#drop gadget repeat

[low-quality-odd-squad]

[personinthepalace]

I am currently staying at a hotel, and look at what is on TV!!

Odd Squad!! And it’s one of my favorite episodes too - Drop Gadget Repeat!!

With Oscar during the interstitials :)

[personinthepalace]

it’s because you’re always in that damn time loop

[alienzil]

Okay so I saw this post and you know the types of fics where adult Danny moves to Gotham and winds up emotionally adopting one or more of bat kids or accidentally coparenting with Bruce (with or without a relationship between them)? I had the thought, what if Danny parented the bat kids but he started doing it out of spite?

Like, Danny moves to Gotham and runs into Batman and Robin one night while out for a late night flight and drops down to the rooftop to say hi.

Bruce sees this 5'6" twink that looks like a stiff breeze could knock him over and is so obviously new in town and thinks Gotham is going to eat him alive, he needs to leave before he gets killed.

Batman: Looming menacingly and in his deepest scariest Batman voice, "Leave. Metas aren't allowed in Gotham."

Danny: Offend! Excuse?! Who does this guy think he is?! 😡 Danny was trying to be polite here! "First of all, I'm not a meta. Second of all, rude much?!"

Batman: Does scariest bat glare. "Leave." Swoops off into the night.

Robin (Damian): "My father is correct. You should leave the city for your own safety."

Danny sees this tiny vigilante child with fierce expression and a sword and is just like awww, so cute! 😍 Then he noticed Robin had a small cut on his arm and his inner gremlin activates. If the rude flying furry can't take care of his own kid properly, Danny will do it better!

He bandages up Damian's arm, gives him a cookie and teaches him a neat sword trick before sending him on his way with a hug telling him he needs his sleep.

Danny goes out of his way to run into the bat kids and be the absolute best dad.

He takes Nightwing flying and throws him in the air so Nightwing can do all the fanciest acrobatic tricks.

He tracks down Red Hood and starts a book club with him (Danny may or may not have used his connection with Ghost Writer to get ahold of some rare books).

He eats waffles with Spoiler and trys out weird topping combinations that make them both make faces and laugh.

He makes new gadgets for Red Robin but carefully breaks them just a little bit and takes them to the teen so they can fix them together (it's enrichment!). He always insists RR keep them as a reward.

He follows Signal around during the day invisibly, making faces and doing tricks only Signal can see (he made him laugh in front of the police at a crime scene twice!).

All of the kids get his attention and love and Danny smugly thinks how Batman must be absolutely seething about his kids bonding with Danny and Batman missing out on all of it.

Danny started it out of spite but he does wind up genuinely loving the bat kids.

Batman definetly hates it when the kids are bonding with Danny and is extremely jealous (sulky Batman brooding in his cave about it).

Bruce's repeated attempts to intimidate Danny into leaving Gotham don't work and him telling his kids to stay away from Danny had zero effect (the terrible children don't listen to him at all).

So Bruce starts spending more time with the kids to compete against Danny. The bat kids love it and (little gremlins that they are) use the two of them against each other constantly.

Bruce:"Sorry Tim, I can't make it to your photography exhibit this weekend, there's a meeting with the Justice League."

Tim:"Oh that's fine... I'll just ask Danny to come." 😏

Bruce: Narrows his eyes and grits his teeth, "Actually, the Justice League needs to have contingencies in place to manage without my input. This would be a good time to test their capabilities. I'll skip the meeting and come to your exhibit."

With both of them competing to spend more time with the kids it leads to the two of them spending time with each other to be around the kids more.

After Damian catches a terrible flu bug, Danny spends an entire weekend at the manor babying him. This is when Bruce finds out Danny has known their secret identities for months and tries to get mad about it but Alfred puts his foot down, raises a judgmental eyebrow in Bruce's direction that puts a stop to that nonsense and sets up Danny with his own room in the family wing.

Eventually, Danny gets to the point where he spends most of his nights at the manor and he and Bruce consult each other on all major household decisions.

The whole family is at the manor one morning including Danny. Bruce has a meeting at WE and he and Danny are absently discussing their plans for the day at the breakfast table.

Bruce: " The meeting should take most of the morning and then I have paperwork this afternoon and a scheduled walk through on one of the new engineering projects. I probably won't be done by the time school let's out. Can you pick up Damian today?"

Danny: "That shouldn't be a problem. Would you mind swinging by the bookstore on the way home and getting my preorder? Jay and I just finished rereading the first book and we were wanting to start the second tonight before you all go on patrol. I'd rather not try to make it to the bookstore in school rush hour traffic"

Bruce: "Sure."

Stephanie watches Danny reach out and absently straighten Bruce's tie as they both get up to leave. Bruce grabs Danny's coffee thermos and hands it to him while they walk out the door.

Stephanie: "Sooo, bets on how long until they realize they're basically married?"

[scandinavianfairytale]

Fate

Pairing: Feyd-Rautha x F!Reader

Warnings: Kidnapping, obsession, attemped murder, actual murder, mentions of knives, one forced kiss, Feyd believes in his dreams & calls it fate 🙈

Feyd-Rautha smirked to himself as one of his guards rushed to tell him the news of the dead soldier. The guard graveled as his Lord excused himself from the meeting and casually strolled out of the room. It was time for sleep anyway.

If the soldier is dead, that means she probably took his knife. Feyd continued smiling as he approached the locked room you were kept in. My Little mouse.

As the door opened you clutched the knife behind your back and anxiously waited for your captor to enter the wretched room. You observed him as he entered and discarded his clothes, your eyes sneaking to the little gadget that prevents him from getting stabbed. Either he was oblivious or he was confident. Either way, this predicament you were in ends tonight.

You tried masking your breathing as he slowly advanced to you, your anxiety (or was it fear?) rising with each one of his steps. He seemed relaxed and that was your cue. Masterfully, you brought the knife out from behind your back and with all your strength plunged it at his abdomen.

Your victory, if you could call it that, was short lived as you realized that while the knife made impact, it made impact with his hand. You stared at his grip on the knife, clutching the blade as blood slowly dripped from it. His face was twisted in delight. And even though you were afraid, you hoped that your captivity will still come to an end, this time by the hands of your captor.

He easily pulled the knife out of your hands, as he sensed your defeat. Feyd chuckled at your boldness, you actually had the gall to try and kill the na-Baron. He already knew you were a good and sly fighter, but he didn't realize you were also this brave. He observed your demeanor and he realized you were hoping to get killed. Maybe escape was not on your mind.

"Don't worry, little mouse. I won't hurt you." He smirked. "Yet." He kept his eyes glued to yours as he discarded the knife and licked his blood-stained hand. He loved the sweet metal aftertaste the blood left behind in his mouth.

"I hate you."

"I know." His chuckle rumbled from deep within his chest. Like he found it so amusing.

"Why are you doing this then?" You gestured to the long chains that were shackled to your wrists. "Why am I here?"

"Because I want you." Feyd spoke so matter-of-factly, like it made complete sense. He breached the small distance between the two of you and stared into your eyes. "For the past couple of years, I dreamt of a figure that will lead me to becoming Emperor. She was by my side as the houses bowed down to me."

As he spoke, you recognized the dream. You've had it as well, on repeat for the last year. Feyd smirked as he saw your recognition.

"She was always hidden by a mask, her face just out of my reach. But then I took control of Arrakis, and this sand finally unveiled her." He took a dramatic pause. Like he didn't already know what the next sentence out of his mouth would be. "It was you."

"So I searched for you until I found you." Feyd caressed your hair, as if you were the most precious thing in his possession.

"Let me get this straight, because of a reoccurring dream you decided to kidnap me and keep me locked in here?" Your face hardened in disgust, flinching away slightly.

"Not a dream. Fate."

"I didn't peg you for one of those people that believe in fate."

"You're the reason why I believe in fate."

"And now what? What's your plan?" You barked.

"I'll keep you here until you submit. Until I can have you by my side, willingly. And then we take what is ours." His voice dropped to almost a whisper, and his hand traveled from your hair to your chin, gripping it tightly and lifting your chin up. You wanted to turn away as it became too overwhelming, but his lips came crashing down on yours. You felt as if he consumed you. It was too much, but Feyd's hands enveloped you, bringing you even closer together.

He couldn't get enough of you. You had a taste to you that he couldn't place. Something foreign but at the same time familiar. It was as if you were his own personal drug that he took for the first time.

Your hands pushed up against his bare chest, trying to push him away, but he wouldn't budge. So you bit him hard, drawing blood, and finally, he let you go, with the softest moan leaving his lips. You weren't under any pretense - he let you push him away. For what reason, you weren't sure, but you were glad he was a safe distance away. You willed yourself to swallow the bile that rose in your throat as his blood left a bitter taste in your cavity.

Feyd ran his fingers over his lips and sucked the blood from them. He smirked, his teeth stained with his own blood. "You really like hurting me today, Little mouse. I like this side of you."

"Take the cuffs off, and maybe you'll like me even more." You challenged, your voice shaky as you were still trying to catch your breath.

