the panel, but he narrowly avoided it. “Was that supposed to–” he started, but stopped. She wasn't moving. Again.
“Hey, tiny, you alright?” Nothing. “Kid?” Still nothing. She was definitely breathing, but seemed to be in a lot of pain. “Jay, you okay?”
She grit her teeth, trying to usher the pain out of her body. Luckily, it melted away after a few seconds, and even though her head was spinning, she was alright. It was no worse than being whipped around on Stan’s hand, anyway.
“I’m fine,” she finally said, though her voice almost sounded like it was glitching. She took another moment to recompose herself. “Guess it didn’t work.”
Stan almost forgot to respond. “I don’t even know what it was supposed to do.”
“It was supposed to – once you put in the W maximum, it should have calibrated a couple other systems. Thing must be fried after the portal was turned on.”
“Oh,” Stan said, pretending to understand. “So, how do we fix it?”
“I – don’t know,” Jay admitted. “I’ve never been inside there before. Not really sure what to do with the wires.”
Stan hummed, unsure of where to go from here. This was the most tangible progress they had made since forming this unlikely alliance, and it got them nowhere.
“Well, uh, if it makes you feel any better… good job.” Jay winced at the way he sounded like the words were being tortured out of him. “Figuring this thing out, I mean.”
“I got it,” Jay said, a small smile forming on her lips. Why did that compliment make her feel so… warm? “Thanks, Stanley.”
“Yeah, yeah, just don’t be expecting any more compliments from me,” he shot back, though there was no bite to it. “Don’t want you going soft on me.”
“Psh. Never in a million years,” Jay teased.
To her surprise, Stan set her down slowly on the table before burying his head back in the journal. He was only half-reading it, though, because he couldn’t get his mind off Jay. It was so contradictory – every time she did something impressive, like spout mathematical nonsense she had no business knowing, she would be rendered immobile by a slight altitude change or a small electric shock. She was so much more fragile than he thought. It was beginning to dawn on him that he actually did have to be careful, or else he might accidentally kill her. He shuddered at the thought. He couldn’t be so reckless when it came to someone’s entire life.
Not again.
Ever since then, he seemed to care a little bit more about her opinion, which confused Jay to no end, but she didn’t complain. Even if he was invasive and had no regard for her personal space, he seemed to have a... gentler air about him. Like he was trying more.
But it didn’t always show, especially when he got frustrated. They were rapidly approaching that territory right now.
“I think the red wire has to connect to the other end,” she said, glancing at the journal. “No, not that one, the other one! Right there – you keep missing it!”
Stan clenched his teeth. He was getting tired of being bossed around. “Well, if it’s so easy, why don’t you come do it?”
Jay felt her blood boil. “I hate when you say that.”
Stan grinned wildly. “I know.”
“Ugh.” Jay flopped on her back. “We’re not getting anywhere.”
“We? You’re not even doin’ anything.” Stan abandoned his rewiring effort and joined Jay at the table. “Maybe you’re reading this thing wrong.” He grabbed the journal and pulled it to him, taking Jay along with it. She yelped and held on tight as she was moved at a blinding speed from one side of the table to the other.
“C’mon, get off,” Stan began to shoo her away like a fly, and Jay quickly jumped off the book. “I gotta look at this thing.”
Jay stumbled when she landed, staring up at Stan with a disapproving look until she gave up trying to telegraph her annoyance. The worst part was he didn’t ignoring her maliciously; he genuinely didn’t care that she was there. She swallowed, her unease growing at the extended silence as Stan scanned the journal. She had been in close physical proximity to him for basically a week now, and it was unnerving. She had no idea what he was ever going to do, and the only thing stopping him from picking her up all the time was that she grossed him out. But that didn’t feel like a strong enough motivator to stop him from swiping her clean off the table if he got mad enough.
“Ugh, what am I missing?” Stan groaned. He tilted his head, along with the journal, trying to find some hidden message.
Jay marveled at the way he so easily swung the book around. “I don’t think you’re missing anything. There’s only so many ways to read it.”
“C’mon, short stack, you hung out with my know-it-all brother more than any female ever has. You gotta know something. What about these…” he narrowed his eyes, “weird secret codes?”
“Yeah, I’ve tried my best with those, but I don’t think I know enough to figure them out.”
“I’ll say,” Stan mumbled under his breath. Jay heard it, but chose to ignore it.
Stan took a moment to think. Maybe I should go to the library and find a book about this or somethin’. Hah, now I’m really thinking like Ford. But the last thing he wanted was to go into town. There had to be an answer in the journal somewhere. Where there’s a test, there’s always an answer sheet.
But first, he was going to do it his way.
“I’m gonna go shove the lever around again,” Stan announced, grabbing the tool box and disappearing into the portal room. Jay knew it was a futile effort, so while Stan got himself needlessly tired, she would go back to working on her secret project — the new hook that would buy her freedom.
At best, Stan was tolerable, and being at his mercy was giving her increasing amounts of anxiety. If she couldn’t go back for the contraptions that Fidds made her, she’d just have to do it the old fashioned way. But she only went to work when Stan was asleep or in the portal room. There was no way he could know about this.
Jay had been relegated to sleeping on the table while Stan was here. He had only gone upstairs to get food and drinks, often falling asleep right on the table and getting back to work when his own snores jolted him awake.
Thankfully, there was plenty of material to work with. Not so thankfully, none of it was a rope and a paper clip. She had already fashioned two hooks out of sharp pieces of metal, so her next step was either finding something long enough to lower her to the ground or tying a bunch of short but sturdy things together. Even a parachute could work at this rate.
Her mind flashed back to times with Ford, when they would test out her physics with paper hang gliders and makeshift obstacle courses out of rulers and tape dispensers. He went through a phase of trying to see how far a fall she could take before hurting herself, but that only lasted a week before Jay made him drop the subject. His final conclusion? “Very far.”
Evidently, though, she got too into tinkering, because she didn’t even notice when Stan walked back into the room, jacket shed and face sweaty from all the work. He watched her curiously, trying to see what exactly she was doing. Maybe she just messes with metal like it’s a toy or something. She was working on sharpening her hooks and finding heavy enough things to wrap them around when Stan cleared his throat, and she nearly shot 500 feet in the air.
