#but as it stands now its got so much downright Stupid writing but takes itself soooo seriously its soooo dour.

[marklikely]

the joker movies both could have really been something but they either need to get 60% smarter or 10% sillier to work.

[duskyskz]

- Erasure - 1

Hwang Hyunjin x Female Reader

With washed out, dyed pastel hair, sea salt and acrylic clinging to his jeans, Hwang Hyunjin expected to find himself many places that night. A jail holding cell. Under the abandoned train station bridge. Maybe even his own bedroom.

Your living room wasn't on the list.

Warnings - Some angst in later chapters, suggestive/smut, minor character death mentions, Hyunjin is an eboy and a little angsty, Changbin is doing his best as a big brother, slow burn (?)

A/N - Finally! Sorry for the delays, my head just hasn’t been with me this week;; I hope you enjoy this series as much as I am excited to write it. 

***

The steady buzzing of your speakers fills the living room as you watched Changbin scroll through the Netflix home page. Both of you settle deep into the sofa, balancing a bowl of popcorn and chocolate between your knees. 

“Endgame? Homecoming, Nightmare on Elm Street?” Binnie flicks through the suggestions, and you shake your head in distaste. “I'm not watching that octopus documentary again!”

“You only hated it because you cried at the end.”

“She died! He had to look after her little babies! Your heart is too cold, too far gone for that level of compassion.” The last part of your brother's grumbles are cut off when you throw a burnt kernel at his forehead, barely missing his ear. 

There’s nobody else home. Nobody else ever comes home, either. It's been just you and Changbin for a while, and it's not all that terrible. He’s a few years older than you, having graduated last summer and now undertaking an apprenticeship at the village police station. It doesn't pay a stellar amount, but Changbin reassures you once he passes the trainee exams he’ll treat you to a new pair of winter boots and you can finally quit the ice cream parlour to focus on college. You tell him that even if he wins the lottery tomorrow, you'll work your own job. For all the support your elder brother gives you, you like having your own thing. It makes you feel a little more involved, a little more even than jsit washing the dishes and doing his laundry on days he’s too tired to move. 

The Thursday evening is reserved for you both, to catch up on the hours together you miss during the week when Changbin doesn't get back till you're fast asleep and you don't have the chance to say good morning. 

He’s been doing that a lot more recently. 

Sighing into his coffee, shaking his head at nobody in particular. It's easy to notice the signs of stress and overwork in his face, sunken and tired even on the weekends when he finishes early. 

“Do you wanna finish Teen Wolf?” The softness in his voice when he addresses you is the same, though. “We have three episodes left of this season, if you wanna binge.”

“Sure.” You want to ask him about the circles under his eyes. What’s got him coming home later and later because nothing ever happens in this town. “I'm still waiting on Derek’s redemption arc.”

You're twenty minutes into the episode when a vibration from your coffee table catches your attention. You glance at Changbin, but he ignores his ringtone, flipping it to silent.

It rings again, no music, but harsh vibrations drumming against the polished wood. 

And again.

Knowing he’s not picking up to make a point of it, you pause the show, nodding at the mobile he’s avoiding glancing at. “Go on. Pick up, it might be an emergency.”

“If it's an emergency they don't need an intern there.” Despite his words, Changbin shifts his position and you know he’s growing hesitant. 

“If it's an emergency all the more reason for you to be there and learn.” You state with more force behind your tone. “Why have your grades been dropping? You're coming home so late but your exams keep getting delayed -”

“My grades are fine!” Changbin never snaps at you, but the frustration in his voice is evident. “I'm fine. There's just - Just one case we're working on and I'm nearly there, I just need time.”

You shut your mouth, letting him speak.

“There’s this kid who keeps tagging the beach houses on Dawning Lane, and that shit  was expensive to put up last year. Some stupid, bored child that thinks a few cans of spraypaint and lung cancer are a good excuse for your adolescence. He’s not even that good… Just scribbles.”

His lips pout in a frustrated whine at the last phrase, and you know he’s more frustrated at the situation than he is at you or himself.

A beat of silence, interrupted by another ringtone - you almost reach for it yourself to check the caller ID and force him to pick up, before Changbin’s arm shoots out past you to snatch the device, slinking out the door and into the hallway. 

You aren't surprised when a few moments later, your brother’s head pokes nervously out the door frame - He's already got his coat on, waving his phone at you as an awkward goodbye. 

“I’ll see you in the morning, y/n.”

“Yeah, see ya.” You salute back, smiling to ease the tension in his shoulders, and it works a minimum. You won’t see him till the late evening at best.

The door clicks shut as soon as he turns around, leaving you surrounded by popcorn and empty space. You really aren't surprised - but it'd be pointless to deny you weren't hurt by another night alone with Teen Wolf playing idly through your TV speakers. Cold popcorn only did so much to soothe your heart, and the distance wedging itself recently between your sibling bond was hard to brush over, between missed calls and texts too often left unanswered. 

You just really miss your big brother.

 You commit yourself to Stiles Stilinsky instead, sighing into the blanket around your shoulders. Autumn rolls in quick by the seaside, making your calves prickle with goosebumps. It's nearing 11pm, you realise, picking up the -

Thump!

Your fingers freeze, hovering over the TV remote. Changbin wouldn’t be back yet, he never comes home the same night he leaves. 

“Bin?” You try it anyway, calling tentatively into the hallway. It’s still entirely black, void of disruption.

Clang!

That definitely came from your kitchen.

Armed with a half empty popcorn bowl and nerves of steel, you tiptoe into the other room. There’s a lump of something or someone crouched behind the dining table, and your grip around the glass dish tightens marginally despite the quivering of your knees, fumbling for the lightswitch without taking your eyes off the rising dark mass as it straightens its back. 

“S-Stay down! I have corn and I know how to use it!” You don’t have a fully formed plan yet, but you’re sure the sharp kernels will be of some importance. Fluorescent white light floods the kitchen, momentarily blinding both you and the intruder who now stands at full height. A steady 12 inches above you. 

“Ouch! Calm down, I’m not going to rob you!” He says, sounding almost exasperated at your defense of your own property. He still has his hands raised in defense, keeping the table between himself and you, and you’re grateful he hasn’t tried to knock your legs out from under you, yet. “I’m not here to steal your stuff.”

“What are you here for, then?” You lower the popcorn bowl, but don’t let it fall out of your grasp. He doesn’t seem dangerous - He doesn’t seem like he could manage clambering through the window you always leave ajar either, but here he clearly is. There’s something sticky and pink in his blonde hair, stains following down his shoulder blades all the way down the cuffs of his jeans. If anything, he looks...a little lost.

“It’s the address on the post-it note.” Your confusion must have been plainly obvious, because the boy elaborates, pulling a crumpled neon-green paper from his jacket. “The post-it note that man gave me. That’s what Changbin gave me.”

Perhaps you lack self preservation instincts, but there’s an uncertain vibration in his voice that makes you give up your weapon and attitude. 

“You know my brother?” 

“He told me if I really need to go somewhere, I can come here.” You watch slim fingers tug at the sleeves of his jacket as he measures with a weight akin to a glare. “He didn’t tell me it was his house, or that somebody else was living here.” 

Bold of him to accuse you of ruining his night plans. 

It really did only click in your head when you looked closer at his tangled hair, dried paint clumping it together at the ends of bleached blonde strands. The  artistic menace haunting your sea-side town was standing right on your tiled kitchen floor, and he looked downright miserable. 

And Changbin had invited him. 

Biting down the discomfort at realising how little Changbin had been telling you recently,  you set the popcorn down on the table, you take in the threat currently three feet before you. A tall, lanky boy, with odd shoelaces and a sharpie sticking out of his trouser pocket. His hair hasn’t been cut in a while, and probably brushed either - it’d be generous to say he ran more than a stressed hand through it anytime recently. Though chapped, his full lips and wide eyes made him look far too innocent for his own good, and you blamed your soft heart for finding the boy kinda cute. 

He did have a leaf stuck above his ear, though. 

You almost reached up to remove it.

“Do you wanna watch Teen Wolf?”  You break the quiet that settled, already shuffling your feet out into the living room. You sincerely hoped he’d follow. You weren’t sure what you could do apart from leaving him standing on cold tile, and he already looked freezing from the night chill. 

Luckily for you, with a hesitant step, your impromptu companion takes after you to the couch where your Netflix and remove still await instruction. Changbin might grumble at you tomorrow at finishing the season without him, but you needed something to lure the boy into comfort. 

“I’m y/n, by the way.” You mention. The boy sits stiffly, clasping his hands in his lap with parted lips, avoiding the decorative pillows. 

“Hyunjin.” Now that he’s actually inside your house, Hyunjin’s confidence seems to have evaporated. The thrill of the break-in, if you can even call is that, has worn off, giving way to the nerves. He’s suddenly too conscious of the paint on his clothes, of sandy shoes still on his feet, of the smudges still on his cheeks. Should he take his jacket off? Or wipe his shoes? 

You press resume, watching him relax after a few minutes as his brain finally has something else to focus on to let his worries ease. Hyunjin doesn't seem to mind you already being halfway through the episode, and you let yourself admit it’s nice having someone around this late at night. 

“How do you know Changbin?” You ask while the topic is still fresh.

“I don’t.” Hyunjin bumps his knees together, fiddling with a loose string on his jeans as he shrugs. “I don’t really know him, he just...saw me around a few times, and I guess he figured I could use a place to crash. So he gave me your address.”

“You’re the mystery kid painting the beach houses, right? On Dawning Lane.” 

At the accusation, Hyunjin’s lips part, flipping to face you with wide, blinking eyes., knowing he’s in no place to try and deny it. You blink back, observing his reactions, in case he suddenly changes his mind about staying. “Are you gonna turn me in?...” 

“No.” You shake your head after a moment of thought, and he visibly untenses. “For whatever reason Changbin didn’t, so I won’t either. If he trusts you then I do too.” 

You’ll never know if it was the murmurs of the TV, or if Hyunjin did whisper a thank you, and you won’t ask. There’s a lot of things you do want to ask, but a tug in your heart tells you now is not the time. Hyunjin looks exhausted, eyes drooping with every slow blink as he does his best to focus on the screen, hands previously tugging at his jeans now still and flat on his lap, slouched forward as if any moment he’ll drift off sitting on your pillows. Flurries of fluorescent light flicker on his cheeks, over barely scrubbed paint smudges and faint cuts from running too fast, you guess. In the delicate, dimmed light of your floor lamp, it’s hard to imagine Hyunjin as a bad kid. Prickly, maybe. On edge is a better word for it, tension clinging to his shoulders like stubborn dust bunnies. Curse your naive little heart, you tell yourself, building up your courage to speak.

“Hyunjin?” He hums in response, straightening his back. “Do you want to sleep here tonight?”

All you’ve been taught in life sent alarm bells through your skull when you asked a complete stranger (who just two hours ago, broke in through your kitchen window) to sleep in your living room overnight, but Hyunjin didn’t feel  like a stranger. Changbin trusted him enough to lead him right to your house, so that must count for something, right? And no matter how much you tried to keep your guard up around the boy, watching him struggle to stay upright instead of letting his tall, lanky body fall backward and rest comfortably only made you worry a little about him, not the other way around. 

Well, he did say he’s not going to rob you. 

“You can sleep on the couch if you want, I’ll bring you some blankets.” You prompt him again when he doesn’t respond. “Changbin won’t be back for a while still.” 

“Are you sure you’re okay with that?” There’s a lilt of doubt in his voice, but he sincerely hopes you’re serious. This couch is warmer than anything he’s slept on in months and he really doesn’t want to crawl outside again with the rain pattering against your roof. 

“Sure, you haven’t tried to stab me yet.” You shrug, getting up to fetch a duvet and looking him over.

“Ah, you probably want to wash your hair from all...that,” Hyunjin’s hand flies to his hair, patting out the tangles as if it’s the first time he’s noticed them. “You can use the bathroom upstairs, there’s towels by the shower already.”