"Please, give me some credit. I may be reckless and up for a good fight, but you still killed your guard and took his knife, hoping to do the same to me. I'd be downright stupid if I let you out of those cuffs." Feyd chuckled, and he walked past you towards the only bed in the otherwise nearly empty space.

"Come now, it's time for bed."

"I'm not tired."

"That wasn't a suggestion." His voice was harder, like he was warning you. In your mind you knew, but you felt stubborn, especially after this whole debacle. So, you refused to move. Feyd didn't hear your footsteps, and he slowly turned his head to glance at you from over his shoulder. You could see how his back strained.

"You have one more chance to listen. If you don't, I will not be lenient, no matter what fate tells me." Feyd spoke in an ominous voice, and it made you rethink your choice. Slowly, you made your way towards him, and he slowly entered the bed, with you following him.

This has become a routine for you. Every night, Feyd would come back, and he would sleep next to you, holding some part of you. Most of the time, he held your hand, but tonight, he pulled you close and tucked you under his chin, inhaling your scent.

And just like any other night, while Feyd-Rautha slept peacfully, you didn't sleep a wink.

Thank you for reading! 😊✨️

The GIF belongs to the amazing creator 😊💪

[https-lvesick]

now playing: 200 - minhyung's version by mark

summary ・ after losing the people he loved the most, mark could never move on... but is it really that bad when you return? ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤgenre ・ angst (that's the first idea that came out when i was listening to this fucking song, thanks mark) ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤcontent ・ grieve, character death, spiderverse is mentioned (and used), silk!reader again because i love her! lowkey toxic at the end but... uh... yeah... ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤwc ・ 1980

[notes] i may be a bit uh... invested in spidermark, i admit it. this idea came out when i was listening to the mentioned song lol and whenever you guys see a post "now playing" keep in mind that the fic was plotted because of the song! ngl i literally sobbed real hard while writing the first two paragraphs... i guess i was a bit overwhelmed...

and there he was again. sitting on top of a building, doing your favourite activity together, looking at the moon. his mask was discarded beside bim, his phone in hands, earbuds paired and the song he wrote for you was playing on repeat while he watched some videos of you.

if only he had been faster. you would be there too, with him. now he has no one for him. he wasn't capable of saving the people he loved the most so why is the city still counting on him? why was he doing all of this when, out of all people in the country, he couldn't save only two...

"baby, look! aren't they the cutest?" you point to a pet café, where three cats could be seen by the window.

"they surely are! oh look, they're greeting you!" his voice is joyful. the soft and lovely tone and the sparkling eyes whenever he looked at you or even thought about you were undeniable signs of his love and adoration for you.

"can we have one when we move in together?" you asked, looking at him over the phone. and who was him to deny when you looked so adorable like that?

"we surely can, love." he giggles. It was one of his many memories with you, but this one is where you mentioned moving in with him. a tear dropped at the screen, wetting the phone and suddenly, there was mark again, sobbing.

you finally graduated from high school and were going to attend the same university, so why not move in together? you've spent years together, attached to the hip, in a joyful friendship, which later evolved into a romantic relationship and you couldn't been happier. mark and you were sure you could handle each other's weird habits and were ready for that. let's be honest, you've seen each other at its worst multiple times, and nothing could make your relationship weird.

that time... when he stupidly let you go... you were excited. talking about new cute decorations you found on a website and cat's products for the new addition to your and mark's family.

but that fucking scumbag needed to target you. he needed to take you from him...

every single day mark still reminisced in that moment. he couldn't think of anything other than you. you were his first thought in the morning when he woke up and the last when he was going to sleep. he tried to focus on the good parts. when he had you. but it was hard not to remember he was the one to blame for your loss. after all, he was your superhero. your spideyboy.

his heart clenched again and, by that time, his face was completely drenched in tears. he couldn't stop thinking about you. and this was making him sicker and sicker every day.

the gadget on his suit blinked, announcing a new mission for spiderman. and that was the one thing keeping mark alive. he was trying to compensate for his loss by overworking himself.

"imma make it for you, my love..." he mumbled to himself, drying, uselessly, his face, before standing up.

honestly, mark didn't know how he ended up in this situation. suddenly the city was full of spiders, which he didn't even know that could exist.

"so wait... uh... you're... me... but from another universe?" he tried to cope, he was, really hard, but... how did that happen?

"not you, i'm me, but yeah..." the other spider said. "and there's someone else, silk. as soon as she found out about it, she was willing to help us." he smiled.

"yeah! she travels through the multiverse a lot!" the blonde girl said, swinging her legs.

"but she's a bit late, i see..." the spider who seemed the oldest, spoke, grumpy as always. mark had already noticed it...

they were discussing loudly and mark's head was spinning. when, in a million years, he could guess there were other spiders? and that there was a multiverse. and that he could travel through it whenever he wanted.

suddenly an orange portal appeared and another spider could be seen coming. another woman.

"sorry guys, i was... busy..." she reasoned, wiping off some blood on staining her suit.

as soon as she spoke, mark felt a pang in his heart because why is her voice so identical to yours? and your body proportions? yeah, he was really confused.

but, when the named silk, took off the part of her suit that was hiding half of her face, mark's blood drained. his face was terrified and the blonde girl named gwen noticed it.

"hey... you fine?" she asked, tapping his shoulder.

the spider version of you approached him with concern in your eyes. "uh... mark, right? what's wrong?"

everything was wrong! it was you! his love, his girlfriend. the woman he'd burn the world for if this meant to keep you safe. you were alive? and a spider in another universe? what the fuck was going on?

"y-yeah... i just... need some air..." he quickly grabbed his mask and put it on.

"we literally on top of a building..." the other spider named mark mumbled, watching the guy jump off, swinging on his webs.

it was kinda comic the amount of times the spiderman could be spotted up in buildings in random times of the day doing nothing. actually doing the same thing he had been doing for good seven months... thinking.

"great thing you're fine. i thought you were about to pass out." behind him there was your voice. he pressed his eyes together, trying to remember: you were not you. she was not you.

"sorry..." he mumbled. "i was... uh... having a hard time..." he tried to reason. but as soon as you sat beside him, he lost it completely. but how could he cope when she was exactly like you. when she even had the same scent he could never forget.

"you know... that grumpy man out there and me are kind of... responsible for this uh... spiderverse thing. so i kinda feel like we could take care of you. and i'm definitely in charge of gwen, so you can report her behaviour to me if needed." you laugh and mark can feel his heart warming at his favourite sound. "the point is... if you need to talk... i'm here to listen..."

oh and he wants, more than anything. he wants to tell you how much he misses you. how he wants to just leave this life of superhero and maybe kidnap you, so you can live together, far away from this mess of a life. but... it's not you... it's not.

you sighed and smiled, caressing his shoulders before standing up. maybe you got the hint, he didn't want to talk, or maybe he wasn't ready for it.

"i had a girlfriend..." he blurted out and you stopped. even if he wasn't mentally prepared to talk about you again, especially with someone who is a carbon copy of the woman he loved the most, mark knew he needed to. he needed to release this fog of blame that was plaguing his mind and heart ever since the beginning.

you kept your distance, trying to make him as comfortable as possible.

"she was... the girl of my dreams, you know." he smiled, already feeling the tears starting to prick up in his eyes. "did you ever feel like... living in heaven just by having a special person by your side?" he asked and you hummed in response. "that was it... that was what she was for me. my fucking world ever since we met each other when we were only six."

he paused, sighing deeply, wiping some tears off his face. you waltzed towards him slowly, resuming your previous position beside him.

"we were about to move in together. we were gonna attend the same university, so why not? she was so excited, she was thinking of having a cat as our child..." mark smiled lovingly and you couldn't help but do the same. "but then... a fucking bastard, who i thought was my best friend, took her from me. i wasn't... fast enough to catch her while she was falling... i..." he sobbed and you touched his back, trying to comfort him in some way. "it happened seven months ago and i still can't move on. i overwork myself as spiderman, forgetting about my normal life..." he chuckled. "in hopes that i can stop thinking about it for a second, but it's kinda impossible." and for the first time he looked in your eyes.

you could see the pain right in his soul, it's like you could read him like an open book, but there was a hint of pure love. he locked his eyes to yours and frowned, letting more tears fall.

"and it doesn't help the bare fucking minimum that you look exactly like her. from your eyes to your feet, you are her. so why here? why, out of the other many universes out there, it had to be mine?" the pain in his tone made you feel guilty.

you were taken aback by his words. speechless. you averted your gaze from his, but he was still looking at you.

"but you know... i'm kinda relieved now... i can finally feel you here after all. i know you're not her. you're not... mine... but please, let me hug you... that's the only thing i'm asking for now... please..." he mumbled, desperately. she was the one thing that kept him close to you again. he needed it for his life.

without thinking too much you pleaded. the sigh of pure relief he let out made you cry a bit. you could tell he needed it like it was oxygen. like this would make him live again.

mark touched every part of your body, trying to feel everything of you like it was the last time he could do it. your hair, your shoulders, your waist. he buried his face in the crook of your neck so he could smell your scent once again like it was some kind of aphrodisiac.

but then he pulled away from you, cupping your face in his hands, staring directly into your soul before moving his gaze to your lips, licking his own.

his mind was telling "that's not her", but how could he get it when she looks exactly like you? right in front of him once again. it's like... you've never been gone. he had you one more time, he couldn't let you go again...

