#so this is technically their idea but i forgot what their Tumblr handle is

[incorrect-jojolands-quotes]

dragona: wait a minute!

paco: what?

dragona: *points* oh, look at this here!

paco: what?!

dragona: pimp usagi.

usagi: *hyped up* you know i gets my pimpin' on!

paco: oh shit! ain't that your dude?

usagi: yeah, i be pimpin' on these hoes!

dragona: FOOL! that was way back in middle school!

usagi: you knows i get my pimp... wait.

usagi:

usagi: wait, wait, wait, wait, wait.

dragona:

usagi:

usagi: dragona, is that you... you... you... you?!

dragona: *sigh* whaddup, usagi....

usagi: that's PIMP usagi. don't get it twisted!

paco: man, she can call you whatever the hell she wants.

dragona: paco...

usagi: ain't no body talkin' to you, macho man.

paco: man, you don juan knock up, imma bust a cap-

usagi: whaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa....

[pokelolmc]

The Ultimate Enemy is a Disappointment (and How I'd Fix It) (Part 1)

A couple years back, I started analysing a list of DP episodes I thought had missed potential--and my analysis on TUE got SO big I made it its own thing. I rewrote it to death and could never settle on something concise enough, so I abandoned it. But I'm BACK baby. I can't remember where it is now, but I came across a poll on whether Reign Storm or TUE is the better special and the discourse reignited my passion for this analysis, and gave me motivation to trim off some of the fat.

Don't get me wrong, at the end of the day I do like this episode--or at least its ideas. I really liked the episode the less I thought about it, but now I see issue after issue in its execution. Hence, the "disappointment": it could've been great, but it missed the mark. This won't just be a one-sided roast of TUE, though. I have a ton of cool ideas for how to rewrite plot holes or fill in the gaps. The best roasts are constructive! (Though I would be rewriting it in a more mature fashion compared to canon's writing--keep that in mind).

Part 2 is now up: you can find it here.

So here we go: Part 1--the general plot contrivances/contradictions unrelated to Dan's character or the time travel system.

The episode introduced taking off the Time Medallions as a way to immediately return to one’s native time period, but then forgot this late into the second act.

Technically this plot hole involves time travel devices, but I'm counting it as a plot hole by character decisions.

The episode gives no explicit rules on lag time between removing the medallion and returning home, but it takes only one to two seconds to return Skulktech to the future after they dropped theirs, and it had to have been instant for Sam and Tucker to return to the past in time to escape rubble falling from FentonWorks (which was only roughly two to three stories high, not counting the Ops Centre).

Danny should’ve been sent back almost instantly when Dan took his medallion off—which would’ve completely defeated the purpose of Dan’s attempt to trap Danny there in the first place.

If they wanted to keep the plot point, they could’ve just had Dan grab the medallion and turn it intangible while it’s still around Danny’s neck…and that’s assuming that making it intangible while Danny’s still tangible doesn’t count as “removal”. That’s it. He never needed to remove it to begin with.

2. The Nasty Sauce explosion just…sucks. In my opinion, it’s too silly for the tone the episode’s trying to go for (and as a cause of major character death), and it wrecks the worldbuilding.

I tried to put it in way more verbose ways in my previous drafts, but I found another post somewhere on tumblr that did what I couldn’t—say it in three words:

“It’s just stupid.”

Assuming that semi-realistic laws exist in-place in the Danny Phantom universe (so it’s BASICALLY similar to ours) the Nasty Burger shouldn’t have been able to stay in business without a LOT of red tape, cover-ups and NDA’s. They had an explosive substance on premises, being taken care of by unqualified, minimum-wage part-timers instead of trained chemical safety specialists. Forget handling it, they shouldn’t have even had it in the first place! If they got it by going UNDER the law and covering everything up, then one of their employees shouldn’t have been able to just CONFESS to it at a public school assembly.

It also sounds ridiculous that a “certain combination of secret herbs and spices” could catastrophically combust in the first place. They could’ve made the explosion ghost-powered/altered; they could’ve made it not the sauce itself, but a pressure issue with its containment vats; they could’ve made it a gas leak or malfunction of cooking equipment starting a fire, or something. They could’ve made the explosion a Fenton invention at their home (where the whole family had reason to be at once, and Mr Lancer could hold the parent-teacher conference there like in Teacher of the Year). They've used more serious threats of explosion in previous episodes (like the Ecto-Filtrator in Million Dollar Ghost).

And instead they decided “Yep! This commonly sold and digested sauce is a dangerous explosive, and even a small handout serving is enough to blow clean through a wall when it’s heated up!” This is how we're going to kill all of the main characters' loved ones to send him on a villain arc!

Like what?

Nowhere else after TUE did the show acknowledge the Nasty Sauce in worldbuilding. There were no consequences of its risk being publicly revealed, nor did it ever pose a hazard again. It’s understandable, given the show’s episodic nature. Bu at least in The Ultimate Enemy itself, they should've thought about how it affected most of the previous episodes.

During his fight with Boxed Lunch, one of Danny's ectoblasts to a sauce packet demolishes an entire section of wall in the Nasty Burger. So how hadn’t any ghost fights ignited any Nasty Sauce before—or damaged the main vat, god forbid—and caused an explosion already?

If the sauce was always a part of the Nasty Burger’s recipe, then the entire restaurant was a ticking time bomb waiting to go off since season one, and nothing short of a miracle could explain why it hadn’t happened before.

3. This episode committed character assassination of Mr Lancer, for the sake of setting up stakes in the plot. And contradicted his personality changes in previous episodes (such as “Teacher of the Year”).

Mr Lancer, in my opinion, is the character done the single dirtiest in the episode. It warps his entire character around the plot, and turns him into a contrived mouthpiece for how important the CAT is. It leaves him even more malicious and mean-spirited than his behaviour in the first episode of the entire show—leaving him even worse than he started.

He didn’t have much character development, but there were some more positive changes happening in his personality as later episodes occurred. He started out as a selfish, corrupt authority figure (think Mystery Meat, Fright Night and other S1 episodes where he deliberately lets the jocks off the hook for their behaviour), but unwittingly acts in favour of the main characters in “Fanning the Flames”—although ineffective and easily taken down by Ember.

By the time of “Teacher of the Year”, we finally got a glimpse into his (albeit scant) ideology as a teacher around helping his students succeed, and his concern for Danny’s failing grades.

It even revealed his personal interest in Doomed, which gave him more in common with Danny and Tucker and humanised him in way a few other episodes hadn’t. Season two even demonstrated his (albeit brief) willingness to stand up and defend his students from a ghost attack in “Memory Blank”. Lancer, for a brief period of time, became more than just his job, book title swears and his frustration with rebellious students.  

We're talking about the teacher who, in the early 2000s, kept a picture of himself crossdressing at school to convince his students to try their best with a "story about his sister".

The Ultimate Enemy, however, took Mr Lancer’s humanity towards the students—particularly Danny—and flipped it all on its head. It turned him into an elitist, mean-spirited asshole who verbally attacked his students (past and present) based on their performances on this single. Fucking. Test.

They made Mr. “there is no cheat code in school, or in life” Lancer into a cruel enforcer of the hamfisted and childish importance of the CAT. Actual “get rich vs dead-end, minimum-wage job” propaganda.

(Teacher of the Year)

And... one season later:

(that sure sounds like a cheat code in life to me)

To add insult to injury, TUE used Lancer’s death as the butt of a joke directly after spending the majority treating him like a total asshole—following up character assassination with literal assassination , and excluding him from the rest of the explosion victims in their memorial.

It feels to me, that it'd make more sense for Mr Lancer to be sceptical of the importance of the CAT based on TOTY. Replace him in the assembly with Principal Ishiyama or something. A stickler-for-the-rules school administrator looking to boost the school's image by pressuring kids on a standardised test? That ABSOLUTELY makes sense.

Mr Lancer could still be seen as a threat (or someone Danny can't reach out to for help), but in the department of simply being an authority figure Danny's used to dodging around with his ghost activities. Someone who'd still enforce consequences for Danny getting caught cheating. Someone who'd get his parents involved. He's the closest thing Danny could have to any level of support at Casper High, and Danny could think he's even lost THAT.

4. The way Danny got the CAT answers was contrived, and broke the previously established rules of ghost intangibility.

To cut a long story short, Boxed Lunch’s fight with Danny shouldn’t have gotten the test answers stuck to Danny’s back. Danny immediately turned intangible in anticipation of the explosion, and was thrown outside the Nasty Burger and through Mr. Lancer’s briefcase before turning tangible again.

That didn’t make sense; the series previously established that ghosts (in this case, halfas) were physically unaffected by explosions when intangible. “Million-Dollar Ghost” even demonstrated it when Vlad escaped his castle’s explosion in the same manner, and was left completely unmoved from his position at ground zero. The sauce packet explosion shouldn’t have even moved Danny out of place, let alone flung him out of the building (especially not compared to Vlad and an Ecto-filtrator explosion).

On top of that, the test answers couldn’t have gotten stuck to his back while he passed through the suitcase, as Danny was intangible and the answers sheet was solid. Even if it were possible for already intangible ghosts to grab onto tangible objects and bring them into intangibility, that’d certainly require conscious intention that Danny didn’t have in the episode.  The test answers got stuck to his back by sheer accident on his part. Bringing other objects into tangibility always previously involved a tangible ghost grabbing hold of other tangible people/objects and consciously willing them intangible together. Ergo, he should’ve simply passed through the suitcase and its contents all at once—go to the other side, pass go, do not collect CAT cheat sheet.

The solution for this one is pretty simple—just remove the scene entirely. Not only does it break the lore, but it’s entirely pointless and redundant (more on that later when I talk about Clockwork—giving Danny the answers was his idea, and it was a terrible one). Instead, it would’ve been much more compelling if Danny stole the answers on purpose with his ghost powers—being put under so much pressure to succeed that he felt like he had to forgo his morals and use his powers to cheat.

[autobot-ratchet]

MTMTE 50-52

MTMTE 50

all right, back to pain, here we go, my favorite arc in the whole damn thing

“It's the first time we've died together.” what a hilarious punch to the gut this sentence is lmAO

I do like everyone else's reactions to everybody's last words, Starscream's is actually making me a little emotional in how sincere he's being. Fdhjksl and the Scavengers watching like it's a soap opera

love how, much like the deal with the alternate quantum Lost Light that the DJD slaughtered, now this is just a morbidly fascinating bit of insight on these characters, but when I first read this I was panicking lmAO

I like how even though Megatron has sworn not to do any more fighting himself, he's happy to use his experience to guide the others. They're having banter like they're some sort of team or something :')

Rodimus really said “normal people, squishy people, I see no difference, life is life”

jhdkfsak It's not meant to be funny but it is incredibly funny how right after being like “I will never hurt another living creature” Megatron involuntarily punches the shit out of Minimus. Like when I said “womp womp” earlier I was thinking of when Megatron later slaughters the DJD, I forgot he breaks this vow even sooner than that

love all this talk about how the fool's energon might be changing Megatron's personality, knowing that it's literally just unfiltered and kinda gross-tasting and that's it. Placebo is a hell of a drug

aww Lotty is sweet with Megatron

urgh and the lure has been cast...

hook, line, and sinker, we're in it. Man, poor Censere, he never did anything to anyone...

motherFUCKER

god I remember feeling so betrayed by everyone on this page where Getaway reveals that he didn't escape from the brig, he was released by everyone. Perceptor in particular fucking haunted me because I didn't know if all of them knew about the DJD being involved and it took months to finally get to the part where we're told that only Getaway knew about them being involved and everyone else was under the impression that it was the Galactic Council lmAO I couldn't handle the idea of him throwing Brainstorm to the wolves like that

this fuckin speech by Getaway is so funny because this may as well be pulled from one of the many tumblr posts about how no one is allowed to like Megatron or else they're a bad person lmAO I fucking read this exact take on my dashboard so many times and it is still so funny to see it in the canon text after all the bitching about how the comic is not addressing how unfair it is that Megatron didn't get executed immediately for his crimes (even though it did, explicitly and immediately) and the comic obviously must be pro-fascism for trying to give Megatron depth as a character instead of punishing him constantly. Rewind shooting his past self to try to save the rest of the universe and the field of flowers on the Necrobot's planet don't count, those weren't punishment enough, they don't count because they just made him feel bad instead of killing him, he has to die for it to count. You are Getaway, you were all Getaway the whole time and you're stupid and bitter and wrong just like he is. *points at Getaway* that's you, you're the villain

oh that's right, I forgot about this extra bit

DRIFT I fuckin missed you my sweet boy. I do like him subtly turning down Pipes's invite to hang out, he really is just hard wired to self sabotage any chances of starting a friendship, he's lucky that Ratchet's so stubborn

I love Pipes saying if Drift was a short aquatic king, he'd have a massive crush on him. Your loss lmAO couldn't be me, fuckin move over gayboy I'm bout to get it lmAO

gdsfjks poor Ambulon, I'm sorry buddy, the puns are a love language I promise

oougfhjds Chromedome watching over past Rewind, HIS past Rewind... It does feel kind of weird to grieve for him even though he's technically still here. It's different though, it makes sense to grieve for that version of him, they're the same, but it's different

aww everybody pitching in to help clean up Swerve's bar... it's a temporal hot spot, everyone's paths cross here at some point........ or at least they did until SOMEBODY FUCKED IT UP

MTMTE 51

cannot fucking WAAAAIIIIIT for Tarn to get owned

love Magnus saying “Screw Getaway.” Don't apologize for swearing, you're right and you should say it

thousand yard stares at the dust Censere just turned into...

*points at Tarn* haha stupid bitch doesn't know we're gonna fight back and live, you think you've already won, dumbaaaasssssssss

Rodimus I love you and I get that you're stressed but don't ever be mean to Ten for any reason ever again

I admittedly didn't see this take a ton of times but it is burned into my brain regardless from just how angry it made me lmAO but I remember seeing people be angry that everyone decided to stay and protect (what they thought were) the organics, specifically because it was “unrealistic” that all of them would be so selfless. Honestly this take still pisses me off lmfAO the entire. Fucking reason we're here is because these people were quite literally hand-picked to be here precisely because they are the least selfish individuals on the Lost Light and weren't willing to throw their friends, crewmates, and captain under the bus just to get rid of Megatron. They're GOOD PEOPLE, the kindness is the POINT what fucking care bears villain bullshit are you ON

Ten is so good...

fucking godghsdjakfdl this god damn page with Drift and Ratchet showing up in their spiffy new designs gave me the world's most powerful heart attack when I first saw it lmfAO BECAUSE!!! BECAUSE I SPECIFICALLY REMEMBER JAMES FUCKING ROBERTS STATING ON TWITTER THAT THERE WERE NO PLANS FOR THEM TO COME BACK LIKE BARELY A WEEK OR TWO BEFORE THIS ISSUE CAME OUT!!!!!!!! So I was like “aw alright that's fair, we're kind of in the middle of an arc anyway so I get it, no real room to add them in, I'll prepare myself for like another solid year of no Dratchet” AND THEN THEY JUST HFSJDKASLHDFAJSF

aww, admittedly I don't really read the fan letters at the end of some of these comics but even just skimming the ones in this issue, I see a lot of familiar usernames. Not all of y'all were terrible lmAO

MTMTE 52

“If we can team up, anyone can,” he says. Shut the fuck up gayass, you love him lmfAO

gdfjk love Ratchet casually getting his gun eaten and also his entire body almost melted by Helex in the background, just a little low-key brush with death, fun little welcome back for ya

yeah, more feeding into the Roller is Tarn theory, “If YOU could be turned...” I'm gonna be real, I paid attention to Glitch this time around and I still think it makes more sense for Tarn to be Roller lmfAO truly the only connecting threads between Tarn and Glitch is that Glitch had outlier powers that could disable technology and he was present in Orion's old team. He was never shown to be as close to Orion as Roller was and there was never really any explanation for his powers evolving into being able to kill living tech with his voice and also getting his face and hands back and also growing three sizes taller lmfAO I ultimately don't care that much, it truly doesn't matter plot and themes-wise, but if I gotta have a bit of criticism for this comic, I'll tack that one on the board

“Did they waste their lives? Did I waste mine?” literally yes lmfAO jokes aside, this dialogue between Tarn and Megatron rules, love Megatron having to face the living embodiment of himself at his worst

not gonna lie I completely fucking forgot about Overlord lmfAO

gdhsfjk Velocity immediately putting her foot in her mouth while meeting Ratchet... also damn, First Aid talked a lot of shit huh lmAO poor guy's been through the wringer and I guess Ratchet gets the brunt of his bitterness

also fucking LOVE this conversation between Drift and Rodimus, love that Drift immediately jabs at him for not looking for him after he came clean about Overlord. I've seen people criticize this moment, saying that Roddy's apology sucked, and I'll admit, it kinda does lmAO but I think that's kind of the point. It's a very Rodimus apology, and Drift knows that and understands that even though the words being spoken aren't a very adequate apology, the intent behind them is sincere and Drift is a good enough person for that to be enough. He could hold a grudge, he's got the grounds for it, but he just doesn't want to, and fucking good for him, I'm proud of him for that. In fact wasn't there a James Roberts tweet about this where he explicitly said this was meant to reflect more on Drift than Rodimus? I somewhat remember that

pulls up a chair and some popcorn to watch Overlord and Tarn's catfight lmAO

it is genuinely so fucking funny how much Overlord picks on Tarn, I've seen plenty of really funny fan works where the two of them bicker like feuding twitter users but like. No it's completely canon, he treats Tarn like a child trying too hard to be cool and I am fucking LIVING

ah yes, there it is, Tarn ripping Kaon's head off. In addition to all the Tarn-fuckers lamenting that he wasn't their poor misunderstood meow meow, I remember a lot of people saying that Tarn only did this in response to Overlord's teasing, and like. Not really??? I mean I'm sure Overlord didn't help, he was definitely pissing Tarn off, but it's Megatron that pushed him to kill Kaon for the crime of caring about his dog. In Tarn's eyes, he was performing a mercy kill to stop Kaon from becoming “weak” like Megatron, it's really as simple as that. He literally says it on the very next page lmAO

[impostorsshow]

Okay so you’re my Legend of Zelda person

How are you feeling about the Echoes of Wisdom announcement? Surprised? Excited? Eh? Did you like what you saw of the game? The art style? The Echo mechanic?

(Personally, I’m really looking forward to the game, and it’s looking like the twink will finally have to be saved this time.)

I haven't seen much of the trailer and don't know what the echo mechanic is, I only get game info through my partner that stays up until 3-4 am their time to watch the Nintendo directs and I prefer to find out about zelda games far after the community has discussed it or play it blind myself with trusty non spoiler guide site zeldadungeon.com, but I love that we're getting another game in the chibi links awakening style!! It's my favorite, and my old comfort object that I lost was an amiibo figure of links awakening link, so I really hope they make a figure of Zelda I can buy - my family pirated every amiibo for Zelda that was released up to botw and they're about the size of the first index of my thumb but having a full figure of a Zelda character would be nice again.

I am also really surprised about it, and having Zelda as a playable character is amazing again. I only know of 4 Zelda games that have had the goddess reincarnation herself be the protagonist, 3 of the games were most likely released in the OG Zelda/adventure of link titles era or around the oracle games based on the cartridge? Art I saw idk it might also be related to the PC quest games that came out around the same time which for reference is the uh. "eXCUSSEEE ME PRINCESS" one I think that's the thing it's well known for that is a whole different convo with a different blog i know nothing of the older titles except the basics. Anyway anyway I own the 4th game I know about that no one else mentions because it's technically not canon and is worse off than Hyrule warriors is but it's called cadence of Hyrule I think just search up "Crypt of the Necromancer Zelda" you'll find it and I did play through most characters campaign including Zelda's in that one, and think it's definitely worth mentioning due to how different Zeldas gameplay is to links. Uh anyway based on that game alone I have very high hopes for the gameplay of Zelda, as well as the thinks the higher ups at Nintendo said about sticking with botw/totks direction and play style.

