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forasecondtherewedwon · 3 years ago

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Dolls’ Eyes — A Jaws AU

Pairings: established Peggy/Steve, developing Brunnhilde/Carol Rating: T Chapters: 14/14

Summary: Tony Stark snapped his fingers and the vanished half of the universe returned, but Thanos escaped the battlefield, fleeing into space. Now that he’s virtually powerless, most of the Avengers consider chasing him all over the universe a waste of resources, but Peggy Carter—newly deposited in the 21st century—is determined to finish the job. Brunnhilde and Carol Danvers have the same idea.

When scattered rumours of fresh killings escalate to the death of one of their own, the three women team up to defeat Thanos once and for all.

read the prologue

read ch. 1 one / 2 two / 3 three / 4 four / 5 five 6 six / 7 seven / 8 eight / 9 nine / 10 ten 11 eleven / 12 twelve / 13 thirteen / 14 fourteen

After everything, Carol wasn’t surprised that Brunnhilde put up a fight over being told to just rest. Carol reminded her that she was lucky to be alive, to which Brunnhilde responded that it wasn’t anything like luck, and went on to list the incredible, lifesaving properties of her fine armour, explain the enhanced durability provided by her Asgardian biology, and enumerate all of the injuries she’d previously sustained that were apparently worse than being electrocuted half to death, and then nearly drowning while incapacitated. Carol didn’t believe half of it, but it was kinda hot when Brunnhilde bragged.

So, in spite of Carol’s efforts, Brunnhilde kept getting up the second her back was turned in order to haul bodies off of Thanos’s ship. As they started to fix everything Carol had broken (including a patch job of that hole in the roof), a scan of the local environment informed them that almost all of the life on this planet was aquatic. They left the stack of corpses on land. Whatever water critters were around, they didn’t need toxic eyeball goo leeching into their habitat.

Carol caught Brunnhilde shaking out a twitching arm and made her sit to do electronic repairs rather than manual labour. (Carol had that handled anyway, plus, she knew where all the bodies were because she was the one who’d left them there.) Brunnhilde protested that she was the captain. Carol came way too close to saying not of this ship, but stopped herself. Instead, she suggested Brunnhilde do like any other captain would and let her underlings take on the grunt work. That got a smile, if not verbal agreement.

Thankfully, Peggy was a fast learner; Carol explained the basics of what she’d done to wreck something and Peggy quickly understood how to walk back the damage. They worked their way through the ship, staying at neighbouring stations so Carol would be there if Peggy had questions, and Peggy would be there if (when) Carol had messed something up so badly that it needed four hands to fix.

“Maria would’ve been great with this,” she said without thinking, holding up a fistful of wires while Peggy tinkered beneath.

“Maria?”

It was easier to talk about her than it had ever been before. Like with the repairs, she could tell that Peggy understood without Carol having to do much more than gush over how good Maria had been at fixing stuff, how thorough she’d been with the plane she’d kept in the hangar on her property, how reliable, how trustworthy, how patient…

“Yes,” Peggy told her with a smile. “She sounds like she was wonderful.”

“She was.”

But when the two of them had finished their circuit of the ship and Carol went to tell Brunnhilde they were good to go, she wasn’t there. Carol panicked, worried that Brunnhilde had overheard all her praise of Maria and somehow missed the tone of a person who was in the late stages of grief, who had accepted the worst and was keen to keep living, maybe even loving.

When she couldn’t find her on the ship, she jogged down the ramp, intending to look for her outside. The second she turned to face the water, she spotted Brunnhilde coming towards her from the escape vessel. Carol ran out to meet her.

“What’s all this?” she asked in a tone of amusement, because Brunnhilde had her arms full.

“Food, Peggy’s jacket, a couple beers that didn’t get smashed when Thanos rammed us, uh…” She tried to examine the rest of the pile she was carrying, but it teetered and slipped; laughing, Carol scooped a few things out of her arms before they could end up in the shallow water.

“I thought you might’ve taken off on us,” she said lightly.

“I didn’t think you thought I’d be capable of that after getting zapped.”

“I was just…”

Brunnhilde walked close, pressing her arm into Carol’s.

“I know. I would’ve been the same way if it’d been you.”

“I don’t even know if I can get electrocuted,” Carol said.

“I’m not gonna recommend trying it for fun,” Brunnhilde told her. “Anyway, I used all my discs on Thanos and I dropped the remote in the water somewhere… You’d have to go to Thor with your request, ask him to bring the lightning down.”

“Straight to Thor?!” Carol laughed. “That seems a little extreme.”

“Or you could just stand around outside in New Asgard during a storm and wait for it to happen naturally.”

“And why would I need to be in New Asgard specifically?” Carol asked in a teasing voice. “I could get struck by lightning anywhere.”

She watched Brunnhilde flounder but couldn’t get an answer out of her, not on the way to the ship, not while she was distracted with Peggy asking her a slew of health questions, and not while they were trying to figure out how to get this humongous spaceship off the ground with a crew of only three people.

As they made their rocky assent, Carol was too busy to wonder whether Brunnhilde had heard her talking about Maria before she’d left the ship to scavenge from the escape craft. They had just broken through the atmosphere, blue sky giving way to black, when Brunnhilde spoke.

“Love’s like war.”

It was so sudden that Carol snorted a laugh.

“Ok, poet,” she said. She was tempted to devote some time to getting Thanos’s ship to play her music, if only to put on ‘Love Is a Battlefield’ for Brunnhilde. To let her know what had been said on the subject already.

She smirked to herself when Brunnhilde continued, clearly not giving a shit about her interruption or joking criticism.

“It is.”

“What do you mean?” Carol asked more seriously.

Brunnhilde shifted in her seat, engaging different protocols for outer space travel. Carol noticed the tremor had gone from her arm.

“You do better in both because of experience,” Brunnhilde said, looking straight out the viewport. “Anybody who can’t appreciate the benefit of falling for someone who’s been in love before is a fucking idiot.”

“And you’re not a fucking idiot.”

“I hope that isn’t a question.”

Carol smiled and shook her head. They flew in silence for a while.

“When we get back,” she said eventually, peering shyly over at her captain, “I owe someone important to me a visit, but then I’m coming to see you. Just a heads-up.”

“Vaguely threatening.”

“Sorry.”

“No,” Brunnhilde told her, grabbing her forearm to get her full attention, “I liked it.”

Heat raced up Carol’s neck until she was blushing as bright red as her suit, or the dumb acid burn on her arm.

Just then, Peggy’s agitated voice came from the other end of the wide flight deck.

“Someone’s coming right at us!”

Before Carol had the chance to say what the hell? or who? or again?, an incoming message threw a distantly familiar face up in front of them, hovering in the form of a hologram.

“Hey,” Carol greeted. “Small universe.”

—

Peggy had never thought to imagine what Gamora might be like. She’d had an account of Peter Quill’s affection for her from Rocket, but had recognized that a portrayal of the woman that crew had known—the woman Peter had loved enough to forfeit his life in the quest for reunion—couldn’t be fully accurate. At best, the Gamora they described would be one layer removed from the real person. The Gamora they had known and the one whose hologram had just appeared before Peggy, Carol, and Brunnhilde were a handful of years and a thousand experiences apart.

It seemed absurd to Peggy that this woman may wish to harm them, but she really ought to have considered it.

“Was it your distress signal I picked up?” Gamora asked flatly, eyes locked on Carol in the pilot’s seat.

“Umm… yep.”

“And you still require assistance?”

Carol glanced at Brunnhilde, then over to Peggy, who nodded. They certainly had worked wonders, she felt, in getting this massive spaceship off the planet, but who knew how many things could go wrong between here and Earth? Peggy doubted either of her shipmates had told her the half of it. They were simply short-staffed, too few fingers available to plug any metaphorical leaks they might spring on the journey.

“Yes please,” Carol told her.

With a nod, 2014 Gamora went from unknown quantity to ally. Peggy sighed in relief.

The three of them were transported directly from Thanos’s ship to Gamora’s. The process was quite indescribable, Peggy thought. Tingly, quick, with a bit of a lurch as she rematerialized on an entirely different flight deck from the one she’d just left. Had the transfer been instantaneous? Had she, perhaps, ceased to exist for a moment or two? She was full of questions but unsure to whom she should direct them.

Gamora, while welcoming in deed, was somewhat inscrutable when they met her face-to-face. Standoffish. Unsure of herself, Peggy realized. Immediately, she warmed to the woman. She had been in her place herself once, sort of, if not precisely in her intimidating boots. It hadn’t been so long ago that she’d been ferried through time to find the world completely changed. What Gamora needed was a reason to trust them the way they were trusting her.

“I take it you killed my father?” Gamora asked plainly once they were aboard.

Oh dear. It seemed they weren’t off to a very auspicious start.

Brunnhilde stepped in front of Carol, who’d just been opening her mouth to speak, presumably to claim responsibility.

“I was the captain,” she stated. “Thanos was killed on my orders.”

“Uh, no, not explicitly,” Carol argued.

“Anyway,” Peggy piped up, “I’m the one who shot him in the head.”

“And he was only vulnerable to that because I electrocuted him to within an inch of his despicable life and his helmet fell off,” Brunnhilde countered.

“On a planet I flew us to,” Carol reminded them.

“We’ll be sharing the blame,” Peggy informed Gamora on behalf of her crewmates.

Gamora cocked her head consideringly.

“And if it’s approval?” To their universal silence, she explained, “I know what he was capable of in my time, and I saw enough of Earth to get a general idea of what he was set to accomplish if he wasn’t stopped.”

“Were you out here hunting him too?” Peggy took a step towards her.

Directing her gaze away from them, Gamora blinked rapidly, looking momentarily confused and upset. In the next second, she’d hidden any outward hint of those feelings.

“I should’ve been,” she said, “but I’ve never been able to stand up to him like I should have. After I left your planet… for a while, I wasn’t looking for him. But I began to see signs. And then Peter Quill came.”

