#the way i beamed when i hit this on my rewatch?? EMBARRASSING

[wistfulwatcher]

Criminal Minds | 5.06 The Eyes Have It

[queeenpersephone]

An alternate universe from the “I Want to Believe” movie where, after Mulder shaves and they meet with Agent Whitney, instead of Scully being annoyed, she tells Mulder she just wants to get home to take advantage of his smooth face.

honestly where my mind immediately went... where your mind is anon... that’s the iwtb we deserved. so have the lead up to that. (also note: i haven’t rewatched iwtb, only the bed scene and select msr scenes, so i genuinely remember none of the dialogue just vague impressions) 

also sorry this is so introspective. it’s also 1am so i’m not even sure it’s introspective in a good way lmaO. 

-

The moment Agent Whitney reaches up towards Mulder’s face, Scully is onto her. 

Part of her can hardly blame the woman. Fox Mulder is a handsome man. A kind, brilliant, sexy man without ladder climbing ambitions is rare in the world Whitney inhabits; Scully would know. To suddenly be able to see a bit of sculpted jaw, that plump lower lip, would make even the most professional of woman swoon a little. 

The other part of her, the part of her who took Mulder’s heart and body for her own years ago, is itching for the gun she used to carry. Without it, she steps into Mulder’s space, ignoring the way he looks down at her in surprise and warmth. Maybe she should be slightly embarrassed that she’s seeking closeness for what is probably the wrong reason, but she’s not. 

Yes, Agent Whitney might be able to appreciate the clean shaven man who’s no longer hidden by a thick patch of hair. But Agent Whitney will never be able to appreciate what it means. 

Contrary to her soft protests in bed, Scully has never hated the beard. In fact, the beard complements the way he wears his hair now, longer and unkept, a sign of the years he’s spent hidden away in an office in a house where his name could never be on the deed. Mulder’s never been the cleanest, most organized individual by any means, but Scully has known since they met that he takes a certain pride in his appearance: his neatly pressed suits, his shapely calves built by years of running, his steady habit of shaving daily. 

Once they were on the run, however, all of that fell apart in a muddle of baggy, cheap clothes and dark circles and inexpensive hair dye. When they had settled, when Scully had gotten her job, she had pulled herself back together. But Mulder never had. There was nowhere to go, no one to see but her, and he had long stopped putting on airs for her. Would it have been nice to see him try sometime? Yes. Was she too busy basking in the fact they were alive and whole and together? Definitely.

She is somewhere between hurt and relieved that this foray back into the world that had burned them so thoroughly has catalyzed him into caring again. Because that’s what this is. It isn’t a meaningless shave, it’s a beaming message to the woman who has known him for over a decade now. This has brought him back to life. This has brought him back to life in a way she never could. 

She could embrace that fear that she’s not enough, the jealousy, even though Mulder had stepped away before Whitney could come anywhere near him. She could hit him where it hurts, she could beg him to leave this all behind and come home to her, with her. 

Or she could embrace the act, even if she’s resentful of the reasons. 

They watch Father Joe in silence for a long moment as Agent Whitney scurries off to see if he’s given them anything new. “I know what this is doing to you,” she says finally. 

He doesn’t look at her. “Do you?” He says evenly; in his tone, the words are barely a question. He knows her as well as she knows him, well enough to see her protests coming.

“I don’t want to regret bringing you out here,” she replies, watching his chest rise and fall. “This hasn’t been our job for a long time.” 

Finally, Mulder looks at her. “This is the right thing, Scully,” he says, emphatic, eyes shining, and all at once, Scully resigns herself to seeing this through. Sure, this is a psychic and a priest that molests children and dead FBI agents, but her current job is seeing her long-gone son in every sick child, so maybe it’s one half dozen or the other. Regardless, she can’t leave Mulder out here alone. She can’t leave him ever, not when that light is back in his eyes. 

Maybe it can chase away some of her darkness too. 

“Okay,” she says, not looking at him, but her clearly unexpected response is not one he will allow her to make facing away from him. He takes her arm, spins her in. 

“Okay?” He asks, shining eyes wide. 

“We’ll do this,” she tells him, reaching down for his hand with one of her own and reaching up to his face with the other. “But I won’t lose myself or you in it. So we do this together or not at all.” She softens. “Can you do that for me?”

Mulder sighs, leaning into her orbit. “Yes, Scully. I promise.” 

God, does she want to believe him.

She pushes the fear away and smirks instead, stopping him before he can make for Father Joe, who’s mumbling to himself a few yards away. “And Mulder?” 

He turns back to her, and she fits her tiny palm to his newly revealed skin, rubbing gently. He waits for her to speak. “We’re adding an activity back to our repertoire. Tonight. No excuses.”

He grins at her, slow and sure and god she has missed that bottom lip, she can feel its impact in her low abdomen, simmering with heat. “I knew you missed the best seat in the house,” he murmurs back to her, eyes hot and dark. 

“Mulder!” She chastises, even though she knows she started it, forcing back her blush as he fits his hand to her lower back and leads her over to their psychic witness. She refocuses. She promised to be present, to work this case, and she will, however much she fears what it might do to her. To him. To them.

Mulder’s hands find her back, her arm, her hands for the rest of the night. He treats her like a partner, a familiar dance that she’s missed more than she had thought. She exhales. 

Maybe they will survive this case intact. 

[woahajimes]

Jon Kent had become an excellent liar. 

“We're never finding Damian.” 

That was a lie, although it could also count as truth. They were never finding Damian. 

He was. 

He didn’t have any of this information assured, but he was trusting that it kept real. He had known Damian for at least a year and a half, perhaps even less, but it had felt like forever. It was funny how people changed over time. 

When he met Damian, things were rocky. Jon actually despised Damian, he tried to get away from him. He’d always make excuses for leaving, either with Kathy, or his dad, or Maya, even. Damian had been too cocky, a little far too confident. 

Too sure of himself and his abilities, it made Jon angry. 

It filled him with envy. 

When they were sent to boot camp, Jon realized something. Damian was, sure, older than him, and more mature, and maybe not taller, but he was more skilled than Jon in almost everything he could do. 