He nods, following your directions with a ‘thank you’. Once his footsteps disappear up the landing, you set about pulling out the couch into a flatbed, rearranging the pillows at its base. Lugging the duvet down from Changbin’s room had been a feat, but you’re determined to make the space welcoming. Satisfied with the cushioned bundle you created, you run back upstairs. 

You invade your brother’s room for the second time that day, tugging open his drawers in search for something acceptably pijama-like. 

“Hyunjin?” You knock tentatively on the bathroom door as the shower head turns off and the shuffling ceases. “I’m leaving some clothes for you to change into outside, okay? Come downstairs when you’re ready.”

You scroll through your timeline as you wait, catching up on the last few hours’ events from your friends until a shuffling to your left prompts you to raise your head. 

Your brother’s sweats hang a little loosely around Hyunjin’s hips, ending just above his ankles, bare feet sliding over the wooden floor of your living room, sinking into the rug as he steps closer to where you sit. His own clothing cradled in his arms close to his chest, you can’t stop your thoughts drifting momentarily to the damp mess of sunshine coloured hair. With his jacket on earlier, it was hard to make out his build under layers of fabric, but now it’s proving a challenge to not focus on the lines of his arms or the curves of his large hands gripping his clothes. Luckily for your dignity, your nerves of steel allow you to drag your gaze away from the collarbones peeking out from under thin white cotton higher to meet his eyes instead and find your voice again.

“I brought down some pillows for you, these are a bit too hard to sleep on.” You note, pointing to the decorative cushions you moved onto the lounge chair. “My room is right opposite the bathroom if you need anything, I’m a light sleeper.” 

“M’okay.” Hyunjin towers above you, yet you’ve never seen a boy so dainty. There really is no other way to describe the delicate line of his nose bridge or the rosy tint of his lips when his tongue pokes out to lick them as he mulls over your words, settling down on the makeshift bed. 

The proximity now feels different than the air between you when Teen Wolf still blared through your speakers, warm quiet heavy on your tongue with dim golden glow tumbling over his cheekbones that’s too much for your heart to take unprepared.

“Goodnight then!” You bounce up from the couch waving Hyunjin a quick goodbye, but a soft hand wrapping around your wrist pauses you. 

“Wait,” Hyunjin brushes his thumb over your palm softly, and you hope he doesn't notice the goosebumps on your skin at the contact. “Thanks for not kicking me out...or calling the police. Y’know, as most people would for a break in.” 

The smile he flashes you is almost teasing, but you can tell he means the words sincerely. You lay your other hand on top of his, patting in what you hope is a reassuring motion.

“Sure, Jinnie. It’s okay.”

[sunnyartsstudio]

So, I got on Netflix again and just spent a substantial portion of this weekend binge watching the first season of The Dragon Prince and I got to say - I was monumentally disappointed. 

First, I want to address the elephant-koi in the room, this series is heavily derivative of ATLA. Now, I did know that going in since literally the only praise I see heaped on TDP is that it’s a lot like ATLA (and for some of its representation, which I’ll get to in a moment, don’t you worry) and Aaron Ehasz hasn’t exactly been doing this aspect any favors by consistently drawing comparisons to ATLA itself and using his working on ATLA as a promotional tool. But, honestly, I was massively unprepared for how deep and blatant TDP’s similarities to ATLA were going to get. The intro is a lengthened rehash of ATLA’s intro. The music is eerily similar. Its seasons are listed as “books” and its episodes “chapters” and its incorporation of the elements is damn near copy/paste. This series feels like the “can I copy your homework” meme manifested in a show. And, I can’t properly summarize this issue without bringing up my second issue - 

CALLUM. I feel really bad for this character. No, not because his parents are dead and he has security issues. No. Not that at all. It’s because Callum really isn’t allowed to be anything beyond a tug-of-war of “Sokka” and “not-Sokka”. The writers are constantly trying to both make Callum Sokka (Jack Desena voices him the exact same way, his humor is similar, his personality is similar) but also assure the audience that, no, he’s not Sokka. After all, he’s good at art and bad at combat - so totally not Sokka! Except when he is. Which is literally all the time other than those when those two aspects of his character are shown.

Third, since we’re discussing characters, I’m going to mention that the voice acting ranges from okay to horrendous. Ezran is the worst offender here, but, honestly, these characters can be downright painful to listen to.

Fourth, the animation. Yeah, I know this is the one area that even fans admit could be improved on, but I’m mentioning it nonetheless. It looks terrible. Now, that said, the designs and the backgrounds are actually really good. But the bizarre blend of 2D with 3D makes the movements stiff and jarring to look at and limits the characters’ range of expression, which is a massive detriment to the series and the emotional subject matters that it’s trying to cover.

Fifth, fucking Amaya. No, I don’t mean her character, I just mean an aspect of it. Now, going into the series, I already knew she was a guard and that she was deaf, and, therefore, I was already prepared for a certain level of stupid. Yeah, I know what I typed. A deaf person in the guard is a stupid idea. If she can’t hear, it’s that much easier to sneak up on her. You may not want to accept that, but it’s fact. Disabilities means there are certain things you can’t do that others can - I know. I have a disability. And it’s an odd choice to make her a guard considering she could have been a deaf diplomat or just about anything else that doesn’t put her in a situation where being able to hear is detrimental. And, unlike Toph in ATLA who has seismic sense to compensate for her blindness, Amaya is straight up deaf - there’s no trick or power or anything to compensate for it. And I could probably have just rolled my eyes at the whole thing - if TDP itself didn’t go out of its way to make the whole thing stupider. Like having Amaya enter a building that isn’t secured before any of the soldiers with her? Classic. And my personal favorite - that her interpreter is almost always standing directly behind her when she signs. What. The. Hell? Can he see through her or something? When he is standing next to her, he’s almost always looking at her face. What. The. Hell? I’m assuming she can read lips even though no one said she could (I’ll get to that in a minute too), but half the time she isn’t even looking at the person talking to her, so? Huh?  

Sixth, the world building is shit. There, I said it. Honestly, I could probably get past every other issue this show has if not for that. I watched the entire season - 9 episodes - and almost nothing is established or explained as far as how the magic system works or basically anything. Outside of the intro - which, despite being pretty easy to understand, is explained over and over in the dialogue. Yes, I get the info the intro discussed. You don’t need to keep reminding me. How about using that time instead to explain how magic works? What dark magic did humans use? Why was it so bad? Just saying something is “dark” doesn’t quite cut it. Why does Claudia need stuff for some spells, but can literally snap her fingers twice and turn her hand into a flashlight. How do things work?? I get Callum’s magic. The show shows us what is specifically required for the two spells he knows and what those two spells do. Everything else just happens. And it feels like it’s used to fit the needs of the writers as opposed to making sense. It feels like the writers just pull it out of their asses whenever they want. And it’s literally the most frustrating aspect of the show. 

Kind of coupled with how shit the world building is is the lazy writing. It takes literally 8 episodes (there are 9 in each season) for the show to drop the bombshell that Ezran can understand animals - and it comes completely out of nowhere. There’s no hint of this in any earlier episodes. Ezran never seems to understand Bait, didn’t know the giant discount-Unagi was lurking in the water ready to eat Bait, nothing. And, as if that wasn’t lazy enough, this is revealed when, almost to the tree Ellis is leading them to to meet the miracle healer, Ezran says that the wolf just told him there is no miracle healer. Why wouldn’t the wolf have mentioned this before you even left to meet the miracle healer?? Why didn’t the wolf mention this immediately after Ellis’s story of how they met the miracle healer and how she fixed the wolf’s leg????? Is it because lazy writing? Because I’m willing to bet it’s because lazy writing. This is why second drafts are important - so you don’t create lazy last-minute reveals and plot holes.

That said, I used the word disappointed because I went into TDP genuinely wanting to like it. I didn’t want it to be the next ATLA. I just wanted it to be a good show I could enjoy. And, to be fair, there are a lot of elements that I do like about it. Rayla and Claudia are great characters and, if focus was placed on proper world building, this could be a unique world to explore. The character relationships are fairly well developed and, while the animation is terrible, the character designs are decent. There is good in this. But it’s buried under trying to hard to remind me of a show that did all this - and did it better - and buried deep under some of the worst world building I have ever seen. 

I don’t feel like I wasted my time on it, but I still probably won’t be checking out seasons 2 or 3. If season 1 is anything to go by, this series isn’t for me. If I want something reminiscent of ATLA, I’ll just rewatch ATLA. At least that has decent world building.

[autisticlalna]

caution & crisis, part 1

back at it again! [does a sick kickflip] [falls down]

so i was talking to @mine-sara-sp a while ago and a really cool idea came about that i couldnt stop thinking about. i was on break from writing fic after detonator, and i didnt really have plans on what to do, but... this idea kinda just stuck. so me and sara had a talk, refined it more, tossed ideas back and forth... and now we have Caution & Crisis! Grian does something stupid. Jigsaw has an excellent time and then a downright horrible time.

this takes place an undefined amount of time after the other Jigsaw fics so far, and is also my first time actually writing him! i hate him. that’s all you need to know. grian’s here too i guess

content warnings: jigsaw being an awful little fucker, as usual (although closer to 6.24 than to sticks & stones)

-

    Grian was sick and tired of this.

    He wasn’t the only one on the server with a dangerous shadow: he’d personally been on the receiving end of the worst Joe’s could do, and pretty much every hermit had been on the wrong end of Biffa’s shadow’s sword by now. But... they never kidnapped his friends and tortured them to laugh about it. Those shadows didn’t relish in the absolute misery they could inflict on everyone for no reason other than they could. They didn’t torment the people close to their summoners just to see the looks on their faces.

Grian hated it. He hated how he’d put so much trust in his shadow at first, and he hated how he hadn’t realized his mistake until it was too late. He hated how his friends flinched if he approached them without warning in anything other than bright light, hated how so many of his behaviours were warped and twisted into mocking cruelty, hated how he couldn’t even build fun traps anymore without worrying about how they could be made lethal, hated all the reminders around him of what his shadow had done.

    The other hermits wanted to know why he kept summoning it. Too many times Jigsaw had escaped, too many times someone had been hurt. He always had a flimsy excuse when asked (“I wanted another copy of my god armor” was the one he fell back on the most), but the truth he never dared to say was that he kept summoning Jigsaw just so he could drive a sword into its chest.

A small part of him knew this wasn’t going to work. With each death, shadows got stronger: not just in physical strength, but in intelligence and power. Each death meant the next time Jigsaw was summoned it was easier for it to overpower him. And, with the only threats to the shadows being their summoners and other shadows, it was getting easier for Jigsaw to just nick his stuff, chuck him in a box, and leave him for dead.

    And yet, here he was, in the depths of the shadow temple, standing in front of the summoning altar, and shaking with rage.

    As he had done for the entire trip here, Grian checked around to make sure no other hermits were nearby. Not that it would do him much good-- everyone would be able to see the chat ping alerting everyone that a shadow had been summoned. At least if no one was in the temple with him, he didn’t run the risk of Jigsaw using them as a prop in its schemes… and he didn’t risk having to field questions about why he looked like he was about to snap. Which he was.

    He’d timed everything perfectly. Joe had just left after another bout of training with his shadow, Wels’s shadow was still summoned so there was no risk of the Vex shadows dragging the unfortunate knight here, Keralis had enough diamonds to satisfy his gambling addiction for now… No one else was going to be using the temple for a while. Well, unless Apex did something stupid and got itself killed, which was getting worryingly more common and worryingly more… worrying seeing as Biffa wasn’t the one behind it.

    Maybe this was a bad idea. Grian hesitated, his hand hovering inches away from the armor stand. A lot more hermits had been summoning their shadows, and a lot of shadows had been getting pretty strong. It was hard to picture what life had been like before the addition of the mob, and yet even though they were a part of everyday life they were still dangerous. Especially if killed enough times to start developing fun new abilities, like Killjoy. What if that happened with Jigsaw? What if it turned out he was still playing right into his shadow’s hands, and Jigsaw was using him like Killjoy was using Joe? What if this death, or the one before, was enough for Jigsaw to develop some awful new power it could use to make his life a living hell?

