#had to change the a to 4 it looked so fucking odd otherwise

[fairytaleendingss]

Room for One More?

Chapter 4

Summary: Your heating system breaks and you and the boys have to come up with an unconventional way to combat the cold.

CW: Description/Talk of Chronic Illness, swearing.

Pairing: Poly!Marauders x fem!reader

Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3

Hey everyone! Thanks so much to all of you who have been reading and following along!

I just want to preface this chapter by saying that I am not a doctor nor do I have any personal experience with RA. I have done some research on it but I am definitely not an expert on the condition and I apologize for any inaccuracies that may be present in this story

My goal was to include a condition that mimicked symptoms of Remus' lycanthropy as I feel that is an important part of his character and I wanted to make reference to that. But if anyone reading who has more experience in this area has noticed anything they'd like changed or corrected, feel free to reach out and let me know :).

Otherwise, enjoy the chapter!

--

"Ah, fuck! Damnit!"

You jolted awake at the sound of a crash coming from the kitchen and a slew of curses that followed. A quick glance at your clock on your bedside table told you it was nearing 2am.

Everyone should've been long asleep by now in your apartment but that didn't always mean they were. You'd grown accustomed over the last few weeks to being woken up at odd hours by your noisy roommates watching international sporting matches on TV or attempting to cook an unnecessarily complicated late night snack.

This voice, however, you were not particularly used to hearing at this time of night.

You rolled out of bed, pulling on a robe as the harsh winter air hit you. You reminded yourself to ask Sirius about the heating in the morning.

Then you tiptoed out in the hall, a light flutter of concern in your stomach, to see what all the fuss was about.

You peaked around the corner to see a pajama clad Remus, leaning against the kitchen counter, a hand pressed into his forehead and eyes clamped shut in frustration. There was a wheat bag discarded on the kitchen floor beside him.

You approached cautiously, like you were approaching a wild animal. Then you cleared your throat lightly so as not to startle him.

He looked up, hurriedly trying to regain his composure.

"S-sorry, I didn't mean to wake you," he muttered bashfully, as if he was a child who'd been caught sneaking cookies after bedtime.

"It's fine," you gave him a tight lipped smile. "Is everything okay?"

He huffed and rolled his eyes, only this time you could tell that his frustrations weren't directed towards you.

"Yeah, I just have this... thing." He stumbled over his wording, clearly embarrassed about whatever was going on. "It's called RA. It's a type of arthritis. The symptoms get worse in the cold weather. I was just trying to heat up my pack but my fingers aren't working properly."

Your brows furrowed as a jolt of sympathy washed over you. It was no secret that you and Remus didn't have the most friendly of relationships but you still felt for him nonetheless.

"Well, here," you said gently as you moved towards him. "Let me help."

You lifted the wheat bag from the floor and placed it into the microwave. You expected some form of protest from the man beside you but were surprised when he stepped aside in compliance.

"Thank you," he muttered distantly. You expected that on another occasioned he may have rejected the assistance, especially from you. From what you knew of Remus, he was headstrong and independent, almost to a fault. However, tonight you could tell he was exhausted and probably in a lot of pain.

He leaned back on the counter as the microwave began to turn and a low humming filled the room. In the low light, you could make out the lines of his face and the dark circles beneath his eyes. He looked slightly older than 23, you observed.

It seemed as thought the stressed of life had worn him down. Yet even at 2am with his hair crumpled from sleep and his eyes weary, he was still devastatingly handsome.

"If it's not out of turn to ask, how long has this been going on?"

"A while, since I was a teenager, at least. Maybe before that. I was diagnosed at 16 but I've had some level of aches and pains as long as I can remember."

You grimaced. "I'm sorry. That must have made things hard for you."

He shrugged in response. “It’s okay usually. I mean, I can deal with it most of the time. It’s just when I have these flare ups that it becomes a problem.”

“You’ve never mentioned it before.”

He sighed. “I don’t like to make an ordeal out of it if I can avoid it.”

You could tell from the look in his eyes that he was uncomfortable. You assumed he didn’t bring it up on purpose so as to not seem weak or needy.

“Well I hope you feel better soon,” you told him gently.

The microwave beeped and you removed the heat pack. You’re fingers brushed as you passed it too him.

“Thank you, really.”

He gave you a small smile which you couldn’t help but return.

“Don’t mention it.”

Going back to bed, you felt a little lighter. Things were far from perfect in your relationship with Remus but tonight had felt like progress. Who knows, maybe you were finally on the verge of a breakthrough with him.

Maybe soon you’d actually be able to become friends.

The thought comforted you as you drifted back off to sleep.

—

Stepping out of bed in the morning felt like stepping straight into a freezer. You shivered immediately and put your robe on. When that still wasn't enough to shield you from the cold, you pulled your fluffy blanket off the end of the bed before waddling out into the living room looking like a medieval peasant.

"Yep, this thing's buggered," you heard Sirius say as you stepped out into the living area.

"What's buggered?"

He looked up at you from where he was crouched in the corner of the room.

"The radiator," he replied, tapping it with his knuckle. "I'll call the landlord about it but he's a right git so It might be some time before he bothers to get it looked at."

"Well, I suppose we'll all just have to freeze to death then," James teased. "What a shame. I was really looking forward to New Years."

"You'd probably hold out a little longer if you ever bothered to put a shirt on," Remus deadpanned from his spot on the sofa. He was half listening to the conversation while also clearly immersed in a book.

James was standing in the kitchen pouring himself a bowl of cereal, his bare chest on display, showing off his perfectly chiseled abs.

"Oh come on Remus. Admit it, you know you love the view."

He sent his friend a wink as he rounded the counter and came to flop down beside him on the couch. He was met with an eyeroll in response.

"Sorry to interrupt the fun," you murmured. "But seriously, what are we going to do about the heating? I'm freezing."

Sirius stood up, looking at you with a mischievous twinkle in his eye. "Well, you know, we could always cuddle for warmth."

"Ha-ha. Very funny Sirius," you scoffed but the suggestion had James sitting up straight, coming very close to sloshing his bowl of cereal all over his lap.

"You know that's not actually such a bad idea!"

You raised a brow at him. "You can't be serious."

"I'm not Sirius, actually, I'm James," he teased. "But I'm not joking about this idea! We all have the day off today don't we? Why don't we all grab our bedspreads and we can huddle up on the couch and spend the day watching Christmas movies!"

His eyes were bright like a little kid's and you couldn't help but smile in return.

"Okay. That sounds like fun."

"Hey, it'll be like those sleepovers we had at your Mum's place back in high-school!" Sirius exclaimed.

"What about you, Rem?" he turned to his friend. "You in?"

The boy looked between the three of you for a moment as if considering the offer.

"I really should be studying today."

James groaned, clapping him on the shoulder. "Come on! It'll be fun."

He stood up, closing his book and began to retreat down the hallway.

"Sorry, guys. I can't today. You all enjoy though."

With that he was gone, the door of his bedroom falling shut behind him.

James sighed but it was quickly replaced by his usual lopsided smile. "Oh well! Let's get going then."

--

It wasn't long after when you found yourself situated on the couch beside Sirius, with James on his other side, practically swaddled in blankets. James had made you all teas and a large array of snacks were splayed out on the coffee table, however, none of you were willing to poke a hand out of your cocoon to reach for them.

You all decided to start with Elf (which James had suggested as his favourite Christmas film) and work your way through the list of classics.

Laughter emitted through the air as you watched Buddy the Elf discover New York city. However, you noticed the way that Sirius glanced down the hall towards Remus' closed door every so often, as if he was disappointed that Remus wasn't there to enjoy the fun with you.

You couldn't help but feel slightly guilty at the situation. You felt responsible for Remus choosing not to spend the day with his two best friends. You were sure if it wasn't for your participation he wouldn't have hesitated to agree to the day's events.

You had thought that last night had been progress but now you weren't so sure. Remus, for whatever reason, still hadn't warmed up to you, despite not knowing what you did to warrant his reaction and all the attempts you'd made at a peace offering. Whatever it was, it was starting to really frustrate you.

You tried to wipe the thought from your mind as the movie progressed, instead enjoying the time with the two boys you did get along with.

By the time the end credits were rolling, you'd almost forgotten all about your plight with Remus and were just enjoying the laughter that rang through the air at some of the commentary Sirius had made throughout the film.

"Alright! What's next on the list?" James called, leaning forward to grab the remote.

“I vote Home Alone!” You chimed in.

Sirius sent you an odd look. “What? Home Alone isn’t a Christmas movie.”

James gasped and you flashed him a dramatic look of mock offence.

“Yes it absolutely is!” James argued.

“Yeah, the best one at that,” you declared.

“No it’s not! It’s just a movie that happens to be set at Christmas time. That doesn’t make it a Christmas movie!”

You rolled your eyes. “Sirius, that’s literally the entire criteria for what a Christmas movie is.”

James shook his head at his friend. “Yeah! Next you’ll be claiming that Die Hard isn’t a Christmas movie either!”

Sirius looked at him with a deadpan expression. “It’s not.”

James put a hand on his chest and pretended to faint at the notion.

“How dare you! Die Hard is a fabulous Christmas movie!”

“Okay, now you’ve gone too far!”

Sirius threw his hands up in surrender. “Okay okay, fine. Let’s watch Home Alone.”

You smiled at him. “Good, I knew you’d come to your senses.”

James chucked in response as he put the movie.

You nestled down into your blanket nest, feeling a shiver run through you as the opening credits began.

“Are you cold, love?” Sirius leaned down, almost whispering the words into your ear.

“Just a little,” you mumbled. “But really it’s fine.”

“Well that won’t do!” He shook his head playfully. “Here!”

He stood up from the sofa, gesturing for you to shuffle over. When you did, he sat back down on your other side, slinging an arm around your shoulders. James, who was now to your right, pulled your curled up knees into his lap so that you were sandwiched between the two boys.

You felt your face heat up as you sat there, surrounded by their gentle embrace. You hoped they were too distracted with the movie to notice the way your pulse began to climb.

“Feeling better now?” Sirius murmured into your hair. A chill ran up your spine but this one you knew wasn’t from the cold.

“Much,” you murmured nestling your head back against his warm chest.

You felt it rumble as he let out a chuckle, rubbing and hand up and down your arm soothingly.

—

About halfway through the film, you were interrupted by the sound of a door swinging open. Three sets of eyes looked up to see Remus shuffling rather bashfully into the room.

He was dressed in a large knitted jumper and long brown pants but even under all the layers, he was visibly shivering. You weren’t surprised. Those bedrooms were like ice boxes.

“Do you mind if I join you?” He asked quietly, scratching the back of his neck.

You smirked in response.

“Hmm, sorry. I'm not sure of there's any room left,” Sirius teased.

“Come on, Sirius, don’t be mean. He looks freezing!” James exclaimed, lifting up the blanket and gesturing Remus to join you under it.

Sirius rolled his eyes.

“I’m just kidding. Of course you can join. Here, sit, I’ll make you a tea.”

Sirius stood up abruptly, heading into the kitchen and opening a space beside you for Remus on the couch.

He looked hesitant at first, as if he wasn’t sure if you would want him with you, but you gave him a small smile and lifted up your blanket.

He sat down then, sighing as he nestled under the warm covers and you splayed the bed-spread over his lap.

Sirius returned moments later with fresh cups of tea for the four of you and plonked himself down beside Remus. You noticed the way the taller boy leaned into him, almost as if they were unconsciously pulled towards each other.

Sirius reached out a hand and softly rubbed the other boy’s knee. You raked your eyes away from the scene focusing back onto the movie. But every so often you couldn’t help but watched the way they drew together, like they were puzzle pieces perfectly made to fit into each others embrace.

It made you feel odd, and you didn’t quite know why. You had no reason to be jealous and you weren’t even fully sure who there was to be jealous of. But the feeling in your stomach had become all too familiar over the recent weeks.

You moved closer to James, snuggling in to his side.

—

Several hours, and four movies later, the sun had faded outside over the horizon. The room had become dark, the only light coming from the flickering TV screen as the Polar Express played.

Sirius sat up to stretch and looked around. It was then that he noticed you and James, fast asleep, your head leaning against his chest and one of his arms thrown lazily over your shoulder.

His glasses were askew and your cheek was smushed against the front of his t-shirt, hair falling across your face.

A smirk blossomed on Sirius’s lips at the sight and he gently nudged Remus in the ribs and gestured towards the two of you.

He raised a brow. “They look… uh, comfortable.”

Sirius chuckled. “That they do.”

He stood up from the couch, shedding his blanket and pulling his phone from his pocket to take a snapshot of the two of you, which he definitely intended to send to your friends.

“Leave them be,” Remus chided, grasping the boy by the arm and pulling him back down onto the couch.

“What? It’s cute. And it will be perfect blackmail material. It’s a win win.”

Remus rolled his eyes. “You’re cruel. You know that?”

“I’m wonderful, thank you very much.”

Remus shook his head fondly. Then he glanced over again as you shifted in your sleep. Without thinking, he leaned over and tugged the blanket up where it had fallen off your shoulder.

Then he sat back, nestling back into Sirius’ side. The other boy raised a brow at the display but chose to say nothing as he wrapped an arm around his friend and let the movie continue.

—

Taglist:

@hisparentsgallerryy

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@shushbruv

@magicwithaknife

@eeviee4

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@ilovesugurugeto69

[rei-ismyname]

The X-Men vs X-Men Beef feels inorganic

From The Ashes has begun in earnest, and we're being told that the Uncanny X-Men have irreconcilable problems with Cyclops' X-Men. However, we're not really being shown that. Spoilers for all From The Ashes books released so far.

We've had 3 issues of X-Men and 2 of Uncanny X-Men so far, plus answers promised for why Wolverine doesn't want to be one in the first issue of his solo (the reason is trauma, it turns out but he's still wearing his uniform ten pages in. Not especially satisfying.) From The Ashes (henceforth FTA) has had a scattershot approach to plotting so far, but one unifying theme has been that mutants in general are a scattered diaspora as well as interpersonal issues that I'm just not seeing.

Here's Gail at the end of Uncanny X-Men #1.

Let's break this down a bit. 'Recovering from grief' absolutely makes sense. They lost Krakoa only months ago and different people deal with that in different ways. Except Rogue seems pretty happy tbh, aside from select moments when the Big Picture is being discussed. The rest of the time she's talking loudly about sex and generally seems in high spirits.

'Rogue and Cyclops has replaced the relationship between Xavier and Magneto.' For one, that relationship has been a close one for years at this point. Secondly, I'm not buying that at all because it's not on the page.

They seem to be on great terms here, working together for mutual goals. Zero animosity. Friends, family, obviously. Why wouldn't they be? This is issue 1.

This is issue 2, like 6 hours later in universe. The Jubilee comment confirms they're sharing information, and Scott's team are very publicly being X-Men. The reader doesn't have perfect information here, but obviously these kids have said something that spurs Rogue into action immediately, fuck Scott/Hank/everyone else's plans.

Here's the moment just before the call. 'Last guy I want to talk to.' What the hell is that about? It's very at odds with either phone call, which were friendly and collaborative. As you'd think they'd be, you know having been family for decades now.

'Are there even going to be X-Men anymore?' You know there are, you're working with them. 'We almost had Xavier's 'dream'. No, you didn't. You had a nation, and it was great. It was the opposite of The Dream, because the Dream is solving bigotry. You should all know this by now. Also, aren't you all super mad at Chuck for his war crimes? I know Wolverine tried to kill him a few months ago - is he over that?

They discuss heading up to join Cyclops, in the former sentinel factory given as part of a settlement for six months of torture and being readied for a Kangaroo court and execution - you were all there for that. 'Imagine a community run by Scott Summers... I ain't going back there, it ain't the X-Men...'

Dude, you've been living with him, Jean and their family for the past 4 years in a polycule. Why are you talking like you're Schism era Wolverine? Your beef is ancient history, you're family. He definitely wasn't 'everywhere you turn' when you were banging his wife. Y'all are about to go break into a government sanctioned prison to retrieve your war criminal mentor that one of you tried to kill very recently - so I'm not seeing a difference in methodology or ideology. In fact you're doing that and he's compromising his team's plans around you!

Here's Scott's side of that conversation. Looks like she hung up on him for some reason, but this dude is being polite and trying to collaborate with his peers. When he gets hung up on and ignored he changes his plans, with the primary concern being everyone's safety. There's nothing in any of these issues indicating otherwise, aside from Logan shooting down anything to do with Scott and Gail Simone kinda saying so in editorial.

So why is this conflict happening? Logan has been running naked with wolves since Krakoa (despite being in ten different books) so there's been no opportunity for an incident. Everyone else is talking like they're friends. Sure, there's the grief and trauma, but everyone is making 'back to work' choices. I'm definitely not seeing an ideological divide, just being told that in editorial.