Lastly I'll be honest with you im sleep deprived as shit cause emergency irl shit happened last night and I havent been sleeping well in general so I forgot my big thing i wanted to talk about in this segment but uh. Salvaged bits are yada yada Zelda mechanics parallels to other games more characterization more well written fanfics that aren't JUST skyward sword and botw for her etc etc based on how they handled princess peach showtimes characterization [which like. Honest to God really hard character to write in 2024 due to her roots being damsel in distress 101 and people tending to mostly correctly point at any pinky extra feminine girl and shout misogynistic] I really don't think Nintendo can fuck this up, and I am fully confident they won't fuck it up :].

ALSO CAPE CAPE ZELDA CAPE SHE HAS A CAPE ITS A CAPE ZELDAS CAPE ITS SO CUTE GOOD CHARACTER DESIGN SHE HAS A CAPE ITS SO CUTE OH MY GOD CAPE CAPE CAPE SHE HAS A CAPE

Oh yeah actually I did like the little bit of the trailer I did see that link shot her free at the last second, showing he is still in character and they didn't shoehorn in an idea to have a female protagonist like other series would do, but that every side of the triforce is equally powerful. I expect this game to be like if links awakenings dungeon puzzles were used on the overworld, and based on another Tumblr post I saw there might be some diplomatic puzzles. Or at least dual sided quest lines

Uh is there anything else I was gonna say. Oh I'm definitely going to be live posting about when I play the game since my birthday [shoutout to sans undertale] is in September so im definitely planning to ask for it or get it myself, even though I know it comes out past my birthday

[bylightofdawn]

Totally not a WIP Sunday I mean Monday I mean Tuesday post.

Because I was so annoyed after fighting with tumblr for hours yesterday I kinda forgot to post a snippet for WIP Sunday.

This was technically written today so it wouldn't count anyway but I'm amusing myself writing Jango and Myles's big brother endlessly teasing his annoyed little brother energy so I'm going to post a snippet today anyway.

Only thing you need to know is Myles and Mace had a very fun not-a-date lunch and they figured out they clicked together on an interpersonal level. And this takes place after that lunch

As always, this is SUPER rough and has not even begun to be spellchecked or grammar checked. Also, I know kad'ika is not real Mandoa but it is so obnoxious sounding that I couldn't not use it.

EDIT: Ended up taking out the joke about a Falleen Mercenary and all the super sticky consent issues with Legends whole sex pheromones thing. It was funny but also kinda a bit of a yikes. This is why we edit things and nothing is promised to end up in the final draft. Pffft

From that point on, their conversation meandered on, covering a surprising number of topics. Mace was actually an interesting conversationalist Myles was discovering and it was surprisingly easy to talk to him.

Outside of Plo Koon, he’d never had much experience dealing with Jedi but Mace definitely wasn’t anything like how he’d imagined a Jedi to be. 

He was funny in a quietly understated, dry humor sort of way but there was definitely a bit of mischief in him despite his attempts at being a staid Jedi. And Stars have mercy on him, he’d never been able to resist a puzzle. 

By the time they finished with their lunch, he was surprised to realize he was sad their time was over. As they walked back towards the Halls of Healing, Mace pointed out various features and things he thought might interest Myles. 

When they reached Jango’s door, the Jedi paused there with a curious look on his face and Myles found himself wondering if he wasn’t the only one who regretted their time was at an end. 

“Thanks for the meal, I appreciate it.” 

“It was my pleasure,” Mace said with one of those barely there smiles of his. 

“We should do this again sometime. Maybe somewhere on this planet there is a place you can find a real Mando meal.”  Myles found himself suggesting suddenly before his brain re-engaged and realized what he’d said. Judging by the surprised look on the Jedi’s face, he had not been expecting it either.

“After your description of Mandalorian food, I’m not sure I would survive the experience.” 

“You are made of sterner stuff, I think you will survive.” 

“I appreciate your confidence in my ability to handle weapons grade spice levels. I saw how much hot sauce you put on your food.” 

“I mean, watching you try and maintain a calm and collected front while your mouth was on fire did sound like a funny sight but I am open to the idea of other food venues I suppose.” 

“So the truth comes out.” Amusement gleamed in the Jedi’s dark eyes when he said that. “I think I would enjoy that. I enjoyed our talks today, Myles. It has been an enlightening experience.”

“Hopefully it’s been a good sort of enlightening.” Myles teased and they exchanged numbers for their coms with the promise to touch base sometime soon to iron out the details of their dinner date. 

With that, Mace left him with a polite nod and Myles let himself into Jango’s room, fully expecting to find the boy asleep. Instead, he sat there looking grumpy and unamused. 

“Seriously?” The teenager asked disbelieving. 

“What?”

“Did you just ask a kriffing Jedi on a date?”

“Did I?” The fact Myles had to ask himself that in a moment of panic didn’t exactly offer reassurance. “How do you even know that?”

“These doors have terrible soundproofing. That’s beside the point, a Jedi.”

“It’s not a date.” 

“Uh huh, I hear that tone of yours. You only use that when you’re trying to sweet talk someone into bed.”

“Okay, first off I think you are skipping like a million steps. Second off, I don’t sound like that when I’m trying to talk someone into bed as you so rudely put it. And third off, even if I was, it’s none of your business.” 

“There has to be something in the water here.” Jango said despaired. 

“What does that even mean?”

“First Jaster and now you? It has to be something in the water that causes perfectly reasonable Mandalorians to take leave of their senses and start sniffing after Jedi like an aak dog in heat.” 

“I would not suggest saying that in front of your father to begin with.” Myles pointed out with a frown. “But besides that, it’s just dinner. He’s actually fun to talk to, and yes he is quite attractive so falling into bed with him wouldn’t be the worst thing ever. I like to think I am doing my part to further diplomatic relations between Mandalore and the Jedi Order.”

“That sounds like a load of osik. But whatever you have to tell yourself to sleep at night.”

“It’s really not that serious, Jan’ika. Just because your gett'se haven’t dropped yet and you have no idea what to do with your kad’ika doesn’t mean other people can’t enjoy quality time with other adults without it needing to be complicated. But again, I still think you are kind of skipping a million steps between now and there.” 

“I hate you so much.” Jango groaned and threw a pillow at Myles head which the older Mandalorian caught easily. 

“I know you really love me deep down, it’s okay. Your secret is safe with me, verd’ika” 

“I’m going to get out of this bed and kick your shebs from one side of this Temple to the next.”

“As much as I would love to see you try I am pretty sure you’d end up flat on your face instead.” 

“Fine, the moment I am released from this awful hospital bed, I am gonna do just that.” 

“I look forward to you trying.” 

“Ugh. You are the actual worst, do you know that?” 

“I think I’m pretty awesome actually.”

“Nope, just the literal worst. I didn’t think you could somehow top that mess with the Dathomiri witch.”

“In my defense, how was I supposed to know she was Nightsister?  I think that still takes the cake for the worst sexual decision of my young life. Honestly, a Jedi seems halfway tame in comparison.”

Jango just shook his head and rolled his eyes heavenward as though asking the universe for patience.

[the-modernmary]

my best habit || aaron hotchner x reader (prologue)

Summary: When Aaron Hotchner ended your affair with him, saying that a serial killer was going after him and his family, you were content with the idea that you'd probably never see him again. Two years have come and gone since then, but when you get dragged into an FBI investigation as a key witness, you and Hotch are forced to come face to face with all the things left unsaid.

Warnings: Age gap (15-ish years), smut, degradation, unprotected sex. This story is 18+ older. This is not a story for minors.

A/N: Hello, hello!! I figured that since I've made a writing tumblr, I should post my story on here!! This is a multichapter story, so I am very excited to go on this journey with y'all!! I already have multiple chapters written and published, so these should be coming out VERY quickly. If you don't want to wait to catch up, you can read everything I have on ao3! This chapter starts as a flashback, and then the next chapter and the rest from here on out will be actual plot!

masterlist || read on ao3

“If you were waitin’ on the sunshine, blue sky

Cheap high, lullaby

Then my best habit’s letting you down”

- The Maine, “My Best Habit”

Two years earlier

Your eyes scanned the University Ballroom, your champagne glass practically ignored in your hand. You hated all these alumni networking galas and avoided going to them as much as possible. Old, sleazy lawyers with much younger women on their arm reliving their best cases with each other and expecting all the new law students to laugh when they were able to get their defendant acquitted because of some dumb technicality. It made you sick.

It didn’t help that you were already going in with a bad attitude. Your ex-boyfriend had dropped by your apartment that morning to pick up the rest of his stuff, and he decided that the best person to help him with that was the girl he had been cheating on you with. You caught them together three weeks ago, and you had been so stressed from midterms that you hadn’t even had the chance to go out, get drunk, and have wildly irresponsible rebound sex.

But you had to suck it up for the night, at least until you were able to get the answer you came for. After that, you could go back to your apartment, replace your too tight and too short dress with some nice pajamas, and watch trashy reality TV until you passed out on your couch.

You scanned the room a few more times until you caught sight of a tall man in a dark suit leaning against the bar. Bingo. You set your champagne flute down and ran over to him as fast as your heels could take you. Once you were just a few steps away, you quickly composed yourself and walked straight into his line of sight.

SSA Aaron Hotchner rarely came to alumni events here at George Washington Law School, citing that he wasn’t even a prosecutor anymore and had much more important work to do back at the BAU, but he was going as favor to his old law school buddy. Plus, it was either coming to this or going out to the bar with the team, and seeing as he had just signed the divorce papers with Haley, he wanted to be somewhere he wasn’t going to be profiled all night. The free champagne was also a bonus.

When you saw that his name was on the RSVP list, you knew that you had to go.

“Agent Hotchner?” you asked, giving him your best straight A student smile.

He refused to look up right away, not giving you the chance to charm him. “I’m not currently on duty. If there is a case you would like the BAU to look over, that’s handled by our media liaison,” he said absently, taking another sip of champagne.

You frowned but kept your hand out for him to shake. “That’s not what I’m here for, I-” You took a breath to compose yourself. “My name is Y/N Y/L/N. I’m a first year here- getting a joint JD and masters in forensic psychology. My goal is to become a prosecutor,” you pressed, and you were rewarded when he perked up in interest. He slid his drink on the table.

“Most law firms don’t usually want a prosecutor who’s going to empathize with the person you’re prosecuting,” he mused, and shook your hand, his grip just tight enough to pass as faux politeness.

You shook your head and clasped your hands behind your back, trying to ignore how warm his hands were. “I think the best prosecutors empathize with the defendants,” you admitted. “Isn’t that how you succeeded as both a prosecutor and as a federal agent? That’s actually why I came to you, I wanted to ask you a question... about my thesis,” you added quickly, figuring that the best way to get him to talk to you.

Aaron’s posture changed from half asleep to maybe listening, and your face went red. Sure, you only came to the event to talk to him, but you never thought that you’d actually get Aaron Hotchner to pay attention to you. “I didn’t empathize with the people I was putting in jail,” he told you, his voice ice cold. “That didn’t come until I worked in the BAU, and even now, I wouldn’t call it empathy. Just understanding of how they became the type of person they are.” He leaned sideways on the bar counter and you felt yourself shrink under his gaze. You shifted slightly and felt the hem of your dress move up your thighs ever so slightly. Aaron noticed too, if the lick of his lips was anything to go by.

You took his silence as your signal to ask your question. “You offered Jessica Michaelson a lesser sentence that had her released in just three years despite the fact that she murdered her brother in cold blood in his sleep. You had the evidence, why didn’t you push for premeditation?” you asked, and his eyebrow quirked upwards. “In the case The People vs. Michaelson,” you added unnecessarily, trying to break the silence.

“I know the case you’re referring to. I was the lead on it,” he reminded you, his voice edging on dangerous. “You know, most people aren’t interested in my days as a lawyer.”

You shrugged, hoping to appear more confident than you felt. “I’m not most people,” you agreed, biting down on your lower lip. His gaze was so intense, and it was affecting you in ways you couldn’t have imagined. It was turning you on, you realized with a start. It had been a while since you had last had sex, and it was driving you only slightly crazy. “But that doesn’t answer my question.”

Aaron grabbed a champagne flute from a server walking by, and shoved it in your direction. You grabbed it cautiously. “Did you read the police report on the case?” he asked, and you nodded wordlessly, taking a sip of the champagne. The alcohol was making you bolder, and you stepped towards him. “Then you’ll know that there was very little physical evidence tying her to the muder. We chose to offer the charge that would have stuck instead of risking her being found not guilty.”

You gritted your teeth together in an effort to calm yourself down. “She murdered four people within the six months after she was released from prison,” you reminded him.

That seemed to have struck a chord with Aaron, and his steely persona seemed to fade ever so slightly. He sighed exasperatedly; you were obviously getting on his nerves. “The prints and DNA that were collected and put into VICAP when she was in prison are what got her caught in the end, and that was the evidence needed to lock her away for life. We wouldn’t have gotten those prints without her original charge. It all worked out.”

You groaned and threw your hands in the air. “You couldn’t have predicted that, though,” you argued. “And people have been found guilty with way less evidence than you had in the original case. I think you just felt bad for her, considering her brother was a real piece of shit.” You were being difficult now, you knew that. But there was something about Aaron Hotcher that was pulling you in, and you wanted to see how far you could push him.

Aaron gave you a predatory grin and he stepped towards you ever so slightly, finishing his drink. He must have had multiple drinks too, judging by the soft flush on his face. “Oh, you do?” He seemed amused now. He slowly raked his eyes from your face, down your neck, and down the rest of your body, and you forgot how to breath. You knew that it was inappropriate and that he was a highly respected FBI agent, even if he was kind of an asshole at the moment. You also knew that the two of you were crossing lines that neither of you should have even been close to, but you shivered under the weight of his gaze all the same.

You shifted back and forth, your brain trying to process what was happening. “Yeah, I do. And I know that you transferred to the FBI after Michaelson was arrested again, which makes me think that this case was your breaking point,” you ranted, your hands becoming more and more animated.

Aaron chuckled, but there was very little amusement behind it. “Are you sure you want to be a lawyer?” he asked, cocking his head to the side. “Because you’re starting to talk like a profiler.”

You arched an eyebrow at him. “No thanks,” you said firmly, and he just shrugged before making a move to walk past you. You sidestepped in front of him, effectively blocking him from going anywhere. But it was obvious that he was done talking about this.

In your mind, you had two options now. You could keep pushing him about a case that he obviously didn’t want to talk to you about, or you could switch gears in your brain and have him help you solve your... other problem. Aaron was attractive, and you were getting tired of guys your age. You noticed the distinct lack of a wedding ring on his finger, but there was still a tan to show that it had been there. So either he was recently separated or just trying to cheat on his wife. You wanted to not care whichever it was, but a pang in your heart told you to be considerate. Besides, you did not want to get involved with another cheater.

“Must be hard to be at these events without your wife here to scare off all the lonely female law students,” you mused cautiously. You didn’t want to come on too strong, but the alcohol in your system was slowly clouding your ability to be subtle.

Aaron cleared his throat, obviously taken aback by the sudden shift in conversation. “I’m not married,” he said, too quickly and too defensively. So he’s separated, you thought, and you stepped closer to him.

His eyebrows furrowed as he tried to figure out your endgame. “Well, I would love to discuss your work as a prosecutor more when there are less… distractions around,” you whispered, your words breathy. “Tell me Agent Hotchner, do I make you nervous?” You sounded a lot more confident than you felt.

Aaron just smirked and grabbed your free hand, covering it in both of his, and the action was surprisingly soft, even if it was way too late for him to try acting suave. His eyes, on the other hand, told a whole other story. His pupils were so dilated that his eyes were practically black. “I face the worst people in society on a daily basis. Desperate law students don’t make me nervous. In fact…” He stepped towards you, looking around to make sure nobody else was looking. Aaron leaned in close, his lips brushing against your ear with every word. “I think that I make you nervous. And more than nervous, I make you very excited.”

Your breath hitched as he pulled back, a smug smile gracing his lips. You yanked your hand back to preserve what little dignity you had left, but it was too late. “Now, if you would like to discuss my prosecuting career more in depth, then you can set up a formal meeting with me at the BAU,” he continued, obviously proud of himself and the effect he was having on you. He pulled out a business card and upon further instruction, you realized that it wasn’t even his. Jennifer Jareu the name read. “Our media liaison will be able to help you organize that. Now if you don’t mind, I am going to retire for the night.”

Aaron finished the rest of his drink and brushed past you while you were still trying to get your thoughts under control. “Oh, and you’ll make a wonderful lawyer someday, I’m sure of it,” he called over his shoulder, and that snapped you back into action.

You followed, running around him and cutting him off. “And if I don’t want to discuss your prosecuting career?” you asked, batting your eyelashes at him. “What if I was interested in a… less formal meeting?”

That was all the permission he needed. Aaron grabbed your hand and pulled you out of the ballroom, the two of you moving so fast that nobody in the room even had a chance to put two and two together. There was an empty hallway just next to the entrance of the room and Aaron pulled you in that direction, pressing you against the wall and kissing you fiercely the second the two of you were alone.

There was nothing gentle about the kiss, but in a strange role reversal, he let you take the lead. It’s certainly not what you expected from Aaron Hotchner who, until now, had been controlling every aspect of your meeting. You realized then that this was his way of making sure you were okay with what was happening- giving you a chance to back out and change your mind. You just answered by tangling your hands in his hair, pulling so that he was at just the right angle to kiss you.

Aaron dug his fingers into your hips, hard enough to make you gasp out. You were definitely going to have bruises the next day, but you couldn’t be bothered to care. He shoved his leg in between yours and tugged on your lip with his teeth, which made you whimper involuntarily. He smirked against your lips, obviously proud of the noises he was drawing from you. You pulled on his hair harder as a sign of irritation, but that seemed to only make him more amused as he pulled away to laugh into your neck.

“Are we just going to make out against a wall like we’re back in high school, or are you going to actually do something worth my time?” you breathe, fighting to keep your voice even and light. It only halfway worked as he dragged his tongue up your neck to your pulse point. And then he bit down, hard.

It took everything in your power to stay quiet, especially as he softly kissed the newly forming bruise. His attack on your neck was relentless as he pulled your hips and back forth against his thigh. You whimpered as you desperately tried to get any friction from the simple movement. Your skirt was now dangerously close to being pushed so far up your legs that you would be completely exposed.

You pulled away first- you had to or your legs were going to completely give out from under you. You desperately tried to get your breathing under control and, to your annoyance, he looked perfectly composed. The only thing giving him away was his slightly swollen lips.

His fingers trailed up your thigh, getting so close to where you want him. “What would you like me to do then?” he asked easily, his voice almost sounding bored. You were speechless, like your brain had just short circuited. There were a lot of things you wanted him to do, but the words were lost on the tip of your tongue. “If you want something, you have to ask for it.” That was a demand, and he punctuated it by pressing his thigh further into you. You were sure he was going to have a wet spot on his slacks. He took the hand not in between your legs and grabbed your jaw forcefully, his thumb resting on your bottom lip. “Use your words, little girl.”

You realize that the two of you were standing on the edge of a cliff, and you had the power to decide whether or not to jump over. It gave you a strange sense of power. Logically, you knew it was a bad idea. He was too old for you, obviously going through some sort of relationship trauma, and wasn’t somebody you could talk to your friends and family about. But the less rational side wanted him so badly it hurt. You wanted him more than you’ve wanted anything or anyone in a long time.

