#in her what. maybe not even 40s? that's horrifying

[elainemorisi]

I do think that the single most chilling thoughtless/accidental piece of timing in all of DS9 has got to be that Ziyal was conceived like, firmly within the same year as Kira Meru's (incredibly untimely and implausible) death

[glitter-stained]

The thing you need to remember about comics ages and timelines is that yeah it's messy there are retcons at stuff and it will never be clear and perfect. But also, DC has an interest portraying age the way they do. They have an interest in aging Barbara down so she can be Dick's pretty girlfriend with whom he raises a cute dog (and maybe a cute little family next perhaps?). They have an interest in trying to keep Tim young and draw him younger than he looks so they can milk his Robin's popularity for as long as possible. They have an interest in drawing Jason to make him look 40 when Bruce slits his throat, to make him look like a grown man fighting a teenager when fighting Mia even though they're the same age (though i mantain that mia is a little bit older), in having him call Tim kid even though they're the same age, in having him offer Tim a drink and Tim pointing out he's not legal when Jason isn't either. They have an interest in Jason looking older in Jim Aparo's art style in ADITF than he looked in precrisis or in 308. They have an interest in Steph magically looking older in War Games, where she gets tortured and brutally murdered, than the fun colourful round and much more youthful art from her Robin run. There are probably many more examples but bottom line it's not fucking innocent. DC knows how to hire artists that know how to draw children it's really not that hard. Characters who look young, characters who remind you that they are young, create more empathy; which is good when you want the public to continue to root for them, and bad when those characters challenge the status quo or that excess of empathy might create pushback after you decide to have them brutally murdered. DC can't have Batman grievously wounding and causing the death of his underage son, but if he looks as old as Batman? DC can't have Jason making a valid point about vigilantism being unsafe for Mia and relating with her with childhood sexual abuse subtext because it makes the heroes (and especially Batman) look bad, but if it looks like this is a grown ass man harassing a teenage girl, then it's clear who is the villain, it's okay, no problem. DC needs Barbara to be younger so the power dynamic between her and Dick fits their idea of a perfect little nuclear family much better and they can shove Barbara back into the role of Batgirl even though she is very much a girl rather than a woman. DC needs Steph to look older when she's tortured so they can be edgy without people being too horrified at them doing something horrifying, DC needs Jason and Steph to look older on the day they die because young looking= innocent which makes it so much harder to victim-blame. DC needs Mia to look younger than Jason so they can make it look like the good old "good victim/bad victim" dichotomy and even though that's not what the story is actually about, regardless of how much it disrespects Mia's character to do so. DC needs Jason to look ugly because it's harder to empathize with ugly people and it makes it so much clearer who is the bad guy and who is the good one, and it's a much easier dichotomy, so much more comfortable than challenging the whole mythos around which Batman is built. DC needs Barbara to be sexy in their traditional male-gaze way, because this is the audience they're trying to appeal to.

So like, I know that I'm nit-picking when I say "actually according to any and all logic Jason is younger than Tim by a couple of months and than Mia by around three years". Or when I say "they should bring back Dickbabs' old age difference" or even interact with Dickbabs as if they still have that difference and refuse to interact with Tom Taylor's version of the ship. I know comics are incoherent and the timeline is messy; but just because it's messy, just because it's always been, doesn't mean it's innocent. So I'm gonna keep nitpicking, and I'm gonna stay an annoying bitch, because I refuse to allow comics to manipulate me out of my empathy. And because I don't see everything and am very aware of how easy it is to be manipulated even when you're careful, I encourage you to add to this with things you've noticed whether it's in portrayal or in art about character age, appearance, or any other device they might use to manipulate our perception of the characters -and what narrative these resorts serve.

[epicbuddieficrecs]

Weekly Recap | January 20th-26th 2025

On time this week, woohoo! And less thsan 40 days until season 8B !!

Special mention to all of @tizniz's drabbles that I've been reblogging, which you can find on her tumblr or on ao3 at E & E: A Buddie Drabble Collection !

Let me know if I'm missing a tag for someone!

Complete

home is where you've called my name by atlasblue85/ @atlasblue85 (Post-S8E8: Wannabes | 3K | General): Buck plays a game with himself. It goes something like this: for every house Eddie outright rejects, he adds an item to his list of why Eddie shouldn't move to El Paso. He doesn't know what the threshold is, that magic number that will make him finally speak up and express his thoughts to Eddie, but until he finds it, this is how he's coping. They're up to nine so far. Nine perfectly good houses, nine reasons Eddie shouldn't go.

you're a dog (i'm your man) by withmeornotatall / @chronicowboy (Dog Shelter AU | 3K | General): "Hey." He turns around, leans against the doorframe, tries to look casual. "Maybe, only if you're free of course, you could come round and let Chris pick out a band aid for you tonight. Don't want you bleeding out before you can get your Spider-Man band aid." Buck lights up like the fucking sun. Oh no. Eddie has one rule: never take a dog home. But he thinks Buck might be worth the risk. (OR: eddie is a dog trainer with patience, buck is a shelter worker with more bark than bite)

🔥 My Mouth Don't Move When I'm In Too Deep by taegyungie (PWP, Semi-Public Sex | 7K | Explicit): But here’s the thing: Eddie’s taken giant mouthfuls of life and chewed every last one of them up. He’s taken enough, he’s still taking enough - he doesn’t want to be the one to ask for it. All he can do is offer himself up, over and over, and hope that Buck will finally get the hint and dig his claws into what’s been his from the very start.

🔥 Five Years by aubrey_writes (Blip AU | 8K | Mature): Buck gets blipped. Eddie's left behind. A love story told through what Eddie did in his absence.

Liminal Space by ameliahart (NDE, Getting Together | 8K | Teen): Eddie Diaz dies on a sunny afternoon in January. It seems fitting, he thinks, that it should happen like this: trapped beneath three floors of a collapsed apartment building, a piece of rebar through his right lung, and his eyes on the love of his life. Because of course Buck is here with him, watching horrified as Eddie’s love and life bleed out around him.

Buck, Bedbugged and Bewildered by writedontfight (Post-S8A AU | 8K | Explicit): Buck gets bedbugs, so he's staying at Eddie's until they're gone.

🔥 everything you need (put all you need in me) by jaekyu (PWP, FWB | 9K | Explicit): Eddie imagines it. The faux-domesticity of grocery shopping with his best friend and full-time fuckbuddy, filled up with come like a jam donut or something. It would be kind of ironic. It would be definitely, wholeheartedly, totally erotic.

My boy only breaks his favorite toys by paleredheadinascifi (Amnesia, Post-S8A | 10K | Teen): Eddie wakes up five years in the future. It turns out five years is all it takes to ruin a friendship and run your life into the ground. Or, Eddie gets hurt and his apparently now ex-best friend Buck hops on a plane to El Paso. They figure out what the fuck happened together.

🔥 Firelight by Daisies_and_Briars/ @cal-daisies-and-briars (Canon Divergent, Post-S7, Monster Eddie, HOH Buck | 61K | Explicit): When, in the worst of missing Christopher, Eddie suddenly finds himself having literally turned into a monster, Buck - who is also dealing with a newfound hearing loss diagnosis - is willing to do anything to protect him. Even from himself. OR: Eddie is a creature from Swedish folklore, feat. HOH!Buck

WIP

Kiss Me Once Cause You Know I Had A Long Night by I_still_dont_understand_13 / @sherlockcrossing (Prompt collection | 35/? | 23K | Teen): 100 kiss prompts.

35. 44. A goodbye kiss, but neither of you can quite let go 

🔥 An Angry Blade by Daisies_and_Briars/ @cal-daisies-and-briars (Post-8x05: Masks, Cursed Buck | 1/6 | 8K | Mature): Buck finds out that the curse of Billy Boils is VERY real, and far more complicated and dangerous than he could have expected.

🔥 Gentle On My Mind by Daisies_and_Briars/ @cal-daisies-and-briars (Canon Divergent, Shannon Lives, Buck/Eddie/Shannon | 12/? | 76K | Explicit): In which Shannon lives, tells a lie, and sends hers, Eddie's, and Buck's lives down a very different path.

🔥 Doe & a Drop of Golden Sun by ohstars/ @oh-stars (Canon Divergent, Dad Buck | 8/? | 37K | Teen): Buck doesn't mean to keep secrets from everyone, but he also can't talk about the pain he experiences on a day to day basis. With his nine-year-old living across the country and his custody limited to one monthly visit, Buck doesn't know how to share this part of himself. How does he tell his team of six years that he's had a kid this whole time? How does he tell his sister? How does he tell his Edd-- best friend? It's fine. The universe isn't going to give him a choice in the matter when the worst thing imaginable becomes his reality.

Podfic

Sunlight is Fire (Burning is a Matter of Degrees) by Favourite_alias // fic by letmetellyouaboutmyfeels/ @letmetellyouaboutmyfeels (Incubbi Buck, FWB | 1-1.5h | Explicit): In the wake of Buck's leg injury, Eddie learns that his friend needs some unusual methods to help him recover. Eddie's willing to do whatever it takes to help Buck, and it's not like this could make his quiet pining any worse, right?

Bed Sharing Concerto in Monsterfucking No. 3 by Favourite_alias // fic by letmetellyouaboutmyfeels/ @letmetellyouaboutmyfeels (Werewolf Eddie, Human Buck, Only One Bed | 10-20min | Explicit): Buck has the worst fucking luck. His only consolation here is that Eddie’s with him, so at least he’s not alone in a cabin with no Wifi, no central heat, no cell service, and no proper winter gear. The water works, the pipes haven’t frozen (yet) so at least he can get briefly clean. He’s so focused on scrubbing the day away that it’s not until he gets out and heads into the bedroom that he realizes— There’s only one bed.

A Chorus of Howls by Favourite_alias // fic by letmetellyouaboutmyfeels (Werewolves, PWP | 10-20min | Explicit): Buck is running through the woods. He’s on two feet, four, two again, dodging around trees, kicking up dirt, leaping and landing hard. Behind him, sometimes, he thinks he can hear another set of feet—a glimpse out of the corner of his eye, black on black, shadow on shadow— There. There. He can smell his pursuer’s blood and he runs faster, fast as he can. He’s not going to lose. His blood is up and running and so is he.