    ...but, also, Grian just really, really wanted to stab him.

    Not giving himself time to have second thoughts again, Grian tapped the armor stand and took a step back as the scene played out like it had all the times before: the stand vanishing, the shadows cast by the lights around him warping and changing, then his own shadow stretching out and up off the floor. Grian got into a fighting stance as soon as Jigsaw got its head out; he bared his teeth, jaw clenched, as his dark duplicate stood up and stretched like it’d just been woken up from a nap.

    “Oh, hello Grian~!” The cheerful smile that was so at home on Grian’s face looked horrible on his shadow’s. “Back so soon? That’s a surprise-- I thought you would’ve learned your lesson by now!” Ignoring the rage boiling off of its summoner, Jigsaw crossed its arms behind its back and looked around. “You’re reaaaally going to fight me one-on-one? Really? But don’t you remember what happened last time?” It rolled its head back and looked at him with half-lidded eyes. “Or do you wanna go back in the box that badly?”

    “Shove it!” Grian snapped. Jigsaw sidestepped his swing like it was no big deal.

    “Ooh, feeling feisty today~! I see, I see.” The smile spread into a mocking grin. “You’ll have to try harder than that, Grian!” It hopped over the next slash and laughed, a horrible giggle that sounded far too much like Grian’s for his liking. “Go on, keep trying! Maybe I’ll stand still~” It posed, feet together, arms outstretched, like it had just succeeded with a 10-point landing.

    He was getting his anger get the better of him, he knew that. That was what Jigsaw did to people-- it either broke them, or it enraged them. Anything that it could take and twist up into being part of its game. He needed to think clearly, needed to find a weak point in his shadow’s guard, because if his experience with Killjoy taught him anything it was that fighting like a Grian wasn’t going to get him anywhere.

    But it was so, so hard to think with Jigsaw taunting him non-stop. “Come on, Grian!” it whined. “I’m getting bored. Are you even trying?” It ducked down to avoid Grian’s next attack, then leaned back to let the backswing sail over its head.

    “I thought you were going to stand still?!” Another miss. He was still the obstacle between Jigsaw and the door, but if he wasn’t careful his shadow would get bored of their little dance and leave him in the dust.

    The laugh that had been affectionately described as a “gremlin giggle” when Grian did it was loaded with poison. “I said maybe!” Another step back, another step to the side, another flawless dodge, another miss. Jigsaw’s smile was catlike in a way he hated. “But if you want me to so bad, then…” Jigsaw jumped back, landing dead center on the summoning platform and spreading his arms to make himself as much of a target as possible. “Hit me, Grian! Go on! What’re you gonna do with that big sword, huh? Gonna hit me? Better make it hurt. Better kill me in one shot--”

    Grian screamed in fury as his sword cleaved into Jigsaw. The tiny part of his brain not blinded by frustration took note that this was too easy, that his sword barely had any resistance as it slashed into his shadow, that there was no way he would be able to take out all of his health in one go, and yet… 

    And yet there was no puff of smoke, no cloud of triangle particles dusting down onto the ground and dimming into nothingness, nothing like what happened every time he’d killed his shadow before. The golden seam bisecting his shadow glowed, the light spreading until all of Jigsaw was the same shimmering colour, and then, with an almost cartoonish “pop!”, the golden silhouette split into two like a cell dividing. Grian’s jaw dropped open as the light faded and two copies of his shadow stood in front of him with matching shit-eating grins. 

    Oh, he had absolutely messed up.

    “Thanks for the help, Grian!” one of the Jigsaws chirped in that horrible upbeat tone.

    “Surprised?” said the other, its grin growing wider. “Aww, look at his face! Haha~” It nudged its clone with an elbow as it giggled. “He never expected this, huh?”

    “Never in a million years!” Their laughter drilled into him. “You should have been paying more attention, G~ I bet you’re wondering how long--”

    Grian didn’t go for a slash this time. His sword stabbed right through the chest of one of the Jigsaws; it stopped talking, horrified, as he drove the blade in up to the hilt and glared at it inches from its face. “Shut. Up.” This time, when he yanked the sword out, it did nothing but give him a horrified look before exploding into smoke and particles.

    Okay. Good. It could still die. Grian panted, a smile working its way onto his face. Looked like Jigsaw only split if cut apart… Inconvenient, but he could manage. He’d just have to be more careful, maybe use his trident more rather than relying on his sword, but he was going to have to get used to changing up his fighting style anyway if he kept killing his shadow like this…

    Wait. Where’d the other one go?

    Grian turned around just in time to see Jigsaw bolt for the door. “Get back here--!” With a taunting laugh, his shadow dove into the floor and darted away; his strike did nothing but crack the floor as he slammed his sword down onto it.

    “Bye, Grian!” his shadow’s voice echoed from down the hall, growing fainter as it escaped. “Tell Mumbo I say hi~ I’m sure he’d love to hear you brought me back!”

    “NO!” Grian screamed. He’d played right into Jigsaw’s hands, again. His sword clanged as he threw it at the far wall with all the force he could muster, then dropped down to his knees and screamed into his hands. Great! Fantastic! Amazing! Outstanding! Now his shadow was on the loose, and could clone itself! That’s the best news he’s had all week! Except, no wait, no it isn’t, because that is the worst news he’s ever received. 

    What was he going to do now? Jigsaw was surely making a beeline to the Nether portal and was going to be halfway across the server before he was able to even try and catch up. If only he’d been better prepared, if only he’d thought to try and trap his shadow here, if only he could just summon it back so he could give it the beatdown it deserved…

    Grian got a stupid idea.

    As the hermits made more and more use of it, the shadow temple had collected an assortment of various items outside the door leading to the summoning altar itself. Things like beds, ender chests, crafting tables… and a chest full of the items needed to summon a shadow on command. Grian’s eyes darted from the chest, to the crafting table, to the altar, and back again as a plan started to form together. What if he resummoned his shadow? As far as Grian was aware, none of the hermits had tried doing so while a shadow was already out and about on the Overworld. There was still a lot they didn’t know about the mob, after all. So… what would happen? What if he was able to teleport Jigsaw back to him? He’d like to see his shadow try to run and hide then!

    His laughter took on a bit of a maniacal tone as he re-assembled the dark armor stand and placed it down. “ ‘Aww, look at his face!’ “ he said in his best Jigsaw impression, which was really just… doing an impression of himself. “ ‘He never expected this, huh?’ I can’t wait to see the look on its dumb face…” Jittering with excitement, Grian summoned his shadow.

    What he’d expected to happen was for it to be like he’d summoned his shadow all over again. Grian had expected Jigsaw to get yanked up out of his shadow like normal, had expected to laugh at it as it demanded an explanation, and had expected to then finally get to take out the rest of its health and walk away with loot and accomplishment. That’s what made the most sense to Grian. Why would anything else happen? That would be silly.

    That wasn’t what happened.

    Grian looked down at his shadow and frowned. The armor stand had vanished, but… nothing had happened. It wasn’t like when he’d gotten possessed by Killjoy, either, when his shadow had outright vanished as the shadow mob took control. Normally there would be an error message if something didn’t work, right? But he was just… standing here, feeling stupid, while meanwhile his shadow was probably thousands of blocks away. Frustrated, Grian picked up his sword and made to leave.

    A chill went down his spine as he passed back over the summoning altar on his way to the door. Grian found himself rooted in place; he looked around, alarmed, but that was the most he could do. His body just wasn’t responding to him anymore. Fear hammered in his chest; Grian tried to run, to do anything, but was completely powerless. Unable to do anything else, Grian looked down.

    A pair of yellow eyes looked back up at him.

    His shadow distorted and a pair of arms shot out to grab him by the legs. Grian screamed as Jigsaw clawed his way out, eyes burning with fury, but-- no, this wasn’t right. Jigsaw was pulling himself up, but… but Grian was being pulled down. Empty cold clung to him as Jigsaw dragged him under, deeper into the dark, and Grian couldn’t do anything but feebly struggle as the world around him grew more indistinct, colour draining out of his surroundings and leaving nothing but darkness, until finally everything faded into nothing as he fell out of the Overworld.

* Grian has made the advancement [Into The Abyss]

[simplystefanie-rae]

Frozer is a Heaping Pile of Garbage

Hi. I made another essay.

You can alternately call it, ‘How a single episode somehow encompasses everything that’s narratively disturbing about this show.’

But if you’re feeling frisky, feel free to call it, ‘How a show about a girl for young girls thinks that said girl is the Worst and needs to be Better. Or Else.’

I’m done joking. Let’s get (semi) serious.

If you watch ML casually or say, with a bit of a bias towards a certain blond character, it might be easy to miss the issues I often talk about. They tend to center around Marinette and her treatment in the show, but it’s hard not to always talk about that when it has a tendency to be a certain way with her. I’m going to focus on just one of those ways for right now, but just know ahead of time that there are a multitude of issues with how the writers treat her, such as her lack of major plot involvement, her parents being one dimensional and barely involved in her life, and how the writers praised her for being a biracial french/chinese heroine yet seem to have no interest in actually showing that on screen.

Lately I’m finding that something stands out exceedingly, and the more I think it over the more unnerved I get. Marinette is a nice girl, a hero who other little girls are suppose to look up to. She should be flawed but she should overcome those flaws and for the most part be a positive force in people’s lives, both in and out of the show. And she is, but to a downright punishable degree. This isn’t to say she’s very flawed, because she’s not. That’s not the problem. Overall she’s a sweet, strong character who has some problems with emotional stability. I’d call it anxiety if I knew the writers of the show cared to really delve into her problems all that much, but I digress. It’s not that she’s flawed at times that’s the issue, it’s how she’s expected to make up for those flaws with either apologies, sacrifices, or kicking herself when she’s already down, and being the only character (with a small exception(1)) in the show who is expected to repent at all, let alone to this degree of punishment.

It stands out even more when we put her mistakes next to the deuteragonist, Adrien, and compare how they’re both expected to handle them. To put it bluntly, Adrien isn’t expected to handle them. Adrien can be moody, say something rude, do something dishonest, and the end of the episode will wind up favoring him with sympathy instead of even so much as suggesting that he was ever in the wrong and needs to fix something. Before I really tackle Frozer, let’s look at Copycat and Volpina, episodes where Adrien and Marinette respectively get jealous and act out of line, causing an akumatization.

In Copycat Theo is at first upset when Ladybug doesn’t show up to the statue unveiling because she ran late doing her own thing, and that is something that was a mistake on her part and that she should make up for. It’s a good lesson to keep your promises for these things and not skip out on them for a selfish reason, I just question why it was necessary to have in the first place. The inclusion surely wasn’t necessary if Chat Noir was the actual cause of Theo’s akumatization by implying that he was already romantically tied with Ladybug and rubbing it in his face about it. That’s what set Theo off, and it’s Chat Noir he goes after, not Ladybug. I suppose writing this now, they needed someone to apologize to Theo, and it wasn’t going to be Chat Noir. Not to get into it in depth here, but having Marinette make a stupid little mistake in an episode she has to learn from is something they do often, even when it doesn’t fit in with the plot.

I’ll just say it; Chat Noir’s behavior in Copycat was deplorable. Not just because of him acting on his jealousy, but because he went through the entire episode with almost no guilt for his actions. Plagg points his jealousy out to him and he’s brushed off. Ladybug asks what happened and he rebukes with a ‘you would know if you were there!’, pushing guilt onto her. He decides it’s in Ladybug’s best interest if she just doesn’t know what he’s done and tries to handle things himself, which is about as far as his own guilty conscience gets, but it doesn’t go so far that he decides that it’s probably in poor tastes to push her towards Theo and tell her to take care of things since his ‘crush just got crushed’, making her think that the entire situation is her fault. So she apologizes, sweetly and sincerely, being none the wiser about Chat Noir’s fault in all this.