You noticed your strawberry colored lipstick was smudged ever so slightly on the corner of his mouth, and that’s all it took for you to jump off the side of the cliff. “I want you to drag me into the empty classroom just down the hall and fuck me senseless. I want you to use me,” you moan before taking his thumb into your mouth and sucking.

The look on his face is something you’ll never forget. There was a mix of shock and arousal, but also something primitive; His eyes darkened when you told him to use you, and there was a fluttering in your stomach. You couldn’t tell if it was from excitement or dread. Maybe even both.

He removed his hands from your mouth and legs, only to place his hand on the small of your back. He began walking towards the classroom you had pointed out, much too slow for your liking, but he knew exactly what he was doing. “You’re going to regret asking me to use you,” he practically growls in your ear, each word increasing your arousal. “Are you one of those lonely female law students you warned me about? So desperate and needy for a real man to bend you over a table and fuck you until you can’t walk straight? Ready and willing to whore yourself out for the first man who gives you a second glance?”

Your breath hitched as you stuttered out your answer. “Y-yes, Agent Hotchner,” you whispered as he opened the classroom door and guided you in.

As soon as the door was shut and locked, he was back on your lips again, lifting you so that you were sitting on one of the desks with your legs wrapped around his waist. “Call me Aaron,” he mumbled in between kisses, and you were all too happy to oblige.

You were a moaning mess at this point as his hands pushed your dress up to your waist. His hands and lips were somehow everywhere at once and you were so hot and all you could think about was getting your damn dress off, but Aaron seemed to have other plans.

He ran his fingers up your lace covered slit and he just chuckled into your lips. “You’re so wet for me, already,” he groaned and you let out an embarrassingly loud moan. “And I’ve barely touched you. Do my words really have that much effect on you? Do you like it when I call you a whore?”

He hooked his fingers under the waistband of your panties and quickly pulled them down. You could feel his bulge pressing against you and all you could think about was how badly you wanted it. How badly you wanted him. Your hands moved down his chest to make quick work of his belt, and his pants followed after.

“Please, please Aaron,” you begged, desperately trying to create some friction against him. His fingers tangled in your hair and he pulled your head back so that you were looking at him.

“You’re so pretty when you beg.” His fingers slowly ran up your slit, not enough to give you any pleasure. He was teasing you and enjoying every second of it. “And I wish I could take my time with you. The things I want to do to you…” Two of his fingers entered you and you cried out loudly. “But somebody could walk in on us at any second. I’m sure they can all hear you moaning like a dirty whore, all for me. But you’d like that, wouldn’t you? So desperate for my attention and approval.”

His words turned you on more than you would have liked to admit. “Yes, Aaron yes. Please-” you were cut off by Aaron curling his fingers, hitting that spot that made you want to scream out in pleasure. But all too soon, they were gone.

He inspected his fingers, which were now covered in your juices, before bringing them to your mouth. “Suck,” he ordered, and you eagerly complied, wrapping your lips around his fingers and moaning at the taste of yourself. “I’ll just have to fuck you quickly here, and then you’ll be begging for more next time,” he groaned and finally- finally- entered you.

He didn’t give you time to adjust to him, thrusting roughly into you. He removed his fingers from your mouth and brought his hand to your neck. He didn’t put any pressure, but he wanted you to know that he could and would if you decided to get mouthy with him.

Your hands gripped the edge of the desk you were sitting on, your knuckles turning white. Your eyes started to close in pleasure as his hips slammed into yours, but they shot open as he tightened his grip on your throat. “Look at me. I want to see you when you cum,” he ordered, and you nodded the best you could.

“Yes sir!” you cried out, unsure of what else to say.

Seemingly satisfied with your answer, Aaron released your throat and moved his hand down so that he was stimulating your clit. You could feel the coil in your stomach tighten as your legs started to twitch. Aaron took this as motivation to slam into you even harder, relishing each time you gasped out his name.

His pace was unforgiving, leaving you gasping for air. Keeping your eyes open was a challenge, but you were able to do it with his soft mutters of praise. “Even brats like you can be good girls,” he groaned, his thrusts becoming erratic. “You just need somebody to fuck it into you.”

You were unable to respond coherently, so you just settled on begging even more, although you weren’t sure what you were begging for exactly. Aaron seemed to know, and he sped up his fingers against your clit. You wanted to scream out for him, but your voice wasn’t working. “What did I say before?” he asks roughly. “If you want something, ask for it.”

“Please… please can I cum?” you cried out, feeling yourself getting close to the edge. “Please let me cum around your cock!”

He nodded in approval and you had to muffle yourself in his neck to keep quiet. He fucked you through your orgasm, the overstimulation almost too much, but it wasn’t long before he was moaning your name, and you felt him fill you.

The two of you stayed like that for a few moments, both breathing heavily as the situation started to sink in. You just let a guy almost 15 years older than you that you just met fuck you in an empty classroom, and you really enjoyed it. Aaron, on the other hand, looked like he was going through a full crisis.

He pulled out of you slowly, and you winced at the feeling. He pulled up his pants quickly. “Fuck,” he muttered under his breath, looking around the empty classroom. “I don’t have anything good to clean you up with.” A box of kleenex caught his eye and he grabbed a few tissues. It was better than nothing.

You chuckled nervously and waved it off. “It’s fine,” you promised, your voice coming out shakier than you expected, but he ignored you. He wiped the mess dripping down your thighs. You were cold. He must have noticed, because he took off his suit jacket and wrapped it around your shoulders.

“Are you okay?” Aaron asked softly, and it was a full 180 from the way he had just been talking to you.

“I’m great,” you admitted honestly. “Seriously, that was… great.”

Aaron smiled at you- the first real smile he had given you all night. “It wasn’t too much?” he confirmed, and you suddenly remembered what he had said to you earlier. ...then you’ll be begging for more next time. Was he planning on a next time? You wouldn’t have minded it.

You shook your head and slowly slid off the table. You took one of the tissues and wiped up the mess that was left on the table. “Not at all. In fact, I could take more. Next time.” Your voice was light and airy. Aaron watched as you picked your underwear off the floor. There was no way you were putting those back on, not when you had no idea when the floor was last cleaned.

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep,” he teased, eyeing you carefully.

“Well I can’t keep it if I only have your media liaison’s number,” you reminded him, your eyebrow raised. Aaron chuckled and pulled out another business card, except this time it was his. You plucked the card out of his hands and inspected it carefully. “I’ll call you sometime. You can do all those other things we didn’t have time to do.” You were on your tiptoes now, whispering in his ear. “You know… my mouth can do a lot more than just ask for things.” As you spoke, you slipped your panties into his back pocket. You just laughed as you heard a soft gasp escape his lips.

You made your way towards the door, your legs wobbling dangerously underneath you. You were sure that you looked like a mess, but you didn’t care. All that mattered to you was Aaron Hotchner’s eyes glued to your ass. “Get home safe,” he told you and you let yourself smile. Maybe it was a bad idea to start sleeping with a recent divorcee, but the sex was great and you both knew where you stood with the other person. No feelings, just fucking out your frustrations and stress.

Oh yeah, coming to this event was definitely a good call on your part.

[nice-kill-tanaka]

🌄Hikaru + Tease Crush🌌

Summary: Aaaa idk tsundere hikaru brain go brrrrrr,.

A/N: Lowkey, I’m not too sure about this one. But, how good it is comes down to how well it’s received by you guys. It’s in your hands now tumblr!!

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🌗Hikaru Hitachiin🌗

You, a new second year at Ouran Middle School, happened to meet Hikaru and Kaoru in a once in a blue moon situation

✨Separately✨

You and your parents were commoners from another region of Japan. But, due to trying times, you were sent to live with your impossibly wealthy grandparents to finish your education while your parents got back on their feet

So, you clearly had no idea how to navigate what felt like the world’s biggest campus

Taking initiative, you decided to take a free period to mentally map out at least the middle school campus. You were not about to be late to every single class again, lest you start getting detention

You were somewhere near the courtyard when you heard soft, delicate sobs from around the corner, followed by fast footsteps leading away from you

You quickened your pace to at least see what was going on, and the scene you walked in on told you everything you needed to know

The sobs were coming from a girl in your year, who seemed eager to get away from the courtyard. And leaning on the pillar on the bend, was a tall redhead who looked far too satisfied with himself. At least if your assumptions were correct

You decided not to go off on the boy right away, so you wouldn’t embarrass yourself

“Ah...Did I intrude on something?”

The boy apparently hadn’t noticed you until you said something, but quickly regained his composure

“Nah, you had good timing. We were just finishing up.”

“...We?”

Hikaru suddenly remembered

You were new to Ouran. And at this point, you probably haven’t memorized faces yet. Even if they were identical

That, and the fact that Kaoru was still behind a bush watching everything play out, was enough for Hikaru to try something new

“Me and that girl you saw, I mean.”

“Yeah, alright. What’s your deal with her, by the way? She didn’t sound too happy.”

Hikaru shrugged, “Dishonesty, disloyalty, stuff like that. I just gave her a piece of my mind and she couldn’t handle it.”

“Hm, I figured she couldn’t. She’s crying pretty hard.”

“Then she shouldn’t have been trying to sneak around with other guys.”

Alright...you halfway understood the guy. If you were in his shoes, you’d at least want to do something similar. But, going out of your way to emotionally decimate someone that clearly isn’t worth your time? Seems a little excessive

‘But, hey,’ you thought. ‘To each their own.’

You kept your composure around the boy, shrugging and turning to walk away. “I get that. What did you say your name was?”

“Mm? Hikaru.”

“Hikaru. If that girl’s really as horrible as you say she is, I think it’s hilarious that you’d give her pathetic ass the time of day.”

That jab technically wasn’t aimed at Hikaru, but the way you said it. The way you turned back slightly to flash a shit-eating grin at him. It was clear your comment was meant to say more about Hikaru than the girl he told off

In short, Hikaru ended up not liking you

Meeting Kaoru went a bit more smoothly

Since you were in Class B at the time (you were to transfer to Class A next semester), you didn’t actually gather that the asshole you met the other day had a whole brother. So, that case of whiplash was particularly strong

During a lunch period within the same year, you decided to sit alone. Nothing personal really, but being around twenty-four other kids your age with such a high amount of tunnel vision gets suffocating at a certain point

Not too far away, Hikaru had gotten up to use the bathroom, leaving Kaoru to his own devices for a bit

It wasn’t long before he found a familiar face in you, sitting alone and looking rather bored

Of course, Kaoru hadn’t personally talked to you yet. The only things he heard about you were from Hikaru, which still wasn’t much, considering that his brother seemed too embarrassed and pissed to say anything beyond: “They’re an asshole. They’re not worth talking to.”

But, regardless of Hikaru’s first impression of you, Kaoru thought it would be fun to mess with you for a bit

I’m fully convinced you have the eagle eye, because you noticed Kaoru before he even said anything

“If you’re still pressed about what I said the other day, Hikaru, trust me, I was just messing with you.”

Damn at least let him speak 💀

Kaoru noticed that even though you thought he was Hikaru, your posture and tone held no animosity. You seemed relaxed, even sending a half smile Kaoru’s way

Your aura felt overall likable, so what could you have said to Hikaru to tick him off so much??

“Oh, don’t worry about it. I actually almost forgot about that.”

Immediately, something didn’t click with you

“You sound different today, man. Everything okay?”

...What??

Kaoru wasn’t sure how you figured it out, but no one was usually able to tell the difference between his and Hikaru’s voices and speech patterns, period. Let alone upon hearing both twins once separately

“What do you mean...? I’ve always sounded like this?”

“Hm, must be a bad case of laryngitis then. How’s your twin doing, by the way?”

Kaoru’s expression didn’t betray much, but your knowing and lighthearted smile sure did

He originally wasn’t going to tell you the whole truth. But, you seemed like you’d be too much fun (given some time) to pass up getting on your good side!

It almost felt strange, inviting someone else into his and Hikaru’s little world. But, even if you were just a toy for now, you were someone Kaoru wanted to keep around 

Kaoru introduced himself with his real name while he explained his relationship with Hikaru, and your face was priceless

Sure, you knew that the boy in front of you wasn’t acting like the Hikaru you met a few days back. But, the twin brother thing was a complete shot in the dark!!

But, Kaoru laughed and dragged you and your lunch to his and Hikaru’s table

Ooh, when I say Hikaru was NOT thrilled??

He was seething when you gave him that same look as before

“Hey there, Heartbreaker. Nice to see you again.” 😊😊🙃🙃

Hikaru flushed as Kaoru tried to hide his giggles behind his hand

Yeah, that kind of sums up your dynamic 😂

From then on, whenever you were around the twins, you drove a clear wedge in their “identical” personalities. Just by the fact that you treated them both differently

Kaoru was your partner in crime, playing along with your jokes and often taking more agency in making decisions than usual. You were both mature, yet mischievous, so you were often on the same page

We stan compatible friends 👏😌

Hikaru...was kind of��your sentient punching bag

From your first conversation with him to now, you gathered that Hikaru had a weirdly prominent petty streak, with some emotional constipation on the side. All of this, manifesting in a semi-childish, stubborn mess with a hair-trigger temper (At least, when it comes to you and Kaoru poking at him)

You weren’t exactly intent on improving those flaws (Since it’s technically not your job to fix the vices of others), but you most certainly let Hikaru know that those qualities weren’t something to be proud of. Especially when he let them get the better of him

And you did just that by teasing the hell out of him

“Aww, is little Hikaru upset that Italian isn’t being served at lunch today??”

“Ooh, don’t get too angry! You might pop a vein.”

“Y’know, you’d think a normal human being wouldn’t blush as much as you do. Are you really that bothered by me?”

Yes! He was!

He felt bothered and threatened because you dragged out every single flaw that no one (not even Kaoru) dared to call out until now. Not that he could give a name to that feeling an the moment

You were surprisingly clairvoyant for someone that strategically abused that fact. You always had an upper hand, and that wasn’t something Hikaru was used to

But, after a while, his frequent showcases of embarrassment began happening for a different reason

In between all of the teasing, you were never downright mean to Hikaru. You were just as nice to him as you were to Kaoru

Hikaru often enjoyed the bentos you made the twins on random days (Though, he failed to admit it on a regular basis)

When the teacher was going a little too fast, you’d always let Hikaru copy off of your notes

And man, you sure did look good at the beginning of the day...when the morning sun lights up your eyes, and-

Oh...

Oh no.

So, that’s why every time you’d get on Hikaru’s case, he would get flustered and look away. He liked you??

Hikaru can’t let anyone know about this. Especially you.

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[🌌Take this for your travels, bud. Don’t worry about paying me or anything, everything’s on the house! Though 🍁likes🍁 and ☘️reblogs☘️ are appreciated!🌄] — Reagan

[evanescentdawn]

WOW this got much longer than expected, and basically a full-blown fic idea that I desperately want now

(might add more to this since it doesn’t hold all of my thoughts yet and I’m nowhere finished it)

the idea is: ritsu accidentally confesses to teru when he didn’t even want to confess. he doesn’t like teru at all. but of course, teru hears nothing of that. he completely misunderstands, and thinks that ritsu is in love with him.

things escalate.

they do end up falling in love, in the end, though. <3

ft. one-sided terumob and Other Ideas

this manhwa summary/plot hit me out of nowhere, like I just recalled and went, oh my god, this would be the perfect idea for riteru

imagining Ritsu that accidentally confesses to teru. it’s completely by accident, and because a series of events that too complicated to explain. the problem is that now teru is convinced that Ritsu likes him, and nothing that Ritsu says will see as anything but that

“oh, brother-kun. I never knew.” teru says, with a bright smile. “is that how you act with your crushes? where you just shy all the time.... I almost got the wrong time”

this is all going to fast for ritsu to swallow. too fast for to ritsu to deal with. he’s still stuck in the moment where his own mouth betrayed him. “no...” he manages to get out, but it’s all already to late.

every time that ritsu tries to object, teru is going to think that he’s been shy and embarassed which is horribly not true. he hates that teru thinks is, doesn’t want teru to ever think that. the idea of him in — in —

just thinking of it, repulses him.

he tries his everything to correct this misunderstanding. (he fails)

omg, I just remembered! I was thinking about my other wip, where teru does misunderstand about Ritsu asking him out on a date or smth and then, while I was thinking about I was like... what if it was a confession? and then I recalled that manhwa

anyways! oh my god this would definitely get to mob at one point. but first all, thinking about Teru’s thoughts regarding all of this

he’s like of course, little brother-kun likes me. I’m me. but unfortunately for him, teru is already in love with someone else. mob. well. I was thinking that teru doesn’t like ritsu back, but teru being in love with his mob instead also sounds fun

teru looking at him with a pitying look, teru agreeing to week-date and giving Ritsu some of his time to deal with all this. Ritsu being baffled at all. like who the hell...

and just dislikes teru more, because the ego and the audacity he has... just what. the fuck.

Ritsu has never said anything, teru is just running with this and Ritsu is aware of how he likes his brother, so he tries to use that to get out of this whole mess. “but what about—”

teru hasn’t realised that his love for mob was that obvious and goes, oh, and acts all more pitying towards ritsu and is like Ritsu is all heartbroken about his. and going this is all makes sense now. ritsu likes him, and that’s why he tried to intervene with his precious time with mob. it’s all very understandable now.

it’s not understandable.

ritsu does not like him

ritsu is not heartbroken

teru is missing all the points. he just hated teru presence there, and wanted to be the one to spend with his brother then. and he hated how disgustingly shameless teru was around shigeo.

but of course, ritsu doesn’t get time to explain. he doesn’t get time to do anything. he has to go home, wondering, how did fuck this happen, why teru. blames on the elder woman who was there and had to speak then, and interrupt him him at that time, and blames reigen because actually this was all his fault. he wouldn’t be there if it wasn’t for him. teru wouldn’t be there if it wasn’t for him. the elder woman wouldn’t be there if it wasn’t him. clearly, the fault of mis-timing and him tripping of his words all falls on reigen.

he goes home, dark-faced and clutching the handle of his school bag, with a more deep distaste of reigen

oblivious to all that was occurring, and because of his simple act of telling mob something, reigen feels a ice-cold shudder at the back of his neck.

(perhaps, he just got cursed)

ritsu goes home, exhausted by everything, and sees mob there. sitting and looking happy, and expectant when he sees mob.

after a moment, ritsu asks his usual question of, how did your day go?

mob excitedly tells him how he managed to do this thing in the body improvement club which would seem like a trival thing to any person. but ritsu knows about his brother and his struggles and how this is a improvement. also yeah, I did say that mob says it excitedly but felt like I need to express how it sounds monotone and like it’s anything but exciteding and you weren’t someone that knew him you wouldn’t see how obviously exciting he is

at least one of them had a good day. “that’s good. that’s an amazing achievement, brother.”

mob beams.

ritsu feels worse at the fact that he can’t put more enthusiasm at that and hates teru even more, and reigen, and this whole situation

he goes to sleep.

he has a undisturbed sleep to the degree that when he wakes the next time, he can ALMOST delude himself that nothing. absolutely nothing happened.

teru appearing that morning disturbs it. he had forgotten about teru uninvited morning drop-ins despite how he doesn’t live in the same school as them and his house isn’t close to them

(oh my god, this just reminded me of haru. and now I’m thinking about a mp100 khr au which AAAAA would be so good.)

teru is the same as every morning. he’s dressed and dazzling with his bright yellow aura, way to early in the morning, and up in shigeo’s presence as his brother tries to go about his morning routine of getting ready for school.

just got struck by the image of: mob, sleepy, and brushing his teeth in the bathroom while teru stands in there with him and talks about stuff and admires himself in the mirror. it would be so perfect

ritsu is annoyed by his whole existence. he busies himself with getting though, and spends him lowkey (highkey this is ritsu after all) in awful anticipation of whatever teru is going to say about the confession

no, no, no, Hold on wait. ritsu WOULDNT busing himself with getting ready. he would be doing anything but that. he wouldn’t be able to relax and get ready in the house, when teru is here and everything unknown. and especially when teru is here and he talks a lot.... and might say something to his brother...

yeah, no, ritsu is taking no chances. he’s up in teru’s presence and trying to take him from his brother, and just making sure that he doesn’t say something.