Even Kitty Pryde is telling everyone to fuck off, except we know she's in Exceptional X-Men on a team. Little hard to believe she'd turn away from all her family, except Emma Frost. Their relationship was in a good place on Krakoa, but why a team with her and refuse to even see anyone else?

It's really not that hard to give characters goals and beliefs, and ideas on the best way to achieve them. At the moment it just feels like they're apart because writers/editorial want them to be, while giving us the kind of disagreements teenagers would get over quickly. I'm not feeling it as a good start to FTA, and the implication that 'we're the X-Men now' implies Scott's team isn't. We've been here before, idiot plots leading to needless divides amongst a people in severe crisis. I have to ask - is that really the best Marvel can do?

I really want to like or even love this reboot, but nostalgia and forced conflict is the definition of old hat. There's so many ways to use nostalgia in fresh ways, but this isnt it. Worse, I'm being told otherwise. I know you don't hire Tom Brevoort as editor to take risks, so I'm really hoping this is just a slow start with everyone finding their feet.

I've definitely noticed that Magneto has been sitting in a chair doing nothing for 3 issues too. I want to know how his ideological awakening is going to be paid off, and I'm wary it's just going to be ignored. I'll be coming back to this topic when there's actually something to talk about, and perhaps foolishly being cautiously optimistic.

Maybe this kind of stuff isn't for everyone, but at least make it make sense, yo. How are you finding it? What are you loving? What are you looking forward to? I'd love to hear.

[goddess-aelin]

Feels Like Home

For @backtobl4ck for the Rowaelin Yulemas celebration/ Secret Santa. For the second year in a row, I once again had the pleasure to write something for Maria! I was so excited when I found out I had you because we both loveeeee fluff and friends to lovers. So I hope you love this little gift and have a very happy Yulemas :) @rowaelinscourt

Masterlist

Word Count: 4k

Warnings: none!

Her hands were everywhere. Her lips touched his softly as she breathily moaned at his ministrations between her thighs. Silky blonde locks brushed his face as he made his way down the side of her neck. He never tasted anything so sweet, so right. “Rowan. Rowan. Rowan.” Her voice got louder and louder as he laid her back on the cushions of his couch, muscles straining to reign in all the things he wanted to do to her. He had to do this right. Move slowly. This thing between them was as precious as the sun’s warmth. “Rowan. Ro.” Her voice changed cadence, suddenly closer and louder. “Ro!” 

A stinging sensation against his cheek woke him. Like lighting, he shot up, catching the arm of the person who slapped him. Once he registered where he was and what was happening, the first thing he noticed were the depthless blue and gold eyes of his best friend. His best friend. Aelin. Who he was in the middle of having a sex dream about.

Rowan could feel his face flush as he became more aware of his surroundings. He silently thanked the Gods that he chose to cover himself with a blanket for this particular nap. Otherwise, it would’ve been painfully obvious just exactly what he had been dreaming about. 

“Must’ve been some dream, huh? Since you didn’t wake up the first twenty times I called your name.” Aelin raised an eyebrow. “Sorry for the slap, though. I just didn’t know how else to wake you up.” Aelin gave him a devious smile. 

Rowan rubbed at the still stinging area on his left cheek. The good thing was that the slap hid any blush that might’ve remained on his face. “Sure you are, Fireheart.” She pouted slightly, giving him her best “but I’m innocent” look. “Wait, how did you even get in here?”

“You gave me a key, remember?”

“Yeah, for emergencies. Not to barge into my house at…” He checked his phone. “4:35pm on a Thursday afternoon.”

“This is an emergency, Ro.” 

He raised an eyebrow and silently commanded, explain.

“Well ok…you see, I have this cousin. His name is Galan. Well he’s sort of my cousin but he’s also not. Not in the sense that Aedion is my cousin. But he’s still sort of close family, ya know? And I got the invite a few weeks back and I hoped that I could find a date but I haven’t yet and I just really think that maybe it would be a fun time and there’s going to be good food-”

“Hold on. What the fuck are you talking about?” Rowan couldn’t keep the humor and huff of laughter out of his voice. Aelin tended to ramble when she was nervous. So obviously this was something she was nervous about. He gently took her hand. “Start again and take a deep breath this time.”

For once, she listened to him. After inhaling and exhaling deeply, she tried again. “My cousin, Galan. He’s getting married and I have a plus one. I can’t go alone because my mother will have a fit and that will make her and my aunts scheme like hell to set me up with one of the groomsmen. But I 100% do not want that. I know Galan’s friends and they’re all dumbasses. I love my cousin, but his groomsmen all make really stupid, idiotic decisions. So no, thank you. So I guess my question is, will you go with me? As my plus one?” 

Rowan took a moment to process the information. What are the odds that he would have a sex dream about his best friend right before she asked him to be her plus one to a wedding? He was treading dangerous territory and he wasn’t sure what to make of it.

He must’ve taken too long to answer because Aelin hastily said, “As friends, of course. And you’d get free food, booze, and a night of dancing. You get to dress up, which I know you hate but it’ll be fun! Plus, you’ll get to have the most beautiful, amazing, graceful date on your arm.” 

That shocked him out of his stupor. Rowan let out a cackle. “Modest, aren’t you?” 

“Modesty is my middle name.” 

Rowan hummed in mock agreement. “Yeah, I’ll go with you. It’ll be fun. A night away, drinking, eating great food, and getting to watch the bridal party get increasingly drunk as the night goes on? I’m in.” 

Aelin beamed but quickly bit her lip. He knew her too well to know that it wasn’t just a nervous tick. There was something else. Rowan narrowed his eyes.

“It’s also like five hours away in Varese so we need to rent a hotel for the night.” She looked apprehensive, as if this new information was going to make him change his mind and say no. 

“O..kay? We’ve been on vacations together before, Fireheart. What’s different this time?” 

She blew out a breath. “I don’t know. I just know you don’t like being the center of attention and I know that my mom and my aunts are going to be all over you like vultures. So I just want to make sure you know what you’re getting into before saying yes.”

Rowan shrugged. “How bad can it be?”

- - - - -

Bad. The answer to his question from a few weeks ago was just that: it could be bad.  The date of the wedding crept up steadily, he and Aelin hammering out the details of their stay in Varese. Aelin, of course, insisted on coordinating colors for their outfits, which is how he found himself standing at the base of the stairs in the grand ballroom attached to their hotel in a black tux and emerald green bowtie, talking with Aedion while waiting for the two ladies to make their grand entrance. Aelin insisted on the emerald green to match his eyes. He really didn’t care either way, he just hoped he was able to reign in his budding feelings when he saw Aelin in what just so happened to be his favorite color. And that if he somehow did accidentally let some of his feelings show, that it wouldn’t make it awkward for when they got back to their hotel room.

Oh right, that. The other predicament he was in. 

Once he and Aelin arrived at the hotel that morning, they were surprised to find that not only did their room only have one bed, it also had one of the most romantic views of Varese, overlooking the river that flowed through the center of the city and its beautiful architecture. Aelin was quick to insist that she had nothing to do with this and that she ordered a double room. At the time, the wedding was only a few hours away and Aelin shoved him out of their room towards Aedion and Lysandra’s across the hall, stating that she needed to get ready and she couldn’t have his broody self in the room while she was doing so. So he and Lysandra had switched places, Aelin assuring him that they’d remedy the bed situation later. 

He and Aedion took a whopping total of ten minutes to get ready in comparison to Aelin and Lysandra’s two hours. Rowan’s foot started tapping of its own accord as the time ticked closer to the ceremony. If Aelin didn’t hurry her ass up- albeit her very, very nice ass- they were going to be late. 

He was cut off from his thoughts by the two sets of clacking heels on the marbled floor coming from the top of the stairs. It took one look at the thigh slit of Aelin’s dress for his mouth to dry up. Another glance at the way it hugged her hips for his body to go wholly still. And one final glance to her beautiful, glowing face for him to black out completely. 

He must’ve actually blacked out since, in what felt like a single moment, Aelin was standing right in front of him. Her emerald green dress matched his bowtie perfectly, of course, the gold accent of her minimal jewelry complimenting her eyes. She didn’t need baubles and gems to make her sparkle. She, just as she was now, was an ethereal being, glowing from an internal, unseen star. 

Rowan tried so hard; so, so, incredibly hard to will his mind to say something, anything. And yet, words escaped him. How could he ever put into words how beautiful she was, how much she meant to him? As saliva started making its way into the dry desert that was his mouth, all he could manage was a “Holy shit.”

Aelin’s laugh was like twinkling bells in his ear. “Back at ya, Buzzard. You look…very handsome.”

Was it just his imagination or did she sound…breathless? He couldn’t help but become aware of every place her eyes drifted to, like they were emitting invisible fire and burning him everywhere. His hand subconsciously came up to rub at the back of his hair, trying to smooth out anything that was out of place. “You’re being sarcastic, aren’t you?” He managed a small smirk. Or, he hoped he did.

Aelin’s eyes continued their unhurried perusal, mouth parting slightly and hand coming up to grab his own to stop him from messing up his hair even more. “No,” she breathed, “For once in my life, I’m not. I Promise.” Rowan could see her swallow hard.

Rowan had to take a deep gulp of air, otherwise he was sure he was going to pass out. Somewhere, deep inside of him, some air of confidence kicked in and gracefully allowed him to offer his arm for Aelin to take. Gently, she placed her hand in the crook of his elbow, both of them silently making their way to the doors where the ceremony would be held. As they neared the room, Rowan purposefully slowed them down, falling behind Aedion and Lysandra. “Fireheart,” he whispered. “You look…you look stunning. It’s what I wanted to say earlier but I couldn’t find the words.”

Rowan could have sworn a blush overtook her face. But she beamed up at him, giving him a sweet, shy smile. 

“Thank you.” He could feel more than see her sharp intake of breath. A breath to recenter and refocus. “Well, shall we, Buzzard?” Rowan nodded and steered them once again to the doors.  

An hour later, the ceremony was over and Rowan’s stomach was rumbling. Loudly. Seated next to Aelin, he knew she could hear it and she continued to sneak glances and little smirks at him. The hunger he could deal with. The sly glances from Aelin? Not so much. She had been driving him insane since she floated down those stairs and it was slowly but surely causing him to lose his cool. That would be if he ever had it in the first place.

And as the night went on, the torture only continued. Throughout dinner, her arm would brush his as she turned to talk to Lysandra next to her, her leg would tap against his own when she told a joke, and she would find any excuse to touch him as often as she could. In normal circumstances, he wouldn’t mind. But they were here as friends. And these touches were making him want much, much more than that. 

The only time he felt like he could breathe was when Aelin got up to dance with Lysandra to an upbeat pop song, leaving Rowan and Aedion sitting alone at their table to chat. Rowan had a few drinks already but he was nowhere near drunk. A nice buzz was flowing through him but he was still very much so in control of his actions.

At least, that’s what he thought until Aedion cleared his throat. Rowan broke his stare from Aelin’s sensuous dancing. Did she even know what she looked like to him? How much she was torturing him just by being herself? He wasn’t sure if she was aware. But Aedion sure as hell was. 

The blonde man gave him a knowing look and raised an eyebrow. Rowan just rolled his eyes and allowed his gaze to maneuver back to Aelin. He caught the moment when she threw her head back and laughed, the sound making his bones feel like they were both on fire and also a pile of mush. It was a feeling that he was unaccustomed to, having only felt anything of the sort with his high school girlfriend. But if that feeling was a good one, this one made him feel like he was flying. Made him feel a need so deep that he wasn’t sure he would ever recover. He needed every inch of her. Not only her body, but her soul, her smiles, her laughter, her tears. He wanted everything.

“Fuck,” he muttered under his breath. 

Beside him, Aedion chuckled. “You’re only now just realizing it?”

Rowan could do nothing but stare at the table, knowing that if he looked at Aedion, his secretly harbored feelings would be completely out in the open for the other man to see. And if he looked up at Aelin, the same outcome. So yeah, he was fucked. 

“I know you’re having a complete crisis over being in love with her but I’m glad you finally figured it out. Took you long enough.” 

That made Rowan look toward the man sitting next to him, brows furrowed. 

“Yeah, we’ve all known this for ages. I feel like it was obvious to anyone with eyes, to be completely honest. Some of us even have a bet on how long it’ll take for you two to finally admit that you’re in love with each other.” 

  Rowan made to open his mouth with a denial but Aedion held up a hand. “Nope, dude. Save the bullshit. I know just by looking at you that you’re so far gone for her, it’s unreal. And I know that Aelin has never been as happy as when she’s with you. She never laughed this freely until she met you.” Aedion let out a small huff of breath. “You have my blessing.” 

Rowan just repeated his earlier statement. “Fuck.” 

Their conversation was interrupted by a breathless Aelin sitting in the seat to Aedion’s right, where she promptly picked up the half-full glass of wine and chugged it. 

“So what are you boys gossiping about over here that has poor Whitethorn all red in the face?”

Internally, Rowan was panicking. Aedion opened his mouth to say something that Rowan was sure to be snarky but before he could, Rowan blurted out, “birds!” 

The corners of Aelin’s mouth quirked up slightly. “Birds…?” Rowan could tell that she didn’t fully believe him but luckily, Aelin was already half drunk. He hoped she would just let it go. 

The first mistake Rowan made was making eye contact with her. She always had an uncanny ability to read him like an open book, despite most people not understanding him. As she narrowed her eyes, the part of their souls that has always been intertwined translated for him, as if to say, I don’t believe you and think you’re full of shit, Buzzard.

So Rowan sent his own thoughts back, I don’t know what you’re talking about, Fireheart. 

The second mistake was continuing to hold her gaze. Not because he gave anything away to her but rather because it prompted the man sitting in between them to throw his hands in the air and exclaim, “Oh no. Oh helllll no. This isn’t happening right in front of me.” Aedion quickly shoved his chair away from the table and got up to leave. Before walking away completely, he turned around and pointed right at the two of them. “I’m tired of this bullshit. You guys need to get it together and just fucking make out already. Gods.” And with his piece said, Aedion stalked away, directly to the bar where he knocked back a shot immediately. 

Rowan turned back to Aelin, whose eyes were wide and brows furrowed. 

“Umm, what just happened?”

The only thing Rowan could do was shrug. He sure as hell wasn’t going to lie to her but he wasn’t sure that he could outright confess his feelings, either. He was saved from deciding by the transition to a slower song, one he knew Aelin liked. As he looked back over at her, her eyes had drifted closed and her shoulders were swaying slightly, moving along to the lilting melody of the song. 

Rowan shoved his chair away from the table, extending his hand toward her. Blue eyes met his own and held his gaze with an intensity that could’ve set him on fire. “Dance with me, Fireheart.”

Aelin managed a small smile and took his hand, following him to the dance floor where Lysandra and Aedion and her parents were already coupled up and swaying back and forth. He gently guided her hand to rest at his shoulder, laying his own on her waist, and cradling her other to his chest. 

Looking down at her, he felt like he could do this forever. Her bright teal eyes were hazed with alcohol and something else, as if she felt content, safe. Slowly, she tilted her head so it rested on his chest. Of their own accord, Rowan’s lips gently placed a kiss to her hair, inhaling her sweet lemon verbena and lavender scent. Aelin always smelled so good. So…comforting. Like home.

Through the haze of their otherworldly bubble, Aelin murmured something. 

“Hmm?” he asked.

Pulling her head back, she answered him, “I said ‘are you going to tell me what that was back there at the table? With Aedion?”

He tensed, Aelin tensing along with him. “It was nothing, Aelin.”

She raised an eyebrow in protest. He knew she was disappointed. She could tell he was lying through his teeth. “It obviously wasn’t nothing. Just tell me. Did my mom say something? She and my aunts have been watching us all night like hawks.”

“Really, Fireheart...I…It’s nothing. Everything’s good.” He gave her a tight smile, hoping she would let it go and they could go back into their bubble. But, of course, this was Aelin. She tensed even further, pulling her hand off of his shoulder and making to pull away from him completely. But before she could walk away from him, he grabbed her hand and as gently as he could, pulled her back toward him. She was caught off guard, Rowan could easily tell that much. 

He slowly began to sway them back and forth again. Not caring about the eyes on them, he murmured “I’m not good at this.”

Aelin’s brows furrowed together. “At what?”

Rowan’s shoulders shrugged up and down of their own accord. “This. Talking about…about my feelings.”

Aelin’s head tilted in that way of hers that told him she was thinking. “And what about your feelings are you having a hard time with?”

“I’m not having a hard time with my feelings, I just…I can’t–” Rowan sighed. “For fuck’s sake.” It was at that moment, when Aelin was looking up at him with her eyes that could see everything, her beautiful mind that could work out any problem, that he grabbed her face. “Aelin–I love you. I’m in love with you.” Rowan felt as if his heart was going to beat out of his chest, his breathing so ragged as he waited in anticipation for what she would say back. But the answer didn’t come after a few seconds. And then it didn’t come after a few more. Aelin just stood there, wide-eyed and mouth opening and closing as if she couldn’t find the words, either. And bit-by-bit, Rowan was beginning to give up hope. 