What’s even more sad about the situation is that Ladybug proudly exclaims that he would never lie to her. A line like that requires callback, it’s irony at its finest and would only have place in an episode where Chat Noir does lie to (and about) her if it was meant to be solved. But somewhere along the way a writer switched gears in the plot. It becomes about his crushed feelings and the narrative is suddenly putting him in a sympathetic light. The whole thing feels manipulative to me, and that’s something this show does in spades when it comes to his character. He can do something wrong, but he’ll always be given that sympathy angle so he’s not expected to actually make up for his actions.

It’s the exact opposite with Marinette, so let’s get into Volpina now. It starts off much the same way. Her jealousy completely overtakes her, but instead of having a private moment where she acts out that bears no other witnesses, Adrien is there. Her partner is allowed to see her at her lowest and call her out on her behavior. Just take that in for a moment. Ladybug, who proudly proclaimed her trust for Chat Noir, was never given any type of a clue that he lied about her and blamed her for Theo’s akumatization. She has no idea about his disrespect, so isn’t given an opportunity to show hurt or disappointment. Adrien is there to witness Ladybug blowing up at Lila over something that’s not even technically about him as far as he knows, and he’s allowed to sit atop that high horse and be ashamed by her actions.

It extends further into the episode. When they’re fighting Volpina, Chat Noir has misgivings listening to Ladybug’s assumptions about Volpina being shady because of how she acted previously. It’s a mild distrust he’s being granted. Which by itself I’m a little okay with if it’s him being cautious (though I still maintain he should trust his partner’s logic not just because it’s sound, but because one mistake by her shouldn’t be such a make or break situation), but when we take in how Ladybug is treated in Copycat by comparison you realize that the expectations and leniency for each character are not equal in the slightest.

Ladybug is allowed to make a humiliating and shameful mistake in front of her partner and be chastised for it, Chat Noir is allowed his privacy. Ladybug offers her complete trust in Chat Noir despite him lying in that episode, but he doesn’t offers Ladybug the same trust in her instincts because he was allowed to see her really angry one time. Ladybug tells Chat Now right away that Volpina is her fault, Chat Noir tries to fix things himself and discloses nothing(2). Ladybug apologizes to Lila in the end, is not forgiven, and makes an enemy who’s hell bent on destroying her life in and out of the suit, and Chat Noir doesn’t apologize at to Theo at all. Ladybug does.

To sum up why this is a problem, Ladybug/Marinette’s mistakes are humiliating and are given harsh consequences and she has to make up for her actions, but Chat Noir has no consequences, no expectations, and he’s often made out to be a sympathetic player in the mess he winds up making or in a situation where he’s being rude or stupid as hell (see Glaciator and Syren).

I say all this, yet Frozer is just so much worse. Depressingly worse. I talked about it at length before, but I don’t believe I ever really got into the detrimental effects it can have (should, rather) on Marinette’s character or the people watching. But let’s just dive in.

Frozer is an episode that gives us a problem both our main characters have concerning their love life, or rather the lack of it. They’re not making headway, Adrien because he’s been rejected twice and Marinette because the narrative says that her stuttering and inability to confess is causing there to be a wall between her and Adrien. Already there is an issue with the setup, as it’s presenting both situations as something the characters need to overcome. Marinette needing to be more courageous in how she approaches Adrien to me is debatable since half the time she’s not allowed to be around him more than 5 minutes when she does make attempts, but for the sake of argument right now I’ll go with it. If she doesn’t ever confess then he can never know her feelings and nothing will change. That’s her obstacle, an honest problem we should be rooting for her to overcome. With Adrien, we’re expected to do the same thing. Except his need to keep pushing his romantic feelings onto Ladybug is presented as a sympathetic one when it isn’t, and it’s offered a solution that’s wildly inappropriate and does nothing to fix the real problem we’re shown on screen.

So let’s talk about Kagami for a moment. She’s used as the character in this episode who gives our mains some advice that they need, at least according to the show. How it’s presented to the both of them are starkly different in tone; she’s gently encouraging with Adrien and upfront and cold with Marinette. You can’t blame the character so much, as she’s friends with Adrien and is under the impression that Marinette is fickle with her feelings, though again I question the intent of the writers with this. The only reason Kagami has this low opinion of Marinette in the first place is because of this weird misunderstanding caused by Adrien, the boy who thinks it’s fine to invite another girl on a date. I can’t see the point of it except to cause friction between the two girls later in the future, but to what end? And if that was really the case, Kagami’s attitude towards Marinette wouldn’t be presented as something she needed to suffer through for ‘growth’, unless Kagami’s entire purpose for Marinette’s character is to keep giving unsolicited, harsh advice because the show knows no other way to help Marinette grow.

But maybe I’m wrong.

The advice Kagami gives Marinette upsets her and she goes to the bathroom to reflect on it. Self reflection is something Marinette does quite often, while Adrien doesn’t, and in this particular instance she puts herself down while doing it. After learning that Adrien is taking someone else on a date, she self deprecatingly says that she can’t even talk to him half the time so she should just be friends with him. Marinette is willing to at least try and let go in order to help Adrien out when he asked. So she tries. Granted, she’s not the best at it. She blurts out accidentally that he should drop Kagami, she brings along Luka as a buffer while not realizing the feelings he has for her, and her confusion over everything creates a bit of an awkward atmosphere overall. But she is trying, she’s just hurt and confused by everything happening around her. Adrien is on a date with another girl, there’s this other boy she might like but she’s unsure of what’s going on with him, and she’s trying to navigate all of this as smoothly as possible. So it becomes unclear and downright unnerving to me why the narrative is just so unsympathetic towards her situation. No one is there to comfort or encourage Marinette when she’s talking about her situation with her girlfriends. Tikki is oblivious for some reason (‘Why are you sad, Marinette?”). Kagami reads the situation wrong but still is blunt to the point of being hurtful when she tells Marinette to stop hesitating or she’s going to fail. Chat Noir is just rude as hell to her because he can’t get over himself, and he doesn’t even seem to think this was a problem. Luka’s really the only one that’s allowed to speak to her like an actual friend the entire episode, which I am thankful for, but coupled with all the knocks Marinette’s self esteem takes it doesn’t equal out. Add in how Adrien is treated in comparison, and you have to wonder if the writers seem to think that only Marinette is this really flawed mess of a person that’s required to improve herself under harsh circumstances or else.

But maybe I’m like, wrong.

As per usual, Adrien goes about the episode being coddled with no amount of growth at all despite being the one that needs it the most. When he was rejected by Ladybug in Glaciator and he made it seem like he was happy with her friendship as it was, it should have ended there. I was even okay with that bit about him wanting to wait and see if she’d ever return his feelings one day, because wanting to be hopeful at least for a while is something that’s understandable. The problem comes in Frozer when he is suddenly very pushy with his feelings and unaccepting of her answer. Being hopeful and patient for a little while is one thing, but continuing to actively pursue her and persuade her to give him a chance is just disrespectful and annoying. Only it’s not treated that way.

I’m just going to say it, this show makes Kagami give awful advice. She was slightly more on point with her advice to Marinette, but she was rude about it. She was sweet with Adrien, but what she suggests to him is not to move on for the sake of letting go and respecting this mystery girl’s answer, but to just ‘change targets’, meaning that he should push his pushy feelings on some other girl instead who actually wants it. That isn’t getting to the heart of the problem, it’s just advice that’s saying he should pursue someone that likes him. Adrien’s lesson is that he deserves something out of all this, that Kagami could be his reward if he moved on. He’s not required to reflect on his awful behavior to his partner, just that maybe if he changes his methods up he’ll actually get what he wants in an unexpected way.

Throughout this entire episode Adrien is just acting like an idiot. He’s way too pushy with his feelings, he invites Marinette out to third wheel on his date with someone else and thinks nothing’s wrong with that, it’s because of him that Kagami was side eyeing Marinette at the end of the episode in the first place, and Kagami’s advice was apparently such a boost to his ego that he felt like he could be rude to Ladybug and completely dismiss their friendship to her face because ‘he deserves a girl that likes him’. This kid was a grade A brat bordering on Nice Guy in Frozer, yet the episode offers his narrative nothing but sympathy. Feel bad for him, his love was rejected. Encourage his desires, whether that’s letting go of Ladybug to pursue Kagami or deciding to stick with doggedly pushing his feelings onto his partner. Plagg is the only character to question an ounce of his idiocy (“You take Kagami on a date to get over Ladybug but now you go after Marinette?”) and he is ignored for the tired and downright insulting as hell by now ‘She’s just a friend’ joke this show likes to play.

The whole situation is very offensive. Chat Noir was hurtful to Ladybug, has been hurtful to Ladybug on more than one occasion, and he’s never expected to feel guilty about it let alone make an decent apology. Do the writers think his ire towards her is deserved? I’m really starting to think so, since it’s not like Ladybug is ever give an opportunity to actually feel hurt by the things he says to her. In Glaciator we’re made to think she deserves it because she all but says so, in Syren his attitude and poor handling of a messy situation is completely ignored so she can sooth his hurts by giving him everything he wants, and in Frozer Chat Noir basically says ‘fuck our friendship’ and bounces before Ladybug would even have time to process this. She’s not given the chance to feel any type of way about it before he comes back with a smile and they just start working together like nothing’s happened. As usual, Chat Noir isn’t made to reflect on any part of his behavior, he’s not humiliated or forced into saying sorry or has to suffer from someone else’s shame in him. As usual, Ladybug isn’t given a chance or space to feel upset about something that probably should put her in tears. The writers strip away all her self respect because to stand up for herself would mean that Chat Noir would have to face his actions in the same manner she does, with shame and regret, with a realization that he needs to improve something about himself, and we can’t have that.

But maybe I’m like, super wrong about this or something.

These tweets are important because they’re a insight into what the writers (or Astruc at least) think about their own characters, and I have to say, how Astruc talks about Marinette and Adrien is perfectly reflected on screen. His harsh, blunt language when talking about Marinette when discussing her flaws vs. how he waxes poetic or insist on things that aren’t true with Adrien’s behavior is telling.

‘Marinette has poor control of her emotions’ vs. ‘Adrien is perfect, He’s innocent and vulnerable, the outside world is what’s flawed.’

‘Marinette needs to move her ass she’ll lose Adrien’ vs. ‘Chat Noir sulked but apologized (what’s left unsaid is ‘so it doesn’t matter)’.

There is an insinuation that Marinette has deeper flaws and needs to be better or else, while Adrien is perfect, but when he’s not it isn’t his fault anyway so he doesn’t have to bend over backwards like Marinette to improve.

His actions, however confusing they are,

are what counts.

Astruc’s insistence that Adrien apologized when he actually didn’t shows their typical lack of awareness when it comes to their own show. You’d think there’d be a point from the writers in having Adrien refuse to move on by the end of the episode while Marinette was so willing to let go of her feelings for the sake of her friend’s happiness. He doesn’t even try to move on by the end, he doesn’t want to let go. And the narrative treats it like it’s fine, even in spite of Marinette and Luka both being willing to let go of their own feelings in the same episode. I just don’t get the intent, except that as usual Adrien can get away with awful behavior with a pat on the back (or in this case, a potential girlfriend who will probably give him everything he wants) while Marinette is just made to feel bad throughout the entire episode even though she is beyond selfless and patient.

The only saving grace in the entire episode for her was Luka, someone who had no expectations of her and is kind when he sends her off to Adrien so she can make some type of confession. I do think in the end she will also get a temporary honey in Luka, what I don’t like is the amount of internal and external punishment it is taking to get her there. She starts off by thinking she should just be friends with Adrien since she can’t even talk to him properly, she’s anxious and clearly hurt during the date except when Luka distracts her, Kagami is there to tell her to ‘move her ass or else’, Tikki offers no comfort, Chat is a rude bitch and she has to take it like a man, and in the end she’s made to try and confess to Adrien but her stuttering, something she felt incredibly bad about earlier in the episode, prevents her yet again. And it’s for the laugh. Luka’s involvement is a reprieve but it’s not enough, especially when you compare it to Adrien’s journey, which amounts to him sulking a bit only for a pretty girl to steer his gaze towards her instead because he deserves a girl that likes him, and he decides he’s going to keep pursuing Ladybug anyway for right now, at least until Kagami comes back and insists even more that he deserves better, probably. At this point ‘Adrien Deserves Better’ could probably be the show’s marketing campaign slogan(3).