“Peter!” Carol said. “You saw him? Did you talk to him? Rocket never said—”

“No. I just watched. I followed him for a while. I knew he was looking for me. He was so… loud.” Gamora made a face. “Leaving word for me everywhere, telling traders and transports that he was my boyfriend. He was an idiot, but an entertaining idiot… I barely noticed that I’d stopped keeping track of Thanos until he just showed up…

“I was a coward,” Gamora went on. “I saw my father intercept Peter’s ship and I knew what would probably happen, but I couldn’t put myself between the two of them. Was I supposed to stand up for this guy when I’d never been able to stand up for myself? I was raised to be cruel, to think of myself, that attachments formed to accomplish anything but the acquisition of power make you weak. I know Thanos killed Peter. It’s my fault he’s dead.”

Peggy stood in front of her, refraining from placing a reassuring hand on Gamora’s shoulder when she gave her cagey eyes.

“It’s not,” Peggy told her firmly.

“I only heard your distress signal because I heard Peter’s first,” Gamora said. “I went onboard after my father had left; it was days before I could force myself to do it, maybe longer. I used his communications system to speak to his crewmates on Earth.”

“You must’ve just missed us leaving,” Brunnhilde said.

“That’s what he told me. He said three more morons had left the planet, on their way to hunt down Thanos.”

“And you’ve helped us,” Peggy said, tone insistent. “If you do feel any responsibility for what happened to Peter, then surely you should also believe that you’ve redeemed yourself by saving our backsides.”

Gamora’s eyes squinted as though she were in pain.

“I owed him more than this and I hate it,” she said, jaw clenched. “He was no one to me. He knew someone I’m never going to become.”

“Shhh. I know,” Peggy said soothingly.

“I don’t see how that’s possible. Have you ever had someone tell you they love you when it feels like it’s impossible that they even know you? That whoever they loved had to be a different person from who you are?”

Peggy’s shoulders fell. She could feel the bittersweet smile on her face.

“Actually, yes.”

Gamora appeared surprised to have been brought up short in such a manner.

“Do you have any advice?” Peggy urged softly.

For a minute, Gamora was quiet, staring hard at the wall. Peggy could feel that the others had backed away, giving them time and space when Gamora’s stream of information had been diverted by the confusing grief she was obviously experiencing.

“Whatever lengths he goes to because he thinks you’re better than you are…” Gamora finally said, turning her head to look Peggy in the eye. “Try to be worth it.”

“Got it.”

Peggy folded her hands together, pressing her right palm to her wedding ring.

—

They were about to get underway, their new crew of four on a significantly smaller, though sleeker, ship. (Brunnhilde didn’t mourn for the one they’d left in the shallows; it had served them well, first the Asgardians and now the team responsible for the death of Thanos.) However, staring out the viewport from the seat in which she’d been installed as the effective second-in-command, Brunnhilde didn’t feel right. The sight of Thanos’s ship just hanging there in space unnerved her. It would be better if no trace of the Titan remained.

“Let’s blast it,” she suggested to the deck at large.

“Thanos’s spaceship?” Peggy checked.

“Yes.”

“Well,” Carol said, “we aren’t near anything. There’s nothing for the debris to hit…”

Brunnhilde smiled slightly and looked to the captain.

“Gamora? Do you have any weapons on this ship that could do the job?”

“There is one thing I’ve been saving for a special occasion,” Gamora said, gaze fixed on Thanos’s ship. “First, we’re going to need to get clear.”

She piloted them away—away from the planet, away from the ship. Part of Brunnhilde wanted to request the honour of launching the torpedo Gamora was setting the coordinates for, locking it onto her late father’s final vessel, but she was already satisfied with the role she’d played. Let Gamora take this final, symbolic step. It was like Thor’s hideous couch; Brunnhilde had helped him lug the thing into the open air, but permitted him to drop the match (once she’d soaked the cushions in lighter fluid, just in case it wasn’t sufficiently saturated in spilled beer). She would content herself with watching it go up in flames.

And it did. It was an impressive explosion, scattering wreckage in a wide perimeter Gamora had kept them outside of. They were briefly silent as jagged hunks of metal twisted in the void.

“That’s one way to get the stink of dead bodies out,” Carol noted, and Brunnhilde turned to her, shoulders shaking with laughter Carol quickly joined in on.

They flew for some time, and it was good just to relax, to stretch in her seat and tilt her head from side to side so that her neck cracked horrendously and Peggy said things like “good lord!” while Carol laughed her ass off. Brunnhilde remained alert though. She couldn’t help it. In the old days, with the Valkyrie, there’d been a certain relief when the battle in which they’d been engaged was done, but they’d only known true rest once they’d returned to Asgard. Home. The last time she’d been on a ship bound for Earth, the atmosphere had been one of intense grief, muffled weeping in the corridors. They’d known Earth as Midgard and had little admiration for its country of Norway, chilly with fog and swathed in the bleak colours that reflected their inner emptiness. Nothing they loved was there—not their people, not their gleaming towers and soaring statues. How could it ever possibly feel like coming home?

Brunnhilde had honestly believed she’d lost her ability to experience that feeling, that, without her sisters-in-arms, the sensation was lost to her. Yet, despite the tension she still carried from the fight, she felt it easing. She felt herself longing for home, her little house at the water’s edge. For the chance to return to her people as their king and announce a great evil defeated. Maybe this tension was only anticipation after all.

In contrast to the fruits of her own contemplation and revelation, Gamora’s private thoughts had left her expression mournful and roving. Brunnhilde exited the deck to relieve herself and find something to eat in Gamora’s stores, and when she returned, she addressed her.

“You’re not taking us all the way to Earth, are you?”

Gamora flicked her gaze sideways to assess her. Brunnhilde knew there was no judgement to be found in her face, so she stared back calmly.

“I’m taking you to Quill’s ship. Thanos, in his infinite arrogance, didn’t damage it. Maybe he thought he might like to return to it some time and claim it as part of his fleet. It’s a tribute to how much I continue to feel my father’s influence that I planned to do the same. Not build a fleet, but go back. There’s something about that ship… I find it comforting.”

Brunnhilde frowned thoughtfully.

“Are you sure you don’t want to take it and leave this one for us?”

“No. What I felt when I was onboard, examining it and… and removing Quill’s body for space burial… that was just a feeling of, I don’t know, another life. There’s a group on Earth for whom that ship means something. And it’s the only thing they have of him. I couldn’t keep it.”

“One of those people is your sister,” Brunnhilde said carefully.

“Yes.”

“I tried to talk to her, but she doesn’t like me very much. I don’t blame her,” she added as Gamora gave her a wary look. “She was upset.”

“Nebula is at her most dangerous when upset, and she’s always upset, so she’s always dangerous.”

“She was upset about Peter’s death. But I think also because, without him, no one was out here looking for you.”

Gamora stiffened.

“If she really wants to find me, she can come look for me herself. I’ll be ready.”

“She doesn’t want to fight you,” Brunnhilde said. “She misses you. I think. It’s really none of my business.”

“Why would you wish to get involved in our family affairs?” Gamora’s voice was more curious than accusing. “Besides murdering our father, of course.”

Brunnhilde sighed before answering.

“I’ve lost many people I cared about. I don’t have a family anymore.” She glanced over to see Carol and Peggy bent over a screen together, Carol’s sudden snort infecting Peggy until they were both laughing. “I mean,” Brunnhilde corrected herself, “I didn’t.”

When they arrived at the Benatar and Gamora transported Carol and Peggy off her ship, Brunnhilde motioned for Gamora to hold off a moment on removing her.

“If we don’t meet again,” she said, sticking out her arm for Gamora to grasp.

Gamora gripped her tightly and nodded.

“I think we might though. I thought about it and realized it’s easier for me to find Nebula than for her to find me.”

“I may have left you her coordinates.” Brunnhilde released Gamora’s arm. “Enjoy Missouri.”

She joined Peggy and Carol on the Benatar, pausing to bend over Carol’s seat to surprise her with a deep kiss before she took up her own position. She brushed stray strands of hair back out of Carol’s dancing eyes.

“I’m going to have to redo your braid,” Brunnhilde told her.

“Oh, we’ll have time. We’ve got quite a road trip ahead of us. Luckily… Peter left us his tunes.” Beaming, she started up a song with a bright beat.

Brunnhilde smiled and went to her seat, fastening herself in as Carol readied the vessel for launch.

“You know,” Peggy said thoughtfully, slinging her jacket over the back of her chosen seat, “before all of this, I was actually quite afraid of outer space.”

Carol laughed.

“I can’t imagine why.”