"mark..." you whispered and he closed his eyes. having you calling his name again had his head spinning. you can't do it to me... please don't... "i'm not her... i don't wanna hurt you or... having you thinking i can replace her..." no one can ever replace her. "but..."

"would you... let me kiss you?" he wasn't thinking straight. she couldn't do it to him. to your memory, but... how could she deny it when he was asking so eagerly? so... passionate. so... needed.

"would it make you feel any better?" you ask, somehow feeling guilty.

"much better..." he mumbled, getting closer.

when your lips touched, you could feel mark melting right away. his body was eager and you could tell it was the best moment ever since... his loss. one of his hands remained on your cheek, caressing lovingly, while the other flew to your waist.

it was wrong. he couldn't be doing it. she wasn't you. but how could he do the right thing? was there even wrong or right? his mind kept on telling him one thing, but his heart was so happy to have you back. it wouldn't hurt any more to have a little piece of you again. even if you could never return to his life...

[peaceandjusticecat]

Dick: Hey Bruce, I just found this great new gadget for fighting crime!

Bruce: Dick, we have the most advanced technology Wayne Enterprises can offer. What could possibly be better?

Dick: A giant inflatable Bat-signal! We could float it over Gotham and scare criminals silly!

Jason: We could just play the Bat-signal on repeat over loudspeakers. Instant villain deterrent.

Tim: Guys, guys, imagine if we had Batmobiles that transformed into giant robotic bats! Crime-fighting would never be the same!

Babs: Or how about Bat-themed drones that drop net traps on fleeing criminals? Catching bad guys with a bit of flair!

Damian: These ideas are impractical and childish. We should focus on enhancing our combat skills and strategic maneuvers.

Alfred: Master Damian does have a point. Efficiency and subtlety are key in our line of work.

Bruce: Thank you, Alfred. Now, can we get back to discussing actual crime-fighting strategies?

Dick: Sure, Bats. But let's keep that giant inflatable Bat-signal idea on the back burner, just in case!

Bruce: *facepalms silently*

[olailamajnoon]

Steve, Part 2

Previous fic

Steve walked into the bathroom of the warehouse where Batman had stashed him. Stupid flightless birds, he muttered, thinking of Oswald Cobblepot and his giant drum belly. Thanks to you, I don't have place to hang my underwear. The lack of fucking clotheshooks inside the cold-ass bathroom annoyed him. Who wants to put their underwear on the floor while showering? And there was no bathtub. Fucking Penguin, and fucking Regina.

Regina, with her drop-down-dead beautiful eyes, and her soft gurgly voice. Her lips, the way they kissed him, like he was wanted and loved.

She had wanted a squirrel fur coat, and had made it the price of admission, and Steve, like a total chump, had taken the bait.

"Takeout!" someone called from the door. Steve stepped out of the shower hurriedly and put on his robe and tighty-whities. "Coming!" he called, hoping the voice belonged to the blue one, and not the red one who liked to poke fun at his—everything, really.

He breathed in. Why the fuck was he nervous? These guys had never hurt him. These guys were constitutionally incapable of hurting him. They treated him like a vulnerable bunny. Even the big strong one with the guns.

He walked into the warehouse's main room. (He was calling it the main room because he didn't know what else to call it. It was large and white and square, and main.) The lighting was dim and harsh at the same time, and the concrete walls and floor were hard and smelled old.

There were like nine bats. There were definitely nine. Steve could count. He realized what he must look like, in his tattered bathrobe.

"Nice robe, Steve," said Red Hood. Steve stuck his tongue out.

Batman turned around, and stared at Steve. He didn't feel as self-conscious as he probably should have.

"Do you need fresh clothes," said Batman. He had some kind of gadget in his hands.

So Batman had definitely noticed.

Steve tried to smile and act jolly, but the truth was the presence of nine bats had unnerved him. He knew one thing about the Batfamily—they usually operated in twos or threes. Unless...there was a Gotham-wide operation, which could only mean one thing. A disaster. A cataclysm of epic proportions.

"What's going on? Can I help?" he asked, his smile too wide, his face way too happy.

"No," said Red Hood and Red Robin together, and then frowned at each other.

"Help how?" asked Nightwing. "You've already given us all the information on Penguin you could. Thanks to you, we took down his waterfront businesses. All of them."

Steve glowed at this praise. Then he collected his face, and composure. "I could go places you people can't. Perp habitats. Henchmen bars. Hellholes. I can be of use to you."

"Why," said Batman.

"Why?" Steve was confused. Also the heater was off, and he was standing in the middle of a cold warehouse trembling, but he didn't want Batman to see and think he was afraid or some shit. He wondered how soon he could get into his clothes. The bats seemed to be wearing insulated suits, the bastards.

"Why do you want to be of use," Batman said, as if repeating himself.

"I dunno," said Steve, shrugging. He breathed out. "Maybe cause you gave me another chance."

Batman looked at him steadily, not saying anything. Just looking with his arms crossed.

"Everyone deserves another chance," said Orphan gently.

"Yeah, well. It's whatever, you know," said Steve, embarrassed there were suddenly tears in his eyes. He didn't want to cry big man-tears in front of Batman.

"Fine," said Batman. "You might be of use."

"Really?"

"Yes. If you prove reliable, there may be a place for you. Keep out of the line of sight, and wear a mask."

Wait.

Holy fuck.

A mask?

"Yessir," said Steve. "Yes, yes sir."

"You will also—" Batman seemed to bore into Steve's eyes, "—not ask any questions that are not relevant to you, or try to ascertain our identities in any way."

"Uh—okay."

"Trust is built, Steve. My trust is limitless, once I extend it to someone, but it takes time to create."

Steve sighed happily. Batman was trying to trust him. He tried to remember the last time anyone had tried to trust him, really trust him. "I won't let you down, sir," he said.

"I hope you won't," said Batman, rather softly.

Steve turned around to go to his room to get dressed, but then he turned around. "Just one thing."

Batman cocked his head.

"I totally get it. The secret identities and all. But—" he swallowed. "I have no one to tell. I'm isolated from my family and friends, I can't ever return to them. I'm completely cut-off. So. You know. Even if I ever knew. Your secrets are safe with me."

"We'll see," said Batman shortly. "For now, you will operate under me. I'll see what can be done, about...other things."

He thinks I'm lonely, Steve realized. He thinks I'm complaining. But he doesn’t know that for the first time in my life, I don’t have to watch my back. I don’t have to keep up appearances. I’m totally fucking alone...

...and somehow, I’m fucking okay.

[thesorcerersapprenticeu]

Chapter 5: Tip Toe

After the events of the mission, the conversation between Vander and Vi and Mylo's testimony against you, you still have to continue. Strangely enough, Vander calls you for a private conversation.

---

"Lever"

"Le-ver!"

"Exactly!"

You were back in the Basement of The Last Drop. You and Powder were sitting on her bed, leaning against the wall. In the background, music was playing through an old record player, which also had something like a trumpet on it. It was quiet, relaxed and almost made you forget what you had both been listening to a few minutes ago.

 "What the hell were you thinking?"

"They are a Problem."

 "They made a mistake" - "Name one time they haven't"

 "You were twice the person at half their age."

The sentences echo in your head, one popping up again and again, making you feel the emptiness in your stomach. Powder was with you, you ran away from the Thug together, but you threw the bag into the sea.

And now, you're giving Powder something like a lesson again. You've been doing that since you were all taken in by Vander. For your young age, you could already read and write, a privilege no one from Zaun had. Most people can't do math either, whether it's money or goods. Since Vi already knew the letters, but Powder couldn't do either of those things, you taught them.

Even if you preferred to stare into Powder's sapphire blue eyes and get lost in them during this lesson, it went really well. Powder learned incredibly quickly, after just two days she was able to memorize all the letters, much faster than Vi, who only repeated everything in a hurry.

And so here you are again, but not really in class mentally. You can't stop thinking about the big notebook from the Academy apartment, the Holy Wizard Corpse. Since you learned from one of the pages almost an hour ago that there are corpse parts in Zaun and Piltover, you can't clear your head. You kept thinking about which of the Nine Parts are hiding here, in this hole, in Zaun... And what they can do. Does it have something to do with magic or some natural force of the world?

But all the while thinking about it, the whole job pops into your head about how you and Powder screwed up and all the loot is gone.

"And this Lever is an object." You say, not with as much conviction as usual, but enough to make it sound like educational words. You look to your right, to Powder, and expect a definition for object.

"An object..." Powder replies, actually quite quickly. She looks to your left for a moment, makes a thinking face and turns right again. She stretches her arm forward, grabs a piece from a metal mesh-like box and tinkers with her gadget. "Soooo...A Thing?"

Should I talk to her about Vi's statement? No, I can't do that. They're sisters, hearing something like that from your own must be much worse than from someone like Mylo.

"Yeah...A Thing." You say after a few seconds. Your mouth utters the words while your other senses automatically focus their attention on her. Her hair, her soft pale skin and everything about her was perfect. She didn't see herself that way, neither do you, after all you're both the weaklings of the group. But who cares if you have each other?

