#i wrote this in like 5 minutes this may make no sense | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

book-place · 1 year ago

Text

The Avoiding Act

Warnings: unhealthy studying methods, let me know if I missed any :)

Pairings: Avengers x reader platonic

Request: Hey! Can you do MCU x Teen!reader, whose been feeling stressed out lately (I have exams coming up) and she also struggles with mental health. She constantly avoids the team because she knows they'll tell her to sit down and take a break, but one day they forcefully make her sit down and talk to them, and they're all telling her to take it easy and that they believe in her or something, and she's starts tearing up because she's never had anyone tell her reassuring things before she met the team, and one of them (preferably Bucky, Loki, Tony, or Steve) just hugs them? And like they end up watching Disney movies or something, and she falls asleep on Tony or Steve? Thank you!

Requested by: @wolfmoonmusic

*not my gif*

Summary: Your team hasn’t really seen you in over a week, and they start to grow worried

A/N: This isn’t my best work- but I don’t think it’s too bad; also I wrote this forever ago and just forgot to publish it

Please don’t plagiarize my work, you may reblog if you like but I’m asking that you don’t steal my hard work

You practically had it down to a point by now. You had memorized your entire team's schedule in such a way that you could avoid them perfectly.

Steve was using the training levels at exactly 5:05 every morning, being the first one up- besides you. That was easy, just avoid all of the workout rooms. Bucky was sometimes up at that time as well, but he just stayed in his room.

Up next was Nat and Bruce. Nat would start off her day on the balcony of either her room or the one connected to the living room. Bruce would make a beeline for his lab right away and hide in there for a while. So naturally, you just skipped out on all three of those places.

That’s when it got complicated. The late sleepers were Sam, Tony, and Clint. Meaning, their schedules were unpredictable. But that was only in the sense that you didn’t know which time they would get up. All three of them would head straight to the kitchen as soon as they got up though, so all you had to do was make sure that you weren’t in there any later than 10:00.

That left your room, which you never stayed in because then they would be able to find you, and any other of the many empty rooms left in Avengers Tower.

Some might call you paranoid, but you made sure to switch rooms every two hours, that way you weren’t in one place long enough for them to find you there.

The reason you were avoiding your team?

It wasn’t becuase you didn’t want to see them or loved them dearly, it was simply becuase you needed to study.

To outsiders, that would seem like a weird reason to be hiding from your loved ones, but not when it came to you.

When you studied, you studied.

You hardly ever took breaks- not even to eat and sleep.

And if your team knew this, there wasn’t a doubt in your mind that they would try to make you take a break. To take care of yourself.

You couldn’t have that happening, the biggest exam of the year was in three days and taking a break was not an option.

It was a day like any other in the past week, you were in a random conference room on the seventh floor, going on the eighth day without seeing your team for more than five minutes a day.

Like normal, you were hunched over a textbook, eyes sweeping back and forth along the pages as you eagerly tried to take in any bit of knowledge you could come upon.

It was well past dinner- not that you had eaten other than a granola bar early in the morning before the late risers made it to the kitchen- and your team, six floors up, were sitting around one of the many living rooms.

“So you’re telling me that nobody saw Y/N today?” Steve asked, standing in the middle of the room with his arms crossed over his chest, eyebrows creased with worry.

Clint and Sam shook their heads in sync from their respective positions on the couch in front of him. Bucky, who was leaning up against a wall with his arms crossed, repeated the gesture.

Nat and Tony both let out identical signs at this, the redhead running a hand through her hair.

“It’s been like this all week,” Bruce spoke up, concern lacing his tone, “I’ve hardly seen her for more than two minutes a day. Whenever I try to find her- she’s not anywhere I’d think she would be.”

“Same,” Natasha piped up, “It’s almost like she’s avoiding us.”

“You don’t think… she’s actually avoiding us, do you?” Sam asked, leaning forward in his seat.

Steve ran a hand down his face and sighed, “Why would she avoid us, though?”

Even Tony had the decency not to interject with one of his normal, snide comments. Instead, he announced, “JARVIS, tell me where she is.”

The team's eyes all widened in sync, clearly none of them had once thought of using the AI system to find you.

Instead of boasting about how he was just smarter than they were like Tony normally would, he just kept his lips in a thin, closed line and awaited the answer.

“Miss. L/N is currently occupying conference room number seventy two, on the sixth floor.” JARVIS’s voice rang out through the room, and everyone was on their feet in an instance.

Within the last week, every one of them had gone out of their way to try and look for you, never knowing where you were or if you were alright.

The door to your study room flew open and you let out a small yelp of surprise, jumping at the unanticipated arrival of every member of your team.

It was silent for a moment after they all pushed and shoved past each other to stumble into the room, as you all just stared at each other.

“O-oh, hey guys,” You stuttered, letting out a small, nervous chuckle, “What’re you doing here?”

“Why’ve you been avoiding us?” Sam blurted out without answering your question.

Multiple people face palmed and let out slight groans at his bluntness. Bucky- who was standing closest to him- slapped him upside the head. With his metal hand.

That had to hurt.

The question immediately made you defensive, and you crossed your arms, visually crawling back into your shell.

“I’m not avoiding you,” The words weren’t as firm as you would’ve liked.

“No?” Tony asked with a singular raised eyebrow, “Then why have we only seen you for five minutes in total this week?”

You shrugged, “I’ve been busy!”

“Busy doing what?” Clint prompted.

That was when you fell silent.

Your team didn’t say anything, though. They just kept staring, awaiting your reply.

The silence dragged and dragged, suffocating the room and everyone in it until you couldn’t take it anymore.

“Studying,” You finally said softly.

Another silence followed, but this one was broken by Bruce, “And how many breaks have you taken to take care of yourself?”

They all knew you so well, they knew what your study habits were like. How unhealthy they were.

You shrugged stiffly, moving your eyes to face anywhere but where they stood.

“N/n,” Nat sighed, moving over to you, “You need to take care of yourself. This isn’t healthy.”

Steve moved up beside her, watching as you still avoided looking at any of them, tears filling your eyes, “We only say this because we care about you.”

His words were what finally made the first tear slip down your face.

“I know,” You whispered.

With a sigh, Steve opened his arms and wrapped them around you in a much needed hug.

Almost instantly, you broke down, relaxing in his arms and crying and crying until there were no tears left.

Someone from around you gently moved a piece of hair out of your face and someone else rubbed your back comfortingly.

When you finally opened your eyes, you were surrounded by your team- the people that cared for you more than anyone- who all wore soft expressions.

“Let’s take a break,” Steve whispered, stopping down to place a kiss on the top of your head, “You deserve it.”

Sniffling slightly, you nodded and allowed your team to lead you away and to one of the living rooms.

Tony had announced that you would all be having a movie night and you would be the one to pick what to watch.

Normally, there would be a lot fighting and bickering about what movie- but nobody said a word this time.

Some went off to get snacks- others getting blankets- as you all spread out around the room comfortably.

You ended up between Steve and Nat on the couch, the ladder absentmindedly running her fingers through your hair whilst you picked what you wanted to watch.

In the end, you settled on an old Disney classic, and we’re able to settle in while the opening music began to play.

“Thank you, guys.” You said softly to the room, truly meaning it.

“No need to thank us, n/n. We’re here for you. No matter what.” Steve said from beside you.

By the time the credits rolled around, you were fast asleep, breathing steadily with your head resting against Steve’s shoulder.

Said man smiled down softly at you, making sure to keep his movements to a minimum as you got some much needed sleep, surrounded by your loved ones.

We are Groot 🤎- @lovanitu @jvdethirlwall @ineedmorefanfics2 @sambucky8 @spidyyparker @irethepotato @femalemarvelself @mukbee @its-hell @ip747 @i-writes-things @popfishjr @mitsuki-murakami @mythixmagic @toecrust69 @etanordoesbullsh1t @wolfmoonmusic @nutellani @hyunzrii @scarthefangirl

547 notes · View notes

inside-lees-mind · 9 months ago

Note

hello!! could i ask for a hyoga x overworker s/o?

reader tries their best to impress hyoga while they learn to use the kudayari, and shows him their progress quite excited to hear his opinion; however, their hands are bruised and damaged from using the spear continuously without gloves, as the kept training day and night. hyoga didn't like this.

it's that one hyoga anon again! tysm for writing my request last time, and feel free to make my requests any way you want! i'm so down bad for this man i could read anything about him, honestly 😭😭

Hyoga’s S/O Overworking Themself

Okay. I wrote about like when you do something so much, you can’t do anything that isn’t it. Like that time I played 2048 so much I played it in my dreams too. Or how I play just dance so much, I have to pull myself away from it and I dream of playing it too.

I honestly think if Hyoga likes you, he’s like meanly nice. If that makes sense. He’ll give advice in shit in a harsh tone. Sometimes, it’s hard not to throw in insults but I think if he respects somebody, he’s not the type to call them anything other than proper so…

Tirelessly, for days now, you’ve worked on your form, technique, style, everything. You can’t get yourself to settle down to sleep because every time you try, you just feel the ghost of the spear in your hands. When you do close your eyes to try, you see yourself trying again. If you fall asleep, even for a second, you dream of sparring.

So you stand throughout the night, practicing on a dummy you built to practice on. You spin the spear, your hands tiring now. Sure, the bamboo doesn’t spin, but moving the spear to spin is wearing on your hands with every hit. Your grip is growing weak. Not to mention, you’re undeniably tired, but you just can’t stop.

Sometimes, when you think to stop, maybe finally being able to focus on something else, you think about what Hyoga would say if you do bad when you spar with him the next day. You’ve got to get it perfect unless you want your boyfriend to be disappointed. He takes so much pride in the Owari Kan style.

Even if it’s hard to tell, he takes so much pride and is so happy that his s/o is learning the technique from him. You can’t mess that up for him.

The next day, after less than 2 hours of sleep, you meet up with your boyfriend for a sparring session. It’s early morning, the sun is just now rising behind him. You’ve been sparring for a few minutes now, but the sun helps him realize something. You have bruises littering your body. Bruises, callouses, cuts cover your hands. A finger or two on each hand was wrapped up in bandages. Between that and the sunken in eye bags from your lack of proper sleep, he can’t believe he didn’t notice.

He waits until the end of what you were both currently working on. He tells you to just take a water break, but he watches you carefully the entire time. When you go to move back for your spear, he calmly stops you.

“If you can’t do it properly, don’t do it at all.” He says, smiling behind his mask. The look on your face tells him he shouldn’t have worded it that way. He’s not the kind of man to backtrack and stumble over his words to correct himself or anything, so he calmly adds, “Take a break. Proper rest is important.”

You finally realize what he means as color returns to your face. “But I n—”

“No. How much sleep did you get?” He asks, taking the spear from you. He stares at you, expression almost blank. It’s hard to tell what he’s thinking, but a part of you thinks he may be… worried?

“About 5 hours.” You shrug.

“Don’t lie.” He warns, which draws a groan from you. You look up, meeting his eyes briefly.

“I think a bit less than 2?” He simply nods at this.

“And how many times have I told you to wear gloves?” He asks, staring blankly.

“Several.” You mutter.

“And that’s for a reason. Yuzuriha can make you gloves.” He says sternly, eyes opening and flicking up to meet yours. “That’s the proper way.”

“Yes. I’ll do it the proper way.” You smile, finally realizing what he’s doing. Sure, it’s unconventional, probably rude in most people’s eyes, but that’s the softest he gets. Or maybe not. You can’t help but wonder if he’s got a super soft side you won’t get to see until you’re like married or something. That’s a question for later though, you confer as he tells you to go lie down and get some rest.

58 notes · View notes

en-dazed · 2 years ago

Text

between pages - lee heeseung

PAIRING: heeseung x reader

GENRES: bookshop au, bookseller!heeseung x reader!reader (lol), fluff, slight angst?

PROMPT: in which reader meets heeseung who works at a bookshop

WORD COUNT: 6,563 words.

A/N: i wrote this within 12 hours and it’s not proofread but i just had to bring it to life. this is my first fic on here and also my first fic in years so be very brutally honest on what you think about it <3

At the corner of the street, looking slightly out of place beside the pharmacy next door, is a bookshop. Weathered brick walls and ivy vines creeping up the side made anyone who passed by it gaze longingly at the whimsical place. The bell on the door jingles in delight when you push through the door, signalling your entrance into the world of literary wonders. The aroma of old and new books intermingle in the air in a way that fills all your senses and makes you never want to leave the place.

It was on the 3rd day of December you had wandered in there, feeling as if you had been beckoned inside by the bookshop itself. You had been on your way home, tired after a long day. It was the same path you had taken everyday for the past 2 years. It was the same bookshop that you had passed by everyday. And yet, there had been something about it today that had made you look twice - your gaze not moving away on the second glance.