   Slowly, he loosened his grip on her face, meaning to step back and give her space. But before he could pull away completely, Aelin threw her arms around his neck, dragging his head down forcefully and attaching her lips to his own. If he was being honest, it was probably the least romantic kiss he’d ever experienced but it didn’t matter one bit because it was Aelin. 

The kiss was over before it started and Aelin pulled back slightly. Just enough to murmur, “I love you, too, Buzzard.” 

He couldn’t help the smile that overtook his face. Properly this time, he held her face between his hands and brought her mouth back to his. This kiss was entirely different from the first. Gone was the urgency and desperation and in its place was genuine love and devotion. Would he ever get enough of this? He could’ve died in her kiss a happy man right at that moment. But he hoped that he would get many more chances to experience Aelin in all her glory.

Cheers and clapping broke them out of their reverie, startling them both back into reality. Rowan assumed it was cheering for Galan and his wife but as Rowan’s gaze roamed over the crowd, they all seemed to be watching…him. Aelin’s mother was at the head of her sisters, all five of the Ashryver sisters looking toward him and Aelin. All with smirks on their face. He could’ve sworn he heard a few swoony sighs as he and Aelin made their way back to their seats, faces aflame. 

Once seated, Aelin leaned in close, putting her hand dangerously high on his thigh. “Well, I’d say it’s not such a bad thing that our room only has one bed, wouldn’t you Buzzard?” 

Rowan narrowed his eyes. “Did you plan this, Fireheart?” 

Aelin shrugged. “Maybe, maybe not. Who could ever know.” Rowan pinched her side, making her giggle. “I will say, though, that my wheels might have started turning the moment I walked in on you having a nice little smutty dream about me.”

Rowan gaped. “Wh-what?!”

Aelin shot him an answering smirk. “Oh yeah, did you think I didn’t know? You were literally moaning my name in your sleep. How else was I supposed to take that? Unless there’s another Aelin in your life, which, if that’s the case, excuse me, I’ll let you two be alone.” She feigned getting up from the table but he pulled her right back down, bringing her face close to his. 

“And so what if I was, Fireheart?” He murmured in her ear. He both saw and felt the shiver that made its way down her body. 

“Then, Buzzard, I’d say its a very good thing that our room has a king bed.” While his blood heated at her promise, he couldn’t help but think that this was the start of something amazing. Something that felt like home.

Tagging:

@cretaceous-therapod @morganofthewildfire @tomtenadia @live-the-fangirl-life @charlizeed @violet-mermaid7 @euphoric-melancholyy @kritical24 @rubyriveraqueen @dealfea @wellofnothing @ayaashryver @moonknight-spector @leiawritesstories @whoever-you-choose-to-love @holdthefrickup @heirofflowers @thecrispypotatochip @shanias-world @rowanaelinn @bruiseonthefaceofhumanity @hanging-from-a-cliff @fantacysoup @swankii-art-teacher @thegreyj @fromthelibraryofemilyj @westofmoon @lovely-dove-zee @books4eva04 @cookiemonsterwholovesbooks @backtobl4ck @dreamer-133 @elentiyawhitethorn @writtenonreceipts @shyvioletcat @aelinchocolatelover @captain-of-the-gwynriel-ship @athena127 @tothestarsandwhateverend @highqueenofelfhame

[thestalkerbunny]

I had a dream last night and it was so fantastic, I'm gonna fucking share it and eventually draw and expand on it-but this is basis of it.

They finally made Fallout 5.

TLDR: Where the actual First Nation's People went, history threatening to repeat itself, finally the non-romancable npc is that way for a GOOD REASON.

It actually takes place in the middle of America; and it's established when the bombs dropped-it was mostly on major cities near the coastal areas-such as Las Vegas,Boston,Washington Dc, etc. etc.-but with the radius, there is a part of the US that recieved the least amount of radiation.

(A poorly made map by your truely, probably not all accurate where bombs dropped but like. The darker places is all the places I'm pretty sure we've been. Probably wrong but I don't care to look up for accuracy.)

And it's this odd massive strip of land right down the middle. It's not COMPLETELY devoid of radiation-but it's a small part of the whole of USA that received the LEAST amount of it and over time was able to recover successfully, similar to Chernobyl years after the Nuclear Meltdown. Still toxic levels of radiation if you do things like upset the dirt or go in too deep-but otherwise harmless to explore and live in if you're tolerant to those levels of radiation. And in Fallout where RadAway is a helpful common place medication tool-it could potentially be a paradise. The wild life is actually very plentiful and you can honestly spot a lot of normal looking wildlife like normal looking deer and occasionally-a one headed cow. But it's still vast and ominously empty at the same time. Like wandering through thick forests and open plains and prairies with nothing around for miles.

But it was the answer to where the actual Native Americans were in Fallout-they're in this place that everyone in the game referred to as The Holy Strip. A lot of the settlements and cities are a part of the First Nation and one of them I specifically remember was the biggest city called Cherokee City-and it had a collage where for caps or certain items you could move around a point of your S.P.E.C.I.A.L stats if you felt it like it's better used in a different spot-and it was flavored as that's where all the academics flocked to share survivalist knowledge so when people venture out into the Wastes they'd at least have a basic grasp on things. And for the most part, all the cities in The Holy Strip got along-there was a sort of system where each city had an elected person on a council and everything was voted on before major choices were made, etc. etc. all in all the most high functioning areas in Fallout at least in that sense. There's of course tiffs and occasional spats-but other than that-not a whole lot of blood is shed.

And of course there were other factions outside of The Holy Strip who wanted the area for themselves; rather they wanted to affirm governance over the entire area (We know what this is an allegory for, Government trying to run off Native peoples.) And the game gives you the option to either side with the outside Factions-each with their own reason for wanting control of The Holy Strip or siding with The Holy Strip and the people who were there from the start and helped that area STAY as nice as it could be in an irradiated hellscape. And it's not just the theme of 'War never changes' but also the theme of 'History always threatens to repeat itself.' and you have to decide which part of this repeat of history you want to be on.

And there were like....4 Specifical companions I recalled.

One was a woman named Angora and she was a porn actress-and in some of dialogue, it's insinuated she's from New Vegas or that area because in her idle mode she'll tell raunchy jokes-specifically 'Did you hear about the mailman with a bullet in their skull?' Her specific quest is to destroy the holotapes of shoot that had gone wrong and turned into an assault and the footage still was spread out in the public. And the destruction of these holotapes is her reclaiming agency over herself.

Another was a Vietnamese woman named Jun who was a botonist looking for the national seed depository in Colorado that happens to fall within the area of the Holy Strip-she's got the pass key to get in there and she wants to use this time since The Holy Strip has shown such successful progress and good soil ph levels-to start cultivating and distributing seeds to the settlements so more food can be grown. Her idle animation if you leave her alone long enough, she'll start planting saplings and if you come back to the same area she plants in later in the game, you'll see them growing slowly.

There was another one-who was like I feel like....a teen girl? Put her at 18? 19 Maybe. A short girl who kinda reminded me of the girl from Atlantis the Lost Empire. She's a tech mechanic and builds guns, improves them, repairs broken things and she's looking for her younger brother whom she got separated from. I think her name was either Delilah or Tuesday. I don't remember clearly. She was a fan favorite for actually normal reasons cause she had such a teen energy to her to say out of fucking pocket shit all the time and sasses you constantly-but in like a fun way.

The final one I remember is a Ghoul you meet at one of the First Nation Settlements. I don't remember his name-but he is of the First Nation and sort of nomadic lifestyle drifting between cities and settlements, helping people where he can when he can. While the Holy Strip is nice-there still is a level of ghoul discrimination and he just preferred being on his own. But when he becomes your companion you learn that he makes a lot of jokes about the 'Native American Wisdom.' One being

"How did you know I was from a Vault?"

"I heard it on the wind....I heard it from the birds....I felt it in the sunlight on my face.....Also you've got the word VAULT 29 Plastered on the back of your stupid blue jumpsuit."

He also liked Romance paperbacks. You meet him during an escort quest he's doing, helping a pregnant woman get to one of the vaults (that apparently she was born at? And she wanted her kid to be born there too.)

And there was new romancable companion functions-where you could gift them items they liked (like Romance books for the ghoul, Seeds for the Botonist, etc.) that would not only boost their affection for you, but give you a temp boost during a fight. ( the 18 year old is the non-romancable option in the game. For once a Non Romancable NPC that makes SENSE.)

And for the most part it was well received? There was still people who bitched a lot about it, complaining they 'needed like 50 million mods to make it acceptable' and people complaining about the ghoul being 'such a sterotype' where most of what he did was ironic and prodding fun at the trope similar to Raul wearing the spirit halloween costume as a joke for his sister. Then there were the freaks who were mad they couldn't romance the 18 year old.

But pobody's nerfect ya know. All in all I now have a game I cannot play.

[orionsangel86]

Good Omens Season 2 - Overall Review

You know every now and then its nice to step outside of the echo chamber and get a fresh perspective on things. I've been looking at some negative reviews for GOS2 this evening after some critical comments came across my dash which was a surprise at first because my dash has otherwise been filled with GOS2 love and adoration (if perhaps also some odd theories floating around).

Everyone is entitled to their opinion, but it made me really consider mine, so I decided to write it down. I know I still have episode reviews for eps 2-6 to write up, which I will get to, but I needed to get this off my chest first. This is generally just a reaction post outlining all the things I liked and didn't like about GOS2. Under a cut because looooong.

I hadn't read the Good Omens book before I watched Season 1. I watched that show completely blind and my main reason for watching at the time was because

a) I'm always going to be a little bit in love with David Tennant and so watch absolutely everything he is in always no matter how horrible (Des was a particularly hard watch)

b) I had heard that GO was partially some of the original inspiration for Supernatural and I'll be a Supernatural slut til the end of time.

c) I love all things fantasy and it genuinely looked like a great show.

Whilst I loved the first season, the thing I loved about it, was Aziraphale and Crowley. I also very much enjoyed the Horsemen of the Apocalypse, the Angels and Demons, and Anathama and Madam Tracey as characters.

I hated the kids. They were bloody awful and on every rewatch I have done in the past few years I have had to skip over their scenes. I find them completely unwatchable. I found Newt to be boring and Shadwell a pain in the ass. I don't find that particular brand of misogyny funny so his scenes are also just painful for me. I loathed the fact that he ended up with Madam Tracey in the end, AND that she changed who she was completely for him. What the FUCK was that all about?

Anyway, now that that is off my chest, the point I am making is that the only thing I really enjoyed about Good Omens was Crowley and Aziraphales love story plus a few of the awesome female characters they had helping them. I also enjoyed the quirky narration by God which I think had a distinctly Douglas Adam's feel to it (which I believe was the vibe Terry and Neil were going for at the time).

I have always been of the opinion that it was GOs faithfullness to the book which let it down. I read the book after watching the show and whilst it was a good book, it dragged on in parts, spent too long focusing on the kids, and Aziraphale and Crowley weren't quite as lovable in book format as they were brought to life by DT and MS. To me, the book was a 6/10, the show a 7/10. I was a fan of AziraCrow and their love story. I did not, and have not ever, believed they were "canon" in season 1 (though i was loathed to admit this due to the rabidity of the fandoms insistence that they were - which was spurred on by Gaiman much to his own detriment).

So when GOS2 came around I had no expectations that it would kick off with AziraCrow being all lovey dovey and shacked up - having confessed their love and living together as life partners - as I genuinely believe some GO fans expected to be the case - after all these are the fans that insisted it was canon in season 1! Surely that means they'll be together in season 2 right?

Well obviously that wasn't the case. First mistake for Neil Gaiman - maybe don't spend 4 years trying to convince your fanbase that these characters are already together and in love if you are going to write a whole second season revolving around the fact that they still aren't together.

I was also really worried when GOS2 was announced that they'd bring back the bloody kids, and Shadwell, and the other season 1 characters. I was very much relieved when I heard that wasn't the case. As much as I enjoyed Madam Tracey, she was ruined at the end of S1, and as much as I liked Anathama, I was very aware that her story was over the moment she burned the new prophecy book.

So going into Season 2, I was expecting and hoping for a few things:

The romantic development of AziraCrow from friends to lovers

More time with the angels and demons

A fun lesbian side story

Technically, I got all three things.

I am aware that GOS2 has its flaws. It's pacings a bit dodgy, and I do find some of the dialogue a bit jarring particularly in the Maggie and Nina scenes. The entire season has this slightly saccharine quality to it where I feel like if I watch it too many times too quickly I'll get sick from the sweetness. There needed to be a little bit more gruesomeness and angst to counteract all that sugar - Zombie Nazi's notwithstanding.

The Maggie and Nina mirrors to Aziraphale and Crowley were more heavy handed than in a season 8 MOTW episode of Supernatural. I've made that joke before, but it still stands. I wish that Neil had been a bit more subtle with it. As much as I like Maggie and Nina, they could have used a bit more development and a bit of distance from Zira and Crowley. I did find the scene where they sit down with Crowley at the end to basically tell him to get his shit together and tell Zira how he feels like something out of a fangirls dream. Does anyone remember that really OTT gay Hallmark style Christmas movie that came out last year? Single All The Way? Gods, when I first watched that movie I thought it was sweet, but it was so obviously taken from fanfiction that I couldn't take it seriously (I say this as someone who adores fanfiction and has huge respect for fanfiction writers - but we all start somewhere, and its usually as a teenager writing really sappy YAOI and that's what I feel inspired Single All The Way - side note: Trixie and Katya's review of Single All The Way is one of the funniest things I've ever watched, nothing like watching two drag queens absolutely destroy queer media that was absolutely NOT written with gay men in mind)). Anyway, I mention SATW because there is a scene towards the end of the movie where two teenage girls sit the protagonist down and tell him that he's an idiot who is clearly in love with his best friend and he should go confess his love before its too late.

Look I'm sure we've all had that fantasy. I know I did when it came to Destiel for years. Nothing better than picturing myself standing in the bunker shaking Dean Winchester by the shoulders yelling at him to go kiss Castiel because goddammit that angel needs to know he's loved!

It's a great fantasy. But I DO NOT want to EVER see it played out for real in ANY media. When I realised that this was exactly what was happening in GOS2 I curled up into a ball and screamed into my hands, and not in a good way. That was... bad. Someone slap Neil on the wrist for that terrible decision. There were a dozen better ways they could have explained the AziraCrow miscommunication issue.

Having said all this, everything else about GOS2 I adored. There is criticism about the minisodes. Sure, they are totally expansions on the popularity of Season 1's episode 3 opener, and are rather self indulgent and not really connected to the main Gabriel mystery, but they are each of them an absolute blast. They dig deeper into AziraCrow's relationship and help to understand a bit more of their dynamic and the underlying issues that they have been facing for their entire friendship.

I totally understand where people may criticise the Gabriel/Beelzebub romance coming out of left field as well. It was totally unexpected and yeah, sure, Gabriel was basically the villain of season 1, so I can understand the irritation and him getting to have a happy ever after love story when he has never even apologised to Zira. But I gotta be honest, I don't really care. I thought it was hilarious and a fun twist as well as well as a much more subtle narrative mirror to AziraCrow than Maggie and Nina were. You can accuse Neil of taking that idea from fans if you want, its totally possible that he came across some ineffable beurocracy fanart and thought huh, that could be fun. But I don't care if he did, or if it did come to him completely separately to the fans. I never shipped them, but I find it hilarious in the same way I find the Dean/Crowley ship in SPN hilarious. That went canon too, much to the horror of the entire SPN fandom. NO ONE ASKED FOR DROWLEY and yet they inflicted it on us anyway... I'll never quite get over that fact.

As for Aziraphale's characterisations. I disagree with everyone who says he was out of character. I love that he's still struggling with the idea of not being part of heaven. I love that he is still dealing with the millennia of abuse and brainwashing and manipulation. I love that he still hasn't quite grasped the tyranny and institutional corruption at Heaven's heart. I found the end of season 1 to be very satisfying in a lot of ways (other than the lack of handholding in the Ritz) but when I really think about it, Season 1 really doesn't resolve Zira's issues with Heaven. He get's discorporated, decides he doesn't want to fight, goes back to Earth and then he's dealing with the apocalypse and he never actually has any communication with Heaven again after that, because it's Crowley who goes to Heaven in his place and witnesses just how cruel they are (at least Hell gave Crowley a trial).

Nothing happens at the end of season 1 that could be enough to break him away from 6000 years of cult-like indoctrination. He still puts it down to a few bad angels. He never actually talks to God, and whilst the Metatron disappoints him, its very easy to believe that Zira would change his mind after receiving a few kind words, and the promise of restoring Crowley to full angelhood.

Crowley was perfect throughout the entire season. 10/10. No notes. Absolutely utter perfection. Outstanding performance from DT, I laughed, I cried, I wept, I desperately want to hug Crowley and let him cry on my shoulder for an entire night.