.........which of course oh my god horribly makes this misunderstanding even worse

(will teru even learn that it’s misunderstanding? is it more better for him to never know. so what if it was based on a lie? ritsu will fall for him anyways.)

before this, I was thinking that teru doesn’t say anything and ritsu is almost able to relax when he gets a call, and then, a date dropped on him. because of course, having the tense/anticipation built up while teru is the same as always and acting like he doesn’t know anything, until the moment that they are saying goodbye and mob is out of the frame —

doesn’t even GIVE time for ritsu to be aware of anything, or be prepared, when he turns to him after saying goodbye to mob, and with a smile, “

did I say a call before? well. not a call anymore. it’s said in person, with a wink, and a smile. “gonna collect you after school”

ritsu is left........ idk actually. how would he act after that?? how does ONE act after that??? after the

wait, oh my god. yes, teru would definitely also drop in the fact that ritsu focusing on him all that time, and how did he never knew.... telling ritsu how his actions helped to grow this misunderstandings

it would be PERFECT

jeez. this is getting really long and totally a full blown fic idea. do I stop here and do little time stamps? or do I continue.

im continuing.

ritsu wishing that teru doesn’t appear. ritsu technically having no school, shit I forgot. what club is in again? whatever that school thing is. yeah, that. having no meeting or anything to do there there, but ritsu trying to find something to do. only to delay the time.

but, undisturbed by ever, standing in all his dazzlingly glory, teru is waiting for him there while he’s in conversation with others

in contract, ritsu looks weary and time and wishing to be nowhere but here. and wishing that he didn’t take those extra duties, because it was tedious and trying and the fact that teru is here and is still waiting after that....

teru directs a bright smile to ritsu when he notices him, that ritsu has to slightly squint at,

oh my god. that just remembered me of that tumblr post that goes on about “zy was like the sun” descriptions and how they would be squinting or smth. and that’s definitely teru and Ritsu. oh my god, I need to write that scrne

anyways, back to the story. I don’t think that they would go on a date this time around. maybe, something had happen. I was thinking along the lines that teru wasn’t here because of ritsu, but because of mob and plans they had but that went to poof that morning because of reigen or smth. after all, ritsu is the one who likes teru and teru isnt.

actually. maybe that doesn’t happen this scene but I WOULD LOVE a moment where ritsu misunderstands and teru immediately corrects about that, like how he wasn’t here for him or that he wasn’t waiting for him or smth. and that his life/thoughts doesn’t resolve him (implying that Ritsu’s does resolve teru) and honestly, he should know, that this whole setup is because ritsu is the one with the feelings and teru is here and being a good person and indulging him out of pityness

ritsu seethes. none of that is right. and he hates teru’s condescending attitude. like the AUDACITY of this man. (he’s also very, very embarrassed about his mistake which I imagine would him make go the mile in never mistaking teru’s actions; which wouldn’t in favour for teru when he does fall for ritsu and his actions become more genuine in the nature that it’s for love but ritsu has that iron wall up)

so like, going back, where was I? yes, them walking home because there’s enough time for date. that works better for this situation. mmh, but I was thinking about whether teru would be waiting that long for him. or maybe, because he said so and so he did wait. or maybe, that teru has some other plan now and doesn’t have time for that date or smth

either way, ritsu is glad. ritsu is happy. ritsu is very relieved that

(oh no, another fic idea. from that meme(TM) where teru falls the downstairs, and reigen asks why ritsu is happy, because he never is in reigen’s presence and shou goes; teru fell the downstairs. and now I’m thinking about how the fuck did teru fall the downstairs. properly because of mob. definitely because of mob. and ritsu love for his brother and resolve that his brother is the best person grow because of this)

anyways back to what I was saying. ritsu is relived that he did that club activity thing.

what he isn’t happy about that teru is here, and still walking him home. doesn’t he have better stuff to...? and then, at time, teru asks him when he fell for him and

things click in place.

teru is here because he wants to get off more on the non-love that Ritsu has for love because he has that much of an ego

“I don’t.” ritsu says. which, of course, teru replies with amusement and saying that he doesn’t have to hide now. he knows. which makes ritsu go, urghhh in frustration and digust.

just looked at the time and I swear I started writing this somewhere in 9pm and now it’s 10pm. whoops.

anyways, teru asking ritsu questions about his love for him and ritsu saying, “no, I don’t love you” and

“no I don’t — what the hell? what [specific-thing-about-teru-that-teru-expects-ritsu-to-notice] no I haven’t. why would I??????”

and teru going, hmm, “guess your love isn’t that strong” and Ritsu bafflement,

and teru definitely asking him about what about he loves about him, and Ritsu going “nothing” and teru laughing, “you got humour” but ritsu is not joking

(now whether the teru knows ritsu actually doesn’t love him or he doesn’t is never addressed. I love it being ambiguous more)

they eventually reach ritsu’s home, and teru has a good satisfied ego-stroke from that conversation while ritsu just looks Tired

skipping over to fun date shenanigans! what types dates would they go on?

of course we gotta have cinema date!!! I have been thinking of ritsu having “likes human drama” in his character profile a lot and while I don’t remember what it said for teru, he does...like gossip right?? I’m actually unsure about that as we’ll BUT ANYWAYS teru loves to give his ideas on stuff

and anyways thinking about how ritsu expected to having the worst time, and it starts off as awful. like about how he doesn’t want to be here, and the movie that teru chooses doesn’t look good, and teru picked up the love seats for them

and anyways thinking about, how ritsu is not optimistic about anything and is not here to enjoy himself but as the movie starts....as the movie continues in.....

he gets INVOLVED. he finds that this is straight up his genre

and teru asking him how the movie was afterwards and talking about it, and immediately refuting whatever he says and offering an alternative that teru refutes and that one part in the convo where they

oh my god STRAWS. DRINKS STRAWS. Ritsu getting a specific drink that he likes and that teru side eying it, and going, huh, I haven’t that before, it good? and Ritsu nodding and teru just going for it and drinking it as well from the other side

...because it’s a couple drink or smth and Ritsu PAUSE

and teru acting like it’s totally a normal thing.

(oh my god, new idea: fake dating!!! them having to act like a couple to get into something because of something and getting all-couple things!!!!)

(this reminds me of my other fake dating idea that I want to write, which oh my god would fit with this one I just got)

(riteru fake dating is just So Good. So Perfect heart starry eyes)

gonna stop here, because stuff. so much ideas though!!! still buzzing!!! god, I love them so much and this is gonna be FANTASTIC

but ending off on, teru doing the arm around shoulder thing for ritsu like all the girls he had dated. oh my god, yes.

also...thinking about....mob and him learning through teru but ritsu doesn’t know yet and mob just Dropping on ritsu on time and Ritsu having a flashback through all the times that he had gotten back from date with teru and filling the blanks of

wait. would teru tell mob? would teru want mob to know this.

[universemarvel]

The time Peter should have FIRST called Mr. Stark “Tony.”

By @universemarvel for @sdottkrames

Rating: general audiences

Relationships: Tony Stark & Peter Parker

Characters: Peter Parker & Tony Stark

Summary: an irondad one shot where Peter gets... hurt., and handles it in a Peter Parker Way™️. Tony is honestly just trying his best okay?!?

Part of the @friendly-neighborhood-exchange

Read on ao3 here

Or continue reading via tumblr here...

~

“Peter!”

The kid jumps and his head snaps towards his mentor. He smiles sheepishly. “Yes, Mr. Stark?”

“What are you doing?” Tony held his coffee mug up in front of his mouth in a poor attempt to hide the smile on his face.

Peter looked down to his messy table, which was occupied by empty blue and silver snack wrappers, drinks, and his Spider-Man suit, which he was currently scrubbing with a sponge. He picked up one of the wrappers that still had some did in it. “I’m... trying all the pop tart flavors,” he said, taking a bite out of the pastry.

“You feeling alright?” It’s not often he could walk up unnoticed upon Peter.

But Peter just smiled. “A little lightheaded from the sugar rush, but otherwise fine;” his smile disappeared as quickly as it had come. “Why?”

Tony rolled his eyes. “Why are you scrubbing your suit with a sponge? I’m sure there’s a dishwashing machine somewhere in this building,” he finally revealed his smile.

Peter’s eyebrows scrunched together. “Is the suit dishwasher safe? Because that would actually be great.”

Tony laughed. “I’m not answering that. What happened? And please don’t tell me you’re hand scrubbing your multi-million dollar suit because you forgot to put on deodorant.”

Pink painted Peter’s cheeks as he smiled and shook his head. “No, I just got something on it and it stinks. Do you want to smell it?” He offered the suit up, and Tony took a step back reflexively.

“No thanks, kiddo, I’m rather enjoying my coffee at the moment. However, I do have a decontamination gadget for a reason, so let’s throw it in there for a few hours so we can go back upstairs for dinner. That is, if you’re still hungry after eating New York’s entire stock of pop tarts.”

“Of course I’m hungry,” Peter smiled, “and if your cleany-box doesn’t work, can we try the dishwasher?”

“Absolutely not.”

__________

After dinner, the pair found themselves scrolling through Netflix. Peter’s lightheadedness from earlier had slowly been developing into a headache, but he didn’t want to bother Tony with it.

He didn’t feel like watching a movie, which he figured was a red flag, but he picked a Star Wars movie to avoid raising suspicion.

“Are you sure?” Tony’s voice pulled Peter from his attempts to distract himself from his headache.

“Am I sure...about what?”

Tony eyed him suspiciously, and Peter tried to think of what he did that was out of the ordinary so he could reverse it.

“Are you sure you’re feeling okay?” Tony squinted his eyes.

“Of course.”

“Correction-“ his mentor rolled his eyes; “do you have any pain at all?”

Peter shook his head, still trying to figure out what his giveaway behavior was. “Why?”

Tony crossed his arms. “Because we watched this movie last night.”

Peter’s breath caught, and he reached for a lie. He shrugged. “I feel like you didn’t appreciate it enough the first time.” His mind replayed the evening before. “Aaand you fell asleep, so technically you can’t say you watched it last night.”

Tony’s mouth was still pressed in a thin line, revealing his doubts, but he just shook his head. “Okay,” he gave in, “but don’t make me regret this.”

Peter smiled, hoping the well-known noises from the familiar film would minimize his headache’s growth.

__________

Still in the process of waking up, he was glad the room was so nice and quiet. He knew he was still at the tower because it was always loud at his apartment. His headache was gone, and realizing he was in his room at the tower, he wondered with a start how he’d gotten back here from the living room; he figured he must’ve been pretty tired last night to have been so out of it.

He waits for the noises of the tower to reach him, but they don’t. He sits up quickly, somehow quietly. Too quietly. He looks down at the sheets, and runs his hands back and forth on them. He can’t hear them, and his eyes widen. He can see his chest is moving quicker with his increased breathing pace, but he can’t hear that either.

He brings his fingers to his ears and snaps.

Nothing. He tries again, watching his hand this time to make sure he snaps correctly, still nothing.

He feels true panic swell up in his chest, and jumps out of bed. He rushes to put a shirt and a pair of pants on, and the silence of his movements scares him; he feels like he’s watching a movie on mute, except he’s never not heard at least his own breathing. He opened the door, and paused; the silence of the hallway greeted him like a wave, rushing into his head with an overwhelming ringing he feels rather than hears.

It hurts.

On second thought, he closed the bedroom door again, shutting himself off from the hallway. It had to have been whatever chemical was on the suit. The suit which was now decontaminated and as clean as it had been new. How helpful would it be going to Mr. Stark without any information? Maybe if he could retrace his steps from yesterday, he could find out what the chemical was. He glanced at the clock, and saw it was 7:15. Tony wouldn’t be awake for several hours still, so Peter could get a head start until then. If all went well, Peter could even analyze the sample and neutralize it before Tony was up for his usual weekend 11 am breakfast.

__________

Peter made it to the spot he’d been sprayed by the bad-smelling stuff by 8 o’clock. He landed, slowly turning around to assess the area. It was a bright alleyway, lit from the morning sun’s reflection off a nearby skyscraper, but was still secluded and generally ignored by passerby’s due to it being a dead end street, blocked off by a wall of brick apartment.

He realized that he hadn’t said anything to Karen, who had no doubt been talking to him since he put the mask on; he wondered what she had been saying, and felt partly guilty for what was probably perceived as him ignoring her.

He didn’t want to tell her he couldn’t hear, however, for fear of some hidden protocol that would alert Tony, so he did his best to try to sound natural, a difficult task given that he couldn’t hear himself.

“Hey Karen,” he said, and paused. What did she normally say to him? Ask him how he was doing? How he slept? She would have for sure commented that she was glad to see him, but her usual trail of discussion had probably been derailed by the fact that he hadn’t acknowledged anything she’d said throughout the entire trip thus far.

“Sorry for ignoring you,” he said after giving her a chance to talk, “everything’s fine, I’m just trying to find something. Here. For Mr. Stark.”

He waited a beat, hoping he wasn’t cutting her off or waiting too long to respond, but honestly he had no idea.

“Could you help me find any synthetic chemicals on the walls or ground here? I’m looking for the stuff I got sprayed with yesterday.”

If she replied, he didn’t know, but he was glad to see diagnostics pull up as Karen began to highlight a plethora of invisible substances in the environment around him. With each one that pulled up, Karen did a quick calculation as to what it was.

He scanned his surroundings; urine, vomit, urine, blood, urine, some more urine, a few unidentifiable splotches, but he could tell from their location and position that they weren’t what he was looking for.

His shoulders slumped forwards, and he frowned.

He saw a shadow grow forward into the alleyway, and jumped around in a twist to see what was there. It was just a garbage truck, but the fact that it was now looming over him in the alleyway without him knowing it was even there still had his blood running cold. He jumped onto the wall and started climbing. Halfway up, Tony’s face appeared on his display. He realized it was an incoming call, and too late requested, “Karen don’t answer!” As the call connected through.

He couldn’t hear anything of course, and knowing Tony was currently talking to him made his breath quicken. Also the fact that it wasn’t even 9 am, which was early — and therefore abnormal, for Tony.

“Hi Mr. Stark,” he greeted as happily as he could. “I’m, uh, climbing up this wall at the moment, can I, uh, can I call you back later?”

He hoped Mr. Stark said yes, and he wished he’d have video called so Peter could see his expression and attempt to read his lips, but he couldn’t. Instead he quickly exhaled “Karen, hang up,” and watched as the call disconnected. He climbed onto the roof, and hoped that Karen’s compliance to hang up meant that Tony hadn’t said anything too important. Besides, Peter should probably head back to the tower anyways to start figuring out what was wrong.

Now that he was on the roof, however, he was met with another wave of panic as the view of the skyline met him. He looked at the silent scene of a busy New York City morning, down the streets where he knew cars were still honking, people were talking, phones were ringing, and kids were yelling while they played on their weekend, a morning free from school. He knew it was going on, and he was missing it. Sure, this was every day for a lot of people, but he was Spider-Man. His job required his ears.

As if to prove his point, his spider sense flared up, and he fell to the ground. He looked around, not knowing why or where it had come from, but he didn’t see anything. Was he even the one in danger, or was it alerting him that someone else needed his help? After nothing happened for another moment, he ran to the side of the building and looked down. The scene he saw was normal, people walking, cars driving, even the alleyway he had come from was clear. His spider sense was still pulsing though, so he ran to the next side of the rooftop, frantically looking towards the street.

His eyes immediately found the scene, a car crash. It had just happened, and he wondered if he’d have been able to prevent it if he’d been able to hear. He didn’t know if they’d crashed before or after he’d felt the warning, although experience told him it was the latter. He swung down to the scene, and saw the driver open their door and fall out of the car. He ran up to her, seeing the passenger seat was empty, and helped her to her feet.

“Are you alright ma’am?” He asked, and not seeing any blood on her or problem with standing on her own, he thought so. Except her expression was still extremely worried, and she was talking, yelling maybe, but Peter couldn’t tell what she was saying. She then stumbled forward. Peter caught her, confused as to what she was going on for. She had just been in a motor vehicle accident, after all, so maybe a bit of odd behavior could be expected? He wished he could hear her to be sure.

She pointed back to the car. He looked, but didn’t see anything in the seats, besides boxes that had fallen in the back; other people were approaching the car now, too, trying to open the crushed back door. His spider sense was still calling, and he wondered what was in the back that could be dangerous. What everyone but him currently knew of. He turned back to face the woman, but she just grabbed his arm with a grip that told him that Something was Not OK and brought him around to the back, tears on her face now. The driver of the other vehicle ran up to them, saying something, before turning and walking anxiously with them. Confused, Peter cautiously followed them to the car, pushing past other people.

He suddenly saw behind the boxes in the back seat that there was a baby car seat, spider-sense screaming, and he was pretty sure he cursed out loud. He darted past the woman, pushed past the small, struggling crowd, and tugged the jammed car door, ripping if half off its hinges. He pushed the boxes out of the way to get to the baby. He tore the seatbelt in half to let the car seat loose, and handed the entire seat to the woman.

He glanced at the baby, happy and relieved to see her alive— crying but unharmed, and he let out a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding. The mother unbuckled her, smiling now, and seeing that the scene was okay to go on without him, Peter left.

He swung away, away to a rooftop surrounded by nothing but open sky, and crumpled to the ground.

His spider-sense didn’t stop. He didn’t feel safe anymore. His chest tightened, and he felt like his airway was closing. He closed his eyes tightly and focused on breathing in, slowly, breathing out, slowly. Repeating it. His fingers dug into the rough artificial ground.

Someone could be screaming right next to him, and he wouldn’t even know it.

He could see something flashing even through his closed eyelids, and opened his eyes to see this at his display had changed.

Next to a transparent box showing his elevated vital signs, Mr. Stark’s concerned face was on the screen. He said something, but Peter shook his head.

“I can’t hear you, Mr. Stark,” he said, hoping his voice was louder than a whisper, “I can’t hear you.”

Tony frowned, typing something on his screen and saying something else Peter hoped wasn’t supposed to be directed at him, and at once a new message popped up on the screen, all systems online and functioning correctly.

Peter just shook his head again. “I’ll be right there,” he said, “I’m heading back to the tower now. Please meet me there, please.” And he hung up before Tony could try to tell him something again.

He had to take four breaks on his short trip back to the tower, just to breathe. He felt like he was dying, but he hadn’t been hit by anything, so he couldn’t be. It painfully reminded him of an asthma attack like those he used to have pre-powers.

But, unlike those past times when he wouldn’t have even been able to stand, every time he caught his breath even just enough to stand up again, he forced himself to keep going. He was so afraid to see someone get hurt, or worse, without him being there to prevent it from happening. His never relenting spider-sense made him feel like people were getting hurt around him; it made him feel blind, like he couldn’t see things he knew were there.

It wasn’t even 10 am when he arrived back at the tower, but Peter fell into the tower window, gasping. He saw Mr. Stark stand up in surprise at Peter on the floor, before rushing over to him. Peter pushed himself up so he was sitting, and ripped off his mask. He felt the tears on his face and didn’t know how long he’d been crying for. He just wished he could hear the voice of his mentor as he stopped in front of him.