"A lever is a simple tool that helps you to move or lift heavy things more eas-

You stop talking and see Vi out of the corner of your eye. Her red hair immediately stands out in the dim light. She walks towards you, a light smile tracing her lips as she sees you both sitting there.

"What are you calling this one?" Vi asks quietly as she stops in front of the bed and leans forward slightly.

Your eyes immediately fixate on her, a few things wander through your mind.

What is she doing here? And why is she asking about Whisker, as if she's really interested? She wants us both to train or something. Or is she here to tell us what an embarrassment we've made of ourselves today? After all, she agreed with Mylo about what he said to us.

"Whisker" This time Powder waits a few seconds before answering. It even sounds slightly broken, as if she hesitated to answer. She was probably thinking the same thing you were: that Vi wants to address what happened today and distract you for now.

Powder takes the little gadget in one hand and starts drawing on it with the other. She does this with each of her creations and you could watch her for hours. It's an art how her slender fingers spread the color on the metallic surfaces and it becomes an invention.

With that, Vi suddenly moves towards you, onto the bed. While you hold on to Powder, she sits down next to you on the left, a slight distance from Powder, after all it was clear what was coming next.

"Wanna talk about today?"

Neither you nor Powder look over at her. The mood is pretty shitty, after all, she's addressing the two who lost the Haul. You think, the simple "no" answer definitely won't satisfy Vi. She's a pretty direct and determined person, so if she wants to appeal to your feelings, she can.

So you answer, dazed and in a depressive mood, but you answer.

"Why? I Ruined Everything." It sounds like rubbish coming out of your mouth. How many times have you apologized to the others just because you didn't get something right? "I'm sorry I'm so weak." Or "I didn't know, I'm sorry." If you think about it, you've already lost count of how many times you've apologized for something like that. Definitely too many times.

"Oh, I almost forgot..." Vi starts, not even a second after you've spoken. You turn your head towards her, a few strands of hair obscuring a completely clear view of her head, but her light blue eyes stare right through you. "Vander wanted to talk to you."

What, Vander wants to talk to me? Does he know what you and Mylo said about us and wants something like an apology from you to us? But does he want to talk to me alone or with Powder-

"In private."

That's all Vi had to say. You immediately push yourself over the sheet, even though you would have actually been further into the conversation, it's probably better if the two sisters talk about it among themselves. Powder can probably answer much better than you, after all, she's rather articulate with words.

The last thing you see before you leave the room is Vi moving into your now vacated seat and starting to talk to Powder.

There you are, sitting opposite Vander's tall, strong and serious stature. You just walked up the stairs again, and there he was. He stayed here, where he'd been talking to Vi privately an hour ago. But she was definitely not sitting right in front of me, but in the single chair where she always sat.

"Why do you think I want to talk to you?" Vander's voice rings out across the room. It's deep, bold and the complete opposite of yours. You shift a little in your seat because of your trembling knees, your pounding heart and your head that just can't stop thinking.

Why? It's obvious, because of what happened today. Is he perhaps angry because I lost the haul? Or does he like it because there's no more evidence against us, after all, the things should be at the bottom of the sea now.

"About...today." It sounds more like a question than an answer. Your shaky voice only makes it as far as his ears, you can't hear it yourself. But you see him slowly and quietly sighed, his eyes drift to the ceiling and he adopts a more relaxed posture on the couch opposite you.

"You do understand, right?" He takes his time before answering you, a calm voice and a confident response.

What?

"Vi's leader sense isn't wrong, but she really needs to watch what you're pulling." He finally replies. He gets out of the relaxed position and stretches his arms out in front of him, pressing his hands together. You can see the muscles in his arms, the individual veins flowing through them and the strong skin tone. "You should understand that... After all, you have a good brain."

You immediately understand what he means: you shouldn't just stand by. But you like the way he says it, he doesn't say like the others that you need to train or eat more; he emphasizes your strengths. You are the smartest one in the group, even if you don't show it and don't talk about it. Even if you have a good idea for something that would keep you out of trouble, you never say it.

Vander is the person you trust the most, followed directly by Powder. After all, Vander took you from the bridge soaked in red smoke, not only that, he showed you the other world, and at the same time showed you what it really means to live for something. He always listens to you when you tell him something, whether it's a story or something that bothers you.

"I see what you mean..." You finally answer, your thoughts running like some kind of cogwheel.  You sit down a little better, lean back and put your hands on your knees.

You don't say anything for a few seconds, and neither does he. You take deep breaths from your nose, feel the oxygen literally bring your body to life and get ready to compose your thoughts so that you won't regret it in the future.

Because you are a person who is always thinking about the mistakes from your past.

"In terms of the course of war.... It comes down to one move. One move we make wrong can end really badly for the underworld...My people." He sits up straight, a strong straight stature and his eyes fixed on you. He continues to squeeze his hands together and now interlocks some of his fingers. "What you did today was really dangerous. I've already talked to Vi about it...But you know how she is."

One Wrong Move and the Underworld is torn apart by the Enforcers. But why is he talking about it like he has so much power to manage that one move?

Vander just keeps looking at you, raising an eyebrow as you continue to stare at the floor. You shift slightly from left to right on the comfy couch. Your head is literally seething with questions and theories about Vander's statements.

Yes, he could have a deal with the Enforcers. That would make sense, as long as Vander can make sure that no one from Zaun gets into their business or causes any problems. On the other hand, enforcers don't come down here every day and savagely slaughter the people in their way.

"I understood, Vander."

"So I understand you've already disposed of the Haul?" Vander says, fixing his eyes on your hands and seeming to recognize something. He probably seems to be looking at the light slashes you have from climbing, your skin is more sensitive than others.

"Yes." That's all you say, you just can't get it together. Your mind won't let you process anything more than you just did, apparently you're the only person who's come to the conclusion: Vander has a deal with the Enforcers. The Enforcers, who see the people of the underworld as scum.

"You're a smart boy Y/N, don't let anyone tell you otherwise." He finally says as he slowly rises from the couch across from you. His eyes follow his broad back, and somehow you can't think of anything else but:

I had only just seen his back at the time. The same back that challenged them all on the bridge with the Red smoke. So he made this deal afterwards? How many had he killed on the bridge, in the battle?

But just before he walks out, right at that moment, he stops. At the door of the room, after everything that has happened, it looks for a moment as if he is dead. Slain by the deeds and sins of all the inhabitants of Zaun. You shift slightly in your seat, your eyes fixed on his back, your mind blank, preparing for his words.

"You have potential, Y/N. Just don't waste it." He doesn't turn to you, still facing the door with his massive stature, with you still sitting on the couch anyway. "I don't care if you have too fragile a body, it's the brain that counts. The one who can use small power perfectly will win every battle."

Every battle. But for what? Is he trying to tell me something at the same time? Is something bad going to happen soon?

"By the way, you have to go into hiding, you can go into the little hiding place with the box machine. But you have to remember one thing...

No One Wins in War. " With that he's gone, a slam of the door and your view changes to a normal room without a human soul.

You forget the incident with your assignment. You think about everything that has happened in this short time. No thought escapes you, everything flows through your big memory and is spit out like a computer. It has all happened far too quickly, not only is time moving too fast, everything has happened at once, and you have the strange feeling that Vander's words will stay in your head for a long time to come.

The Corpse Parts. Magic that you could literally feel in the Academy apartment. The Spinning Weapon of the Enforcers. A secret power in this world. But everything was... connected.

But even when everything takes over your brain, you still think about Vander's statement.

No One Wins in War. War brings pain to everyone, no matter what side you are on. In the end, it doesn't matter if you win, because you still lost a lot to get there. But it's Told by Vander who has only been on the losing side of a war, plus he apparently has a deal with the Enforcers, it doesn't make any sense. No... this phrase refers to human lives, not political power. He's a pacifist, at least I think so.

Also, he doesn't necessarily have to have a deal with them, maybe I'm just thinking too much. But it would still be possible, Vander is definitely the best known from the underworld, it would make sense of all people to make a deal with him.

But after a few minutes of sitting over his statement and thinking about it until you can't do it anymore, you've figured it out.

Nobody wins, but one side loses a lot less.

You get up, rumble to your feet and look around. No one is there, the others are most likely already in the hideout, you should go there too. Before you leave, you take the book with the notes about the Corpse Parts and the Enforcer's gadget. You put on the long black coat you were already wearing when you came here, it was too big for you, but you can easily store both items in the side pocket.

Now make your way to the hiding place with the others.