You walked through the rows and rows of wooden shelves filled with books, noting the meticulous way it was organised with all genres having its own place. You didn’t know what you were looking for. You didn’t know if you were even looking for something in particular.

“May I help you?” A soft voice spoke from behind you. You turned around to face the bookseller. For a minute you were at a loss for words. The guy in front of you couldn’t have been much older than you. His warm doe eyes were slightly covered by his dark hair, the bangs falling over his forehead. He wore a smile on his face, soft and inviting. He was breathtaking.

Caught off guard by his presence, you couldn't find the right words at first. He noticed your gaze, and his smile grew wider, making your cheeks flush.

You looked towards the shelves again, pretending to look around as you answered his question. “I’m not quite sure what I’m looking for.” You admitted.

The bookseller nodded understandingly. “Allow me to make a suggestion then.” He traced the spines of a nearby shelf, looking for a specific title. After a brief moment, he carefully plucked down a hardcover book and extended it towards you.

“I don’t know what books you like,” He started as you accepted the book in his hands. “But I hope you like this one. It’s one of my personal favourites.” He smiled radiantly at you.

You looked at the book in your hand, the title somewhat familiar but not quite known to you. Your curiosity was piqued, both by the handsome bookseller and the book he had given you.

“I’ll take it.” You decided without a second thought.

“I’ll ring you up at the front then.”

5 minutes later you walked out the shop with the book tucked under your hand - for which you had paid a ridiculously discounted price for, at the insistence of the cute bookseller. You had walked in with no guidance other than your curiosity and you had walked out with thoughts of the dark haired guy surrounded by books swirling in your head.

You had a feeling you would be coming back here again.

There was an almost magnetic pull from the book as soon as you had come home that day, urging you to devour the words inside it. And so you did.

You spent 2 days using every waking moment to read, unable to make yourself stop. It was only when you closed your eyes at night that your thoughts shifted. Now, your mind was filled with thoughts about the bookseller. You mentally kicked yourself for not having asked him his name.

He had been spot on with his recommendation. Within an hour of you turning the last page of the book, you showed up at the bookshop slightly out of breath.

“Do they ever find each other again?”

The bookseller looked up from the book he was reading behind the counter, surprised at the sudden intrusion. You stood impatiently, waiting for an answer.

“You finished the book.” He was smiling now, putting down the book after carefully sliding in a bookmark.

You nodded passionately. “I needed to know. Do they ever find each other again? He lost her at the end.”

The guy seemed to ponder the question for just a beat before he answered. “I’ve read the book from front to back more times than I can count but even I don’t know the answer to that.” He admitted begrudgingly. His voice held a touch of hesitation as he continued. “But I like to think they do. I like to think that he finds her between the pages and falls in love with her all over again.”

You listened intently to his response. The way he spoke, with a clear love for the book and genuine affection for the characters lit a spark inside you. There was a flicker of something in his eyes, a glimmer of hope that mirrored your own yearning for a happy ending.

"I like that thought," you whispered, a smile tugging at the corners of your lips. "Falling in love between the pages... It's a beautiful notion."

He returned your smile, a genuine warmth emanating from him. “Books have a way of capturing our hearts don't they?”

A comfortable silence enveloped the both of you, filled with unspoken emotion and understanding. It felt as if the bookshop itself held its breath, watching the connection between the two strangers grow.

Breaking the silence, you mustered the courage to ask the question that had been lingering in your mind since your first encounter. "By the way, I never caught your name."

He chuckled softly, a sound that felt like sunlight if sunlight could be heard. “You’re right, we never introduced ourselves did we? My name is Heeseung.”

“Heeseung” The name rolled off your tongue easily, a sense of relief to be able to put a name to the face that had haunted you for the past 2 days.

“I’m Y/N. Thank you for introducing me to this book.” You said sincerely. “I think it’s become one of my personal favourites as well.”

His eyes gleamed at you, clearly happy his recommendation had been a hit. “You’re very welcome Y/N.”

He made his way out of the counter, moving towards you. “Perhaps I could show you more books that I love?”

“Yes, please.”

With every book you discovered at the hands of Heeseung, your bond grew stronger. You grew comfortable in his presence, conversations flowing effortlessly and laughter filling the air. The bookshop smelled sweeter to you whenever Heeseung smiled and Heeseung could’ve sworn the shop lit up whenever you entered.

Amidst the bookshelves and the scent of inked pages, a new story had begun - one of you and Heeseung. It was a tale written not on pages but etched in stolen glances and lingering touch of hands reaching for the same book. The bookshop became a haven for you, a place where two souls intertwined.

Heeseung was a university student just like you. A Literature major, he had confirmed with a laugh. You couldn’t imagine him being anything else. You learned that the bookshop was owned by his parents.

“I grew up between these shelves.” He had told you one day, talking softly as if he was telling you a secret. “I don’t think I remember anything else other than books and the way it felt to discover new worlds.”

You felt your heart gravitate towards him a little bit more with every new piece of information.

You discovered that when Heeseung was 12, he had pretended that the back door was the entrance to Narnia. He would tell you stories about how he would walk back there alone, opening the door and always hoping that one day there would be a whole nother world on the other side of it. The thought of a young Heeseung with bambi eyes filled with hope made you smile.

Heeseung couldn’t understand why he felt such a pull towards you. Your visits to the shop had long changed from just a quest for new books to just visits for him. You found solace in his company as he did in you.

On one such evening, you sat besides him at the counter. You held a book on your hand, except it wasn’t a book that belonged to the store or to Heeseung. A frustrated sigh escaped you as you scratched out the words you had previously written on the book. Heeseung watched sympathetically.

This had become routine. You would come to the shop with your assignments, claiming that the peace and quiet inside helped you work with a clearer mind. Secretly, you also wanted to spend more time with Heeseung, even if you had other things to do.

Heeseung loved to watch you work. He had observed you unknowingly for so long he could tell all your frustrated little quirks, the way you would sit up straight when you solve a problem and even the way you would tap the pen against the edge of the book as you thought things through.

Your hair slipped past your ear onto your face and without a second thought, Heeseung grabbed the strand and pulled it behind your ear once more as if it was so natural to touch you. He only realised what he had done when he felt you freeze under his touch.

Immediately, he pulled his hand back. “Sorry.” The word rushed out, his hands suddenly warming up from the memory of your touch.

You looked up and he could see that your cheeks were red as well. “It’s okay.” You mumbled. You looked away, unable to make eye contact with him without feeling like you were going to burst into flames.

There was a moment of silence before your words slipped out, so quiet he could barely hear it, so quiet he wasn’t even sure if he was meant to hear it.

“I liked it.”

Heeseung smiled.

On Saturday’s Heeseung was off. You had found out when you had dropped by unannounced and was met with an unfamiliar blonde haired boy at the counter instead of the familiar face you were used to.

“May I help you?” The boy had asked politely, reminiscent of the way Heeseung had uttered the same words to her the first time they had met.

“Is Heeseung here?” You asked, slightly nervous. Had something happened to him?

“Heeseung is off from work every Saturday. I’m the one here when he’s not.” The boy looked at you curiously as if studying you. “How do you know him?” He asked, inquisitively.

“Im his…,” You trailed off not knowing what to label yourself. You had long passed the relationship of a mere customer or stranger. You couldn’t call yourself acquaintances, you knew him much more intimately than that. You had never even exchanged numbers.

“I’m a friend.” The unsure tone of your voice made the boy look at you suspiciously.

“I’m Jake.” He introduced himself. “I’ll let Heeseung know you were here if you give me your name.”

You shook your head aggressively. “No, it’s okay. I’ll just come back later.”

Before the boy could respond you walked out of the store, disappointment settling in your stomach.

The next time you ran into Jake was when he had walked in while you and Heeseung were laughing together between the shelves. Heeseung had been standing close to you, his head so close that you could smell the scent of his shampoo.

“A friend huh?” Jake’s voice had shocked the both of you, jumping away from each other as if you had been caught doing something you shouldn’t. Jake had laughed at the way you both reacted, running away as Heeseung chased him around the store - a poor attempt at hiding how flustered he was.

Jake slowly wiggled his way into your days together, the duo turning into a group of 3. He went to university with Heeseung, he had explained to you. “Although I'm into more non-fiction books unlike him.” He laughed.

As a Physics major, he was deceivingly smart. He had a knack for explaining complex concepts in a way that made them easy to understand, often engaging Heeseung and you in conversations about theories about the origins of the universe, the nature of black holes, and the possibilities of time travel. His enthusiasm was infectious, and you found yourself captivated by his explanations. Heeseung - ever the attentive friend - soaked up the information like a sponge. He asked insightful questions, allowing Jake to delve more into the topic excitedly. You knew that he did it because it made Jake happy and the thoughtfulness of his actions made your heart flutter.

With Jake, you found more sides of Heeseung that you hadn’t seen before. He was slightly louder, less reserved and rougher with Jake than he ever was with you.

Slowly, you began to show up on Saturdays as well. You found yourself growing closer to Jake, developing a genuine friendship beyond your connection through Heeseung. He became someone you could confide in, someone to vent to when you were having a bad day. It wasn’t long before Jake figured out your very thinly veiled crush on Heeseung.

“Just tell him already.” He groaned at you, watching as your eyes followed Heeseung as he restocked the shelves.

You let out a sigh, the fear of rejection hanging heavy over you. “I don’t know Jake. What if it ruins our friendship?”

Jake couldn’t believe how stupid you could be. “If you don’t see the way he looks at you then you’re really blind.”

You didn’t want to believe him. You didn’t want to get your hopes up. But when Heeseung caught you eye across the room and gave you a smile, you couldn’t help the hope that blossomed in you.

When you imagined Heeseung, it was always at the bookshop. You couldn’t imagine his existence outside of those four walls. So when Heeseung asked you out to go to a movie, it took you by surprise.

“You know there’s a movie adaptation of the first book I recommended to you.” He had started, nervously running his hands through his hair. “We should go see it.” He looked at you, a hint of vulnerability in his eyes. “Together.”

You felt like your heart had dropped to your stomach. The book in your hands slipped, falling to the ground as your hands became shaky from nervousness. Heeseung leaned down to pick it up, the same time as your hand reached to grab it as well. For a split second, your hands brushed his. Quickly, you let go, letting him pick up the book.

Wiping your suddenly sweaty hands on your skirt, you nodded yes at him. “I’d love to.” You spoke, hoping your voice wouldn’t shake.

And just like that, his eyes seemed to shine - as if the stars inside couldn’t help but celebrate his small victory.

On the day of the movie ‘date’ (you weren’t quite sure what to call it exactly, although Jake was very insistent on calling it a date), you spent the whole day texting Jake in panic.

Y/N: WHAT DO I WEAR?????

Ikeu: i guarantee you he will drop down to his knees as soon as he sees you no matter what you wear

ikeu: stop panicking this isn’t the first time you’ve seen him

You knew he was right. Heeseung wasn’t the type to care what you wore, he never had been. But you made a special effort to dress nicely, smoothing down the wrinkles on your shirt as you finished getting ready.

By the time Heeseung had texted you that he was outside you were ready on the outside but felt like a pile of goo on the inside. Butterflies dancing in your stomach, you walked out the door of your house and towards Heeseung who stood next to his car outside.

Heeseung looked the same as he always did, except his dark hair was now pushed back revealing his forehead. His eyes lit up at the sight of you, widening slightly as he took in your appearance.

“You look beautiful.” He whispered.

You felt shy under his gaze, as if you were once again a teenager out on your first date with the boy you liked. But this was Heeseung and soon after you got in the car, you relaxed.

You had thought that things would be different without the inked pages surrounding you but you were quick to realise that it wasn’t the bookshop that made Heeseung special - it was him that made the bookshop shine.

Heeseung made you wait in the car after he had parked, running around quickly and opening the door for you. “I can’t let a pretty girl open the door on her own.” He said flirtingly.

You rolled your eyes at him jokingly, trying to disguise how much he was affecting you. The movie theatre was half full when you walked in, the movie almost about to start. Heeseung glanced at you as the lights dimmed, his eyes filled with excitement and anticipation.

The movie soon started, the familiar story you had read before unfolding before you. The characters were just as you had imagined them to be. You sneaked a peek at Heeseung who seemed to be just as entranced by the movie as you were.

As the ending of the movie grew closer, you realised that the story was going in a different path.

“They didn’t lose each other.” Heeseung whispered in astonishment as the movie neared its end, with the main characters still together. The alteration from the original story had caught both of you off guard, but instead of disappointment, there was a sense of intrigue in the air.

“That was unexpected," you commented, breaking the silence as the credits rolled on the screen.

Heeseung chuckled softly, his eyes sparkling. "Yeah, it definitely took a different turn. But you know what? I kind of like it," he confessed, his voice filled with enthusiasm. “It’s nice to see a happy ending.”