“What’re you doing?” Stan asked.
“Nothing!” Jay squeaked. “I mean, not nothing nothing, I’m just – it’s –”
But Stan was no longer interested in her ramblings. He reached down and carefully pinched one of the metal hooks between his fingers, ripping it right out of her hands.
“HEY!” she yelled, but to no avail. Even if she could fight him for it, it wouldn’t have mattered, because her legs turned to jelly and her arms became numb the moment his massive fingers came next to her, filling her entire body with a sense of dread. She quickly let go to avoid being pulled up into the air.
“What is this…?” Stan turned the object, observing it intently, marveling at just how damn small it was. Jay felt sick at how miniscule her only path to freedom looked between Stan’s fingers.
“It’s nothing! Give it back!” she tried, but one glance from Stan promptly shut her up and even pushed her back a few steps. God, he’s so far away.
“Huh… you made this?” he asked, holding it out to her. She just shrugged, unwilling to answer.
Stan wouldn’t have been suspicious otherwise, but he had spent the better part of his life either around criminals or being the criminal. He knew what guilt looked like. He also knew a bad liar when he saw one. He just couldn’t figure out what she was trying to hide.
Not at first, anyway.
He tried to think: if he was that tiny, what would he need something like this for? It certainly wasn’t for fixing the portal, so what was it for? Fun? Stan didn’t know what was so fun about bent metal. Maybe she was just bored? Then there was no reason for her to act so suspicious. She would have just said so.
Then it hit him. What’s the one thing she wanted more than anything, besides getting Ford back? To be left alone. And it wasn’t like she could just walk out of the room whenever she wanted.
She had been looking for an escape since Stan found her. She was manufacturing a way out.
Stan ahh’d in realization, and the way Jay’s face went pale was all the confirmation he needed.
“Not sure how you were planning to escape with this, and I admire the effort. Really! But you can’t hustle a hustler, kid.”
Jay didn’t know what that meant, but it didn’t matter. Her heart was pounding, her breathing labored. She had no clue what was coming next.
“Look, if you don’t wanna be here, I won’t stop you. In case you haven't noticed, I’m not running a charity here. I’m trying to get my brother back, and I can’t seem to figure out if that’s really what you want or not.” He callously tossed the metal back to her, and she scrambled out of the way as it clanged a few inches from her. “So scram, alright? Get outta here.”
Jay blinked. He was… really going to let her go like that? She didn’t believe him. Humans didn’t do that. They never did. They’d always be back.
But that part didn’t even matter, because she did want Ford back. Even with the threat of opening the portal, she wanted her best friend back more than anything. She just really, really hated working with his irritating brother, and she didn’t know how to deal with him. The only people she had ever dealt with this closely were Ford and Fidds. She wasn’t used to anything else. She couldn't handle anything else.
“I’m – I’m not trying to – to leave,” Jay stammered. God, that sounded so pathetic. “I just – need some freedom, that’s all.”
A light went off in Stan’s head. “You can’t leave, can you?”
Jay raised an eyebrow. “Of course I can leave–”
“No, not this room, this house. You don’t want to leave here. There’s nowhere else for you to go.”
“I–” Jay started, but she had no words. He was right. He was right, damn it! He saw her as this helpless little thing, and he was right.
“Huh, so the squirt that thinks she’s better than me needs me to keep her safe. Right?”
“I don’t – I don’t think I’m better than you!” Jay said, but it didn’t sound convincing. And she didn’t even try and dispute the other point.
Stan’s face scrunched up. “Huh, you sure act like it. Well, squirt, you may need me, but I don’t need you. If you disappeared right now, I wouldn’t waste my energy lookin’ for you, because I’m the one who actually cares about fixing this damn thing and saving Ford!”
Jay knew fighting back would be a bad idea. It had never, ever worked before. But she couldn’t take the constant antagonizing. She just couldn’t.
“Stop acting like I don’t want him back, either!” Jay blurted. Stan looked at her in surprise, but it was too late. The floodgates were open. She was tired of hearing this. “It’s just – it’s dangerous! And there’s only so much I can do!”
“Yeah, and you do a pretty terrible job! Half the time you sit there and mock me for not knowing the “difference” between a picture and a diagram! And there isn’t even a difference!”
“There is!”
“See! You’re just like Ford, always talking down to me, acting like I’m just some – bumbling idiot who can’t possibly be on his level.”
“That’s not true!” Jay asserted. “I don’t think you’re an idiot!”
“Well you certainly fooled me!”
“You’re just – so stubborn!” Jay was nearing the edge of the table now. “You ask for my help, and yet you can’t even fathom that I would know something you don’t!”
“Maybe I’d listen to you more if you weren’t so damn tiny! I’m taking orders from someone who can’t even walk up the stairs by herself!”
Jay’s eyes widened in shock. Oh, so that was it. Of course it was. How could she think it was anything else? Her heart was racing now, her stomach churning. How could she respond? Why did she ever think she could fight a giant?
“And you act like you’re so much better because you were best friends with him,” Stan sneered, placing particular mocking emphasis on that part. “He’s MY brother! MY family! He probably only talked to you because you’re – weird and small and he felt bad! You’re just a thing, an experiment for him to get all excited about! He never cared about you!”
Jay knew responding would be a bad idea, but her lips moved faster than her brain. “Oh yeah? He didn’t even want to think about you! I didn’t even know you existed until you showed up here! Maybe if you weren’t such a lazy freeloader, he would–”
It was at that moment her life flashed before her eyes.
#the suspense!!!#and the rewrites i did for this entire part...#ended up having to split it in two#my downfall is trying to make things as realistic as possible#which is definitely achievable when writing about four inch tall people#gravity falls g/t#gravity falls#g/t#giant/tiny#obwrites
32 notes
·
View notes
Text
Crossing The Line | Part 4
“What the fuck is that?” Was Robins immediate question as Steve donned a pair of sunglasses and a cap just before disembarking the plane.
“My disguise.”
“Your disguise?”
“Yeah, y’know. Fans an stuff.”
“...Steve. Steven. I’m always here to keep you humble, you know this, so I say this with an immense amount of—”
“Robin do you remember the JFK incident? Not the president don’t be a shit, I mean the airport and you know it.” The JFK incident being a single fan who got ONE photo of him walking through the terminal and boom, paparazzi everywhere, it was as though they’d just emerged from the walls.