---

[beecauseevan]

Thank you @oldfashionedmorphine for the cute prompt <3 <3 <3

~~~

Eddie stares at the thing he just pulled out of the cardboard box in front of him, concisely labeled "Kitchen". That makes him think it must be food-related (then again, Buck kept a ring cutter in his cutlery drawer, so who knows), but try as he might, he can't work it out. It's a bright green plastic knife, but the handle is weird—it's a grid instead of a solid surface, too wide and too flat to be comfortable to hold.

"What is this?" 

He holds it up. Buck, who's sitting across from him, glances up, shrugs, and looks back down at Christopher's textbook.

"It's an avocado cutter."

"Why do you need an avocado cutter?" Eddie asks.

Buck looks up again. "Why do you think, Eddie? Not to cut apples, that's for sure."

Eddie reaches into the box again and takes out a (much more recognizable) plastic gadget—a red plastic frame and eight blades, arranged in the middle like spokes on a wheel. "And what's this?"

"That's an apple cutter." 

Wordlessly, Eddie drops that back in the box and pulls out something long and yellow—

"Banana cutter."

—followed by something that looks exactly the same, except orange.

"Hot dog cutter," Buck says, with a smile.

"Uh huh." Eddie pulls out something purple.

"That's an onion," Buck cuts himself off, "dicer."

"An onion cutter," Eddie repeats.

"No, an onion dicer," Buck insists. "It said so on the package."

Eddie looks at the thing in his hands. It looks exactly like the apple cutter, but the blades are arranged in a grid, forming little squares instead of wedges. "What's the difference?"

Chris, sat between them and brooding over his English homework, stops chewing on his pencil just long enough to say, "It's obvious, dad. Cutters cut, dicers dice."

"It's obvious, Eddie," Buck echoes, smirking.

Eddie drops the onion cutter on the no pile, ignoring Buck's pout. 

"I don't think you should be throwing out all of my shi—" Buck cuts himself off with a glance in Chris' direction. "All of my stuff. That's not the point of moving in together. Your stuff is supposed to mingle, Eddie."

"You can say shit, you know," Chris tells them boredly. "I'm not a baby."

"Our stuff is mingling," Eddie replies, pointing his finger at Chris, a silent admonishment Chris completely ignores. "But not this stuff. I already have a banana cutter. And an onion dicer. And all the other stuff in between."

Buck looks at him skeptically. "You do?"

Eddie nods and gets up. He walks to his cutlery drawer and pulls out a single kitchen knife. "See? It cuts, it dices, and it's universal."

"It's not shaped like a banana though."

Chris chuckles and quickly dips his head when Eddie looks at him, as if he's been focused on his homework the whole time. Eddie shakes his head.

"That sounds like a good thing, if you ask me."

"I guess I won't ask you, then," Buck replies.

Eddie sits back down. He would give in (he would fill every single drawer in this house with useless gadgets if it made Buck happy) but Buck's frown is clearly not genuine—the spark in his eyes is far too obvious.

"So what you're saying is," Buck continues, "as long as it's not a cutter, it's fine."

Eddie hesitates. "Why does that feel like a dangerous thing to say yes to?"

"Live on the edge, Eddie," Buck tells him sagely, and Eddie has never been one to back down from a challenge.

"Okay."

Buck pulls the box closer to him and starts rummaging through it. He produces some things Eddie doesn't mind saying yes to—spacer rings for his rolling pin, a collapsible silicone bowl for microwave popcorn, a pizza cutter shaped like a bicycle and cupcake tins shaped like firetrucks, which are just ridiculous enough that Eddie wants to see them in action.

"See," he says, "we're mingling."

"We are," Buck confirms, and there's something in his smirk that might be bad news. Eddie has seen that smirk before. It usually precedes a rope rescue or something equally dangerous. "So if you don't have something yet, I get to keep it, yeah?"

Eddie frowns. "That was the deal."

"Okay." Buck reaches into the box between them one last time and pulls out the weirdest thing Eddie has seen all day. It's chocolate-colored and square, with a round cylinder at the back. Two arms protrude from it, made from flexible white plastic. He shakes it lightly and those arms rattle, slapping against the flat base. 

Eddie stares at it. "What on earth does that do?"

"It's a s'more maker," Buck says, tugging at one of the arms. "You put your crackers here, and your chocolate and your marshmallow, and then you put it in the microwave. And this little thing holds everything in place."

"We used it every time I stayed over at Buck's," Chris says fondly. "The s'mores taste really, really bad."

"Microwaved s'mores taste bad?" Eddie reaches out to tug at the other arm, then lets it fall back down. "Shocking."

Buck is smirking, and the thing is—Eddie knows fully well that this is a dare. He knows that Buck expects to be told to get rid of this thing, and that he would do it, gladly. And maybe that last part is why Eddie just shrugs instead.

"Okay."

"Okay?" Buck repeats, incredulously.

"Okay," Eddie confirms. "Bet we can clear some space for it."

Buck stares at him, stunned. "For real?"

Eddie reaches for Buck's hand, still holding the chocolate-colored monstrosity, and smooths his thumb across Buck's knuckles.

"It's your house too," he says simply. 

It's Buck's house too. Buck isn't renting a room from Eddie, isn't staying here as a guest. Buck is a part of this household now, of this family. If he wants to make s'mores in their microwave, he doesn't need Eddie's permission.

Buck's eyes speak volumes. Later, when they're alone, Buck will kiss Eddie for this, hard enough that Eddie forgets about everything else. For now, he just flips his hand so he can lace their fingers together, Buck's a little longer than Eddie's but calloused in all the same places. 

Chris catches one glimpse of them and rolls his eyes, burying his face in his homework, but he's smiling too.

"Okay," Buck says quietly. "Okay. But I am getting rid of it. Chris is right. The s'mores are really bad."

"Could take it to work," Eddie says after a moment, when his brain is no longer too flooded with love to work properly. "Show it to Bobby."

"He'll disown me."

"Yeah, maybe. But his face would be worth it."

Buck's smile grows into a smirk, bright and devastating. He mouths the next words, for Chris' sake, but Eddie has heard them so many times by now that his brain fills in the gaps, that he hears Buck's voice as he reads Buck's lips: I love you.

"I know you do," Eddie replies. It takes one pout, and then he breaks. He mouths back, trusting Buck to be able to read him just as easily: I love you more.

"You two are embarrassing," Chris tells them. "And we're keeping the s'mores maker. I like it."

Just like that, it's settled.

[bi-bard]

I've Had No Love Like Your Love - Gary "Eggsy" Unwin Imagine [Kingsman]

Title: I've Had No Love Like Your Love

Pairing: Gary "Eggsy" Unwin X Reader

Based On: Nobody

Word Count: 1,083 words

Warning(s): Insecurities

Summary: Eggsy's new job gives him opportunities and experiences that he could have never imagined. (Y/n) is worried that these experiences are going to pull him away from them. Eggsy tries his best to show that nothing he's done will ever be more important than them.

Author's Note: Pretty sure this happened because of the internet throwing edits about the second Kingsman film at me. Which I had a lot of fun watching, by the way.

WASTELAND, BABY! - HOZIER WRITING CHALLENGE MASTERLIST

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

I met Eggsy long before his life with the Kingsman started.

He had been this bubbly, sarcastic, and all-around-loving guy. It didn't take long for him to win me over. He was charming and sweet. I fell far faster than I cared to admit.

I was happier with him than I had been with anyone else. It was silly, almost delusional, but I was getting to the point where I felt like we were going to last forever.

And then, Eggsy found a new job.

He hid it from me at first, but after seeing how suspicious that looked, he dropped the act.

I could still remember vividly sitting across from him at my dining room table as he rambled on and on about what he was doing. The training and the gadgets and the assholes he had met through it all. He told me about how his being gone for days was because he was going on missions for a secret organization that I wasn't meant to know about.

I didn't believe him at first.

That's when he showed me some of the gadgets he had. He showed me some of the suits that they had given him. I got to know the Kingsman label.

I asked him if he was going to get in trouble for telling me all of this.

He kissed me and told me that he didn't care if he did. He'd rather that than lose me. Which did make me feel very special.

I accepted every part of it.

The long trips away, the small injuries that he came home with, the lack of a steady schedule. And the dog. The dog was a nice bonus to the job.

I never wanted to question his work. And I didn't.

I never had a lot of problems with the work. I got worried when he showed up hurt, but that was kind of it.

After a while though, the stories started to get to me. I wasn't upset hearing them or jealous or anything like that, but the more and more I heard about those stories, the more I found this sickening feeling in my stomach. Like I was... disappointing him... somehow.

I heard all these stories about these amazing places and the cool stuff that he did, and I just felt... boring. How was I supposed to compare to stuff like that?

I always ignored it. Well, I tried.

In all honesty, I never thought that Eggsy noticed it.

We all think that we're better at hiding things than we actually are.

I was in the middle of putting my clothes away, listening to him go on and on about the last mission he was on. I nodded along, chuckling where it felt appropriate.

"You alright?"

I furrowed my eyebrows as I turned to him. "What are you talking about?"

"You just seem... out of it."

"What," I forced a scoff. "Eggsy, I'm fine."

"(Y/n), we've been together for a while, I can tell when you're not."

I took a deep breath as I leaned against the dresser. "I... Do I bore you?"

"Sorry?"

"Do I bore you?" I repeated. "Am I boring?"

"No, why would you ask that?"

"You just... You come home from these trips and you have all these stories about what you did and what you saw and who you met and it just... I feel boring compared to that part of your life."

He didn't respond for a moment.