Damian was, in a way, just like him. A small way, of course. Nothing big, they weren’t mirror on mirror. Jon hadn’t been raised by a supervillain grandfather, and Damian wasn’t a half-breed between an alien and a human.

That was really the reason that he offered Damian the granola bar. He realized the small chance that they were similar. They were both lost, in different ways, but lost altogether. Jon didn’t actually know if Damian had ever been lost, if Damian even knew that being lost meant. 

Maybe someday he’d find out. 

When Damian slipped into his room, mocked him for going to sleep while the moon was still living, when he dragged him out the window, mocked him once more for not being able to fly, that’s when Jon knew there was something. Something in Damian that made Jon want to stay, just for a while longer. 

When they matched in school, just a few educational years of a difference, nothing much, Jon was psyched. They were already close friends, even though not much had passed since Damian had visited him at night that first time. 

What could he say? They became friends pretty quickly. 

When Kid Amazo destroyed their headquarters, Jon and Damian had become pretty close friends. They were actually joking with each other, and mocking each other and making fun of each other, as friends do. Of course, Jon wouldn’t exactly know this by the palm of his hand, for friends weren’t exactly his area of expertise. 

Yet Damian felt like a friend, like a best friend. 

After all, he had saved him, when Jon was drowning at the bottom of Morrison Bay, given him a rebreather, and swam Jon’s limp, unconscious body for a few minutes, until Jon regained consciousness. 

Saving each other’s lives, they were practically inseparable. 

Their second Summer together came around, the whole gig with the cube of the fortress and the primary colours of Jon. If he was being honest, he really enjoyed that summer, perhaps the best summer in his ten years of life. Jon had always wanted a sibling, and that summer it felt like he had hit the jackpot. He could finally say that Damian was his best friend, at least without getting elbowed in the stomach. The golden kryptonite, Jon took it as a gift, being split in two, it was a portion of something he had wanted for so long: A brother. And even though having somewhat of a twin wasn’t as fun as he had expected, he enjoyed it, for as long as it lasted. 

Jon remembers telling Damian that he’s going to spend time with his grandfather. Jon was spending the night at the manor, he was sitting in front of the TV. 

“Hey, D?” Jon turned from the TV, he looked at Damian. “What are we doing this summer?” 

Damian drifted his eyes from the screen. He looked at Jon. “What do you mean?”

Jon rolled his eyes. “Summer is in like two days, dummy.” 

Damian shrugged, his eyes wandering back to the TV. “Nothing much, why?” 

Jon turned back to face the TV. “I think I’m going to go see my grandpa.” 

“Cool.” And that had been that. 

Jon should have told Damian a bit more, maybe then he would have been opposed to Jon leaving. Instead, he had left out minor details from Damian, details Clark had told him when Jon had left, when Jon had already spent a few years in the volcano prison. 

Jon had to admit that his time in the volcano prison had messed him up a bit. He had thought about Damian a lot, more than he’d like to admit. If Jon was around… what? Fifteen? Then Damian would have been around eighteen. It struck him a few days later, just how much he’d missed. Damian would have already left the school, maybe gone to some college for smart super-hero ninjas. Probably forgotten all about him, about the summer of super and the Kid Amazo and all the things that Jon held tight to his chest. He probably forgot about the time they played Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid with pillow forts and nerf guns, about the times they ate cotton candy, sitting on the roof of the Carousel in the Hamilton fair. Pairing up for sports, even though they were three years apart in grades. 

Damian had probably forgotten about all that. 

It was really the Hamilton fairs that got to Jon. He used to love those as a kid. He went for the first time when he was nine, second time ten, third time eleven. The second time he went, it had been Jon’s first year since meeting Damian.

Damian couldn’t go for some mission with Batman, but Jon had met up with Kathy, He told her all about his adventures with Damian. She kept quiet, mostly because Jon wouldn’t be. It was pretty insane to think that this had all been in the same year, Jon meeting Damian, Jon moving away from Hamilton, to a private school, creating a public figure alongside Damian: the Super Sons. Nearly drowning in Morrison Bay, his mom almost killed, it was a bit too much for the mind of a 10-year-old.

Yet Jon got to the part in which he called Damian his best friend, and Kathy spoke up.

“Jon,” She stopped what she was doing and she met eyes with him. “What is it you even like about Damian?”

The question had caught him off-guard. “I- He’s kinda nice someti-”

“No,” Kathy interrupted him. “Not really, no. He’s not that nice at all.”

Jon kept quiet. He shrugged it off with a simple “I guess so,” and the night kept moving. He returned home, but Kathy’s question rung in his ears.

“What is it you even like about Damian?”

Jon sat on the office chair in his room, a marker on his hand. He stared blankly at the 9x9 whiteboard in front of him. He uncapped the marker and wrote down Damian’s name. 

He’s funny sometimes, Jon thought to himself. When he’s not being mean. He decided to write that down. 

He’s really smart, too. Jon wrote that down as well. 

He wrote down a few more things, all jots, and he reminded himself of the paper he had written for school not long ago. He took out his backpack, his binder, carefully opened the rings and slid out his paper. He started skimming it. 

“ ‘If I had to describe Damian in one word, it would be dependable,’ Jeez,’ Jon whispered into the room. “What was going on in my head?” 

He kept reading. “ ‘No matter what, when the chips are down, he always takes care of me.’” Yeah, that part was true. 

He read the last part in his head. I know I can trust him no matter what kinda trouble we find ourselves in.

Jon capped the marker, he deleted everything he had written on the whiteboard. He didn’t need a list for all the things he liked about Damian. He knew already, Damian was his best friend, no questions needed. 

Jon had done and said things he wasn’t proud of. He for one, developed new habits, bad habits. He wanted to pin an excuse on them, that it wasn’t his fault that he had developed such habits. It was just his reaction to being put in situations like that. Example taken, Jon had started to talk to himself. He wasn’t exactly sure if it was a habit or a sign that he was going insane, but he didn’t like it altogether. Remembering it was torture, it was a habit he started in the volcano prison. 

Jon clearly remembers that the first time he talked to himself, to Damian. When exactly, he wasn’t sure, but Jon had a hard time getting used to the lack of things, in this case, a small daily occurrence he shared with Damian. 