#my writing #Dolls' Eyes #MCU #Avengers: Endgame #Peggy Carter #Brunnhilde #Carol Danvers #Valkyrie #Captain Marvel #Steve Rogers #Nick Fury

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sissytobitch10seconds · 4 years ago

Note

Harry is in a very toxic relationship with Malfoy. They are hiding their relationship because Malfoy is afraid to come out about their relationship to everyone and his parents because they are death eaters and dating the boy who lived will be a disgrace to them and they will disown him. Malfoy is also very jealous of him spending time with Ron and Hermione, they are getting fed up with it but try to be supportive. Harry can only see them in the common room. (part 1 of 6)

REST OF PROMPT: One day, Harry gets very sick and despite Malfoy trying to control him and getting him not to go to the hospital wing, Ron and Hermione walks in, sees the state Harry is in and heard Malfoy calling him all kinds of names. They escort him to the hospital wing, telling Harry enough is enough it's either he chooses Malfoy or their friendship. Harry mumbles he knows but just wants to go to the hospital wing. Madam Pomfrey checks him over and to his horror, he finds out he is pregnant. Harry panics as Madam Pomfrey gives him options but he decides to keep the baby. He immediately tries to tell Malfoy but his boyfriend ignores him as he's furious he left their date to go to the hospital wing. Finally, after dinner, as Harry is walking back to the common room, Malfoy pulls him into an empty room and starts to be sweet/kisses him Harry pulls away and tells him off for being an arse and that he's pregnant. Malfoy starts to get toxic, tells Harry that his parents can't find out Harry's pregnant with his child and forces Harry to choose him or the baby. Harry coldly chooses the baby and ends his relationship with Malfoy. For the next few days, Ron gets very protective of Harry and he soons become his rock. Soon word gets out Harry is pregnant and Malfoy tortures him, the Slytherins taunt him continuously and three months later Ron asks Harry why he won't say who the father is. Harry admits he's afraid of Malfoy and he doesn't need stress Ron comforts him saying he should tell everyone who the father is and what a coward he is for leaving Harry. Harry whispers he can't and Ron tells him he doesn't have to afraid, Ron will protect him which makes Harry melt. That was when he realized he was starting to develop feelings for his best friend. Harry and Ron start to fall for one another and date around the time Harry is 5 months pregnant. Could you add some sweet moments like when Harry asks Ron if he's sure he wants to date someone who's who's pregnant with another bloke's child and Ron replies it doesn't matter if he's pregnant as long as he lets Ron love him and his baby? Their first date and kiss, kissing Harry's stomach, telling Harry he's beautiful when Harry is self conscious, telling him Ron will love the baby as if he's his own and kissing him after he has the baby? Harry thanking him for being there when Malfoy left him?

NOTES: You can also read this on Archive! WARNINGS: Abusive relationships, rumor spreading, pregnancy, pregnancy symptoms, controlling relationships, emotional abuse, and mpreg

“Draco, please,” Harry whispered. His stomach rolled again and he swallowed harshly to try and keep the bile down. He had been feeling ill all day. His skin was hot and tacky to the touch, as well as being overly sensitive like he was a livewire. His stomach had been upset all day as well, despite him being hungry enough to eat a table when he went down to breakfast that morning. His sinuses felt swollen to the point of bursting and his throat was sore from swallowing.

“Wha- oh you’re not still on that, are you?” the blond asked with a roll of his eyes. He snorted. “You’d think that the chosen one would be a bit more resilient. You probably just caught the cold that’s going around. Now if I may continue my story,” he huffed.

“Draco,” Harry complained. He brought his leg up close to him and turned so that he was facing his boyfriend. The two of them were on their weekly date in one of the abandoned classrooms that the trio had found out about in their fifth year when they were avoiding Umbridge. There was a blanket and some food spread out on top of it, though the food smelled wrong to Harry.

The blond rolled his eyes and turned to his lover with an exasperation expression. “What?”

“I don’t feel well! I think I need to go to the hospital wing,” he whispered, brushing a hand over his forehead. He whimpered as snot ran down the back of his throat and he had to swallow it with his sore muscles.

“You don’t need to go to the hospital wing you stupid pansy,” Draco snarled. Neither of them noticed the door opening behind them and letting in the Gyffindor’s best friends. “I’m trying to talk here and you keep complaining like some kind of child.”

“I told you, I feel like I have the flu or something. I have to go to the hospital wing,” he objected.

“You don’t have to go anywhere. You can stay here and talk to me like the good boyfriend you should be acting like. I know that you’re not really ill and you’re just trying to go sneak off and talk to that stupid blood traitor friend of yours.”

“What do you have against Ron? He’s literally done nothing to you to make you hate him,” Harry objected. HIs voice wasn’t nearly as accusatory as he wanted it to be due to how miserable he felt. Normally things were a little one-sided when it came to their conversations, with Draco controlling them and directing them back to himself, but this time it seemed like his boyfriend had ramped all of his bad traits up to eleven. “I do just need to go to the hospital wing. I don’t feel well.”

“Of course you don’t feel well. The one time that I actually get to talk and have some of the attention on me, of course the Chosen One has to have a sickness so that he can make people pay attention to him,” Draco folded his arms over his chest and huffed hautily.

“Harry,” Hermiona called over him before the blond git had the chance to say anything else.

Ron marched into the room, his eyes narrowed menacingly at his best friend’s boyfriend. “Come on, mate. We’re going to bring you to the hospital wing like you wanted,” he offered his hand to Harry, who gratefully took it. He staggered out of the room with the help of Ron to guide him.

“Did you hear the kinds of things that he was saying?” Hermione hissed at them, both of her hands clinging to the strap of her bag. “I can’t believe the audacity of him, especially when you look like this.”

“Yeah, Harry,” Ron nodded. “I mean, he is supposed to be your boyfriend. If he really loves you then he shouldn’t be treating you like this.”

“And that’s not the first time that I’ve heard him complaining about Ron and I. He seems to think that we’re going to steal you away from him just because you hang out with us sometimes. He’s the one that decided that he couldn’t risk making his parents mad long enough to come out about being with a half-blood,” she rolled her eyes. “You know that he’s still spreading rumors around the school about us like he used to before the two of you got together, right?” she asked.

“Hermione, calm down. Harry’s really sick,” Ron said softly as he stopped long enough for the other teenager to steady himself and stop the bile rolling up from his throat.

“No, I’m not going to calm down! This is wrong and we shouldn’t have to tolerate it anymore, any of us,” she stamped her foot. “We shouldn’t have to deal with our best friend’s boyfriend spreading rumors about us around the school and badmouthing us in front of our faces or stealing Harry away from us. Harry shouldn’t have to deal with a boyfriend that’s going to ignore the fact that Harry is clearly sick and do all sorts of other horrible things.”

“She does have a bit of a point, mate,” Ron nodded while awkwardly rubbing the back of his neck.

“Harry, you can either choose our friendship or the relationship you have with Malfoy,” she said, her eyes glistening with the ferocity that she carried into tests and ten page essays.

“I just want to go to the hospital wing before I puke all over the halls and get detention from Filch,” Harry whined as he wrapped his arms around his rolling stomach. His friends exchanged a quick glance between each other before they each took one of his arms and guided him through the rest of the halls to the hospital wing.

Once he was there they were ushered out and Madame Pomfrey began to perform her tests on him. “First, I’m going to need you to tell me what symptoms that you’ve been experiencing.”

“Well, I feel like I have the flu. Food also smells weird and I’m nauseous but I was hungry this morning,” he explained. He shifted uncomfortable as her scrutinizing gaze looked over him a couple of times.

“Well, it’s impossible for you to have gotten food poisoning if you ate things that came from the kitchens and nothing else,” when he nodded she rubbed her chin in thought. She walked away from him and then busied herself with looking through a drawer. When she returned she had an amulet with a stone hooked to the end of it. “Lay back on the bed, Potter. Pull up your shirt so that your stomach is exposed.”

Harry did as he was told, lying back against the bed with his shirt pulled up so that his stomach was exposed. She dropped the necklace down so that it was hanging still over his belly button. She said a couple of words and then the pendent began to swing back and forth, from north to south.

“I was afraid of that,” she tutted as she wrapped the chain back around his hand and it moved it away from him.

Harry sat up, his shirt falling back down around his stomach as he turned towards the medi-witch. He paused for a moment and placed a hand over his mouth as he tried to keep down the nausea threatening him again. She placed a hand on his shoulder and waited until the green color had slowly faded from his face. “I want you to promise me that you will remain calm and stay in here when I tell you your diagnosis,” she said.

“I promise,” Harry whispered. His lips stuck together as all the moisture in his mouth was whisked away with fear. What if something was deathly wrong with him? He had so many responsibilities, he couldn’t deal with a terminal illness on top of all that.

“The charm that I used on you is a pregnancy device. If it swings, then you’re pregnant. North to south is a boy, east to west is a girl,” she explained while showing him the amulet wrapped around her hand.

The teenager in front of her blinked a few times as he tried to take the information in. He was pregnant. There was a tiny life growing inside of his body. A tiny human that he had created when he and Draco had been stupidly intimate. He was used to being told that he was responsible for the lives of the people around him and the entire wizarding world, but they were all faceless, nameless numbers. This was a real, tangible person that he was now directly responsible for.

“Potter,” Madame Pomfrey placed her hand on his shoulder to try and tug him from his thoughts. She handed him a tissue and he dabbed away the tears he hadn’t realized had been streaking down his face. “I know that this is something that is most likely very terrifying and overwhelming for you, but you do have some choices. You can keep the child, give them up for adoption, or abort the pregnancy.”

“I can’t give up my child or kill them,” he whispered, his shoulders sagging.

“Are you sure? This is something very serious. This isn’t something that you can dive into headfirst and then have someone come and save you from when you decide that it’s gotten too hard. This is a lifetime commitment,” she explained seriously.

“I have to,” Harry whispered. “I know what it feels like to grow up without your parents. If the baby is with me then I know that they’ll be in a good home and I won’t have to worry about whether or not they ended up with someone as awful as my aunt and uncle. And I can’t kill them.”

“It wouldn’t be killing them depending on how far along you are,” she explained softly. “But I respect your decision. I will have to tell the rest of the staff as well as the headmaster. Do not worry, they won’t expel you for this.”

“That’s good, because I don’t have anywhere else to go,” he nodded timidly. The next two hours or so were filled with Madame Pomfrey educating him about everything that would happen with the pregnancy and the kinds of things that he needed to be aware of this early. She gave him anti-morning sickness potions and taught him a couple charms for making things taste different and ways to get rid of fatigue and other symptoms.

By the time that they had finished, Harry was both feeling more overwhelming and more prepared for something than he had ever been. His bag contained a few of the potions he now had to take every morning and night. He walked out and saw that Hermione and Ron were still waiting for him.

“What happened, mate?” Ron asked at the same time as Hermione asked, “Are you alright?”

“Erm,” he glanced up and down the hall to make sure that no one else was around. “I’m pregnant.”

“Oh Harry,” Hermione cried, quickly wrapping her arms around him. “That must be so frightening.”