A smile tugged at the corners of your lips as you nodded in agreement.

“I think you were right.” You said, as you both walked out the movie theatre together.

Heeseung looked at you, a look of confusion on his face. “About what?”

“I think they did find each other between the pages. And they fell in love again as they had before. I think they would’ve fallen in love with each other even if they had met in a 100 different lifetimes.”

When you stopped talking, you noticed that Heeseung had fallen behind. He had stopped just a few steps behind you with a strange look on his face.

"Heeseung?" you called out, concern lacing your voice.

Heeseung blinked a few times, as if trying to gather his thoughts. Finally, he let out a deep sigh and ran a hand through his hair, a gesture you had come to associate with his moments of uncertainty.

“Y/N I -“ He began, his voice tinged with anxiousness.

You waited with bated breath, unsure what he was about to say.

“Can I hold your hand?” He blurted out suddenly.

Startled by his sudden request, you blinked a few times, momentarily taken aback. You could feel your heartbeat quicken, and a mixture of emotions swirled within you—excitement, nervousness, and a tinge of vulnerability.

The reality of the situation sank in. This wasn't just a casual outing between friends anymore. There was an unspoken shift in the dynamics, a hint of something more. Your mind raced, trying to process the significance of his request.

You smiled softly, holding out your hand in response. Without a word, without any hesitation - Heeseung took your hand in his. Fingers intertwined, he stepped closer to you, eyes on your hands. It was a comforting touch, a warmth that spread from the tips of your fingers to your whole body.

Heeseung was looking at you now, a fierce look in his eyes. You felt like fleeing at the intensity of his gaze but you held your ground, not moving your eyes away from him.

“Can I kiss you?” His voice was even softer than before, barely a whisper.

His question hung in the air for a breath too long, as if even the wind had stopped to listen for your answer. Your mind could no longer comprehend what was happening, having short circuited minutes ago. It was your heart that led you when you nodded, wordlessly accepting his request.

Heeseung moved without hesitation, as if he had been waiting for this for so long that he just couldn’t wait any longer. The world around you seemed to blur as Heeseung leaned in, his gaze locked with yours. A surge of electricity rushed through your body when his lips met yours, soft and tender. It felt like a culmination of all the unspoken words, stolen glances, and shared experiences that had brought you to this point.

He kissed you longingly and sincerely. He kissed you and you forgot that there was ever anything besides the feeling of kissing him because how could there be any feeling as good as this?

When he finally pulled away there was a change in him. His smile was certain, confident. Even as you wordlessly walked back to his car, he didn't let go of your hand. He dropped it for just a second when you got in but as soon as you were seated in the passenger seat next to him, he took your hand in his.

Friends had shifted to something more.

You quickly grew accustomed to the way Heeseung’s lips felt on yours and the way your hands intertwined. The following weeks were filled with stolen kisses behind books and lovesick looks exchanged across the room.

It was impossible to hide from Jake, not that either of you tried.

“You know I can see you two kissing behind the shelves!” He yelled, making the both of you jump in surprise. You both turned various shades of pink at getting caught.

Jake stood there, a mischievous grin plastered across his face, clearly enjoying the sight of your embarrassment.

“I know you’ve been dying to get together but someone��s got to make sure you’re not causing a scandal in the bookshop.” Jake teased.

With a sigh, you turned to Heeseung, still feeling the warmth of his touch. "Isn’t he supposed to be off today?” You asked, with fake annoyance.

Jake feigned offense, placing a hand over his heart dramatically. "Hey, I resent that! I'm just looking out for the literary integrity of this place."

You couldn't help but laugh at Jake's theatrical response. Despite his teasing, you knew he genuinely cared about both of you and wanted to see you happy. It was his way of expressing his support, even if it involved some playful ribbing.

Heeseung chuckled, his arm still wrapped around your waist, pulling you closer to him. "Well, Jake, I appreciate your concern, but I think we've got this under control."

Jake raised an eyebrow, a mischievous glimmer in his eyes. "Oh, really? Well, I'll be the judge of that."

Before you could respond, he playfully pointed towards a nearby bookshelf. "Kiss cam! Show me you're in control."

You rolled your eyes, but a smile tugged at the corners of your lips. You glanced at Heeseung, who wore a mischievous grin matching Jake's. With a twinkle in your eyes, you leaned in and shared a quick, playful kiss.

"Happy now, Jake?" you asked, suppressing a giggle.

Jake pretended to wipe away tears dramatically. "You've made me a proud matchmaker. Carry on, lovebirds!"

And Heeseung did, sneaking another kiss in before he continued his original job of stocking the shelves.

When you joined Jake at the counter, his gaze became serious. “I know I fool around a lot. But I really am happy for you.”

“I know.” You replied.

“I’ve known him for years now and I dont think I’ve ever seen him so happy before.”

A warm feeling spread through your chest as you listened to Jake's heartfelt words. It was a reminder of just how special your connection with Heeseung was, not only to you but also to those who cared about you both.

"I feel the same way," you confessed, a soft smile gracing your lips. "Heeseung has brought so much happiness into my life too. I'm grateful every day that our paths crossed in this little bookshop."

“Well let’s hope your story has a happily ever after.” Jake said and you laughed, completely unaware of what was to come.

The beginning of the end came on a cold May day. You had been to the bookshop almost everyday since December. Everyday, the door had swung open to invite you in. This time, however, the door remained shut. A sign hung from a nook on the door told you it was closed.

Worried, you dialed Heeseung quickly. Was he sick? But if he was wouldn’t Jake cover for him? Was something wrong?

Heeseung picked up on the fourth ring.

"Hey," Heeseung’s voice came through, but it lacked its usual cheerfulness. "I'm guessing you saw the sign."

“Yeah,” you replied, your voice heavy with concern. “Are you alright? Did something happen?”

There was a moment of silence before he answered. “I’m alright. The store… not so much.” He admitted.

Your heart sank further at Heeseung's somber tone. The weight of the situation settled heavily upon you, leaving you eager to understand what had transpired.

"What happened, Heeseung?" you asked, your voice filled with genuine worry.

Heeseung took a deep breath, his voice holding a mix of disappointment and resignation. “It's a complicated situation. My parents have been struggling to keep the business afloat for a while now. The rising costs, declining foot traffic, and the emergence of online retail... it all took its toll. It's been a tough decision, but we had to close the doors."

The news hit you like a wave, leaving you momentarily speechless. The bookshop had been a sanctuary for both of you as well as Jake. It felt like losing a part of your history, a place that held countless memories and moments that would forever be etched in your hearts.

“Well… what happens now?” You whispered, your voice trembling.

“Princess.” His voice had grown quiet and the realization that he had even worse news hit you like a brick.

“What’s going to happen to you, Heeseung?” You were almost too scared to ask.

“Princess, I- we-,” He sighed in frustration on the other end of the line.

“We’re moving. To the countryside.”

The words left you stunned and unsure of how to respond. Moving to the countryside meant leaving behind the life he had in the city, the familiar streets, and the comfort of his routines. It meant uprooting everything and starting anew in an unfamiliar environment.

"But... what about everything here?" you managed to say, your voice barely above a whisper. "Your friends, your university..."

"I know, Princess," Heeseung replied, his voice filled with regret. "It's a difficult decision, but my parents have made up their minds. And I've already applied for a transfer to the university there. It was accepted today.”

You felt a knot forming in your stomach as you tried to comprehend the magnitude of the changes that lay ahead.

"What about us?" you asked, your voice trembling. "What does this mean for our relationship?"

There was a brief silence on the other end of the line before Heeseung responded, his voice filled with tenderness. "Princess, I love you more than anything. I can't imagine my life without you. This move doesn't change that. We'll find a way to make it work, no matter where we are."

Tears welled up in your eyes as his words washed over you, offering a glimmer of hope amidst the uncertainty. It was true, love had a way of transcending physical distance and overcoming obstacles. If you both were committed to making it work, perhaps the countryside could become a new canvas for your relationship to flourish.

It was only when he had hung up the call that you realised it was the first time he had told you he loved you.

Jake was just as depressed at the news as you were. Gone was his cheery persona, replaced by one of a moping puppy. Not that you could judge, you weren’t much better after all.

“Heeseung will leave tomorrow night.” Jake’s words cut through the sombre air like a knife.

You hummed in response. If you opened your mouth you were sure tears would start flowing.

Heeseung's impending departure felt like another blow, a painful reminder of the changes that were unfolding in your lives.

You remained silent for what felt like hours before you whispered. “Jake?”

He looked at you in response.

“I’m going to miss him.” The tears that had been threatening to overflow finally did, and you cried and cried into Jake’s shoulder.

His arm wrapped around you comfortingly, rubbing circles on your shoulder. “I’ll miss him too.” He whispered just as sadly.

The following evening arrived, casting a melancholic haze over the room. The minutes seemed to slip away far too quickly, leaving you feeling as though time itself was playing a cruel trick on your emotions.

As the hour approached, you found yourself standing outside the bookstore, the place that had once been a safe haven for you, now closed and devoid of life. The emptiness mirrored the ache in your heart as you awaited Heeseung's departure.

Jake stood by your side, a solemn expression etched across his face. He offered you a gentle squeeze of the hand, his silent support speaking volumes.

Minutes later, the sound of a car engine broke the silence, signaling Heeseung's arrival. Your heart skipped a beat as he stepped out of the vehicle, his familiar smile now tinged with sadness.

You rushed to his side, unable to contain the tears that welled up in your eyes. Heeseung's arms enveloped you in a warm embrace, and you clung to him as if trying to hold onto the moments you had shared.

"I'm going to miss you," you managed to whisper through your tears, your voice choked with emotion.

Heeseung held you tighter, his voice filled with a mixture of sadness and reassurance. "I'm going to miss you too, more than words can express. But this isn't the end, princess. We'll find our way back to each other."

The three of you stood in a tight circle, a knot of intertwined emotions. As Heeseung pulled away, his gaze shifted between you and Jake, gratitude shining in his eyes.

"Thank you for being there for me," he said, his voice sincere and heartfelt. "I couldn't have asked for a better friend."

You took a step back, allowing Heeseung to say his goodbyes to Jake. The two shared a heartfelt embrace, their unspoken bond woven tightly between them. As they parted, you couldn't help but feel a deep sense of loss, knowing that the dynamics of your trio were forever altered.

Heeseung turned to you, his eyes filled with a mixture of love and determination. "Take care of yourself," he whispered, his words lingering in the air like a promise.

You nodded, your voice barely above a whisper. "I will. You take care too."

With one last lingering look, Heeseung climbed into the car, the engine humming to life. As the vehicle pulled away, taking a piece of your heart with it, you stood there, feeling the weight of his absence settle upon your shoulders.

You saw Heeseung in between the pages of books, his essence infused in the words that transported you to different worlds. Reading became your refuge, your escape from the ache of his absence. It was as if the characters and narratives were a bridge between you, keeping your connection alive despite the physical distance.

Every night, when the world grew quiet, the phone would ring, and his voice would fill the room. Those conversations were precious lifelines that provided a temporary respite from the longing in your heart. His words, filled with love and tenderness, wrapped around you like a warm embrace, soothing the ache of his absence.

And when the morning light spilled through the curtains, you would awaken to his text, a simple "good morning" that carried more weight than any words could express. It was a reminder that you were still connected, that he was thinking of you even when he was miles away from you.

“It’s so quiet here.” Heeseung’s voice said over the phone. “I’m still not quite used to it.”

You listened intently, hanging onto every word he said.

“Do you miss it here?” You asked.

His voice was sad when he replied. “I miss everything there but mostly I miss you.”

Your heart ached to see him.

“I miss you too.” You whispered.

He called every night without fail.

“Princess,” He would say and your heart would flutter at the pet name.

“I think you’ll like it here. It’s so peaceful to read beneath the stars.” He said with a smile hanging to his words.

“Would you live there forever?” You asked him, half teasing, half anxiously.

“I’d live anywhere if it was with you.”

And your heart would catapult across your chest.

Weeks would turn into months.

“I wish the bookshop didn’t have to close.” You told him, on another particularly vulnerable night.

“We can always open a new one.” He replied.

“Together?” His response had lifted your mood. Heeseung always had an uncanny way of knowing exactly what to say.

Heeseung's laughter resonated through the phone, a sound that brought warmth to your heart. "Yes, together. We'll fill the shelves with our favourite books, create a space where people can find solace and inspiration. It'll be our own little sanctuary."

Your heart swelled with love for Heeseung, his dreams intertwining with yours, creating a vision that felt so real, so attainable. The miles between you seemed insignificant in that moment as you both shared a dream that bound you together.

December slowly approached, marking an year since you had first encountered Heeseung.

The 3rd of December this year was cold. Or perhaps it felt colder to you, with the thought that Heeseung wouldn’t be by your side.