‘What are you doing in New York?’
‘Are you visiting anyone special this Christmas?’
‘When are you releasing new music?’
‘Will you be attending any events here in the city?’
‘Who are you wearing right now?’
‘STEVE SIGN MY TI—’
It was always chaos. “Yeah yeah you got to sign an impressive set of double D’s, woe is you. I can see your moles Steve, that isn’t going to fool anyone with eyes.” Sure his signature head of hair was covered but the moles were as good a sign as any when it came to eagle eyed Airport celeb spotters.
“Sign an impressive— my ass was grabbed more times than I could count! I had hand sized bruises Robin!” He bruised like a peach and people in crowds were grabby. “I lost my favourite sunglasses.” The cheap pair he’d grabbed from the gas station after his first real paycheque cleared. “These cover my hair and my eyes, I can’t cover anything else.” He didn’t have the resources to pull a full face of SFX to hide himself.
“Aww poor baby, okay. At least put this on.” She pulled the scarf from her neck and wrapped it around his, it wouldn’t do much, but it’d cover the vampire bite moles he’d shown off on one of his early album covers.
“Great I look like a twenty-ten hipster.” It wasn’t even scarf weather. “All I need is a bullshit moustache.”
“Better than the local weirdo at a kids playground.”
“Oh my god, is that Steve Harrington?!”
“Shit.”
“Rest in pieces, sis”
“Robin get back here!”
There was a subtle art in getting away from paparazzi and fans alike, an art cultivated from being chased by them since he was nine. It involved fake plants, bathrooms, and Robins impressive gallery of ‘fake fan photos’. All it took was a photo whizzed over the internet through Robins ‘fan’ account, an account which used one of their regular makeup girls photos as a cover (agreed to, of course) to act as a ‘fan’ of Steve Harrington.
“How come nobody TOLD ME Steve Harrington was going to be flying out of Indy today?!” Captioned above a photo from two years prior that Robin took from a distance at that very airport for that very reason.
It took all of five minutes for the hoard to dispel, hurrying as fast as they could to as far as the airport staff would allow them to go, but Robin and Steve were once again free to get their asses out of that airport and into an Uber before anyone else could spot them.
“Okay, battle plan. I got us a twin room at the—"
“Don’t say Conrad.”
“What’s wrong with the Conrad?”
“It’s… bougee. It’s like the only five star in Indy, he already probably thinks I’m the worst, a nice four star would be fine, and a twin room? Robin how the hell am I supposed to woo a guy and bring him back to the hotel if we’re sharing a room?”
“First of all, I think you’re super overestimating your level of game right now to think that you’d just be able to go from wooing to the hotel room in one sweep this guy seems like highkey mom’s basement dwelling virgin, dude probably scampers, second, we don’t even know if he enjoys the male form, and third... honestly I’m expecting you to strike out so we can have a sleepover with facemasks and chocolates. But fine, fine, what hotel would you like?” Robin passed him her phone with the booking app already loaded.
“Your faith in me is truly what gets me through my days, Robin.” He was choosing to ignore the panic inducing idea of what if he isn’t even into guys?!
“I aim to please.”
“What about an apartment? See there’s one here, two double bedrooms, four star rating, we can book now and grab the keys at reception.”
“Fine, fine, you’re making all the food though, since you’ve robbed me of my five star room service.”
“I’m cool with that.” A few buttons pressed, details auto filled, booking complete. Indianapolis, here they come!
Part 6
522 notes
·
View notes
Text
Unexpected Encounters
Here you go @zutaralesbian!! I hope it's what you're looking for!
///
“I found a love, for me....”
Under the dimmed lights, standing nearby the open bar, Fiona Gallagher let out a soft sigh as she took a drink from her beer. On the dance floor, Ian encircled his arms around Mickey to hold him tight, swaying to the song. As if no one else existed, the rest of the world fading away, there they were; it was only them, eyes closed to take in this moment, reveling in the start of a new chapter in their life.
And it was fucking beautiful.
For so long, she’d been searching for that kind of love and each time she thought she just might, it was viciously taken from her in some way. Bitter memories of Jimmy-Steve and Sean came to the surface, to which she drowned them out with a large gulp of beer.
Nothing seemed to be going for her. Not with her love life, not with her life in general.
Moving out to Florida was supposed to be a fresh start for her. She’d envisioned so much, only for it all to fall short. The felony on her record made it difficult to find a good paying job, let alone her lack of college diploma. She’d found a decent apartment to live in, the first night giving her this sudden feeling of loneliness that hit her.
Little had changed in her life other than not not taking care of a house full of kids.
And the thing is, she assumed she’d be happier that way. In some was, she was; it was easier to live, easier to breathe when she didn’t have five kids dependent on her, worryin’ about how she’ll pay the bills or if they’ll have enough food to eat. But in other ways, she didn’t know what to do with herself. It wasn’t like she wanted all of that responsibility again. It was just really fuckin’ complicated.
Now here she was, back in her childhood home, crashing on the couch until she could find a place for herself. All while her younger siblings had moved on with their lives, coming out more successful than she was capable of being.
She blew out a breath, eyes shifting to see Vee and Kev at one of the tables, laughing with some other guests. She’d been meanin’ to to tell her that they needed to catch up soon. Fiona missed her best friend a lot in the time that she’d been away. Down in Florida, Fiona had some acquaintances, maybe even a couple people she’d call friends. But nothing ever compared to what she and Vee had.
Fiona shook off the nostalgia that came over her. There was no use in dwelling on it, especially today. This was about Ian and Mickey, and she’d be damned if she let herself ruin this occasion for her brother and brother-in-law.
Brother-in-law. It was hard to comprehend that, to think that the very same boy who used to terrorize the Southside was now married into the family.
Her lips tugged up into a smile as the song came to an end. Ian and Mickey were holding onto each other’s faces as they had been earlier, leaning in for a kiss.
She was happy for them. There’d been times she was unsure about Mickey, hell, even times she thought he wasn’t good enough for her little brother. But Mickey had proved himself and shown just how much he cared for Ian, going above and beyond what she’d expect from anybody when they dealt with Ian’s bipolar diagnosis together.