"And I know that it sounds dumb and childish but I... I can't help it, Eggsy. I... I'll get over it. I don't want you to think that I don't care about your work because I do and I admire it. I don't... I don't want to be controlling or anything like that and I'm sorry-"

"Stop," he spoke up, cutting off my rambling. I did, biting at the inside of my cheek.

He walked over to stand opposite me, his back facing the bed. He pulled the sleeve of his jacket up. "See this?"

He pointed at a bracelet on his wrist. It had been a gift I had gotten him. It was small, simple. A braided bracelet with a small charm hanging off of it. It wasn't a super expensive gift, but I didn't have a lot to spend at the time. I was surprised that it had landed as long as it had.

I nodded as I looked at it.

"I wear this during every mission that I go on," he explained as he walked forward. "Do you know why?"

I didn't answer.

"Because all I care about on those missions is getting back to you," he continued. "Through every badass thing I get to do, through all of the suits and gadgets and crap, all I want is to come home to you. Because I love you. A lot. More than I've loved anyone before."

I felt a grin form on my lips. "I love you too."

He reached forward and cupped the sides of my face, smiling back at me. He leaned his forehead against mine for a few moments before kissing me gently. I kissed him back, reaching my hands out to touch his sides. It was loving, gentle, perfect.

During our small moment together, I felt something tickling my leg. I pulled away, looking down to see what it was. Eggsy's forehead pressed against the side of my head as I did. His eyes were still shut.

"What is it," he asked.

I turned to look at him again. "Your dog is licking my leg."

"What?" his eyes opened as he leaned back and looked down. "For fuck's sake-"

"It's alright," I chuckled.

"Ruined our moment."

"Nooo," I shook my head before leaning down to pick up the pug. "Were you getting a little jealous?"

The pug licked my hand as I went to pet him. I laughed quietly.

"Just wants a little attention," I said, looking at Eggsy again.

"So do I," he replied.

"The pug's cuter."

He scoffed at me. "Excuse me?"

I walked into the main room, sitting with the dog in my lap. Eggsy followed me out. He sat next to me on the couch, pulling me into his side. He kissed my head.

"I love you," he muttered against my hair.

"I love you too," I replied.

That was the moment that I started to truly believe that this life was far more perfect than whatever life with the Kingsman offered.

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

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[ravioliet]

alright so i don't have any drawings to post for this yet, but as promised here's my explanation for that Odd Squad Glitch Techs au i mentioned the other day!!!

lots of yapping under the cut, i am very bad at summarizing things but. i tried

ok so basically. i realized that both shows involve kids solving weird problems and anomalies and whatnot and i thought it would be fun to turn the odd squad kids into techs! and it's really silly how well a lot of this stuff translates over lol. it's just odd problems but video game themed

so basically to start off the season one gang is pretty much the same but the roles have shifted around slightly, i have a whole rewrite plotted out for GT episode one where Otto is basically both Five and Miko (mostly Five though tbh) and there's the whole contest and everything. Mitch is Oren but like if he was worse at his job. i guess. less of a hard worker at least. Olive is also there despite already being a tech but y'know. but basically she and Otto pull the thing where they sorta team up or at least help each other out a bit because neither of them like Oren but like in the actual episode the game glitches and Olive gets pulled out of the game to fight the glitch, and while everyone is distracted Oren just resets Otto because he's a sore loser and doesn't want to admit he was losing to someone who's not even a tech. a little bit of time goes by and at some point Olive runs into Otto again while catching a glitch and he helps her defeat it, and afterwards she's like "oh hey you're that kid from the competition!" and Otto, who doesn't remember any of that, is like "lol what competition? :)" and Olive is suspicious now so she pretty much just drags him back to hq with her and then things happen and he gets the job and stuff hooray!

also some other notes

Oscar is like the support guy! he probably knows how to hack some stuff but mainly he just invents things and fixes people's gauntlets and such. hinobi tech support's tech support. if you will

glitch modder Todd!!!!!! he's literally a glitch modder you gotta believe me. same as in canon he got too bored with his job and started causing problems on purpose but specifically, he started modding glitches to raise their difficulty level to make them more entertaining, which then turned into just modding them in general and then into causing glitches on purpose. the pienado was a modded glitch of his, he took the original glitch which came from some sort of like. candy crush type mobile game i imagine. and made it more powerful than it should have been. so yeah Olive is also scared of pies here

Todd is also immune to resets Miko style because it makes him a bigger threat

the pirate-itis episode was a possessor glitch that was slowly taking over Olive. because i think that would be neat idk

the season two kids are here too!!! Olympia is still a big fan of the glitch techs and also Olive, despite the fact that she's. not really supposed to know they exist. she saw Olive take down a glitch one time and somehow avoided being reset afterwards. she's not interested in like exposing their existence or anything though she just really really wants to join and eventually she gets recruited and is absolutely overjoyed

as for Otis, he is still a former villain but in this case he's specifically a former hacker. Brother Quack is his actual human older brother who raised him and was also the leader of a hacking/modding group that was very against the Hinobi techs. at some point they start messing around with creating actual harmful glitches that could cause some serious harm and Otis decides that things have officially crossed the line and like in canon he runs to Ms. O for help. his brother doesn't remember the betrayal anymore but Otis avoids him anyway because guilt and also because he's afraid that he might remember at some point. tragic siblings moment

Drop Gadget Repeat still happens but it's not a literal time loop, it's a mapper glitch of some sort of puzzle game that Oona gets trapped in, and she can't get out until she beats the whole game but she's stuck on the last level so she calls in Olympia and Otis to help. it's one of those timed puzzles where the level gets reset when the timer runs out and they're all struggling. eventually they figure it out with teamwork though so yippee!

6:00 to 6:05 is something similar to that as well i think

Ocean is the pet guy kinda. because it's silly :)

anyways yea! silly secret agents show moments i love both of these shows so of course i had to put them in the blender together lol. i'll design the characters eventually, i have some ideas in mind already :3

[biblomaniac]

Courage 10/02

Courage.

“Strength in the face of pain or grief.”

Kara built her courage. Welded it from the molten rubble of Krypton. Forged in the icy depths of the Phantom Zone. Fabricated it with the bare thread of humanity she hid behind.

Courage was difficult. Tiring. Worthless without hope to compel it. Kara’s hope had long run out. It fizzled out the moment Lena stepped through that portal leaving her encased in the poisonous remains of her home world.

After the melancholy of Lena’s betrayal came the anger. Over the passing months, the anger mellowed into disappointment and resentment. At Lena, her friends, her family, and herself most of all.

There was no reason to truly uphold the facade anymore. Lena was the last person close to her who didn’t know. Everyone else was just passing faces in the night, none so important as to truly hide herself from.

She moved through the days automatically. Wake up, dress, go to work at CatCo, be Supergirl, return home, sleep, and repeat. Game nights and trips to Al’s stopped. Sending silly texts with numerous emojis and gifs of cute animals trickled to nothing.

“Kara, you need to move on. I get that you’re disappointed about Lena, I do. But she showed her true colors. She’s a Luther through and through-“

“Get out,” the blonde said. Her voice was flat, emotionless.

Shocked at the swift dismissal, Alex paused her rant, “What?”

Kara’s tone left no room for argument, “I’m sick of everyone placating me with false truths. Yes, she hurt me, but she’s not evil. She’s hurting, and I’m that one that caused it. So don’t sit here and lecture me about my feelings as if you understand anything about this.”

“You know what? Fine. Don’t come crying to me the next time she breaks your heart.” With that parting remark, Alex turns on her heel, exiting the apartment.

She’ll never understand. I was too much of a coward, and I hurt the person I love the most. So much for the Paragon of Hope.

———————————

Another day, another failed attempt to pick up the shattered pieces of her life.

Non Nocere was a failure. She was a fool to believe she could neutralize humanity’s inclination to anger, hurt, and violence. Lex, as always, was a madman intent to make the world suppliant to him or watch it burn.

Lena had had enough. There was no point running from the truth. She had been rash; too quick to anger and too slow to forgiveness.

At first, it was the spitting anger. Lena thought there was no way in hell she could ever forgive Supergirl for lying to her. After months of isolation and intense introspection, the embarrassment of her actions kept her from reaching out to Kara.

Taking another sip from tumbler in her hand, Lena resumed her work with the soldering iron. All she had now was whisky and her tech. It wasn’t much, but she could survive with it if she had to.

One of the biggest downsides to Earth Prime was having to reinvent copious amounts of projects she had completed on Earth-38. The scientist found herself lost in the long process of reengineering the gadgets.

Unfortunately, it seems she may have slipped a bit too far into her mind. It takes a moment too long for her brain to register the burning pain ripping across her hand as the conical tip slices through the flesh of her palm.

“FUCK,” Lena exclaims, dropping the tool onto the table.

She stumbles out of her chair gripping her wrist in shock, staring wide eyed at the blood welling rapidly from her hand. The pain and alcohol release a shockwave of pint up frustration and fear. Tears begin to flow her eyes from what feels like an endless chasm of misery.