Duet for Two Monsters by Favourite_alias // fic by letmetellyouaboutmyfeels (Werewolf Eddie, Succubus Buck | 20-30min | Explicit): Buck’s been meaning to tell Eddie for a while, now. Especially now that they’re both single again. He needs to tell Eddie, because he’s pretty sure—he thinks he’s sure—that Eddie loves him back. And he won’t be intimate with Eddie without telling him. Of course, it’s a bit hard to start that conversation, on a logistical level. Hey so I have horns and a tail and feed off people’s orgasms, fun, right?

🔥 [Podfic] Buddie, It's Cold Outside by diazaster287 // fic by terranobis (Christmas, Hallmark AU | 1-1.5h | Not Rated): Big City businessman Evan Buckley travels to a small town Christmas Village in an attempt to save his personal and professional life, but when he meets the local father Eddie Diaz, he finds that he just might get the greatest present he could ever ask for.

[ginnsbaker]

All Of Your Pieces (2 - Liar! Liar!)

Chapter Summary: You wake up one morning compelled to say the truth and nothing but the truth. Wanda seizes this opportunity to ensure everything remains under her control. Meanwhile, Jimmy and Darcy finally discover what happened to Agent Monica Rambeau. Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Female Reader Chapter word count: 3k+ | Chapter Tags: Manipulation

A/N: Billy is my favorite twin, if that isn't obvious already :P // More author's notes here.

Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist

It doesn’t require a calendar to track the days here in Westview.

It's the kind of repetition that settles over suburban life, where dates fade into insignificance and days blur into a seamless loop, distinguishable only by the changing seasons. But even the current season—fall—is as predictable in its passage as ever, like storybook weather in its perfection. The birds are always chirping, the sun rises promptly at 6:40 every morning—never a minute early or a second late—and it never rains. Just endless clear skies, day after day, until the sun sets at five.

You've been chewing on this odd feeling ever since you and Wanda arrived in this part of New Jersey, but today, there's something extra. You can't pin it down, just that it's…there. Today feels different—more than usual—and you didn’t really get it until breakfast, when your mouth slipped past your usual tact with the kids.

“Mommy, do you like it?” Tommy asks, his eyes big and hopeful as he holds up a crayon drawing of what looks like the family standing outside a perfect little house. 

Perfect. Honestly, you’re getting pretty tired of everything being so perfect around here.

“It's...very colorful,” you start, the usual praise ready on your tongue, but what comes out instead is, “Though it's kind of all over the place, isn’t it? Maybe you could try to stay inside the lines a bit more.”

Speaking aloud is like sending an email: once it's out there, it's out there for good. Even so, an email would have been the better option. At least then, you could just hack into Tommy’s account—if he ever figures out how to set one up—and erase your blunder for good.

Could having a magical wife somehow save you from this mess?

It’s too late though. Tommy's face crumples, and Wanda doesn't seem keen on throwing you a lifeline, just a dirty look from across the table as you sip your morning coffee.

“But if you’re going for an abstract—” you start, but your son is already sulking off to his room. 

Billy digs into his cereal, blissfully unaware. Wanda, on the other hand, looks as if she's ready to rip open a portal to another realm and hurl you out of this one.

That can’t be good.

“You really upset him,” she says, arms crossing over her chest. “He was so proud of that drawing.”

“I know, I feel awful about it,” you groan, burying your face in your hands.  Seeing your genuine remorse, Wanda eases up, giving you a moment to stew in your guilt before she comes back to the table with a stack of pancakes.

“Here, eat up,” she says, setting them down in front of you.

You pick up your fork, cutting into the stack. They look perfect—golden brown, with the butter melting just right. You take a bite, and before you can stop yourself, the words are out.

“They're a bit dry,” you blurt out, instantly regretting your words. But once you start, you can't seem to stop. “And this maple syrup... it tastes kind of artificial.” 

Wanda gasps. “Excuse me?”

“Shit—”

“Language, Y/N!” she snaps, but it's too late, the curse is already out there, floating in the air like a bad smell. 

In the next moment, something strange happens—your lips tingle, and suddenly you can't feel your mouth. Alarmed, you touch your face, finding smooth skin where your lips should be. You try to protest, but only muffled noises emerge. Fear surges as you point frantically at your face. You attempt to scream, but no sound comes out.

Seeing your flustered pantomime, Wanda’s face goes from angry to horrified. With a wave of her hand, your mouth is back in its place, and you’re gasping, both of you staring at each other, not believing what just happened. Meanwhile, Billy is giggling, clapping his tiny hands together, and gleefully repeating the S-word you accidentally let slip earlier. 

You and Wanda just continue to stare at each other in shock, but then you glance at Billy, his innocent delight completely oblivious to the fact he’s saying something he shouldn’t, and you see the corners of Wanda’s mouth start to twitch. A moment later, she’s laughing unabashedly, and before you know it, you’re doing the same. 

Despite the peculiarities of your life here in Westview, you don't think you've ever been this content. Before Wanda, the idea of having your own family—your own kids, two no less—seemed unthinkable. You never imagined you'd have a wife, a house in a quiet suburb, or hear one of your sons swear for the first time. Westview is far from normal, but then again, so is your family. As you watch Wanda's laughter taper into soft giggles, you think it's impossible to love her any more than you already do.

Wanda made this all conceivable for you.

“Sorry, honey,” you say, though still a bit shaken by the ordeal. “I didn't mean to be so rude.”

Wanda looks even more remorseful than you feel—which makes sense, considering she did erase your mouth, however briefly.

“And I probably shouldn't have... you know, removed your mouth,” she murmurs, guiltily picking at her cuticles.

Admittedly, it was terrifying—one of the scariest experiences you've ever had. You certainly don't want a repeat. It makes you slightly wary of your wife, but your love for Wanda outweighs your fear. Standing beside one of the most powerful beings in the universe takes courage, and you've built up plenty over the years together. You're made for this—for her, for this kind of love.

“Apology accepted,” you say, mustering a weak smile.

Wanda's face floods with relief, then quickly contorts into worry. “What’s with you today?”

“I can't seem to lie,” you confess, realizing there's no easy way to skirt the truth. “I don't know what's happening, but I just can't stop saying exactly what's on my mind.”

She stares at you, confused and a little hurt. “What do you mean you can’t lie today? So, you’re usually lying?”

Before you can smooth that over, Billy looks up from his cereal, fixing you with that stern look that’s pure Wanda. “Mommy, lying is bad.”

Wanda’s gaze softens as she looks at Billy, then back at you, the seriousness returning. “Billy, why don’t you go brush your teeth and check on your brother? Your mommy and I need to talk for a little bit.”

“Okay, mama.”

Billy scampers off, and you feel your stature shrink under your wife's gaze, suddenly feeling every bit the child.

“What’s this about not being able to lie?” Wanda asks once it’s just the two of you.

You shake your head. “Look, it’s not that I usually lie, but today, I can’t even if I wanted to. It’s like a—a truth filter permanently switched off.”

Wanda takes a few moments to mull over your words. “Oh…” she starts, sounding half-convinced. “Maybe it’s stress,” she throws out after a beat. “You’ve been working really hard lately, haven’t you? Perhaps your mind is just overwhelmed and you need a mental day off.”

You had thought of that, but the whole situation seemed too weird for such a simple explanation. Then again, maybe seeing shadows where there aren't any is just another stress symptom. So you let it slide.

“Yeah, maybe you’re right. I’ll see if I can call in sick next week,” you mumble, trying to sound cheerful about the prospect of a break.

Wanda comes around the table and cups your face in her hands. You let her pinch your cheeks together, feeling both stubborn and a bit sorry for yourself. It's silly, but all you want is for Wanda to coddle you and make you feel better, not to dish out logical reasons for why you’re not yourself today. 

“Well, if you're stuck with the truth, let's have some fun with it,” Wanda says.

You swallow hard, aware that any question she might ask now would either please or upset her—and there seems to be no middle ground.

“Uhm, honey, I don’t think—”

“Do you love me?”

You smirk at her; that’s an easy one. “More than anything else.”

“Only me?”

You laugh at her silly follow-up. This reminds you of the early days of your courtship when Wanda was a bottomless well of need. You didn't mind at all, knowing she needed to hear it as often as you made her feel it. Initially, you were a bit bothered, wondering if your actions weren't speaking loudly enough for her to trust you. Eventually, it became less frequent, until the question turned into a statement—You love me—to which you responded with your own: You love me too. Since then, it quickly became how you say ‘I love you’ to each other.

“Only you. I'd sooner die than love someone else,” you confidently tell her.

Her smile in return is a beautiful riddle—a riddle you can’t figure out. 

“Wanda, I—”

“Do you like living here?”

“Sometimes.” The words slip out before you can think, and you're relieved to realize that your feelings about Westview are honestly not all negative. “It’s a nice town. Quiet and cheap.”

Wanda's face does something subtle. You can't quite read her reaction, but it's clear she has more questions when she doesn't park on your answer, instead moving on to something else. 

“Do you... do you remember how we got here?"

You blink at her. Initially, the question seems a bit absurd. But as you try to formulate a response, “Of course. We got married at…” you stall, your brain blanking on the when and where of your own wedding. “...then we moved into this house last…”

You try to pin down the date, but it slips through your mind like sand.

“Wanda?” A laugh escapes you, but there's a nervous edge to it. “Why can’t I remember any of the details?”

The last thing she says before flicking her wrist is, “Because you’re not supposed to.” But even that slips away, scrubbed clean from your memory by Wanda’s sweeping hand.

–

“Jimmy?”

“Yeah?”

“I think I found her.”

Jimmy hurried over to the tight corner of their camp where Darcy had practically set up shop for the past few days. Since the signals were first picked up, she's taken charge of monitoring the transmissions, her main focus being to locate Agent Monica Rambeau. They've already confirmed that many of Wanda's bizarre, sitcom-style characters are, in fact, real residents of Westview, somehow trapped inside whatever anomaly Wanda seems to be in the center of.

“That’s Monica, right?” Darcy points at the grainy image on the retro television set they've been using to watch the town's activities. The broadcasts come through at odd hours, which makes every second of surveillance crucial. 

Jimmy leans in closer, squinting at the screen where a woman bearing a striking resemblance to Monica appears. “It sure looks like her,” he confirms.

The woman onscreen is dressed in distinctly 70s fashion—a bold, patterned blouse with wide lapels tucked into high-waisted bell-bottoms. Her hair is styled in voluminous, bouncy curls that softly frame her face, completing the look that is so far removed from the S.W.O.R.D. uniform Jimmy last saw her in.

“I wonder what character she’s playing in the show…” Darcy muses.