Normally he shied away from physical affection, especially when it came to both of his friends after he had been together with Draco for a while. Now, however, he gratefully took the hug and hugged her back. “It’s so scary.”

When Hermione finally released the raven-haired teen from the hug, Ron clapped a hand on his shoulder, “We’re going to help you through this, mate. You won’t be alone.”

“Are you going to keep the baby?” Hermione asked as they slowly began to walk down to dinner.

“Yes. I can’t bear the thought of giving them away or killing them,” he shook his head. They were mostly quiet as they continued down the hall. When they got to the staircase that went down to the Great Hall and led up to the common room, Harry separated from his friends so that he could drop off his bag and hide the potions in his trunk.

Once he had finished with that, he hurried back down the hall so that he could get to dinner before the time was over. He spotted a head of blond hair that was very familiar and rushed to catch up with his boyfriend. “Draco! I have something to-”

He stopped as the blond whirled around and jabbed an accusatory finger into his chest. “I don’t want to hear a word from you right now, Potter,” he seethed.

“Draco,” Harry pleaded as he walked after his boyfriend.

“No, you need to be punished for bailing on our date with your stupid friends. You didn’t even return and I had to clean everything up!” Draco threw his arms up in exasperation. Harry didn’t try to fight anything that he was saying, his head bowed as Draco stormed down to the Great Hall. Eventually, the raven-haired teenager slowly walked down the staircase as well.

They sat away from the other Gryffindors that night at dinner, talking quietly amongst the three of them. Harry could feel Draco staring at the back of his head from where he was sitting at the Slytherin table, but he knew that the blond would eventually come around. When they had finished, Harry decided that he was going to head up to the common room before the others since Hermione wanted to talk to someone about a project and Ron wasn’t finished with his deserts.

He sighed to himself as he walked through the mostly empty halls. He let out a startled noise as the door to a broom cupboard opened and a hand darted out, tugging him into the enclosed space. He was pushed against the wooden door and felt hands slowly running up and down his abdomen.

“You can’t stay mad at me forever, can you?” Draco asked in a low, sultry voice as he continued his motions. He kissed just underneath Harry’s earlbow and then continued the trail down his chin to underneath where his neck met his jaw.

“Draco, stop,” Harry reached up and grabbed his wrist, pushing him off. “You’re a complete arse. Now I know why you didn’t want me seeing Hermione and Ron. You were worried that if I talked to my friends and they saw the way that you treated me then I would break up with you, and now you’re scared that it’s going to happen so you’re being nice to me.”

“No, Harry, I love you,” he tried again, his other hand reaching out to cup Harry’s cheek.

The Chosen One was silent for a moment before he said, “I’m pregnant.”

Draco recoiled from his boyfriend, holding his hands up in the air like he had just touched something disgusting. He made an offended noise and wrinkled his nose with displeasure. “You can’t seriously be thinking about keeping it. Imagine what my parents would do if they found out that impregnated some halfblood that destroyed our family,” he sneered. “I won’t have it.”

“Draco, I’m keeping the baby. You can’t seriously ask me to get rid of a child that could go to a home like I did,” he whispered, tears collecting in his eyes as he shook his head.

“Harry, you can’t keep that thing. Imagine what people would think about me! After everything that you put me through today, you have to pick one. The spawn or me,” he said, folding his arms across his chest and sticking his nose in the air.

Harry’s hand balled into a fist by his side. He took a deep breath to try to calm himself down, but when he looked up at Draco, his eyes were flickering with rage. “I choose the baby.” he whirled around, grabbed the door handle, and left the broom cupboard as quickly as he could.

---

Three months had passed since the fight that Harry had with Draco. Since then, his friends had become a lot more protective of him. Ron walked with him to every class, and Hermione busied herself with finding out everything she could about pregnancy and putting it into a format that Harry would actually remember. The raven-haired teen would have been worried about people getting suspicious if the news of his pregnancy hadn’t flown all over the school within a week.

It wasn’t nearly as bad as he had dreaded it being. The teachers- with the exception of Snape- were very diligent about making sure that none of the other students were harassing Harry and he wasn’t overextending himself. It got a bit annoying with Professor Sprout and Professor Trawleny because the former became a bit of a mother hen and the later kept announcing that he would die in childbirth and couldn’t do anything lest he advance the process.

That being said, the teachers could only do so much. They made sure that he was safe during classes and meals, but there was only so much that they could do on weekends and after school hours. Most people ignored him, with a few of the older students looking at him with pity or disdain. The younger kids seemed to have lost a lot of their reverence when it came to him, but were still excitable and annoying as always. The kids in his house treated him like he was fragile, which was a bit annoying but not necessarily a bad thing. The Slytherins were the main problem.

Draco had riled them all against Harry more so than they already had been before. They called him names and made implications about who he would let in between his legs. They would slap the books from his hands or push him with their shoulders when he was walking down the halls. There would be more jeers and insults thrown at him then there had been during his third year when he had been chosen by the rigged Goblet.

Currently, the trio was sitting in the back of the library at Hermione’s favorite table while she poured over books for her research. Harry had his arms folded in front of him and his head resting on top of them, trying to fight off the tiredness. One of the side effects of the charm that he had been given was that he had to have an off day, something that he had only found out after using it during the weekend once so now the day where he couldn’t use it lay in the middle of the week. Ron was sitting across from him while trying to balance one of the thick, ancient novels that Hermione had pulled from the shelves on the edge of the table using the spine.

A group of Slytherin seventh years entered the library and snickered as they walked by, muttering a couple of insults and kicking Harry’s chair. Hermione glanced up from her book just long enough to glare menacingly at them before she returned back to her reading.

“You know, if you just told them who the father was this wouldn’t be as bad,” Ron sighed as he glared after the older students.

“I can’t,” Harry replied as he began to trace over an old mark in the table made by a charm gone wrong.

Ron was quiet for a moment, setting the book back down on the table properly. “Why not? That git was selfish and just abandoned you after knocking you up. You could even figure out how to do one of those charms that proves the father by branding them with your name on his cheek for a day so that no one could question you.”

“I can’t,” he repeated again with a small shrug.

“Why?” he demanded, his fierce protectiveness not directed at Harry but very evident.

“Because I’m scared,” he replied, shrugging his shoulders weakly. “I mean, I’m pregnant and apparently sometimes that can make your magic go all wonky. What happens if he decides to attack me and then my magic stops working? It would hurt both me and the baby.”

Ron reached across the table, taking Harry’s hand and forcing the other to look up into his eyes with his other hand. “Harry, you don’t have to be scared. You have me. I’ll protect you,” he smiled softly.

Harry felt his heart flutter madly in his chest and his stomach did a flip that was definitely not caused by morning sickness. He tried to drive the thought from his mind, but he couldn’t help but feel like he was beginning to catch feelings for his best friend. “Alright,” he nodded after taking a moment to consider it. “I think that I can do it.”

“You mean that I’ll do it,” Hermione said as she looked up from her book. “That’s a rather complicated spell and I’m the only one out of the three of us willing to sit here and study it,” despite the teasing in her words, she looked rather excited for another project.

“If you would, Hermione,” Harry nodded hopefully.

“Of course,” she beamed as she leaned over and gave him a platonic kiss on the cheek.

---

The smell of breakfast in the burrow woke Harry up late that morning. He dragged himself out of the bed as his stomach growled to remind him how hungry he was. He let out a small shudder from the cold as his night shirt rode up on his stomach and exposed it to the cool air of the bedroom. He dressed slowly as he thought back to everything that had happened since he conceived the baby.

After deciding that they were going to expose Draco for the cruel abuser that he was, Hermione had studied the spell they were going to use and then cast it. Everyone found out almost immediately as one thing that the charm did was make it impossible to cover up the words ‘This is the father of Harry Potter’s baby.’ The Slytherins had immediately distanced themselves from the blond git, not because he turned out to be a backstabbing abuser, but because he had slept with a half-blood and then gotten their mortal enemy pregnant. There were a few comments from people in their house until Ron had come out and shut them all up by explaining how manipulative and abusive Draco had been about the entire thing.

Everything had continued as normally as it could when Harry was expecting a baby as a teenager. They graduated and then only Hermione decided that she was going to go back to school for her final year. Harry and Ron were both waiting for when the baby came and they could go around and help with the Order. Neither of them could look too far past the immediate future of this impending war.

Harry let out a small sigh as he turned sideways in the mirror and looked over himself. The roundness of his stomach was now unmistakably a pregnancy bump. He frowned and tugged his shirt down a little bit to try and hide it, unsure how he felt about the roundness.

“Harry? What are you doing?” Ron asked as he walked up the stairs, his brows furrowed with worry.

“Just… getting dressed,” he shrugged as he tugged the shirt down again.

The redhead gave him a small, knowing look as he crossed over the small space between the doorway and Harry. “Are you self-conscious about the belly?”

“I mean, wouldn’t you be? I look bloated,” he grumbled as his eyes drifted back to his reflection again.

“Harry,” Ron laughed as he took the other man’s hands. “You don’t look bloated, you look pregnant,” he chuckled. “And that’s really beautiful.”

“Are you saying I’m beautiful?” Harry asked, unsure but optimistic.

“I mean, yeah,” he turned almost the same color as his hair. “I’ve… I’ve liked you since before you and Malfoy got together but I couldn’t say anything because then you were pregnant and I didn’t want to put any kind of pressure on you,” he said nervously.

“I love you,” the other teen whispered. He placed his hands on the back of Ron’s neck and tugged him down for a kiss. He could feel himself crying as their lips moved back and forth, but the kiss was still so full of love and care that he fell in love with the ginger all over again. When they separated he let out a small laugh while their foreheads were pressed together. “I’ve loved you since Malfoy and I broke up. You were there for me when it felt like everyone was against me, time and time again. You accepted me with no complaints and you dealt with me when I was being a complete ass.”