Their shared habit started in their first sleepover, it had rooted from something they were watching on the TV. The woman on the screen was putting her kids to sleep, and she asked her youngest boy, “What was your favourite part of the day?”, to which the boy answered “spending time with you, mom.” 

Damian snorted. “Let’s  watch something else.”

Jon whipped his head around and looked at Damian. “Let’s pick a movie.” His eyes beamed, he was grinning. 

They had picked out a movie they never got tired of rewatching: Butch Cassidy and the Sundance kid. They had turned off the movie early, Alfred coming in and telling them to get ready to sleep. 

Each in their perspective beds, both had been quiet for a while, until Damian spoke up. He pitched his voice, and said, “What was your favourite part of the day?” Mimicking the woman. 

Jon snickered. “Spending time with you, Dami.” He pronounced the new nickname like ‘Day-me’, and heard Damian make a vomiting sound. 

“Don’t you dare call me that,” Damian sat up, and Jon did as well. “I will end you, Kent.”

Jon waved his hand, he could make out Damian’s expression even with the lights turned off. “Pfft, what about Dami?” He pronounced it like ‘D-ah-me’. 

Damian’s expression softened. “Mother used to call me that,” he said. “She wasn’t very fond of nicknames, but I guess she liked that one.”

Jon felt heat rising to his cheeks. He hadn’t meant to touch a sore subject. He knew there was a complicated relationship with Damian and his mom. “I think I’ll just stick with ‘D’.” he said quickly. 

Damian laid back down on his bed, he turned away from Jon. “No, it’s fine. Whatever helps you sleep at night, J.” 

Jon still sat on the bed, he arranged his pillow. “D?”

“Yeah?”

“‘Hukka’” 

Jon could have sworn Damian smiled, just a little. “‘Hukka’, Jon.”

It was embarrassing to sorts, Jon had to admit. Whispering ‘Hukka’ to himself at night, swearing that he could see Damian if he just squinted a little bit. Asking Damian how his day went, swearing that he could almost hear an answer, the things you did for lost best friends. 

Jon had also thought about Damian, yet in more ways than those. Sometimes he wondered if Damian still wore turtlenecks, if he had made any new friends. What if he had gotten a girlfriend? Or a boyfriend? Worse, what if Damian had found a new best friend? A new super-hero partner, someone that didn’t leak tears when they watched movies like Coraline. Someone more like Damian, like a… super-smart ninja assassin. 

When Jon finally spotted earth, a late teen, he started thinking about everything that could have been. Perhaps if Jon hadn’t left, him and Damian would have been having ice cream and maybe getting their own statue as the super sons. Maybe they’d have moved past the Super sons. 

Jon wondered where Damian was now. Maybe he was Batman, although Jon secretly wished that he wasn’t. He had always thought that Batman was cool, but it wasn’t really Damian. Batman was in a way, everything that Damian wasn’t. But if Damian wanted to be Batman, then Jon really didn’t see why not. Could Jon be the Superman to his Batman? Maybe? 

It took him as an overall surprise, realizing that only three weeks had passed. It made hope linger in his stomach, a fluttery feeling. Maybe he hadn’t missed so much after all. 

But Damian had stared at him like a stranger, like he used to stare at the boys at school. It made Jon’s heart stop beating, just for a few moments. He wanted to cry on Damian’s shoulder, even if Damian had only aged three weeks. Damian had rejected him, and that hurt more than Jon could have expected. Damian had collected himself, after a short time, and they spent the night together. Then, before Damian left, he hugged Jon, tightly. Maybe Damian was also feeling what Jon was. 

Maybe his letter proved that. Maybe the letter was Damian’s way of expressing everything that he felt for Jon. 

So Jon set out to find Damian, to ask him about the letter. To finally explain to him everything he wanted to say. 

[midnight633]

Hiiiii midnight it’s been a while! I’ve been pretty the air at school is pretty chill rn and I haven’t been as stressed as normal! Anyways I just finished reading the haikyuu manga and none of my irl friends are going to read it so I’m DYING to talk to someone about it while it’s still fresh on my mind (also I remember you saying you read the manga but if you didn’t don’t continue reading for spoilers!) well ANYWAYS the nekoma match took YEARS of my life let me tell you and the cage metaphors and tsukki and kuroo’s battle of the blockers it was probably one of my favorite matches. And KENMA at the end actually having fun ahahah I loved loved loved this match.

And then fukorodani’s match with akaashi was hard to read but the “we are the protagonists/stars of the world” made my bokuaka heart go places but akaashi just breaking was so surprising to see and the fact that they don’t even win nationals makes me sooo sad I wanted at least one team I knew to win nations also

AND THEN THE NEXT MATCH HINATAA the day that scene gets animated is the day I combust someone give HINATA a hug he just couldn’t play for w h a t and then they losttt and he was crying alone and coach ukai and takeda were absolute kings in this scene. Buuuuttt we did get to meet the tiny giant and I thkught he’d look real intimidating and scary but he actually seems pretty cool! AND THEN KAGAYAMA unpopular opinion I actually can’t STAND him sometimes he really went I win while hinata is really cryingg and I know it’s for plot but hsjajsjs

The time skip omggg okay yachi saying that date tech went to finals and the Miya twins beat karasuno actually made my heart really happy. I do wish when they were third years they could if won but getting third is also really incredible and YAMAGUCHI WAS CAPTAIN I really need the crew as their years fics. The beach part was so fun to read I loved meeting them new people and OIKAWA I never though hinata and oikawa would get to the point of being good friends but I loved seeing it

AND THEN RHE MATCH BETWEEN HINATA AND KAGEYAMA okay kags backstory was sad but the “one day you’ll okay with someone who is even better then you” and that someone being hinata he finally beat kagayama it makes me sooo happy. Also bokuto making everyone clap for him I love it AND THE NEXT PART WITH OIKAWA ahahshd I don’t even want to know the outcome of the match but I was sooo sad it ended (and is it weird that I want a spinoff with natsu hinata playing volleyball that would be so cool)

I’m so sorry for the long ask it’s just I have NO ONE to talk to about this and you don’t ever have to answer I just like ranting so if you made it this far thank you and have an amazing rest of your day!