A handful of nearby crew quietly look on as Monica steps out of a Hornet, a stack of papers clutched in her hand, and strides confidently toward one of those cookie-cutter houses lining the street—yours and Wanda's.

“Stay frosty, Monica,” Darcy mutters under her breath, staring unblinkingly at the screen as they watch her knock gently on the door.

It’s Wanda who greets her with a guarded smile. “Hello, can I help you?” she asks, sizing up the stranger on her doorstep.

“Hi, there. I’m Geraldine. You must be Wanda,” Monica says. Jimmy and Darcy exchange a look, both arriving at the same conclusion: whatever spell has ensnared the other residents, Monica appears to be under it too.

“Do I know you?” Wanda asks, her teeth gritted in what she hopes passes for a smile. But Wanda, she’s got a tell. It’s never hard to see when she’s faking it. The sitcom laugh track of this Westview tries to spin it as humor, but it’s clear to anyone—she’s not thrilled about Geraldine’s arrival at all.

“Oh, I’m sorry, has Y/N not mentioned who I am?” Geraldine asks mildly,  like she’s bringing up some small, casual detail—which, for Wanda, it isn’t.

“Honey, who's at the door?” Your voice drifts from the living room just before you step into view, crunching on an apple. When you spot the visitor, your face lights up with recognition, puzzling Wanda even more.

“Evening, ma'am,” Geraldine nods at you with a polite smile.

Wanda keeps darting glances between you and Geraldine, trying to piece together what's going on. And what’s frustrating her is you don’t seem privy at all to her disconcertment.

“I told you to just call me Y/N,” you admonish with a light grin. “What brings you here?”

“W-Who is she?” Wanda jumps in, keeping up her charade of a pleasant surprise.

“It’s Geraldine,” you tell Wanda, expecting her to recognize the name. Her blank, slightly annoyed expression forces you to jog your memory and that’s when it hits you that your wife has no idea what you’re talking about. “She’s my new assistant. Didn’t I tell you?” you say sheepishly.

“No, honey, you certainly did not,” Wanda replies, her smile stretched a bit too tight. She turns to Geraldine. “Aren’t offices usually closed by five?”

“They sure are, Wanda,” Geraldine replies cheerfully. It bothers Wanda how Geraldine uses ‘ma’am’ for you but casually drops her first name like they're old friends.

“So, why are you here?” Wanda asks, no longer bothering to hide her irritation.

“Oh, just dropping off some reports that Y/N needed to review tonight. Urgent stuff, you know?” Geraldine holds up the stack of papers in her hand as proof.

“Yikes,” Darcy winces at the tension practically leaking through the screen, feeling that deep cringe of secondhand embarrassment for Monica's obliviousness to Wanda's ire.

Fortunately for your assistant, you position yourself between her and Wanda, intercepting just as your wife’s temper begins to flare. You remember Wanda’s warm, almost syrupy kindness with Agnes when she first appeared, which only makes her sudden cold front toward Geraldine unreasonable.

“I completely forgot about those reports. Thanks for bringing them over, Geraldine,” you say, nudging her toward the exit. “See you Monday!”

Then, you close the door before she can add anything else, sparing both women from each other.

“So, why haven't you mentioned Geraldine before?” Wanda asks, not sparing another second to grill you about your new assistant.

You frown, thinking back. “I thought I did.”

Wanda looks at you for a long moment, her expression inscrutable. “Are you sure there’s nothing else you’re not telling me?” she demands, her eyes searching yours.

“Uh-oh, trouble in paradise,” Darcy sing-songs, stuffing a handful of popcorn into her mouth. Jimmy reaches over, trying to sneak a handful, but she swats him away.

You give her a lopsided smile, doing your best to charm your way out of the situation. The compulsive honesty from earlier isn't nagging at you anymore, but really, there's no need to sugarcoat anything in this case.

“Sounds like someone's a little jealous,” you tease lightly. And there it is again—that distant chorus of an audience, laughing on cue. You really need to talk to Wanda about this; it could be linked to all the experiments she's been doing with her powers.

Wanda barks out a forced laugh right into your smirking face. “Jealous? Me? There's no way I'm jealous of anyone, especially not Geraldine.”

“Then why did you look like you wanted to throw her out yourself when she showed up?”

Wanda's smile fades a tad, then she just shrugs. “Because she was interrupting our family dinner time. That's all.”

Normally, you'd draw this out until she admits she's jealous, but that could take all night. Right now, all you want is to kiss your beautiful wife, the only one you see. It's getting late, and not being able to touch her all day is driving you a little mad with want.

“Fine, you're not jealous,” you whisper, moving in, wrapping your arms around her waist. “Why would you be? You’re the prettiest, smartest, most amazing woman anyone could ask for.”

Wanda melts into you almost instantly. “You love me.”

“You love me too,” you say before leaning in to peck her lips. She hums happily against your lips, but just then, you hear the boys complaining about being hungry. Sharing a smile, you both head back to sort out dinner.

The episode ends, credits roll, and Darcy groans, tossing her head back. “No way. I need more of this,” she huffs, stabbing her finger at the screen. “They're perfect together. Shame Y/N’s supposedly dead. I hate spoilers.”

“She doesn’t look dead to me from here,” Jimmy says.

“My theory? That’s not actually her. I bet Wanda or someone did something to make a rando look like Y/N.”

“You think?”

Darcy nods. “With all the surreal stuff happening here? Yeah, I'd put money on it, dude.”

“Maybe you’re right,” Jimmy concedes. “Anyway, it’s a relief to see Agent Rambeau’s alive and kicking.”

“As Geraldine,” Darcy reminds him. “I wonder who chooses their names for them. Back to Y/N, what did that Howard guy have to say about Y/N being dead but so alive in Westview?”

“It’s Hayward,” Jimmy corrects her with a sigh. “He doesn’t seem interested in her or anyone else trapped inside. He’s more interested in the energy field surrounding the town.”

“And their boys?” Darcy adds, not listening to Jimmy’s rant. “We don’t have any public record of their true identities in Westview, right?”

Jimmy gives her a sidelong glance. “No records, no data. As far as Westview’s concerned, they just… appeared.”

“Typical,” she mutters, jotting down notes without looking away from the TV's static, hoping there’s a bonus episode or something.

But the screen stays blank, nothing but static for hours on end.

–

After hours of making love, Wanda lies next to you, watching you sleep. She’s used her powers on you before, but never here, never without your consent since you became a couple. Casting the hex was the easy part, the lying to you—not so much. Acting like she didn't know what was troubling you had hurt her more than she let on. 

She wanted to check if you were still happy here, still content, or if doubts were starting to creep in. And knowing you—the real you—you'd probably lie to Wanda just to keep her happy, just to ensure she has everything she wants. You've always prioritized her needs over your own, always stepping aside to let her shine. She wants the same for you, but you always manage to outdo her in every act of self-sacrifice.

When you started asking her about the exact dates of the wedding you thought you two actually had, it confirmed you still had no idea why you’re here, or what she’s done. She was relieved, honestly, because it meant she could stop forcing you to tell the truth, a spell she’d put on you out of desperation more than distrust.

She isn't sure how long this will last, just that it might be the most happiness she'll ever know, even if it's a delicate, fleeting kind. How did she even do this? Wanda doesn’t even know. It just happened—like a rose that has sprouted off a barren land. And now, despite having everything she's ever wanted, there’s always this nagging fear that it could all fall apart.

Quietly, she makes a promise to herself to fix things. She promises to you and her boys, she’ll find a way to make this life real, something that won’t just vanish like everything else she’s ever loved.

[varpusvaras]

Winnick will come this close to writing a good, rightfullly angry character with BPD/CPTSD and ruin it by making him his conception of "a dangerous psychopath" because dc's understanding of mental illness begins and ends with the joker.

I like that Jason was angry i'm not gonna lie I enjoy the "bad victim who doesn't accept that they were a necessary sacrifice, who doesn't think what happened to them is something they should be expected to tolerate, like fuck your greater good, you weren't there, it isn't worth this." I think even looking at Jason's past before getting adopted he has reason to be angry, like he is poor af and starving and he had to take care of his mom and his dad is in jail because he couldn't see another way to provide and he gets trafficked -he has so many reasons to be angry. And he's not, and I love jaybin, but I think there are so many ways and things he can be angry about without it feeling classist. And I love that he can't emotionally regulate, that he has so clearly BPD/CPTSD because why the fuck would he not, have you seen his life (and that's not even counting the csa hc, which i am because willfully and consistently implying csa and then not addressing it/denying it feels like feeding into a culture of taboo that ruins lives and getting away with covert victim-blaming at the same time). The issue is that they lack finesse or any kind of understanding of anger. The think anger is a personality trait. They think angry = evil. They think being angry means you're violent at and about everything, that you shoot indiscriminately even though you've known better since you were a kid, that you're suddenly treating women like shit (which, wtf seriously) which okay maybe THEY treat women shitty for no reason when they're angry, but that'd be more of a them problem I'd say. Their portrayal of anger is classist because their conception of emotions hasn't evolved since fucking Descartes. Think anger = bad = poor and not only doesn't it occur to them that this is classist, they so instinctively assign moral value to the concepts of poor and angry that they don't realise it and just conceptualise poor=angry and end up with incredibly classist portrayals of anger. You can write characters that are mentally ill and violent without being ableist, you can write characters that are poor and angry without being classist, but that requires a level of respect for people, introspection, humility willingness to learn about the sensitive topics you are exploring that is simply not accessible to Winnick and so many other dc writers.

And here comes my very hot take that I'm too cowardly to say off anon: the pit shouldn't have healed Jason's malnutrition. Like, outside of canon I love big jay, I love big men who are emotionally vulnerable and need comfort etc. but in canon? It just comes off as another way to adultify Jason, and make the horrible things that happen to him acceptable. Jason "sleeping with Talia because he is fucked up about Bruce" because they both look like adults until you realise this is actually just rape and you can't put any responsibility of Talia taking advantage of the kid under her care (very ooc of course) on the child himself. Jason fighting Mia looking like a 40 years old beating up a teenage girl when they're the same damn age. Fucking Ethiopia 2.0. And Jason's murders as well, for the matter. Like don't get me wrong the duffle bag of doom is an iconic villain move, but it's just that: a massive shock effect and a "psychopathic" move. We shouldn't need Jason beheading anyone to be horrified, because just one murder, if written correctly, should be enough. A child killing someone is a terrible thing. A child being put in a position where they think killing someone is the only solution to ending suffering (thinking about the Garzonas case) is a terrible thing. A kid trying to kill his murderer (because fuck his death has to matter it has to) and only begging to be allowed it should be horrifying. Jason, with his unhealed malnutrition making him look a couple of years smaller and younger than his physical age, should look his mental age. It should be impossible to look away from the reality of what he is: a traumatized teenager who wasn't allowed to grow up. And he has a gun. This is already a horror story.