“I love you Harry. No matter how much of an ass you’re being, I still love you. And if you’ll let me, I want to be with you,” Ron whispered, his eyes closed with apprehension.

“You want to be with me?” Harry asked with a small, forced laugh. “You have to be joking, right? I’m pregnant with another bloke’s child.”

Ron dropped down onto his knees in front of Harry and pulled up his shirt to reveal his stomach. He kissed the swollen, stretched skin there. “I don’t care if you got pregnant after sleeping with every bloke at the school, you’re still the love of my life. I would be honored if you would let me be with you,” he stood up and held both of Harry’s hands in his own. “On one condition.”

“What?”

“You promise that I am allowed to love you and the baby with my whole heart,” he whispered, a goofy grin falling over his face.

“Of course, you git,” Harry threw his arms around Ron’s neck and brought their faces together for another kiss.

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sailor-toni · 5 years ago

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A Heir in Sheep’s Clothing

Based on this Prompt! Thank you to @dp-marvel94 and @ecto-american for helping me find it. Vlad Masters. Billionaire, business guru, and number seven on Forbes list of top ten hottest rich bachelors. He rose the ranks of a small Wisconsin cheese company and became CEO at the age of twenty-four. He has made several generous donations to a few hospitals, a few medical charities, and to one school in Amity Park. He keeps his head low and gains more money by the hour than most do in a month. A perfect hit for what Darien has planed.

Grabbing his tool kit, a few items of clothing and his notebook. Darien, blue eyes, grey hair, and a head taller than the Masters himself. Threw the laptop in the microwave. Cranked it up to eleven, and ran from his foster parents trailer.

Three weeks later he was on the Local Amity Park station. A small rip in his hoodie, exposed a large stain. A bruise on his cheek accompanied his tired eyes, and a downhearted look graced his oh so sad face. These blue puppy eyes looking longing into the large expensive camera.

“When did you figure out he was your father?” The reporter asked.

“When I saw him on TV. I have vague memories of my poor mother talking about how Dad was gonna come home any day,” he paused, a look of pain and sorrow twisted his face. “He looks just like the man my mother described, and I know deep down that he's my father. Like how a mother knows who her son is. It’s a gut feeling Mrs.”

“Have you contacted your father?”

“I have.”

“And what did he say?”

“He… he did not believe me. Which I guess I could understand. I’m just some kid on the street. I’m sure he has like, a hundred or so of those claiming to be his son. I’m no different I guess. But I’m not just some random kid. Mr Masters, Dad. If you’re watching this, I will take whatever test you want, I’ll...I’ll go in front of a judge and tell him, I’ll walk on water if you want.. I just want to be a family with you sir. Is that so much to ask for?”

The reporter put a hand on his shoulder, signing off to the camera. An intern ran up to give him a box of tissues, a camera man gave him a big leather jacket. The joints of the jacket were faded and the but well loved, and the reported offered to buy him lunch. Remorseful faces gave him what he needed and much more. More than he deserved, but not unwanted. An eye drop container sat in his new coat pocket, sung against the leather, as Vlad Master bore holes into his own fine leather chair. Eyes glazed over in anger at the wolf born child.

Darien cease to mind this. His tears were long gone by the time he left the hotel shower. Thick clouds of steamed followed him into the lavish yellow room. Golden stripes ramped up and down the walls. Moving within his eyes site as he bounced upon the soft bed. A woman saw him on the news and paid for him to rest. How kind, how sweet. His bruise was gone now, but would soon make its reappearance from with in his stolen makeup kit. Just like the sad poor boy, who had walked from West Virginia to Wisconsin to find his father after the slow and painful death of his mother had left him, without a family. Cancer takes the good ones so soon.

Gagging from his own thoughts Darien laughed and howled at the act.

“Sheesh in this town they’ll buy anything.”

Resting on the bed, its golden cushions would soon be on his own bed, in his mansion, with his father? Dad? Papa? What would he call him? It didn’t matter. From the hotel’s computer his story had gone viral, and that's what matters. You can’t say no to an angry hate mob. He thought to himself. The dimming lights of the room lulling him to a shallow sleep.

“Get up!” Darien rocked up from his bed. The golden room, now a deep shade of pink. The bouncing stripes that lined the walls, were now caving around him and the figure. pale blue skin, blood red eyes, and white blazing fangs, like it was from a scary children's book. Every detail created to terrify a small child, down to the white cape and spiked vampire like hair. But this was not a spook created from tired writers profiting off a child's nightmares. The figure hovered above the bed, the small cracks of dirt speckled across his boots, as Darien watched his chest rise and fall like normal men. But his eyes, pupil less and swirling with hatred, drilled into his mask.

“You think it's fun to deceive and lie on the news. Manipulating those morons into your little con.” The figure spoke.

“This isn’t a con! I just want to see my father- and who are you? Why are you here?” The figure replied with a long hearty, almost fleshy laugh.

“Darien, son of none, you must take me for a fool.”

The kid was taken aback. He knew this town had ghost. He knew. He saw the news and in this age a lot of things can happen, but. The ghost continued, his voice coasting through his thoughts.

“Vlad Masters has no children. A sad state of affairs indeed, but greatness is not always recognized.”

“And you can see it?” Darien said.

“Of course. I am an old ghost. Traveling from times far beyond your own. I have seen this con before and I'll see it again. But I have an interest in the Masters and I don't wish for you to...interfere with my plans.”

“Plans? What plans?” Darien asked. Thoughts swirling in his mind like a toxic cauldron overflowing, its thick mucus burning questions into the floor.

“Nothing you need to worry about. Now Take this warning as your final one. If I must make myself known to you again, it will be the last breath you will take.”

“Your pretty blatant with your plans. Heh, you think that you would be a tad more selective about it.”

“Why?”

“What?” “What need do I have to keep my intentions hidden. Unlike yourself my intentions don’t betray my cause. I am a ghost? What would someone do? Kill me twice?” He laughed, again.

“Well I mean what about Ghost hunters- or” “Ghost hunters! Don’t make me laugh! Seriously, don't. Children have a nasty habit of wearing my patience quite thin.”

Darien gulped. The figure’s hands matched his eye in intensity. The pink glow spiking bright like a heartbeat.

“I. I won’t give up! You think some gay looking Dracula is gonna scare me! I can defend myself,” Darien was trembling again. “And I won’t let someone like you take this away from me. I deserve -”

“You deserve nothing.”

The world was pink, then white, and now sunlight. Its soft warming rays opened the hotel’s curtains singing him to rise. The room’s yellow walls felt worlds apart from his body. The ghost of nails tethering around each of his goosebumps, as his eyes scanned the room. Nothing was unusual, nor upset. It was just him in a bright cheerful room.

It must have been a dream. He thought to himself. In the bathroom, Darien saw it. While not paranormal, it was abnormal. There was a bruise on his cheek.

#Danny Phantom #Vlad Masters #OC #Dairen #adoption #au #based on a writing prompt but I can't find it anymore #my writings #my work #fan fiction #ghost

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karazrel · 5 years ago

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I'm just gonna slide on in here and say how nice it was to see the someone else had a problem with the way Hopper was written this season? While I can't say for certain that he's a horrible character, I do think that he's been heavily flanderized into an overprotective dad with shades of toxic masculinity. He does have his good moments, but those are few and far between what I saw.

yep I really disliked him this season, more so than I ever remember disliking him before. like I’m a bit fuzzy on what happened in s1-2 but I feel like his misgoyny was ramped up to a 100 this time around. there’s barely any scene of his where he’s not 1) shouting 2) being sexist 3) being irrationally possessive and jealous or 4) a charming combination of all 3. I felt like his only good scenes were with el and that’s ignoring the disaster that was ep 1 and his reaction to mike/eleven (which I have issues w anyway but that’s another can of worms) and they barely had any scenes together. overall I’m just really disappointed in the way he was written, I really wanted to like him but he just came off like an insensitive sexist brute and then the narrative rewarded him for it ://

#asks #anonymous #3 #4 #5 #st spoilers #stranger things spoilers #anti jim hopper

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sirsparklepants · 5 years ago

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Today is my mom’s birthday. If she hadn’t died a year and a half ago, she’d be 53. I love her, and despite my childhood with her, I miss her. But I wanted to take today to deliver a perhaps... more nuanced tribute to her than I could somewhere like Facebook. I wanted to talk about a pretty difficult topic: when you still love your abusive parents.

Below the cut: child abuse, parental death

My parents separated when I was eight, after two years of increasingly toxic behavior toward each other. They both continued their separate downward spirals until about when I entered high school five years later, when they leveled out into a plateau of “mentally ill and still abusive but functional”. Coincidentally, when I hit high school (a year early at 13, I was bumped up a year before they split), I made some of the most genuine close friends of my life, a few of whom I’m still close with to this day. And that’s when I started to realize that even aside from being divorced, life with my parents... wasn’t quite normal.

I figured everyone got pissed with their parents and had screaming matches. Everyone had chores and had to look after their younger siblings. Everyone had to sit down and listen to their parents lecture them about the most tedious shit. But... something didn’t quite fit. I’d tell a story that I thought was hilarious and get met by a room full of horrified stares. My friends’ chore load wasn’t as heavy as mine. No one else got crowded into walls and told “you’re lucky I know better than to slap you” or “be careful next to those stairs, huh?” And no one else’s parents thought it was funny to give their eleven-year-old a drink or have them bartend at their parties.

See, before high school, I didn’t have close friends I could trust. I didn’t understand how to socialize, really, until then. This was my first time seeing into the home lives of other people, and it was eye-opening. Even my parents on their best behavior clearly weirded some of my friends out a bit. Even the ones with abusive parents themselves. Probably because my parents were both alcoholics with severe bipolar disorder with psychotic features. My mom had dissociative identity disorder as well. My dad was a coke addict for several years who blew through quite literally multiple millions of dollars on either drugs or manic or drug-fuelled bad decisions in... oh, less than ten years, I think. So almost everything they did had to be extreme.