This is now 3,500 words deep but I really do think this is important for everyone to understand if they actually care about this being a show about a girl for girls(4), because they just keep perpetuating these awful societal norms that you see all the time. Marinette is the main protagonist, the girl that younger girls are suppose to look up to, right? She’s certainly the only one learning lessons in this show, so it needs to be realized how damaging this could potentially be to someone watching. Here we have Marinette and Adrien, a girl and a boy, but only she is expected to reflect on her actions and improve her behavior, sometimes to a self-punishing degree. Only her mistakes are called out by other characters shamefully. Adrien (as Chat) can hurt her, but she’s expected to just keep taking it and instead has to consider his feels and make him feel better in any way that she can. When she is given natural emotional responses to a situation, the narrative doesn’t sympathize with her but demand that she rise about it (see Zombizou), but Adrien can throw a fit and get his way. These higher and harsher expectations girls have to live up to is an unfortunate reality for girls everywhere and it’s abhorrent just how blatantly encouraging ML and it’s writing staff are with it.

___________________________

Nathaniel is one of the only other characters to acknowledge his behavior towards Marc, feel bad about it, and make up for it.

Remember folks, Astruc believes that Chat Noir not wanting to involve Ladybug in his fight with Copycat is an acceptable apology. Also, for all fandom insists Ladybug doesn’t trust Chat Noir, the reality is fucking cute ain’t it.

Adrien deserving better in the context of what the show wants for him means that the writer’s think he deserves what he actually wants, which unfortunately for some of you, does not include getting a ‘proper akuma fight where he can outshine ladybug.’

If you don’t actually care this is a show about a girl for girls and are thinking of responding with a ‘shut up it’s a kids show’ or any variation of ‘marinette sucks’, rethink your life choices and just, don’t.

[whatcouldgowrong-ohthat]

Hard to be a Stark

I’ve learned that some of these are going to be mini series things within the overall world. I’m thinking Steve’s will have one more part. I have songs for Loki, and Bucky around the corner so keep a look out for those! And the sequels to Sam’s and Steve’s. :)

Also shout out to my beta, @songforherma. They are awesome and handle my crazy very well. XD

Summary: Various Avenger x Reader one-shots with songs from musicals. In this one — Tony Stark has been doing the Ironman for a while now. Kissing babies, shaking hands, still flirting all the live long day, but it’s getting harder and harder to put up the facade. So what happens when his new assistant, you, see him having a drunken heart to heart? Song is “Hard to be the Bard” from Something Rotten! 

Honestly - this one is a bit more platonic. If I write a sequel, the romance stuff will show up there.

Warnings: Angst, Drunk Tony, bit of fluff, confessions, cussing, reference to violence

Word Count: 3477 words

Please don’t post my writing anywhere else without my permission. :)

Stark. The name in itself held…

Power.

Money.

Authority.

Respect.

But with all those things came…

Assumptions.

Expectations.

Anxiety.

Mockery.

Hostility.

Ignorance.

And understandable sorts of coping mechanisms.

Then came the day he declared himself the Ironman - a superhero meant to protect civilians when no one else could. Gone were the weapons of probable mass destruction his company had become so well known for. Now they were replaced by one. A suit of armor in the hands of one man who could only do his best to protect his country. He wanted to believe he was doing the right thing, taking the suit, doing something with it that helped create peace.

Then New York happened. The Avengers.

Everything shifted. Assumptions and expectations skyrocketed. Anxiety twisted its gnarly claws around his heart, opening the door and introducing a new friend — Post-traumatic stress disorder. He could act like it wasn’t there and that it didn’t exist, but then came the outside opinions. It was easier to ignore them when he was just a Stark. He could put up a facade, act like it didn’t bother him because no one knew what was going on underneath.

You’re not the guy to make the sacrifice play, to lay down on a wire and let the other guy crawl over you.

Steve had cut him deep with that one. Mister Cap-sicle over here acting as he knew him. So what did he do?

I think I would just cut the wire. 

Of course, after Tony risked his life with that stupid nuke, Steve realized he wasn’t as correct in his assumptions as he first thought. Tony snorted, taking a swig of Scotch before setting it on the counter. “You know what they say,” he spoke to himself. “Just makes an ass of you and me.”

But he couldn’t hold it against the old man after all Steve was dealing with a  level of ignorance that came from being under the ice. His defense mechanism was mockery and hostility. Sitting in a chair, Tony stared stoically at the ironsuits across the room. They all looked like tin cans really, something made as a means for survival and turned into something greater. Leaning back in his chair, he crossed his arms. There was always some new hostile just around the corner. That didn’t go away with the suits. If anything, he and the Avengers were greeted by more of them every day which included all of the superhuman threats that the world suddenly kept on facing.

And that was where the coping mechanisms took a turn from understandable to downright unhealthy. Pepper had told him that, commented on it and voiced her concerns like Pepper always does. She needed to work on her timing. That night he’d been black-out drunk and didn’t remember anything. JARVIS had to show him the footage the next day. Guilt wracked his body because he didn’t remember. He didn’t remember screaming at her or throwing the bottle. He didn’t remember telling her to get the fuck out or the fact that he fired her. No, he didn’t remember. And when he watched the video, watched his drunken self shoot a repulser blast to shatter the glass next to her? It was like he felt his heart shatter with it because he knew he didn’t remember that. He knew if he had been any soberer he wouldn’t have done it. He would’ve called Rhodey or Happy to get her out of there before he did something stupid.

However, that was a couple of months ago and now he had a new assistant. Some girl named Y/F/N Y/L/N. She was good at her job and Pepper made sure to find someone that could handle his narcissism and ridiculous schedule, somehow someone of that nature managed to fit the bill. Still - she wasn’t Pepper. He appreciated that she acknowledged that. She never tried to be anything other than herself and it quickly earned his respect.

Ding!

Tony shifted his gaze to the computer when the email popped up. Y/N had sent him his schedule for tomorrow. Brushing it with his pinky, he watched as it popped out of the tiny screen and presented itself as a hologram before him. He couldn’t hide the annoyed huff that escaped his lungs even if he wanted to. “My days are too busy for this,” he muttered, knowing everything was back to back with barely a moment to breathe. It wasn’t Y/N’s fault. She was trying to catch him up on the reality outside. “It’s making me dizzy, there’s so much I gotta do.” Standing up, he walked closer to the schedule and his face scrunched in distaste. “JARVIS, there’s lunches and meetings and poetry readings and great, more interviews.”

“Sir, it’s about learning to combine your roles as a Stark and Avenger in a more efficient manner.”

Tony grimaced. “Traitor,” he told the AI before seeing the photoshoot he had to get up far too early for. If he even went to bed for that matter. “Gotta pose for some photos and how I deplore sitting there for eternity. Then it’s off to the bar where my bartender friend wants to name another drink after me?”

“Would you like for me to call Y/N, sir?”

At this point, Tony had stopped listening to the AI. No, his mind was far too focused on this schedule. “Then it’s back to my room, where I resume my attempt to fix this shit.” At least she knew to give him time in the shop so he could work on the suits.

“Just you and your beer?”

Of course, JARVIS would have a witty retort for that. He always did. Sitting on the edge of his desk, he felt a cold wash over him as he admitted, “And the terrible fear that I might be losing it.” Staring at the bright hologram, the grim reminders, he shook his head and swiped it away. He could think about that later. I mean, it’s not that important.

—

Hiss…

The sound was what woke him from his uncomfortable slumber. He stretched, his spine and shoulders cracking from the effort before he realized he’d fallen asleep with an iron arm in his lap. No wonder his legs were tingly. A lack of blood flow did that. Shaking his head in a futile attempt to rouse himself further, his bleary eyes and yawn signaled that he wasn’t quite there yet. His gaze ran along the lab floor, making sure he hadn’t left a random weapon lying around and it was there his gaze found your little black heels on the floor, tapping patiently. Or was it impatiently? Eh, he couldn’t bring himself to care. Instead, he stood and set the arm on the counter, sending one of his infamous “Stark smiles” your way.

It was met with the most patient look he had ever seen.

You weren’t irritated?

Tony wholeheartedly meant that today’s events weren’t important. However, that was when we initially thought it. Seeing your face? Seeing the way your brow furrowed not in annoyance, but concern? Yeah, maybe he should’ve put a little more effort into going to sleep.

“Coffee?”

His gaze shifted to the steaming cup that was outstretched in your hand. He took it, mumbling a barely coherent ‘thanks’ before taking in your appearance. Pepper always wore skirts. You wore pants. She always wore blouses. You were what looked to be a simple tank top or t-shirt underneath a blazer. It reminded him of his look. Maybe Pep warned you that the skirts and fancy clothes wouldn’t survive around an Avenger?

“Did Jarvis let you down here?”

“Nope.”

Now he was confused. “Then how —“

“Ms. Potts thought it’d be beneficial to your habits if you had someone capable of hacking.”

“Wait,” Tony gaped, eyeing you with more interest than a curiosity now. “You-You're a —“ You smile and it knocks the wind out of him. Grumbling to himself, he takes a sip of coffee. Tony didn’t really like being bested. “I want to say I’m impressed, but also that means you hacked into advanced tech when you could have knocked.”

“Would you have opened the door?”

“She has a point, sir.”

Tony looked up at the ceiling, raising an eyebrow. “You don’t get an opinion.” He knew they were both right, but did that mean he had to admit it? Really? Pinching the bridge of his nose, Tony walked back to the bottle that had been carelessly left behind on the table. He poured some of it into his coffee before drinking most of the hot, bitter, and now strong liquid. “Seriously, you’re a hacker?”

“Just for fun.” You shrugged and he snickered. You reminded him of when he first got into tech and making new things. It was just for fun then. His gaze shifted to the lab and he knew that wasn’t the case anymore. Meanwhile, you had turned to the iPad tucked into your arm, scrolling through it. “So first on the agenda —“

“Nothing.” You looked up, the puzzled expression enough to make him feel satisfied. He missed being able to stoop an assistant, confuse them and leave them floundering. If that was how it was going to be, he was sure you wouldn’t last long.

Recovering from your confusion, you tucked your hair behind your ear and shook your head. “No, Mr. Stark, there won’t be any cancellations today. You need to get back into the world. Everyone wants to hear from —“

“I don’t care what everyone wants. I’m Tony fuckin’ Stark. When have I ever cared about what other people want?”

“When your mother asked you to say goodbye to her and your father for a holiday, but you didn’t.” There was a brief moment of silence as the matter-of-fact tone shifted to a much softer one and you added, “They passed away that weekend in a car accident.”

Tony froze, his back to you. He would’ve expected some assumption that he cared when he cut off weapons production for Stark Industries. He would’ve expected some ignorant comment that he cared when he took that nuke into space. Apparently, between the two of you, he had been the one to slip up. He’d been the one to assume. Trying to recover, a wry smile curved his lips as he asked, “Figure that out in your time hacking my software?”

“No, sir. Happy told me. After…After the incident with Ms. Potts, he felt that I needed a little preparation as to the job I was being hired for.”

Happy. Yeah, Tony would remember to talk with the man at a later time. Turning to face you, he downed the rest of his coffee before dropping it in the bin next to his desk. “You know, it’s hard. It’s really hard.”

Confusion. Again. “I don’t understand.”

He grinned and gestured to everything, a perfected swagger in his step as he told you, “I make it look easy, but honey, believe me. It’s hard.”

“Yes, I gathered that from the hangover and the crutch you’ve developed for alcohol in the morning.”