Other things I adored about the season include the entirety of episode 5 The Ball. My fave episode. It was so silly and adorable and funny. The entire "Seamstress" conversation had me rolling with laughter. Shout out to Donna Preston (Our girl Despair) who absolutely stole every scene she was in. Miranda Richardson shines as Shax (an excellent choice to recast her as a new character after the butchering of Madam Tracey's character at the end of S1). I think Muriel was a bit underutilised but still loved their wide eyed innocence and naivity.

The biggest thing I think was missing was Francis McDormand's narration as God. They brought her back for episode 2 for a very minor role, I don't understand why Neil couldn't have just had God narrate it again, with more Douglas Adams crossed with Monty Python style sequences of explanation (the angels dancing on the head of a pin is one of my absolute favourite moments in all of season 1). I presume that God's narration in S1 was to ensure the books more abstract explanations got faithfully adapted, but I wish Neil could have at least tried to recreate that for S2.

Finally, the AziraCrow romance was almost exactly what I hoped for. All the way through the season they built on it and built on it, whilst also shedding light on the fundamental issues at their core. They are still so opposite even though they want nothing more than to be together. It's heartbreaking, it's shippy AF, its all romance tropes and fanservice sure - but I don't consider fanservice to be a dirty word. The kiss is heartbreaking. You can feel the desperation oozing off of Crowley in that moment. The heartbreaking cliffhanger is exactly what's needed at the end of act 2 of a 3 act structure. If we had been given the episodes week by week, i fully believe by week 6 we would have been more prepared for it, because after rewatching a few times now, its built in rather seemlessly imo. It was always gonna end that way.

When I consider everything, I can honestly say hand on heart that I preferred this season to the first. Though that's only because season 1 doesn't have enough AziraCrow in it and I'm ultimately here for them. This season was made for the AziraCrow fans, so it makes sense that I'd prefer it, whereas I suppose for book lovers and people who prefer the story of book 1 to the relationship between Az and Crow then yeah, for sure I can see why perhaps you wouldn't be too happy with this season. Perhaps Season 3 will be a better blend for all GO fans.

It was a joy. Fanservice? Yes. A bit like fanfiction? Also yes. Are either of these things bad? Not at all. It was extremely queer, fun, silly, romantic, and heartbreaking. The lack of overarching domineering plot was a good thing tbh. Some of my favourite shows focus more on character development than plot, look at WWDITS, which has never had a proper plot in a single episode of its 5 season run. Yet it is hugely successful and critically acclaimed. Half the time in Supernatural the plot was the absolute worst thing about it. You ignored the plot as much as possible and instead focused on the subtext because that's where all the fun was! So yeah, the lack of overarching plot doesn't bother me in the slightest.

I will leave it there. Everyone is entitled to their own opinions, though I do wish that anyone who is particularly critical of GOS2 would please tag it as such, because now I've done my dive into the critique of it, I'd like to avoid and blacklist all such critique going forward. I want to remain in my little GOS2 happy bubble for a while longer - before I inevitably revert back into deep meta analysis of the much darker, and sometimes depressing story of The Sandman.

:)

[ashton-ryder]

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tw: minor acephobia Ashton took a long while to work out who he was, confronting the fact that he never felt the same kind of attractions as others did. Sure he'd feel emotional, romantic attractions, but he's never wanted to jump into someone's pants before, the odd ball in high school while everyone's hooking up like rabbits, hiding behind the social shield of ice hockey and his teammates. He ever once got into a fight for a random passing comment made of him, what a freak, probably only fucks his hockey stick and can't even get it up. His girlfriend probably cheats on him so that she can get some, she can get some with me since he's useless. He fought them and got in trouble for this, his mom tried to push back against that bullshit but instead, Ash rather take the punishment for the fight to end the conflict, paying it in hockey training hours, knowing the school rather not write up one of their star athletes. Having had a few relationships thereafter helped him figure it out much easier despite the heartbreaks. Being sex-favorable, it's not that he doesn't enjoy sex or doesn't know how to have a good time, it's that he doesn't look at someone and think oh my god they're so fucking hot I want to jump into their pants. There's no urge, no desire, no craving, no attraction for it. His high school girlfriend broke up with him over that, not looking like he wanted or desired her enough despite being head over heels for her. Growing older made things easier, people weren't as nasty as they were in high school, though it also made him much more cautious of relationships. It's oftentimes easier just to not have them. Communication like adults probably made all the difference, and Ashton growing older, wiser, simply accepting that whatever he felt was whoever he was, after parsing through all the chaotic confusion in his younger years - landing on the fact that emotions were always his prerequisite for sex. So just know that if he has sex with you, he fucking loves you. .

Ashton often wondered what his life would've been like if he continued with ice hockey. He was the best offensive defenseman his high school had since in years, helping bring their school team's name and pride to state and national levels. They were bringing back wins after wins and by his senior year their hockey team was a force to be reckon with. Ash was helping to train their juniors by that point, everything in his life at that point was for ice hockey, lest he let himself fall to deep into a self destructive hole of grief, he was always an all in kind of person. Losing his dad changed the course of his life, dropping the sports scholarship he was about to get and joining the military instead. He could perhaps see his alternate life in Beau, living vicariously to him and his joys with his own sport, things might've just been simpler, happier if he had done the same. Ashton is absolutely grateful for the life he has and choices he made, but that's a what if that comes knocking every once in awhile. .

Teaching was never something Ashton thought he'd enjoy, seeing the way his mother worked so hard for so little with the biggest joys only from the satisfaction of setting her kids on the right path at formative years of their lives. Sometimes he wished she chose a career that would've been easier on her, give her the resources and pay she needed to do her job instead of scrimping and saving and buying her own school supplies for her kids, but he'd never have the heart to tell her otherwise whenever she tells him about her day teaching her kids over dinner. It was pure joy and pride, and whatever struggles or otherwise seemingly no longer mattered in those moments. And when Ashton picked up his own mantle to teach as part of his PhD, it was.. an interesting experience. Sure he wasn't teaching the solar system to elementary kids, but he actually enjoyed teaching quantum physics to college kids, having debates with them, as scary as a lot of them found him; he held a standard of respect, compliance and diligence in his class, almost militaristic. His students better show up and show out, they are here to learn, and any other attitude was not welcomed in his classrooms. They are adults and he treats them as such, take responsibility and pride or leave. But because he treats them like adults, he always gave them the grace to speak their minds in lectures. And from there, he thinks he finally understands what his mother talks about, that feeling of teaching. An unexpected joy Ash didn't think he'd find, but not unwelcome. .

Ash's love language, both giving and receiving, is definitely physical touch, perhaps an ace irony, but he appreciated the skinship and intimacy, of being able to show your love instead of tell it, and having it cost nothing but the desire to be close to one another. Platonically and romantically, he didn't need gifts or words or quality time, just simply acts of a hug, an arm around your shoulder, a cuddle, hand holding, kisses, hair play, even just being physically close, things that physically grounds him was all he needed and loved to give and reminds himself mentally that he's not falling too far into his own mind, that there was a here and now to focus on.

[91vaults]

What sparked your last breakup and what has got you hung up about it?

Ok I'm sorry but this is gonna be long.

breakup comes literately out of nowhere, one of those "i cant be in a relationship right now" things, ( ill call her Dianne ) had a rather blaze attitude to mental health where you just have your coping mechanisms and power through, except (and this is just my perspective on what happened) the coping mechanisms stopped working and I think they freaked out and quote " I can't be the girlfriend you deserve" and "I have to let you go". things had always been very cruisy ...so it was odd that the second she felt she had to address some MH issues she just decided it was best to cut and run? that doesn't usually happen like that. Everyone I spoke too after the fact was as confused as I was...even the psychologist I was seeing at the time was like "wut?"

I said I would support them through it but no....and it was very much framed in terms of ME and what I needed...which was a bit of a mind fuck because for someone to do that and then just not listen when you try and say otherwise is...a well meaning but kind of cruel thing to do, Dianne had a habit of making assumptions and running with them...and it felt like they got this notion the night before that I was better off regardless of how I actually felt

They got really fixated on the idea of my "next girlfriend" and it would all be ok because the "next girlfriend" would retroactively fix everything. And then proceeded to tell me about what my next girlfriend should be like...superficial shit I didn't care about. It also deeply hurt me that she told me I should be with someone into fashion and tattoo's and such like me, which made me feel like it was going to be an issue with every person I dated and just completely ignores what I actually value in a partner.

Imagine your at the vet and your dog is getting put down and as the vet is putting in the needle they say "yeah look this dog isn't the right dog for you, your NEXT dog is gonna be great. You should get a terrier...you're more of a terrier person" like holy shit let me just deal with whats happening right now.

I know she's someone who moves on from things very quickly and I don't think they actually understand how people work sometimes (I also don't think she's been on the receiving end of a major breakup) , so she might have just assumed I'd be like her and be sad about for like 4 weeks and get straight on the apps.

I had no Idea things had gotten to that point...and they never spoke to me about ANYTHING. So instead of being able to work on things (eg: her anxiety about money and me liking to buy things..perhaps too much) they just decided nope, I don't want to hold you back from the things you like...referencing past conversations and I just couldn't tell her otherwise.

What was so awful she was trying to spare me from? supporting and compromising are normal things even if it doesn't work out. Nothing could have been worse than those months after..I'm still a bit fucked up inside and it might take a year from the date of breakup for me to get past that.

We met up when I felt the time was right, 5 months (possibly earlier) she apparently felt better and was back on the apps...had gone on a visit to her home country and was on the apps there...and that's ok I knew that would be the case, but I wouldn't be human if it didn't cut me a little. She hadn't been for years and I think it made her want to go back and work there...which I am happy for her, maybe I was holding her back in that way, but it also hurts. I'm too that things didn't always align. Before COVID she had intended to move to Melbourne, but circumstances changed and she bought s house here..seemed she wanted to settle down. I felt lucky, but also had often had thoughts of wanting to move there. Now she wants to move to where she grew up in and do all these cool things (like go to pride in taiwan later in the year) and I feel like there's too much to give up if I moved, especially because I feel I'm finally finding my feet, I'm happy here but this is a small city, if she leaves then do all the people I'd want to be with leave? is this not the place for them? will I never find somone? we all get those thoughts of "am I too scared to be bold"?

Don't get me wrong, I am someone who takes things very hard. a breakup would have been devastating either way but this is worse. If it had been because she felt there were irrevocable differences then I could understand that (and there may have been) if it was because she wanted to go back to where she grew up then I would understand that. if our plans didn't align then I would understand that. But this? it haunts me to think that it only happened because she decided on my behalf. Like I was an exotic bird that needed to be let out of its cage instead of a person. It haunts me to think that if I had said "Hey I deserve better than this lets at least talk about it" then at the very least I would have understood better

I am genuinely happy for the most part, and I genuinely don't want to get back on the apps. But true at the same time I'm a bit fucked up when it comes to the idea of dating because for part of me to not date is to exercise agency because I had it all stripped away.

and I guess that's the thing, its the way it happened and it's partially the why. It's essentially the absolute worst way to be broken up with.

They didn't do me a favor. The fact is sometimes stuff happens and it sucks. Sometimes it sucks more for one person than the other, and sometimes things suck for a little while before they get better (like dating, that can really fucking suck sometimes) and that's OK and to try and spin it and insist it's all gonna be better and great right after the fact just hurts. The previous relationship doesn't have to be worse for the next one to be good

We are still friends (I took a break and waited until the time was right to initiate contact) , and the friendship feels right and when we're together I'm not upset (maybe a little pang when they mention dating but that's normal) it's only when I'm alone and having the conversation in my head do I spiral a bit . They haven't really talked about or acknowledged anything...but that's a very Dianne thing to do.

But the good thing is once the time is right we can have that conversation, and once that hanging thread is delt with then I'll be able to shut the door on the matter (hopefully depending on how the convo goes).

[diesoonandsuffer]

my thoughts on star trek: nemesis

SPOILERS UNDER THE CUT

:(

i knew data was going to die but i still wasn't happy about seeing it. it's funny i was thinking to myself "how can they kill him in a permanent way? he'll probably have to explode" and. well he surely did.

let's put that to the side for the moment. in terms of the movie itself, it definitely had high stakes, it didn't feel like an episode of tng the way the 1st and 3rd movies did. obviously destroying all of earth vs one colony of people are higher stakes but i also mean in terms of the pacing, the music, the mood, etc. i found tom hardy.......sort of interesting? i had to adjust to both his voice and looks since i've never seen him look like a bald twink and speak with anything other than a gruff voice so that took a lot of adjusting lol. but his character would interest me at times and bore me at others. i liked his line "you won't live to see the echo defeat the voice" and at the end when he purposefully pulled the sword or whatever further through his body so he could look picard in the eye as he died. but then he would do boring villain stuff or sexually assault troi and i would be like ok what are we doing here.

also really? fucking sexually assaulting troi AGAIN?! tng writers get a job stay away from her. literally any time a non-cast member man is near her i feel fear. and i know they tried to do the whole her taking back her power thing with the mind connection to the viceroy but girl it is not the serve you thought it was. however i can't deny i loved seeing her in the classic trek/noir "light over the eyes" i'm shocked they haven't done it for her sooner since she has the black betazoid eyes. but anyway that shit pissed me off.

other than that troi scene pretty much anyone who isn't picard or data is irrelevant to this movie. you could replace worf with a regular security agent and almost nothing would change, beverly could just be any doctor and riker is mostly relevant to the few scenes with troi, which as we've discussed i don't like. i did enjoy seeing their wedding at the beginning and i liked picard's speech, but seeing them get married reminded me of how quickly they got back together in insurrection and then i got mad again lol. society if i had the time to rewrite their plot in insurrection for a fic. but that's besides the point.

i can't really think of anything else to talk about other than data's death. like i mentioned i knew he was going to die in this but i didn't know how or why, however early on in the film it was easy to figure out that he was going to sacrifice himself. it's a little odd that the movie was like here have his stupider younger brother as a glimmer of hope or something even though data himself is like yeah that guy isn't me even if he has my memories. so what was the point of that?

i think the part of data's death that made me the saddest was when riker comes back to the bridge and troi runs over and embraces him. you see geordi look at them with this smile but it's full of sadness, and then his face falls and he looks back at the explosion debris. why did they linger on that. i could literally feel geordi thinking that the person he wanted to be with forever just got fucking exploded. it was so clearly that emotion and i don't know what they were trying to convey otherwise but they failed. literally they should have filmed geordi kissing the android just once like they deserved it!

also side note so funny how they finally completely gave up on the emotion chip. no mention of it and data makes a comment on having no emotions. they could have said oh he left it behind so b-4 can have it but they didn't even do that. goes to show how stupid of an idea it was.

[edit: oh my god who is going to take care of spot. i just thought of that and got so sad. i guess b-4 could and spot might not be able to tell the difference but that android is not equipped to take care of an animal i don't think. WHO TAKES CARE OF SPOT. if this is ever answered please let me know.]

but that's that i suppose! overall i think i like the tos movies more than the tng ones, at least the first four compared to these four. the tng movies are definitely better than the last two tos movies. they might be better movies overall just from a technical standpoint but i think the tos movies are more rewatchable. i think the only tng movie i would rewatch is first contact, and even then i have no active desire to at the moment. however not every trek movie can be the search for spock so i have to be realistic. it is crazy to think there are no trek movies left for me to watch since i've seen the aos movies already. i liked having them for me at the end of the show, so it'll be sad whenever i finish ds9 and there will be no movies for me to watch. they added a gravitas to their original shows that made everything feel fuller and dynamic, and elevated it beyond what the tv format ever could. i think the first tng movie is the best example of this, i loved seeing the tng set through a movie. but, that's that!

[thevindicativevordan]

Comics this week?

Action Comics #1054 - Loved Superman going all Naruto with a susanno, loved how PKJ portrayed Supes in line with both the original Golden Age attitude (he calls Metallo a bully and takes him down a peg) and the softer modern incarnation (he offers to help Metallo save his sister). Reads just like Morrison Superman does. My one complaint is that we're still falling back on Metallo spamming kryptonite. All the upgrades he got from Warworld tech, and he's resorting to that yet again? Disappointing. Metallo isn't a total jobber, he's crippled Kara, beaten Conner and Jon, kidnapped the Super-Twins, built an army, he's kicking ass and is dangerous... except he can't even seem to scratch Clark himself. Henshaw calling Metallo a loser does seem to be true. I have a notion where this is going, I think Tracy is either going to die or be revealed as the leader of the Blue Earth group, and Metallo will join that movement to get revenge on Superman for her death, or to work for her because she's the only thing he cares about anymore. If Metallo gets to kill Henshaw and PKJ sets him up to return down the road for another big arc where he finally kicks Clark's ass, that's good enough for me. Otherwise, much as I've enjoyed this, I can't say PKJ has succeeded with Metallo the way he did with Mongul. He did however make me realize the one big Superman trait Metallo contrasts with that I'll write about at the end of this arc.