As you stood in front of the familiar bookshop, now closed and silent, you couldn't help but feel a sense of longing. You had initially wandered in, unsure of what you were even looking for. You had left with so much more than you could even dream of. The chilly wind brushed against your face, mingling with the scent of fallen leaves, creating a melancholic atmosphere.

You closed your eyes, picturing Heeseung's warm smile, his comforting presence that had filled the bookstore with life.

“Princess?”

You must be dreaming. You turned around, your heart skipping a beat as you saw Heeseung standing before you, his eyes filled with love and determination. His hair had grown longer but it was still Heeseung, your Heeseung.

“I couldn't let this day pass without being by your side," he said, his voice filled with a mixture of apology and devotion. "I had to come back to you, even if it's just for this day."

Tears of joy streamed down your face as you rushed into his arms, holding him tightly as if afraid he would disappear once again. The world around you faded into insignificance as you embraced, the warmth of his presence banishing the coldness that had gripped your heart.

"I missed you," you whispered into his ear, your voice filled with an overwhelming mixture of relief and love.

"I missed you too, Princess," he replied, his voice choked with emotion. "Being away from you made me realise that you are my home, no matter where we are."

His words made your heart swell with emotion, holding onto him tightly. He smelled just like you remembered - of books and ink.

“I have a surprise for you.” He said gingerly, holding your chin in his fingers to look into your eyes.

“Bigger than this?” You laughed in between sobs.

“Much bigger.” He smirked. “I talked to my parents. It took a whole lot of convincing and a lot of time spent with Jake researching on how we can bring in more money this time but-“

He allowed you to piece together his words before he continued.

“We’re reopening the bookshop. And this time I - no, we will be handling it.”

Your eyes widened, your heart leaping with a mixture of astonishment and delight.

“You mean... we can open a new bookstore together?" you asked, your voice barely containing your excitement.

Heeseung nodded, a wide grin spreading across his face. "Yes, together. We can bring our dreams to life, Princess. Just like we talked about.”

Tears welled up in your eyes once again, but this time they were tears of pure joy. The weight of the past few month’s longing and uncertainty lifted from your shoulders, replaced by a surge of hope and anticipation for the future.

"I can't think of anything more perfect," you whispered, your voice filled with gratitude and love.

Heeseung pulled you into another embrace, his warmth enveloping you completely.

“I told you Princess. I’d live anywhere if it was with you.”

Nestled on the corner of the street was a bookshop. Its brick exterior exuded a timeless charm, and the large windows invited passersby to peek inside and discover the treasures held within its walls. The sign above the entrance bore the name "Whispering Pages," a fitting title for a place where stories whispered and imaginations soared.

You and Heeseung stood behind the counter, side by side, ready to greet each customer with a warm smile and a genuine love for the written word.

Together, you and Heeseung - with the help of Jake of course - had painstakingly transformed the empty space into a sanctuary for book lovers. The shelves were lined with an eclectic mix of genres, ranging from classic literature to contemporary fiction, from fantasy realms to historical accounts. Each book held a story, waiting to be discovered and shared.

And as the bookshop's door chimed with the arrival of new customers, you took a moment to appreciate the beauty of the ordinary. The soft whisper of turning pages, the gentle rustle of paper, and the quiet yet profound love that bound you together. In this bookshop, where stories came to life, you had found your own love story—a tale woven with laughter, stolen glances and kisses between pages.

170 notes · View notes

moralesmilesanhour · 2 years ago

Text

my miles g headcanons!

A/N: the ending scene in ATSV made me think a lot about what a Miles that never got to reach his full potential as Spider-Man would be like. so, here are some of the thoughts/speculation I wrote down! Ofc you can feel free to disagree with my interpretation since he's not even on screen for more than 5 minutes lol but this guides how I choose to write him.

Essentially, Earth 42 Miles is a Miles that has given up. Like 1610 Miles says to Uncle Aaron, he likely does not believe he has a choice.

Maybe he steals on top of a second job to help support his mother, leaving little to no time for school

He uses his genius to build the Prowler suit instead of the spidey suit

Doesn't enjoy stealing but makes money from it so he can. Afford shit

Same love for art and music as Miles, but his taste likely differs/has changed (42 Uncle Aaron doesn't play hip hop, instead he plays Bobby Bland). I imagine him to have darker tastes and a sadder playlist lol

He is not MEAN or EVIL, just tired and spread too thin. Perhaps a little angry that his future was stolen from him.

With no superheroes and a police force that would likely be rendered ineffective, maybe community efforts would be more prevalent in this version of Brooklyn...?

Maybe 42 Miles uses some of his earnings from being the Prowler to give back? Would be strange and out of character to me for a Miles in any universe to be excessively selfish (he might still buy himself nice stuff tho)

Calmer and a bit more direct than 1610 Miles (who has time to beat around the bush?)

Burdened with responsibilities, he would not have as many chances to have fun

Now getting too old to go on heists as often, Aaron locates jobs for Miles and takes him to the location

Both Miles are lying to their moms so that guilt is still there

He cannot see a way out and neither can his uncle so they are both trapped in a vicious cycle; everyone is resigned in some way

The Prowler suit looks obviously heavier than the spidey suit, but he's still able to jump around in it. This may require earth 42 miles to be a bit stronger

Based on the jacket and cargo pants (instead of 1610 miles' hoodie and puffa w shorts), Miles g might have a different/more "mature" sense of style.

Has a mix between his Uncle Aaron's accent and his mom's, as evidenced by the film (everybody say thank you Jharrel Jerome). His voice is "deeper", but only sounds that way because he speaks more with his lower register whereas 1610 Miles/Shameik speak from a slightly higher place most of the time. More of an observation than a headcanon skfjdk

Has probably gotten used to doing horrible things to survive, but it's still...well, Miles. I'd like to think he's still capable of kindness when he isn't the Prowler and isn't ruthless all the time. He's still just a kid!

#across the spider verse spoilers #spiderman across the spiderverse #miles g morales #miles morales #earth 42 miles morales #miles morales headcanons

336 notes · View notes

caspersickfanfics · 10 months ago

Text

Written for @monthofsick Day 13: Professionalism Failure

Prompt List | AO3 | Ask | Rules

Warnings: Vomiting, fever, implied scat/diarrhea off screen

Anon asked:

Hey! I was wondering if I could request the professionalism failure for sick Cyno Tighnari caretaker? Maybe cyno has gotten food poisoning from a work event and has to somehow keep it together until tighnari can rescue him? Or maybe he can’t and has to deal with the embarrassment of it all. I just can imagine Tighnari being really protective over him if the other academy members give him a hard time~

A/N:

I don’t think this really makes sense in the canonical progression of things, but as I wrote this I imagined it taking place before Nahida had time to select actual good sages to replace the old ones. So the sages here are like the default ones who were next in line after Azar and that group. Essentially, they’re connected to Azar still but weren't directly convicted of any crimes and they have a lot less power. Idk, thinking about politics too much even in fiction makes me mad so I’m just gonna do a bit of a hand wave here.

This meeting has been a thorn in Tighnari’s side since the sages demanded to arrange it weeks ago. Despite his best efforts to wriggle his way out of it, the thorn had stuck. They’d backed him into a corner of sorts; the Akademiya demanded his presence specifically to even consider allocating funding to assist in the healing and maintenance of the Avidya Forest. Somehow, now that he’s in attendance, it’s even worse than he’d expected.

He scowls at the itinerary in front of him. It’s weighted so that anything anyone’s interested in will happen at the very end. No chance of leaving early. He probably shouldn’t have gotten his hopes up.

The one saving grace is that Cyno is here as well. While the matras’ financials are essentially secured as a matter of tradition, the specific way in which the money gets distributed is up in the air. Depending on the outcome, Cyno’s internal sense of justice may be placed in alignment with or in opposition to their mandates. This meeting may be even more important for him than for the forest rangers.

Which is why Tighnari is alarmed when, about 45 minutes into the 5 hour meeting, Cyno’s head is pillowed in his arms, resting upon the ridiculously long conference table. Although Tighnari is seated a distance away, he thinks he can see sweat matting the matra’s hair down. With any luck, he’s just being paranoid, though that seems unlikely. Even more so when Cyno raises his head and suddenly stands. His typically warm skin tone has paled to an ashy brown. He’s hunched over, too. His posture is altered so slightly that Tighnari doubts anyone else has noticed, despite all eyes turning his way at the scrape of his chair, but it’s glaringly obvious to him. Not to mention - this is Cyno’s second time interrupting the meeting. For the second time, too, he quietly excuses himself for the bathroom.

It’s fortunate that Alhaitham is still Acting Grand Sage. Tighnari had been somewhat grumpy towards his friend for the fact that he hadn’t been able to exempt him from the meeting, but the fiery grudge is doused when the ex-scribe’s glare silences annoyed complaints from the other sages about the General Mahamatra’s exit. If Alhaitham’s lingering frown is anything to go by, he’s noticed something off about Cyno as well.

The meeting continues on, and its participants are forced to split into breakout groups. They’re meant to be discussing the continued importance of knowledge to Sumeru, though no one seems to care enough to stay on topic. Instead, the people around Tighnari begin trash-talking Cyno.

“That’s enough gossip, I think,” Tighnari asserts dryly. He recognizes a handful of the nuisances around him as Bimarstan employees and smirks as they pale before him. “Sorry, who was it you were saying is unprofessional? I, for one, wonder about the ethical repercussions medical personnel might face if they were, say, reported for rudely speculating on a past patient’s personal life.” He resists the urge to make specific jabs at a particularly loud doctor whom he has quite damning intelligence on, but keeps the option available for future use as needed.

Fortunately, his colleagues are just barely smart enough to catch his threat. They carry their discussion to the topic at hand, and then onto some other irrelevant gossip that Tighnari doesn’t care enough to comment on. Instead, he’s distracted by tracking the time that Cyno’s been gone. Ten minutes, then 15. When the door finally creaks open, conversation lulls. Heads turn.

“I apologize for the disruption,” Cyno says upon entering. He looks… marginally better than he had when he’d left. The sages accept his apology with minor grumbling that is cut surprisingly short - again, likely thanks to the Acting Grand Sage. Tighnari will thank him, later. He tries to let his concern fade away, but is unable to resist clearing his throat.

“I’d like for the General to join our group, if that’s alright? I believe his insight would be rather beneficial to our current discussion.” A discussion to which Tighnari has been paying no attention. He is grateful once again for Alhaitham, who nods and silently leaves no room for disagreement.

Up close, Cyno looks exhausted. Tighnari was right to be worried. Cyno runs hot, but doesn’t tend to sweat; definitely not this profusely. He’s quiet by nature, but has never hesitated to voice his opinions. Now he says nothing even when their colleagues unapologetically speak with microaggressions and horribly biased misconceptions about the Eremites. His eyes are unfocused; Tighnari wonders if he’s hearing the conversation at all. As time passes, Cyno’s condition only worsens and he drifts closer to Tighnari’s side. Eventually, the matra’s stomach makes an angry noise and his cheeks flush. Tighnari pulls him aside.

“Do you need to leave?” He asks gently. Tighnari silently dares anyone else to comment with a quick glare at the rest of the group. They continue to chatter amongst themselves, shuffling out of earshot. Perhaps out of respect, an effort to grant some privacy; perhaps simply to gossip more. Tighnari simply does not care - not right now, at least. He’ll deal with it later if he needs to.

“I’m sorry,” Cyno says, voice weak. “I’m okay. My–” He sucks in a sharp breath and winces, his hand shaking as it drifts to his midsection. A moment passes; the pain intensifies and then relents. When he speaks again, Cyno’s voice is dulled. “My stomach is just disagreeing with something I ate.”

Clearly. If his partner were feeling better Tighnari would argue that this is a severe understatement. “You’ve been feeling bad this whole time?” Tighnari asks instead. The General shrugs.

“It’s manageable.”

Very deliberate phrasing, Tighnari notes. Outwardly, he nods. “Let me know if that changes, Cyno.”

The meeting carries on. It’s boring and obnoxious. The loud doctor continues to be vocal about his nonsense. Tighnari rebukes him occasionally for the sake of a bit of entertainment, but the other man is easily cowed. He defers quickly to Tighnari’s judgement each time. Uninteresting, but probably for the best; there’s no point in getting worked up over someone who will likely lose his position for malpractice in the next few months.

For his part, Cyno remains unspeaking in the presence of the rest of the group. He sits off to the side and fidgets, looking at the floor. His cheeks are flushed, which Tighnari suspects is due to both a fever and humiliation. When the side of his face comes to rest against the table, Tighnari resists the urge to remove his heavy headdress only because he knows that doing so would embarrass Cyno further.