As a new song came on, one of the tables closest to her was empty, so she took a seat, leaning back with her legs crossed. Her eyes flittered around the room, catching sight of her other siblings. In some ways, it was kind of sad to see them so grown up, engrossed in their own issues and having their own lives when she still remembered their bright eyes, chubby cheeks and sweet smiles.
And where did that leave Fiona? They didn’t need her like they used to. Hell, she couldn’t even find herself needed elsewhere. To some extent, it felt like they all moved on while she was stuck behind, trying to claw her way out and make it in the world.
Out of her peripheral, a figured moved closer to her but there were lots of people around so she didn’t think too much of it until the person was right there, his hand on the back of one of the chairs.
“Ay, you mind if I sit here?” Iggy Milkovich asked her, and it was the very last person she expected to see there - at the wedding and asking to sit at the same table as her - so she did a double take.
Fiona knew very little of Iggy Milkovich. At one point in time, they were in the same grade, dropping out for different reasons. She’d seen him around the Southside here and there but it’s not like they’ve ever really had a conversation.
It came as a pretty big fucking surprise to Fiona that he was here. She certainly didn’t expect any Milkovich, well maybe besides Mandy, to attend a gay wedding. But here and there were scattered relatives of Mickey’s around the venue; Colin was doing his best to sweet talk a girl on the other side of the dance floor, Joey and Jamie were swiping frosting off the back of the cake with their fingers - and by now Mickey had noticed, reaching into his pocket for a knife that Ian swiftly plucked out of his hand - while Mandy was dancing with Sandy and Debbie.
What’s more, though, was that Fiona was struck by how roguishly handsome he looked. He was dressed nice with the tie in disarray, hair that was neatly combed and for once, didn’t give off the impression that he was high.
“Iggy,” she said, surprised.
“Hey, Fiona,” he was grinning, holding onto his own beer. “Thought I saw you around here earlier.”
“Yeah,” she pushed back some hair off her shoulder, suddenly remembering what he’d asked. “Have a seat,” she gestured towards the chair.
He plopped down in it, one arm hanging off the back. “Thought you moved outta here,” he said, taking a swig of his drink.
“I did,” she nodded, trying not to feel too disappointed when she thought of it, “it just didn’t work out.”
“So you’re back now?”
“Yeah,” she said. “I’m crashing at the house for now until I can get my own place.”
“Ain’t Mick and Red stayin’ there too?”
“Yeah,” she grimaced at the amount of times, too damn often, when she’d overhear them fucking.
Iggy was looking past her, right at Ian and Mickey. “I feel sorry for anyone that's gotta hear them two bastards going at it. Had to listen them fucking for a while when we lived together.”
“Shit, I’m sorry,” she laughed. She understood his pain. The Gallagher house had thin walls, too fucking thin if she could hear the damn names her brother and Mickey called each other in bed. God, just the thought made her want to shudder.
Iggy was grinning some more. That could’ve been from the situation or he was just drunk. “Walked in on them once too. Thought Mickey was gonna flip his shit.”
“Oh, God,” Fiona could just imagine that. She drank some more beer to rid herself of any images that might be conjured up.
“Wasn’t my fault, though. Mick left the door unlocked,” Iggy shrugged. “Course, he didn’t care. Probably woulda tried to knock my teeth in if Gallagher hadn’t stopped him.”
“Can’t be any worse than when Lip walked in on them,” Fiona remembered that one. Mickey had been murderous. Lip had been pinned under him with his throat covered by Mickey’s hands.
Lip hadn’t been pleased with the casual tone in which Ian spoke in when he’d called his husband off of him.
Iggy snorted. He was watching them again. “Can you believe those fuckers made it here?”
“No,” she said honestly. She let out a breath. “But I’m happy for them. They deserve it.”
“Yeah,” Iggy said. “I remember when Gallagher was living with us. Mick was so protective of him.”
“Same way at our house,” Fiona remembered those days. He would’ve broken somebody’s kneecaps if they uttered a single word against her brother. Even now, now that she’s back and seen their love first hand again, he would do anything for Ian and vice versa.
Silence came over them both. Fiona repositioned herself, crossing the opposite leg this time. Strangely, though, she didn’t have this urge to get away like she would have assumed from being near a Milkovich.
“I’m kind of surprised you’re here,” she admitted.
He turned to her, blinking. “Why?”
She raised a brow. “Do you really have to ask?”
For a couple of seconds, he stared at her with this dumb expression. Then it dawned on him. “Oh, his gay thing. I don’t give a shit where he sticks his dick. Kinda suspected ‘bout him anyway.”
“Really?” Fiona couldn’t help but ask.
“Yeah. Never used to talk about tits and shit with us and was all secretive about his porn,” Iggy replied. “Figured it out pretty quickly when I saw ‘em kiss.”
“You saw them kiss?”
“Yeah, the day Mick got shot in the ass. Don’t think he ever found out I saw ‘em.”
“And you never told anybody?” Fiona said, blown away.
“Course not,” Iggy said with a shrug. “I ain’t stupid. Terry woulda killed him. Mick woulda definitely flipped his shit. I just had to pretend I didn't see anything. Course, then the dumbass decides to say something in front of the whole damn bar. Nearly did get himself killed.”
He sounded fondly exasperated, a feeling she’d felt from time to time for sure, not anything she’d expect from a Milkovich, especially concerning his brother’s sexuality.
Maybe she was wrong about him, about the family- some of them, anyway.
Iggy kept Mickey’s secret when he didn’t have to, not to mention willingly lived with them for a while. Plus, his siblings and a couple of his cousins made it here today. Would they really have done it if they were anything like Terry?
Iggy was oblivious to what she was thinking, just drinking the rest of his beer without a care in the world.
“So,” she said, to which he looked back at her, “what are you doing these days?”
Jesus, that was lame as fuck.
Iggy didn’t seem to think so. “Not much,” he shrugged. “Gotta find me a new job. My PO’s gettin’ pissy about it.”
“I have to find one too,” Fiona sighed. “I was working in a hotel down in Florida but I can’t see myself doin’ it again. Too many bitchy customers.”
Iggy snorted. “Fuck that. Would’ve quit the first time that happened.”