But the thing was, though, they weren’t all bad. That’s the thing that people sometimes miss in their depictions of abusive parents. You don’t just love them because they’re your parents. They’re also not abusive all the fucking time. My dad took us on fantastic island vacations and to Disney and out to eat for every birthday and to the bookstore every couple of weeks. My mom made us art and let us watch cool movies and listen to cool music and loved to let us choose clothes we liked. In retrospect, most of those choices were either financially or like, parentally irresponsible (I watched Natural Born Killers for the first time when I was thirteen), but when you’re a teen, you don’t think about shit like that.

You think, ‘oh, my parents are the fun parents. They’re the ones who will let me stay out at night as late as I want as long as they know where I am. They’re the ones who won’t make us do homework if we have friends over after school. They’re the ones who will let us watch Rocky Horror and not tell any of the other parents, especially the religious ones. They’ll let me sleep in the same bed as my boyfriend. That’s so much better than what my friends deal with.’ And you take the rest of it - the responsibility for younger siblings, the yelling, the heavy chore list that really should belong to an adult that’s basically all the housework and cooking, the listening to your parents destroy shit and sob when they get upset, the hitting, the listening to your siblings get hit - as the price for them being the fun one. Or you think, ‘they let me do so much fun stuff, I have so much freedom, and I still fuck up. It probably really is my fault and this is a justified punishment.’

I was probably sixteen, in my junior year of high school, when I really realized that things weren’t right. I’d been living in a bubble of unreality. And that’s when the bad stuff started ramping up from my mother. I would start fights with her just to keep her attention on me, so she’d stop screaming at my younger sister over her grades. I’d get after my sister for her homework, but much more gently. I’d do all the laundry, clean the house, and cook dinner most nights. And most weekends, she’d get drunk and cry on me about her boyfriend problems, about my dad and how awful he’d been to her, about her relationship with her parents. I became the parent in that household, and it was suffocating. And it was most suffocating because I genuinely loved her. I still love her. I wanted her to do better. And I thought if I left, I’d be abandoning her and abandoning my sister.

I did leave, eventually, and it caused her to attempt suicide to get me back. When my sister left, three years later, she did the same thing. I had a very hot and cold relationship with my mother most of my adult life. With my father as well, but that was mostly papered over by pleasantries. My mom came to me and apologized for what a fuck-up she’d been during my childhood - a rambling, self-centered, guilt-trippy apology, but it was there. But even without that, I loved her and would have tried to make it work with her, because I genuinely wanted her mental health to improve and cutting her support system down wouldn’t do that. If she stepped over my clearly delineated boundaries, we didn’t talk for a set period of time. When she didn’t, we went out to lunch and talked about work and she gave me small little gifts that improved my day - bath oil in my favorite brand and scent, a tiny light with a screen over it to look like a planetarium, oil perfumes, things like that. Because she knew me. Sometimes she used that knowledge to hurt me, and sometimes she used it to care for me.

When she died, we were in a good place, relatively. I didn’t hear from her for Christmas, but I was going to see her for New Years, probably, because we never set much stock in dates. But two days after Christmas, I got a call from my sister. She’d died. She’d died two weeks ago.

I don’t think I can explain the conflicting mass of emotions that rose up in me, those first few months. I’d seen her a week before she died. She’d hugged me. But I hadn’t really talked with her, because it got up to 80 outside (yes, in December, I live in Satan’s taint) and I was making gravy on the stove without the AC and I got sick from the heat, so I laid down for most of the visit. But I said hello to her, and I did talk with her, and I hugged her goodbye. It was good. She behaved herself, didn’t drink, didn’t get too loud and self-centered. It was a good note to end our relationship on. But I can’t count how many times I expressed, to my best friend and my then-boyfriend, that I wish we had been on the outs so I’d feel less grief. That I’d feel less guilty that no one checked on her, even though she isolated herself and often went weeks without speaking to anyone. That if I was angry with her, doing the things that I needed to do would be easier. That if I was angry with her, I wouldn’t feel so badly about still having so much lingering anger about my childhood. That no one would expect me to come up with a beautiful eulogy at her funeral. That her friends wouldn’t be so angry with me for not checking on her.

It’ll be two years in December, and I’m still not done processing everything. I’m still conflicted. But two facts do stand out to me. She was abusive. I did still love her.

Happy birthday, Mom. I love you, and I see you, the whole person. You were doing better, but that didn’t make up for your fuckups. But neither did your fuckups take away from the good you did. You believed that things continue, so here it is, my tribute: I believe you are keeping on, somewhere. I believe that you’re beyond the concerns and hurts that dragged you down. I believe that’s what’s left of you is love. Love and dragonflies and the light of the moon and the sun.

Love, your kid.

#abuse cw #parent death #feel free to spread this around and talk about it how you like #keeping things locked down has never worked well for me

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deniscollins · 6 years ago

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F.D.A. Targets Vaping, Alarmed by Teenage Use

Federal law prohibits selling e-cigarettes to anyone under 18, but the F.D.A. reports that more than two million middle and high school students were regular users of e-cigarettes last year. If you were an executive with Juul, which controls 72% of the market and valued at $16 billion, and the FDA gave you 60 days to come up with a viable plan to keep the devices away from minors or face a ban against your product, what would be your plan for regulating your industry? Why? What are the ethics underlying your plan?

The Food and Drug Administration on Wednesday declared that teenage use of electronic cigarettes has reached “an epidemic proportion,” and it put makers of the most popular devices on notice that they have just 60 days to prove they can keep their devices away from minors.

The order was part of a sweeping government action that targeted both makers and sellers of e-cigarettes. If Juul Labs and four other major manufacturers fail to halt sales to minors, the agency said, it could remove their flavored products from the market. It also raised the possibility of civil or criminal charges if companies are allowing bulk sales through their websites.

The agency said it was sending warning letters to 1,100 retailers — including 7-Eleven stores, Walgreens, Circle K convenience shops and Shell gas stations — and issued another 131 fines, ranging from $279 to $11,182, for selling e-cigarettes to minors.

Federal law prohibits selling e-cigarettes to anyone under 18. In a briefing with reporters, the F.D.A. commissioner, Dr. Scott Gottlieb, said that more than two million middle and high school students were regular users of e-cigarettes last year.

The government’s tactics underscore a dilemma in the public health community: In addressing one public health problem — cigarette smoking, which kills 480,000 people in the United States each year — e-cigarettes are creating another — hooking teenagers who have never smoked on nicotine.

E-cigarette users inhale far fewer toxic chemicals than do smokers of traditional cigarettes. But they can take in higher levels of nicotine, which is addictive.

“The developing adolescent brain is particularly vulnerable to addiction,” the F.D.A. said in its statement announcing the actions.

In particular, the agency has been watching the wildly popular Juul, which offers especially potent nicotine hits. Juul Labs launched the sleek device, which looks like a flash drive, in 2015. It comes with “pods” in eight flavors, among them mango, menthol and creme. In a short time, Juul has become the dominant seller of e-cigarettes and a fad among students. According to Nielsen data, Juul controls 72 percent of the market, and is valued by investors at $16 billion.

In an emailed statement, a Juul spokeswoman said: “Juul Labs will work proactively with F.D.A. in response to its request. We are committed to preventing underage use of our product, and we want to be part of the solution in keeping e-cigarettes out of the hands of young people.”

Dr. Gottlieb said the F.D.A. would look closely at whether Juul and the other manufacturers were allowing bulk purchases of products through their own websites — a practice where the buyer could then sell to minors.

If such “straw sales” are happening, it should be readily apparent to the manufacturers, he said. “If the companies don’t know, or if they don’t want to know, we’ll now be helping to identify it for them.”

The other four products facing the 60-day deadline are RJR Vapor Co.’s Vuse, Imperial Brands’ blu and devices made by Logic. They said they were working with the F.D.A. as well.

RJR, Imperial and Altria are all major tobacco companies. As smoking rates have declined, the industry sees e-cigarettes as an important piece of its survival, a fact that makes some in public health mistrustful.

“They say they’ve changed from the days of Joe Camel,” Dr. Gottlieb said. “But look at what’s happening right now, on our watch and on their watch. They must demonstrate that they’re truly committed to keeping these new products out of the hands of kids.”

Dr. Gottlieb has said many times he believes that e-cigarettes and similar products known as electronic nicotine delivery systems may be effective options for adults who want to stop smoking but still crave nicotine. But he said teenage vaping has become so concerning that regulators may have to curb the availability of the devices to keep them out of the hands of youths.

“Inevitably what we are going to have to contemplate are actions that may narrow the off-ramp for adults who see e-cigarettes as a viable alternative to combustible tobacco in order to close the on ramp for kids,” Dr. Gottlieb said. “It’s an unfortunate trade-off.”

Dr. Gottlieb’s aggressive approach against private industry is unusual for an official in the business-friendly Trump administration which has sought to roll back numerous environmental and health regulations. But critics said that his decision last summer to extend a deadline for e-cigarette manufacturers to demonstrate that their products comply with public health concerns helped perpetuate the current problem.

“It’s nice they want to do something but realistically, what are they going to accomplish this way when they could be so much more effective by following the regulatory plan that had been ready to put into place and that the commissioner postponed?” said Diana Zuckerman, president of the National Center for Health Research, a nonprofit health policy group.

She also pointed to the popularity of vaping among young adults. Researchers generally believe that the adolescent brain continues to develop through age 26. “It’s a big epidemic among people ages 18 to 30, too,” she said.

And while the F.D.A.’s announcement struck many as tough, legal experts said the agency could face a protracted legal fight if it follows through on its threats to ban flavors and curtail marketing.

Marc J. Scheineson, a health care lawyer and a former associate F.D.A. commissioner, said that the agency was relying on public opinion and its own bully pulpit to push the targeted manufacturers into “voluntary compliance.”