@ren-likes-muffins ?!! HOLY SHIT??!! You did it?!

I don't know what's with Tumblr not giving me notifications (also I haven't checked it much) so I'm late at seeing this but I AM SOO HAPPY U READ THE MANGA BECAUSE WE CAN NOW SCREAM AT EACH OTHER! I actually read the manga then went back and rewatched the series and started rereading the manga till the end of nekoma match then a week of exams happened and I became antisocial.

Deep breath

Like I was so pumped up for the nekoma match when I realized that was not yet animated and reading the first few pages of the manga was hard cuz my dumbass brain didn't wanna read right to left and interpret instead went rushing through the panels ( hence the re read to savour the storyline and characters) . But once I got into it the match was soo good? Like Kenma really went I don't care you're my friend I'm gonna tear u from limb to limb and did so calmly? I agree with the cage metaphor when he broke through it I was so giddy and I remember Suguru ( Nohebi's captain) commenting how he didn't like Tsukki's vibes and realising that it was same as Kuroo's and hating them both :)

The Fukorodani's match fed my bokuaka heart and was a precursor to Bokuto's 'im a normal ace' part. The tiny giant was kind of a disappointment but that's life for you.. and the kamomedai match man the battle of the little giants - I was so rooting for Hinata but when he collapsed I didn't get it at first but then it hit me and takeda's talk about taking care of body being a part of volleyball and all made me cry. Also Kenma coming to check up on Hinata? Soft. Heart breaking. Cue waterworks.

Somewhere deep inside I always expected Karasuno to win the nationals but they lost and I wasn't even bothered by it at the end

So.. unpopular opinion I kind of don't like Kageyama? He is always being insensitive and a dick to Hinata and when says I'm going forwards or some shit when Hinata collapses really made me dislike him very much. I don't really think their dynamic is healthy so kagehina became a big no-no for me.

But post time skip I loved that they could settle it and work together as equals. But Brazil?! My god, little Hinata become so accomplished-Ninja Shoyou- and the bit abt Kenma sponsoring him, Oikawa meeting him and becoming friends, seeing all these great high school players in the same team- let me tell you Atsumo and Sakusa on the same team with their competitive vibes with Bokuto - man I laughed like crazy at the Bokuto Beam, its so dorky and utterly him- and Hinata was perfect. Is it weird I want spinoff of the MSBY jackals and their shenanigans? I loved how they showed every ones career and Tsukki still playing 🏐 after saying it's just a game - he must have been more hooked than he let on-

I agree a spin off with natsu playing 🏐 would be soo Cool - going all like but Onichan you can't come to my game then everyone will want your autograph and you'll embarrass me-

I wanted more but with the open ending I can now imagine anything and subsequently my haikyuu brainrot is spreading

I too don't have any irl friends who watch it and I resigned myself to being alone in this but man ranting is so satisfying isn't it?

My haikyuu phase doesn't seem to end soon but it's just that I can't get into the head space for ATLA and I feel so guilty for it, I have so many updates from fics I've subscribed and I can't muster any interest in checking them out.

On another note it's so funny in a show where the only confirmed couples seem to be Tanaka and Kiyoko yet I ship so many of them!? In my mind they are all gay and I ship them. My fav ships are probably- iwaoi, daisuga, BOKUAKA, kuroken, and weirdly enough I was kinda obsessed with sakuhina, atsuhina, oh and sakuatsu. I. Just. Think. They're. Neat.

Oh well this is way too long and if you've read all this you have the patience of a saint and I'm proud of you. If you want let me know your fave ships and other manga bits that caught your attention ( random- but I love that Kita is a rice farmer and supplies for onigiri Miya)

Here is a fanart that I love that reminded me of the ' we are the protoganists of the world'

Byee!! Take care and Have a lovely day! Ily<3

[endearingsalt]

I’m rewatching Journey to Babel and I have a *lot* of feelings

and i also have pumpkin liqueur with ice cream and you should too

i have BIG feelings about the very first shot of sarek being one where spock and bones are in the foreground as spock tries to teach bones the ta’al and the two are doing their banter as normal. like sarek boards the enterprise probably knowing spock would be there, and there’s huge fanfare, all eyes on him, except for one person, and that person is his son, who’s too busy talking to his friend to fuckn bother looking up for him 

what kind of an asshole do you have to be to not return the ta’al, at all, ever, much less to your own child, like i don’t even fuckn care that they’ve been estranged for 18 years, what the fuck @ Sarek 

and jim and bones agree with me. they have that quick exchange as the tension grows and sarek looks away, and i’m RIGHT there with them because they KNOW what a big deal this shit is and right out of the gate for seemingly no reason this guy’s just gonna insult spock like that 

we see bones think about trying the ta’al for all of one second and then my boi puts his hand back down and i’m like good, he doesn’t deserve your well-wishes 

and when amanda comes up?? when sarek presents her to jim??? she brushes past spock without so much as a glance. i hate them both so much 

now. we all love to laugh about jim asking if spock wants to beam down to visit his parents and then having to get told that “.....these.....ARE my parents....” but i’d also like to point out that jim’s original plan was to have spock show sarek and amanda around, likely because of a mix of being the first officer + being a vulcan. when sarek asks for someone else, jim and bones make eye contact again, and this one is more steely than the last. they were surprised and annoyed at the unreturned ta’al, but they’re both straight-up pissed now, and they don’t even know the tea yet. i would like to suggest jim goes out of his way to point out that spock is both well-regarded and a fellow vulcan, all while also trying to give him an out for a few hours, since none of them are happy about being around this many politicians anyway, and there’s clearly something Up with these two specifically. idk i really like that the timing and tone indicates jim specifically chose to offer that to spock because of what had just happened. of course it really blows up in his face, but, well, how could he have known considering none of these people chose to fuckn tell him

on that note, damn, we all talk about this one, but what the hell was spock’s plan huh? did he think jim knew, somehow? did he think he’d have a chance to explain later on? did he think he could get away with no one ever finding out? was his sole purpose truly just to sow chaos? did he try to find some way to explain all this beforehand and just kept falling short until the deadline was upon him and he just went in blind hoping for the best? not very logical in any case but wow is it a mood 

the first. and i mean THE FIRST FUCKING THING amanda says to spock is “after all these years among humans, you still haven’t learned to smile” okay lemme just break down all the ways i’m in a damn rage over this 