Green Arrow #1 - Never been a huge Green Arrow fan, an odd thing to say considering I read his entire Rebirth run start to finish, but I enjoyed Williamson's Superman so much I decided to give this a shot. Cry For Justice was actually one of the earliest stories I read because my library had a trade of it. Insane that this is where we finally get a reunion between Roy and Lian. Otherwise I thought it was fine, not sure about the cosmic aspect of things, but I intend to read the first arc at least.

Unstoppable Doom Patrol #2 - Doing a piss take on the Krakoa Era X-Men right as I've become bored with them post-Hickman is just what I needed. Cackled at the data page jab, and also Culver lampooning how stupid it is for every magic group to just slap "Dark" on their title (knock it off Johns). Robotman launching Worm into orbit to prevent him from blowing up the Shelter was hilariously fucked up, should hopefully assuage the people afraid this would just be a knock-off X-Book. That's pure Doom Patrol right there, even more so with the reveal that Velvet is the true double agent. Peacemaker is a bastard and a great villain for the Doom Patrol, Culver has me fully on board with the Suicide Squad being the true antithesis to the Doom Patrol. Loved Burnham's depiction of the Shelter, FINALLY some cool superhero bases again! I missed that

Detective Comics #1071 - Interesting experience reading PKJ Action and Ram Detective at the same time, because they are both aiming for long epic runs that redefine their respective franchises. Action works better for me because it never loses sight of Superman being at the center, whereas here we get an issue full of lore dumping with Batman barely featuring. At this point I'm losing track of all of these new characters and the MacGuffins they're squabbling over, plus yet another retelling of Ra's early days. V's best work has been with Two-Face and Mr. Freeze, these Orghams are rather dull and derivative of other would-be usurpers, and I don't care about them anymore.

The Riddler: Year One #4 - How? How is this so good? How is a movie tie-in written by an actor who has never written a comic before running laps around experienced writers?

Blue Beetle: Graduation Day #6 - Surprisingly strong ending. Probably the best bridge between the original Giffen run and what the movie is changing. Looking forward to the ongoing now.

Sins of Sinister: Dominion #1 - Think I'm as sick of Sinister as the X-Men themselves are. Moira attempting to reclaim control of the narrative was nice, now how about we actually DO that by making her more than a mustache twirler? Unless the solicits are lying, Emma, Hope, Exodus, and Charles going into the Pit is going to be undone quick, but perhaps at the cost of resurrections. I give this event a 7/10, a huge step down from Judgement Day.

Invincible Iron Man #5 - Think I'm out, Fei Long and Tony's rivalry is stupid. Long just picks a fight with Stark for no real reason other than "I want a rival!" and while there's some justification beyond that, it's bound up in the Avengers not claiming Mars while the X-Men did. If this was Long wanting Stark's company to help Orchis, and Tony thwarting him being what kicks off their personal enmity, then it would be better. Instead Duggan tries to jump right into making things personal, but the crux of their fight having roots in another franchise undermines the whole endeavor.

Hulk #14 - Terrible ending but I expected nothing less. Had a chuckle at how heavy handed the letter from Samson was, might as well have been Ottley going "yeah sorry this run didn't go the way we wanted with Cates bailing, here's Bruce reset back to status quo, good luck to the next creative team!"

Doctor Strange #2 - Honestly I preferred Clea as the solo lead. The book is fine but it's not gripping me the way I want. I'll give it until issue 6 to pick up.

W0rldtr33 #1 - It's great, Tynion doing another horror book how could it not be? Jesus Christ though, somehow this is hitting even harder for me than the Department of Truth did. Internet as a demonic entity could come across as corny, but damn if Tynion doesn't make it terrifying.

[rolo]

Hello, I miss you.

I don't post here anymore. Clearly. My last actual post was saying I don't post here. But I logged in the other day for funsies and saw that some people I knew back in the day still use Tumblr! It makes me really happy to see people I love still kicking it. And that people are still being passionate and creative. I miss being a part of this.

Anyway, it got me really nostalgic and I wanted to do something cathartic so I wrote a long ass letter thing to myself. I also wanted an easier way to send it to some people, so it's ended up here.

I really don't expect anyone will engage with this, but if you see this/do engage with it, hello!! I miss you! My life is chaos and I can scarcely believe I had the time to do this (it's because I have had 4 days off work with like, parainfluenza or some shit). If you can be arsed, I'd love to hear from you. One day, I will get time to send people messages to tell them that I still think fondly of them, but that is going to have to wait until after physician exams (which I better fucking pass or I will actually go insane) and can do it with the amount of time and dedication it actually takes to be sincere and heartfelt.

I still talk a lot of shit, hey?

I.

My life's changed so much compared to when I was active online. I have a wife, a son, a cat (I swore I'd never get a cat!), a different career, and a significant lack of free time. All of which explains why I am not active in fandom. I'm immensely satisfied with my life. I have so much to be thankful for, and so much that makes me happy each day (even though my son does not sleep (he is otherwise perfect) and I currently have a horrible cold). But I still miss fandom. I also miss consuming media! I just have minimal time. Between a full time job (which is actually more than full time; thanks, health care system), my wife, a child with seemingly boundless energy, maintaining a house, attending to the bare minimum of life admin and studying for physician exams, I generally have like, what, 30 minutes a day where I am not otherwise engaged? So I spend that time drinking tea with my wife and having an adult conversation, to stop her going insane from having to read Spot Goes to the Park for the umpteenth time. And, you know, she's my wife so I actually just enjoy hanging out with her.

So it leaves very little time for consuming new media. And thus no ability to engage in new fandoms. I don't really have time for fandom, anyway, even old ones. And a lot of my old fandoms have died, and I don't have the time to seek out the last bastions of fans and then try and make new friends. Which makes me sad because I love media! And I love talking about media with other people who also love media!

But I also feel as though I find it so hard nowadays to find something which appeals to me. Entertainment, for as long as I have been alive anyway, has always been a part of the capitalist machine. But in recent years, it feels as though it has become this way even moreso, with media designed specifically to be profitable at the expense of being creative or truly innovative. This has meant games are pivoting away from standalone stories to DLC models and live service models, anime is a lot of isekai shit (I am out of the loop, though, so maybe we're over that??). There is good stuff out there, but legally streaming it all would require me to take out a second mortgage. So I've just been relying on YouTube to watch random videos when I can, and have consumed the odd series or two.

It just all feels very lonely. And makes me wonder what the media landscape will look like when my son grows up. Will we be able to bond over a mutual appreciation for the media we enjoy, or am I going to look at what he consumes with bemusement? And if I try and share my favourite things with him, will he thing it's a load of shit and go off and play the latest version of Fortnite? I hope not. At the very least, I like to think that some of my favourite stuff can transcend generations a la Star Wars or Back to the Future, which I shared with my parents.

My other hope is books. Books are subject to trends, too, but there will always be large communities who enjoy particular genres, and thus always new, quality works in those genres. And my son loves books, so here is a glimmer of hope. Hopefully, we do move past Spot and onto something more robust.

(As an aside, the blurbs for children's books are hilarious. For example, in Spot Goes to the Park, he loses his ball since it goes into a lake (because Helen the hippo has butterfingers) and SPOILERS, a duck brings it back. But the blurb - which is just about as long as the damn book itself - makes it sound like you'll be reading some Agatha Christie level mystery. Love it. #parentthings #dopeoplestillusehashtags?)

II.

I logged into Dreamwidth and LiveJournal the other day, just for shits and giggles. It was partly to look at the icons I'd made (sidenote: I actually got pretty good at that? Like, I made some quality shit) and partly to reminisce. I clicked on a few old friend's profiles to reminisce. I noticed that someone I was really close to, but lost contact with, had posted 2 years ago! They had a link to their other socials, and they're actively posting there.

I always worried that something had happened to them, so it's wonderful to know they're okay (or at least, alive). I think the reason we lost contact was probably me. They were going through some heavy stuff - events in their life and significant mental health diagnoses - and their coping strategies were less than ideal (i.e. use of substances). Not a judgement, but it's well documented that substance use as a coping mechanism is not good for you and exacerbates concurrent mental health problems. Anyway, I thought I was being helpful by suggesting they wind back on the substances because of that and interactions with their meds. It was well intentioned, but I'm sure that it probably did not come across that way. I mean, I was a 21 year old who thought I knew how the world worked. Obviously I didn't. 

I think I'm still glad I tried, though. If something happened, and I hadn't, I'd have felt terribly guilty. I still do feel guilty for assumedly causing hurt, but I think it would pale in comparison to guilt for not having tried to help a friend in trouble, and then something awful happen.

Now that I know they're still around, part of me wants to reach out. Not to rekindle a friendship, but to let them know I still think of them from time to time, that they were an important person in my life, and I'm sorry if I hurt them. I wouldn't need a reply, it would just be to clear the air. But then, if they cut me out for a reason, does suddenly reappearing make them hurt all over again if they remember who I am and what I did? Largely I do want to reach out to try and lessen the hurt, but a small part of me hopes that they would forgive me and reply, and I'll feel better. Is having this guilt, and knowing they no longer want to be my friend, actually something I just need to live with a consequence of my action? Is my seeking to apologise and let them know they're important actually just self serving?

And again, is what I'm really after is them replying and us reminiscing about the good old days and we strike up a friendship again? I mean, that would be amazing. I truly loved this person. They were kind to me, they were wickedly funny and helped improve my self confidence. In their own way, they built me up. I remember many of our interactions leaving me in hysterics. We wrote letters to each other, and would talk endlessly about our shared passions. They were so dear to me, and I desperately hoped that to them, I was even fractionally as dear. So losing them was a big blow, and made me wonder if it was just one sided. Towards the time we cut off contact, they were making fast friends with a lot of new people, and I just wanted to be a part of that, too. Enjoying their company. I felt left out. Messages started to lack replies, until just nothing. 

But that's life, I suppose.

Anyway, I don't have the time to actually be that much of a friend to anyone at the moment. So even if I did get a reply, any exchange would probably be superficial and/or have significant amounts of time between replies. 

So I guess in the end, I'll probably just leave things as they are. But I'm still happier than I was, knowing they're okay.

III.

I mentioned before I primarily watch YouTube when I have a spare moment, or am holding a sleeping child. A lot of what I watch is actually let's plays or first watches of things I've played/watched before. It's easy to do as I don't have to pay super close attention as I know generally what's going on, and I can stop and start without too jarring a break (my wife reads and says it's really jarring/frustrating to have to drop it suddenly for a crying baby at the climax!). But I think the reason I have gravitated towards this as my primary "genre" for now is kind of an amalgamation of the above. It's something I know I enjoy, and it lets me participate in fandom in a passive kind of way, and share in the excitement over a piece of media like I used to back in the day, either during my first time with it, or when new members of a fandom arrived. The most recent series I completed after months was a first watch of Code Geass because I am predictable as fuck (I am the Code Geass meme. If Code Geass has 1 fan, it's me. If Code Geass has no fans, I'm dead). It was really nice seeing people excited about the show and theorising about what was coming just like back in the day! As opposed to now when people binge an entire series, or just post horny pictures on the Code Geass subreddit.

It made me really nostalgic for the days of LiveJournal (hence my login). I miss being a part of a community where people journeyed through media together, and there was the opportunity to get to know them outside of that setting through their journals. Not that you can't do that now, but platforms such as Reddit (and to a lesser extent, Tumblr), where fandom is now concentrated, make things much more impersonal and difficult to actually make friends. Again, not that I have the time, but I miss the magic of forums and LiveJournal and friending memes and knowing what was going on in the lives of my fellow fans! And making icons and graphics and reading fanfiction. It was such a magical time on the internet.

I don't think that will happen again in my lifetime. And I don't think I'll have the time again to engage in that until I retire, haha. But I miss it. I miss people being as excited as me about things. I miss memes. I miss making new friends from around the world.

IV.

Anyway, if you got this far, like wow?? Actually thank you?? I'm guessing if you did, it's probably because we were close in the past. I'm sorry I've been shit at staying in touch. I know I'm prone to exaggeration/melodrama, but it's actually accurate that I have minimal time available to me. This post has been brought to you by sick leave and the fact I'm too sick to properly study.

Please drop me a line if you want. I'd love it. Even if I don't know you, I'd love it.

I hope you're well.

[button-mash]

What I played last week #11

Outrun 2006: Coast 2 Coast [Playstation 2]

I realised when playing this that I actually used to fucking love Arcade racing games - I'm not into cars at all, so once racers started to pivot towards more of a simulation style and car porn, I completely lost interest - If I can't powerslide for a 1000m hairpin, instantly change directions on a penny and do the same again the other way all whilst losing zero speed, I really don't wanna know. I actually think this might be my favourite ever racing game - there's loads to do, the different stages have shitloads of personality and detail, and above all it's just a really fun game that perfectly straddles that line between being really accessible and easy to pick up, but still ridiculously satisfying when you're hitting some perfect corner.

I just want every racing game to be Outrun 2006 - I strictly need any racing game I play to allow 280mph powerslides in a Ferrari as love hearts are flying out of some broad in the passenger seat because she’s utterly delighted that you’re avoiding UFO traction beams as you power-slide around London and inexplicably end up in San Francisco If your game doesn't have that, then I am simply NOT interested

Super Mario Land [Game Boy]

I think this was actually the first game I can ever remember completing in my storied gaming career. Not much to say on this really, it almost feels like some ripoff Mario flash game or something, where it has this 'almost but not quite' quality to it - the movement, the enemies, the levels, it all feels like this slightly off-brand version of regular Mario... like some Mario game where they only got partial rights to it or something.

Obviously they were doing their best with what they had, and I actually think they succeed in a lot of ways, but it's just ultimately not that great a game when you strip a away all the nostalgia. One thing I do love is the music in this game - it has some great themes that you never hear again in the Mario pantheon, and I surprised myself how much I remembered the music and how much nostalgia I had for it  - all except this one, which I'd apparently completely blocked from my memory

even at the time I deep down knew it proper wasn't on

It's actually a proper short game, there are only 4 worlds and each world only has 3 levels. It does try and change things up but most of the challenge comes from how stiff the controls are, which is so at odds with almost every other Mario game. Final thing was how fun it was playing on the Steam Deck - mentioned in another thread, but some of the filters out there now are insanely convincing and completely change up the look  - with this filter it's probably as close as you can get to f eeling like you're playing on a real Game Bo

Great nostalgia hit for this lad playing the same game in this photo though :*)

I also went away with some mates for a weekend break where I snuck in a bit of gaming TMNT: Shredder's Revenge [Nintendo Switch]

I completed this last year and thought it was fantastic - a brilliant love letter to both the cartoons, the Arcade and console games of past and also just the 90s in general. The first time I played it through mostly solo, although this time it was a change to play it with 6 players. It was lot of fun, but the game often devolves into such on-screen lunacy that it becomes almost impossible to see what is going on sometimes. Also, for all the personality and individual touches in the game, it felt like the special attacks feel very samey and unimaginative next to everything else. Still, this was great fun and we were all having an awesome time until we ran into a reoccuring bug that meant we couldn't progress beyond a certain boss. A shame, because i think we might have sat there and finished the whole thing in one go otherwise

Super Smash Bros Ultimate [Nintendo Switch]

I've always really liked the idea of Smash Bros, but never really had much experience playing them. I remember when I lived in my beloved NJ, I'd visit my mates at Rutgers College where they were all absolute savants at Smash Bros 64 - that was my first experience of the game and they were all just SO good at it that it was just impossible to learn. I dabbled in a few of the other games here and there, but never really had a chance to experience it properly. We got some 4 player matches going here, but like with most fighting games, they tend to get boring quite quickly if there is a gulf in ability. I guess that's true for any game really, but it feels particularly true with fighting games

Anyway, it made me realise that for all it's simplicity with it's pick up and play controls, it's actually a fairly complicated game that doesn't really lend itself to new players just picking it up and giving it a go, as there is quite a lot to get to grips with - even the sheer number of characters is overwhelming, let alone trying to explain what is happening on screen. In retrospect I should have picked a stage you couldn't fall off-of and turned off items and let people just get to grips with things, but people quickly got bored of it anyway. One of those series I kinda admire from afar but feel like I've never really had the true 'Smash' experience

Celeste [Nintendo Switch]

A bunch of my mates went for a hike and I didn't fancy it so I ended up playing this for a bit. I completed it on PC when it first came out and absolutely loved it and had been meaning to replay it for ages. Was having a lot of fun with it before my mates returned, so will have to go back to this one at some point

Cruis'n Blast [Nintendo Switch]