“I considered it some days,” she said truthfully. There was only so much she could take of being screamed at and unfairly blamed for things that weren’t her fault. “But I have to take what I can get. There’s not a ton of places that want to hire felons.”
She used to feel bitter over it. Used to feel consumed by such anger towards herself for how she’d so carelessly endangered her little brother and ruined her life in a blink of an eye.
It wasn’t something easy to share either. Unsurprisingly, the one guy she decided to be upfront about it and explain to him, he thought it was better if they went their separate ways.
Iggy didn’t blink an eye. “Ain’t that the truth,” he said, unfazed. “You know, I had to work at a fuckin’ flower shop once cuz my PO couldn’t find me anything else. Should’ve heard this bitch telling me I couldn’t bring any fucking weapons inside. This is the fuckin’ Southside. I’m supposed to walk around without my glock?”
“You mean the one you’re not supposed to have while on parole?” She smirked.
“Ay, what my PO don’t know won’t hurt him,” Iggy said dismissively.
She snorted. “Good point.”
Flashes of multi-colored shadows fell over their faces, bouncing away the next second. Iggy’s eyes strayed away from where they’d been glancing to look at her, keeping her under a watchful gaze.
“You want another beer?” He said unexpectedly.
“Sure,” she said.
When he brought it back, he said, “Ay, let’s go outside. It’s getting too damn noisy in here.”
This was where under any other circumstances she would’ve declined, but Fiona found herself not completely put off by the suggestion. “I would,” she said, “but I don’t know where my jacket’s gone...”
She wasn’t lying. Fiona had taken it off when she arrived and now it was nowhere to be found.
“I got you,” Iggy said. Fiona wondered how he was going to manage that when he hollered at the top of his lungs - though the music was still loud enough that it drowned him out somewhat. “Ay, fuckwads! Get her-” He pointed straight at Fiona, who muttered out, “Oh, Jesus,” under her breath, “a jacket before I start cracking skulls.”
“That’s really not necessary- oh,” Fiona was thrown a black suit jacket by someone she didn’t recognize.
“You’re welcome,” Iggy said, chugging one of the beers in his hands.
“You couldn't have just given me yours?” Fiona said mildly, a teasing smile on her lips.
“Fuck no. I’m not freezing my ass off,” Iggy scoffed. He smirked, though.
Abandoning the reception, they went past the doors and out into the cold. Fiona shivered, folding her arms across her chest. They stayed within the parking lot and there was just something about that reminded her of when she used to sneak off with a couple of friends she had many years ago, just hanging around and feeling carefree before everything went to shit.
For now, neither one of them said anything. It wasn’t that Fiona was feeling shy or anything, that wasn’t like her, but it was just different that's all.
So she spoke up first.
And it just so happened to be her going down memory lane.
“Do you remember that fucking awful English teacher we had freshman year?” She said suddenly. “Mrs- fuck, what was her name? Mrs. Melvin or whatever. God, I hated her.”
“Wasn’t she the bitch that quit halfway through class?” Iggy said with a grin.
Fiona laughed. “Oh my God, I remember that. Nobody was listening to her and she threatened to send us all to the office if we didn’t shut up.”
“Ay, yeah. Had a fuckin’ fit when that one guy, Rubin, shot a spit ball at her,” Iggy said, paused and added, “The fuck kinda name is Rubin anyway? S’fuckin’ stupid.”
They both laughed, and when it died down, Fiona was marveling over the fact once again that here she was, socializing with a Milkovich and she was having a pretty nice time.
“Do you-” Fiona thought about what she was asking, deciding to go on with it, “do you ever think about what you would’ve done if you graduated?”
She had no idea why she chose to bring this up here right now. The question had been on her mind lately, not just this second, wondering just how different her life would be if Frank and Monica were decent parents, if she didn’t have to be the one to step up for her siblings.
“No.”
“No?” Fiona repeated, surprised.
“Nah. Wouldn’t have mattered. Terry woulda screwed it up anyway.”
He was honest about it, resigned, and didn’t sound upset. It made Fiona stop and think, making way for an ache in her chest, about how none of them were ever given a chance to be something, to make something of themselves. They were constantly held back by their shitty parents, shitty situations that they shouldn’t have had to deal with at their age.
“What about you?” Iggy’s voice brought her back to the present.
“What?”
“You ever think about it?” He sounded curious, not just him asking out of polite obligation. Than again, she couldn’t really picture him or any of the Milkovich’s acting out of politeness.
“Sometimes,” she smiled slightly. Dropping out of school was the hardest decision she had to make for herself, even though it was ultimately what saved them. Though, she couldn’t deny that for weeks after, she’d been plagued with a bone deep sense of sadness. She’d used to dream, used to hope of getting out of the Southside someday with a degree tucked under her belt and a decent job. Those dreams never looked unrealistic until she finally realized the depth of Frank and Monica’s bullshit.
While other people her age were out partying, rebelling against their parents or figuring out what they wanted to do in life, Fiona was preoccupied in other ways; whether they’d have enough for the bills this month, how they’d get food on the table for all of them, whether Frank or Monica were going to come home when they left for long stretches of time.
Iggy lit a cigarette, offering it to her. She took it, her smile still intact.
“You know, I thought I had everything going for me at one time; grades were good, I was doing track. And then it was just gone,” she sighed. “I thought if I got out of here, things would be different. Seems like the bullshit just followed me.” As Fiona was passing back the cigarette, she had an oh shit moment. Was she really spilling her guts to him? “Shit. Forget I said all that.”
He shrugged. “Where’d you run off to anyway?”
“Florida.”
“Ay, at least you got out. S’more than most can say.”
She supposed that was true. “That’s surprisingly insightful,” she was teasing, only gently.
He puffed up his chest. “I can be that way if I wanna.” All kidding aside, he knocked into her shoulder with his own. “Ain’t nothin’ wrong with comin’ back.”
“Even with no job and I’m sleepin’ on the couch?” She deadpanned.
“Been there,” he said, then considered, “Course, I usually find some chick to shack up with.” She let out a laugh, shaking her head. “I slept out on those streets one night and it ain’t all it’s cracked up to be.”
“Haven’t been there yet, thank God.”