Next on the itinerary is free discussion, meaning that everyone at the meeting is supposed to get up, walk around, talk to people… Tighnari does not care for this sort of connection making. He doesn’t bother moving, and responds politely but vaguely to anyone who approaches him. More importantly, he responds the same way when anyone tries to approach his partner - perhaps with a touch of extra heat. Of course, Cyno could fend for himself, even in his current state, but Tighnari has no doubt that at least some of their colleagues have picked up on the General's vulnerability and are deliberately targeting it. He’s just sent someone away perhaps a bit too forcefully to be called diplomatic, when a cool, clammy hand wraps around his arm. Cyno is looking up at him.

“Tighnari. I feel sick.” A queasy burp escapes him. Tighnari frowns.

“You’re nauseous? Cyno,” he chides. “You need to rest at home.”

Fortunately, Cyno nods in agreement. “I’ll let the sages know that I’m leaving. You should stay,” he says, waving away Tighnari's skepticism. “I can handle this and - hic! - there’s no need for the forest to suffer for my failings.”

Tighnari nearly rolls his eyes. He’s sure that neither the forest nor the matra need to face consequences as a result of an illness entirely out of Cyno’s control; though he can acknowledge there is some benefit in his presence here, if the other man is able to hold out on his own. If he stays, Tighnari could at least ensure nothing disastrous happens regarding either of their positions.

Still. He would easily sacrifice that for the sake of Cyno’s wellbeing.

He watches the sick man approach the sages, who sit in large, looming chairs, making Cyno look tiny. Alhaitham stands, as if to stretch his legs, and moves close. Frustratingly, with all of the chatter and the distance between then, Tighnari can’t hear a thing without imposing on the conversation directly. He can see Cyno speak, and then Alhaitham nods. The elder sages frown and one says something, before two more join in. Cyno's head bobs, then shakes, and then he muffles what looks to be another burp into his fist. He’s still for a moment, aside from his Adam’s apple bobbing frantically.

Even without knowing the exact words exchanged, it’s more than evident that the sages are unwilling to respect Cyno’s needs. Tighnari is about to interfere when Alhaitham’s voice jumps up a notch - likely deliberately at a volume just loud enough for Tighnari to hear.

“So,” he’s saying to the other sages, “you’re saying that a doctor whose medical skills are acknowledged by the Akademiya must verify that he’s ill?”

Tighnari tenses. He immediately glances around the large room, eyes searching. Alhaitham is still speaking.

“For example,” he continues. “A Bimarstan doctor?”

There’s no use checking whether the sages agree - Alhaitham has them cornered. Now Tighnari just needs to— Ah. There.

He barely resists grabbing the doctor by the ear and latches onto his wrist instead. Under his breath, he speaks with venom, “Cyno is sick, clearly, don’t you agree?”

The man is silent, probably stunned, and Tighnari continues. “Or would denying the obvious truth be worth risking—”

“Oh no, yes, you are correct, Master Tighnari,” the doctor rambles nervously. Tighnari pushes him before the sages. They glance at one another. Cyno looks up, as well, but stays quiet, taking measured breaths.

“Well?” Tighnari asks. “He’s a Bimarstan doctor.”

With the glares of both Tighnari and Alhaitham pinned on him, the eldest sage slowly nods. Tighnari turns his gaze to the doctor and taps his foot. “Go on, then.”

“Oh! Um, yes, I believe that the General Mahamatra is experiencing some, uh, gastrointestinal distress. He should rest at home for the quickest recovery.”

“And,” Tighnari jumps in before he gets a chance to scurry away. “Would you recommend that someone assist in his care during this time, perhaps due to the strain of having been forced to stay on his feet for so long?”

“Ah, yes. Master Tighnari is correct, it would be wise for him to accompany the General. Should– should you all agree–” His backtracking cuts off with a wheeze as Tighnari stomps on his foot.

The eldest sage doesn’t look pleased, but he sighs, unsmiling as he spits out begrudging words. “I will allow it. But the forest watcher must agree to reapply for his funding and return to the city in a few weeks' time... Should he still be interested in the Akademiya’s support, that is.”

Tighnari grits his teeth. These geezers always need to get the last word in. “Fine,” he snaps, foregoing any pretense of politeness. He all but drags Cyno out of the conference room - gently of course, though he’s sure they’re equally eager to be elsewhere.

As soon as they’re through the door, Cyno stops.

“Tighnari. The bathroom— urp!” He lurches forward with an empty heave, then scrambles away. Tighnari is quick on his heels, and finds Cyno in an unlocked stall, trembling with his head hanging over the toilet. He hasn’t been sick yet, but it’s only a matter of time.

“Hey,” Tighnari speaks quietly. “Deep breaths, okay?”

Cyno glances at him briefly, then nods and squeezes his eyes shut. “I’m sorry,” he mumbles. Tighnari scoffs.

“For saving me from that meeting? Cyno, please.”

The matra shakes his head. “It was important. And now you’ll have to come back. Not to mention– ugh,” a queasy shudder runs through him before Cyno is able to speak again. “Not to mention having to do the paperwork a second time.”

It’s an annoyance, but the paperwork isn't a big issue. Tighnari tells Cyno as much. “Just focus on getting better.”

The sick man has lost a great deal of the color in his face, and sweat glistens on his temples. His whole body is tense. Tighnari brushes his hair back, hoping to protect it from any mess and provide some comfort at the same time. “Try to relax,” he says.

“Guh,” Cyno moans. “I feel so… gross.”

Tighnari aches in sympathy. For as ill as Cyno looks, he’s sure he feels even worse. Minutes pass slowly. Cyno’s stomach makes angry noises and he’s periodically wracked by hiccups and burps. Eventually, Tighnari coaxes him into leaning back against his chest. His hands card through Cyno’s hair as the sick man turns, pressing his face into Tighnari's neck.

“You’re okay,” Tighnari murmurs. There are warm little puffs of air against his neck and it tickles, but he remains still.

He’s just beginning to sweat from his partner’s body heat when Cyno lurches away from him, hunched forward over an empty but gut-wrenching belch. His entire body heaves three times until he’s burping up a flood of vomit. It pours out of him with alarming urgency. Tighnari keeps his hair out of the way, but he can do little else but watch as Cyno violently empties himself. Each time he thinks it may be over, Cyno’s stomach contracts again. He sways; Tighnari steadies him just in time for another jet of puke to splash into the toilet water.

Disgusted shudders run through Cyno while he tries desperately to catch his breath. When he gets close, he is overtaken by coughs that bring up more bile. He groans.

Fortunately, there’s only so much in his stomach. When Cyno’s retching fails to bring anything else up for a handful of minutes, Tighnari half-drags him out of the stall, away from the sour smell. It seems to help. Cyno wipes his face and swallows thickly.

“How are you feeling?” Tighnari asks.

Cyno shrugs. “Bit better. For now.”

Tighnari hums; it’s to be expected. He suspects a bout of food poisoning or the stomach bug, so the next 24 hours or so will likely be challenging. It’s a humbling thing, being able to do so little in the way of comfort at such a time. Still, he does what he can, massaging the back of Cyno’s neck, feeling him relax in time with his ministrations. He only stops when the matra begins drifting off.

Tighnari pokes his cheek. Cyno cracks an annoyed eye open, and Tighnari raises a brow. “Oh, I’m sorry. Did you want to sleep here? In this bathroom? Where our colleagues will eventually find us?”

Cyno nods. Cheeky bastard. His words are slurred when he speaks, as if his mouth has relaxed along with his body. “As long ’s you keep doin’ that…”

With a snort, Tighnari pulls them both to their feet. “Let’s go, you big lummox. I’d much rather give you a massage on your couch than on these gross tile floors.”

“Mhm,” Cyno mumbles, leaning heavily against his partner as they walk. “Nari… thank you.”

Chest warm, Tighnari ruffles the other man’s hair lightly and presses a quick kiss to the top of his head. “Any time.”

———

Fanart for this fic!!!

———

If you enjoyed the fic, feel free to let me know by replying directly to this post, by sending me an ask, or by sharing your thoughts with me privately and anonymously through this survey! I would super appreciate it <3 Thank you so much for reading!!

40 notes · View notes

randomfoggytiger · 9 months ago

Text

Collector's Edition: Cars and Conversations (Part I)

Mulder and Scully have traveled a lot a lot a lot during their years in the basement-- surely, they had pretty cool conversations on the road?

Loose chronological order below~

@wexleresque/hellsteeth's

stars

As he climbs into the passenger seat of his father’s Lincoln, Fox yawns. The dashboard clock reads 5:03 AM and the smug tilt of his mother’s lips suggests that the early hour is the result of considerable negotiation. The tires crunch on the driveway and his mother waves at him absentmindedly from the porch as they depart. She doesn’t make a habit of smiling, but in the dark, Fox thinks something close might be on her face.

The drive is quiet this morning, save for the news on the radio and the whistle of the wind through the cracked window. Sunflower seeds sail over the glass and Fox takes a few out of the bag, chewing on them for something to do.

“How’s work, Dad?” he asks as they pass Fall River.

Young Mulder is tossed back and forth by his begrudging parents.

the fbi basement bulletin board - Chapter 5 (Tumblr)

“Hm. Well you probably don’t need a medical professional to tell you this, but if you keep moving it around, it’s going to take longer to heal. You need to rest it.”

“Noted, doc. And you just missed the turn, by the way.”

S1 Mulder is bad at directions-- especially with a sprained wrist.

Local Radio (Tumblr)

Driving out to a little town in Indiana hadn't been in the original plan, but the business of Memorial Day weekend had removed flying as an option. They needed to reach their destination within 24 hours. So here they were, en route to another place that didn't even warrant a dot on the map (you've seen one, you've seen them all, he sometimes thought to himself).

Mulder is amused at a crazy radio station (and at Scully's reaction.)

Christine Leigh's (Alt. Ao3) Maybe?

"Okay, here we are." Maggie said this as she pulled off the highway and onto the road that would take them into Democrat Hot Springs. She was surprised that there wasn't more traffic. This town, if she remembered right, was supposed to be some sort of a resort area. Five more minutes, and they were in the parking lot looking up at the familiar sight of the neon arches, and that's all that mattered.

Captain Scully is back from deployment; and Maggie senses something is off with her youngest daughter.

@thatfragilecapricorn30's (Ao3) Tell Me You Love Me - Chapter 1

“How do you know where I live?” he asked.

Scully’s cheeks reddened; she was hoping he wouldn’t notice or find her actions inappropriate. “It was, uh, it was in your personnel file. I wrote down your address after you called me at home after the last case. I figured I may need it at some point.”

Mulder smiled. “Just trying to see if you’ve been spying on me.”

Post Deep Throat Scully can't shed her keyed-up nerves after driving Mulder back home.

@scullywolf's (Ao3)

Eve

Her eyes narrowed. “How far up north?”

“California’s a big state, Scully.”

“I’m aware of that. How far?”

He decided there was probably something very interesting over in the corner that merited staring at while he answered. “About 300 miles. Give or take.”

Eve Mulder sheepishly wakes Scully.

Red Museum

Sure, the old man wasn’t a member of the church, and similarities between him and Brother Andrew were all but nonexistent, but the cryptic “There’s something I’d like to show you,” with no further explanation, was enough to set her mental warning bells chiming. She was a grown woman, with a gun, but that didn’t mean she loved the idea of jumping into some random stranger’s truck after only the briefest of exchanges. Mulder joined her at the truck’s window, an unspoken question on his face.

Red Museum Scully communicates her anxieties to Mulder without a word.

Demons

The car company rep agreed to come and pick her up, and she sat down on the curb for only a minute or so before getting up again to pace off her nervous energy. A hundred horrible scenarios played themselves out in her head; at least ninety of them involved Mulder getting into car wrecks of varying degrees of seriousness. In order to keep herself from panicking, she tried to focus on the task at hand, which only made her angry that she was even in her current position in the first place.

Demons Scully has to call in a new rental car.

Drive

“All I’m saying,” she said pointedly, “is that it could be worse. We could be crammed in a room right now with a bunch of other agents, and instead we’re at least driving around through what you have to admit is some fairly scenic farmland.”

Mulder spared a moment to mourn their lost office.

Drive Scully appreciates being out in the field with Mulder again.

Dreamland II

"...Mulder, I’m not proud of how long it took me to realize what was going on. I was about ready to drag you in for an MRI. Some sort of delayed-effect brain trauma from your trip out to the Queen Anne was the only thing I could think of to account for your dramatic change in behavior. Only it wasn’t you at all–”

“Well, you believe it now, and that’s all that matters. Now how do we fix things?”

Dreamland II Mulder and Scully catch up before heading back into the fray.

@cactustree's (Ao3) Fast Times and Slow Drives

She startles when she feels a warm hand on top of hers, and her eyes snap open as though jolted by an electric shock. She looks over to find Mulder studying her, his eyes darkened with concern.

“Watch the road, Mulder,” she murmurs, pulling her hand away from his.

“What’s wrong, Scully?”