This game is super dumb and super fun - a racing game where you basically can't crash and can race a muscle car against a Triceratops and an Attack Chopper gets infinite thumbs up in my book. It's a great game to pick up and play because it requires almost zero skill and every race is basically designed to come down to the last 1000 meters and who can time their final nitrous boost the best. Really fun but the performance gets kinda tanky on 4 player split screen and it's hard to see what the fuck is going on, so we only had a couple of games of this one

Switch Sports Bowling [Nintendo Switch]

Easily got the most play of the weekend. This is that perfect game where you feel like you all kinda want some sort of vague activity to do, but it requires very little attention so you can kinda just sit around and chat shit but still feel like you're playing something - almost exactly like real bowling in that regard. This is great fun, but there is something about it that feels like it isn't as fun as the original Wii Bowling, although I couldn't tell you what. Switch Sports in general feels so sterile compared to Wii Sports, but I guess the whole point is they're just trying to recreate it, so it's always gonna feel a little hollow. Still, it's great fun and easily got played more than basically every other game combined

Mario Golf: Super Rush [Nintendo Switch]

We gave this a go on a whim and it was actually pretty fun, although I probably shouldn't be surprised as golf games inexplicably often seem to make very fun videogames despite being a horrendously boring game in real life. This was fun, but it becomes quite time consuming when a bunch of you are playing. I wish I had more Joycons instead of relying on Gamecube controllers, because I would have loved to have tried out the mode where you all play at once, as I bet it's bonkers and potentially very fun. This was one of a few Switch experiences this weekend that made me think maybe I'll get some more Joycons for the occasional moments like these when you have a fairly large group

Trivial Pursuit [Nintendo Switch]

This is actually a massive guilty pleasure of mine and a few other mates - it scratches the same 'kinda want a vague activity to focus on, but nothing too intensive' itch Bowling does. Unfortunately proved to be a bit difficult to play with Gamecube controllers since it was hard to quickly figure out which answer you were selecting in some rounds. Another nudge towards getting new Joycons

Undisputed [Steam Deck]

I played a bunch of this again to see how it was getting on with patches and to see if it actually ran on Steam Deck. It ran like absolute shit and the recent patches seem to have sent the gameplay backwards, so not the most exciting experience

F-Zero GX [Nintendo Gamecube]

This game is honestly so amazing, it's one of those games where you go back and play it and can't believe it still looks and plays as good as it does. The level of detail in the individual tracks is absolutely astonishing, and the sense of speed is incredible. It's hardly some hot take, but I've never understood why Nintendo has never gone back to the F-Zero well, it's an amazing series

James Bond: 007 Nightfire [Nintendo Gamecube]

I have no idea why I played this - I don't give a shit about James Bond, I have no nostalgia for this game...I think I just put it on out of pure curiosity. I actually thought it was an alright game, but the controls were hard to get to grips with. Honestly couldn't tell you why I even started playing this

Christ, that was a shitload of games

[thebeegalaxy]

This response comes from my partner, as he does not wish to add this on his own account.

1. Do you feel like you were misdiagnosed?

Personally, no I don't. I understand some people might, but I do struggle with the symptoms quite a lot.

2. Do you think over-diagnosis is a problem?

To some degree yes. I don't know too much about that, as I have not researched in depth, however I have read that it is over diagnosed in POC and afab people.

3. Why is disobedience to authority pathologized when abuse from authority figures isn't?

Not fully sure what you're intending to ask, however to the best of my (admittedly limited) knowledge, ODD can exist without abuse from authority. However abuse from authority can definitely trigger it to develop where it otherwise wouldn't have. In my case I had some smaller symptoms prior and a consistent pattern of authority failing/being corrupt or unfair (from child me's perspective) definitely triggered me to heavily fall into having ODD.

After reviewing my message (I wrote that at 4am) it fits in more with the societal norms, or at the very least western traditions (I don't know much about other cultures) of children are seen and not heard + respect your elders. At least where I grew up we are taught that parents can do no wrong and that to imply otherwise is a moral failing of some kind. So some disobedience is seen as okay, but not too much. Though that varies from person to person. Too much disobedience and you're labeled a trouble maker, defiant, difficult kid, and much more bullshit.

4. What does mental healthcare look like for you?

Haven't figured that out because I "seem respectful" to my therapist. Mostly because she has no power over me, although she is steadily pissing me off more so really, that might change. I really haven't learnt to deal with my symptoms despite being diagnosed with it twice (and then those diagnoses basically being ignored and undocumented. Yay /s).

5. If you were living in a world without unjust hierarchies, would that fix ALL your symptoms?

No, it wouldn't for me. I'd honestly probably struggle more depending on when it happened and what the "unjust system" is. If it's societal, no it wouldn't.

I can have small trigger reactions over someone who I perceive as authority, if I percive someone as seeming to think they're superior to me, etc, (can be a complete stranger), trying to tell me to do anything, even if it's to my benefit, I cannot and will not. The better the intention the worse my reaction can get funnily enough. If it's bad intentioned I can trick my brain into going in through some (admittedly kind of silly) logic loops, ie. telling myself they "don't actually want me to so I'll be proving them wrong and make them look stupid if I do the thing."

I don't know if I actually answered that question, whoops.

6. How do you decide what behavior is attributable to this diagnosis and what is "just blowing off steam"?

For me it's easier to tell, at least for myself and my symptoms.

If I'm just "blowing off steam" I go into the interaction with that intent or I rant about the thing pissing me off for hours, and sometimes over the course of days. It's slower and more manageable.

If it's symptoms on the other hand.. well I have no control over it and I cannot actually think I'm in the wrong. Even if I cognitively and logically *know* I am in the wrong. I will fight tooth and nail to not do the thing, provide actual reasons as to why not to (although they are valid they aren't the full/actual reason I'm opposed), and will not budge unless I can force myself to literally forget being told to/the interaction I had. It's really fucking hard to manage when I'm "hard to read", disinterested, etc., (from an outside perspective, but I cannot understand how I seem this way), which will make others act in ways that trigger my ODD and therefore make them treat me worse, creating a loop that I haven't been able to break before despite genuine efforts to.

7. How does this affect your relationships and what are you doing/want to do (if anything) to get along better with people?

It impacts them pretty fucking negatively, either because I go so far in the other direction in an attempt to not drive them away (destroying me mentally and making me resent them heavily), or damaging relationships with people who I don't want that with.

I am trying to get along better, if only to benefit myself. I try and communicate my needs, ask them to tell me directly if there's a problem, all of the healthy things I've seen people told to do over and over again. It doesn't work for me, and I don't know why. My partner has tried to explain it, which is the closest I have come to understanding why.

To other people my tone is flipped, my genuine questions sound like demands, my statements sound like questions, stating a boundary sounds like a challenge; apparently, I don't show much emotion (despite thinking I do). I haven't figured out how to do anything about this, because it's literally just how I exist and talk.

8. Am I already started off on the wrong foot framing my questions like this?

Not from my perspective, although I'm reading it like a questionnaire.

I'd personally recommend rewording some of the questions, partly because for me at the very least they're unclear in what they want for an answer.

I do hope this helps and is still relevant to you.

Also not just saying this on my account because my account is literally just for art lol.

I'm writing a work of fiction in which a character gives a speech about Oppositional Defiance Disorder in adults. I'm open to input from people who have been diagnosed with this.

Do you feel like you were misdiagnosed? Do you think over-diagnosis is a problem? Why is disobedience to authority pathologized when abuse from authority figures isn't? What does mental healthcare look like for you? If you were living in a world without unjust hierarchies, would that fix ALL your symptoms? How do you decide what behavior is attributable to this diagnosis and what is "just blowing off steam"? How does this effect your relationships and what are you doing/want to do (if anything) to get along better with people? Am I already started off on the wrong foot framing my questions like this?

[cute-peter-parker]

High School AU Where Peter Was Blipped

It was odd being back in school, redoing his senior year from the beginning again. Everyone who had been blipped had only been back for a month before being thrust back into school. It was so strange how everything had changed in 4 years, but Peter had stayed the same. Same Peter, different world.

He walked through the doors with his best friend, Ned, thank god the other boy had also been blipped. Otherwise his friend would be in college right now or doing anything other than attending high school with Peter.

There were some familiar faces, about half to be exact, but the rest were complete strangers. Peter felt like a freshman again, being thrust into a new environment full of unknowns.

“Peter! Peter hey!” Peter whipped his head around in the direction of the yelling. He saw a tall boy he had never seen before pushing his way through the crowded hallway towards him and Ned. “I’m so happy to see you back.” The strange, although very attractive boy said.

“Uh hey… man. What’s up?” Peter replied, unsure who this was and how they knew his name.

“You don’t recognize me do you? It’s me! Tony. Tony Stark. We were on the decathlon team together before… we’ll you know.”

Peter’s eyes widened in recognition. “Tony?? Oh my god look at you! You’re so….”

“Not 14 anymore? Yeah that kinda happens when 4 years have passed. You on the other hand have not aged a day.” Tony gave Peter a little wink, which Peter remembers was not unusual for the other boy to do, even when he was 14. Tony had the biggest crush on Peter when they did decathlon together, he made that painfully obvious.

“So I guess your excuse of “Tony I’m way too old for you, you’re just a kid” won’t work anymore huh? Now that I’m technically older than you.” Tony smirked, and moved to sidle up close to Peter.

The other boy squirmed away and laughed awkwardly, his face flushed. “Well we’re gotta get to class. It was nice seeing you Tony!” Peter grabbed Ned’s arm and dragged him away in a hurry. “What the fuck what the fuck what the fu-“ Peter mumbled to himself while rushing off.

“So Tony is hot now. That’s cool.” Ned said while being yanked through the halls to first period.

“Shut up please!” Peter whisper shouted. This whole situation was so weird. Yet he couldn’t help but wonder if Tony would actually want to date him, or if he just crushed on him before because he was an “older man”.

[zilabee]

A massive long post only I will care about, the best kind of post \o/ A meme about my fic, the wild and windy night.

1: What inspired you to write the fic this way?

It was meant to be a super quick fives times h/c fic to get all my favourite h/c scenarios into one fic, and the first chapters I wrote like that, super short easy sketches, and then I tried to write the last one just the same, but I realised something big needed to happen to make them actually see each other... and so I did a Terrible Thing to Paul.  And I did it without thinking, and then I realised that I didn’t know how to fix it, and having John show up and take care of him was basically useless because he wasn’t going to be okay and it was awful.  But I also couldn’t think how to change it, so I wrote eight longer less easy chapters trying to make him be okay, and then it was set in shape and I let it exist. 

2: What scene did you first put down?

The first one. I write things in their order. I mean I leave hard bits badly written and go back to them, but I write them badly before I go forward because otherwise I genuinely don't know what happens next.  How do you know what they’re going to do until they’ve done it?

3: What’s your favourite line of narration?

They are worn and grubby and beloved of the earth.

I don't know why but I really like it. I'm aware there are much more meaningful bits in my fic, and more poignant, but all the same.

I'm also fond of:

He is sitting on the floor and the floor is imaginary.

4: What’s your favourite line of dialogue?

"You're the one that broke it." "Ah, but it's your window." "Ah, but I haven't got any hands, you see."

I think being able to say that is why Paul needed John, more than any of the other things he needed him for.

5: What part was hardest to write?

The bit that I didn't write, where they talk about Klein and Apple and why it had all hurt so much. I stopped writing the fic for about three months when I got to that scene, because I kept writing myself into a corner where they actually had irreconcilable differences and kind of hated each other. Which was not my hope.

You know in the real world where they said they would have phone calls and it was fine until they would talk about business and then they hated each other? That. It made me doubt the existence of love or the possibility of reunion.

In the end I did get something I vaguely liked, about how it had been the first time they wanted different things, and acknowledging the pain of that on both sides, but I had to cut it out because it bogged them down further than I could deal with. I also think not really addressing it is more realistic than finding the words when they were both drunk and exhausted.

Of what stayed in, the hardest part was the ending (penultimate chapter, not the happy add-on) because I knew Paul wasn’t just going to be completely okay within a few weeks or something, and it’s odd writing fic that isn’t slash because the ending is usually just ‘THEY ARE TOGETHER AND HAPPY NOW’ but in this I just got them as close to committed to each other as I could, and was vaguely honest about the fact that they would probably fuck it all up as soon as we left.

6: What makes this fic special or different from all your other fics?

It’s longer than all my other fic by about 20000 words.

7: Where did the title come from?

I think subconsciously I might have written the entire fic to fit inside a long and winding road, but honestly it was just a lovely surprise when I went looking for a title and realised that Paul wrote me a song! 

8: Did any real people or events inspire any part of it?

Only the real people and events that are in it.

9: Were there any alternate versions of this fic?

Nope. What is this? Do people write ten versions of their fic and then pick the best?

10: Why did you choose this pairing for this particular story?

Because they were in it.

11: What do you like best about this fic?

I like the rhythm of it, and the stillness. I like that it’s finished and whole.  I really like that after George tells Paul the thing about how John is going to fall apart, they NEVER SPEAK AGAIN and Paul doesn’t even really explicitly think about George again.  I kept thinking I should fix that but it’s honestly one of my favourite bits, and closure would ruin it.  The way that Paul's messed up relationship with George isn't even something he thinks of as needing fixing, is so special to me.

12: What do you like least about this fic?

It’s odd because if you’d asked me at the time, I would have had a huge list of things I flat out hated about this fic.  HATED.  I can’t overstate how much I hated the entire thing when I was posting it, like I would post new chapters to tumblr and write huge essays in the tags about how awful it was and how much I hated it and how nobody should look at it - and then I’d delete them all before posting, because I know that’s annoying, and it never sounds sincere, it sounds like you’re begging for reassurance.  And I didn’t want reassurance.  I honestly just wanted to post my fic without anyone looking at it.  Although at the same time I genuinely really appreciated the comments because I could feel like even though it was an awful dreadful thing, people couldn’t tell.  So it was okay.

I think I’d read it and edited it so many times that I was pretty sure it didn’t mean anything at all any more, it had no emotion in it, and I’d cut out any of it that ever made any sense, it all seemed forced and stupid and bare and I couldn’t stand looking at it. I literally posted it because I knew that if I didn’t I would edit it forever, and I never wanted to look at it again.  I clearly remember thinking to myself: ‘well it’s never going to be good, you should just post it and then at least it’ll be dead’. 

But now I read it back and I really love it, I’m kind of proud of it, I think it’s quite sweet.  I guess... there are still small parts where I think the rhythm’s wrong, and I got stuck in John's headspace for a huge chunk towards the end and couldn't find a way around that which still annoys me.  But not enough to care or fix it.

13: What music did you listen to, if any, to get in the mood for writing this story? Or if you didn’t listen to anything, what do you think readers should listen to to accompany us while reading?

"Bill Haley's whole back catalogue is running through John now"

I don't really listen to music when writing usually, but with this Two Hound Dogs was in my head from the moment they got drunk and it was late and cold and there was this whole feeling of so much weather outside that it almost feels like weather inside, and Bill Haley's music was running through all of it, so I left him in it, because he seemed to want to be there. And I listened to Two Hound Dogs every time I touched it.  It's music from the years when John found Paul, so it fits that way - I'm aware John was not fond of Bill Haley, but I kind of liked that. And I didn't know at the time, but there's also that thing where Paul says he went to see Bill Haley once, and people read it as saying he met John there, so that makes it more nicely meaningful and less random.

14: What happens after the end of this fic?

I think John needs countryside as much as Paul does, so I think he settles into being a part of their life pretty well, and then when it’s too quiet spends weekends with the others or down in London, and eventually he probably comes back from one of those trips with his new fancy posh gallery owner boyfriend in tow, and introduces him at dinner and both John and Linda get to watch Paul navigate John having a boyfriend \o/  Happy days.  And then... I think they’re just sort of happy enough.  Paul would learn to make music using one finger, like overdubbing little bits of piano with each other, and creating acapella albums, and generally finding new ways to do whatever occurred to him.  And then electronic stuff would come in and he’d be all over that. 

15: Is there anything you wanted readers to learn from reading this fic?

No. Was my big angstfest of platonic soulmate reunion supposed to be secretly educational?

16: What did you learn from writing this fic?

That I should finish editing a fic before I start posting it. And that people who comment on chapter by chapter fic are just insanely kind, like wow.

[crackheadgeminibby]

Hi!! Are you receiving request? If you are can you write something about x reader making a little cameo during a Chris' interview? Please😁

unexpected appearance

pairing: chris evans x black!reader

warnings: language, age gap, fluff

word count: 1k

a/n: hey! sorry it’s so short but hope you like it:)

i do not consent to my work being copied in any way, shape or form or reposted on any other platform

not my picture

Before even opening your eyes, you feel the warmth of the sun on your body, and you hear the chirping of birds right outside of your window. You yawn and stretch your body under the covers before slowly opening your eyes. As you look around the room, you see that Dodger is sleeping at the end of your bed and that the bedroom door is closed. It was a bit odd since Chris and you always left all the doors in the house open to make sure Dodger could come and go as he pleased but you didn’t think too much of it.