Peter reached forward and grabbed his shirt, seeing that the man was trying to talk to him.

Peter cried, “I can’t hear, Mr. Stark; I can’t hear you.”

Mr. Stark pulled him to his feet, touching Peter’s chin so that Peter could see his face, and tried to say something else. Peter shook his head. “I can’t hear you,” he repeated, “I can’t— I can’t hear anything.”

Mr. Stark pulled Peter into a hug, where they stayed until Peter could feel his heart rate slow and his breathing calm down. He pulled away to wipe his eyes. Mr. Stark gently took his arm and led him into the lab, where he handed Peter a metal device shaped like a pencil. He pressed a button and a nearly (but not quite) opaque holographic blank screen popped up in Peter’s face out of the long side of the not-pencil, making a sort of hand-held paper in Peter’s hand.

Suddenly the words, “can you understand me now?” Typed into the screen, and Peter looked up. Tony said something else, and the words, “it usually works pretty well, just let me know if something doesn’t make sense” appeared. Peter raised a confused and interested eyebrow.

“This is neat,” he said curiously. “Why do you have this?”

Tony shrugged, and started speaking. Then, “It’s not the first time I’ve had deaf friends hanging out in the tower, you know.” Peter didn’t know that, but didn’t ask further. Whoever it was had his respect, though.

“So do you have any clues?” Tony’s question popped up on the holographic tablet.

Peter shrugged. “Pretty sure it was whatever I got sprayed with last night.”

“Makes sense. You were pretty out of it yesterday you slept through most of the movie and didn’t even wake up when I carried you to bed.” Peter scrunched his eyebrows at the image.

Tony went on. “When did it kick in?”

Peter cocked his head to the side; “what do you mean?”

“What time did your hearing go away this morning?”

Peter shrugged. “Sometime last night.”

He looked at the screen, then at Tony when nothing appeared. Tony was staring at him with an expression Peter had seen before, usually when he’d done something wrong.

Tony spoke, and Peter was for once glad he had good reason to look away to understand him.

“So. You woke up. Your first morning missing a pretty important sense. And decided to go out as the crime-fighting, life-saving, danger-seeking Spider-Man?”

Peter didn’t know if the punctuation on the screen was intentional, but it helped give him an idea of how Tony sounded.

“Ummm, not exactly,” he replied, keeping his eyes on the screen; it was weird talking and not hearing your own voice, and Peter partially wondered if he was talking too loud. “I went to see if I could find a sample of whatever was in the, uh, the spray.”

Tony turned to the table beside him and pushed a button. Silent videos from social media popped up of Spider-Man helping a woman to her feet, then pulling a baby from a crushed car. He had to admit that even without sound, he looked a little lost.

He glanced back at Tony, he was now looking at him skeptically.

Peter shrugged. “I got distracted.”

Tony rolled his eyes, but Peter could see a hint of a smile on his face. He thought he was going to say something but instead he walked around the table to where Peter normally sat, grabbed a paper towel, then reached under the table and grabbed a yellow cube from the trash can.

Not a cube. The sponge from last night, that Peter had used to try and scrub the suit clean. Tony held it up expectantly.

A sample.

“Oh.”

Movement on the tablet caught his attention. “Oh indeed,” Tony said.

____________

They had the chemical’s composition within the hour. They had the antidote by lunch. They were waiting for FRIDAY to make the dose needed, when Peter saw Tony laugh.

“What?” Peter hadn’t said anything, and he looked around to find out what he was laughing at.

Tony’s words appeared, “I think it’s time for lunch. Friday tell us when the dose is ready.”

He laughed again. The words, “sure thing boss” followed on the screen.

Peter frowned. “Why is that funny?”

Tony smiled. “Because your stomach growling is more reliable than my alarm clock.”

Peter rolled his eyes, glancing down at his abdomen. “Traitor,” he jokingly accused.

____________

FRIDAY had the dose ready sooner than expected, so Peter brought the rest of his PB&J down to the lab with him.

He’d forgotten the talk-to-text tablet upstairs, so he didn’t hear anything Tony said and hoped there weren’t any urgent special instructions when Tony handed him a glass of blueish liquid.

Peter raised an eyebrow. “I just drink it?” Tony nodded and opened a can of sprite, leaning it forward for a toast. Peter tapped the cups, and they both drank. Peter made a scrunched face at the nasty taste after emptying the glass, closing his eyes as he coughed.

“So I’m guessing it wasn’t blue raspberry flavored?” Tony asked.

Peter shook his head and coughed, but froze when he realized he’d heard the question. He opened his eyes to see Tony smiling in front of him.

“We did it Mr. Stark!” Peter exclaimed, his voice sounding wayy too loud in his head.

“We did it,” Tony replied, and Peter visibly flinched.

“Everything’s so loud,” he said quietly.

Tony’s smile faded a little. “Hm.” He spoke softly, “whatchya say we stay in for the rest of the day and watch movies with the sound turned way down low?”

Peter grinned, “I’d love that, but then you won’t be able to hear it!”

Tony put his fists on his hips in mock anger, “are you saying I’m old?”

Peter laughed. “Maybe in spider years.”

Tony rolled his eyes and smiled. “That’s what I thought. Now, what’re we watching? And please don’t make me watch that same movie for the third time in a row. There’s only a certain number of times I can listen to the jar jar lizard, and we’ve already exceeded that.”

“Okay. So how about that old movie Predator?”

“Okay, now you are calling me old.”

“Of course, now that I can hear your reaction.”

 

____________

30 minutes, 2 buckets of popcorn, and 1 pizza later, the duo finds themselves back upstairs on the couch, working on pulling up Predator with subtitles for Tony.

“So,” Tony began, “going back to that topic of reactions. How about I add this: don’t go out when you’re injured, as if that’s a new rule. Or impaired in some way. And if something like this happens again, come to me first. Please.”

Peter smirked. “Of course.”

“Nuh-uh, I need a stronger promise than that, bud. I don’t feel reassured at all.”

Peter sobered up, then. “Okay,” he said, “I will. Seriously. I was so scared.”

“Me too, Kid. Me too.”

“I thought I’d never hear you again. Or anything.”

“Aw, you’d miss hearing me?”

Peter rolled his eyes. “Just the good stuff.”

“Like how much I care about you? And how great you are? And I’m so glad you’re my kid?”

Peter’s eyebrows shot up before he could stop them. He quickly turned it into a frown as if contemplating something. “Nah, I was thinking more about the times when you’re like, ‘do you want food?’ Or, ‘here’s some pizza,’ is a good one, too.”

Tony narrowed his eyes at Peter, who grinned. “But that other stuff you were saying is nice, too,” Peter added, feeling a blush rise in his cheeks.

“I’m glad you think so,” Tony replied, “because I mean it.”

“Oh,” Peter responded.

“Oh indeed,” Tony replied with a smile Peter could hear in his voice.

The movie started, and Peter rested his head into Tony’s side.

“I care about you too, Mr. Stark,” Peter said quietly. He knew Tony could easily hear over the movie’s volume. “And I’m really glad you’re here for me and that you’re my, uh, my mentor. Well, and like a father figure person, too.”

Tony wrapped his arm around Peter.

“Glad to hear it, Peter. You make a really great kid, you know. And I’ll always be here for you.”

”Thanks, Tony. And you make a really great dad.”

______________

______________

[waitingfortheendtocome]

Forced to Let Go CH 1

I wrote this a while a go and posted it on my AO3 account. I was meaning to post it here but I kept putting it off until I completely forgot about it lol. This is a Jemily(JJ/Emily) three chapter Fic. It was meaning to be a one-shot but It grew too long so I split it into three parts. I was listening to Easier to Run and My December by Linkin Park, as well as Britney’s song called Everytime which where the songs that inspired this fic so I was listening to those songs while writing them.

Gif’s I use aren’t mine credit goes to the creator I don’t know who made it I borrowed it off the gif sets tumblr gives you. 

Warning: angst, angst, angst and more angst. Heartbreak, self-doubt, loneliness

Chapter One

******************************************************************

Emily’s Apartment

Emily walked numbly into her apartment early in the evening. She had just got back from working the local case which happens to be a bank robbery case. She didn’t exactly enjoy the case but it made her realize just how badly she needed to get away. Besides the bank exploding near her, trying to solve the difficult case and saving the victims, she had to save none other than Will which to her felt like an insult to injury. Things with JJ haven’t exactly been all that great and perhaps that was her fault but she could hardly be blamed. Her and JJ were the best of friends technically they were past being best of friends at this point they were lovers.

JJ had been the first person who welcomed her into the team, the first person who treated her like an equal and made her feel welcoming. Emily fell for her the moment she laid eyes on her, Emily knew she was screwed the moment JJ smiled brightly at her and shook her hand. Maybe all along Emily read too much into it but the small smiles and the light blushes the lingering touches that accompanied them when they started getting closer and becoming best friends. Emily and JJ hung out often but what caused Emily to confirm her feelings was after they shared a room for the first time and began having intimate conversations Emily was casual when JJ mentioned dating other women and told the younger woman that she dated and been with women since is her preference. Emily had studied the thoughtful look JJ carried but it wasn’t brought up again at least not until months later where it was followed by a kiss.

Emily should have tried harder to resist but she couldn’t help it by that time Emily knew she was in love but knew she would never come forward first and express her feelings first. For one she hadn’t wanted to get hurt and two she didn’t know how JJ felt for her whether it was her experimenting or her actually having feelings for her and wanting more. Safe to say she now knows exactly what JJ feels for her as well what this whole seven plus years were to the woman she considers a best friend. Nothing more than an experimentation, something to get her curiosity out of her system. Emily felt her heart shatter at the idea that to JJ all this time it wasn’t anything more than an experiment.

Emily walked into her kitchen shaking the thought out of her head and grabbed her bottle of wine, a wine glass and sat in her living room filling her cup not even bothering to turn the lights on. What was the point? The darkness around her for once it felt welcoming and it fit her depressing mood. Her heartbreak, betrayal and loneliness. The feelings once alienating to her she now welcomed it like a second skin, this no longer felt like home to her.

“Maybe I really am meant to be alone.” Emily grumbled to herself as she filled her glass

But her thought wandered again as she took her first large gulp of wine back to the blonde and Emily hated herself for even thinking about her but she couldn’t help it. Emily was in love with the blonde despite the heartbreak she was currently nursing. After that one kiss JJ and Emily ended up having sex casually at first but it became frequent especially when they shared a room or JJ stayed over. Emily’s hopes started to grow the more they hung out together believing things might lead to more but it never did so Emily waited patiently which slowly became hopeless when they went to New Orleans and saw JJ spend a little too much time with that detective Will which lo and behold the two ended up secretly dating so Emily ended her whatever it was with JJ which became hopeless when the blonde showed up in Emily’s old apartment questioning why she was distant.

Emily got confused until JJ pointed out why they weren’t hanging out like they use to until Emily felt offended letting JJ know that they can’t have sex because she is with Will. JJ obviously got offended and stated nothing was serious to say Emily ended up having angry sex was understatement if JJ’s loud reactions was anything to go by but much to her own frustration neither bothered to stop their casual sex. Even after Doyle came back when they were in Paris the two were going at it but now that Doyle was dead and things were going back to normal Emily just couldn’t do it. She felt broken, confined in her own skin and felt alone. She just didn’t feel the same anymore so two weeks ago she ended up confronting JJ about it. Emily couldn’t handle being someone else's dirty little secret. Being someone else's secret fling. A second choice. Even if that person was JJ who she loved.

Emily loved JJ. She fell in love with her, her bright personality, compassion, kindness, her beautiful smile to match all her beauty. JJ was Emily’s light. Emily’s anger. Even then Emily couldn’t be second best to Will so she had confronted JJ about it. That led to a heavy discussion and JJ’s last words before Emily promptly left JJ’s hotel room during the Oregon satanic ritual case broke and shattered Emily into millions of pieces. Not only that but it only proved that the blonde didn’t feel the same way despite JJ’s countless reminders but Emily just didn’t feel it.

**********************************************************************

Flashback

Oregon-JJ’s Hotel room

Emily tried to hold back her tears as she looked away from JJ and out the window as a form of distraction. She knew if she looked at JJ she'd break down. She wondered why she even bothered coming to the hotel room to bring up what they were or even ask if they could be more. She assumed JJ felt the same way. They have been secretly having sex for years now so she just assumed the feelings were mutual. Emily herself tried several times to stop it due to JJ and Will but the blonde didn’t seem to think so saying that it was okay as long as no one found out which made Emily slightly uncomfortable but ignored it. She had been content with at least having JJ in some form so they continued. Emily got the courage to talk to JJ about it, to ask her what they were and if they can be something more. Although Emily wasn’t outright with the last request knowing it was a bad idea so instead she hinted it in a way that can be brushed off quickly.

To say it was a mistake was an understatement because they began to talk about their feelings and JJ reassuring Emily how much she loved her but and wanted to be with her but couldn’t according to JJ she couldn’t hurt Will or do that to him which baffled Emily due to the fact that she technically was going behind his back but Emily didn’t voice it instead she looked away. Granted when Emily began to see how close JJ and Will were becoming due to Emily’s request she had insisted on them not sleeping as often the only times they did was when they were overwhelmed from a case or spontaneous but spread out in actuality Paris was the last time they were in bed together. JJ tried a few times but Emily refused now glad she put her foot down because here she was standing in the blondes hotel room getting her heart broken on top of everything else she is going through right now.

“Emily please say something.” JJ asked her voice cracking trying to contain her own emotions heartbroken over having hurt her best friend

“I’m not asking you to leave him, he is your safety net, comfort. What you’re expected to marry and spend all your life with. I would never ask you to leave him.  I just needed to know if I had a shot. A chance. If you would have given us a chance but I know what sacrifices that made JJ I’ve been out for most of my life now remember,” Emily told her shaking her head feeling hurt and betrayed, “Those times JJ, the intimacy I will always cherish them. You know I love you dearly Jayje, but at the end of the day after we have sex I look beside me to find the side of the bed meant to be yours cold and empty. I wished to have you wake up beside me every morning, wrap my arms around you and hold you while you fix yourself coffee in the morning and I whisper I love you. Take you out on dates, show you the world because you deserve that and more. All this sneaking around I realize now I can’t anymore. I can’t do it anymore. Especially not after everything that has happen.” Emily turned away from JJ barely able to contain her own tears.

JJ's eyes become glassy from the unshed tears, “I’m sorry Emily. I love you. I truly love you and wished to be with you but I can't. I don’t want to hurt Will and I can’t make that kind of commitment. I’m so sorry Emily.” JJ whispered between sobs

Emily shook her head with a sigh and walked away with an indifferent shrug but paused to squeeze JJ’s shoulder as a form of letting her know that they aren’t any hard feelings despite her shattered heart.

“It’s fine JJ I wasn’t expecting you to and I knew what your answer would be but I can’t continue sleeping with you either. It isn’t fair for me or Will. I care about you Jayje and don’t worry this wont fuck up us working together or our friendship just pretend we didn’t have this conversation is for the best.” Emily told her as she opened the door and walked away.

**********************************************************************

Emily’s Apartment

Emily shook the memory away and got up from her chair and walked to the bedroom putting down the now half empty bottle of wine and dropped on her bed curling into a ball and sobbed uncontrollably no longer able to contain her heartbreak anymore. What was the point after years of giving someone all your love and them not even bothering to give it back. Emily remembered all the touches, kisses, caresses and whispers of affections they’ve shared. Waking up beside each other in their shared hotel rooms the rare times they get to share a hotel feeling content and happy to wake up beside the woman she loved than realizing those are the only times they wake up together and her heart would ache at all over again. Emily wondered if Doyle was right all along. His whispering words hunting her whispering how she’ll never have the woman she loves and will end up alone with no one. Emily's body shook remembering the painful stab wound and equally painful branding mark that she still had on her. She was going to get the blackbird tattoo but now just the thought brought out more heartache. She’s going to get it but will have to wait until she wasn’t hurting which was worse she hated the brand mark.

What made it worse was fate slapping her in the face by forcing her to save Will. At the end of the day she ended up saving him for JJ’s and Henry’s sake not even for Will’s sake since Emily never found him interesting and found him slightly boring but she didn’t know what JJ saw in him. Saving him was Emily’s tipping point. Emily’s breaking point was what led her into drinking half a bottle of wine was the text she received from Garcia letting her know what Will proposed to JJ and she said yes. Emily knew that was an impulsive request for marriage and knew it was JJ who requested it and that hurt the most especially when Emily knew JJ never wanted to marry him. Emily secretly knows she pushed JJ to him and hates herself with passion for it. She couldn’t do it. She couldn’t be here and see them together anymore. What's worse in two days they are going to say ‘ I do' . Two days if that didn’t scream rushed wedding before she changed her mind then Emily wasn’t sure what did.

Emily laid in her bed for what seemed like hours, her bedroom as dark as the rest of her apartment sobbing every time she thought she was getting it under control another fresh wave of tears fell and another heavy sob broke out of her causing her to sob even harder. Until her body tired itself out and she ended up crying herself to sleep. A few lone tears flowing out of her eyes even when she slept, her shoulders tense and body curled up as if attempting to protect herself from her own heartache.

*********************************************************

Next Morning

Emily stirred awake not sure how long she was asleep let along. She sat up feeling a headache but didn’t care. Emily woke up worse than when she was the night before. Memories of the night before coming back to her quickly, the case, Emily’s call from Clyde, the discussion she had with JJ weeks before, Emily distancing herself somewhat from the blonde. She still went to team gatherings and the girls nights but she no longer let JJ sleep over nor did she linger back when they were parting ways. Now any time Garcia calls to go home Emily leaves with her or quickly after but now Emily realized she couldn’t do it anymore. Emily felt broken she couldn’t have this life back. Doyle took her life from her, taking it back like nothing and going back like nothing happened made her realize that he destroyed that for her. Emily realized now that the only thing that kept her here was also taken from her and she no longer had a chance with.

JJ was the only thing that kept her here. The hope that they can be together but now that is gone too. Emily stuck around hoping that she still had a chance to be with JJ especially after the conversation they had in Paris where JJ promised they’ll meet again and even hinted at them being official and her giving Emily a chance. Emily grabbed her phone and texted Clyde letting him know she accepted the offer and will fly to London the following evening. Now all Emily had to do is take today is back her suitcases book a flight. She didn’t have to worry about the furniture since she could pay the landlord to get rid of it.

Emily didn’t think she just pulled out all her suitcases and began the slow process of packing her bags.

“Come on Emily…. Don’t think about it just pack and leave don’t look back.” Emily told herself

[randomstarmuffin]

My @runefactorysecretsanta​ gift for ya_boi_nye is finally done!! Hope I did your favorite characters justice!! :)

Happy holidays!!!! I don’t want to take up too much room so I’m going to throw some rambling and extras under the cut lol

So I don’t think nye has a tumblr, but on their twitter i saw that they were into VTube and youtaite and i wanted to incorporate that in their gift somehow. Unfortunately.... the characters are kind of all already anime??? So drawing-wise, i figured it would be more fun to go with a more general YouTuber AU so I could put in some variety rather than just stills of singing or badly rendered 3D models (by which i am throwing shade on myself alone, VTube rigs are sick but i regrettably have no 3D skills lol)

I’ve actually,,, never played Frontier at all, so I apologize if anyone is wildly out of character!! The wiki is extremely sparse and I didn’t have time to watch too too much of the let’s play i found, so if they’re not right just chalk it up to the YouTuber ~performance~ aspect of this AU lmao.