FIRST OF ALL, when they + jim arrive in engineering where spock is, he doesn’t seem to have been aware they were coming, and his back was to the door at the time, which means they effectively snuck up on him. he gets up, turns around, and settles into parade rest, as he do. he doesn’t acknowledge them beyond that, and jim continues the tour past him, graciously attempting to end the brief and unexpected encounter smoothly. need i remind us all that both sarek and amanda actively chose to not acknowledge spock before this; indeed, sarek actively insulted him twice, and amanda settled on simply acting like she’d never seen him before in her life. they set the tone here. his reaction in this scene is simply falling in step with what they had set, and is actually on the polite end of that. 

amanda breaks this no-contact with an immediate insult both to spock as an individual and to his vulcan side, which she knows spock highly values. furthermore, her exact words are something many of us have repeatedly heard. they are invalidating words that seek to shame a person for not presenting what they have deemed the correct emotion at the correct time. they’re invalidating enough when used on a person who is actively happy and just doesn’t show it in the way some are used to seeing it, but that isn’t what’s happening here. no, here amanda knows exactly what she and sarek have done to alienate spock just in the last 5 minutes, let alone the last 18 years. she knows precisely why he would be on edge here, and seek to avoid another encounter. she’s fully aware of his discomfort, and chooses to make her first words to him scolding ones. 

his response is measured, and scans as normal, but there’s tension in his tone, as there rightfully should be under the circumstances. and yet her next words are scolding him for not visiting her, despite the fact that he and sarek are estranged and she knows that, despite the fact that she’s given him not a single fuckn reason to do so in both scenes she’s been in so far. 

can we talk about “my wife, attend” and “mr spock, a moment if you please” and the fact that the parallel is completely obvious and jim is really clearly doing it so that spock can show off after it became clear that just walking past wasn’t gonna be an option (thanks, amanda). that ALSO immediately blows up in his face, but dammit, he’s trying. i feel for jim here honestly. he keeps trying to help spock out and at every turn he accidentally does the worst possible thing. anyways spock takes off, thankfully, and i sure hope the man gets to go have a solid meditation time before the dinner later, because Lord knows he’ll need it 

so then sarek, that little sniveling bitch, bows out on the rest of the tour. because “offense is a human emotion,” but pettiness is SURE vulcan. the humans are now alone. important to note that jim did not hear what amanda and spock just said to each other. all he saw was that the second amanda had an opportunity to speak to spock without sarek hearing them, she took it. he therefore likely thinks (correctly, to a degree) that he and amanda are on better terms. he’s also more comfortable with her because she’s human. so the first thing he says, after finally letting himself actually show some of the massive discomfort he’s been feeling this whole time, is “i don’t understand him,” meaning sarek. he’s hoping to gauge amanda and get some insight on what the HELL is wrong with sarek. and he and amanda hit it off! amanda is charming! they’re cute together! meet the mother-in-law is going well, and based off the way amanda says “he is a vulcan; i’m his wife,” it seems pretty clear that amanda is woke to The Premise from the get-go. meet the son-in-law is going well. jim then tackles the big question. the father/son estrangement. 

“spock is my best officer. and my friend” says jim immediately, because amanda’s response indicates the sarek isn’t wrong for the way he just treated spock, and wow is jim not gonna stand for that for a second. we love to see it. 

amanda is wearing this “concerned mother” expression as she talks about how it’s “hard” for spock to be split between humans and vulcans, as if she ever actually understood any of that when she so clearly doesn’t. 

let me. let me get this straight. let me just. let me really just. get this hammered in here. “it’s logical,” says amanda, for sarek and spock to have not spoken as father and son for 18 years, because spock chose starfleet, and sarek had wanted him to carry on the family tradition at the VSA. sarek is so fucking upset that spock chose a different career than the one he wanted him to have that he cut contact for nearly 20 years, and, amanda says, “it’s logical.” “it’s the vulcan way.” “it’s a better way than ours, but it isn’t easy.” what about this is the vulcan way? what the fuck? what the FUCK. 

anyways. stubbornness. a human trait. that grin. yeah, these two are tight now, as shitty as amanda may be. 

this post is about spock’s family life so i won’t rant about the colored marshmallow wine. 

jim: *kicks back a shot as he has to listen to sarek speak words*. what a mood 

bones: now’s my time to shine. my time to learn all the dirt on spock. 

spock: no, please, no 

amanda: now is my time to shine. my time to sow chaos 

this is it. this is why spock tried to not let bones know who sarek and amanda were. this was it all along

“you embarrassed spock this evening” says sarek, to amanda, when they are alone. “not even a mother may do that. he is a vulcan.” i’m gonna cut a bitch, i swear, this guy, this guy thinks telling your son’s friends about a childhood pet is worse than not returning the ta’al, what the fuck. don’t act so fucking high and mighty sarek. don’t even start with me. 

TO AMANDA’S CREDIT, she needles sarek about how he actually is proud of spock and just doesn’t want to admit he’s been wrong for the last 18 years. 

their marriage is cute i’ll give them that 

“threats are illogical and payment is usually expensive” IS a baller line, even though it comes from sarek. see this is the thing, sarek and amanda both have redeeming qualities. i can’t quite manage to hate either of them completely. which is what makes this episode so good. 

mm. i really like how bones just like, really tries to avoid outing sarek as a suspect, and just looks to spock instead. we love to see it. 