Ah, you had bit more bite than he expected. Looping an arm around your shoulder, he was surprised that you refused to tense under his touch. They did prepare you for the mess that was Tony Stark. Waving his hand, holograms of videos on youtube, news articles, and various photographs appeared to surround you two. You took it all in, more curious than confused now that you started piecing together what he was getting at. “It’s so incredibly hard, so inconceivably, unbelievably hard.”

He was whining, throwing a tantrum because he wanted his way. You both knew it, but he didn’t know the assistant he had. “It’s hard to be a Stark?” you asked, a hint of sympathy in your voice as you stepped out from under his touch. Your eyes studied everything. These weren’t just something randomly picked. He had these saved. He studied everything that was said about him and, judging by the negative articles, he believed more of the bad than the good.

“Honestly? I don’t know how I do it.” You looked at him, but he no longer studied you. Instead, he was staring at the images just above. His voice was soft as he admitted, “There’s only so much of me to go around.” Seeing him like this, open and vulnerable, you weren’t sure what to expect. Perhaps it was the booze that made him act like this? No, you’d seen the footage. Pepper was completely open about Tony’s faults and wanted you to be prepared. On booze, he was angry. He wasn’t vulnerable, but far from it. But as soon as you blinked, just once, just a brief moment, that vulnerability was gone. It was replaced by that Stark smile that graced all the tabloids and interviews. “I’ve got so many fans with so many demands.” He looked at you, smirking. “I can hardly go take a piss.”

“Can’t even pee? I can schedule a bathroom break if you’d like.”

Tony snorted. Alright, he knew he was going to like you. “Be it a hero-freak or another autograph seeker, they all want a piece of this.”

“It happens when one is in the spotlight as much as you are,” you told him honestly. Walking to the desk, you took a seat and looked over the schedule, deleting a couple of things here and there. He spun around, distracted and looking at everything. Tony was doing everything he could to look like he was okay, but just watching him showed you that he was fragile. Instead of a whole man, he’d had pieces of himself chipped away over the years and it seemed his kidnapping had taken out a huge piece. Now he was struggling to glue together what was left.

“It’s a cross that I bear,” he agreed. “I’m like Jesus, I swear!” You rolled your eyes and he pointed at you, reminding you that, “It’s a burden, but I suffer through it.”

“He is suffering,” came JARVIS’s voice, a somehow mocking tone preprogrammed into the AI.

It made you laugh, but the sound died on your lips when Tony sat on the edge of the desk, his leg bumping your knee. “It’s all part of the game, the trappings of fame, but somebody’s gotta do it.” You looked up from your schedule, tucking it into your chest as you eyed him cautiously. He seemed to be tipping on an edge of sorts. Wasn’t this the sort of thing someone discussed with a therapist? Not their newest assistant? “And I know,” he mumbled, shifting his gaze from the floor to you. He leaned forward, nodding to himself as if he were trying to convince his brain. “I know I gotta go and get back to the fans and fame.”

“Yeah, you do.”

He rubbed his temples, huffing as he pleaded, “Don’t make me do it. Don’t make me go through it.”

“Mr. Stark —“

“Oh, I need to get me a drink.” He rose, moving faster than you could have anticipated. Colliding with the chair, he sent you rolling a few feet as he grabbed the bottle he’d been nursing. Taking a few good swigs of the burning liquid, he exhaled slowly. “It’s hard.”

“You’ve said that a few times, Mr. Stark.”

“Well, it’s true!” His shout made you jump though he didn’t seem to notice. No, he was long gone in his drunken stupor. Part of you was starting to wonder if he was even sober when he first woke. Sitting on the floor, he stretched his legs out and rest his head against the desk. He looked spent. “I know being a Stark made me famous,” he whispered. “But being famous is just so not fun.” Waving his hand again, the images of Ironman vanished. Instead, it was replaced by trashy tabloids and photos of himself and news articles with various women, at random parties, creating an image that he’d forced himself to maintain. The hologram divided you two, creating a wall it felt you had to break through if you had any hope of surviving this job. Picking up the bottle, he pointed to one of the older photos before taking another swig. “What people just don’t understand is that fame is demanding. It’s mentally challenging and it’s a bore, jeez, it’s such a chore.”

“To sit in a room full of people?”

To prove yourself to a room full of people

He shifted his gaze, meeting your eyes. There was a fog over the welcoming brown of his irises. Tony was drunk. Truthfully, he admitted, “I hate it.” He exhaled, his shoulders slumping. Would he continue? You weren’t sure.

“You know, you’re trying to find some short line or an innovative idea and you’re pacing the floor and hoping for…Hell, maybe just a bit of divine intervention?”

“Is that what happened with the suit?” You were curious, your tech-savvy brain aching to understand how he created something so brilliant. You were a hacker, sure, but that was nothing like being an inventor.

Upon mentioning the suit, he offered the faintest of smiles. It seemed it might be one of the better topics for him to discuss. “That was the one little nugget. That one little spark. I was ready to die and then eureka, I found it and I was ready to start.”

Silence fell between you two and you allowed yourself to smile, to feel at ease. If he remembered this, it might help him adjust to working with you. There’d be a level of trust. If not, then you could work with the information you’ve learned and slowly gain some level of traction with him. Everything took time and patience and the man sitting across from you was no different.

Not even close.

“It’s hard,” you finally agreed, earning his concentration once more.

“Wouldn’t it be hard to do something as good as the last thing you did?”

“It was already great.”

Tony shook his head and you felt like you took two steps back. He didn’t see it that way. He didn’t see himself or any of his accomplishments that way. “It’s totally hard. I’ve got fortune and fame. Everyone knows my name.”

“Can’t help it.”

“But it’s still freakin’ hard.”

You watched him carefully. He was so fragile at the moment, unlike you’d ever seen. You never would have thought of an Avenger as frail. That was your mistake. That was everyone’s mistake. The world had come to put these guys on pedestals with no concern for the fact that they were still human and broken. They all had scars and emotions to process so that they could form some semblance of a less than shattered individual. It hurt having to see it first hand, but you knew that if you hadn’t, you’d never believe it.

“You’ve taught me a lot, Mr. Stark,” you whispered, looking down at the tablet and clearing the schedule. There was always tomorrow, but today… You looked back at him. Today wasn’t the day. “I’ve cleared your schedule and will leave you to the rest of your day.” The surprise on his face made you smile. You had been a couple of steps ahead of the genius. “On two conditions.”

“Name them.”

“One, no more alcohol. Spend the day tinkering on something.” You shrugged as you stood up, waving one hand through the air to clear away the mess of history between you two. “Maybe create something new or go for a drive — something you want to do. And two, get some sleep tonight. I’ll be back tomorrow morning and we’ll try again.”

His eyes studied you as if trying to find the sneaky detail you were hiding from him. All his friends did that. Instead of being upfront, they hid a detail that would later be used to help him in some sort of way. That wasn’t the case with you. No, you were nothing but honest. No secrets. No ploys. “No alcohol and get some sleep.” Tony chuckled, holding up the bottle to you before dropping it in the bin to his right. “You got a deal.”

Progress. That was what you felt when you saw him willingly take you up on your offer. There was hope for a structured, professional relationship. “Thank you. I’ll see you tomorrow, Mr. Stark.”

Turning on your heel, you made your way to the door to give the man some peace and quiet.

“Tony.”

You paused, looking at him over your shoulder. “Sir?”

“Call me Tony.”

All you could do was nod before you left, closing the door behind you. Looking down at the schedule, you clicked on the title and slowly backspaced on the name “Mr. Stark”, replacing it with “Tony”. Well, surely it’d be a mostly professional relationship.

[ladynuwanda]

Heart of Darkness (Michael LangdonXFemale Reader) - Epilogue

(After reading Chapter 4, my dear @langdonsdemon suggested I wrote an epilogue and, to be honest, I had this idea on my mind all along... I actually broke my own heart writing this one, it was an experiment on sadness and pain, so if you’re not into that stuff I’d say let’s end Heart of Darkness with Sealed with a Kiss. 😉 I wouldn’t even have posted it, if it wasn’t for @laying-with-the-devil and @ccodyfern telling me it was safe, that y’all are not gonna hate me forever. But I’m still not sure... 🤔)

Chapter 1 (word count: 1,4K)

Chapter 2 (word count: 1,2K)

Chapter 3 (word count: 1,5K)

Chapter 4 (word count: 6,3K)

Epilogue (word count: 1,7K)

“2015 is gonna be my year!”, I thought as I left my hometown to live in the big city. The job my cousin got me at the library was a blessing, and he seemed kinda proud to use his influence to help me out, he really loved being able to say that he “knew people”. But the truth is that I couldn’t stand living in that same old town, walking the same old streets, meeting the same old people... not after that nasty breakup that nearly broke me for good. I needed a fresh start some place where no one knew me at all. Sure, missing my family was a bitch. But at least my mom let me bring Vanilla with me... cats are family, too!

I loved walking to work in the morning. Even though my cheap-ass apartment was small and plain, the neighbourhood I had to walk through to get to the library was actually kinda fancy. Beautiful large houses, with nice gardens... the men seemed smart, the women seemed kind, and the children seemed happy. It was the margarine comercial life, the kind of life I could aspire living, someday. My favourite house was the one with the roses. The scent was absolutely overwhelming, I always ended up slowing my pace as I walked past it. Sometimes I could see a little boy at the window, he would wave whenever he’d see me, his cute little angel face lighting up with a smile.

I have only actually met the owner of that house once. I felt a little excited, to be honest, like I was meeting a celebrity, or something. This impressive middle-aged woman, with her blond hair perfectly made, wearing an elegant - if a little old-fashioned - dress, while taking care of her flowers. I greeted her good morning as I walked by and complimented her on her roses. I regretted opening my mouth the moment she turned around to face me. The woman looked downright furious. Damn my small-town manners! Thinking every single person I meet is a potential friend... Why did I have to bother this lady? The way she stared me down made me feel completely stupid, like my IQ had dropped at least fifty points during the time she took to remove the cigarette from her mouth and puff out a long cloud of smoke.

“They are lovely, aren’t they?”, she said it like she meant the exact opposite, “I honestly can’t stand them. They’re my grandson’s doing. If I’d have it my way, I’d never again lay my eyes on a rose bush for the rest of my miserable life!”. I thought her grandson was the little boy that was usually by the window, and wondered how that cute blonde toddler could possibly be responsible for growing rose bushes. But she tilted her head slightly, pointing at a young man I hadn’t noticed before, tending to one of the other flower-beds. “Michael, be the gentleman I tried to teach you how to be, and give this young lady a rose...” I could almost hear the words she didn’t say out loud, but was most certainly thinking “so she’ll go away at once”.

The young man named Michael plucked a rose from the nearest bush and turned in my direction. He was apparently in his late teens, and I saw the glint of the sun on his golden curls as he stood before me, handing me the rose. He gave me a shy smile and an even shier look from under long eyelashes. “Thank you, Michael”, I felt a sudden urge to be extra nice to this boy, probably because of the harsh way his own grandmother had addressed him. His blue eyes lingered on mine a moment longer, warm and sweet, and he gifted me with a most dazzling smile. I smiled back and quickly composed myself as best as I could. Nodding a wordless farewell to his grandmother and him, I continued my walk to the library.

That had been my only encounter with Michael Langdon, until the morning I saw a range rover collide violently against his body, running him over. Shock turned into horror as I saw the driver put the range rover in reverse gear and run him over again. It stopped, Michael’s body rolling on the asphalt. I couldn’t believe my own eyes, but the range rover was moving forward again, running him over a third time, and driving away from its victim at sickening speed.

It stopped abruptly almost beside me, to avoid hitting a stray dog. That was the most absurd thing that could possibly happen after what I just had seen! The driver and I locked eyes for a moment, and I saw she had copious tears running down her cheeks. This “triple-hit and runner” was not a monster, she was just a girl... like me. She looked at me with a strange familiarity, like she knew me. I was feeling some of that familiarity towards her as well, although I couldn’t explain why. I was absolutely sure I had never seen those big brown eyes before in my entire life. But somehow, I knew... under different circumstances, in another life, we could have been friends. I just knew it, by the way she looked at me. “I’m sorry”, she whispered through her tears, and drove away sobbing.