Even though I’ve never played before and don’t know the characters Super well though, I still had a lot of fun thinking about this AU! If you want to know the specifics of everyone’s content:

Anette does parkour (fun facts, this particular move i drew is called a speed vault!) and a little bit of vlogging, and she’s friends with Erik (as in canon, if I did my research correctly lmao). She sometimes appears on his channel and vice versa, and he helps her film and edit and stuff sometimes. She lives and works with Mist and Rosetta and helps out with their online boutique. Mist is the idea woman who comes up with crazy stuff, Rosetta is the realist and bookkeeper who pulls those ideas together into something feasible and profitable, and Anette handles all the packaging and shipments and stuff! There’s always something weird going on in their apartment and everyone ends up there a lot, so some of Anette’s vlogs get really popular just because of how out there they are lmao. Oh, almost forgot, but her channel is “DeliveryIsFreestyle” bc... get it... free delivery... freestyle parkour / freerunning... Lol actually it was almost going to be “RunTheMail” because i couldn’t think of anything at first so i think this was the right move in the end :P

Erik has a gaming channel where he mostly plays farming and dating sims / otome, and we don’t read too far into whether or not RF exists in this universe for him to play even though I put the posters for frontier on his wall xD. The reason I picked Stardew for this thumbnail specifically is because A) I have it and could easily take screenshots and B) i read that he has a crush on Lara? And she’s like, kind of a nurse? And Maru is kind of a nurse? It’s a silly joke but I thought it would be funny to cockblock him from dating a nurse he has his eyes on even in video gaming with his friends lol. His channel is pretty self-explanatory (I was really hoping his farm would have a fun name when i was looking it up but it’s really just “Erik’s Farm” huh? ...but I probably shouldn’t judge, my dnd character’s wolf is named Wolf xD)

Lute paints!! I think he does a lot of speedpaints and mostly does traditional art, but I think he would have some digital skills hidden up his sleeve as well. And also I don’t know why at all bc I know the least about him out of all 4 of them, but I feel like he has done / does some of those like “how to draw anime” videos because I just think that’s funny. He has a bunch of really popular ones about overly complicated fantasy outfits. No this is not a callout for any series in particular why do you ask? Anyway, I’m not sure exactly how the line goes because I couldn’t find it, but the wiki mentions that he’ll say he’s not doing anything suspicious when he’s painting at the lake, so i thought it would be funny if there’s some kind of running gag with his subscribers where they point out suspicious things he does and he responds in the next video or whatever. The thumbnail I made definitely does just have a screenshot of rff that’s color-corrected and blurred, because I ran out of time but also wanted to differentiate the bg from the canvas ^^;  His channel was originally just “lute” in all lowercase but then i got to the part of the let’s play where he was introduced and he calls himself a “fledgling painter” so i thought this was more fun.

And Eunice has a cooking channel!! She specializes in baking, but she also has a whole playlist along the lines of “Nutritious Food Can Still Taste Good!” where she talks about healthy eating habits but doesn’t buy into diet culture bc I personally HATE diet culture lmao. I think when that gets popular, she also maybe does a side thing about easily accessible workouts for all sorts of people who want to get into shape? But with a focus on getting stronger / being active and Not a focus on Losing Weight necessarily. Promoter of healthy and happy living! I know how her events / dialogue can go in the game, i just happen to have Opinions About Things, so, that’s how she is in my version. Also, unrelated, but she’s very cute. Even though her braids were a bitch to draw hahaha. And i did end up drawing her just in her actual outfit even though i gave everyone else different clothes bc idk it just felt like it fit the aesthetic of a cooking vlog well?? And it’s not a super complicated one unlike others i could mention. Her channel is “Charming Sweets” and her cooking series is “My Cooking” because those are the titles of the books she has on her bookshelf at the start of the game :)

But that’s just all of *my* headcanons for the AU! If anyone else who knows them all better has their own ideas, please be my guest and imagine it however you like!!

Oh, also, fun facts, this is partially a screenshot of my actual web browser, lol, so if y’all want to know what all I have saved on my bookmarks bar and what my google profile pic is, now you know. However, i would like to not downplay how long i spent editing this in what was possibly the least efficient way to put it together how i wanted, rip, which is entirely the reason i am posting this so late LOL. Apologies for the delay, but technically it’s still the 27th here, so! Victory!

(speaking of the layout, did anyone catch the url? I’m disproportionately proud of the url. though i won’t lie part of me really wanted to put the rick roll url there just for my own amusement hahaha)

And, yeah! That’s the end of my spiel. Happy end-of-2020 to all, and an extra helping of that sentiment to nye!!!

[aelaer]

Re: Blood in Your Veins

Hey so uh.

As anyone who’s been following me for a while knows, I started the serial “The Blood In Your Veins” about this time last year (it used to be ‘my veins’ but retitled it on its move to AO3 because execution of prompt had changed a bit over writing). It’s a prompt that I couldn’t stop thinking about and just dabbled in slowly to see where it went. Then 2020 fully hit and my writing came to almost a complete stop until about October, which is when I began again on Illuminating the Shadows, which was finished and posted in December.

Anyway, I’ve been poking and prodding fairly continuously at The Blood in Your Veins. The first four parts that I posted originally here on tumblr are now all on AO3, and once part 5′s up I’ll link it here and link everyone who wanted alerts to the updates then so they can see the new part. Then all future parts will be linked here as well.

(Cut because why the *hell* did I write this much about this?)

I’ve been slow in posting because I, against better judgement but why not, decided to post it as a WIP. But that means I keep on making edits to older parts because I think of something new that should be addressed earlier in the story. Like uh, when I was writing part 9, I realized I needed to go back to part 5 and add an addendum. When I was writing part 12, I realized I totally forgot a part that I ended up adding in part 8, because I needed it for a future connection. This happens all the time in my writing and makes posting WIPs almost dangerous because my thinking is rarely linear if the story takes place over a course of more than a couple days. Thus the very slow posting.

So this silly little prompt thing that I was just prodding and poking at to see where it went? The farking doc passed 50k words tonight. Yup.

Granted, like 10k of that is probably outlining, personal notes, and A/Ns filled to the brim with meta, medical science, fake science, and technical/computer engineering because I love talking about it and giving people info to access easily for their own knowledge. I figure I can’t be the only one who finds this stuff super fascinating and fanfic makes it unique in that it’s not a book where the research is irrelevant, you can show off all the interesting stuff right here and talk about it with people! I love that about fanfic, so much. Sometimes the A/Ns are just as interesting as the story in some stories.

So it’s gonna be a bit slow for however long, but I finished 11 parts (with 10 betaed), have the 12th largely written out (though I’m not 100% sure about it yet so I want to poke at it more), and parts uh, 13 to 17ish outlined. But considering I was like “yeah this is 8 parts at most” like, at the beginning of this, that number is bound to change because characters keep saying things and doing things (including the supporting OCs, who are demanding to be fully fleshed out within the bounds of supporting character roles).

And yeah, this is just a ramble of what I’ve been mostly doing as I haven’t been super active on tumblr this month as this has consumed most of my free time. I haven’t read a lot of works either, and once this is completed I hope to remedy that, before I go into my next two big projects (which were meant to be what I was working on *now*, but then this took over and what will you do. I’m not sure if I’ll be able to complete three novel-length fics in the course of the year, but I’ll see what I can do. I really want to tell these stories).

Uh, this was really long. Sorry, I’m super verbose and don’t know how to be like, succinct. My old boss, two bosses ago now, used to quote Twain about brevity being a sign of wit, but if it is, call me 100% unwitty because I like to ramble. And then I always feel a little bit guilty for writing *so much* about my bullshit, so I feel like if you read this far, you 100% deserve to read a preview of an upcoming section. Especially since you pressed the Read More button! So here you go, thanks for reading my rambles. This is a section from the longest part so far, part 8. It’s a long little bit!

---

"How high's the toxicity now?" Tony asked as he stepped off the scale.

"Yesterday's blood sample came back at 0.45 milligrams per kilogram of your weight," Stephen replied. He snapped on a pair of latex gloves.

Tony offered his arm for the blood draw. "And if 3 milligrams is the magic number for fatality, that'd put my current blood toxicity at 15%."

Stephen inserted the needle at the crook of Tony's elbow and watched the tube fill up. "That's not quite how it works."

"It makes sense to me."

"That's still not how it works." He removed the needle and capped the tube, and as he put everything away, explained, "Saying that your blood toxicity is at 15% implies that you're talking about the whole volume of blood in your body. You're probably at about 5,500 milliliters with your weight, and with the density of blood equaling about 1.06 grams per milliliter, it is like you're saying—"

"That 874.5 grams of my blood is toxic, yeah, yeah, I know," Tony interrupted. By now he was setting up the table for their breakfast.

"I was getting there."

"You were going too slow," he shot back easily. Stephen gave the engineer a look at the comment, but Tony ignored it. "Yeah, I know it's not my whole body's blood volume. Obviously. But putting a percentage on how long until I reach the point that I'm dead makes sense to me. I'm not measuring the whole volume of my blood, I'm measuring how much more can I handle until I'm dead."

Stephen shot him a frown. "It doesn't make sense to call it 'blood toxicity' then."

"Maybe not to you, but it does to me. And I'd design such a measuring tool for me."

The statement caught him off guard. "Design?" He finished packing up the kit and joined Tony at the table.

"Well, if I wasn't stuck in here, I'd design something to automatically read a blood sample, like how glucose meters read blood sugar levels. Wouldn't be hard to engineer something like that. And I'd have it give me the amount of toxicity as a percentage relating to how far along it was until the amount was lethal. Sure, I could memorize the numbers, but the percentage would be more concrete in my head."

Stephen smeared butter over a piece of bread as he listened. He shook his head at the end of Tony's explanation. "Wouldn't work for the consumer market; there's too much room for interpretation as to what the percentage means."

Tony huffed. "Well, like I said, it'd be for me. Not the consumer market."

His brow furrowed. "You're telling me that you can make a blood test as simple as the one used for testing blood sugar levels for something as rare as palladium poisoning?"

He narrowed his eyes. "... yes…"

"You can make it portable like the glucose meters?"

"Yeah, of course."

"And affordable to most hospitals?"

Tony looked up in thought. "I don't usually factor in the costs of materials and manufacturing in personal projects, and others do the number crunching to see if my ideas are viable for production in company projects. If they aren't, but I really want them to be, I'll tinker a bit more, sure."

Stephen couldn't believe what he was hearing. "Do you realize the amount of money you could save for both hospitals and patients across the country with such technology? Specialized blood tests—like for many metal poisonings, for instance—aren't offered at every hospital. It may not be available even in every state. Those types of lab results can take weeks to get back to a doctor and the patient. And you're saying that you can not only potentially create this type of technology, but that you may be able to make it affordable if you really want them to be?"

"Well yeah, sure. I've done it a few times with other things. I could probably do that with a blood meter thing. I doubt the tech's that complicated."

His mouth was partially hanging open, Stephen realized this, but he couldn't bother at the moment. He was flabbergasted. The first thought that came to mind went to his mouth, unfiltered. "And you spent the last two decades building weapons."

"Don't." The word was sharp and filled with an overabundance of emotion.

Stephen fell silent. He crossed a boundary he had yet to see before now, and he was not so callous as to push against it. Instead he turned to his meal and focused on eating. He avoided looking at the other man.

A couple minutes later, Tony spoke again. It was low, pensive. Thoughtful. "There was a good reason I shut down weapons manufacturing after I got back from Afghanistan, you know. If the department ever comes back, it will be with major restrictions and modifications. Likely more defensive than offensive. More shields, less missiles. But in the meantime I've been restructuring. Expanded in commercial aerospace and industry. We entered the energy market properly. Consumer products is coming soon—end of the year, probably." A pause. "Don't see why we can't look into medical tech, either. Certainly wouldn't hurt to try."

He could only nod and say, "It certainly wouldn't."

[trunkzbriefs]

Any Son and/or Briefs family headcanons? Spicy hot takes? Truths Toriyama and Toyotaro themselves can not handle? Straight up lies?

GODDAMN SORRY this took a while cause i suck at putting thoughts together. i apologize for my obvious briefs bias i have more hcs for them than the son family despite loving them both :pensive: anyway heres some random stuff

briefs hcs:

all of the briefs are pros at non-verbal communication. i hc that saiyans have their own language (and also in my own Mind Canon they still have their fuckin tails) and a lot of it is done through tail movement/body posture/grunts/etc. etc so theyve all sort of picked that up. even bulma, who doesnt have a tail, is pretty good at getting across what she means without actually speaking. they still do speak normally but it comes in handy sometimes considering that both trunks and vegeta are prone to running out of speaking energy or getting very frustrated with words, so having another way to communicate works very well for them

vegeta is fffffffffffffffffffurry. without getting too deep into my own General Saiyan hcs (thats why i made a whole ass four subspecies!!) i think that the entirety of planet vegeta tended to be very hot aside from the part where the castle was, where the temperature would drop. meaning that saiyans working in the palace would grow thicker fur around certain parts of their body, and in the royal saiyans theyd be Especially fluffy. he kept it down on earth, but he has thick patches of fur around the bottom parts of his arms and legs. kind of like snowy boots and gloves! he also has fur that grows in on his neck like a lions mane.

future trunks is an actions sponge, vegeta is a words sponge. vegeta will pick up words VERY quickly regardless if he fully understands the meaning of it or not (completely inspired by 'THATS RIGHT BOYS... MONDO COOL' in z) and future trunks will unintentionally mimic the actions of people - around people he looks up to he might take a few small mannerisms from but this extends to copying the disposition of anyone; he's just very adaptive. this is the most obvious (and funniest) when he's around vegeta bc it really shows like. yeah damn that sure is vegeta's son

vegeta & bulla have an intimidating bastard smirk naturally. their natural smiles are pretty frightening and they have to put effort into a 'normal' one. this also extends to current trunks, his default smile is the Vegeta Bastard Smirk but he learned to have a normal smile quicker than his father and sister. future trunks has a slightly unnerving natural smile (the fact that his pupils are always drawn so fucking small makes me hc that he just has a very intimidating look of 'cat thats about to pounce on an unfortunate trapped mouse' whenever he smiles) but he learned to look normal even quicker than current trunks since he's around humans a Lot and is sort of their uh, Hope. don't want to look scary to the people who depend on you!

bulma has some fighting knowledge and mildly good ki control. vegeta taught her it as a just in case so that she'd be able to defend herself against Bigger threats if he wasn't there and also so she could raise her own ki to alert someone to her if she had to.

vegeta is extremely clean and can not stand to have things disorganized for more than like... an hour before he has to tidy everything up. every time he goes down to the lab and bulma is passed out in a pile of bolts and circuit boards it kills him inside just a little bit

future trunks has little concept of power control. since his timeline was always in danger it wasn't really an important thing for him to learn. the amount of mugs he's accidentally crushed is impressive

vegeta tends to not sound like he's asking questions when he is. he doesn't add the proper infliction to the end of his questions and just sounds flat most of the time. it's confusing to people who dont know him well.

im not even gonna lie, im a BIG fan of the chill demon panchy headcanon so i love the idea that the briefs have a Lil bit of demon in them but just dont know it ghjnkm

[banging my fists on the 'hcs that not even got could take away from me' table] future trunks has OCD

vegeta doesn't really get labels but he's bisexual & "debatably a man", bulma is bisexal & bigender transfem (sometimes shes Wamen and other times its like "gender? no"), bulla is a nonbinary lesbian, current trunks is a bisexual trans man & future bulma forgot to explain the concept of gender and sexuality to future trunks so he's a little confused on that front and his gender & sexuality are "i have literally never thought abt these concepts in my life but i think men are nice. i refuse to think about gender though" (i actually have two main hcs for future trunks which are either gay trans man or more-feminine-presenting nonbinary bisexual)

son hcs:

goku is Not as fluffy as vegeta at all, but he does have fur on certain parts of his body. namely on the back of his elbows + ankles, down his back connecting to his tail, and on his shoulders. its inherented from gine!

gohan is learning saiyan language from vegeta! vegeta acts grumpy about it but he's glad to have someone to teach. when gohan learned that most of the history had been lost he basically wished shenron for a big ol book on saiyan culture and gave it to vegeta just as an act of kindness and vegeta was like [in an angry voice but very touched] "Ok. Sit down. You're learning." by extension gohan is also teaching the rest of his family!

i will take ox king being actually non-human to my grave so like, chichi has horns and a very short ox tail! gohan and goten both have horns, but they're hidden by hair. goten's horns are bigger than gohans.

goten also has a more ox-like tail, with a little puff of fur at the end. generally, gohan looks more saiyan-like and goten looks more ox/human-like.

although he keeps up his cheery demeanor very well, goku is still haunted pretty badly by like... everything that’s happened in his life. he still has frequent nightmares about cell & buu specifically.

gohan will freak out at worse, zone out at best, if he's even tapped on the neck. it reminds him of the whole 'getting his neck snapped on namek' so that area is pretty off limits to everyone

goten gets along really well with android 17. they both have a love for nature and 17s kind of like his chill uncle, so whenever he gets too stressed out or just needs a break you can find him face down on the ground outside of 17's place on monster island.

goku is really really good at remembering completely random shit. bulma uses this to her advantage whenever she's working and has him memorize random technology stuff. a week later goku can not remember what he had for breakfast that morning but as soon as bulma asks "hey do you remember what i told you last week" hes like "oh yeah sure i have no idea what it means but [blurts out three hours worth of technical garble]"

oh boy is this a headcanon that has a lot more depth to it than just a bullet on a tumblr post, but gohan has DID!

goku, like vegeta, doesnt get labels either, and does not even Try, ask him about any of it and hes like "i dont get the gender thing but i think lots of people look nice :)" gohan is gay and like vegeta, "debatably a man", goten + chichi are both bi nonbinary, & pan is a lesbian trans woman.

both:

bulla and pan are both into music! i think theyd mess around making their own stuff w/ launchpads

i have a general hc of ki mixing or shielding, essentially, if youre close enough to someone people wont be able to tell apart your ki and you can also 'shield' someone with your ki for a small amount of time. if vegeta has his energy low, his and bulma's energy are the same. same thing with goku and chichi! goten and trunks are near impossible to tell apart, and same thing with gohan and videl.

though goten and trunks are both protective over their younger siblings, gotenks is that protectiveness times a thousand. look at bulla or pan wrong for 2 seconds and you're going to have an angry gotenks in your face asking if you have any last words. i like to think that trunks and goten fused casually a lot, especially around the time where bulla and pan were young, so its basically goten and trunks own attachment to them PLUS gotenks' attachment to them as his own person combined.

i like to pretend end of z did not happen the way it did so uub, using nimbus, travels back and forth a lot. goku isn’t the only one who teaches him how to fight as goten, gohan and trunks all think of him like a little brother and love training with him!

fuck you letters to toriyama/toyotaro hot takes:

cell, as cool of a villian as he is, definitely should have had a creepier final form. or multiple- just something that really drives in the fact that he's made up of other's dna & fuckin ABSORBS people. also his first two forms should have had a different absorbtion method other than the tail thing (not the drinking thing thats fine) it just feels.   Weird. not good

it would have been far more interesting to keep the bitter attitude towards vegeta that future trunks had imo... in super trunks was going through a Lot granted but the fact tht he wasnt more confrontational to vegeta being a dick to him seemed kind of off considering his attitude in z i just.. think it would be interesting and far better if they had more of a back and forth 'family but lowkey hate each other' relationship

i dont want to rant about super so heres some super condensed takes, goku black arc specific because thats 90% of what ive seen of super:

mai is a fucking freak ass weirdo, why did they not just make another character to pair with trunks

trunks not flipping the fuck out at his timeline being erased feels... out of character. also trunks deserved the win against zamasu

future bulma did NOT need to die

trunks should have just stayed in the current timeline

please fucking let trunks and goten grow up. we SAW a version of trunks who looked 14 (history of trunks....) and the versions of goten & trunks we have r/n in super do not look 13/14 respectively what in the goddamn hell is going on in the character design department

super definitely should have taken place later down the line

supers version of bulma and videl look awful. why are they That stick like.

vegeta needs to kill frieza. just once.

fu has enough potential to be a very interesting mainline character and i am so sad he's not

i would actively enjoy a sdbh anime with more  budget that isnt just a promo anime and has a plot that makes sense... i think db should have more wild spinoffs

xenoverse deserved a better story that went FULL in on the 'what if' type of timelines- like they did in raging blast which is a FUCKING GREAT GAME

straight up lies:

dragon ball z is a good series

[edenamador]

100 Things about My Father

I forgot I was a poet. Skip down for the poem that came to me as clear as a crystal last night. Trigger warning - Suicide. 