“sorry, it couldn’t have been me, i was busy having a heart attack”

“sorry, can’t argue, am having a heart attack now”

the vulcan way is to time heart attacks to the most dramatic times possible

spock: jim, please, please stop trying to make me feel feelings about my father. i am NOT prepared for that shit right now, for the love of surak. 

also, this episode said “uhura is a vital member of this team” and we love to see it

someone get amanda a damn chair, her husband’s in the middle of dying 

spock: wow. i was dreading this trip but i did not anticipate having to deal with the fact that i still care about my shitty father 

OOOOOOOOKKKKAAAAYYYY. when spock puts together the plan to use the drug on himself and then give the necessary blood to sarek, amanda is the one to explicitly put it together. when spock says yeah, still under the “emotions? none here, all i have is Logic,” we cut back to amanda, who goes through several emotions in the close-up. she knows. she knows spock’s quick willingness to take the risk is stemming from care for sarek, despite the fact that he’s been an extremely shitty father. she also looks maybe a little guilty. and i hope she feels that way. some guilt would do her good. 

this whole episode really sucks for bones. he’s just trying to be a decent medical practitioner and no one is respecting that. 

oh here’s kirk’s ass

gosh this fight scene is fucking outta nowhere. i fucking love this show. it’s weird as hell. what the HELL is this fighting technique. and passing like that? i’m losing my mind what the hell 

THAT SAID this episode REALLY sucks for spock. homeboy’s already going through some massive shit and then jim gets critically injured. we hate to see it 

oh no. oh shit. here it comes. the worst scene. the scene that makes me want to throw things at the screen. here we go 

FUCK YOU, AMANDA. FUCK YOU. FUCK YOU, AMANDA. FUCK. YOU. 

this isn’t even a vulcan-based decision. This is the kind of decision a human in the same situation would also have to make. spock CANNOT hand over command right now. there are dozens of delegates on board. the captain has been critically injured. there is an extremely dangerous, unidentified ship just outside. there is so obviously a scheme at work. there is immediate danger to hundreds of individuals, and as first officer, he has a duty to the ship. he literally says all this. he literally says that he would do it if he could without abandoning everyone else. this decision is logical, but it is not devoid of emotion. he states that clearly. but does amanda listen? no. she doesn’t. her ears are closed in this conversation. she only has one goal here: shame spock into obedience. and when he refuses to yield, she gets aggressive. 

i get it, okay. i do. this situation is awful for her. she’s stressed to the max. she has an outburst, a mistake. but what she does isn’t acceptable. it’s awful, it’s horrible, i hate her for it so much. 

i have more i could say on this subject, but this post is about the whole episode, not just this scene. 

“we cannot disregard that philosophy for personal gain, no matter how important that gain might be.” your 1 is showing mr spock. also i love you. i’d ask you to marry me but you’re already married 

oh, i hate her. OH, i hate her. 

the gaslighting, folks!! the shaming!!!! the emotional manipulation!! i hate it!! i hate it so much!!!! OHHHHHHH MY GOSH I HATE THIS 

oh wow i’m gonna have to make a second post just about this scene later. i can’t type it all now. i don’t have time and also i’ve get too emotional 

spock can’t even talk it out with jim because jim’s busy being near death in the same damn room as his father, and he can’t go to bones because bones is busy trying to keep them both from dying, and he can’t go to uhura because uhura is busy tracking the threat.........ohhhhh i hate this so much 

the hand he puts up against the door that will ultimately mirror wrath of khan, only this door isn’t clear, and the gesture isn’t returned....... i hate this so much 

jim, finding out about all the shit that’s gone down while he’s been unconscious: can’t damn a man for his loyalty. YES JIM YES. this is what we love to see. everyone else sees spock’s actions so far as disloyal to his father. only jim has seen them as acutely loyal, to starfleet. AND he’s willing to put himself in danger to let spock off the hook. 

spock, looking from jim to bones back to jim: mm. i sense bullshit. and you know what? plausible deniability. yeah sure i’ll go save my father’s life. 

I WOULD LIKE TO POINT OUT, that the plan jim made upon waking up assumed spock was overly cautious in thinking scotty shouldn’t be put in command. he intended to let scotty take over as soon as spock was gone. then. after a mere few seconds on the bridge, he changes his plans. spock had been right. spock was RIGHT to stay in command. VINDICATION.

okay i don’t even think amanda should be in the room right now but she should CERTAINLY have a damn chair

spock, in the middle of an operation: okay WAIT actually i just figured it ou- *is sedated* this is just like hermione getting petrified 

wow this episode really sucks for bones. the poor man’s doing surgery on vulcans in the middle of a space battle. 

jim, immediately: is spock okay. don’t give me this bullshit is hE OKAY YES OR NO

the end scene is sweet. EXCEPT FOR SAREK BEING A BITCH, AS HE FUCKN DOES. “one does not thank logic” fuck you man

“Logic, logic, FUCK your logic” - let amanda say fuck edition 

we do like to see sarek finally speaking to spock of his own free will, but he’s still an asshole 

okay this bit with the triumvirate. very cute. a nice ending. we need some release after that damn episode. 

i can’t believe i made it to the end. i started at 8:15 and it’s 10 now. 

[crazedlunatic]

Drunk!Matt

“You need to back off, buddy, because I am engaged.”

“This is too precious.” AJ looked amused as Matt drunkenly shoved at Adrian. He was too drunk to put effort into it, though, and gave up after two attempts.

“No. It’s really not.” Adrian sighed.

“He must not drink much.”

“No. He doesn’t.” Adrian confirmed, easing Matt into a booth at the restaurant.

“I don’t want to be by the wall.” Matt whined.

“It’s the only way I can guarantee you won’t embarrass yourself.” Adrian slid into the booth next to him.

“Guys, how come Luigi doesn’t get more credit? Mario isn’t even the best Mario Brother. And what’s their last name? Shouldn’t it be Their Last Names’ Brothers?” Matt asked, taking a sip of water that Adrian had just put in front of him. “Or is Mario’s first name Super and they’re all Marios? Plot twist.”

“Just bring him all the food.” Adrian told the waitress.

“He’s even got his own pizza shop.” Matt continued. “It’s of course called Marios. What a stupid pizza name.”

“Sweetie, I think you’re talking about Marcos Pizza.” AJ said.

“Marco has a pizza shop too? See?! Luigi just isn’t appreciated but I appreciate him. I bet he’s the youngest brother.” Matt scoffed as Wes, Kurt, and Blaine sat across from he, Adrian, and AJ.