Her knees buckle, sending her down to the cold tile of her private home office. She makes no attempt to stem the bleeding, no attempt to rise from the ground. She just sits there, watching as the pain and turmoil of the last year becomes physical manifest.

———————————————

Supergirl is completing her final round of patrol for the day when she hears it.

“FUCK!”

Kara halts her flight, tuning her hearing completely to Lena. She hears a crash, a thump, and the beginning of broken sobs. In the next second, she’s immediately soaring through the sky towards the penthouse.

At the balcony, she pauses momentarily. It’s been months since she was last here. Lena has made it more than clear that Kara isn’t welcome, but the need to make sure the brunette is okay dwarfs the concerns for the long-term consequences of her actions. Kara grabs the handle, popping the door from its lock and sliding it open.

Lena is going to be so pissed at me. I’ll have to come back to fix this later.

The brunettes sobs are even louder now. It makes her Kryptonian heart race at the thought that something terrible has happened. Moving through the austere home, she audibly locates Lena in her lab. Once again, the closed door is gently forced open.

The first thing her eyes focus on is the red painting the white table, then her eyes move to the crumpled form just feet away. The hero speeds over, crouching low to examine her ex-friend.

“Lena?! What wrong?” She asks quickly, hands hovering above the shaking form.

Watery emerald eyes, focusing on Kara’s form as the emotional woman chokes on a sob.

“K-Kara? What are you doing here?” She asked confusedly, shielding one had close to her midsection.

“I heard you cuss, and a crash. I thought something terrible had happened. Where is that blood coming from?” She questions, worried Lena is hiding a wound in her abdomen.

Wiping her tears with a shaky hand, Lena protests the attention, “What do you care? Just me alone.”

Kara’s not taken aback. It’s been nearly a year of this bitter back and forth between them. But this time, she’s not going to run at the first round of dismissal.

“No. You’re hurt. I can’t leave until I know you’re okay.”

A wet laugh escapes Lena’s throat. “That’s rich coming from you. You’ve left even other time, why’s this one different?”

“What’s that supposed to mean? Every time I tried to reconcile you’ve shut me down and turned me away—“

The alcohol and blood loss must have been getting to her, because under no other circumstance could Lena imagine having the courage to be truthful after all this time.

“Because you hurt me! I let you have the power to hurt me. You never felt bad about it, just moved on with life as usual until I betrayed you. And once the anger turned to doubt I was too cowardly to apologize…”

She’s sorry? Oh Rao, she doesn’t hate me! I can fix this, fix us. I can make us right again!

“It’s okay…I shouldn’t have lied, and I should never have just moved on as if nothing had happened. It’s my biggest regret, Lena. Let me help you, and then we can…we can fix us,” the blonde clasps her hands her counterparts gently pulling her arms away from her stomach.

Lena hisses through her teeth trying to shield her hand from any further pain. Now that Kara can clearly see the wound, she internally lets out a sigh of relief that it’s just her hand, and not anything internal. Sucking on a breath, she blows a stream of cool air onto the cut, covering the hand in a thin layer of frost.

“That should help for a moment. I’ll get some bandages okay?”

She doesn’t wait for a respond before using her X-Ray vision to locate the first aid kit in the closet by the wall. Within minutes, Lena’s hand is cleaned, medicated and bandaged.

Lena watches silently. The fight has drained out of her and the overwhelming loss of Kara is soothed slightly as the hero tenderly cares for her.

“There, all better.” Kara announces quietly, giving Lena a shaky smile.

A single tear slips from a jade eye, “I’m so tired. So sick of feeling broken,” she croaks.

A tanned thumb wipes it away before softly rubbing a pale cheek. “So am I, but I never felt broken with you, Lena. Can we just, can we go back to what we had?”

Jade eyes hide behind pale lids. “I don’t want what we had.” She whispers.

“What, what do you want?” The blonde asks shakily.

Turning her head away, Lena confesses, “I’m scared.”

“Of me?” she asks, thinly veiled horror in her voice.

Shaking her head, “Of what I want.”

“What do you want, Lena?”

“I want you.”

Courage was difficult. Tiring. Worthless without hope to compel it. But now? Kara’s hope was sparked anew. It fizzled to life as Kara leaned forward pressing a lasting kiss to the apple of Lena’s cheek.

“I want you too, always.”

[yaksha-lover]

For the vampire au I crave fluff

Like mc, ask Idia, azul, and Leona to teach them how to play chess. ( I've actually been teaching myself imagining I'm playing against one of them >////< it's surprising elective)

“I have better things to do, herbivore. Get one of them to teach you,” Leona says, settling down for a nap on the ottoman.

You turn your gaze to Idia and Azul, already settled in to a match. It’s Idia’s turn, so Azul responds first.

“Are you prepared to offer something in return?” He smiles at you, pushing up his glasses.

“Azul-”

“Kidding, kidding. Come, sit beside me, dear.”

You narrow your eyes at the nickname, but pull up a chair to sit at the side of the table, between the two players. Idia flips the sand timer, alerting Azul that it’s his turn.

“This is what you don’t want to do, MC,” Idia whispers to you, while Azul glares back at him.

“Stop distracting me.”

“I’m trying to teach MC. How else will they learn?”

Azul silently continues, ignoring Idia. He manages to capture one of Idia’s knights, before resetting the timer.

“Not so confident now, are you?” Azul comments, tone still light despite his obvious mockery. “See, MC. You should really be watching me.”

“Just you wait, normie. I’ve already run the possible simulations in my head, and I knew you would do that!”

“Oi,” Leona calls from the ottoman. “Be quiet, herbivores, some people are trying to sleep over here.”

“It’s literally the middle of the afternoon,” you muse. “Also, why are you sleeping in the game room? You have a perfectly good bedroom, you know.”

“I don’t control where I rest, the nap does. Now quiet.”

Rolling your eyes, you refocus on the game in front of you. A couple turns have passed.

“How?!” Azul exclaims suddenly, looking down at the board where Idia has claimed his queen.

“I told you, I already knew you would do that,” Idia gloats.

“You knew- wait a minute, I see that earpiece! Idia! I told you, using Ortho to run simulations for the best move is cheating!”

“Uhhh- I don’t know what you’re talking about?” he says, not so subtly brushing his hair out to cover his ear.

Ortho suddenly bursts through the door, spotting his brother. “Idia, the earpiece will malfunction if it gets too close to your hair!”

Idia lets out a pathetic shriek when he realizes the gadget is smoking, running with it out of the room.

You turn back to Azul, still sitting at the table. “Will you still teach me, Azul?”

“Unfortunately, my lungs are quite sensitive and with the smoke left behind by the Shrouds, I believe I must take my leave.” When he notices you look a little bit disappointed, Azul tilts your chin gently to face him. “Worry not, I promise I’ll play with you tomorrow. I won’t even charge you,” he winks. “Goodbye for now, MC,” he drops a kiss on your hand before exiting the room.

You notice Leona still napping away in the corner, completely oblivious to the conflict. “Leonaaa, wake up. There’s smoke.”

He continues snoring. Taking the opportunity of a lifetime, you ignore the smoke and begin petting his ears. They’re so soft and smooth, it’s like-

Leona wakes up with a start, grabbing you and flipping you underneath him on the ottoman.

“MC?” he asks, too drowsy from sleep to remember he never calls you by your real name.

“You’re uh- you’re so close,” you half-whisper, taken aback my Leona suddenly pinning you underneath him. You can feel the warmth of his arms, so close.

He pulls away, looking around. “Where did the brats go? Whatever, who cares. Why the hell did you wake me up?”

“The air was getting bad, it’s a long story. Leona, you’re the last one here. Can you please teach me?”

He sighs, resigned to giving up on napping. “I should be teaching you some manners. Fine, sit down. You better listen up, you hear? I won’t be repeating myself, and I won’t go easy on you just because you’re a newbie.” The two of you sit across from each other at the table Idia and Azul vacated. “And know, if I keep winning against you, I’ll have to take some kind of reward from you. Maybe if you let me have some of that blood, I won’t be so tired all the time.”

“I- Leona-”

“Ugh, you’re so gullible. Staying stoic in chess is half the game. Looks like we have a lot of work to do.”

You can’t help but laugh at yourself, settling in to learn from Leona.

[eowyntheavenger]

By Emily Strasser | August 9, 2023

At the theater where I saw Oppenheimer on opening night, there was a handmade photo booth featuring a pink backdrop, “Barbenheimer” in black letters, and a “bomb” made of an exercise ball wrapped in hoses. I want to tell you that I flinched, but I laughed and snapped a photo. It took a beat before I became horrified—by myself and the prop. Today is the 78th anniversary of the bombing of Nagasaki, which killed up to 70,000 people and came only three days after the bombing of Hiroshima that killed as many as 140,000 people. Yet still we make jokes of these weapons of genocide.

Oppenheimer does not make a joke of nuclear weapons, but by erasing the specific victims of the bombings, it repeats a sanitized treatment of the bomb that enables a lighthearted attitude and limits the power of the film’s message. I know this sanitized version intimately, because my grandfather spent his career building nuclear weapons in Oak Ridge, Tennessee, the site of uranium enrichment for the Hiroshima bomb. My grandfather died before I was born, and though there were photographs of mushroom clouds from nuclear tests hanging on my grandmother’s walls, we never discussed Hiroshima, Nagasaki, or the fact that Oak Ridge, still an active nuclear weapons production site, is also a 35,000-acre Superfund site. At the Catholic church in town, a pious Mary stands atop an orb bearing the overlapping ovals symbolizing the atom, and until it closed a few years ago, a local restaurant displayed a sign with a mushroom cloud bursting out of a mug of beer.