Post Genderbender Mulder banters away Scully's apology with facts.

@h0ldthiscat's (Ao3, Alt. Ao3)

Survivor

She swats him away with one of her small hands when he touches her head and helps her into the car, but the look she shoots him lacks her usual antagonism, and the purse of her lips doesn't quite convince him that she's annoyed.

"Do you want another one of these before we hit the road?" He shakes a half-empty bottle of Gatorade at her as he slides behind the wheel, but she shakes her head once, firmly, and presses her lips together in a thin line, making them even whiter than they are.

Post Darkness Falls Mulder drives them home.

7. things you said while we were driving

She shoves the sunshade back up and clears her throat. “Can we go?”

He notices for the first time that her eyes are wet, that her chin is quivering despite her best attempts to control it. Remorse and guilt wash over him as he remembers an offhand comment from earlier in the week that explains her makeup, her nicer-than-usual suit, the set of her jaw.

Post Never Again Mulder's remorse soothes Scully's feelings.

Can I ask for a fic tonight? :)

“Was the drive okay?” she asks.

Mulder jerks his head back to the still open door and says, “Ask your son, he drove.”

William appears in the doorway, duffel bag slung over his shoulder, tawny hair in his eyes. “It was fine, Mom.”

“Good,” she says, shooting daggers at Mulder with her eyes, daggers that say she can’t believe he let their son drive in a snowstorm....

AU-- Revival era Scully is not pleased Mulder let college age William drive back in a snowstorm.

@crossedbeams’s (Ao3) I-Spy

‘I love this song!’ I explain, whizzing the twizzler I have pilfered from Mulder’s junk food haul around in some vaguely rhythmic pattern. I love music I just lack the skill set to express that love very elegantly.

Mulder chuckles at my enthusiasm and cranks up the volume, ‘I never would have had you pegged as a Clapton fan’.

S1 Scully tells Mulder about her family road trips.

@slippinmickeys's (Ao3, Gossamer)

Prompt Drabble Collection - Chapter 25 (Tumblr)

The thing was, it was next to impossible to see out the windshield.

Scully loved thunderstorms. Having spent a large portion of her youth in San Diego, they were still a novelty, even after years on other, more weather-prone bases and college campuses, and if she'd been home, she would have pulled up a chair next to her window and curled up there with a mug of tea, watching the light play in the sky and the water ping sharply against the glass.

However, as a driver she was cautious, and with Mulder, well, she had a reputation to uphold: He was the engine. She was the brake.

S1 Scully drives through a storm, donuts and a dozing partner included.

@brownies-and-tea/browniesandtea's Collect Call

“Mulder, it’s too late.” Scully sighed and leaned against the rain-streaked window of the car.

"I can't believe you're thinking fondly of that awful motel."

"I'm thinking fondly of a decent night's sleep." she stretched across the passenger seat.

S1 Mulder pursues a lead with Scully, from car to phone booth.

Ten's Learning to Breath (1/2)

In the elevator the women leaned him against one of the walls and kept talking to him, worried that otherwise he would go back to sleep and start sliding to the floor. Dana asked him questions, like his name and address, to keep him alert. She was relieved when she received the correct answers.

They got him into the backseat of Maggie's car, careful not to bump his head. Dana immediately raced around the car and got in the back herself. She fastened his seatbelt and watched as he leaned back against the headrest. He was asleep again before Maggie turned the key in the ignition.

AU-- Post One Breath Scully, Maggie, and Melissa are shocked at the state of Mulder's apartment.

J. C. Sun's Car Ride

My partner is next to me, as he always is, but for the first time in months, he's wearing his glasses. They make him look like an owl: a giant, somber six-foot owl perched in the driver's side seat. However, I doubt any owl has ever rolled his shirtsleeves up to the elbow and cradled a book in his lap, or chased the paranormal for a living. Nor do I think any owl has ever looked quite like him: the slightly twisted nose, the clear hazel eyes and the annoying, annoying little lock that, even now, droops across his forehead. It takes a wrench of will to resist the urge to reach out and to smooth it into place.

Post Firewalker Scully is bonded to Mulder now.

@seek-its-opposite/seek_its_opposite's

transient luminous events

He is still just standing there, the sleeves on the turtleneck he didn’t need to wear pushed up at the elbows. She is suddenly, vividly aware of the car, of the hot metal and the smell of rubber in stagnant humidity. Duane Barry’s trunk smelled like a spare tire. Her mouth goes cloth-gag dry.

“Can we?” she asks. She waves her hand at the road ahead and wonders how she’s so sure of this: He’d have known what she was asking even if she hadn’t.

“Sure,” Mulder nods. He looks relieved. He grabs their flashlights from the glove compartment and hands her one, and the flood of Pfaster’s headlights behind her eyes softens and clarifies into two beams that will never outrun her. And they walk.

Post Irresistible Scully confronts Mulder on his bubble-wrap method of protection.

if you weren't so

She tilts her chin up at him, at the usual angle, and finds that the geometry between them is the same.

“I need to talk to you,” she says. “Something’s happened.”

Behind him, his not-wife drags a recliner over the threshold in reverse, yelling at the houses that all look like hers.

“I have to talk to you alone.”

She says “alone” like she always says it and wonders if she meant to do that. There are days when she’s sure she could leave him in the dirt and still wind up in a room with him at the end of the world. As they slip behind the truck, she's gripped by the idea that to Joanne Fletcher, she is the woman Mulder shouldn’t be with.

AU-- Dreamland II Mulder and Scully try to find a way back to each other.

theramblinrose's Irresistible - Chapter 5/Chapter 6

“I didn’t know when I’d hear from you,” Mulder said.

“I’m at the airport,” Scully said. “I’ve got a car. I’m driving in. I just wanted to call before I left.”

“Anything wrong?” Mulder asked.

“No,” Scully said. “Honestly—everything’s feeling pretty right, Mulder.”

AU-- Irresistible Mulder and Scully are juggling their new relationship, a surprise pregnancy, and the fallout from the nefarious Pfaster.

eponine119's Same Old Fight

-Turn it back, he'd insisted, his knuckles white on the steering wheel with the effort of keeping the car on the narrow twisting road, This is making me jumpy.

-I don't know why I let you drive.

-You didn't have any choice.

-Mulder, pull over and let me drive.

-No.

S2 Mulder rescues Scully after their blowout fight almost ends with an explosive conclusion.

Sneakers/sneakers's

Walter Skinner's 'From Left Field

"But I don't see why Skinner should care about the book. It didn't mention *him*, and it didn't even use our names." Scully stood in front of the bookcase, scanning the shelves. "We didn't divulge anything classified; I'm sure the reading public thinks the whole think is a joke."

"But they had the nerve to claim I ate *twelve* piece of sweet potato pie!"

She pulled the book down. "Skinner's going to complain about your eating habits?"

"But I *hate* sweet potato pie, Scully. You know that, remember? I turned green at the gills last Thanksgiving, when your sister-in-law offered me some."

Post Jose Chung's From Outer Space Skinner has his thoughts on the book.

Sweet Home D.C.

"But the reception . . ." She looked out the window at the 1 AM darkness. "I think we both need to get some sleep. Turn the radio back on if you want to."

He did.

<< . . . Sweet home, Alabama . . . where skies are so blue . . . sweet home, Alabama . . . Lord, I'm coming home to you . . .>>

"That guy's got something wrong with his head, Scully."

Mulder and Scully, switching songs and swapping gum.

Evil_Little_Dog's

Cassadaga Bound

Dana squinted out the car window. "I don't think there's enough room in this town for all the witches, or demons, or devils in Florida, let alone the world."

S3 Mulder detours he and Scully to a fortune teller's.

Travelogue

“We’re not lost.” Mulder shot her a look then turned back to the road, correcting for the drift. “We’re directionally challenged.”

Making a guttural noise deep in her throat, Scully glanced out the window.

Mulder, the car, and a ditch.

@sunlightscully's (XF Writing Challenge - Food)

They have perfected the art of car eating. The driver orders and pays and hands the greasy bag over to be unpacked. The passenger unwraps the driver’s burger. They share fries.

When he pays she asks for the bare minimum and nothing too expensive. He orders extra large milkshakes and pretends he doesn’t see her stealing sips. They compensate for each other. Ketchup has not been spilled in years.

Mulder realizes he loves Scully.

Starbuck's (FFN) Wake Me When We Get There

"Shouldn't be much longer, Scully."

She made no acknowledgment, lying her head upon the seat once again. He continued driving as she drifted in and out of consciousness. White line. White line. Yellow line.

"Wake me when we get there, Mulder."

Mulder keeps the volume down so his partner can sleep on the long drive home.

@wtfmulder/@momdadimpoppunk's (Ao3) drabble; pay no mind

Scully paces around the car, branches and leaves snapping quietly under her weight. But she’s not angry, not at all, or nervous. She occasionally bends down to steal a sunflower seed from him and pauses to crack it before continuing her little loops.

Mulder and Scully find their own ways to entertain themselves when the rental car breaks down.

@incidental-ao3/incidental's Febuwhump 2023: The Truth is Out There (And the Fic is In Here) - Chapter 18

“No, Mulder, I should be keeping you awake, you’re the driver.”

“But I am awake,” he argued reasonably. “So there’s no reason for you to torture yourself when you could catch another few hours’ rest.”

“Don’t be dramatic, it’s not torture,” she scoffed. He smirked.

“Could’ve fooled me,” he said. She scowled sleepily.

Scully tries not to fall asleep, and Mulder ruminates on life before lights.

@mulderbabe77's Taco Stands and Regrets

He pushed down a little harder on the gas pedal.

“Are you gonna throw up?” He gulped, hoping to hear a no.

“Nope,” she answered and for a moment he almost sighed with relief. “The other thing, I think,” she finished, grimaced again and held a hand to her cramping stomach.

“I’m on it!” He sped the car up a little more.

Ten minutes later they could see the exit just ahead. Mulder was shifting uncomfortably in his seat.

Mulder and Scully both get food poisoning while on the road.

@hamster-on-fire/fade_into_the_dusk_with_me’s For The Sake Of Driving (Ao3)

They’d do this sometimes. Drive. They were always driving, it seemed. But when it was dark like this & he was scared like this, or tired like this, or just utterly numb like this, it was different. The curve of the road up ahead could feel like a whole conversation; the silence, an opening, & they’d both sit there, like staring at a sterile wound.

Mulder and Scully help each other decompress on long, long car drives late into the night.

Timemeantnothing's On the road again

“We helped keep the Germans from getting Thor’s Hammer.”

“Mhmm,” Scully hummed, turning the corner.

“It was Einstein, Scully. We protected Albert Einstein.”

“That was very good of us to do.”

Mulder and Scully, driving: hot ladies, aliens, cheek kisses, Triangle rambles, and Millennium contentedness.

Thank you for reading~

Enjoy!

**Note**: I am a "separate the art from the artist" person through-and-through; but my lists will no longer be featuring writers that have blocked me-- tooooooo much drama has been kicked up over that issue.

36 notes · View notes

isaaagloom · 2 months ago

Text

aMEN.

going along with this i feel like when i watch a show and two characters are meant to be really close, friends, family, even acquaintances that are meant to click, it feels so odd when the characters just. dont.

or alternatively when characters DO click but its out of character? like they get together and have great chemistry, but you can tell its just, not with the original two characters in mind:((

TERRIBLE AND I HATE IT!!!!! im no director but OH MY GOD DO BETTER PLEASE

“animators dont have to explicitly tell you a ship is canon if the characters actions towards eachother dont make sense unless you read them as romantic actions.” i say into the mic

the crowd boos, i step back

“no wait she’s right” a group says

its the arcane animators.

#i wrote this in like 5 minutes this may make no sense #sorry guys #losing it #this reblog was made with the umbrella academy season four in mind #i hate five x lila #isaaagloom

918 notes · View notes

finishwhatyoustarted-event · 4 months ago

Text

Tools Tuesday - Motivation to Start, and Setting Goals - Sept 3

It’s the first Tuesday of the event, so it’s time for a Tools Tuesday! Tools Tuesday is a weekly part of the Finish What You Started event where I share various resources I have found to help everyone complete their WIP. Have a resource you want to share? Send it in a message and I’ll take a look!

Today is about motivation to start and setting easy goals to keep the momentum going.

Starting a project can be the scariest part. Good news! If you’re participating in this event, you’ve already completed that step! But finishing is daunting, especially for long projects with no end in sight, or ones that you’ve struggling with for a long time.

When you have a big project, especially one that you may have started and put down years ago, it can be intimidating to pick it back up. Give yourself a few minutes to review what you already have done. Read through the last part you wrote, read your notes, check the pattern, etc. If you need to, make notes about what you have, where you remember you wanted to go, and what is inspiring you now. That scene you got stuck on might make sense now, or you see another angle you could draw that tricky pose from. You could even go in a whole new direction.