Make utrh!Jason a villain if you must, but have the guts to sit with it. Don't shove the fact that he was a hero and a victim under the rug because it's uncomfortable. Sit with the unease that sometimes someone is doing something bad and is suffering a lot, and maybe they're doing the bad thing because they don't know how to survive the suffering, and suddenly it's not easy separating hero from villain from victim. Your imaginary lines in the sand will not protect you from the crude reality of the complicated and shitty situations you have chosen to depict; you open the can of worms now you can't look away and let the worms roam free just because you're squeamish.

How does it feel to be psychic and be in my head and write part of my essay on Jason for me? Fuck, I have so much to say about this but I need a good night of sleep to formulate it correctly. Look for a longer answer tomorrow, but in the meantime, everyone sit down and look at this and look at it hard. Thank you.

[redflagshipwriter]

Halfa Cass 11 pt 1

masterpost

They had a teensy bit of a war council about the new problem when Danny came back from work.

“On the bright side, they did send someone to take away Brick,” Danny said optimistically. He tried, anyway. He had a grim and depressing certainty that he was going to have to do something drastic and violent to solve this problem. That sucked. It sucked so hard. He looked at his knees. “But. Yeah. They probably will come after you to make me make some dumb ugly guns or whatever.”

“Okay,” Jazz said calmingly, “Every problem has solutions, Danny.” 

…He scrunched up his face. He didn’t outright argue but he didn’t really see a great solution off hand.

Jazz’s big brain was clearly churning through the angles. She went quiet for a while, and then broke the silence in a thoughtful tone. “We could theoretically just kill the mob. All of them.” She looked up at the water stained ceiling and mouthed something that might be calculations. How many mob members she thought there might be? A plan to do this?

Danny blinked at her from his perch on the kitchen counter, hunched under the cupboard in a way that made him feel secure. “I thought this was going to go the other way. Like, with you telling me not to overreact.” He watched his big sister with a sort of horrified fascination.

Jazz waved that away with a hand. “I am not starting over again. I’m halfway through with my Gen Eds.” The dark smudges under her eyes looked even deeper in the shitty artificial lighting of their apartment. “The problem with that is that I only make about 1200 a month, and at that rate, we will never get you your identification.” She scowled and dug her fingers onto the tabletop as if she was going to squeeze cooperation out of it by force. “We sort of need that income source to get you into university on time. It’s important for your social development to get you back around your age mates sooner rather than later.”

He raised a hand like he had a question in class. “I thought the problem with that was going to be that murder is bad,” Danny said hesitantly. He was used to Jazz being the voice of morality. Were they doing something different now?

“The worst thing that happens to them is that they have to live near Skulker,” Jazz said waspishly. “Anyway, it’s on them for trying to make you build weapons. They’re the rude ones. They don’t get to throw off my twenty year plan.”

…Danny pinched his lips together to avoid the petty correction that they wouldn’t be living near Skulker, per se. Fair enough. The whole life or death thing did feel a bit less serious when you hung out with lots of dead people and they were just, like, people. Murder was, like, a conversation from a meat existence to a goo existence. It wasn’t nice, but it also wasn’t nice to threaten people’s sisters. 

“Speaking of, I need to get to work so that I have my perfect attendance record for a good recommendation for the next job.” Jazz scrubbed at her face with the back of a hand and then dragged it down, squishing her cheek. “Do you want me to bring back breakfast?”

Yes.

“No,” Danny lied. He shimmied down off the counter and into his shoes. “I’ll walk you there. I’m sick of being inside. Maybe I’ll pick up groceries.”

Jazz snorted and rolled her eyes, but she grabbed her bag without making fun of him. He walked with her down cold, filthy sidewalks and waved goodbye on the street across from her building. Danny pretended not to worry. She did him the favor of not pointing out that he was definitely going to come back at 4:30 am to walk her home. 

Danny locked the door when he got back in, but he felt kinda dumb about it. 

If this mob or gang or whatever (was there a difference?) knew where he lived and wanted in, the door was not going to keep them out. Maybe he should just leave it unlocked so that they didn’t bust it open and break the lock, actually. A lock was what, 40 bucks? He didn’t want to have to replace that.

He went back and unlocked it on that basis. Then he screwed up his face to think.

…There wasn’t really a reason for them to come. He hadn’t made them mad yet. It would be different once they came back and he said he really wasn’t going to make them any weapons. 

Danny locked it anyway and then set a timer for 4 in the morning. It was early for him to turn in but he grabbed the pillow off of the shelf and put it back on the sofa anyways. Hopefully he’d get to sleep like, right away.

[zivazivc]

what's your headcanon about the bergens keeping the trolls as prisoners?

OHOHOHOHO! fair warning, my headcanons tend to be really dark and this is no exception.

I'm not typing this anew, I'm just pasting two blocks of text I sent to a friend via tumblr messenger on two different occasions, so it might feel a bit disjointed while reading:

block of text one:

okay basically in my hc trollstice is also a once a year thing but it’s not barbaric in the sense that on that day they let the bergens into the cage and they just go ham catching trolls left and right. in my hc king peppy and chef actually have a fucked up agreement where chef shows up a few weeks/days before trollstice on a particular year and tells him how many trolls she needs that year and then the trolls pick that year’s victims by lot (only trolls who are 40 and older participate (with a few exceptions like obvs the king, but also rosiepuff but more on that some other time)) (also the age limit used to be much higher at the very beginning but they had to adjust to their population growing smaller). they implemented this to keep the kids safe and also to kinda force the population to reproduce more, because everyone starts having kids young bc they want to see them grow up before there’s a chance that they can get picked for the next trollstice (it’s also why jd and freesia we’re already thinking of starting a family at 18) ANYWAY during all this the trolls have been secretly digging the escape tunnels for years, and they are getting close but they keep pushing the date back because of cave ins or other setbacks. ANYWAY the bergen king has a baby son who will be old enough for his very first trollstice in a few years, and the chef being a demon spawn proposes that the prince’s very first troll should be a princess. king peppy and everyone is horrified because viva is still young and he tries arguing that she’s the only heir to the throne. So then Chef is like “then make a new princess for the prince, you still have two years time”. SO THEN the king is forced to have poppy (hence why she’s so much younger than viva 🙃) but the trolls are still all horrified of the idea that the bergens would eat a child so they collectively start working extra hard in the tunnels and they manage to finish them just in time for the prince’s first trollstice…….

this would also explain why chef was so confident about where baby poppy was located at the last trollstice at the beginning of the first movie when she walked into the cage and knew which pod to grab - it all had to be planned in advance.

AND there being no “old” trolls would also explain why so much life wisdom and knowledge about the outside world managed to disappear during the time the trolls were imprisoned. no grandmas or grandpas to pass the knowledge on.

.

.

block of text two:

in my hc rosiepuff isn't the brothers’ grandma but is actually their great or maybe even their great great grandma, who was alive when the bergens arrived. she was from a family of like “biologists” who studied plants and fungi and knew how to take anything in their natural surroundings and use it as food or to make medicine. they were like witch doctors or folk healers, something in those lines. rosiepuff was pretty young when the bergens arrived and by the time the bergens and trolls implemented trollstice and the rules about picking who gets eaten, she was the only one left from her family. and the troll king at the time chose to excuse/prohibit her from participating in trollstice in the hopes of her passing on what was left of her family’s knowledge about wild plants because they will need it when they escape and will have to survive in the wild and build their society from scratch. so rosiepuff was basically the wise elder at the troll tree and she also drilled her knowledge into all her children and grandchildren and this is why branch and the other four were able to survive so well on their own. especially branch, who lived alone with her for a few years before she died and just hyperfocused on her teachings and his promise to build a bunker. the reason she died the way she did is that chef was experimenting with a new recipe for the bergen prince’s first trollstice so she quickly popped into the cage the day before trollstice and just snatched the first troll she could get her hands on… she basically died just the day before the trolls escaped. :( which is also why clay didn’t find out about it (in my hc clay didn’t escape the troll tree the way jd, spruce and floyd did)

[solarismoons]

SPOILERS FOR S2 EP5 OF SCHOOL SPIRITS

This one’s gonna be a LONG one… Sorry in advance.

I feel SO bad for Maddie. “My mom is being a good mother just not to me.” UGH! That made me so so sad.

The meeting with the living kids and the ghosts was SO funny. Simon and Wally FINALLY interacted. It was also so fucking awkward for the living kids. Like imagine sitting there staring at a bunch of empty chairs with pictures of dead people…

ALSO Wallys, “You’ve been here like four years babe, try 40.” MADE ME SCREAM. BABE?????? I CAN’T.

I love when Wally acts like a dumbass. “Where can we find a Bazooka?” WHAT?? Also there is SOMETHING going on with Xavier. Wally literally pointed out ‘he’s looking right at me.’ I don’t think he can see them, but he can definitely sense something is there. I’m calling it right now.

Um… Wally misses body shots??? Hey… so when did Wally become a FREAK?

Yuri is FINALLY out of the pottery room??? I’m really growing to like him.

That hellscape was fucking INSANE. I did NOT expect to see Janet literally burnt to a crisp. I genuinely feel so bad for her, but I can’t help but be pissed for what she’s doing to Maddie.

Yuri’s death sounds so sad 🙁. He had such a bad panic attack it triggered his asthma? Ugh, my baby. I need him and Charley to hook up NOW.

I feel so bad for Nicole. I wasn’t a huge fan of her last season, but everyone’s always so mean to her. Not a single person even attempted to hear her out.

What the hell happened with Mr. Martin?? That man was ANGRY. I’m so confused! Janet’s old friend, Eugene, basically said the fire was purposeful. What even happened to make Mr. Martin snap like that, and why did he purposely start a fire??

That dinner was SO uncomfortable. I don’t even know what to say other than that.

The pool scene made me so sad. “Maybe Janet can do more with my life than I ever could.” I had a suspicion Maddie might have this thought eventually. Peyton’s acting was SO good.