Michael’s grandmother was with him now, and I kept walking towards them as fast as I could. I was almost there when she dropped him back on the ground and moved away from him. “Go to hell!”, she spat those words at her agonising grandson and turned around. She went inside her house without looking back, slamming the door shut with a violence that seemed unnecessary.

I don’t think she was calling 911.

I fell to my knees by his side, my phone already in my hand to try and get help. I felt my stomach drop as I looked at the bloody ruin that was his body. I wasn’t an expert, but I could tell he had several fractured bones, and possibly internal bleeding. His face was blood and tear-stained, his eyes wide. I couldn’t even begin to imagine the pain he was in, but when I looked into his eyes I saw mostly fear. I held one of his hands, the one that seemed less injured, as I dialled the number one more time. But no matter what I did, the call simply wouldn’t get through.

“It’s too late”, his voice was no more than a breathy whisper. He squeezed my hand faintly, his teary eyes pleading. I put my phone away and looked at him, both my hands holding his, I had to blink away my own tears so I could see him properly. “Stay with me”, he sobbed and I could almost hear the sound of my own heart breaking. “I’m here, Michael, I’m right here with you!”, my fallen tears making clear lines on his blood-stained cheeks.

“I’m scared... please... please, don’t leave me...”

“I’m not going anywhere, Michael, I swear!”

I had read somewhere that you were not supposed to move someone’s body in this situation, specially not the head. You may cause a new injure to the spine, and end up crippling the person for life. But I had a feeling that, no matter what I did, he was not getting up from there ever again. His body was beyond salvation, but his soul needed comfort. He was feeling scared and alone, and I could not bear the pain I saw in his eyes for another second. I pulled his upper body onto my legs, cradling him in my arms like he was a small child, caressing his face with my fingertips, doing my best not to cause him any more pain than he was already going through.

“You’re gonna be ok”, I knew I was lying through my teeth, but what else could I say? “It’s gonna be alright... just breath”, terrible advice, inhaling only caused him to cough and more droplets of blood escaped his mouth. “I’m sorry... I’m sorry... I’m sorry...”, I leaned over him, cupping his cheek with one hand, and touched his forehead with mine. At least now I was being honest, I really was sorry. He was making a hideous gurgling sound on the back of his throat when he breathed... I didn’t know what else to do, I just wanted to take the pain away from him, somehow.

“Maybe... I deserved it... it’s my own fault...”

“It’s not your fault, Michael! It’s not!”

“I just... I don’t wanna be alone...”

“You are not alone! You hear me? I’ll never leave you alone! Ever.”

He looked at me with unexpected sweetness, his blue eyes warm like molten silver. The expression of pain left his face, being replaced by something that looked almost like peace. He seemed to be breathing a little easier now, and I saw the shadow of a smile on his lips. I tried to smile back through my tears, running my fingers through his curls. I wanted him to know he was not alone, that someone cared for him. For a few moments we just didn’t move. The whole world seemed to stop. Time itself was still. We just looked at each other. Breathing. Nothing to be said or done. He just needed someone to be there for him, I just needed him to resist.

He took a deep breath and closed his eyes for a second, with an angelic expression. When he opened his eyes again, a real smile was spreading upon his face. “Thank you”, he said very softly, before the light left his eyes. Sobbing, I ran my fingertips gently over his blue eyes, to close them, and let a long, painful wail leave my lips, coming straight from my heart. He looked so much like a sleeping angel, his face was so peaceful, I felt like I was never gonna be able to stop crying again.

I was willing to pay whatever the price to give him that. To make sure he felt loved, at least during his final moments. And I payed the price. I payed for it with my own heart.

[minaminokyoko]

Favourite avengers movies scenes?

How on earth do you expect me to ever narrow down enough to not list the entire trilogy in general? Holy hell. I am a big fat Marvel fangirl and I could write a fucking dissertation on scenes complete with charts and graphs. For the sake of argument, let me see if I can at the very least just highlight the tippy top favorite moments from the first three Avengers films. Keep in mind, I fucking love all three of them to death and could rave about them for days at a time.

The Avengers

-Loki’s confrontation with Nick Fury. This scene sets the tone for the rest of the film so fucking well, man. It’s just brilliantly done to see that whatever humanity that we saw in Loki in Thor has pretty much flown out the window and he’s here to wreak havoc and start a war, and he doesn’t care how many people he destroys in the process. I also like that it shows the vast gap in power and experience between the SHIELD agents and an Asgardian. Loki all but flattens everyone in a matter of seconds. Seeing him among other Asgardians can kind of make you forget he’s literally a thousand year old god and is tough as nails. He’s also low down and ruthless and that’s the kind of thing that is scary as hell when you realize that’s what they’re all up against.

-Nat’s “interrogation” with the Russians. I actually love every single Avenger’s introduction scene, but this one is so delightful in that Nat shows us just why she is an Avenger even though she has no enhanced abilities: deception, manipulation, and just being an incredibly agile combat expert. I am most delighted with her scene because before Avengers, I had no regard for Nat at all and thought she was just fanservice, but here, she completely proved her worth as a character and to the team, and I got on board as a fan of her just from her opening scene wiping the floor with these idiot Russian dudes.

-Tony and Bruce getting to know each other in the lab. From a character standpoint, this is an outstanding scene. Tony is trying to draw Bruce out of his shell, and the sympathy and empathy he has for him is so palpable that it’s why we all dubbed them the Science Bros and why it’s one of the best friendships in the Avengers. Tony is so awesome for joking with Bruce and treating him like a normal person and reminding him that there is at least one person aboard that helicarrier who doesn’t see him as some terrifying monster and knows just from reading up on him that he’s not a bad person. It’s so charming and wonderful.

-Stuttgart. Man. Man, oh man, this is a well done scene. The build up to Loki’s horrifying actions is so great and so is this freaking diva’s grandstanding once he demands the poor, confused Germans kneel before him. It’s fascinating to me because Loki has an almost childlike need for attention, as if his frustrations with his failure to take over Asgard as king has manifested itself into this very basic need to be acknowledged as being a powerful threat. Loki could kill an average human being with a flick of his wrist. His comparison of “an ant has no quarrel with a boot” while cruel is accurate, but here’s the thing, Loki: if you fuck with enough fucking ants, you can get your ass into a lot of trouble, and we’re fireants, not sugar ants, buddy. And ants who band together get shit done. The old man who stood up to him, in my book, is a fucking hero all on his own and I think it’s one of the most well crafted pieces of dialogue in the entire MCU. “There are no men like me.” “There are always men like you.” Oh, standing ovation for that piece of dialogue. Give it an Oscar. Then Cap swinging in to kick ass and Tony swooping in beside him with an equally over the top entrance to Loki’s was the icing on the fucking cake.

-Thor retrieving Loki. Hnnnnnnngh, okay, so here’s the thing: I fucking love Thor and Loki’s relationship even before Ragnarok came out and upgraded it. Thor is and always has been since his first movie a man with very deep emotions who loves and loves deeply with all his heart, and his confrontation with Loki just wounds me so much. How Thor throws Loki to the ground and yet yanks him to his feet and just holds him there, his hand on his face, looking so torn between agony and relief that his brother is alive. “I thought you dead.” “Did you mourn?” Fuck me, this scene is absolutely brutal to my feels. Thor and Loki’s debate was nothing short of excellent as Thor tries to bring Loki around, and the thing is, he means it. He means every fucking word, that he would take the Tesseract and bring his brother home, and he doesn’t care about facing the music, he just wants his goddamn brother back even after all Loki has done so far in the story. Y’all better stop sleeping on Thor, man. His heart is by far the best thing about him, forget all the delicious muscles and that perfect teddy bear smile. Thor has miles and miles of heart, and that’s why I love this scene so much. 

-Nat tricking Loki into revealing his plan. This scene is so good I based an entire goddamn fanfic around its premise. Dude. Nat fucking Romanov, y’all. I love how this scene is staged and executed. I love Loki starting out almost gentle and conversational, as if for once he’s going to just be an actual person and not a monster, and then he slips back into that nasty egotistical megalomaniac when he thinks he has one over on Nat. And then Nat fucking schools him. It’s why I have a personal headcanon that he developed a hatecrush on her after she, a mere mortal, tricked the goddamn God of Mischief. It solidified Nat as one of my favorite female heroes forever. I loved seeing her use that feminine “weakness” to let him run his mouth. I also love that his cruel words did in fact affect her and motivated her even more to both save Clint and to go to war with Loki at the end.

-The whole ass helicarrier attack sequence. I mean, I don’t even need to go into detail. You already know. 

-Tony confronting Loki. This is the scene that assured us that what followed would be one of the greatest fight sequences in cinematic history. I pretty much have most of Tony’s dialogue memorized because it had such an effective impact on me from a storytelling standpoint. Tony standing up to Loki as a mortal man with no suit, candidly threatening him with barely suppressed rage that Loki murdered Coulson, a comrade, in cold blood, is downright amazing.

-The battle of New York. Boom. Again, no words necessary. Perfect fucking sequence from start to finish.

-Thor trying one last damn time to bring Loki around. Oh, my heart. My poor fucking heart. Thor really loves his brother and he would do anything to have him back. Is it naive? Yes. But it’s also a beautiful statement of what family truly means to Thor and it breaks my heart. The fact that a tear slides down Loki’s face when he stabs Thor and mutters, “Sentiment” is so not cool. As much as Loki pretends to be the Big Bad Wolf, there is something still young and human inside of him even though he pretends it isn’t there. All my creys.

-Hulk trouncing Loki. I went and saw The Avengers three times in theaters, and two out of the three times, everyone cheered so loud I didn’t hear the Hulk say “puny god” over all the noise. It was that satisfying a scene.

Age of Ultron

-The entire beginning sequence. Fucking loved it. What masterful ass-kicking and showcasing of the team dynamic. It made me want a longer lead in to how they all got reunited because it was so enjoyable. “Language!” Oh, Cap.

-Jarvis and Ultron’s first scene together. Dude. James fuckin’ Spader, man. I never knew I could be so intimidated by a man���s voice. It was so unsettling for so many reasons, the resentment, irrationality, and anger from his unusual birth and creation. It was all the more frightening when he turned on Jarvis, and at the time, we didn’t know he hadn’t killed our beloved butler. 

-Picking up Mjolnir. This scene needs no elaboration. It’s just perfection. Even people who complain about Age of Ultron admit this scene is just flawless.

-The team confronting Tony over creating Ultron. Cap’s line, which we now know goes even further after the events of Infinity War, just make me want to die. “We’ll lose.” “Then we’ll do that together, too.” Tony’s face, realizing that Cap doesn’t care that he fucked up–he cares that Tony couldn’t trust the team enough to let them in on what he was dealing with–is soul-crushing. Tony realizes he was wrong to assume instead of being honest with them. 

-The confrontation in Wakanda. Everything about it was badass and it hits you right where you live seeing the Avengers having to face their biggest regrets and most painful moments of their pasts. Especially Steve’s. The image of him and Peggy finally getting their dance was so not okay. Special props to Tony in the Hulkbuster armor. That was one hell of a fucking brawl.

-The Sokovia final battle. There are just so many awesome points in the final battle sequence, man. Everyone is out there just kicking ass and doing what they do best. Special props to Hawkeye getting through to Wanda, and Hawkeye’s “nobody would know…nobody” moment with Pietro. 

Infinity War

Disclaimer: I have no idea how to isolate moments in a movie that is by far one of the most well written comic book movies since The Dark Knight, but I guess since you asked, I have to try anyway. Hoo boy. Strap in. 