“I love him.” Kurt told Blaine.

“I’m engaged. God. Why does everyone want me?” Matt threw his hands in the air.

“Matt, I’m the one that grabbed you.” Adrian said.

“Who are you even? Have you seen my person? He’s a hot model… well, he used to model…. He’s really pretty.” Matt said, looking at AJ.

“I love you too, Matt.” AJ said, mainly for the reaction.

Matt turned to face Adrian. “Oh, there you are! Did you know everyone here loves me? Your friends are nice.”

“I think right now we’re just tolerating you.” Adrian did not look amused.

“Sweetie, do you do stupid stuff when you’re drunk?” AJ asked.

Wes’ eyes lit up. “Yes. Let’s get Blaine drunk and watch it.”

“No.” Adrian and Kurt said together.

“Uh, yeah. The first time I tried to weigh my eyeballs… yes, I did end up in the hospital but not for what you’d expect.” Matt said.

“Wait, what?” Wes asked.

“It’s a long story involved a magnifying glass, a shoestring, and a broom. You should ask when I’m sober.” Matt chirped as they all looked at him like he was crazy.

“But… you went to the hospital because of our eyeball?”

“No. That would be ridiculous.” Matt looked at Adrian like he was crazy. “It was because of the shoestring.”

“What are you doing?” Blaine asked Adrian who had pulled out his phone.

“Texting his brother.” Adrian responded.

“Oooh, tell him hi for me.” Matt said, taking Adrian’s lemonade and downing it in two gulps.

“I… was going to drink that.” Adrian said slowly. He then said, to everyone else, “All he sent was a gif of a dog chasing it’s tail.”

“Maybe he’s drunk too!” Matt looked at Adrian’s phone and began to giggle. “I love that gif. His face when he catches his tail is how I feel when I… ooh. Adrian, can we get ice cream?”

“Yes.” Adrian said. “He’s going to be so sad in the morning when he realizes he got wasted in front of all of us… while we are not even tipsy.”

“But I’m not going to drive, so it’s okay.” Matt said, holding his hand up. “You shouldn’t drive and drink…. Or drink and drive… you should also dare to resist drugs or some shit like that. I dunno. Where do you even get drugs? I mean I know where I can get them but my dad would probably be mad… and Mark… and Pete… and Logan. Oh yeah, and my mom. She told me if I ever smoked pot, she’d cut my hair off… guess what? I didn’t! I really want to do me weewoo right now.”

“Your what?” Wes let out a loud laugh.

“You know… Weeohweeohwee Weeohweeohwee Weeohweeohwee like a cop car?” Matt sang. “C’mon. You have to know that.”

“Hey, Matt.” A firefighter said walking by, looking amused.

“Hi!” Matt waved energetically. When he was out of earshot he added loudly, “I’ve had sex with him. It was subpar but everything is compared to Adrian. Before Adrian, though, it was pretty awesome.”

“How do you not love this? He’s drunk out of his baby mind and still keeps talking about you.” AJ asked Adrian.

“Imma marry him ‘cause he said yes.” Matt beamed. He then looked at Adrian and said, tone very serious, “I love you very much.”

“I love you too.” Adrian patted his thigh but couldn’t help but smile.

Because at least Matt was cute even if he was being annoying.

“The song doesn’t really sound like the car. It actually is a lot more annoying and loud. It hurts my ears.” Matt let out an adorable sigh.

“What’s up, buttercup?” AJ asked.

“I think I forgot to feed my dog.”

“We don’t have a dog.” Adrian looked at him, confused.

“Whose dog have I been feeding?”

“None because we don’t have any dogfood?”

“Do we have a fish?”

“No. We have zero pets.”

“That’s boring. We should get a koala.”

“Okay. You find one and I’ll get it for you.”

Matt grabbed AJ’s phone and pulled up Google.

“I just love him.” AJ sighed. “He’s so cute and innocent.”

“Innocent?” Adrian scoffed. “He is not innocent. Don’t let the cute face fool you.”

“I found one! I sent her a message on Facebook.”

AJ grabbed her phone and showed everyone—it was just a gif of a sloth. Not even a koala. Which had been sent to himself from AJ’s text messages with him.

“It’s on the gimme app.”

“Gify.” AJ laughed.

“No. Gimme. Me as in not you.”

“Just let him win.” Kurt whispered. “This could go on all night.”

“I’m sorry. I just really want to get drunk with Blaine and Matt and it’d be the most hilarious thing ever. We’d get our own show.” Wes said. “Can we make this a thing?”

“I don’t have time to drink. I have finals next week.” Blaine sighed.

“That’s a bummer. You should drop out and join your brothers in blue… or something. I can’t remember. It’s in a pamphlet, though.” Matt yawned and laid his head on Adrian’s shoulder. “Pamphlets are stupido. That’s Spanish… right, AJ?”

“Estúpido.” AJ said.

“Stupido.”

“Estúpido.” She repeated.

“It’s too hard!” Matt laid his head on the table, mock crying.

“It’s… one extra letter…” AJ looked between everyone else at the table as Blaine reached over, patting Matt’s head.

“That one letter is the difference in failing and barely succeeding!” Matt hit the table and then said, “Estúpido.”

“Good job!” AJ smiled at him like she was talking to Scarlett.

“I know Spanish! I need to call and tell Mama.”

“Don’t you dare call your mother right now. It’s three in the morning.” Adrian threatened, grabbing Matt’s phone.

“You’re a thiever.”

The fireman from before came over, dropped a plate of chilli cheese fries in front of Matt, and said “You’re welcome” before walking back to his table.

Matt literally turned around in the seat and yelled, “COOPER, I LOVE YOU BUT YOU GOTTA STAY AWAY BECAUSE I’M ENGAGED NOW!”

“I’m so sorry! I couldn’t help myself!” The guy, Cooper, called back in a very serious tone. “It won’t happen again!”

The restaurant manager came over, also putting an ice cream in front of him. “This will probably help too, Matthew. You’ve gotta quit doing this. You know every time you do, your brothers come in and watch the video footage, right?”

Matt let out one loud laugh and then a snort, causing the firemen several tables back to all begin laughing loudly.