“I wish you would be stuck with me here forever. But, you deserve to live.” WALLY STOP BREAKING MY HEART.

WALLY AND MADDIE MAKING OUT IN THE POOL??? HELLO??? The tension is INSANE. The way she touched his lips with her thumb??? They are FEEDING us this season.

NICOLE COMING IN CLUTCH WITH THE EUGENE LINE??? Janet was HORRIFIED. Also, no way Janet boiled Simon’s phone… she’s completely freaking me out. Her holding the knife while telling Simon to leave??? If she hurts anyone i’m gonna sob.

Milo with his hair down and wet made me feral. I love him either way, but the hair down just gets me. I need Wally to STOP gelling it up. The amount of fluff we got with Mally is literally is insane.

XAVIER SAW MADDIES DEAD DAD??? Okay, this is an INSANE episode. Nicole finding out that she’s texting Xavier this early was NOT what I thought would happen.

This is one of the first times i’ve cried during this show. That song Rhonda’s friend made was so heartbreaking. I love Rhonda so much.

“Why can’t it be?” YURI STOP. I love Charley so much. He really deserves someone.

RED ALERT. EVERYONE WAS RIGHT ABOUT MR. ANDERSON. Mr. Martin giving Janet Fahrenheit 451 was so sick… I hate him more and more every episode.

AND HE KIDNAPPED HER??? I CANNOT wait an entire week for this

[cogglebee]

Caroline Characterization

Some things for my Portal 2 Caroline, Caroline AU because I'm properly writing it right now :3 spoilers for portal 2 !! (forgive me this is mostly just a very long ramble about Caroline)

The first chapter is entirely from Caroline's perspective. From what we can tell with the voice lines and context within the game, Caroline is a generally kind, smart and well educated woman.

This is further supported in the Portal 2 Collectors Edition Guide (I sound like a nerd right now but bear with me, this is all important)

Page 323, "As Chell and GLaDOS press on, more and more of Caroline comes forward, making GLaDOS more human and caring like Caroline was." and Page 325, "Caroline cares, GLaDOS does not." However, in her last voice line that's included in the game, she's got a much different tone than before. Maybe I'm reaching here, but I assume she's grown tired, maybe even cynical. You don't work in a place like Aperture, especially not so closely with the CEO himself, and not remain a morally good person.

If we look back at the Portal 2 Guide, the timeline we can see at the bottom of Page 315, the specific wording is, "To implement the Genetic component, the essence of Caroline, Cave Johnson's trusted assistant, is infused into the existing OS to provide the basis for GLaDOS' thought processes."

I believe that this also means that GLaDOS' personality is based of Caroline's own, we see how she presents herself publicly, but what about privately? (Though to be fair, you could also make the point that Caroline's anger at being uploaded into GLaDOS also heavily impacted the base of GLaDOS' behavior. Especially since she only activated for the first time AFTER having Caroline infused/uploaded to her OS.)

I'm mostly rambling here, but my point is, I think Caroline to her core is a caring person. However, her time working in Aperture, being a scientist, as well as being a working woman around the 1950's, have all affected who she is now (or rather, 30-40 years later in the 1980-90's)

Caroline is cynical, she's tired of this. By the time Cave Johnson is dead, she knows her fate is sealed. My personal hc is that she keeping going to Aperture, keeps working and acting as CEO, because of her own stubborn pride. She knows she can't stop the GLaDOS project. The project was started 10 years before she was forced into GLaDOS.

She doesn't want this. That much is made clear in her scrapped voice lines, and can be inferred in the game (her interruption when Cave said he wanted Caroline to run the place if he died before they could upload him instead. Also during the core transfer when Wheatley asks if it will hurt, she says, "Oh it will, believe me, it will." as well as her general reaction during the core transfer. Her shouts of protest are horrifying with the context of Caroline.)

But what I was getting at fr !!! The first chapter is Caroline walking into the GLaDOS Chamber the night before she's supposed to be uploaded. She's resigned to her fate, but she is still angry. She is cynical, and believes this will all backfire on the scientists. The entire scene is morbid, it's like a funeral. She is mourning herself.

The entire AU is based off the song Evelyn Evelyn, so the rest of the fic has both Caroline and GLaDOS' perspectives. But the first chapter is more inspired by As the World Caves In. It's Caroline's first conversation with GLaDOS (even if one sided).

[tia-amorosa]

Episode 40: Where is Bella? 2.0 - Longer Part

Mortimer found it difficult to get up that morning, but there were plenty of reasons not to spend the whole day in bed. “Did Cassandra say when she would be there around noon?“/”No, only around noon and noon is at 12:00. Maybe before or after…"/,,Yes, you're right… Well… Then I'll… Go for a little walk“/”but you still have to have breakfast"/,,yes… I'd better do that”. Mortimer may not have shown it, but he really appreciated his son's care.

Wordlessly, Mortimer ate his waffles while his thoughts dwelled on the previous night. He thought about how he had shouted at her without giving her the chance to explain herself. He felt again the pain that came after she left the house. She must have felt the same way, he thought to himself. “I don't even like the waffles today..hh”.

After he had washed his plate, he looked wistfully out of the window, “I scared you off, chased you away… I'm sorry. I can't take it back. Maybe I should have… reacted differently… But… How can I find you again now?”. Having a guilty conscience can weigh heavily on your soul. Hasn't there been enough suffering in recent years?

Mortimer was torn. Not only was he now plagued by a guilty conscience, he also didn't know whether he should wait for her to come back on her own or whether he should go looking for her. But where should he start? And yet he decided on the second option. With his daughter's voice in his ear, he took his tablets and left. On foot and for as long as his strength allowed.

“Mortimer? That's a surprise, I haven't seen her out here for ages"/ ”Hello, yes, I…I'm looking for someone…. Besides… I really needed some fresh air"/ ‘if you don't mind, you don't look very healthy either’/ ‘I'm aware of that’/ ‘and who is the one you're looking for?’/ ‘A ghost’. “A ghost? Haha. Excuse me, but don't you have enough of those in your garden?"/I don't feel like laughing at the moment. It's… It's my wife's ghost"/,,her… Has she turned up again?"/ ”Yes, only she was different, I… I just have to find her again."/ ”It seems very important… Well, then I'll be happy to keep my eyes open. But it's daytime.”

“So what? Believe me, you can't only see ghosts at night. Excuse me, I'm very upset"/ ”No, I have to apologize… So, if I see or hear anything, I'll let you know. I think I still have your old number, has anything changed?"/ ”No. Thank you"/ ‘of course’. The men said goodbye and Mortimer continued his search.

Of course, Mortimer knew the town very well by now, having lived here for many years after moving here from Sunset Valley with Bella and his daughter. He got to know lots of new people, and Bella in particular always enjoyed a bit of small talk with one or two of them. He looked in every building, every window, but there was no sign of his wife.

11:17 am. “Are you okay?”. Her fingers were still digging into the car seat with slight nervousness. “We were doing over 180… In a Mini Cooper! How am I supposed to feel?"/ ”hehe, I just wanted to see how fast the little thing goes. At least it fitted into my budget, I actually wanted to take the other one, but…"/ ‘oh my God, please stop , there's my dad!’. .

..Cassandra was back in town and actually wanted to go straight to her house. But that seemed superfluous for the time being. „Dad, what are you doing here? Is everything all right? Did you…“/”My child, I… I should have listened to you. I'm so sorry, I… I've lost her again and it's my fault. I've been looking everywhere since this morning“/”Mom? But… Why, what happened?”.

She sat down on the bench with him. Mortimer struggled to speak. He had put all his energy into the morning's search. He even took a cab further out of town. But his old body was no longer made for such long walks and excursions. And so he told her what had happened the previous night. “You, you sent her away again? Dad! “. Cassandra was horrified when she heard what had happened.

“Can you even imagine what you've done? She was so far away, Dad,” Cassandra said reproachfully. “She said that too… In another time… How is that possible?”. Cassandra had to collect herself because she was a little stunned. But then she talked calmly to her father and told him everything that had happened in Strangetown and what happened to Bella's memories. Mortimer stood up and had to process all the information. He too was once a scientist who had researched and seen many things. And that was something completely new again. “Where do you think she might be?"/ ‘I don't know…’/ ”Think about it, Dad. She even found her way here and to our house on her own. Then perhaps she will also unconsciously seek out a place where she felt comfortable.“.

But Mortimer couldn't think clearly at that moment. Instead, his attention fell on her daughter's companion. “Who did you bring with you?"/ ”Oh, that… That's Lazlo, Dad, he brought me here and… He wanted to find a house here, can he maybe stay with us for a day or two?"/ ‘But where is he supposed to sleep, we don't have a guest room’/ ‘In a sleeping bag, mh, he has a sleeping bag with him’…Cassandra didn't want to open the door and tell her father about her relationship with Lazlo just yet.

Lazlo approached Mortimer confidently. “Only if it's no trouble, of course, Mr. Goth. I'm pretty quiet and can fix things if they're broken“/”I already have my housekeeper for that, thank you very much. The circumstances are very modest at the moment…"/ ”I understand that. Yes, and so, as Cassandra said, perhaps your wife is staying somewhere where she feels comfortable and safe… I know about ghosts”.

. “Dad, He helped develop the transporter so we could get mom. He's very technically gifted and he could even help me at the lab.” Mortimer looked at Lazlo again, expressionless, but definitely interested. “mhm. Hh… I'm really sorry that it turned out like this and I want to make it up to you, but… I'll probably have to think it over myself first, my head's not the youngest anymore"/ ‘yeah, I just hope mom hasn't taken refuge in a plain again’.

I hope so too, I… I'm so…I'm really sorry, my child"/ ”I know, Dad, it's all right. But we shouldn't waste any time. Let's go home first, get some rest. And tonight, when it gets dark, we'll go out again, okay? She must be here somewhere"/ ”Thank you. I'm glad you're home again"/ ”Me too. Although I could have gotten used to the desert chuckle. The hug from his daughter was a real blessing for Mortimer. For body and soul. So they made their way home for the time being.