Some antismoking groups, while encouraged by the F.D.A.’s actions, expressed caution: “Asking the tobacco industry to come up with solutions is the proverbial case of asking the fox to guard the hen house,” said Robin Koval, the president and chief executive of Truth Initiative. “After decades, there is no evidence that the tobacco industry is able to regulate itself.”

In April, the F.D.A. announced it was investigating Juul’s marketing practices to determine if the company deliberately targeted youths. The agency requested reams of documents from the company, including focus group reports and toxicology studies. Juul has submitted thousands of pages of records to the agency, but neither the F.D.A. nor Juul have made them public. Dr. Gottlieb said the agency’s tobacco division is still poring through them.

While the actions against the industry are alarming to the e-cigarette companies, they are also problematic for the F.D.A.

In July 2017, as part of a broad plan to reduce tobacco deaths in the United States, the F.D.A. extended the deadline for e-cigarette makers to comply with new tough federal guidelines, which, among other things, require companies to prove the e-cigarettes are beneficial to public health. In granting the five-year extension till 2022, Dr. Gottlieb said he would also force manufacturers to cut nicotine levels in traditional cigarettes, to render them nonaddictive. For that to work, he said, smokers needed more and better cigarette substitutes.

But in an interview, Dr. Gottlieb said the immense popularity of vaping among teens and the growing addiction among young people was not something he foresaw last summer, and the agency must rethink its policy — perhaps moving the deadline closer and requiring companies to gain F.D.A. approval to stay on the shelves.

Risa Robinson, a professor of mechanical engineering at Rochester Institute of Technology, began studying e-cigarettes six years ago for the F.D.A. The early products did not have enough nicotine to cause concern, she said. But later products, like Juul, had more nicotine and, she said, can become even stronger depending on how deeply a user puffs.

“I’m highly concerned now,” Dr. Robinson said. Beyond nicotine, the addition of heat to the e-liquid flavors generates chemicals that have not yet been studied in depth, she added.

The attorney general of Massachusetts, Maura Healey, who recently began an investigation into the marketing and sale of e-cigarettes to minors, praised the F.D.A.’s action.

“We’ve worked too hard over the past 50 years to reduce smoking rates among young people to let these companies profit off of getting them hooked on nicotine,” Ms. Healey said. “This move by the F.D.A. is a good first step to shut down companies targeting minors.”

A Juul spokeswoman, Victoria Davis, said recently that the company had already stepped up its own patrol of retailers who advertise to youths or who don’t enforce age requirements, as well as social media posts. But it’s not always easy.

From Jan. 1 through July 28, Ms. Davis said, Juul asked Instagram to remove over 5,500 posts, and the social media company complied on 4,562. Facebook Marketplace was less agreeable. The company agreed to remove 45 of 144 posts. Amazon took down 13 of 33.

Dr. Gottlieb said he was not impressed by the measures Juul and the other companies have taken.

“It didn’t have the intended impact or I wouldn’t be viewing the statistics I’m now seeing,” he said.

#E-Cigarettes #Regulation

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marveltaughtmetoread · 4 years ago

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I also do think it's partly a response to Eliot being sidelined because as the show wore on, Eliot did seem to become less involved, even in fighting the one thing he was initially employed for, the others slowly began taking over that role and there were other moments where plot beats that worked amazingly with his character where given to others, so one's involving kids and cooking

The others cared for kids, especially Parker, but Parker was a kid, she was the "fun uncle"(because sexism means that title is gendered) whereas Eliot was the responsible parent. Sophie was just uninterested in kids, she would look after one but she didn't even want a kid and she would probably only do it under duress. Hardison would probably be a slightly more responsible "fun uncle" because for all his goofiness he did also understand responsibility and could take it. Nate, they kept trying to make it happen, they kept trying to give him stories in which he is shown caring for his kid but they just use his son's death. That is his defining story arc and I cannot convey how little I care for it. I don't care that his son died because it doesn't change how toxic his character is. Although he does mellow, he still manipulates he still doesn't fully give the team a choice (especially Hardison) he assumes things will go his way and they do but he shouldn't have made that assumption. The team is a group of adults and they still almost fall apart due to his toxicity on multiple occasions. I never want him near kids because he thinks he cares but I don't know that he does. He is a really well written character but that is also why he is so good at triggering all my feelings of helplessness anger and frustration caused by people like him acting like him to me when I was a child. I don't want him near kids. Meanwhile, Eliot is over here, caring about kids, being gentle with them and just generally being the caretaker he always is but ramped up to eleven because this a kid and his protective instincts or on overdrive. Eliot clearly cares, in a way they rest of the team doesn't. The rest of the team cares about the bigger picture and they care about their client but Eliot just cares, he cares about individuals with no other reason but because they exist, his pragmatism was someone he clearly learnt over years and is part of his dark backstory rather than just something that fits his personality. And all of this makes him great with kids because he will sacrifice his pragmatism for their innocence, he will hold their hands when they're scared, and he will protect them and then the story is like this arc is about kids so let's give it to someone else and I am like why

And the same thing happens with a restaurant, it makes perfect sense that Hardison impulsively bought an entire building because that is the type of person he is but the fact that it is a restaurant annoys Eliot in canon. He was the one who wanted a restaurant and who loves cooking. It is actually sorta of a not great thing to have done on Hardison's part because he knows Eliot well enough that he should have considered him but it still fits with his character because he should have thought about it but his impulsivity means he wouldn't have. The story however, didn't need to have Hardison doing that they could have briefly mentioned that Hardison had Eliot in mind when he bought the place and then have Hardison go but you don't have to be involved if you don't want to. That way the pub becomes Eliot's thing as the computers and high ceilings are Parker's and Hardison's. It would also organically tie him to the pair without any romance necessary and without it feeling like Eliot is doing this because he feels he doesn't have a choice

And all of this is all further compounded by the fact that the last few seasons are more focused on the couple's than anything else which is once again something Eliot is not part of. Whilst everyone's story is sacrificed for the show becoming Nate centric nobody else's is sacrificed so directly (in one instance Parker goes "Eliot" when asking for an important story and whilst Eliot looks hesitant Nate just barges in without even looking at him and without giving him a chance detailing how yeah his kid is dead and how you should all feel sad over it, basically being the asshole that he is directly at the cost of Eliot's character development and without Nate actually adding anything to his own character, so it was pointless). The only reason the others don't get that treatment is because Sophie is Nate's everything so she gets to be part of the more Nate centric storyline and then, because they are focusing on couples so they can include Sophie, they also extend that hand to Parker and Hardison. The only time that hand also gets extended to Eliot is when he is part of Parker's and Hardison's dynamic, I would honestly ask the question whether the show made him part of their relationship because they didn't know what else his character would be doing, without Leverage, and needed to justify his continued presence even when his, arguably, best friend left in a way that would make the fandom happy. Him being part of the ot3 implies he is just as important story wise as the other two

So yes, it is almost certainly a race thing (there are enough fanfics which just ignore Hardison in favour of the white characters to illustrate that) that but it is also going to be a reaction to people liking Eliot as their favourite character and seeing him sidelined until he is part of the ot3 which is really not great because he is still third wheeling. Sure they have a great dynamic and they can still be really close but I don't think Eliot wants everything with them and Parker and Hardison still care about each other first over him. He is the third wheel even in the relationship

why are you agasint the OT3?

*sighs* lol

I am not against them at all. I like them as a friend group. The dynamic is amazing that way BUT you’re living under a rock if you don’t think fandom racism influences how fandom has a need to fit the white male lead into everything romantically

because I promise you. IF Aldis hodge played Eliot and Christian kane was hardison you would not see the OT3 as a romantic pairing be so popular in fandom.

You’d have them do what fandom always does with the black sidekick--IE Oliver, Felicity and John Diggle from Arrow- The black character is “the supporter” the “lovable friend that is there to ship the main *white* couple but he would not be apart of the main ship as an equal part

So I am not *against* the OT3. I have watched Leverage from day one. but I have been in fandom long enough to know how subconscious racism plays a role in shipping

I have seen it far too often. Fandom will bend over backwards for the white male lead they find attractive.

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bdo-sky-rp · 5 years ago

Text

Lemoria Guard Post

Thelurion waited for the camp’s Quartermaster to arrange for the supplies he had asked for, though there was a traveler ahead of him that needed tending to. Patiently, he folded his arms and leaned lightly against the pillar of the tent, observing the said travelers with scrutinizing eyes. He would ride in the middle of the night and would rather not linger longer than needed.

Walking up the path that curved its way through the Guard Post, Sky’s light footfalls vaguely registered upon the soft soil, the faint clink of the metal cuffs and glass beads in his braids accompanying the ever so slight scrape of his armor. He happened to glance up as he passed the Quartermaster’s station and caught sight of a familiar face, causing him to pause in his steps.

Whether through instinct or simple the notice through trained hearing the ceasing of steps coming to a halt on the pathway causes him to turn his head. His usual serious face turns into one of surprise, raising fuzzy eyebrows as he sets glimmering sapphire hues on Sky, “Y-you…?” looking surprised, he offered the other a slight wave.

Sky’s calm, quiet visage seemed to hold an equal measure of amazement at the strange happenstance of seeing the other hunter there. He offers a small nod in return to the wave and moves to approach Thelurion, “Fair winds.” he greeted.

“H-hm…” Thelurion offered a nod and wished the greeting in return. He eyed the other up and down… this outfit was a different look for the other Elf than what he had first seen him in… and then just as thoroughly as his eyes scrutinized the man, he’d look directly at Sky in adamant inquisition, curious as to the attire, “That’s different… Not that I would know… we have not met many times.” He’d bring a hand to scratch at the side of his cheek while looking away briefly, that same hand going to his bowstring to caress it in comfort.

Sky paused to glance down at himself, wondering if he looked as out of place in it as he felt wearing it. “Ah… I was on a hunt for poachers… opted for something with more protection than my simple leathers….” His jade hues shifted back towards the other, “...it is good to see you well.”