“Like all those Gallaghers would toss you out,” Iggy piffed. She had to agree. “Course if they do, left side my bed could use some warmin’.”
He winked at her.
Fiona turned her body to face him, plucking the cigarette from him. “Is that right? Who says I wanna be the one to warm it?”
“Don’t play dumb, Gallagher,” Iggy was closer now, having invaded her personal space. “Saw the way you were looking at me earlier.”
The cigarette was dropped to the ground, put out by the bottom of her shoe.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Fiona said slyly.
Just a second later, her arms around his neck and his on her waist, Fiona was engaged in a fucking hot makeout with Iggy Milkovich.
It was needy, full of fire she’d been searching for. God, even Iggy’s touch was making her weak.
“Holy shit,” she muttered. He grinned cockily.
“You seein’ anyone right now?”
“And I’m if I’m not?” She said instead of answering his question.
“How ‘bout you come to my place tonight?”
Fiona grinned. "Better be a damn good bed. My back's been killing me on that shitty couch."
She didn’t come here expecting to find herself in a Milkovich.
But Fiona was damn glad she did.
21 notes
·
View notes
Note
something i love about spy family is that its a very funny manga, but it isn't afraid to be serious and talk about serious things (and its also really good at transitioning between the two)
Tatsuya Endo has an amazing grasp of balance. There are a lot of posts going around about how Spy x Family goes from something as heavy as "war makes monsters of us all" to something as silly as "Anya finds Loid's tourist fashion choices lame" and it somehow works.
It's one of the things that made me fall in love with the story from the second if not the very first episode of the anime. It dares to be realistic about how war impacts humans and how it takes them into a path they wouldn't normally take, but at its core it's a story filled with humor and love and connection, because this is how humans are supposed to live like. I mean, not to break it down to a "live laugh love" moral, but at the end of the day it does prioritize people living happily together and in peace. Even the "enemy" is shown in a sympathetic light from time to time.
And the humor and silliness attributes to that. It makes the story light-hearted despite the heavy issues it tackles. It would be hard to find hope in a story that focuses only on those heavy issues, if its vibe was constant grittiness and violence and dark themes. Not that there's anything wrong with stories with such themes; but you wouldn't usually watch such a story and expect to feel full of hope afterwards, nor expect it to have the humor that SxF has.
What is amazing is how Endo manages the balance of it all. How he works in the silliness amidst an environment of a cold war, of hardened spies and assassins, because it would be very easy to veer right into tone-deaf cheesy territory that gives you (unintentional) emotional whiplash. I think it's due to how the characters are only slightly exaggerated versions of something you'd see in real life. Anya behaves as any five-year-old would, where her focus is to work in protection of peace, make sure the family won't break apart, and above all, have fun. Yor's view of the world has been impacted by how long she's worked as an assassin, but her "naivete" is mostly her tendency to see good in everyone, even the "bastards" she's sent to kill. Twilight keeps telling himself everything he does is "for the mission" but he's only human and can't help bonding with his family even if he doesn't realize it.
The characters may behave in an exaggerated way from time to time, but they're not caricatures. The humor and ridiculousness (affectionate) in their actions are based on real human traits and behaviours we can see in real life. The want to have fun, the tendency to see the good in people, the desire to love. Endo simply takes those and has three people whose special traits clash with those three mentioned traits. Anya grew up as a science experiment in a lab where she wasn't allowed to have fun, so now that she has people who care for her emotional growth she goes all out with fun activities. Yor was forced into the choice of becoming an assassin, having to be told "This person is BadTM so you play judge jury and executioner", but with Yuri being her motivation (and later on the Forgers too) she managed to keep her kind heart. Occasionally she can't control her monstrous strength and may also consider killing people who inconvenience her and then go like "Yo wtf chill maybe". Twilight became a spy and distanced himself from human connections, but now that his job brought him into the position of staying long term with a kid and a wife and a dog, his desire for such a connection is rearing its persistent head. And so you get a Professional Master SpyTM playing "Rescue Princess Anya from the Evil Clutches of Count Scruffy Head".
It's the contrast that makes the humor of it all, and in such a way that it never takes only one character's side. I think that also adds to the "flexibility" of the story. It's easier to connect to a story when there's multiple sides explained and understood by the audience; and I mean, the only thing the story looks to be trying to "convince" you of is that humans live best when they live in peace and surrounded by people they love, and that's an undeniable fact of human nature. The characters can and do make mistakes but they're shown to be able to grow from them, and even someone radicalized and extremist like Yuri has understandable motives and a very human nature - just one that was taken advantage of by people in power.
Overall yeah, I think it's how focused on the characters' humanity the story is that it makes the balance between humor and heavy issues work. Again, though it can be exaggerated at times, it's not a caricature or slapstick, just for the sake of making the audience laugh. There's a depth and a genuine reaching out for the audience's emotions and understanding.
(Anime only fan here, don't spoil me for the manga 😁)
#ask and ye shall receive#commieorcs#this probably got too deep lmao#but yeah I do love this aspect of the story so much#and Endo deserves the praise for balancing it all out so masterfully#Spy x Family#sxf meta
70 notes
·
View notes
Text
fic rec friday 49
hello and welcome to fic rec friday! where, on friday, i rec five of my favourite fics.
it's not enchanted without you by @adelfie
He rolls his shoulders back and shifts into his wolf form. He’s all dark fur and lupine when he raises his head again. Like this, he can match Lance’s height — head to tail. Not that it’s a competition. But still. -- In an enchanted forest, wolf shifter Keith and merperson Lance are best friends. They're not supposed to be. (Or, a cute kid fic in which Keith and Lance both have swishy tails and Shiro is Strict™)
could have sworn i recced this one already. anyways. this is SO CUTE, baby klance always is, but like the whole forbidden friendship trope is so....little keith dragging his friend along in a wagon so they can run together. weeping
2. what the deep night brings by @adelfie
Lance wakes up feeling uneasy and Keith comforts him.
cute klance piece. it's all anyone ever needs. keith being lance's comfort both because lance finds him comforting and keith wants to comfort him. SIGH
3. Gentron Day 2: Childhood Friend by sunshinehime
"Hey! Wanna play with me?" A simple question hangs in the air. The boy in front of him holds out his hand, blue eyes sparkling like the ocean on a sunny day. His wide grin reveals a few gaps where baby teeth used to be. He can barely look him in the eye and his old habit of stuttering his words rears its ugly head again. He expects the boy to get annoyed with him and leave in a huff. But it seems this day is full of surprises.