@greenplumbboblover, @solorisims , @honeywinesims ⭐

[yanderespamton78]

WHY ADI IS A GOOD CHARACTER AND NOT JUST AN EVIL SCIENTIST CHILD MURDERER

AAAAAAAAAA OH MY GOD YOU DONT UNDERTAND HOW WORKED UP I GET OVER THIS DEBATE YOU DONT UNDERSTAND ARARRARARRARRA also btw i watched sweet tooth ages ago so i might get some details wrong

(please dont take anything said here personally i am tired and angry and i get so sososo worked up over this debate since Adi is very similar to a character ive been obsessed with for a year)

so after being in a sweet tooth fandom for a bit i found that much to my surprise (and distain) adi is actually a thoroughly hated character, which was surprising after coming from a fandom where the "evil child murderer" character is one of if not the most popular. And i feel that a lot of the people who hate adi do just see him as "evil child murderer" BUT HES MORE THAN THAT!!!! I PROMISE!!!!! get out of that echo chamber and open your mind to a new opinion (please i spent like 40 mins typing this out)

so firstly, adi was actually just a really nice normal guy before the crumble. he was a sweet man, he was a doctor, he was dad material. not a psychopath. he clearly isnt insane or murderous by nature. We can see his love for Rani in the first episode when he starts freaking out and barging past people just to try to keep her alive even when he knew the odds werent in his favour. he clearly loves his wife more than the world itself and would burn cities in her name. This is a man who Loves His Wife. After the crumble we can see that Adi and Rani are living a semi normal life. we see that all Adi wants is some normalcy despite the horrible situation he's been put into. And all he really needs for that is his wife. Evidently the rest of his family is already dead even if its not mentioned so this man is already under a lot of stress, also knowing that if anyone finds out that Rani has the sick he's screwed. but you know what? hes coping. hes living. maybe he's sometimes forced to be just a lil bit sadistic but its fine its fine its okay because Rani is okay. When he first sees Gladys's research he is horrified and refuses to do the things asked. he loves his wife but even he stops at the idea of killing children (like a normal person). When whatserface (forgot her name) is killed by the horse he is horrified but you can even see a bit of Rani's sadistic nature with how quickly she is to be like "right welp hide the body it was not our fault :)" while Adi is moritified but still helps her because shes his wife and she loves him.

In fact, even when abbot kidnaps him he doesnt want to kill the children. Why would he??? He kills them because if he doesnt Rani will die and all he wants is Rani to be okay. Put yourself in his shoes. your whole life was flipped upside down in the crumble and then your second chance at a mostly normal life was also torn away from you. Now the person dearest to you in the whole world (and also the only person you still have) is about to die at the hand of Doctor Robotnik, who is also trying to force you to kill children otherwise he'll kill you too. Adi is visibly shook after having to kill roy. He didn't want to. He even says in his little voice vlog thing that he has done something terrible (iirc). When Gus comes along he is desperate to have a reason to spare him and when Gus talks he is overjoyed that he doesnt have to kill another child. Sure he's kind of forceful and aggressive but my man is under so much stress and has been for the past 10 years let him be pissy. AND his wife is okay (for now)!! woohoo!!! When he finds the cure he is overjoyed. Sure he ignores his wifes wishes but at this point he is numb to the killing. IT IS EXPLICITLY STATED MULTIPLE TIMES DURING THE SHOW THAT HE DOESNT WANT TO BE A DOCTOR BECAUSE HE STARTS TO BECOME NUMB TO THE DEATH. he KNOWS that this whole doctor thing will start driving him a bit cooky and tries to avoid it but he's forced into it. and that is why he doesnt understand the true reason behind Rani's crying and begging. He doesnt fully realise how she feels at this point due to what he's been forced to do and thinks its too late to go back

He goes back into his laboratory and everything's gone. burned away. AND his wife left him. here is when i feel you can really see where he snapped. Everything he has is gone now. the only thing he could ever need, and the person who he did all those terrible terrible things for, is gone. It cant get worse now. He starts spiralling and going down a desperate path to redeem himself. At this point he is completely insane and broken. He really thinks with all his heart that the only way he can fix what he's done ad get forgiveness from his wife is by killing gus. he thinks its the right thing to do. He's delusional. he seems like a hollow shell of himself by the last season but you can still see little sparks of his old self occasionally. he betrays Gus and team because he thinks its the only way he can redeem himself. the only way he can get Rani to forgive him. But at the last second RIGHT before stabbing Gus he realises its not right and he realises that he's become a terrible person that his wife would be ashamed of. HE REDEEMS HIMSELF. HE SAVES GUS. AND YOU LOT STILL SEE HIM AS THE EVIL CHILD MURDERER. DIEEEEEE

anyways TLDR i love Adi a lot and he did the bad things that he did because he was sad and desperate and loves his wife a lot and anyone who thinks otherwise can go suck toes

[am0ralexis]

House Hunting (fluff) 🩷

“this one’s haunted.”

“You’re not even inside yet.”

“I can feel it, Lex.”

Alex groans. The kind that starts in his chest and comes out like he’s aged 40 years in 4 seconds. He’s still sitting in the driver’s seat, seatbelt dangling somewhere by his hip, watching you eye the front porch of the third house on today’s cursed little list like it personally wronged you.

You’ve got your head tilted, your arms crossed, and your entire face says absolutely not, even though the place technically has everything you said you wanted—good school district, big backyard, extra bedroom. And yet…

“The door’s crooked,” you say, pointing with your coffee. “Like look at that. Slanted. That’s the type of house where the lights flicker at night and a child ghost whispers your name at 3 a.m.”

Alex doesn’t even try to hide how hard he closes his eyes. “You cannot tell the realtor that again. Please. I’m begging you.”

“She has such warm eyes! I’m not gonna lie to her and say this place has good energy when it very clearly has murder energy.”

He presses his palms into his eyes. “We are never going to find a house if you keep rejecting them based on ghost vibes. Or the air being ‘too sharp.’ Or because the driveway ‘feels Republican.’”

“That one was valid,” you say immediately, walking around to his side of the car now. “That mailbox gave off Blue Lives Matter energy and I will not be raising our children next to a guy who has a flag that says ‘Don’t Tread on Me’ but also drives a lifted Ford.”

Alex gets out of the car finally and leans against the door, looking at the house with an expression that says he might pass away from financial stress right here in this suburban cul-de-sac. “I’m just saying. Maybe we don’t need a perfect house. Just a safe, functional, affordable—”

“We’re literally creating life again,” you interrupt, walking backwards up the driveway like you’re in a music video. “This house is gonna be the backdrop of our baby’s first steps. First birthdays. First time they lie about brushing their teeth and think we don’t know. I refuse to let all that happen in a house with warped baseboards.”

Alex drags a hand through his hair. “The baby doesn’t even exist yet.”

“I’m manifesting.”

“You’re derailing.”

You flash him a grin and take a dramatic step onto the porch like you’re stepping onto a cursed pirate ship. The wood creaks way too loud.

“See?” you whisper, looking over your shoulder. “That’s a horror movie creak. Not a charming fixer-upper creak.”

Alex just exhales. “Okay. So this one’s a no because of ghosts.”

“And the bad tilework. But mostly ghosts.”

The realtor—poor kind-eyed Amanda, who’s been putting up with you for three weekends now—greets you both with a too-cheery “Hi again!” and a hopeful clipboard. You give her a sad smile like you’re here to break the news that her dog died.

“Sorry,” you say softly, “this one’s haunted.”

Amanda pauses.

Alex turns so fast he nearly trips over his own shoes. “I told you not to say that to her!”

You hold up your hands. “She deserves the truth! She’s showing us houses during Mercury retrograde. She’s risking her life.”

—————-

house #4: the one with the sink.

Amanda opens the door with a little flourish, like she’s hoping this will finally be the one. “This just hit the market,” she says brightly. “Mid-century charm, recently updated kitchen, and it has a huge finished basement.”

You’re already suspicious.

The foyer’s fine. Hardwood floors. Natural light. A funky little light fixture you kinda love. Alex looks tentatively hopeful for the first time in days.

And then you reach the kitchen.

“Oh no.”

Alex freezes. “What.”

“Oh my god.”

“What. What is it,” he says, already cringing.

You’re just pointing. “Look at the sink.”

Amanda, chipper as ever, starts explaining, “It’s an original farmhouse basin, very trendy right now—”

“It’s slanted, Amanda,” you whisper, horrified. “It’s a diagonal sink. Why is it in the corner like that? Who’s washing dishes? An alien crab with no sense of spatial awareness?”

Alex squints at it. The sink is, in fact, installed at an angle. In a corner. With one faucet and two mismatched knobs that look like they were stolen from a lawn hose and a Victorian dollhouse, respectively.

Amanda is already on the defensive. “Some people like a little personality in their plumbing—”

“It’s giving lair,” you interrupt. “It’s giving ‘I harvest organs in this kitchen.’”

Alex turns to her, defeated. “I’m so sorry. She’s just—she’s tired. She’s joking.”

“I wish I was joking,” you say quietly, still staring at the sink like it owes you child support. “That thing is one oil spill away from killing us all.”

——————-

house #5: the one with the floor.

You walk in. You take one look around. You don’t even speak. You just stop.

Alex notices immediately. “No. Don’t do that. Say words. Use your human words.”

You turn to him very slowly. “I need you to take one single step forward and tell me what you feel.”

Alex rolls his eyes and steps forward. Then freezes. “…Why is the floor bouncy.”

“Exactly.”

He lifts his foot and steps again. It’s like walking on a birthday cake. Every step makes a faint little boing.

“This is carpet over plywood over sadness,” you say. “We’re going to fall into a sinkhole and die mid-move-in.”

Amanda, now visibly sweating, tries to salvage it. “It’s probably just some older subflooring. We could have it inspected—”

“Have what inspected?” you ask. “The trampoline under our feet?”

Alex actually laughs, but it’s the kind of laugh that sounds like a man coming undone. “Okay. Okay. So we’re never buying a house. We’ll just die in our apartment and haunt it forever.”

You nod. “At least that one doesn’t have a corner sink.”

————-

house #6: the one.

You don’t say anything for a while.

Not when Amanda greets you. Not when she opens the front door. Not even when the warm smell of fresh wood floors and lemon cleaner hits your nose in the entryway.

You just walk in.

The light in here is perfect. Like glowing, golden-hour-every-hour perfect. The walls are a soft, cozy cream. There’s a bay window in the living room you can already picture decorating for every holiday. The kitchen? Clean lines, normal sink, no haunted corners. You feel it immediately. In your chest. In your bones.

Alex is still hovering behind you, cradling his anxiety like a feral cat. “What’s wrong,” he whispers. “What do you hate already. Say it fast. Rip the Band-Aid.”

You turn around slowly, eyes wide. “…I don’t hate it.”

His brows pull together. “Wait what?”