Thelurion pondered his words then nodded slowly in understanding his choice of garments now… a slight side smile on his features, having met the other before and interacted with him caused his guard to not be as strict and unbending. A friendly expression, even if distant, manifested, ”Considering you’ve been fighting poachers… I should be the one to say it.” he’d gesture to the other, “Did you get them? They can be crafty, these hunters… even if they know not the lay of the land….”

Sky’s expression shifted into a thoughtful one, arms crossing, “We received word Poachers were finding a means into Kamasylvia without crossing the borders… we discovered a human mage has been porting them in. There were eleven of them we hunted down but unfortunately… two escaped…. The hunt resumes on the marrow.” He shook his head lightly, “Ill winds.... There were many things unnatural and toxic about the magic used.

Thelurion blinked for there was a group of Poachers he had seen odd things and whose appearance left a strange sensation to the air… he’d curiously ask, “Did you come by these yourself…?”

A genuine question, his expression one of someone who knew of something about this phenomenon, “I cam by the same thing the other day, while surveying a location for a mage of Grana. I didn’t know him for very long but he seemed interested in this location… A strange air and melody lingered there… Maybe they were the same.”

He’d side smile wider, “Seems like that strange man is on Kamasylvia’s side after all…” an idle remark, more to himself than to Sky.

Sky’s shoulders bobbed lightly, “I was sent as back up after the initial party made contact with the intruders. Once we closed the portal, there was a strange voice on the wind… I suppose this must be the Wizard you speak of.” He looked contemplative a moment, “Interesting.”

Thelurion gave a shrug, “Who knows… he’s an enigmatic one. Maybe it’s not even related… I will definitely keep my eyes open and ears attentive… Maybe even send word again if I find more.”

He had let go of the bowstring, showing his mind was at ease, “Wish I had been there. Sounds like quite the endeavor!” a boyish expression as the young man looked at the other with keen interest on how the battle unfolded… and then quickly composed himself to try to look cool.

“I-I mean…” he’d lean against the pillar once again, “Hope it all went well….” he said, folding his arms.

Sky noted the spark of youth that arose in the other and for a moment, felt a rare smile curl the corner of his lips briefly even as Thelurion hastily masked his enthusiasm. He merely nodded, remarking, “It was a swift skirmish with a favorable outcome. We lived, the didn’t and Kama remains better off without their ilk poisoning her soil.”

Thelurion closed his eyes, keeping a slight side smile at the lack of details while he listened. “As it should be.” he’d remark.

His curiosity returned and he’d ask, “So where are you heading off towards then in that gear? Beyond this is not Kamasylvia… I’d have thought you’d be walking the complete opposite direction.” He’d look directly at the other inquisitively.

A hand had settled upon his hip, his own attention resting on the other as he spoke his inquiry, “The Poachers left behind a strange object in the shape of a beetle… the theory is that it is somehow linked to how they are able to travel so freely into Kamasylvia. We were instructed to journey to Behr to find out more if we can. These Poachers seemed to have been blessed with some sort of enchantment upon their gear as well. Perhaps we will learn more of these intruders in the town, Such is the hope, at any rate.”

“Ah, I wish I could come…” Thelurion remarked in an exasperated, exhaling tone… not only had he not been invited but he had also promised his efforts somewhere else the next few days.

“...Such is the way of Fate…” his tone became a bit more somber for perhaps this was the Goddess’ doing, yet another sign of distaste towards him. His arms uncrossing and returning respective fingers to the bowstring.

His gaze settled on the Quartermaster, seeing her prepare his own supplies now. His smile had but faded, returning to that serious expression of his. Jaw tensing, he’d then turn his adamant attention to the other Elf, “Well, be of luck in this hunt… that you find quarry without qualm.”

Sky nodded, jade orbs holding the other’s sapphire gaze, “Appreciated… and worry not. You will get your chance to come to the motherland's aid. In these times, sadly there is no shortage of work to be done to ensure it’s protected.” he reassured.

Noting the Quartermaster, he offered her a light nod in acknowledgment as she passed them a glance before returning his attention to the younger elf beside him, “And so our paths part here… for now. Travel with caution and may fortune favor you in your travels, Thelurion.”

Thelurion nods, “Of that, I know. I make way to the Archer Guard Post as soon as she’s done with my supplies….” he’d point at the Quartermaster. “Mayhap it is but necessary that I must prove to be worthy of Kamasylve’s trust and undertake its caretaking as best as I can while making up for lost time.”

He’d then offer the other a nod as he spoke his goodbyes, “May fortune accompany you too, Sky.” He’d extend the arm for the other, a custom from outside Kamasylvia he had caught up on. A bright smile as he looked at the other graced his features, “Give the Blessed Forest’s enemies enough trouble for the both of us….”

It seemed Sky same across this strange custom often as the other extended a hand towards him. Luckily this time, he avoided the awkwardness by having a bit more of an idea as to what to do with the gesture. He clasped the others hand and nodded, once more the faintest hint of a rare smile touching his shapely lips, “They will rue their misdeeds.” he promised and turned to depart, offering a light wave behind him as he set off down the ramp.

#IC happenings #short story #Thelurion

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banjodanger · 4 years ago

Text

Deadpool(2016) The Thoughts That Come Before The Movie

What became Fox’s most successful movie had to be forced into existence.

Though a Deadpool movie had been discussed among Fox ever since the success of the first X-Men movie, production actually ramped up after Origins due to a strong first weekend at the box office. Let it be known reviews and final performance take an absolute backseat to those sweet, sweet first weekend profits. Movies take close to ninety percent of profits that first weekend. which should explain two things. One, your local multiplex is charging eleven dollars for a pretzel because ushers don’t work for free, and two, this is why legitimately bad movies suddenly get franchises. Consider every DC attempt at a connected cinematic multiverse.

At this point, a lot of people would make a Green Lantern joke. I’m not going to, so clearly I have Very Important Thoughts and should be Trusted Implicitly.

Origins was joked at the time but mostly seen as a misstep, but Green Lantern was toxic. Production was delayed and probably would have been indefinitely if not for some fortuitously leaked footage. Popular conspiracy is that Reynolds himself leaked the footage to get interest in the film back up, and if it was he made the right call. The movie went from development hell to greenlight almost as soon as the footage went viral. Not only was it one of the highest grossing X-Men movies, it was one of the highest grossing R-rated movies ever. According to Wikipedia, it’s still in the top three.

All this is wildly successful for a movie that is, ultimately, another entry in the much derided origin-story. A lot of this movie concerns a reluctant hero finding their superhero identity, a romantic lead turned damsel-in-distress(which is a pretty severe misuse of Morena Baccarin’s talent), and the discovery of extraordinary abilities. Most people didn’t notice, however, because the movie employs something most X-Men movies have in short supply, humor.

This isn’t to say the other movies don’t have moments of levity both intended(Michael Fassbender’s reaction to seeing Apocalypse for the first time) and unintended(hiring Brett Ratner to direct) but that’s all they amount to, brief moments of levity in what are meant to be overall serious movies. The X-Men movies never completely lost the overly serious tone they took in the wake of Batman&Robin and other superhero movies that concentrated more on toylines than plotlines. Deadpool put the humor front and center and was one of the major draws, apart from Ryan Reynolds doing one of the few welcome method performances probably ever.

Fuck Marlon Brando.

I always talk about something problematic with these movies and this movie is going to get the same treatment. However, it’s a little different with Deadpool. The problemetic aspect doesn’t come from the movie so much as a crowd that has embraced the character. Deadpool was increasing in popularity before the movie but he’s exploded in the years since. And that popularity has led to him being embraced by people who fundamentally misunderstand the character. The people who walk down the street wearing a certain shirt and you want to stop them because you just KNOW they don’t understand that thing.Yes, the scourge of comic fans everywhere....

Edgelords.

Yea, the “why are you mad, I’m only joking” crowd. The guys that would hurl F-slurs in high school and wave it off with “I’m not talking about gay people, just stupid people.” People like this have attached themselves to the Deadpool aesthetic like a remora. I’ve pushed for people to be open to the idea that true page-to-screen adaptations aren’t realistic but this is one of the holdouts. Deadpool in the comics is, first of all, pan. Duggan, a writer on Deadpool for three years described as being attracted to “anything with a pulse,” and while we can deabte the oversimplication seperately, that’s not heterosexual. Second, and possibly even more important, Deadpool is a very authentic figure. He loves the things he loves unironically. Deadpool is irreverant and very bloodthirsty but he is not the toxic figure that many fans have turned the Joker into.

The pansexuality didn’t really make it to screen apart from the International Women’s day gag. He flirts with Colossus but it’s intentionally vague if he’s serious or just making the uptight character uncomfortable. The joy is on full display, from his earnest discussions of Wham! and Bernadette Peters to his date with Vanessa at an arcade, Wade is irreverent and sarcastic without ever falling into detached irony.

I’d be remiss if I was on a discussion of problematic shit and I didn’t mention TJ Miller. His behavior was becoming public knowledge around the release of this film, and by the sequel it was a looming point of discussion. I’ll use that timeline to discuss him in a little more detail when that movie comes up, but there were already discussions by the time of his first big incident about nine months after the release of this.

Hopefully it’s not too much of a distraction because Deadpool deserves it’s ranking as one of the best things to come out of the Fox universe. There’s a wealth of reasons why Disney is willing to risk a R-Rated property in the MCU and why he’s one of the few characters being considered for a crossover. I’m excited to finally sit down to watch this one.

Budget: $58 million

Opening Weekend: $132 million

US Gross: $363 Million

Worldwide: $782 Million

#deadpool #fox xmen #fox x men #x men movies #x men films #deadpool film #ryan reynolds

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brucebaxter · 4 years ago

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#Do Losing Weight Increase Your Height Stunning Cool Ideas #How To Get Taller After 21

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