I mean I have an inclination toward having dreams at night, 

thinking they have deeper meaning, and waking up with music in my head at 1:15am in the morning. 

There is something about 1:15 in the morning which has a razor sharp precision to it. Even though I’m more of a disconnected abstraction. Some constellation of stars nobody has given meaning to. Dreaming about that straight crush in college twice in one night. All this after in real life, oh and he was a poet too, now in grad school, who knows if he is the happy academic he craved to be. Who knows if he is still writing poetry or writing technical sentences with so much jargon nobody can understand. . . 

Its all rambly. I know it is annoying but that is how it comes to me. He asked me if I had followed the spirit and I told him I wrote the poem I was suppose to write. He was proud of me, like a dead ghost now, I loved him then but he is a stranger in a distant land now.

Yes, I was at Target, a place I worked so long ago and a previous co-worker said to me, “You look poetic, like you could be a poet.”

I didn’t know what to say but now I am dreaming of my poetic college muse and he is telling me to follow the spirit just as Beauvoir so now I’m on tumblr again because of that Target co-worker who said I should have a blog and get a following. An idea I laugh at because my poetry is well, I am poetic, I am not exactly a poet if I’m not writing poetry. So I guess I will share what came to me last night. At least a draft. 

My mother always says, “You have choices to make.”

So when my boyfriend says, “You never talk about your father,” and then asks, “Why is that?” 

I pause and my mother’s voice repeats, “You have choices to make.”

I could say a hundred things about the same thing. Like a simple fact about the color of a chair, “My father is dead.”

It sounds like, “The chair is red.”

1. My father died. 

My boyfriend might ask how he passed away which means I have to say more. This leaves me with more choices but I haven’t even jumped the first hurdle. I don’t even run track but the baton has been given to me, “How did he die?” I could have anticipated the next question and already answered it more bluntly. 

2. My father blew his brains out.

If I want to keep my boyfriend I should frame things particular to his way of life. That would be too precise and come off as indifferent like my father never mattered to me. He didn’t.

3. He died when I was four. 

Again, if I put it this way he might ask, “How?” and I would get to say

4. He loaded a pistol. I think it was a .45 pistol or a glock, and took the weapon to rat lake where he blew his brains out. 

If I present it with “when I was four” the cold way in which I say, “He blew his responsibilities away,” pops like a childhood bubble.

5. He’s pushing up daisies. 

6. He’s seven feet under. 

7. He croaked. 

Before the gun fire went off out in the country where only the frogs and flora of the boreal northern forests would hear it the American toads reed. When the gunfire went off silence consumed the forest for a few minutes before returning to normal a few minutes later. A few hours later, with the loons calling, a friend of my father’s came across his body and reported it to the authorities. 

8. My father was a mail carrier.

I could have said this as it would have delayed revealing the information about the death of my father, and how he died, the conversation about the long term effect it had on my psychology and the psychological impact on the rest of my family. Though, according to my mother everything turned out fine. Which is why as I approach 30 years old I am waking up in the middle of the night because I’m having dreams about people in graduate school programs saying, “He doesn’t even talk about his father! He talks about Black Lives Matter, Marxism, Gender Theory and all this crap, but he hasn’t even mentioned his father.”

9. My father is out of the picture. 

10. I would rather not talk about my father. 

11. I didn’t know much about my father. 

12. I don’t remember much about my father. 

13. My father left me with dry skin and a proclivity toward depression. 

14. My mother was a single mother. 

15. I guess I don’t talk about my father. Hugh, I wonder why that is. 

I like this because I can act like I’m just as dumbfounded by it as my boyfriend is. Creative writer circles often told me I am not concrete enough. So I guess we were sitting at a park in Hutchinson Minnesota when my boyfriend at the time asked this question. A few years later when the relationship had faded and I asked to be dating again he told me, “Some gay men have issues.” While I cried about it and refused to speak to him ever again he was right. I was a gay man with issues, daddy issues to be exact. 

16. My father had a beard. 

17. My father was an alcoholic and when my mother said she had enough he couldn’t handle it and blew his brains out. 

This one is the worst of them. It sounds like my mother caused my father to commit suicide. Nobody but my father took a gun to his head and blew his brains out. 

18. My mother never remarried after my father was out of the picture. 

Again, I could say this but it remains vague enough to lead to other questions any intimate partner would have the right to know. Or perhaps nobody has the right to know about my father and that I have the right not to talk about him to anyone. “Did they get a divorce?”

19. Do we have to talk about this. I’d rather not talk about this because I am not ready to reveal that story and its long term effects on me. Look, it’s a nice day and I’m happy talking about a million other things. 

This might indicate I lack the trust necessary to share that story. He may take it personally and think that our relationship should be more open. Or he might respect that answer and remain curious. Most people would talk about both their parents openly and in positive ways.

20. All the options in my life have been formed by my father’s decision to kill himself.

21. He killed himself. 

22. He offed himself. 

23. He decided he no longer wished to live. 

24. When given the option between suicide and coffee he chose suicide. 

25. I need counseling to answer that question. 

My mother was right. The choices were really endless. I could even use the same word presented in a different way. There were a lot of strategies for answering this question. Even after the question was asked I kept gathering new academic methodologies to answer the question, “Why don’t you talk about your father?”

26. If I open up about him I’m afraid I will scare you away because if I talk about my father I am admitting that I am a flawed human being with an abnormal childhood upbringing. 

Again, more options appear even if I avoid the subject of my father all together. It seems that certain events have greater effect on the long term psychology of the individual than others. But was my childhood “abnormal” or was my mother “doing the best she could” in situations which were out of her control? But it couldn’t of been out of her control. . . “Everybody has choices to make. . .”

27. “My father died when I was four.”

28. “I was four when my father died.”

I cannot remember which of these I used but it was one of the two. So I said what I thought in the moment. I paused. I know I paused and my boyfriend said, “Only if you are comfortable talking about it.”

29. I might cry if I talk about my father. But I don’t think I will. I usually don’t but its sad. Don’t be sorry, you didn’t do anything. Why do people say sorry when I say this? What personal responsibility did they have for it? Why do I have to answer this question? Why will this question always come up when in relationships? 

30. His death effect me because I was too young. 

That’s a lie because I know it impacted the whole trajectory of my life. There were material consequences. For example his life was attached to the union. This left my mother with a small financial cushion to fall back on when she was left to raise three children. While it may have been small it was enough for her to go to college for ten years and get a bachelor’s degree in education. 

31. I never talk about my father because then I have to talk about my mother. My mother looks like an American hero for the choices she didn’t make but talking about my mother also reveals the hidden demons I am not suppose to talk about as it might make her look bad. 

32. I never talk about my father because it usually becomes a really long essay about masculinity, the effects of neo-liberal feminism, and requires a master’s degree in sociology and a Ph.D. in philosophy to get to the bottom of it. It requires skill, tact, intelligence, emotional strength, and persistence to answer with any certainty. It’s a philosophical question at heart and I am not a philosopher, I am merely a subject exposed to systems of power which shape my experience in a world I did not create. 

“Why don’t you talk about your father?”

33. Why did he commit suicide? Why did my brother point a gun to my head? Why did my mother trust a teenager to get me to and from school going ninety miles an hour down icy unplowed country roads at seven in the morning? Why did the chicken cross the road? Why is the sky blue?

34. He’s sinking in the swamps. 

35. The worms are feeding on his body. 

36. He’s dead. 

37. He’s gone. 

38. He’s no longer with us. 

If at this point the possibilities seem pointless, redundant, or obnoxious, imagine being at work when a co-worker flippantly says, “I’m ready to blow my brains out.”

39. My father hurt his back and wouldn’t go to see the doctor. It was severe pain and he couldn’t really talk about it. He drank his physical and mental pains away. Sometimes he would come home drunk and punch walls in. I do remember waking up to the sound of shattering glass. The stove glass broke because my father kicked it in during one of his masculine temper tantrums. 

40. I didn’t know it when it was first asked but I now think my father died because of hyper-masculinity. I don’t think he was allowed to express any of the emotional or physical hardships he had. He likely had depression and was obviously having thoughts of suicide. Other’s in the family had committed suicide and had mental issues. When I go to the psychologist they show me genetic connections but as a sociology major I am thinking more about the limits on men expressing emotions. My father couldn’t express his emotions, that’s for sure, so he likely imploded, quite literally. 

41. I don’t mean to come off as cold hearted or disconnected, it’s just that the death of my father strikes me more as an abstraction than a concrete reality. When it does come up I am reminded of my differences, my class upbringing, the social values that played out in my childhood. 

42. For my brother my father was a something which became a nothing. For me my father is a nothing who, when asked about his existence, becomes a something that should have been, but wasn’t. 

43. By opening up about my father I cannot really say who he is without explaining who he was not and for me he was more of a not than a was. 

44. “Your father loved you,” my aunt says. 

45. My father bought two stuffed monkeys. The monkey was Abu from the Disney show Aladdin. He did this a few months before he killed myself. In addition to that he also bought me a small baseball glove. My uncle on my mother’s side went with my dad to the store to pick these up. My uncle says he was likely planning his suicide during this time and asked my mother that we hide these items when my uncle was around so he wouldn’t be reminded of my father’s suicide.

How could my father have loved me if he blew his brains out? It hardly seems like an act of love to abandon your child at the age of four. 

46. “God has a plan for everyone and even though it may not make sense to us down here there is a plan and there is nothing we can do about it.” Likely something my pastor said or something my grandmother said or something someone said along the way. When on a date with an attractive suitable man one doesn’t want to delve into religious theology and questions about the existence of God, determinism versus free will, the meaning of life, and deeper levels of spiritual enlightenment, or lack there of. One wants to eat ice cream, giggle about some superfluous thing, and see if one can see some concrete shape in the clouds: its a duck, a bird, a dinosaur, a giraffe. What do you see when you look at the sky? Is there something more out there? 

When asked about my father I am asked about a whole series of causal effects. When asked about my father I am asked to see myself as an object in the world formed by what the existentialists refer to as facticity. At this moment I free myself from the container which shaped me and am allowed to reconstruct the object that I am as I choose. 

I also begin to ask myself, “what if things had played out differently,” as I am prone to ask the questions I was told weren’t worth asking. I was told there were no answers to them but the questions which don’t have answers are the questions I like the most. So being asked about my father is really asking me who I am and how I became who I am. I am inclined to answer if one has the time for it. Most people don’t have the time, the intellect, the patience, the attention span, or the emotional capacity for such things. So I prefer to say, 

47. “Shh, daddy is sleeping. We must not wake him. He’s a terrible ghost. Let’s play hide and seek with death! Can you count to one hundred?”

48. “In any case, that little boy didn’t want to grow up for fear of becoming serious.” pg. 327 Jean Paul Sartre War Diaries

49. “But as soon as man grasps himself as free, and wishes to use his freedom, all his activity is a game: he’s its first principle; he escapes the world by his nature; he himself ordains the value and rules of his acts, and agrees to pay up only according the the rules he has himself ordained and defined.” 326 Jean Paul Sartre 

50. “And man is serious when he forgets himself; when he makes the subject into an object; when he takes himself for a radiation derived from the world: engineers, doctors, physicists, biologists are serious.” 326 Jean Paul Sartre The War Diaries

51. When my father died my mother was left to raise three boys. He was a step father to one of my brothers so one of my brothers still had a father. So my father is really three people: a dad who was then wasn’t, a dad who wasn’t then was, and a step dad.

I could have never explained all this that day I was asked. There in a rural town in the middle of a corn-field playing out the waves of one of my first gay relationships I simply said, “My dad is dead.” Reality is bleak like that. It restricts possibilities. Reality is only here in the field of “you have choices to make”. Reality are the options available. I am free to make choices in relation to concrete possibilities. For example I used covid stimulus money to pay for my rent so I could I have time to write this. I could have used it to buy copious amounts of liquor to subdue my existential angst. I could have used it to put it to my loans. I quit my job to give myself the time necessary to heal the wounds of the past. I refuse to conform to the pressure to buy a vehicle and get a license because I would have to buy car insurance which would mean I need a job to pay for the cars insurance. I would need gas to go back and forth to work where I would only continue to suppress my authenticity. Authenticity can never be achieved. It can only be something which is consistently reproduced. I reproduce myself as a writer only in the act of writing. Even the short pause between characters I realize other possibilities. Writing must be a consistent act I partake in everyday as a way of pursuing my own projects with the material conditions given to me.

52. My father is four people or five people because he was a co-worker to my middle school friend’s father, also a wife, a brother, an uncle. Six or seven people. He was never a grandfather though and could never be a grandfather. He could never have the possibility of being a grandfather so when my nephew says he doesn’t have a grandfather, his great uncle says he would be happy to fill the role. So my uncle, married to my mother’s blood sister, is my nephew’s grandfather. 

The more I think about choices the more I start to confirm that choices are in relation to particular material conditions given to a situation which show the constricting impact of choices. 

53. My mother, because of my father’s death, often found jimmy-rigged options for babysitters when family members were not available. When she realized my brother and I weren’t mature enough to handle being at home alone by ourselves, she looked into other options such as having me stay at the library until it closed. Later I learned that urban libraries have a phrase for this condition called, “Library latchkey kids,” which are children who’s parents are busy because of social economic conditions they end up going to the library after school for free baby-sitting. 

https://www.npr.org/templates/story/story.php?storyId=16451347

I would stay in the library until it closed. My mother would slip the librarian a twenty dollar bill. I asked about it once and I learned in one way or another not to ask about such things. 

When I took the Myers Briggs test in high school I scored nearly a hundred percent INFP which to me meant I was destined to be a genius like Shakespeare, taught in English classes all around the world for centuries to come. It meant I was introverted, intuitive, feeling, and perceptive. It meant that my room was messy but that my bookshelves were ordered perfectly with the Dewey decimal system. In high school I read Waiting for Godot with no idea it belonged to existential literature. On the question of why I don’t talk about my father, I am still Waiting for Godot. 

54. My father’s suicide, in the long-term, meant I got to be alone with books. I often tired of reading and would chat with the librarian. She would ask me if I had a girlfriend and show me the things she wanted on craigslist. Sometimes she had to rapidly click her computer screen to hide some areas of the internet that should not be looked at while a minor sat reading Dr. Seuss, books about nature, or how volcanoes worked. I loved reading. I could never get enough. One of the librarians never believed I read as many books as I did and often discredited some of the books she believed were above my level. I was smart and there’s nothing worse to rural people than a smart, effeminate, boy with a love of reading.

I was always told that my mother was good and was always asked if she was still in college. For ten years I said yes she is in college. For twenty years I never told anyone my brother pointed a gun to my head because she left us unattended with the gun case unlocked. When I brought it up to her in my late twenties she said it wasn’t possible because my twenty year old cousin was there in the camper. When I asked I thought I was testing whether or not she could have subdued her ego enough to admit to the possibility that it may have not been the best choice to leave minors unattended with an unlocked gun case at home. That’s the way things were with her growing up so why would it be any different with us? All of a sudden she gets away with making the right choices because, “She pulled herself up by the bootstraps and got a degree in education.”

Anytime I try to explain my experiences of these circumstances I am caught in a social trap by which the liberal value of women choosing careers over a life of drunkenness and whoreish behavior to capture the love of a man my mother’s story overrides. My experience of having a gun pointed at my head by my own brother is over-ridden by another set of values. 

55. I had a shot gun pointed to my head by my own brother because I was singing too loudly and he was hungover because he was drinking alcohol. 

56. I didn’t know if the shot gun was loaded. 

57. I stopped singing, fell backwards, and made a snow angel.

“Well, you’re mother could have brought over a bunch of rotten men. You could have been sexually abused.”

58. My brother used to chase me around the house naked and dry hump me. These are the effects of leaving minors unattended after school out in the country. And you know it which is why you started getting babysitters for us. It was after too many nights coming house to a destroyed house that my mother decided to have some family members watch over us and make sure we did our homework.  

59. “Stop being a victim you liberal snowflake.”

60. But I’m actually criticizing the effects of applied feminism in the 21st century. 

61. “You’re mother is a good person.”

63. “It could have been worse.”

64. “Everything turned out fine.”

65. “Everyone has trauma to deal with. Everyone has baggage.”

My boyfriend told me of growing up. His father was a chemist at Kellogg’s and his mother was an instructor at a community college. He was a potter, a knitter, and a banjo player. He became an English teacher. He told me that one time his dad brought home bags of Lucky Charm marshmallows for him and his sister to eat. His father recorded their responses to the marshmallows and adjusted the ratios of sugar based on those tests. That doesn’t sound like trauma to me. That sounds like a healthy childhood which leads one to have self confidence, self esteem, and the emotional stability necessary to face the mixed messages of life. In the meantime I seek out people who tell me I’m dumb, ugly, stupid, and will never amount to anything because I think that’s a normal relationship. If I am not doing that I am hiding in my room wondering what the point of being alive is wondering if there is any hope for me to heal and get better.

66. My father’s suicide is a traumatic past which shapes my entire experience. It’s a past that I have the right to represent by writing it. It’s a past which is not, “Everything turned out fine,” and no my mother did not, “Pull herself up by her bootstraps,” she had choices to make and one of those choices was to leave minors home alone with a gun case full of weapons and to trust that nothing bad could have happened in that circumstance. I will not limit myself to the blindness feminist discourse encouraged when I told my story to an existential philosophy professor at a liberal university. Yes, she could have chosen worse, but it could have turned out much better. I will not sit here silently submitting to my brother’s words, “Don’t tell anyone or I will kill you!”

“Why don’t you talk about your father?”

67. Well kill me. I’d be better off anyway. I am willing to die for the truth in the same way an American soldier is willing to die for his country. I am willing to stand for something even if I am alone. Pull the trigger. If it makes you feel like a man to point a gun at your brother you might as well pull the trigger. 

“It wasn’t loaded. Do you think I would actually put a shot gun shell in it. I love you, I’m your brother. Do you think I’m an idiot? I wouldn’t actually do that. . .”

“Why don’t you talk about your father?”

68. It’s exhausting. It’s a threat to my existence. It reminds me that blowing my brains out is a real possibility whereas for most people its a thing you say when life sucks. The following is an example of that. 

When I was working as an English as a Second Language instructor I thought I had made it. I thought that teaching immigrants and refugees English meant I had established myself as a concrete being in the world permanently enmeshed as a career oriented man. My degree in Sociology was justified and my graduate certificate was no longer a waste of time, energy, and effort. I quickly learned that my masculinity was always under question and that the few men in that field were perfectly miserable beings. The whole notion that people became teachers because they were heart filled beings with a passion for helping others vanished when my co-worker, a professional teacher who taught abroad in Japan, made the shape of a gun with his finger, lifted it to his head, and pulled the trigger. I had simply asked him how he was doing and it was apparently not well. I was feeling rather dismal and would like to think I responded like this. 