-Loki’s death. Let me explain something to you: I went entire years without caring about Loki, and then around the time The Dark World came out, I slowly became converted to both a Tom Hiddleston and a Loki fan, and then after Ragnarok, he finally just seduced me completely to being smitten with his stupid trashy self. It is important that you realize that I recognize that Loki is a selfish, inferiority complex-having, murdering bastard and I do not excuse a goddamn thing he does because of his fucking Daddy issues. That being said, in spite of how much of a flaming trashbag he is, I love him anyway, and I tried for months to tell myself that I knew as a fellow writer that Loki was going to die in Infinity War. It was assured not only from the trailer, but from me knowing that his character arc was always going to end with his death. What hurt most of all is that, as I predicted, Loki died trying to save Thor. I cried my eyes out. Hell, once Thanos closed his hand around Loki’s neck, I covered my eyes because I just didn’t have it in me to see it end this way for him and for Thor. Thor being helpless to stop it is truly what made it worse. There is nothing on heaven or earth Thor wouldn’t do for Loki, even knowing how wicked Loki is. And the fact that Loki couldn’t let Thanos kill Thor after all these two have been through was like an icepick through my heart. Loki wouldn’t have died protecting Thor if Thor had not loved him unconditionally this entire time we’ve watched their story. Thor’s love did have an effect on Loki throughout these films, and that’s why I literally burst into sobs and couldn’t bear to see him die that way. It is one of the most gut wrenching things ever put to film, and certainly in the MCU. I’ve only had the stomach to watch that scene twice because it hurts me so much, and neither time was I strong enough to actually watch Loki’s final moments. Goddamn, it’s just so painful. Capped off with Thor slowly crawling over to his brother to be with him one last time before the ship explodes and just laying his head on his chest in the kind of grief that honestly should get Hemsworth a fucking Oscar. Bravo. 

-Cap, Widow, and Falcon reuniting with Vision and Wanda. Holy shit, yes. This fight was gorgeous, gripping, and fucking awesome. Special props to Cap and Widow being the ride or die Avengers Mom and Dad team. We can infer from their actions that the two of them have been together since the end of Civil War possibly, so you can not tell me Cap and Widow are not a thing on some level. Captasha all day, err day. They perfectly compliment each other and I headcanon that they’re together and no one will convince me otherwise.

-”We’ll fight you too.”/”We don’t trade lives.” That sound you hear is me screeching. Some people have said Cap wasn’t given a ton to do this time around, and I emphatically protest it simply because, yes, he has less screentime, but man, he does so much work in this role that reminds us of why we all love Captain America. His values mean so much. Cap will lay down his life in the blink of an eye for someone who needs it. He cares so deeply. He is the pinnacle of selflessness and it’s so important to see in this film.

-Thor meeting the Guardians. Perfection. Just…perfection.

-Irondad and Spiderson aboard the Space Donut. Jesus fucking Christ, I am so on board for Irondad and Spiderson that it’s insane. I love that entire fucking interaction from start to finish. I love Tony’s strict, fatherly anger and exasperation because he just wants his baby boy to be safe on earth while he’s on another suicide mission, but the baby boy wants to help his dad out and baby boy also doesn’t quite realize the consequences because he’s too young. Extra points for Tony’s death-glare after Parker says, “It’s kind of your fault I’m here” and the fact that even the fucking cloak did a double take at Parker when he said it. Oh, it’s so perfect.

-Gamora making Peter promise to kill her if Thanos gets to her. I just…I want to die. This was so beautifully done, and so in character for both of them, and Peter and Gamora are just so soft and sweet and in love that it’s so overwhelming. At the very least, I take a small comfort in knowing that they were a happy family for four years before this shit happened to them.

-Gamora “killing” Thanos. Again, can we just award Oscars to like half the fucking cast in this movie? Jesus Christ, I cried at this scene too because the fact that she’s just completely unraveled as she finally thinks she’s killed her goddamn abuser is so deeply tragic. Gamora is my favorite Guardian. Hands down. She is so three dimensional. She tries so hard and she is so much more than the deadliest woman in the galaxy. She is so complex and it is the worst pain ever to know that Peter actually kept his promise and tried to kill her to prevent her from being in the hands of her abuser again and Thanos foiled their plan, and had the fucking nerve to say, “I like him” before he took her again. 

-”It’ll kill you.” “Only if I die.” “…yes, that’s what killing you means.” 

-The battle of Wakanda. Motherfucker. This is some A+++ motherfucking good shit hurr. What always gets me hype as hell is Cap and T’Challa sprinting down the goddamn hill at 80 mph and I just can’t even handle that shit because it was so good and satisfying. Everything about this battle was incredible.

-The battle on Titan. Same thing. It’s so creative and well crafted and amazing. You feel every blow. You flinch. You want them to beat that son of a bitch but he’s just so fucking strong. It is an incredibly engaging fight, man. Hoo boy. 

-Thor’s entrance to the battle of Wakanda. I distinctly remember the entire audience going absolutely apeshit during this scene the night Infinity War premiered. Like the first Avengers, I saw it three times in theaters, and two out of the three times, the crowd went fucking wild. That was so fucking satisfying, man, as are the neat little scenes of levity with Cap introducing himself to Groot and Cap and Thor remarking on each other’s changes in appearance. It was so pure and good and perfect.      

-Cap squaring up with Thanos. I. Can’t. Breathe. It was so powerful. Like the above scene of “we don’t trade lives,” this is why we love Captain America. Why we love Steve Rogers. This man, this mortal human man, took one goddamn fucking look at that twelve foot all powerful alien giant and said, “Not today, bitch.” Steve fucking Rogers stood there and took it. He put his life on the goddamn line for Wanda, and for Vision, and for the rest of the universe, and he actually held that goddamn line for a moment. The incredulous look on Thanos’ face is what seals it. He is utterly confused that this little man is actually holding him back, that this mere mortal doesn’t give a fuck that he can’t overpower him, but he is giving it his all because that is who he is. Steve will not quit. Steve will not falter. Steve will die doing what’s right and that is one of the most moving things in the whole MCU, imo. He just planted his feet and said, “No, you move.” I know we saw that scene in the trailer, but it was so unbelievable to see it in context that Cap gave it everything he had trying to protect Wanda and the rest of the universe, and I still get choked up just thinking about that shit. 

Welp, you asked for it and now you have it. I told you I was gonna rave, man. God bless anyone who actually read this nonsense. Marvel had me at hello with these characters and they have way too much sway over my emotions, as you can see above. Ten years, man. Ten years. 

[tennecois]

Further down the rabbit hole

If I’m being honest, I’ve been very proud of myself for how I’ve managed and handled my love- yes, love- for Bryan. It’s been indescribably hard, especially in the quiet hours when I am alone with my heart and my old friends doubt, self-hatred and anxiety. It’s tried me in more ways than I thought it would at the onset and has carved deep and painful scars into my heart. Coupled with what I suspect is some semblance of seasonal affective disorder, my love threw me into a tailspin that I honestly didn’t see myself ever pulling out of. But through almost two months of talking, writing, singing and laughing my broken heart back together, I’m able to walk forward into the Spring sun a cracked and bruised yet stronger and more radiant man.

I was quite surprised to see his message. He never reaches out to me first for anything, let alone to spend time together. “Hey Aaron, you free to get coffee sometime today?” My heart immediately started on its learned path of baseless hope in a relationship that would never be. Thankfully, my emboldened and strengthened conscious mind took over and didn’t bend - I’d made plans to help someone that afternoon and instead of rearranging to fit for him I stayed firm. He didn’t mind, as one shouldn’t of course, and we simply set a time for the following day. It was something incredibly simple, yet a monumental victory for my overly-accommodating self.

I somewhat forced us to go to Crew Collective, one of my very favorite spots in the city. I’d been trying to take him there for months with zero luck but I finally won, again, by standing firm in what I wanted. As usual it was kind of crowded, but I didn’t really mind since its nice to be among people and it provided a human buffer against any strong outburst of emotion that could’ve erupted out of me at any moment. He started our conversation with “there’s something I want to talk to you about.” Fuck. I honestly thought this was going to be the day that he told me he’d found a girl he loved or that he didn’t want me around anymore because I creeped his blessed little conservative Christian heart out.

Boy, was I wrong. Wrong isn’t a strong enough word here.

“I don’t know how to say this, and I want to be sensitive to your feelings, but it has something to do with what we talked about last time we went for coffee.” I actually felt myself getting angry. I really did not want to talk about this now - we were both going to a party that night and would be intoxicated in a small room together and the last thing I wanted was to be in a mood while chugging a fifth of Bacardi Gold. Then he hit the gas: In a sudden and unexpected turn that if I’m being honest I could’ve seen coming but not that day, he began to tell me that he was exploring his sexuality. I’m sorry, WHAT?!?!?!? I’ve never felt such a wide range of emotions in .45 seconds as I did when that came out of his mouth. You could’ve knocked me over with a feather. Over the course of the next hour, after I regained consciousness of course, we talked through some of his questions and some of my experiences that I thought might resonate and help him out. He was so much more open about his thoughts than I would have ever expected, particularly for someone raised like he was, in a very strict and sexually repressive conservative Christian household.

He had marked me as his confidant and there was no clear exit in sight to make a break for it, so I had to sit on my modern luxe barstool with my fair-trade flat white like the shitty white gay I am and brace myself for my emotions to be hit with the force of his in a disastrous wreck. I was stuck talking to the man I love about his sexuality after he’d made it quite clear that it did not involve me in any way. But I had a choice to make in this instant; either shut down and be angry and hurt or suck it up, grow a pair and be who Bryan needed me to be in that moment, who I needed in that moment five years ago. Having grown quite a bit of late and also being a touch of a pushover, I knew the latter option was really the only one. In truth it’s what I’ve wanted to do for him since we met, as I’m not stupid and I knew he had some gay shit going on in that little churchy rat’s nest that is his brain. I could see the relief in his eyes when it was clear that I was putting myself aside to help him and that there was someone who truly understood just how challenging and downright terrifying this type of personal discovery can be for good Christian boys.

And yet as I tend to do in my selfish and egocentric way, I found some sticking points that were like little darts thrown into my heart in the midst of this tender and vulnerable moment between friends. First, what seemed to have prompted this entire meeting was that I had “super-liked” him on Tinder. I did this because Tinder as an app is rather glitchy and will show me straight men and girls irregularly so when I saw him I did that because I knew a straight person would likely never see it. That wasn’t the sticking point, but rather that he’d seen it and had clearly swiped left. Next, he made it very clear that this was something he wasn’t even sure would be a part of his identity. This is truly understandable to one who was also taught that being gay was the ultimate sin and that no other error or transgression could compete with its inherent evil. When saddled with a worldview like that early in life, one has to unlearn a lot of negative thoughts and patterns before a normal and healthy understanding of one’s own sexuality can grow. The final point was just how many times he called me a “good friend” and called me “man” as we hugged goodbye. This one tells itself, really.

The mind can go wild over something like this, as mine did and likely will continue to do. I don’t know what this means for him and I if anything and I cannot yet know how badly this will affect me emotionally. In reality, he wasn’t sensitive to my feelings at all as he simply avoided them the entire time. It wasn’t until after we left the shop and were walking back to the school that I told him just how badly he fucked me up and all he could say was a genuine but rather absolved-of-responsibility “sorry.” I told him rather plainly that sorry just wasn’t good enough, but still thanked him for the apology because I’m not an asshole. It just crushed me that I got closer than I ever have to finding someone that would love me back and I still missed the mark somehow. However, I have to be gentle with myself because like I told him and so many other friends, how others react to our truths is not our responsibility. We can only be open, honest and vibrant and if someone else doesn’t fit in our sphere, we’re not responsible for it and cannot force them into something they do not want. It does not detract from how beautiful, courageous, loving, warm and downright incredible we are - I mean, I am.

I still love him so very, very much. He’s moved closer to being able to love me and yet continues to push away. I wish him luck on his journey, but as I said at the end of my still unsent letter to him: “I just pray that one day we meet again somewhere down the road and maybe, just maybe, we can walk the rest of the journey together.”

Montreal, March 25th 2017