lance & hunk is so everything to me actually. and lance shamelessly flirting with hunk can be so personal. i just love them having the longest friendship known to man and literally being cosmically connected like they're so
4. fighting the surface by @tomminowrites
“Humans have shown quite the impressive drive for survival,” the Galra commander grins. “I want to see you fight against that. The druids claim drowning is quite the painful way to go." He tips Lance backward over the water, as Keith and Shiro struggle against their bonds. "If you surface, they die.” Lance’s eyes widen and he's pushed backward with a splash. ______ Keith, Shiro, and Lance are taken captive during a mission planet-side. The commander decides he only needs two paladins for interrogation, and decides to have a little fun while they wait for extraction. Lance is thrown into the deep with the threat that if he swims up for air, one of the other two will be shot. Obviously Lance would rather die than allow that. Later chapters will, of course, deal with Keith and Shiro losing their damn minds thinking Lance just drowned himself for them.
now this is a CLASSIC. truly. i remember talking about this fic out loud with a friend bc that was normal back then. god. anyways this fic was like THEE bamf lance fic for a WHILE and like the blue & lance dynamics are AMAZING. remember when water power lance was all the rage?? i do and so does this fic. lance shooting people between the eyes RIGHTS
5. Paladin of Water by SimplyVibing
"Well, say your goodbyes.” The Triq’en laughed and tossed Lance over the edge of the cliff. __________________________ In the middle of battle, the paladins realise two things : 1- Lance is very helpful in a fight. 2- There's more to which lion you pilot than they thought.
i will never ever in my life get tired of lance just absolutely tearing bitches up. power making him glow. just popping up from being half dead and going oh you thought you could actually kill me?? you stupid motherfucker?? try again
that’s it for today!! i’ll see y’all back next friday for the next fic rec post!!!
#i just love lance tearing shit up#vld#voltron#lance#lance mcclain#keith#keith kogane#klance#shiro & lance#broganes#hunk#hunk garrett#hunk & lance#kid lance#kid keith#bamf lance#langst#keith angst#shiro angst#fic rec#fic rec friday#longpost
90 notes
·
View notes
Text
Augusnippets Day 17: Resolution
cw: loss of a friend, grieving
for the @augusnippets challenge // word count: 659
=~=~=
Monty could hardly believe it when everyone showed up.
It had been five years since the team was disbanded, and a lot could change in five years. He still kept in touch with everyone else, more or less, and they'd all seemingly adjusted well. Moved on, grown past the past.
But the team hadn't reunited because Monty had asked nicely. It was because everyone still felt the loss.
He certainly did.
No one had taken the time to talk about what happened when it happened; they were all a bunch of dumb kids playing dumb games, left to grapple with feelings too big to hold when everything suddenly got real.
Tom hadn't shown them the footage, but the way his voice shook when he told them what happened, the look on his face… Monty knew it must've been awful. And none of them had been able to stop it. None of them had been able to save him.
Sen was the first to show up. They'd all agreed to meet in the park. Near the facility they'd trained in, but not too close.
“Hey,” he greeted them. “Been a while.”
“Yeah.” They nodded, their expression pensive, like they didn't know what to say next. Did any of them? How did you swallow something like this, even after so long? How could you have a team reunion when it was supposed to be five of you, not four?
Faye and Emery made their appearance a few minutes after Sen, hand in hand. They’d started dating after the team was discontinued, taking comfort in one another. Something about shared experience, about being one of just a few people who understood. Monty was glad to see they were still together, but he couldn't help the pang that came at the sight of them.
He could've been holding someone's hand too, if only…
“How do we start?” Emery was the first to speak, after the four of them spent a good several minutes in silence, staring at the grass where they used to take lunch breaks, or study, or spar.
“What can you say?” Faye murmured. “He's gone. There’s nothing we can do.”
“Only remember,” Emery offered.
“Remembering hurts.”
“Don't we owe him that much?” Monty’s own voice, thick with a tremor, almost surprised him. The others gave him looks he might've called pitiful, if they weren't all suffering the same loss.
“He was… he was always the one who pushed us to keep trying,” he continued. “Never just gave up and called it quits when things got tough in training. That's how I remember him.”
Sen nodded. “He would've made a good leader. I know we always said there was no leader, but it would've been him.”
“He didn't hold grudges,” Faye added with a short laugh. “I… I was kind of a bitch to him for the first month, and he still just… welcomed me into the group. Y'know. He was—” Her voice broke. She covered it with a cough. “He was a good guy.”
“He was a giant nerd,” Emery said. “Remember how much he used to talk about Dungeons and Dragons?”
“Oh my gosh, don't get me started—”
“He was always saying he'd run a campaign for us one day.”
“Remember the one story from his highschool campaign he always used to tell? About the rat in the cellar that just wouldn't die?”
“It just wouldn't die.”
Soon they were laughing past their tears, the somber air dissolving into recounted memories. It was better this way, wasn't it? How remembering was supposed to be?
“Maybe we should get a campaign started,” Emery said. “I can run it if you guys want.”
“Yeah.” Faye wiped away tears with the back of her hand. “Yeah, I think we should.”
Emery threw an arm around her shoulder. Sen joined in the hug, already crying again. After a moment, Monty joined too.
“Look at us, becoming nerds. I think Ander would be proud.”