You reach for your phone on the nightstand and look at the time: 11:27 am.

You smile softly as you try to remember the last time you had been able to sleep in that late on a weekday.

You had stayed up until 4:30 am last night as you were finishing your final project: you were officially done with school and you could not be happier.

You put your phone back on your nightstand and rub your eyes as you get up from the bed. You head to the bathroom attached to your bedroom and brush your teeth.

As you’re washing your face, you feel something wet on your leg. When your face is dry, you turn around and see that Dodger is looking up at you with his big brown eyes. You smile softly and open the door that leads to the backyard from the bedroom. You leave the door open to make sure that Dodger can come inside whenever he’s finished while you go prepare something to eat.

You head to your closet to find something to change into. You were kind of cold with only the t-shirt that you slept in, so you opt for taking one of Chris’ new shirts. You smirk as you remember the day he realized that it wasn’t Dodger stealing all of his shirts but you.

You throw your t-shirt in the hamper and put Chris’ shirt on. Dodger comes running back into the room as you’re buttoning up the two middle buttons of the shirt: you never really liked to button them all since it made the shirt tighter and less comfortable.

You close the door that leads to the backyard and head to the kitchen.

“Come on, buddy, let’s go eat.”

You get in the kitchen and give Dodger some food and fresh water before you start to get things ready to make some eggs. As you’re cracking eggs in a bowl, you realize that you still haven’t heard or seen Chris since you woke up. Knowing him, he had probably been working nonstop since he woke up this morning and had forgotten to eat.

“Chris?”

When you don’t hear anything back, you walk to the living room to see if he’s in there. You frown when you see that there’s no sign of him. When you turn around, you spot Chris’ computer sitting on the dinner table.

He was probably working and left to run some errands. As you’re walking back to the kitchen through the dining room, you see that Chris’ computer is on.

You roll your eyes as you see that. He always complained that his computer ran out of battery super fast and that it was always turning off in his face. When he had told you that, you told him that having his brightness to 100% and leaving the computer on all day didn’t help.

You look around for Chris’ charger because you just know that his computer would be turning off soon otherwise. You finally spot it in the corner of the dining room, so you bend down to pick it up. As you’re walking around the computer to plug it in, you hear a loud noise coming from the garage.

You frown as you wonder what it is: Dodger was still in the kitchen and Chris was supposedly out.

“Y/N! Y/N! Get away from my computer.”

You hear Chris’ voice get gradually louder.

“Jesus Christ, calm down, I’m just plugging it in because you forgot to, as usual.”, you reply while rolling your eyes.

“Stop! Don’t touch it!”

You plug in the computer and are about to snap at Chris but he comes into the dining room and drags you to the side of the dining table. You take Chris’ hand off your arm and frown at him.

“What the fuck is your problem, Chris? You need to chill.”

“I have an interview.”

“Yeah, I know. At 1pm, you told me that.”

Chris groans and points at the AirPods in his ears, “No, I have an interview right now. I just didn’t want to wake you up.”

You look at Chris with a confused expression as you point at his computer and say, “Oh…”

You look down at your half-naked body and your eyes widen as heat rushes to your face, “OH!”

You lean slightly towards the computer and that’s when you spot the little green light at the top of his screen.

“Oh shit.”

Chris nods slightly, “Yeah.”

Chris sits back down in front of his computer and you see him move some open windows around before you see a Zoom call pop up.

You were an unlucky person in general, but that was just… next level.

You walk back to the kitchen as Chris takes his AirPods out and puts a hand in front of his mouth, clearly struggling to not burst out in laughter.

You hear the people on the call faintly start talking again and some others start to laugh.

Chris bites his bottom lip and chuckles slightly as he says, “Yeah, I always forget to plug my computer in, so she always does it for me. Lucky man, aren’t I?”

You hear people laugh again and you feel your face heating up even more.

You see Dodger standing in the middle of the kitchen and bend down to pet him. You smile as you think that if people saw him, they would probably stop talking about you.

You smirk and point your finger at Chris as you whisper, “Hey Dodge, wanna go see Daddy?”

When he hears you refer to Chris, Dodger starts to wag his tail excitedly. You stand up and clap as silently as possible while you jerk your head in Chris’ direction.

Dodger runs to Chris and climbs up on his lap before he starts to lick his face. You instantly hear the people on the call start to aww at Dodger. While everyone’s attention is on Dodger, Chris turns towards you and smiles before mouthing, “I love you.”

You beam back at him and blow him a kiss while winking.

As you’re continuing to make the eggs, you think to yourself as you roll your eyes:

I’m never going around Chris’ stupid computer again.

[bosstoaster]

So. Hi.

Uh, I have no excuse for this, except that I've been playing MGS with the bestie and Metal Gear Solid 4 gave me feelings. About clones and the nature of humanity and how the constant grind of warfare and PTSD breaks a person down.

And MGS4 ends the way it does and I happen to have this clone lad in my back pocket who could really answer some of the final issues and at least be have a certain perspective and-

Yeah.

So, spoilers for the end of Metal Gear Solid 4 and general knowledge of the Don't Let's Start series required for maximum understanding.

To the one theoretical person who is interested in this: hi. Hope you like it.

“What are you doing?”

The question could be defensive. Two weeks ago, it would have been. When this strange traveler had been near literally dumped on them - yet another request from Campbell, to Otakon’s seething frustration - it had been another burden. Another job. Another round of bodyguard duty.

Mind, ‘keep a time traveler from being too obvious’ is one of the more interesting bodyguard missions he’s had. But still, Dave is officially retired. Dave is just plain tired. He’s supposed to be done. He’s supposed to not be a soldier anymore.

What else there is, he’s still not sure. But that was the goal.

But somehow, it hasn’t been a struggle. The past few weeks have seen their little unit go through a variety of temporary guests, and this odd figure is by far the easiest. No femme fatale bullshit, no massive medical issues, no demands.

Ryou Shirogane has been a model guest. Other than how often he runs his fucking mouth.

So Dave’s question isn’t suspicious in the ‘threat detection’ sort of way.

It is suspicious in the ‘what do you think you’re doing’ kind of way. The way Dave asks when he comes downstairs and finds Otakon and Sunny (and now Ryou, horrifyingly) taking up half the bottom floor of their little cabin with some mechanical monstrosity.

Ryou looks innocuous right now. He’s sprawled out on the couch - at six foot and change, his feet dangle over the arm rests. There’s that odd little tablet of his on his lap, which has a projected keyboard he’s been idly tapping on.

Nothing about that is worrisome. But the distant look in his eyes is.

Dave has seen that look on a lot of soldiers. He’s seen it in his own mirror.

Ryou barely flickers his eyes over. “Hurting myself,” he says dryly.

Fuck, Dave has no idea how to deal with this. Ryou does this, causally lobs the truth around with the grace and impact of a stun grenade. Dave has barely cared to acknowledge something as inconsequential as emotions, much less had success with other people’s. He tries with Otacon. He tries harder with Sunny (when he can).

What is he supposed to say to that?

‘Don’t’, is the first response to come to mind, but it feels nonsensical.

“Why?” Is what Dave manages.

(Why is also a word he’s not sure how to deal with. It’s never been his first instinct to question, just to do. He’s told a goal and he completes it. ‘Why’ is for other people to deal with. He’s starting to realize maybe he should think ‘Why’ sooner, but it’s far too late now.)

“Shits and giggles,” Ryou drawls back instantly, then seems to catch himself.  “No, that’s not true. But- do you want to know something that could be good or could be disappointing? Or is it not worth it?”

Ryou stares at him, earnest and direct. He seems to have no problem craning his neck on the arm rest to look up, and Dave distantly envies him that simple ability. Ryou is in his 20s, younger than even Jack. He has that strange, fluid prosthetic of his, but otherwise he’s young. Flexible. Painless.

Dave can’t remember what that feels like.

Finally, he thinks about the question that Ryou had asked. Thankfully, Ryou doesn’t comment on the pause, just watches with odd patience given his usual energy.

“Is this a future thing?”

“No?” Ryou draws out the word like he’s not sure. “Uh, I guess yes, ish. It’s a me thing. My past thing. Kind of a you thing?”

Dave’s brows rise up slowly. He doesn’t comment, just lets the silence hang.

“Yeah, yeah, the Colonel guy said not to talk about the future. But I’m not even officially part of the military in my own time, much less now, and he’s retired anyway, so frankly I don’t really give a fuck. It’s not like I’ve been really good about it. Sunny’s already picked up, like, 50 things from me that I really don’t think anyone in this time should know.”

“That’s terrifying.”

“I know.” Ryou grins then, wide and toothy. It falls away. “Honestly, I don’t think this is my timeline anyway. I think this is another dimension. I, uh- well. We can talk about that. If you want. But you guys are keeping me, and- agh.” Ryou throws a dramatic arm over his eyes. “I can help more. But if you don’t want me to, I won’t.”

There’s so much information - or rather, so many hints at information that have been cut off - that Dave honestly isn’t even sure where to start. Fuck, why isn’t Ryou babbling this to Otakon, who might have a chance to untangle it?

“What are you talking about?” Dave pauses, then frowns. “If something is coming...”

“I don’t know,” Ryou says plainly. “I can’t even tell you the timelines of what I know, and untangle that from whatever propaganda and rebranding happens years down the line. There’s, uh, blank spots in what I know about Earth history. For personal reasons. But I’m pretty sure there wasn’t a nanomachine surge that turned my Earth into a global warzone.”

“Lucky you,” Dave bites out. He hears but lets Ryou’s odd comments about history go. It’s not like he cared much about history class. A thousand things could have happened in the future to make learning history more difficult.

Ryou holds up his hands - one flesh, one gleaming silver metal. They’re identical in all but color and texture. “It’s not about the world, or anything important. It’s about me. And it could be about you.”

That stops Dave again. He doesn’t have a year left in him. But there is something memetic to him, something he’s trying to leave behind. Something that might affect Ryou’s life in the future.

“Sunny?” He asks, straightening up. 

“No,” Ryou says firmly, voice lowering. Gentling. Soothing, like Dave is a horse about to buck.

Dave bristles, but he’s heard Ryou use it before. Low conversations with Otakon, quiet, thoughtful ones with Sunny pressed against his side. This just seems to be how Ryou talks when he’s being serious.

“Then I have no idea what I have to do with anything.”

“I’m a clone too.”

Dave freezes. Stares. His hand goes to his hip, where there is not a gun and should be.

Ryou gives a weak smile and shrugs loosely. “I’ve been working with Sunny. She has access to all your files. And- I hear things.”

Dave continues to stare.

“So, that’s what I mean. I’m a clone and for... uh, not great reasons? With some- that’s what I’m asking. Do you want to know?”

I can help you, Ryou had said. I’m a clone too.

“What kind of help are we talking about?” Dave asks. His hand stays by his hip, less out of paranoid fear and more out of wish for the comfort of it.

It says bad things that he feels more comfortable with a gun in his hand than without.

He’s not supposed to be a soldier anymore. But a soldier is all Dave is. What’s left is-

Zero. Hah. 

Ryou meets his eyes, expression going flat. Deeply serious. He sees in a way that most people don’t. The closest is Otakon, who has nearly a decade of experience dealing with Dave.

Ryou has had two weeks. It’s eerie, to say the least.

Maybe it’s a clone thing?

But it’s not like Liquid - either version - had ever had a fuckin clue what Dave was really thinking. So maybe not.

Finally, Ryou digs into his pack. He pulls out a small tin and gives it a shake. Something small rattles within. “I was built with an expiration date,” Ryou says.

The familiar words impact Dave in the stomach, just as powerfully as if Ryou had stood and punched him with that metal arm.

“Not like- differently than you. It wasn’t a slow decline, not really. Cognitive failure. A release of chemicals, basically dementia. Then, after that, physical decline until organ failure.”

Ryou rattles all this off clinically, neutrally. A list of symptoms as if from a book. But his gaze is on Dave’s eyes, holding contact. Flickering over his face the same way Dave looks over rooms and maps on a mission. Finding every detail.

Dave has no idea what Ryou is seeing. His own face, the micro-signs of his expressions, are unknown territory to him. More so now, but true even before the advanced aging.

“It happened to- to other clones. But I’m broken in like ten different ways we know of. So it never actually started like it was supposed to and we don’t know if and when it’ll happen to me. Just that it’s in my genes and it’s supposed to. So I have this.” Ryou shakes the tin. “It’s gene therapy. It stops the breakdown process.”

Dave looks at the tin, head cocked. He wants to say ‘good for you’, wants to spit out the bitter feeling climbing up in him. Is knowing that clones in the future won’t be fucked up like him supposed to make him feel better now?

But Ryou had said this wasn’t a future thing. It was helping Dave now. So-

Wait.

“Those...?”

Ryou’s shoulders droop and he gives a hopeful little smile. “As these pills are? Probably not helpful to you. My defects are specific. Quiet calls it the Failsafe. One little tiny change. It took a genuine, once in a millenia genius to find the difference, but he did. But if this can help me with my genes, and you guys know what differences are messing with you...”

Ryou holds out the tin.

Dave does not take it.

“How are we supposed to do that?”

Ryou looks down at the tin, then shrugs. “Honestly? Not sure, I didn’t make it. The process of how it was developed is on here, though.” He taps his tablet, that odd little machine that was half his possessions when he was dropped off. “You’ll need a doctor. A specialist. And, uh, not to let Campbell know, I think. But it’s just a pill. Chemicals. It might help, or it might not.”

Hope, but the possibility of disappointment.

Fuck, Dave wishes he’d understood what Ryou was asking at the time. He might be in the least bit prepared for this.

He reaches out, then pauses. Sees his hand, the wrinkled skin, the bony fingers.

It’s been years, but still looks at his body and feels wrong.

Dave drops his hand. “Bit late now, isn’t it?”

“Not the best timing,” Ryou acknowledges. “But it could give you more time. I’m sure there are people who would appreciate that.” He looks past Dave out the window.

Outside, where Hal and Sunny are, burning through the endless energy a nearly eight year old has.

“And- can I just say? Everybody who you’ve talked to about this... the FOXDIE doctor, Liquid, EVA...”

Dave stares him down. “You’ve been reading.”

“I have a good memory,” Ryou chirps back, unrepentant. “And your original, too. All of them, to a one, either have reasons to tell you certain versions of the facts, or weren’t... well, frankly, I’m pretty sure Liquid didn’t know his ass from his elbow, genetically speaking.”

Dave snorts despite himself. Even so, he crosses his arms and stares down at where Ryou is still laying down. “Look at me.”

“You’re declining,” Ryou agrees easily. “I’m not a doctor, but that’s obvious. But- and, again, my memory is spotty on some topics. But aging is a process. It’s the slow breakdown from wear and tear. And-” He pauses, clearly frustrated with his own inability to describe his thoughts. No wonder, since it’s a first in the short time Dave has known him. “Are you aging fast, or are your symptoms reproducing advanced age?”

Dave’s brow furrows. His arms drop again, not less defensive, but simply more confused than that. “What?”

“Is it that your body is old so your organs are breaking down, or that your organs are breaking down and that makes your body act like it’s old? If we treated what’s ailing your body, would the new cells be like you’re 70 or whatever, or would they be like you’re...” Ryou pauses, nose wrinkling, then continues, “42.”

Dave really doesn’t like how well Ryou seems to know his information.

If the last two weeks hadn’t been fucking surreal, in terms of the bizare future shit that came out of Ryou’s mouth, Dave wouldn’t buy this story at all. It would be a trap.

But-

Dave has looked into the eyes of many, many liars.

Dave is less sure what the truth looks like. But he knows what conviction looks like, and Ryou’s got it in spades.

“I don’t know,” Dave says.

“Want to try and find out?” Ryou says. “Maybe you don’t want to try. Maybe the disappointment isn’t worth the hope. It’s up to you. If you don’t want to, I won’t mention this again. Even to Hal.”

Fuck, Dave hadn’t even gotten that far yet. If Ryou told this to Hal, he would be unstoppable. And the fight over it would be incredible.

Ryou is leaving this in Dave’s court, and seems absolutely sincere about that.

It’s an unexpected kindness. And not something anyone would do if this was a trap. Ryou seems to understand, genuinely, that Dave might be done with trying, even if it means a painful end.

Dave wonders how someone so young knows. He doesn’t want to know the answer. It was terrible on Jack. He doubts it’s better from Ryou.

“Things can be better,” Ryou says gently. “What’s happening now is what you’re used to. If you want to keep control of that, it’s fine. But you deserve the chance. You deserve the time. Not for anything in particular, but just to have and to experience things. You guys are going to travel the world, right? Why not have a chance to see it?”

Seductive. It’s not a word Dave uses lightly. He’s usually detached enough from the present that few things could tempt him away from what he already knows he wants - or, even more importantly, the mission.

The only other time Dave has been this tempted was when a familiar reedy nerd showed up in a far too thin jacket to this very cabin, teeth chattering too hard to properly explain why he was there. Then, later, getting the full story - the start to Philanthropy. 