Be kind to yourself if you feel stuck. You can't intimidate or yell yourself into productivity!

When you’re ready to work, it can help to do some warmup stretches, especially for artists and sewists, but writers, musicians, and others craftspeople benefit from a good warmup stretch too! If you’re on the discord, check the general resources channel for wrist stretches. And stretch during breaks! This is a stretch guide I keep on my phone, to remind me to loosen up. made by @/tizzymcwizzyALT

[basic ID, more in alt: an infographic of a pink figure demonstrating a variety of hand, arm, and upper body stretches. End ID.]

If it’s not distracting, set the mood for your work with an applicable playlist or soundscape. Make sure you won’t be interrupted or distracted during your work time by silencing notifications and minimizing other windows. Let yourself focus on this one thing.

When you do start, set a small goal. It can be word count based or time based, whatever makes sense for your project. Make it very achievable: maybe just five minutes or 100 words. The thrill of reaching that goal can help carry you through another 5 minutes, another 100 words. If you struggle just to get through that goal, congratulate yourself on making your session goal! You can go do something else now. Decreasing the pressure on yourself can help get creative energy flowing. When you make your goal consistently, you can up it, but not too much.

There’s a famous anecdote that whenever author Terry Pratchet sat down to write, he set a goal of 400 words. Whether he wrote more or not, he did his 400. By the time of his death, Terry Pratchet had written and published over 40 novels. For myself, I like to set session/day goals, weekly goals, and monthly goals. That way even if my progress isn’t linear, I can see myself approaching where I want to be. Incremental goals can feel really good! But if holding yourself to a number doesn’t help, find what does.

If you want help from others also working on wips, come join the discord! We have a space for accountability buddies to help keep you on track and a place to write during timed sprints, as well as many resources. This link should not expire!

These all might feel obvious to you, but maybe someone else hasn’t considered them before. What gets you motivated to work on your wip? Do you have any tricks that always work for you? Share them with your fellow participants here!

#finish what you started 2024 #finishwhatyoustarted2024 #tools tuesday

11 notes · View notes

unnonexistence · 1 month ago

Text

Unnonexistence's Notecard Method for Learning Mathematics

Hello! This is the study method I developed after flunking out of first-year university algebra and having to retake it! It may or may not be particularly innovative and it may or may not help you, but I did (eventually) graduate with a Bachelor's degree in math despite having unmedicated ADHD, so, y'know, there's that. I owe it mostly to the notecards.

DISCLAIMER that any example cards are my actual real notes & I am not fact-checking them. They lean towards intuitive rather than strictly correct & were only ever intended to be for personal reference. I did pass these courses, and I think most of the cards are pretty good, but like... use at your own risk.

You Will Need:

A pack of index cards. I like the 3" x 5" ones that are lined on the front and blank on the back.

Some pens you like. I use fine-tip markers in about 4 colours, plus a white gel pen for fixing mistakes. Pencil can get smudgy over time, so it's not ideal.

Any course materials you have (notes, textbook, etc.)

Optionally, a nice box for your index cards. (You can also just use a rubber band or something. Whatever).

General Approach

We're making reference cards. One concept per card. You probably have an intuitive sense of how big A Concept is for you - it should be an amount of information that can comfortably fit in your brain at one time. If it doesn't fit on one or maaaybe two cards, it's probably too big.

Here's a topic I broke up into two cards - Chain Rule and Extension of Chain Rule. One IS an extension of the other, but the information is a lot easier to remember in two chunks. (3 pictures, here, because the first card is double-sided).

You are NOT trying to cram as much information as you can onto each card. You are trying to create an easy reference for yourself, which means making the cards as clear and legible as you can. When it's 5 minutes before your calculus exam and you're having a panic attack because you forgot how the chain rule works, you want to be able to flip through, find that Chain Rule card, and be able to absorb the information on there.

For math courses, A Concept is often a definition, a theorem, a formula, or a problem-solving approach. As much as possible, you want to write it down in a way that makes sense to you. Add any helpful tips or intuitive explanations or things you keep forgetting. If your cards are blank on the back, that's a great place to draw diagrams.

(On the back of this card you can see where I wrote "Rho" in pencil and never bothered to replace it with the symbol, lol. My prof had bad handwriting & I wasn't sure how it was supposed to look.)

Proofs are often too long to fit on a card, but if you have a theorem where the proof is important, it's a good idea to write out a little summary of how the proof works/how to do it.

Ideally, you do the work of Understanding The Concept when you're making the card, and then you can just refer back to it in future. I forget definitions a lot, and this saved me so much time that I would have spent reading one confusing page of the textbook over and over or trying to find stuff in my notes.

I try to keep my formatting mostly consistent. Clear title. Card numbers in the top right corner so I know if anything's missing. Definitions in black ink with important words underlined in colour. I tend to use coloured ink for things like examples and personal commentary. I also use it to create a visual distinction when I do need to cram something on there (not ideal, but sometimes necessary).

The Method

Sit down with your class notes or your textbook. Your goal is to get all the important concepts you're supposed to have learned in this course so far onto notecards. (Probably not all in one go.)

The ideal time to do this is right after each lecture (most math lectures are around 2-5 cards worth of material), but that's easier said than done. I always had a hard time keeping up & all my card decks, as a result, get spottier towards the end of the term. It's fine. Do your best.

I mostly went through the course material in order. I kept checklists of which lectures I had already made cards for, and which ones still needed doing.

If you don't really get something, but you know you need a card for it, at least put the definition down. You can make a better version or add more notes later. I sometimes make placeholder cards with just a title so I'll remember to come back to something.

If you write down a definition, and you're like "this refers to another thing, and idk what it is but it's come up a few times now," you probably need to make a notecard for that other thing.

How I Use The Cards

When you're doing assignments, it's really useful to have your stack of cards there to refer to. If something comes up that you don't remember the definition for, you can look it up. If you're doing proofs, having all the theorems from the course handy is a great way of getting ideas for where to start. If you're doing calculations, it's helpful to have the techniques you need written out step by step.

I spent a lot of my exam prep time making cards and going through the ones I'd made. It gave me a sense of what I already knew and what I needed to spend more time on. Having things broken up into small chunks also made it a lot easier for my brain to hang onto them.

After making cards like this for a few terms, I also found them really helpful for reviewing concepts from previous courses. Sometimes you just need to refresh your memory on something from the prereq so you're not totally lost. I've graduated now & I still refer back to my cards sometimes.

Conclusion

Well, that's my (somewhat rambly) explanation of my main study method! I hope it's helpful for at least a few people out there. I wish you the best of luck learning math & whatever else you might be studying. You've got this!!

#studyblr #mathblr #long post #idk the study tags. whatever #this is me writing without trying to hide the adhd much. hi #it's verbose. words fall out of brain and there are a lot of them. you know how it goes #also tumblr kept EATING MY DRAFT EDITS fuck u tumblr #r.i.p the slightly better version of this post that DIED #mine #numbers do not lie #also. apologies for the barebones image descriptions. idk how to transcribe the math properly and i don't really have the spoons to try #i did try to put the info that's relevant to this guide. theyre just examples of cards so the specific math isnt really important #math

6 notes · View notes

gri1evances · 4 months ago

Text

Devilman Crybaby - An Analogy for Love

[ i've just rewatched the series for the 6th time, here's an essay i wrote about it a while ago ]

Warning: this following doc contains spoilers for Devilman Crybaby

Before I begin, I would like to make a note saying this is pure speculation and my thoughts and opinions on my three watches of the series. I have gone through and made notes on things that have stuck out to me episode by episode, and each interpretation of the characters is based on my own opinions. Enjoy.

“Love’s not real. There is no such thing, therefore there is no sorrow. That’s what I thought” Is the opening line of Devilman Crybaby, delivered by Ryo Asuka. The first line in this series being about love and a character’s interpretation of it gently opens the gates to the rest of the series and the subtle undertones of love scattered throughout the episodes and the relationship between characters.

From the start, Ryo is portrayed as a cold character with an unhinged side, shown in his initiation of the massacre of the Sabbath. Yet, whenever speaking to Akira, Ryo seems to soften, as if letting down his walls for the one person he may consider a friend. Akira Fudo, on the other hand, is a gentle soul, as shown in the opening scenes of him reaching out to Ryo, asking if he’s okay, and protecting the kitten the two had found on the cliff, putting himself in harm’s way to make sure Ryo wouldn’t injure it. Akira bleeds love, and it is shown through all his actions in the series, from following Ryo to the Sabbath to fighting him head-on in the final episode.

Part one: Before the betrayal (Episodes 1-5)

Akira Fudo

Episodes one to five focus on showing the audience more of Akira and Ryo’s friendship and how it developed from that to codependency, where Ryo took advantage of Akira’s kind heart and his love for his friends and humanity and used that as leverage to eventually put Akira in a situation where, no matter what he said, Ryo managed to successfully manipulate the world and turn it against Akira and the other Devilmen.

From the first episode, it is evident that Akira has unconditional love for everything that lives, and he is a very sensitive person at heart, having an almost ‘sixth sense’ where he can tell what someone is feeling even if they don’t know it themselves, earning himself the nickname ‘Crybaby’. An example of this is in the first minutes of episode one, where Akira is crying after the death of a kitten he fought hard to take care of. Ryo asks him why he is sad since he knew the kitten was dying, as “The weak ones die” and Akira counters his words by saying “You’re crying too, Ryo” which works as direct foreshadowing to the final episode, where Ryo sheds his first tears in his life over Akira. Throughout these episodes, Akira shows multiple different forms of love in the connections he makes, the first being platonic love, shown in his relationships with Miki Makimura, Ryo Asuka, and other people he meets whilst following Ryo, and the second being familial. The show of familial love is seen both in his encounter with his deceased parents after they had been absorbed by a devil, and in his relationship with the Makimura family, where he acts as an older brother figure to Taro, and almost as an adoptive son to the Makimuras. These are the two major forms of love Akira shows throughout the first half of the series, however, other forms of love are shown as the series progresses.

Ryo Asuka

From the get-go, it is made explicitly clear that Ryo is not a good person. He is cold to the world outside of himself and Akira’s friendship, and even then the word ‘friendship’ doesn’t seem to quite cut how he feels about Akira. To Ryo, Akira is a pawn, and he has been ever since he returned from America and swept him away from the docks to bring him to his house. He knew what kind of person Akira was, and took full advantage of the fact that he would do almost anything to help his friend, even accompanying him to the Sabbath to help with Ryo’s ‘research’. Ryo never shared his intentions with Akira prior to arriving, and he led Akira into danger for the chance that Akira would assimilate with Amon and become a Devilman. He knew that Akira’s heart was too pure to be completely corrupted by the assimilation, making him a new form of devil and therefore an important part of Ryo’s research.

Through the assimilation, Ryo created a codependency with Akira- he placed him in a situation where Akira couldn’t tell anyone else what he had done and who he was now except for vague comments, such as him saying to Miki ‘This body needs a lot of fuel’ as they were walking home together. He put Akira in a situation where Ryo was the only one he could speak to regarding his current state as a Devilman, and in return, Ryo would provide him with enough food to fuel himself, but would also make Akira accompany him and record him in his Devilman state. At a point, Ryo became obsessed with being the only one with access to this footage, going as far as finding the home address of the photographer Nagasaki to wipe the files from his computer, and then get rid of any evidence that he had been there in the first place. Ryo realized Akira was special, and he wanted to do anything he could to keep him under his thumb for his plans to go smoothly.

After the betrayal (episodes 6-12)

In the second half of the series, love seems to take a backseat as violence and the war against humanity come into full swing, however, the undertones are still there and still lingering, from Taro’s mother sacrificing herself so her son didn’t go hungry in his Devilman state, to Miko’s confession and declaration of love and admiration towards Miki. However, as the other characters seem to have grasped at and come to terms with their own forms of love, Akira’s love towards Ryo flickered and faded away after his betrayal and attempt at turning humanity against Akira. Ryo’s plan was simple; turn Akira’s love towards humanity into hatred as humans turned against him and whoever stood beside Akira, so Akira would side with him in destroying humanity. However, underestimated how much Akira truly loved his family and his friends- Miki’s death ruined him emotionally, and instead of running towards Ryo and wanting to enact revenge in Miki’s name, Akira knew that she would still have been alive had Ryo not betrayed him.

Akira Fudo

Akira slowly became a shadow of himself following Ryo’s betrayal, especially after he discovered that Miki had defended him publicly online, and as a result, had died horribly. Akira’s last remaining family had died, and he witnessed the cruelty of humans firsthand as he saw his friends body parts be raised on stakes and waved as trophies in front of the remains of what once was his house. Despite this, Akira still wanted to save humans. He wanted to make sure Miki’s sacrifice wasn’t in vain, he wanted to hold out hope that humans and devils could co-exist, and he wanted to do it to honor her.