#those he trusted those he loved and those who then moved on. or something like that#augusnippets day 17#resolution#augusnippets#loss of a loved one#angst#this world is getting too big#edit: just realized i wrote the prompt down wrong and it was meabt to be 'resolving a misunderstanding' 😭😭 opps#well there's resolution AND a misunderstanding 😶
23 notes
·
View notes
Text
episode 5 review! as always my dear friends, long post ahead, and remember i wrote this while i was watching and was sleepy. enjoy a piece of my mind love u ☀️💕
the smallfolk ‘caring’ for meleys as if rhaenys hadn’t killed thousands of their own a few weeks ago. ‘rhaenyra will answer this’ be fr. you should be grateful your cousin was avenged. or they kinda forgot about the dragonpit idk
now this is the kind of gruesomeness i wanted for aegon’s wounds. hear me out: he has shown his commitment to his cause. he bled and burned for the realm. only his wounds prevented him from ruling, and it won’t be permanent.
also is it me or his wounds are in the wrong side? i know in the books he’s supposed to have the right ride of his body burned, but in last episode we see aegon’s right facing vhagar’s fire. condal answer pls
i fucking hate aemond. he sees his brother, his king, in the verge of death and all he cares is about power. book aemond would never.
gotta love rhaenyra’s 🧐❓ face in the council. she’s not prepared for this she’s so confused i love emma’s faces lol
lmao a valid concern of lord broome is dismissed as MysoGYNy. daemon left because rhaenyra allowed it, she’s not attending council, she ignores problems, she doesn’t know how to act. his complaints are valid, rhaenyra should be grateful he’s giving advice and loyalty instead of demanding praise in top of all.
now this is ridiculous. canon rhaenyra was out of question for battle because she was resting after a terrible miscarriage (which is one of the only points i give her: she was doing what was best) but are we supposed to believe that eeeevery time miss rhae wanted to go to battle and eeeeevery time her council dissuaded her? 💀
baela sidelined and admitting she’s being used as a shield for jacaerys, accepting that. consoling her fiancé instead of being consoled for the lost of her grandmother. girlie has red eyes from crying but she still has to center a man.
‘the brackens are from the seven hells’ aren’t you a follower of the old gods? be consistent.
daemon of all people being ‘diplomatic’ 😭
looool lady jeyne complaining that the dragons she got from shein aren’t the right size. well babe if you sent two baby dragons i’ll sent my 15k swords with a 2 year delay. fair game.
we got a scene of rhaena crying for lucerys, but not rhaenys. she was basically the twins’ mother since they were kids but they don’t mourn her?
rhaenyra complaining she got a position in viserys’ council and was taught diplomacy from a young age, but believes that sword training would’ve been more useful 💀 of course she takes that boring council stuff for granted so much she doesn’t use it.
‘if i must be suplicant to my own husband what does that make me?’ a woman. a wife.
this quote summarizes how rhaenyra is so disconnected from the experiences of women in her world, so much she can’t fathom them for herself. she’s so singled out that not even the next most powerful women in the realm (alicent and helaena) are free from being supplicant to their husbands.
they wanna give the smallfolk’s favor to the blacks? 💀💀💀 if this is foreshadowing for the storming of the dragonpit i riot.
so you agree? dragons choose their riders and don’t care for inheritances? good to know.
rhaenyra is so memememe all the time ew. can’t focus on anyone else for five minutes without asking for something. i just know she would be so tiring to be around.
DAEMON’S MOMMY ISSUES 🤨🤨🤨 that shit will haunt me. also they de-yassified alyssa smh
daemon being trapped in a haunted castle and a diplomatic hell is funny af. now he knows what otto always yapped about.
and he still is delulu about being king. some things never change
my poor king :(
lmao as if alicent had ever one ounce of power without otto. and as if she isn’t dismissed by the council every day of the week. girl you can’t even rule over your sons sit down
alicent would’ve had a lot more power and influence if she had played her cards right and treated aegon a little better. fafo.
larys wanting criston to say shit so alicent gets mad at him 😂
i would like an explanation for why random peasants are so loyal to rhaenyra when they don’t know her, she’s very polemical and she would sneer at the sight of them. writer’s nonsense again
also another nonsense is the crown not having coin. they literally have the whole treasure, so much they can play with it for plot related reasons that will be important later
that dog cared for cheese more than alicent cared for aegon.
nooo poor ali 😭😭😭 the king looked to you for advice and you spurned him. now there’s another one in charge and he’s not so eager for your opinion.
jace comparing vermax to vhagar 💀 babe you can’t compete when you don’t compare
daemon rn: day’s never finished, master’s got me working, someday master’ll set me freeee 🪓🎶
and he’s shading rhaenyra lmao
alys is so cryptic and unhinged i love her
baela being more loyal to her stepmother than her grandfather 💀 well it’s not like corlys ever defended her before so idk
gotta love how all of the discord and resentment is resolved by ✨ girl power✨
‘driftmark must pass to salt and sea’ was lucerys salt and sea? is joffrey salt and sea? be truthful. look at me in the eyes.
FINALLY SOME BLACKWOOD SLANDER
i hate the blackwoods during the dance for the shit they did. the septs, the pillaging, those atrocities are brushed over because of george’s bias. i didn’t expect a lot from the show but i’m pleasantly surprised.
i love that riverlands’ lady. i love all of the riverlords now. i think people forget that the brackens have decent relationships with most other houses and only have a very specific rivalry with a very specific house that just happens to be a pet of george.
also how did they get to harrenhal so fast? i forgot to mention how it’s so surreal for armies and people to travel so fast. how did jace got to the twins and was right on time for dinner the same day?
i just know the aemondwives will have a field day with the scene of aemond looking at the throne. that camera descending? now that’s what i’m talking about.
helaena asking the real questions here.
an answer????
egg 😭😭😭 he deserves so much more. his panting, his burns, he looks like a sick child and this is the first time we see someone giving him a gentle touch
i love alicent’s dress. you son is battling with the stranger and you’re serving cunt? helaena is with the same dress from ep2 and alicent has a new wardrobe 😵💫
MUMMY 😭😭😭
i’d like alicent praying for aegon. they made religion a big part of her character just to erase it this season or conveniently point the finger at her for ‘sinning’. we get alicent praying for lucerys and viserys but are we supposed to believe she wasn’t praying by aegon’s bedside? we could get an interesting parallel with catelyn and bran there.
rhaenyra wanting to be visenya 💀 girl visenya would kill everyone who said she couldn’t fight or rule or anything else. if rhaenyra can’t stand up to her council she can’t stand up to her enemies.
jace proposing the dragonseeds yay
rhaenyra dismissing the idea of dragonseeds because ‘their blood is thin’ but not recognizing the actual danger of giving a dragon to someone unrelated to the targs (something that will be important to the plot later) shows exactly where her priorities are.
i wanted more helaena. i wanted more aegon. smh
26 notes
·
View notes