69. It’s a great position to be in. A cock loaded full of cum in my mouth and my cock loaded full of cum in his mouth. The tension was rising. Would we ever get to the desired result of all of our efforts? Would we ever achieve orgasm? Would we ever blow? Rest assured we exploded and were perfectly satisfied. There’s just something about holes and filling them which none of us can resist. Yet, even when the hole is filled to the brim with hot cum we feel so empty that we can no longer go on and so we pause. It’s okay to have long periods of stagnation so long as we can pull out at the right time and forgive ourselves for our responses to the past. The future may not appear to hold much but there is so much time and so many holes to fill. 

70. They covered my father’s hole with makeup. They closeted the cause of his death. At the funeral they closed the bottom half of the casket which made me think that someone cut my father’s legs off with giant scissors. I screamed. I was convinced that his legs were cut off with giant scissors and that someone had caused his death. 

71. How is a four year old suppose to understand this when adults are unable to tell the truth when the child asks questions about his dead father. He isn’t going to understand these things if adults themselves still don’t understand them. Adults go to great lengths to omit the grievances and effects of such events. “Everything turned out fine,” and “You’ve got choices to make.” 

A four year old’s brain is not ready to understand such things because adults don’t understand them. His memories are barely forming and he is still fascinated by blowing bubbles. Adults have lost their imaginations. He smiles at the sound of popcorn popping while adults drench popcorn in so much salt and butter that they die of heart attacks and call it death by natural causes. A child laughs when he sees a frozen lake swarmed by a hundred seagulls as teenage boys stuff frogs down the barrels of shot guns and laugh when American toad guts go spiraling into the sky like fireworks.

The events surrounding my father’s death are my first memories. There are many of them like the pastor holding me trying to give me comfort. I press my stomach for comfort. My first memories are the feeling of anxiety, that weird pang in the stomach which goes unexplained by doctors and still causes ulcers. There’s my cousin saying my father is away for a very long time and that he is in heaven. These memories attach themselves to future interactions when all compiled leave one wishing there were no choices to make at all. It leaves one wishing that there was one defined path meant for everyone which would eliminate all angst and all decisions. In fact it often feels better if there was no free will at all and that God really did have a plan for each individual. 

There is another pastor, who many years later, told me my father was in hell. This leaves me with one of those ridiculous choices and questions, “Is my father in heaven or in hell?” There is my aunt who tells me that my pastor is wrong and the Bible never mentions. There is my uncle who says people who don’t believe in God are not allowed in his home. There is the ice cream I ate after I was taken out of the funeral home to ease the emotional burden a screaming four year old must have placed on my father’s friends and family members. The ice cream was a temporary cure which taught me that negative emotions could be easily drowned with chocolate sauce and colorful sprinkles.

72. My father is in heaven. 

73. My father is in hell. 

74. My father is in purgatory. 

75. I don’t know where the fuck my father is. 

76. Do souls exist?

78. What is the difference between agnostic theism and agnostic atheism?

79. It’s ok to think about dying now and again. I think everyone has thought about it now and again but I’m not sure. I’m only one person with so many heartbeats. 

80. I don’t think I will commit suicide because it doesn’t solve anything. Living doesn’t solve much either but at least I can say I tried to count to one hundred. 

81. I might cry if I talk about my father. 

82. It’s ok to cry. 

83. It’s ok to cry. 

84. It’s ok to cry.

85. It’s ok to cry. 

86. It’s ok to cry. 

87. If you cannot sleep count the sheep or cry. 

88. It’s ok to cry. 

89. Real men cry. 

90. Real men cry. 

91. Real men cry. 

92. Real men cry like big men. 

93. Real men cry like grown men. 

94. Real men cry like real men. 

95. It’s ok to cry. 

96. It’s ok to cry. 

97. Facts may not care about feelings but feelings are always seeking out facts to justify themselves. One must be careful about the facts used to represent their feelings. 

98. Over intellectualization isn’t crying. It’s a defense mechanism. 

99. It’s okay to cry. 

100. Everything turned out fine. 

[rokokokokolores]

PLANT 101

A dumb guide for people who cannot keep a plant alive longer than a week, written by someone who has no clue either but owns a lot of plants. Here is what you can expect from this post:

Why should I bother to get a plant?

Do I really have to water them?

What do you mean plants need light?

Leaves need your attention.

Earth and oh no the plant grew!

Help I think my plant just died.

Some recommendations. Plants and prices.

I hope this is helpful! I put in some pictures ^^ The whole text is under the cut!

1) Why should I bother to get a plant?

Yes, why bother? For me, plants are pretty and that is reason enough, but there are actually more reasons why this might be a good room-mate for you! Firstly, plants and nature are known to reduce stress. This may feel obvious to some, but the effect of indoor plants are even greater, as it is very evident that plants improve emotional and mental well-being, as well as physical. As the list of its benefits is too long to summarize here, here is the article to a recent study that narrows past research down: An Update of the Literature Supporting the Well-Being Benefits of Plants: A Review of the Emotional and Mental Health Benefits of Plants – Charles Hall; Melinda Knuth – Journal of Environmental Horticulture (2019. I will put the link in the replies so tumblr doesn’t blacklists me.

Another great aspect of plants is that you can train yourself to take care of a living being and handling responsibility. For example, if you were to consider getting a dog, or fish, but are new to the field of keeping others alive, a plant may be a good start for you to see if you can do that task. Although, in my opinion, plants have one great disadvantage to most animals: They don’t bark to let you know that they’re thirsty. Though, maybe, this may be even more reason for you to get a plant, so that you can train yourself to think of this responsibility unprompted and find a structure.

Next to being very pretty, maybe even smelling really good, plants are also good for the climate! Not only do you help yourself, but also the environment. Plants create oxygen and that’s pretty neat!  Getting a plant isn’t only beneficial to you, but to the whole world, basically, even if it is only on a small scale.

So are you convinced to get a plant now? Great, then let’s look at where to start!

2) Do I really have to water them?

Ah yes. So many plants. Killing plants in the past, you may think I will go for a cactus or succulent – and that’s not at all a bad thought! But let’s dive into this matter a little more.

There are very different kinds of plants, and some are really hard to take care of, some are much easier to take care of. Most of this is tied to how you need to water them.

Generally, there are different kinds of plants all over, and no matter for what kind of plant you want to go for, I highly suggest that you google it before. When you get a plant you should know how to take care of it as this varies individually quite a lot. But generally speaking, too little water and too much water can kill a plant equally. So if you had a plant in the past and wondered why it died although you watered it so much – that might have been the reason. The reason is very simple too and it is tied to the plant’s roots. If the roots stand in the water for too long they start to rot, and then there is no turning back. How long a plant can survive in water depends on the plant.

If you have found yourself with a fellow that can absolutely not stand water on the roots (again, best would be to google your plant to find this out), you can put some small stones at the bottom of the pot, so that the water that is too much doesn’t actually reach the plant’s roots.

Alternatively (that’s what I do), you can take the plant out of the pot and put it into the sink, fill it for water, let it simmer for 20 minutes.

There are some more things you should take care of though:

the water should be room temperature, not too hot or too cold

depending on the season, the plant might need much more water or way less, especially when it stands close to a heater in winter or close to the window in summer, or when it is blooming!

→ this is why schedules often don’t work!

Ideally, just put your hand in the soil and look if it’s wet or not. If it is wet, don’t water the plant, if it’s basically dry as sand, go water it.

Yes, succulents and cacti often don’t need as much water, in that way they might be good first plants. But this is not a general rule among all succulents and they can be more complicated than it looks. More to that topic at the end when I give some recommendations.

The best thing, I say it again, is to google your plant and check how much water it actually needs. This way you make sure to not kill it with too much or too little love.

3) What do you mean plants need light?

This is an extra point, because the light aspect is really important, but the consensus is the same as for water. Depending on your plant it may need more or less light. I actually had a plant that nearly died once because it stood in a place that was too dark o(〒﹏〒)o

So go and google your plants and check how much light it needs! If it needs a lot of light, placing it in the window is a good idea (this applies to most succulents and cacti), if it doesn’t want that much light, find the darkest corner in your room!

4) Leaves need your attention.

Those green thingies on the plant are the leaves and they are the most vital part right with those roots. For the plants to be happy, it needs water (check), light (check), and oxygen. What? But I thought plants make oxygen?! Yes, but that’s basically just trash we should be more thankful for. First and foremost a plant needs to breathe as well and that’s just as every living being by taking oxygen and turning it into CO2. Just in case you weren’t aware. For a plant to breathe, it needs clean leaves, so every once in a while you should check the leaves and maybe get a damp cloth and wipe the dust off. You can also get a spray thingy and cover it with some water, but not every plant likes that, so google first if your plant of choice likes wet leaves!

Even if this is a crucial part of taking care of a plant, be careful because plants generally do not like to be touched. Be very gentle when you take care of the leaves!

Now you may have found a brown leaf. Cut it off. Sometimes leaves get brown, it happens, it’s not a big deal. Just cut it off so that your plant doesn’t waste strength on that part anymore! This also goes for the blooming. When your plant finished blooming and wilts, you may want to get rid of the crunchy bloom. (Although, you guessed it, this may vary with the plant, so google before you cut off dead bloom.)

5) Soil and oh no the plant grew!

So your plant also needs soil. You can’t really make many mistakes with that, but when you get a plant, check which kind of soil it wants. Some fancyTM plants want fancyTM soil, orchids, for example. Technically, soil is what may need fertilizer as well, but I have never used fertilizer in my life, ever. So I can’t give advice on that. My plants are still alive though, so I assume it’s just a neat extra, not a thing you have to have.

Where it becomes tricky, is when your plant grew and needs a bigger pot. When the roots look out of the pot, it’s time to get a bigger one. The rule of thumb is to get it one size bigger (a finger should fit between both pots if you put the smaller one in the bigger one).

This is one of my plants I really should get a new pot for!!

6) Help I think my plant just died?!

Ah, I am sorry! But depending on the plant, it might still be able to be saved! If it’s still alive and green close to the soil, just cut it down! All the dead parts go away, and it might grow new, a lot of plants are really resilient. Even if it doesn’t have any leaves any more, it doesn’t mean it’s gone for good, as plants store most of their nutrients not in the leaves but in the trunk and roots (which is the reason why the plant definitely can’t be saved once the roots start to rot from too much water!). This is my plant Monika that stood in a too dark place and nearly died, but as you can see it started to grow new baby leaves! (You got this Monika!)

7) Some recommendations. Plants and prices.

So which plant should you get yourself? That really depends on your taste! Succulents are pretty and relatively easy to take care of, so this might be a good start. However, I would not recommend an Aloe Vera, those are a bit tricky in contrast and need a lot of water. There's an awesome post somewhere on here that works as a guide on how to choose a plant, but I couldn't find it for the life of me. But generally, if you’re not that good with plants, I would suggest to get a forgiving plant. This means that just because you forgot to water it once, it doesn’t die at once.

Also, if you get a small and cheap plant, it needs much more attention (probably) and therefore is harder to take care of, if you get a bigger one, it might be more expensive, but easier to take care of. Also, if a plant is expensive, it’s probably not a beginner’s plant. That is often a sign that it grows very slow or is very hard to keep a live, probably the latter. This is also why bigger succulents are very pricey, they grow super slow! I would suggest that you look at some plants and get a bigger one that is cheap in contrast. That will probably mean that it is easy to take care of!

My favourite one is probably this one, the peace lily (spathiphyllum). When it needs water it lets its leaves down, and if I water it then they go straight back up. There’s nothing you can really do wrong with it. Blooms all the time, slight good smell. 10/10 would recommend.

This one is a classy one, the gum tree (ficus elastica). When I forget to water it it loses a leaf, which is a bit sad but once it gets watered correctly, it grows many more. Other than that, it’s a bit boring and grows very slow. 8/10 would recommend.

This one is super neat, the philodendron, which basically translates to tree friend! This one climbs and has a lot of air roots since it usually grows in other trees. Mine creeps over my desk and bookshelf. Very forgiving for neglect, grows a lot! 10/10 would recommend!

Succulents, they come in all shapes and sizes and it’s really fun to collect them. Don’t need much water and don’t really bother about anything. But if they’re just surviving and not really flourishing, they don’t really grow bigger and don’t bloom either, which I find super boring. Honestly, a bit overrated. 9/10 would recommend.

So! I think that’s it! I really hope this maybe took some fright from plants and you got inspired to get one yourself. If you have any questions, feel free to ask! If you have critique or additions, let me know. Until then, happy planting (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:✿ ･ﾟ✧ ✿

[astrid-goes-for-a-spin]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: The Flash (TV 2014), Supergirl (TV 2015), Superman & Lois (TV 2020) Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Lois Lane & Iris West Characters: Iris West, Lois Lane Additional Tags: Reporter! Iris West, Central City Citizen, Female Friendship, Commiseration, Women Being Awesome, Women Mentoring Women, Lois and Iris becoming friends, they have a lot in common okay, haphazard characterization of Lois Lane, unholy mix of CW Lois Lane with Smallville Lois Lane personality, Iris loves dessert, Cat Grant (mentioned) - Freeform Series: Part 3 of Iris Week 2020 Summary:

Then it all catches back up to her all at once: there’s no more Earth-1 or Earth-38, and in practice this means that it’s entirely possible she can run into Lois Lane at a national journalism conference.

On their own, Lois and Iris try to get to know one another and realize they have a lot in common.

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

for the tumblr crowd, here’s the full text: 

“Hey! West! West! EARTH TO IRIS WEST-ALLEN!”

At this, Iris turns to see who’s been shouting at her. The conference center is choked with people, and Iris would much, much rather be under the radar this weekend. But apparently she’s well-known enough now, at least in journalistic circles, that the back of her head is recognizable.

It takes Iris a moment to make out who’s calling to her. Pale skin, dark hair, an almost manic affect. The woman waving her over is so absolutely in Iris’s mental uh-oh category that all she can do is blink and stare for at least two seconds.

Then it catches back up to her, all at once: there’s no more Earth-1 or Earth-38, and in practice this means that it’s entirely possible she can run into Lois Lane at a national journalism conference.

Iris wades through the crowds to catch up to her sort-of-friend, and Lois grabs her arm and tows her out of the foot traffic and into a hug.

“It’s so nice to see you doing something normal!” Lois exclaims, patting Iris on the back. While she talks, she’s already steering Iris towards one of the courtyards in the convention center, against the flow of people. “Is it just you here?”

“Yep.” Iris taps at her badge. “I only have three people on staff, so Allegra and Kamilla are back in Central sending their work for edits this weekend.”

“Oh right!” Lois points a finger. “I forgot you were at a do-it-yourself paper. How is it, being editor-in-chief?”

Iris laughs. “I don’t have time to win Pulitzers, that’s for sure. Do you know my entire staff is on Team Flash now? Half my work is doing cover-ups.”

Lois lets out a theatrical groan and guides Iris into a wrought-iron chair at a little table for two. “Hate that. Perks of still technically being on maternity leave after I spent almost two years off-planet is that Perry lets me do whatever I want as long as I’m sending stuff in every once in a while.”

A waiter comes by. Iris didn’t even know they were at a restaurant – but apparently there are several aside from the two food courts. Lois chats him up by name while Iris covertly tries to take some weight off her feet. Her pumps are killing her. She sneaks a glance at Lois’s – she’s also wearing heels, but with the ease of one long since resigned to damaged Achilles tendons.

By the time Iris is tasting an absolutely beautiful coffee-flavored gelato, their conversation has moved away from work: Lois tells Iris about living on Argo and the trials of caring for a half-Kryptonian infant here on Earth; Iris fills Lois in on meeting and losing her adult daughter in less than a year and about the months filled with dread that her husband’s time remnant might murder her. Lois commiserates by telling her about Lex Luthor, and Iris can’t help but worry about taking care of a future West-Allen who’s sure to be a speed-force-powered toddler.

“You and me? We deserve an award,” Lois says, snorting.

Scraping to get the very last of the gelato, Iris looks up at her. “Lois, you have two Pulitzers.”

“You will in time, once that little paper picks up,” Lois says carelessly, and Iris blushes. She might not have grown up on a world where Lois Lane’s name was newspaper royalty, but her confidence still feels pretty damn good. “Which it must if it’s still leading the metahuman beat from Nora’s time.”

“I guess we’ll just have to wait and see,” Iris says. “For once, the only things I know about the future are good ones.”

“Amen,” Lois chuckles. “God, I’d go crazy with all the time travel. Other planets I can handle. Alien husband, got it. But waiting kills me every time.”

“At least there’s oxygen on earth,” Iris says flatly. “I…cannot even imagine traveling in space. It’s making my skin crawl right now.” She shudders for effect.

A phone chimes. On instinct, both she and Lois grab for theirs.  Iris laughs a little – it’s only an alarm she set last night so she would remember she wanted to go to the panel at 3.

“I have to go!” Iris blurts, pulling out a bill and putting it down on the table, gathering up her purse. “I’m gonna be late to Cat Grant’s talk on growing a media company-”

“Oh, just skip it,” Lois groans. “If you really want to meet her, I’ll introduce you. She hangs all over my husband every time she sees him and drunk texts me about how much she hates my freckles and adorable button nose. We owe each other a few punches.”

“Lois!”

Whether Cat Grant’s talk is actually going to be good, Iris does not find out. The floor beneath her shakes, shakes in a way Iris knows in her gut is not good. Needless to say, she did not pack a plasma rifle for the journalism convention.

Lois, on the other hand, looks more energetic than Iris has seen her since the end of the multiverse. She’s got an honest-to-god pen and paper out (how does she have time? Just record it!) and is already halfway across the room before Iris can stand.

“Lois! Where are you going?” Iris shouts after her.

“To find out what’s causing the earthquake,” Lois says like Iris is being an idiot.

Iris stares, and then the light comes on. They’re in a building chock-full of news media – most of whom are cowering beneath any cover they can find. They have no idea how widespread whatever this problem is, and people need information.

Iris and Lois are, perhaps, some of the only journalists in the world with the experience and chops to find out what’s going on in a (likely) unnatural disaster, and steal the scoop while they’re at it.

“I’m calling Barry,” Iris says, hurrying after Lois.

“Too slow, West,” Lois snorts. “I already pressed the emergency beacon in my watch.”

Chasing after her through the convention center towards street, Iris laughs. “You’re such a nerd.”

“A nerd who, if you’re not careful, is gonna steal your headline,” Lois points out. “And by God, your little baby newspaper needs it more than my storied career does. Go, get on the scene!”

As Iris nears the last few sets of stairs to reach the outside, she can see flashes of gold as Barry races around, presumably rescuing civilians from debris. This earthquake was so sudden – and in Metropolis, not on any major fault lines. Iris flicks back through her mental catalog of catastrophes: Geomancer? Malcom Merlyn’s earthquake machine?

There’s the edge of a cape in view now out the glass doors, and Iris notices Lois isn’t with her – there’s a young woman on the stairs, gripping the railing like she’s afraid the sky might fall. Before Iris knows it, Lois is sitting beside her, coaxing her hands off, stroking her hair, urging her to stand. She looks up and meets Iris’s eyes.

“Go get that headline and scoop all these old bags,” Lois commands. “I’ve got it here.”  

Iris huffs a laugh, then reaches down and takes off her shoes. “Yes ma’am,” she says, snapping off a quick salute and dropping her purse.

Armed only with her phone, recorder app open, and the will to prove her newspaper will last into her daughter’s time on its own merits, Iris runs.