Despite his previous close relationship with Ryo, Akira’s love for humanity outshines whatever love he had towards Ryo, especially following Miki Makimura’s death. As Akira’s love for him decreased, Ryo’s love for Akira seemed to grow more and more, growing from a (questionably) platonic love into obsession- obsession with wanting Akira by his side as he destroyed the world, and a deep desire to be able to control him the way he could control the other devils.

Ryo Asuka

After his successful slaughter of the human race, Ryo was left with the consequences and the aftermath. He repeats what he said in the first episode- “Love’s not real. It doesn’t exist, therefore there is no sorrow. At least, that’s what I thought.” but this time he turns and asks “Akira, why am I the only one whos speaking?” and it is revealed that Ryo successfully killed Akira. For the first time in his life, Ryo begins to feel emotions to someone other than himself- he realizes, too late, that he too, loved Akira, in a way that was left open to interpretation by the audience. Ryo realizes he is now alone, and he killed the only person he loved. Perhaps that was his divine punishment from God- not being exiled from heaven, but made to live the life of a human and feel their emotions, and only then he could understand the true wrongs of what he had done, both towards humanity and to the one person he cared the most about.

Despite starting as something codependent and possessive, Ryo’s love towards Akira was real, and therefore so was his sorrow. He grieved the loss of his love, and in doing so he felt a minuscule amount of the pain he had caused Akira to go through by tipping the dominos that inevitably caused the death of the Makimuras.

At the end of it all, Ryo lost. He may have succeeded in wiping out humanity, but the loss of Akira stunted him and made him realize that he could have everything and destroy it all, but nothing could fill the void caused by the loss of a loved one, let alone when their death was caused by your actions. Satan had never been as human as he was at that moment, faced with the aftermath of everything and a newfound understanding that there was no reversing it.

Love through other characters:

Despite Ryo and Akira’s crumbling relationship as the series progressed, other forms of love blossomed and died, one being the unconditional love of Noel and Akiko Makimura towards their son, Taro,

Familial love:

Upon discovering that her son was now a Devilman after he consumed a dog to satiate his never-ending hunger, Akiko decided to leave to protect him as best as she could. Inevitably, Taro’s hunger began to hurt him, and so Akiko sacrificed herself so her son could eat. Noel Makimura found them after tirelessly searching, and he was distraught as he found Taro, in his Devilman form, consuming his mother. After seeing his father Taro began crying, perhaps out of the guilt of having killed his mother, or fear that his father would inevitably kill him, however, both Taro and Noel met their demise as a firing squad shot them both to death, with Noel’s final words being those begging the officers to stop because his son was in the tent.

Romantic love:

Episode five shows a reference to a deeper romantic love between Silene and Amon, as well as Caim and Silene. Amon was Silene’s lover at a certain point before he had assimilated with Akira, and Caim was devotedly in love with Silene. While Caim longs for Silene, she repeatedly puts him in his place and tells him she would never love him, yet despite this Caim still sacrifices himself for Silene in her fight with Amon.

Another direct relation to romantic love is seen through Koda and Junichi. Although not much is known about Junichi, his death greatly affected his boyfriend, Koda, who became distant from his former self and eventually turned against humanity to ‘survive’.

Miki (Miko) Kuroda’s confession of love towards Miki Makimura was another example of romantic love. Despite her confession being rushed, as the two were being hunted, Miko declared her love to Miki in the midst of it all, with Miki reciprocating, saying she loved her too. Miko proceeded to sacrifice herself then, to give Miki a head start in running in the hopes she’d get away. She spent her last moments begging for Miki to be spared, and ultimately her sacrifice was in vain, as Miki was baited with the deceased body of Wamu before being brutally killed and dismembered.

Ryo’s love for Akira could also be seen as romantic, and I believe this is the case. Akira is the only person Ryo seems to genuinely care and be concerned about, even if inevitably he betrays him, he seems like a softer person whenever he is around Akira, and he realizes his feelings for the other when it is too late.

All in all, Devilman Crybaby is laden with undertones of love, and the story itself is an analogy for many different kinds of love as well as how love can be corrupted by lust. Love is what helped Akira Fudo inevitably win against Satan, and love is the reason why the story of Crybaby is a time loop, the story repeating itself over and over again every time Ryo kills Akira. Love is Ryo’s divine punishment; he is made to suffer through love and loss over and over again in a never-ending loop as his punishment for defying God, and he can never change the order of events with each new cycle his mind is wiped clear once more. From Akira and Ryo’s troubled relationship to Taro and his mother, there is always some form of love being represented on screen, whether it is obvious or not, and by realizing that and understanding the emotions Ryo is neglecting to realize, the heavy aspects of the show seem to hit twice as hard as, at the end of it all, even in his mighty heavenly glory, Satan is reduced to nothing but a lonely man in the absence of love.

#devilman crybaby #dmcb #essay #ryo asuka #akira fudo #miki makimura #miko kuroda

12 notes · View notes

heyclickadee · 2 years ago

Text

Tech’s Alive, Part 7: Potential Visual Symbolism (cw warning for more discussions of character death)

Okay, so, several things before I start off. One, this isn’t really anything new. This is just about the blaster hole in the train car window and the “wings” that seem to appear in the clouds as Tech falls. Pretty much everyone’s pointed out the second of those things already (including me, in a post I wrote a couple of days after “Plan 99″ aired, when I really was still in denial and grasping at anything I could to prove to myself that Tech was alive), and I’m pretty sure I saw someone post about the first one, too, but I haven’t been able to find it. But these two things do a kind of neat thing if you take them together, so I figured I may as well write another one of these.

Second, I actually really want to write a post about foreshadowing and all the times Tech was connected to survival or got into a deadly situation and inexplicably got out of it alive this season, but I sort of want to do a full season two watch-through before writing it. Unfortunately, I’m kind of a filthy completionist and can’t just start with season two, and I just barely restarted season one, so it’s going to be a hot minute before I get to it.

And three, I guess--this is kind of me going back to standing in front of a conspiracy board and gesturing at it with a tin foil hat in hand.

But! Anyway!

In the moment where Tech falls, we get not one, but two little pieces of potential visual symbolism which may indicate Tech’s survival. The first of these is, of course, the part in the clouds on either side of Tech, which resembles nothing so much as a pair of black wings jutting out from his shoulders.

Now, this is a visual motif connected to making life out of death, survival, and freedom that was introduced back in “The Outpost” with the ice vulture and Crosshair, but I’m not sure it doesn’t apply to Tech, too. Tech, like Crosshair, is repeatedly connected to the idea of survival over the course of the season. I’ve been mulling over a whole post about this, but this season sees the two of them undergo parallel (still ongoing) arcs in which they have to reevaluate their own self-image as soldiers, and both of them, in the moments they’re each linked to the ice vulture imagery, ends up making a definitive, sacrificial choice very likely to get them killed, for the sake of someone else. For Crosshair, that’s the choice to refuse to go along with the Empire and kill Nolan as vengeance for Mayday; for Tech, that’s shooting the connection on the rail car and allowing himself to fall so that the others could get away. Neither of them completely expects to walk away from those choices. The difference in the end result (so far) is that we’ve already seen that Crosshair survived, even if surviving is brutal at the moment. We’re sort of just waiting to see that with Tech.

Furthermore, even though Crosshair is definitely THE ice vulture--I’m not going to argue that point--I’m going to come back to Mayday’s use of the plural when he talks about them: “Vicious creatures, but you have to admire ‘em. They find a way to survive.”

Mayday’s use of the plural here is actually kind of striking, because I think we only ever see one ice vulture over the course of that entire episode. It’s a large, solitary creature, covering a wide territory, and it could be the same one Mayday’s seen the entire time he was stationed at Barton-5. But the use of the plural (and the way that things work) means that there are others elsewhere, so that even though Crosshair is the character most clearly connected to them and especially to the one we actually see on screen, Tech could potentially be another one.

Because here’s the other thing; Crosshair and Tech don’t just have parallel arcs. They’re actually a lot alike, in a lot of ways. They’re both brilliant, calculating, ruthless in the sense that they can both see the most direct way to get something done, whether it’s moral (usually Crosshair) or safe (usually Tech); they can both come across to people who don’t know them well as standoffish or even cold, but they both love very deeply and affectionately, in their own ways, and would give anything for the people they love, whatever the cost to themselves; they’re both incredibly sarcastic and refuse to sugarcoat things; and they both deal with everything very privately. They’re not exactly the same, of course. Tech is a chatterbox (a lot of the time) while Crosshair hardly ever speaks, and Crosshair spends every second on screen EMOTING EVERYWHERE ALL the TIME, while Tech’s facial expressions are much subtler. Everything Crosshair knows has made him cynical and bitter, while everything Tech knows has made him curious and kind. And, of course, Crosshair is incredibly pragmatic and usually not thinking about the morality of any given situation; Tech is pragmatic as well, but usually refuses to set morality aside. (And that’s all honestly way oversimplifying it BUT this is getting a little long.) But they are enough alike that I think the ice vulture connection can apply to Tech, too(1), and that the apparent visual connection in this moment in “Plan 99″ isn’t totally off base. Meaning that the, “They find a way to survive,” bit could and probably does apply to him(2).

The second bit of visual symbolism in this scene is actually the blaster hole that Tech himself put through the window of the train car when he shot the connection hinge. If, say, the S&P department told the Bad Batch production team that they absolutely couldn’t show Tech’s body on screen or use any equivalents, like a crushed helmet or a body bag, or if the production team really did just want to use the goggles instead of anything more definitive, a really clean visual way they could have solidified Tech’s death would have been to have that blaster hole pass over Tech, either over his head or his chest, and then stay centered on him as he fell. It would be a sort of visual shorthand saying that Tech’s shot--the shot that cut the connection hinge--would also ultimately be the shot that killed him, or lead to his death at the very least. And we do actually see the blaster hole in the shot where Tech falls. It comes fairly close to him, but

it just barely grazes his left hand. Not over his head, not centered over his chest as he’s falling, just momentarily passing the end of a limb(3). (Aaaaaand the tin foil hat really starts to come out).

Now, not every single thing we see on screen is deliberate. Sometimes there are animation mistakes, and there are certainly concessions to budget. But the animation mistakes we tend to see are usually of a certain kind. Take, for example, Echo’s kama randomly appearing and disappearing from shot to shot in “Cornered,” or Hunter’s scarf doing the same during either “Pabu” or “Tipping Point.” Usually what’s happened there is either someone keying or turning the visibility of that piece of geometry off while they’re animating the character, and then forgetting to turn it back on again, and no one catching it until after the shot gets back from render. And there are rendering and compositing errors; I think there’s one shot from season one where you can actually see Tech’s goggles through his head, which was probably either a problem with render layers in maya or later on in compositing. And errors like that are usually not enough of a reason to re-render a scene. Rendering is expensive in terms of computer power and takes a good long while, especially if you’re rendering using arnold (which I think Lucasfilm Animation does--they don’t use redshift, as far as I know, but I could be totally wrong).

Stuff like this, however--where Tech is in this shot in relation to everything else--is usually more about staging and layout, something that’s usually decided back in the storyboard phase and solidified during animatics. And given just how much happens in the background of this show, the staging on The Bad Batch is usually pretty deliberate. It doesn’t mean that the blaster hole missing Tech is 100% on purpose, but it does make it far more likely that it is. Same goes for the black wings in the clouds.

Now, of course, even if the staging is deliberate, which I think it is, that doesn’t necessarily mean that either of these visual cues are meant to symbolize anything. I’m mostly just saying that they could and that that’s a possible way to read the scene. Taken together, these two visual cues could potentially be signaling that Tech will ultimately find a way to survive (like the ice vulture), so even though he might come very close to death, and may even brush it for a moment, it's going to pass him by (like the blaster hole).

1: Okay, you know what? It’s all of them. Crosshair’s THE ice vulture, but the “Vicious creatures, but you have to admire ‘em,” is all of them. After seeing what they can do when they’re not holding back in “The Summit,” “vicious creatures” absolutely applies to all of them, as far as I’m concerned.

2: Also, I’m sorry, but the silhouette of the ice vulture looks like the Marauder and when I think of the Marauder, I think of the whole batch, sure, but I especially think of Tech.

3: More fodder for the “Tech comes back, but definitely not unscathed” theories? Maybe.

#tech'salive #tech'saliveseries #the bad batch #tech bad batch #crosshair bad batch #just #tin foil hatting all over the place with this one #also I watched that gif about fifty times while typing this #Tech's little jaunty wave #like #sir...#SIR #WHY #but anyway at this point I'm writing these #so I can be the most insufferable gremlin #in about a year and a half to two years #I say tin foil hatting but I actually think I'm right about what these are meant to represent #but I'm open to being wrong

79 notes · View notes