“I like it.”

Amanda gasps like someone just proposed. “Really??”

You nod. “I think this might be it.”

Alex looks around in disbelief. “No ghost energy?”

“No ghosts.”

“Weird sink?”

“Perfectly normal sink.”

“Weird neighbors?”

“I haven’t met them yet, but this feels like cul-de-sac wine moms and passive aggressive Christmas lights in a good way.”

You wander deeper into the house while Amanda practically starts planning a mortgage party in her head. There’s a fireplace. A bonus room. A little nook by the stairs that would be perfect for a toy chest. Alex follows behind you like he doesn’t trust any of it to be real.

And when you get upstairs, you find it—the nursery.

It’s already painted the softest sage green. Big window. Closet with built-in shelving. And a little piece of tape on the light switch that says “baby room :)” in sharpie.

You don’t cry. But it’s close.

Alex stands beside you, quiet for once.

And then—

“Well, actually—upstairs, there’s like this weird little—”

You put your hand over his mouth. “Shhh.”

He blinks.

“This is the one,” you say firmly. “This is our house.”

He mumbles something under your hand that’s probably ‘are you sure’ or ‘I think I’m gonna throw up’ but you just nod again.

“Shh. Let yourself be happy, babe. We’re gonna buy a house. And then we’re gonna fill it with tiny humans and plastic toys and way too many throw blankets.”

Amanda starts quietly texting the mortgage guy before either of you can change your mind.

And Alex—finally, finally—lets himself breathe.

——————

They accept your offer two days later.

Two.

Not two weeks. Two days. Amanda calls you with a tone like she just witnessed a miracle and says the sellers loved your letter—especially the part where you mentioned how Mia already picked out “the room with the sparkly light” for her stuffed animal kingdom.

Alex hangs up the phone and just… stares at the wall like he got jump-scared.

“I don’t understand,” he mutters. “That was… it?”

You blink. “What do you mean?”

“That’s it? We bought a house? Like—they said yes? Where’s the rejection? The bidding war? The dark twist in act three?”

You shrug, putting snacks in Mia’s lunchbox for preschool. “Maybe the universe cut us a break.”

“No. No it doesn’t. The universe gave me a child who thinks glitter glue belongs in her hair. It hates us.”

“Excuse me,” you say, holding up a pink-frosted Pop-Tart. “That glitter-haired child is the reason this house is ours. Mia walked in, called the fireplace a ‘cozy fire portal,’ and the sellers fell in love with her.”

“She ate a leaf in the backyard.”

“She said it was a ‘nature snack.’ I support her creativity.”

He groans, dragging his hands down his face. “I’m just saying this feels too smooth. Where’s the hidden mold? The evil HOA? The part where the bank’s like ‘Actually you owe us your blood’?”

But it never comes. The paperwork goes through. The inspection is clean. Even the movers show up on time.

And suddenly, there you are: standing on the front porch of your new home with Alex holding the keys and Mia spinning in circles on the lawn in her sparkliest dress, yelling, “I LIVE HERE NOW!!”

Alex just blinks at the house like it’s a dream. “Wait. We really… we did it?”

You slip your hand into his. “We did.”

He looks at Mia and shakes his head softly. “Now she gets a whole yard to destroy.”

“And a whole sibling to teach chaos to,” you murmur.

Alex looks at you sideways. “You’re still sure about that?”

You smile. “Ask me again in a few weeks.”

————-

four weeks later

Mia is in the living room, building a blanket fort out of every pillow in existence and making her Barbies have a council meeting about bedtime injustice.

You’re in the upstairs bathroom, gripping the edge of the sink with one hand and holding the test in the other.

It’s not faint. It’s not unclear. It’s there. A solid, definite second line.

You were only half-serious when you took it. Just tired, a little off, late by a few days—but not expecting this. Not this fast.

You sit down on the edge of the tub and let it sink in.

Then from the hallway: “Babe? Do we have more batteries? Mia’s walkie-talkie keeps yelling about ghosts again.”

You laugh under your breath. “One sec!”

He pushes the door open without knocking—because that’s what happens after four years of parenting together. Modesty died long ago.

“You okay? You look—” He stops short when he sees the test in your hand.

You hold it up.

He stares.

“…is that?”

You nod.

He drops to the tile in front of you like he’s been shot in the chest by joy. “Are you serious? Already?!”

You nod again. “Guess the fire portal nursery’s gonna get used sooner than we thought.”

He lets out this stunned, cracking laugh and presses his forehead to your stomach. “Mia’s gonna be a big sister.”

“She’s gonna tell them bedtime stories about glitter crimes and tree snacks.”

He wraps his arms around your waist, voice soft and stunned. “We’re really doing this again.”

You bury your fingers in his hair and smile. “And this time we’ve got a house that doesn’t bounce when you walk on it.”

[lemonduckisnowawake]

Dragon!Angelique AU word dump that I wrote on a whim just to see how many words I could write in 20 minutes on my phone (it was 569. 1327 total in about 40 to 50 minutes total). So don't expect anything shiny.

_

They were all supposed to be dead.

What they didn't know was that when the goblins ransacked the little village of Joie in Loire, the creatures had been drawn to a lurking power.

"He was a soldier," Angelique had told Clovicus about her father, nothing but an old grief tugging at her heart.

She hadn't said anything about her mother.

But it wasn't like it was a secret, anyway.

There wasn't much to hide when you found a child, eyes blazing a cold and unnatural silver, something hard and scaly and glowing on the sides of her face, teeth bared and sharper than a child's teeth should be.

Mama was supposed to be invincible.

But in a world where an ogre can be felled by nothing more than a youth and her cat, where a man-turned-beast can be tamed by a snarky ranger, where a demonic mirror can be contained by a mortal with her human power and love - even goblins can fell an ancient monster.

"You should practice using that power..."

And what right do you have to say that? Angelique had thought, eyeing the irritating teenager training under Clovicus. He didn't understand the pain that the lurking beast inside her had caused. He didn't understand that without it, she might have a family, not be someone taken out of pity by a man who didn't even like children.

And yet, six years later after being discovered, when Evariste had invited her to stay in his home as she tried to figure out what she wanted to do with her life, she'd accepted. When the Council protested, he simply had bared his very human teeth and claimed he'd teach her magic.

(A mage?, they'd whispered, voices horrified. Why would Lord Enchanter Evariste teach a monster to be a mage??)

Just to spite them, Angelique - planning to stay quiet, subdued, discover a way to run - decided to learn.

Even if Evariste kept insisting she use her horrible, heinous power, even if he kept insisting that it was beautiful, she stayed and thrived.

Of course, she refused his asinine insistence for her to train that other side of her.

The memory of her mother, in the process of transforming, cut down by one of those creatures, still burned in her mind. The whispers surrounding her, the people who barged into Clovicus' home to see her, make sure she was controlled, that she wasn't dangerous. And even now, people sent by the Council harassed Evariste - all these memories kept her tranquilized.

"Is your little beast tamed?" the visitors wouldn't say, but imply with all their words.

Evariste would shield her, and Angelique longed to sink her teeth into these people, show them what an untamed, wild, and free beast really looked like. But for Clovicus and now for Evariste, who was protecting her on some strange basis of loyalty from growing up together, she'd stay tame.

And now...he was gone.

He'd been gone for nearly six years, taken from under her nose, right in his own home.

Shielding her.

Just like her parents.

Everyone was always left or taken, and maybe now Angelique understood those stories where the dragons kidnapped royals or young people or entire villages. Creatures like her must have been fated by the gods or some deity to forever be alone, so they took and hoarded and kept whenever the opportunity rose. Because it would be taken anyway, in the end.

You have all the power to take back what is yours, young one, the stars had told her once.

They had called themselves Pegasus, a swirl of stars knit together into a constellation she could ride.

We had an agreement with your human mage, Pegasus told her. But the stars will only bow to those who can reach them.

So Angelique did not have to unfold her own wings, transform into something that would make children quake in terror. Instead, she became the beautiful enchantress who rode the stars, in search of a friend who had taught her the beauty of human magic and abyss-deep love. She was the one to tame men turned into beasts, who transformed a destitute duchess into a queen, who fostered a mage of creation, who destroyed only to protect and save.

That was how it was supposed to be.

Angelique, at 18 and about to leave the world behind before Evariste invited her into hers, would have been happy to withdraw into the shadows and fade as another bad memory of the world. But then she'd risen to become a hero, to become someone who was great enough that she didn't need to unleash the beast shaking in the cage of her soul.

"You can't hide it forever. You can't hide from it forever," Emerys warned her once, something gleaming - something that looked like hope and joy - in his eyes.

And now, he repeated the words to her again, cradling the form of his wounded human lover. It made Angelique's heart squeeze painfully. An elf of the forest from a land far away and a mortal woman who accepted who he was, loved it even.

"Please, Angelique?" Emerys begged her, himself bloodied and bruised.

So how had it come to this?

It had started with her father, loving Angelique for who she was, calling her and Mama his "little fire stars." And then it was Clovicus (Angelique now knew how unfair she'd been to the man, who may have not liked children all that much but had loved her and Evariste), giving her a home when the Council had called for her to be killed. And then...Evariste, who had given her a home and an alternate solution to survival in his beautiful, human magic. Then Emerys and Alastryn, Roland and Gabrielle, Elle (who had discovered it because of course the former spy would), and now....

"It always comes to this," Angelique muttered to herself, not even aware that she was speaking.

Something hot - and she didn't know if it was rage or love - burned in her chest. The fire of it all spread from her core into her veins, forcibly squeezing through her muscle onto the organ of her skin, hardening it.

"No matter how much I give, I always have to give more," she said, almost a sob and yet so full of resigned desperation. "You had all my humanity. And this, finally, is the rest of me."

Because she would have burned long ago if it could have bought her parents to life. Or if it would have saved Evariste.

Trained to hide it all her life and told by those she loved to set it free.

Fine. Here I am.

And the fire burst out in full, encasing her in a cocoon of silver flames. She felt herself rise with the fire, the unsteady floating stabilizing when scaly wings were wrenched out, the flying coming to her instinctually.

It wasn't a full transformation, no. She wouldn't give them that.

But the scales were on her face again, as they had been long ago when they'd found her. Her back had grown wings as large as the wonder from the soldiers below, and they propelled her as she raided the sky and became the wind of this windless day. There was no fire out of her mouth - her humanoid body was not made to contain it - but it didn't matter.