Oppenheimer does not show a single image of Hiroshima or Nagasaki. Instead, it recreates the horror through Oppenheimer’s imagination, when, during a congratulatory speech to the scientists of Los Alamos after the bombing of Hiroshima, the sound of the hysterically cheering crowd goes silent, the room flashes bright, and tatters of skin peel from the face of a white woman in the audience. The scene is powerful and unsettling, and, arguably, avoids sensationalizing the atrocity by not depicting the victims outright. But it also plays into a problematic pattern of whitewashing both the history and threat of nuclear war by appropriating the trauma of the Japanese victims to incite fear about possible future violence upon white bodies. An example of this pattern is a 1948 cover of John Hersey’s Hiroshima, which featured a white couple fleeing a city beneath a glowing orange sky, even though the book itself brought the visceral human suffering to American readers through the eyes of six actual survivors of the bombing.

The Oppenheimer film also neglects the impacts of fallout from nuclear testing, including from the Trinity test depicted in the film; the harm to the health of blue-collar production workers exposed to toxic and radiological materials; and the contamination of Oak Ridge and other production sites. Instead, the impressive pyrotechnics of the Trinity test, images of missile trails descending through clouds toward a doomed planet, and Earth-consuming fireballs interspersed with digital renderings of a quantum universe of swirling stars and atoms, elevate the bomb to the realm of the sublime—terrible, yes, but also awesome.

A compartmentalized project. The origins of this treatment can be traced to the Manhattan Project, when scientists called the bomb by the euphemistic code word “gadget” and the security policy known as compartmentalization limited workers’ knowledge of the project to the minimum necessary to complete their tasks. This policy helped to dilute responsibility and quash moral debates and dissent. Throughout the film, we see Oppenheimer move from resisting compartmentalization to accepting it. When asked by another scientist about his stance on a petition against dropping the bomb on Japan, he responds that the builders of the bomb do not have “any more right or responsibility” than anyone else to determine how it will be used, despite the fact that the scientists were among the few who even knew of its existence.

Due to compartmentalization, the vast majority of the approximately half-million Manhattan Project workers, like my grandfather, could not have signed the petition because they did not know what they were building until Truman announced the bombing of Hiroshima. Afterward, press restrictions limited coverage of the humanitarian impacts, giving the false impression that the bombings had targeted major military and industrial sites—and eliding the vast civilian toll and the novel horrors of radiation. Photographs and films of the aftermath, shot by Japanese journalists and American military, were classified and suppressed in the United States and occupied Japan.

The limit of theory. Not only is it dishonest and harmful to erase the suffering of the real victims of the bomb, but doing so moves the bomb into the realm of the theoretical and abstract. One recurring theme of the film is the limit of theory. Oppenheimer was a brilliant theorist but a haphazard experimentalist. A close friend and fellow scientist questions whether he’ll be able to pull off this massive, high-stakes project of applied theory. Just before the detonation of the Trinity test bomb, General Leslie Groves, the military head of the project, asks Oppenheimer about a joking bet overheard among the scientists regarding the possibility that the explosion would ignite the atmosphere and destroy the world. Oppenheimer assures Groves that they have done the math and the possibility is “near zero.” “Near zero?” Groves asks, alarmed. “What do you want from theory alone?” responds Oppenheimer.

Can the theoretical motivate humanity to action?

One telling scene shows Oppenheimer at a lecture on the impacts of the bomb. We hear the speaker describe how dark stripes on victims’ clothing were burned onto their skin, but the camera remains on Oppenheimer’s face. He looks at the screen, gaunt and glassy-eyed, for a few moments, before turning away. Americans are still looking away. As a country, we’ve succumbed to “psychic numbing,” as Robert Jay Lifton and Greg Mitchell call it in their book Hiroshima in America, which leads to general apathy about nuclear weapons—and pink mushroom clouds and bomb props for selfies.

On this anniversary of Nagasaki, the world stands on a precipice, closer than ever to nuclear midnight. The nine nuclear-armed states collectively possess more than 12,500 warheads; the more than 9,500 nuclear weapons available for use in military stockpiles have the combined power of more than 135,000 Hiroshima-sized bombs.

If Oppenheimer motivates conversation, activism, and policy shifts in support of nuclear abolition, that’s a good thing. But by relegating the bomb to abstracted images removed from actual humanitarian consequences, the film leaves the weapon in the realm of the theoretical. And as Oppenheimer says in the film, “theory will only take you so far.” Today, it’s vital that we understand the devastating impacts that nuclear weapons have had and continue to have on real victims of their production, testing, and wartime use. Our survival may depend on it.

[toaarcan]

I think Fiona's betrayal makes way more sense and fits into the narrative better if you simply bump it to after the destruction of Knothole.

Like, in the actual comic it kinda comes out of nowhere, and it's heavily tied into the romance plot tumours and Issue 150. Fiona's actual character is barely important, she just disappears for five issues and comes back with a new personality, her old trauma in high gear again (but girl, if you're mad at Sonic for abandoning you, why the feck are you running off with Second Sonic Who Is Worse?), and an ideology that makes zero sense with her history ("You can't count on anybody" says character who has literally never been independent and will never become independent).

And the fallout is incredibly understated and after literally two issues nobody cares any more except Tails. And he's done caring after 179 closes.

Betrayal is supposed to be impactful.

But if you shuffle the order of the stories around, don't even change the actual content, then the whole thing becomes a buttery-smooth consistent arc and Fiona's character development, while not a good thing in the long run (Scourge literally would've killed her in 196 if his plan had succeeded, she traded the stunningly mediocre partner that was Sonic for a literal monster), actually makes sense and is front and centre in her story, instead of what we got, which is "Fiona ascends from background character to weird love interest to an accessory for Scourge who is defined entirely by Scourge."

Fiona being driven by her trauma to hate Sonic for leaving her behind is a reasonable angle, it's where she started in the Knuckles comic, but it's been so long since that was relevant to her character that dredging it up years after the fact in a different book would only ever be jarring. Unless, say, history repeated itself and all those wounds got opened up again.

Eggman drops out of the sky, razes her home to the ground, and shoves her in a prison to be used as fodder for one of his sick creations, just like Robotnik did all those years ago. Only this time, the prison is so small that she can barely even move, and the machine she's going to be fed into is much worse. It'll kill her, twice over, draining her life-force to power Eggman's machinery and wiping her mind for no reason other than "Eggman's a sadistic asshole."

She gets to see the effects up-close too, via Charmy's brain damage.

And while it's unnecessary, as I think the actual plot of the issues needs no alterations to make sense, you could nonetheless add a small scene during the rescue where Sonic saves Fiona from the Egg Grapes and says he won't make that mistake again. A small hope spot before it all comes crashing down.

Because it does! The arc ends with the Freedom Fighters standing triumphant over a wrecked Egg Beater. They could easily grab Eggman and drag him into the brand-new prison that Nicole put Mogul, Naugus, and the Hooligans in. They have turned their darkest hour into an opportunity to win the war... and they don't take it.

Eggman flies off, clinging to an Egg Flapper and doing the "I'll get you next time, Gadget! Next tiiiiiime!" bit, and the heroes just... stand there.

And that's where the (hypothetical) hope spot gets dashed. Fiona, already uncertain of her place in the team after 160-1, loses faith in them completely. She just lived through the worst experience of her life again and the heroes of this world are doing nothing to prevent another repeat.

It even makes her "You can't count on anybody" line actually have some weight. She genuinely feels like she's been failed by them, that she put her trust in these people and they still turned on her at a moment's notice, and they're not doing enough to actually save the world. It's like Scourge says in 172- she "wishes [Sonic] had a backbone."

And then, after all that, there's the big Fiona Betrayal Issue except now it's actually about Fiona and not just about giving Scourge a girlfriend, and that's followed immediately by the Sonic vs. Tails issues. There's no time to process what just happened, everyone's emotions are still extremely raw, and it boils over into a fight between brothers that's more about venting all those nasty emotions they've been holding in for a while now. Sonic has been through a lot lately, he just lost his home and repeated one of his few failures, and he's not long lost Tommy too. Tails is dealing with emotions that he's not mature enough to process properly and healthily, he grew up too fast, but not evenly. And at the end of the day, they're both still just kids.

I still think 179's ending is an overall horrible way to to resolve that plot thread, and further reduces Fiona to an object to be fought over, but I'm not heavily changing the content of the issues, only the context.

I've never been a fan of villain!Fiona, I've made that clear in the past. I like it as a step on a journey that results in her healing, but I found its start confusing and messy and the rest of the arc lacklustre and far too focused on Scourge, rather than Fiona herself. But I think putting it in this order makes it flow a lot better for me.

If I write Sonic stuff again, I'll probably do it with this as a headcanon of what went down in the 170s.