Dave wants this.

That want casts a shadow - the shape of the want is the same size as the potential disappointment. If this doesn’t work-

If this is a waste, it is of Dave’s precious little remaining time. And, worse, he’s putting Otakon and Sunny through the same disappointment. Otakon had been so fucking ready to try every doctor, every avenue, and each time the lack of answers had hit him harder than Dave.

Being like this for several more years is tempting enough. It’s more time to see Sunny grow and make sure their little family is prepared when he’s gone.

But being there. Really being there-

Dave has never thought he’d live long. He’d always thought he would die sooner rather than later on the field. If it was in the service of Philanthropy or stopping the Patriots, that was better than he could have hoped. The alternative, once upon a time, had been drinking himself to death.

This-

Dave is 42. Considering how long Big Boss lived, how healthy he was before FOXDIE, he could double that.

42 years of being a solider.

With 42 more, maybe he has a chance of figuring out what else he can be.

Ryou just stares and holds out the medicine - his medicine, that he’s offering with no strings. If his arm is tired, he shows no sign of it. If he’s impatient with Dave’s long thinking process, he doesn’t show that either. He’s said his piece, and how he’s just... waiting.

Dave stares back.

He takes the tin.

“Thank fuck,” Ryou groans, all that quiet and seriousness falling away in an instant. Or, rather, covered back up under his usual frenetic energy. “I mean, your choice and all, but fuck, I’d feel so bad if you didn’t take it.”

“Glad to help,” Dave drawls, mostly on autopilot. He opens the tin, half convinced inside will be breath mints, and this is all a prank.

Inside are small, white pills. Smaller than Dave’s pinky. Barely more than aspirin.

They’re unmarked. Which, if these are made special for Ryou’s... clone gene problems, that does make sense.

“What happens if I take one now?”

Ryou pauses. “No fucking clue,” he says. “You won’t get my version of Failsafe, I guess? One of your genes gets threrapied into being more like Takashi’s?”

Dave eyes him. “Therapied.”

“Mhmm. Scientific term.”

“Are you sure you know better than Liquid did?”

“I think your average middle schooler knows better than Liquid, even now.” Ryou finally moves, sitting up properly on one of the cushions. He pats the other one. “So c’mon, chat with me.”

Dave eyes the spot that Ryou is enthusiastically swatting. “We’ve been talking.”

“We’ve been negotiating,” Ryou corrects primly. “Let’s talk. Mano a Mano. Clono a Clono.”

Dave nearly walks away then, just because of how much he doesn’t want to acknowledge that joke.

Instead, he sits. The ancient springs creak under his weight. Dave relates, his own back aching in a similar way.

“Here’s what I was doing before,” Ryou says, then drops the tablet into Dave’s lap.

Dave takes it, then turns it upside down, because he’s not sure what he’s looking at. A moment later, he returns it to the original orientation - he had it right, he just can’t read the language. Doesn’t even know what the language is. Maybe a cypher? “Am I supposed to recognize this?”

“Not yet. I’ll translate later. But this is me. My file. The entire process of my creation, and the documentation of my failures.”

Dave stills, because that’s how he’s trained to respond to being startled.

“I’ve never read it before,” Ryou admits, either ignoring or oblivious to Dave’s reaction. “Actually, I was locked out from it by my friends. Figured it was unhealthy for me to snoop into. Which, fair catch, it totally is. But it can probably help here too. There were lots of us. Hundreds.”

“Hundreds?” Dave repeats hollowly. His mind latches onto that rather than ponder the meaning of Ryou handing his entire creation to Dave with all the gravitas of a doodled on napkin. Logistics he knows. Logistics he can do. “That’s a lot of babies.”

“We didn’t stay babies long,” Ryou says. He uses his finger to scroll down farther on the screen, to more indecipherable text. But there’s a diagram and calculations as well. “We were aged up to match Takashi immediately. Then we were in pods - uh, stasis, basically - until they tested us or made tweaks so we’d match Takashi better.”

“More gene therapy?” Dave asks, mostly on autopilot. His brain is still working on the details of what Ryou is implying. How much room it would take to hold that many bodies, even if they were asleep. The resources to handle it. The facility alone must have been enormous. What was happening in Ryou’s version of the future that would make that worthwhile?

Ryou shakes his head, visible in Dave’s peripheral vision. “No. They did that during the original cloning process and tweaked as they made more. This was...” 

Ryou scrolls again, this time showing a picture of a young man - nearly identical to Ryou. He only has white hair at the bangs, rather than Ryou’s all over white tips - Dave recognizes the signs of an old dye job. He has the same deep scar over his nose, a similar prosthetic on the same arm. The man is unconscious and shirtless, spread out to show the many scars over his torso. The next picture is the same, but showing his back.

Dave has lived through a lot. He’s survived being shot more than anyone sane should have. He has scars from knives, from cattle prods (thank you, Ocelot), from as many types of bullets as there are. The prominent burn on his face is never going to fade.

This young man, barely in his mid-20s from the looks of him, looks like he was chewed up and spat back out. Possibly literally.

Acid burns. Heat burns. Electrical burns. Puncture wounds. Stabbings. Claw marks. Teeth marks.

Less than 25 years old. How?

Dave looks to Ryou to ask, and sees the scar on his nose. The prosthetic arm.

He’d been born and aged up. He hadn’t come by those features naturally.

They’d been cut into him. Literally. Physically.

Dave’s mind finally skips ahead, jumping past the logistics and functionality questions he’d used to ignore his own emotional response.

Dave was born in the image of a man he would come to kill.

Ryou was carved into the image.

Dave struggles with that knowledge, and more importantly, what he should do about it. Comfort him? Apologize? Neither of those do anything.

So Dave is left scrambling, and that leaves an opening for that creeping, always behind question.

“Why?”

“Haggar wanted me to be a sleeper agent. The original - Takashi Shirogane - escaped her. So she used the cloning project she’d been working on to make a new version of him. She was supposed to give me all his memories, make me identical, but then have her claws in me. I’d replace Takashi and not even realize it until the moment she turned me against his teammates.”

Finally, another ‘why’ question dawns on Dave. One that hasn’t occurred to him this whole surreal conversation.

Why are you telling me this?

The answer, belatedly, becomes clear.

Ryou is bearing his soul this way because he understands. Not just being a clone, which Dave never really wrapped his head around until he was forced to by his genes. He understands being synthetically created for a specific purpose, made in the image of someone as a replacement, as a tool of war and espionage.

Ryou is a blue rose.

“Didn’t really work,” Ryou continues on, and this time Dave is sure he’s oblivious to Dave’s reaction. He has to be - his eyes are down, his fingers are twisted in his lap. His leg has started to jiggle nervously, like Otakon does when he’s working himself up to a Talk. “I said I’m a failure. I was a test run of their wet works. The first physically functional body. So they gave me the slapdash version of the memories to not give me brain damage and threw me into a practical trial. But I didn’t die and- well, the place they left me wasn’t as isolated as they thought. I got help and got home, and we figured out what was happening. They let me stay and help fight back.”

Dave-

Dave has no idea what to do with that flood of information.

“Why?” He says. When Ryou flinches, he pauses, confused, and then clarifies. “Why go to all the trouble to make you? Who is Takashi Shirogane that makes him so important? Who wants to take him down so badly?”

Ryou blinks at him.

Then he grins. “Aliens.”

Dave scoffs.

Ryou’s grin grows wider.

“Seriously, who?”

“Seriously, aliens,” Ryou replies. “I’m not messing with you. Takashi is the leader of a group fighting against an oppressive empire of aliens. He was an astronaut who made first contact with the Galra when they captured the crew of the Daedalus, which is how he got fucked up like that. When he got out, he ended up- well. He joined a group who fight back against them. And now I do too.” Ryou brightens at that, purely and simply proud.

Dave wonders if he ever looked like that, in those early years of Philanthropy. Probably not. He can’t imagine that look on his face, young or old.

“You were cloned by aliens,” Dave repeats flatly, a habit he knows annoys plenty of people he works with.

“Yup,” Ryou says, popping the ‘p’. He nudges Dave with his prosthesis. “On a little moon base, with alien resources. So, you know, if you ever question your humanity, I’m kind of an authority.”

It strikes Dave anew that Ryou isn’t saying this as a mission briefing or just to say. He’s giving this personal, probably painful information for Dave’s sake. To help, by his own admission.

Dave has no idea what to do with that. No idea why anyone would, especially someone who is basically a stranger. No idea why anyone would bother for him in particular.

Another detail creeps through. “You live with Shirogane.”

“I do,” Ryou agrees. “And honestly, you can call him Shiro. Basically everybody does. Shirogane is a mouthful.”

“It’s fine,” Dave says, because he’s gotten used to plenty of long names in his time. He lets the tablet fall into his lap. “That... it’s okay?”

Ryou nods firmly. “It is,” he says. “That’s how we worked it out. I have his memories too, so it’s different for us. I get him. Better than anyone, because he doesn’t really let people in much. He was suffering and I couldn’t just let him be. It took a bit but... we’re brothers. He’s my brother.”

Brother. Big Boss had said the same thing. Dave can’t imagine. He’s had three different people with a possible claim toward brotherhood, and he feels nothing of the sort toward any of them. Liquid was genuinely his twin, but they knew each other for less than 24 hours before the real version of him died, and he was an enemy that entire time. Solidus was a name, then an enemy too. Big Boss was-

Well, that one is more complicated. Worse. 

Dave is happy for Ryou. He seems to have found peace in this way, a kind of family and happiness. Maybe if things had been different, or if they’d meet earlier... but he doubts it. Not so long as Liquid looked at Dave with jealousy, of all things, and Solidus with disdain.

“I’m glad,” Dave finally says.

“I am too. But I don’t think it says anything, either.” Ryou glances at him from the corner of his eyes. “It’s just- genetic lineage. Just because you’re related to someone doesn’t obligate you to have a relationship with them. I do have one with Takashi and I’m grateful for that. But it doesn’t mean anything outside of that. We just happen to also care about each other.”

Dave eyes him back - looking up, because Ryou is annoyingly fucking tall. “I’m not trying to guilt you.”

“I don’t think you are. But just in case. I don’t know you well enough to figure out what you’re thinking, so I’m covering my bases.” Ryou stretches out into the room, the same long-limbed sprawl that he had over the whole couch. “Let me know if you have more questions. Or if you want to talk.” 

“Don’t bet on it.”

“You say so, but I’m really good at getting people to talk to me about their feelings.” Ryou gives him a smile that would be pure sunshine if it wasn’t for the sharp edges. “It’s the feelings tax.”

Dave shudders, because he genuinely isn’t sure if he wouldn’t rather be tortured again.

Ryou only hums, smug and pleased. He clearly thinks he’s going to win out in this.

“Anyway,” Ryou says. “Want me to tell Hal, or do you want to?”

“You,” Dave says immediately. “You can explain it better. I don’t really understand.”

“I barely do, but I get it. I’ll do it. And if I’m being honest with you, I might as well be honest with everybody.” Ryou snatches back his tablet and closes out the first window, then opens up a new one. It shows a video as Ryou hands it back.

On screen, a series of... ships(?) fly together, and there’s a flash of light, and then- 

Seeing the bipedal robot, Dave’s first reaction is tension. Fear. This was supposed to be over, so how-

But then the details come through. No rail gun. No visible weapons that he can see at all, just a shield. There’s a flash, and then the robot has a sword, of all fucking things. That is on fire. Because why the fuck not.

This isn’t Metal Gear. This is something else. This is what REX was supposed to be from Otakon’s original plans.

This is a mecha.

(“Like in my Japanese Animes.”)

“This is one of the ways we fight that empire,” Ryou tells him, exaggeratedly chirpy. He’s already smug, clearly knowing he has Otakon by the short and curlies. “It does different things depending on who is inside and using the correct bayard. Mine gives it claws.” His chest puffs out with the pride of a little boy presenting his latest toy.

God, this kid is fucking young.

“You’re never going to get a moment’s rest from his questions,” Dave tells him.

“That’s okay, I like answering questions.”

“You like talking.”

“I do!” Ryou gives him a cheery smile and pops up to his feet with unselfconscious agility.

(Dave is trying not to think about how his body is going to react to sitting on this old couch for so long.)

“Going to join them?” Dave asks. He sinks back further into the couch, because if he’s going to suffer for sitting, it might as well be worth it.

Ryou looks out the window at the snow expanse of Alaska and frowns. “Nah, it’ll keep. Let them have fun. Besides, I’m not really a fan of the cold.”

Dave starts to nod, then frowns. “You’re in Alaska.”

“I don’t recall being asked my preference before I was carted off. Isn’t there a naval ship in Hawai’i or something? I’d have gone there.” Ryou glances back, then smiles softly. “I’m glad it worked out this way, though.”

Dave swallows, not sure how to respond to that. It looks sincere, and that makes it worse.

“It’s fine anyway. It doesn’t actually affect anything. I just don’t like it. That test I told you about was on an ice planet. I handle it, I just get disoriented sometimes. Forgive me if I’m a little loopy in the morning.”

“Sure,” Dave says, because what else can he possibly say. “We can get more thermals when we’re in town next.”

“That’d be nice.” Ryou’s soft expression suddenly snaps to that sly grin. “Do they have the kind with the butt flaps, or is that only in cartoons?”

“You’ll be thankful for the butt flaps when you have to shit at night,” Dave shoots back dryly, but he also... notices. The swap. The flip from soft to joking.

The habit isn’t familiar, but the abruptness is. Dave’s felt it himself, when he got dangerously close to something with feelings and emotional consequences, where people want something from him he doesn’t know how to provide. He goes from easy to tense, goes still in the face of a threat.

A very different adaptation, but maybe another thing they have in common.

“So where are you going?”

“Finishing something up for Sunny,” Ryou says. He glances back, then hesitates. “I can bring it here first, if you want. Parental approval and all.” He wrinkles his nose, like the idea is foreign and uncomfortable.

Dave can relate, and he’s the ‘parental’ in question. “Probably wise.”

“Sure.”

Ryou trots off, clomping his way up the stairs. Otakon got him house slippers which sit by the door, but after the first day he stopped using them. Dave guesses it’s because of the cold, if it bothers him so much.

When he comes back, it’s with a remote control - one that might have been cannibalized from Mk II’s original designs. And-

A tiny, but now recognizable robot.

“Didn’t you say that thing was a weapon?”

“The full sized version,” Ryou replies. “This one’s just a toy. I built one before, it’s a good distraction. I just want to do final tests before handing it over. Want to try?”

It turns out, ‘Mini Voltron Jr’, quickly renamed ‘Voltron Mk III’, can fly.

Dave isn’t totally sold on giving tiny thrusters to a kid’s toy, but he can’t deny it’ll make Sunny extremely happy. And Ryou demonstrates their safety by having one take off from his bare, natural palm, so it can’t be that bad.

That’s how Otakon and Sunny find them later - shoulder to shoulder on the couch, as Ryou coaches Dave into getting Voltron Mk III to do barrel rolls.

“What’s this?” Otakon asks, at first wary. But as he realizes what he’s looking at, it fades to genuine amusement.

“A surprise,” Ryou chirps. He stands and gestures for Sunny to replace him. “Here, Snake’s gonna show you how to fly Voltron.”

Dave gives Ryou a flat look for landing him with that particular responsibility. “Sure,” he finally says.

“Voltron?” Sunny repeats, artlessly awed and she takes in the toy.

Ryou’s expression softens all at once - something about the name or how Sunny said it has struck a chord. “Yeah,” he breathes back, then seems to shake off the effect. “And me and your Uncle Hal will have a boring adult talk.”

“Will we?” Otakon asks dryly. His eyes narrow, though his tone and posture stay friendly - probably for Sunny’s sake.

“It’s a good idea,” Dave says, catching Otakon’s gaze. He gives a firm nod. “He ran it by me first but he can explain better.”

“Oh.” Otakon blinks, looking between them. “Okay.” He draws the word out just slightly, but does seem reassured by Dave’s words. “Let’s talk then.” As they go, Dave’s still thankfully sharp hearing catches his soft tones. “If this is about building more of those things, I’m not really in the mech business.”

“Buddy,” Ryou says, giving him a hearty pat on the back. Otakon, to Dave’s pleasure, doesn’t even stumble. “I don’t really need your help with that. Or permission. But let’s talk.”

Dave watches them go, heart pounding in his throat. Like this is a threat. It kind of is. The point of no return. After this, there will be no protecting Otakon. No protecting himself.

But the potential rewards are worth it.

“How do you make it spin?” Sunny asks, reaching for the controls. Dave hands it over and winces as she immediately sends the toy careening into the wall, but it seems okay. The wall less so, but eh.

The point of no return.

For once, maybe that can be a good thing. For once, the future can be something to look forward to instead of dread.

At least, that’s the hope.