An ancient, deep, powerful magic danced in her blood, merging with her human spells and setting the horde of the evil beasts alight. In seconds, the encroaching armies became ash and dust, scattered in the winds of her flight path.

Inside of Angelique, there was a contended rumble, as if from a creature long-chained set free.

Welcome home, it whispered, startling her.

Home?

As she landed back to where Emerys and Quinn, both gazing at her with...with awe, of all things, staying put as Angelique willed the searing burn of her magic into a healing warmth to flow over them - as she looked into their eyes and smiles, something within her shattered and mended and sang.

It sounded like the voice of her mother, opening her arms wide to an Angelique shrieking in delight as her father tossed her up and down.

"Welcome home."

[cull3nblaze]

What's your favorite BuckTommy head canon?! :)

Ohh, good question. I never really thought about it but now that you asked me... I actually have a few.

- Tommy can't cook to save his life and Buck teases him about it a lot ("how did you even survive without me"), but he actually loves it, because he likes to cook in general, but especially for Tommy

- Tommy hates social events where he has to do small talk. So now he just introduces "my partner Evan" and he does all the talking for him

- Tommy has a cat named Olivia and she does not like Buck. The first time Tommy introduces them she hisses at Buck und tries to scratch him. And then Tommy has to leave for a few days for his job und he asks Buck to be the cat sitter. Buck says yes of course but he does not like it at all. And Olivia denies the food Buck gives to her and once Tommy is back she looks at him like "nobody fed me, why did you leave me alone with this peasant". We'll see if she warms up to Buck at some point, not sure yet 😆

- Buck loves Tommy reading to him. Tommy tells him one time that his favourite book is the Lord of the Rings and when Buck says he has never read the books, only seen the movies, Tommy is absolutely horrified. So he tells Buck that he has to read the books because they are like "the greatest of all time" and Buck really tries but he only makes it through half the first book ("you know this could have been two instead of 40 pages. Is this Bombadil dude really that important? He did not even make it into the movie"). So Tommy does the only reasonable thing "sit down, I am going to read this to you and you will enjoy it". And Buck actually does. He couldn't care less about the ents and the orks and "why the hell did they not just ask the eagles to drop the ring into Mount Doom in the first place" ...but Tommys voice? Absolut heaven. Smooth and sultry and so fucking intoxicating, that Buck could listen to him read the damn phone book and he would not mind at all. So he gets through The Lord of the Rings, The Two Towers and The Return of the King. And maybe once they're done he asks Tommy to start reading The Hobbit as well...because you know, just so that he can get the whole story "would be unfair not to listen to Bilbos story, right"...

(Hopefully no Lord of the Rings fan will have my head for this, because I actually do prefer the movies to the books even though I read all three and the Hobbit. Sorry 😅🙈)

[slocumjoe]

I think a body swap could be interesting to see with sole and the companions especially with differences in body or faction would you mind giving it a try?

I did this for one (1) specific meme

Disney Channel Strikes Again

Cait; ends up in X6-88 and has a surprisingly good time. For one, he hasn't treated his body like a amusement park you can't get kicked out of. Secondly, he's literally made to be a prime specimen. Mostly just wanders around, amazed at how much better she feels. She's not even bothered by the change of scenery, so to speak. She's way too excited to see what it's like not having joint pain and constant chills. And his head doesn't hurt! And his reflexes are amazing, it's like she can see, hear, feel everything around her before it even happens. She would take the opportunity to take the Courser life for a joyride, but being in his body, Cait gets a firsthand look at just how fucked she could be when they switch back, and wisely decides to take it easy.

Curie; gets to see what life is like for Hancock. Horrified. Traumatized. Disgusted. Confused. Curious. Intrigued. For one, getting such a personal experience as a ghoul is useful, and she does enjoy the learning experience. On the other hand, Hancock is one of those people that's treats his body like its a bumper car, and Curie is not. She has to figure out what the dull pain in her head is from. Is that a symptom of being a ghoul, or is it from his excessive chem usage, lack of sleep, and refusal to drink water? Then it's the frailness. Hancock isn't fragile, but he is scrawny, where Curie eats and rests more. She has weight, Hancock doesn't. The fun part happens when withdrawal kicks in. After the debacle, Hancock finds himself a few pounds heavier, hydrated, well-rested, and with no urge to take chems. Curie basically tidied his health up for him while he was out. And is adamant he try to maintain it.

Danse; gets to live as Preston for a bit. And the funny thing is, since both of them are insomniac workaholics who don't pay attention to their physical needs, Danse didn't notice until he went to work in the garage, and didn't recognize the hand he was using. Danse takes this the worst. Not only does he not want the person who got his body to have his body, he doesn't want to have a body that isn't his own body. He's already been through this. That didn't go well. The whole time, Danse is in a crisis. It's not fun to watch yourself from an outside perspective. But as for the body, the only thing that bothered him was that it wasn't his.

Deacon;

Deacon gets Gage and continues as normal.

Gage; gets to be Piper for a day and also has a bad time. For one, her caffeine/sugar/nicotine addiction is more like a phantom haunting his every waking moment, and he finds it hard to think if he doesn't have at least one of them in his system. Her system? Whatever. Secondly, being a woman in the wasteland sucks major ass. He knew that before. Getting to live it for a time turns him into a passionate man-hater. Also, it's just fucking weird to be 20 again. He can feel the bad decisions of the 20 year old brain, whispering just beneath his 40 year old sensibilities. Once they're back in their respective bodies, claps her on the shoulder and tells her it gets better. Its maybe the first time he's expressed sympathy in his life.

Hancock; ends up in Danse. Hancock hates it as much as Danse does, but...for an unexpected reason. See, Hancock is a creature of...indulgence. Whims. Desires. And Danse is...Hancock never saw him that way, because, y'know, they fucking hate each other, but in this circumstance, when Danse isn't Danse...he ain't ugly, thats for damn sure. So, Hancock was neutral to the concept, until he looked down and got to see the view. This infuriates Hancock. Why does the technofascist get triple-J cups? And then he couldn't do chems, because...well, not his body to treat like a bumper car. And then he got to experience a war vet's PTSD throughout his time. Hancock isn't jumpy. Being jumpy at things he, himself, found normal was a trip. Hancock is all too happy to get out. Especially since Curie took his body to the dry cleaners.

MacCready; switches with Cait. Much like Danse and Preston, Mac and Cait have similar bodies and physical sensations. So, didn't notice until someone addressed him as Cait. MacCready is the one to suffer the most dysphoria, and finds he really isn't comfortable in a lady's body, despite his wildest fantasies as a horny teenager. He tries to ignore it, but it's the little things. Moving your arms feels different when there's a pouch of fat on either pectoral. Moving your legs feels different with nothing in-between. He also tries to be as respectful as possible and refuses to piss, so Cait ends up nearly pissing herself when she gets back in. She both does and doesn't appreciate it.

Nick;

Piper; gets MacCready and knows the moment it happens. How does she know? Piper is a clean freak who's kind of obsessive over her hygiene. One second with MacCready's body and she knew something was dreadfully wrong. If she were a bolder, less considerate person, she'd take his body and walk through a car wash. As it stands, grants him that privacy. She just strips to his underwear, power brushes his teeth, and scrubs everywhere that isn't private with a washcloth and soap until his skin is red. MacCready doesn't appreciate this. Everyone else does.

Preston; is Deacon and mostly unbothered. Mostly. Aside from the what the fuck is happening, Deacon is not the worst person to bodyswap with. He's decently clean, he's of average health. And besides, Preston spends most of his time trying to calm down Danse, who is living in a nightmare. He doesn't get a lot of time to freak out himself. He's just trying to keep Danse from offing himself, because he's in Preston's body. And Preston needs that back, man.

X6-88; gets to live as tiny, soft little Curie, and hates it. She's so short. Her hands are useless. She's lacks agility and endurance. Her voice is akin to a baby lamb. It's horrible. People make googoo eyes at him, speak like he's a startled puppy, and if they're really dumb, make unwanted advances. Curie never has to deal with suitors again. X6-88 scares them all off. He chases Cait as himself down and threatens murder-suicide if she so much as gets him scratched. He might have hated the experience, but seeing Curie act like X6 was a treat for all who ever wondered what she'd be like if she snapped.

[pedrocomicreviews]

Poison Ivy #31

"Human civilization begins and ends with water. Not enough, and you starve or burn. Too much and you drown."

Poison Ivy is a book about slippery slopes, #31 is a story about sliding down so hard you crack the floor.

One of my favorite types of personal conflict is when two characters stay in each other's way because of the truths they carry and are willing to die over, and not just because of the right thing to do or convenience. This is an issue about people doing exactly what they will always do.

We take some time to tell the complete story of Marshville, the city in the bog that Poison Ivy has risen from the waters recently. It's a story as old as civilization: some people get too rich and decide to live in a place that clearly does not want to support them, and change that environment until it is suitable.

Poison Ivy the book doesn't seem to have a specific opinion on whether or not civilization itself is the problem here, like Poison Ivy the character does (she thinks it is), but it does point the blame for this tragedy and others similar to it to very specific actors: investors, money and an unwillingness to stop before it's too late. Every death in this town could have been avoided, both by simply not being there and by taking the signs of rot and death for what they were: warnings.

I think the book is at its best when it adds a dash of eldritch horror to the simple truth that is "nature fights back". The fate of the city is as horrifying as it is familiar, and it's rendered like a nightmare by Level and Prianto. Ostmane-Elhaou as always puts on all the work in the world with this lettering, and GWW continues to write what's probably the most interesting book about the forces of nature DC has published in decades.

I really love that Peter Undine is a recurring character, and I really love that when him and Ivy eventually come into conflict, you can tell neither of them really feels like doing it, but they have no option. The truths they hold are simply not compatible with each other, even if their feelings about the other as people are malleable and still evolving. Pamela is always going to be a radical at heart, but to see her interact with characters who can actually talk to her instead of just quipping or chucking batarangs wordlessly is really, really appreciated.

Also, this isn't really a spoiler, but I am wondering if by issue 35 or 40 we'll have all the "colors" involved. The end of this issue implies that we'll at least have some of them making themselves known, but who knows, maybe it's a looser interpretation of what domains what in this universe.

Either way, I'm fully in, and I didn't expect to be so invested in this town. Quite frankly I thought i kinda spelled the moment I stopped caring about the setting, but no, GWW made me eat my words, this rules. Poison Ivy continues strong onward to Big 50.