“Thank you.” Adrian told the manager. “How often does this happen?”

“Not often enough to make it not hilarious.” He responded.

Matt pushed the empty fry plate away and then waved energetically as another group of firemen came in.

“I don’t know which of you he’s with but just a hint—Planet Earth episode with the polar bears. He’ll be out within two seconds.” Another young firefighter said before walking and joining the now two groups of fire fighters.

“Matt… how many of those guys did you sleep with?” AJ asked sweetly.

Matt turned in his seat. “Five.”

“Please tell me how good the redhead was.” AJ said.

“Disappointing actually. Coop, though, is awesome. Like… woah.” Matt said, making a blowing up gesture with his hands. “And he’s so ripped. Like… woah.”

“What about Planet Earth guy?” Kurt asked.

Blaine looked at Kurt, surprised.

“Uhm, he was okay, I guess. Honestly, I fell asleep.”

“I just… don’t even know how to react right now.” Adrian said. “I was under the impression he didn’t date firemen.”

“Not seriously and always safe.”  Matt chirped. “You can’t be too careful, Adrian. I don’t have time for STD’s.”

“So… are all of the firemen you’ve slept with over there?” Adrian asked.

“Pfft. That’s just the night shift.” Matt said and then gave a sweet smile. “Just kidding. I’ve only had sex with three of them. Almost four but, yeah, fell asleep. You’re better, though! Pinky promise!”

Adrian hesitantly linked pinkies with Matt, but only because he looked so excited. “Your brothers are gonna love watching this tomorrow, aren’t they?”

“Oh, they’ll watch it a lot. They make copies.” Matt said cheerfully. “They have monthly rewatch parties. It’s kinda annoying but I guess I’m funny.”

“And how does your dad, the chief of police, feel about this?” Blaine asked.

“Are you kidding? He’s the one that has the copies made.” Matt waved his hand in the air. “Mmkay, Adrian. Time to go home and have lots of sex. Mmkay?”

…

“So, Matt, what happened with a magnifying glass, a shoestring, and a broom?” Adrian asked the following morning after Matt got back into bed and laid under his covers—he had been, of course, throwing up.

Matt looked at him, confused, and then pulled his pillow over his head.

“Really? You aren’t even going to tell me?”

“You let me sing the cop car song.” Matt pulled the pillow down and glared. “The cop car song.”

“Oh. You mean wewowewo like a cop car?” Adrian looked confused.

“Uh, no. It’s weeohweeohwee Weeohweeohwee Weeohweeohwee like a cop car.” Matt glared.

“So, I met ‘Coop’ last night.” Adrian looked at Matt, who covered his face with his pillow and let out a loud groan.

[dieced]

I know in the continuity of The Agent and the Hunters, I had Leo meet back up with Durga and Garuda after the ending of the game, but I was rewatching cutscenes and had the thought:

Wouldn’t it be hilarious if they showed up during the final boss fight?

Imagine if, right after Leo’s “Fuck law and order” speech, when he’s knocked down and Nikolai is about to kill him, Jack is just about to save him when there’s a missile fired from outside the arena. The missile hits Nikolai, knocking the kill-beam off trajectory, and all eyes turn to see Durga and Garuda fly in.

They land at Leo’s side, who is confused af but also happy. As opposed to everyone else, who is just confused af.

“Friends of yours?” Jack yells, turning to face the advancing drones.

“I’ll explain later,” Leo replies, specifically looking at Sasha, “but yeah, they’re on our side.”

“Works for me,” Jace grunts. “Let’s just deal with Comrade Nick and haul the crazy man home before I change my mind again.”

Durga just cracks his neck and cackles.

Cue fight. It plays out basically the same, except during the scene where Baron, Mathilda, and Sasha get knocked down, Durga and Garuda also get hit. So it’s just Jack and Leo for the end of the fight, because that bit was too cool to change.

After the fight, Leo goes to Sasha to help her up, and after their canon exchange, she looks over to Durga and Garuda (Garuda is already on his feet and helping Durga up), then back to Leo.

“You have some explaining to do, yes?”

The smile drops from Leo’s face, replaced by an ‘oh shit’ expression. “Yeah uh, the thing is-”

“Wondering why we’re not dead?” Durga interrupts. He’s limping a little, but still managing a decent saunter as he comes over. “Don’t blame Leo, we kind of put him in an awkward position. Actually, several awkward positions, if memory serves right.”

Leo chokes, and Durga cackles.

“But seriously,” Durga continues, “it wasn’t his fault. He was desperate for information, and Garuda and I took advantage of that desperation.”

“Information?” Sasha asks.

“Max,” Leo clarifies. “They claimed to have fought him back in Altambra, and might have had a clue as to his whereabouts.”

Durga nods. “That’s right. So we offered to share what we knew, in exchange for a piece of that tight ass.”

Sasha’s mouth drops open. She looks to Leo for confirmation, and he has a hand over his face.

There is a beat of silence, before Sasha snaps, “Leo! Standards.”

Leo uncovers his face for a moment, then turns at the sound of laughter. Jack and Baron (who is holding Mathilda) are on their feet and watching, shit-eating grins on their faces. Leo re-covers his face and silently wishes for Nikolai to come back to life and kill him.

Sasha places a hand on her hip and scrutinizes Durga. “So the fight on the Towers?”

Durga just shrugs again. “My idea. I’m not usually one to take off right after sex, especially when my partner is still basking in the afterglow of a fantastic orgasm,” he grins at Leo who is making a low sound of pain, “but there were circumstances out of our control. Our deal wasn’t done, so we agreed to meet back up there. But then Leo says you’re on the way, and he was worried that he was going to get into serious trouble for doing what he did if the wrong people found out. So we staged a fight. We were supposed to take a dive and let you interrogate us, but things got a little,” he rubs his neck and coughs, “out of hand. You know what I mean, you were there. So that dive turned into playing dead.”

“About that,” Leo interrupts, walking over and looking Durga and Garuda up and down, “you were both pretty hurt. Why are you here now? I’m glad for the help and all, but it’s been less than two days.”

“Yeah, well.” Durga trails off, averting his eyes, and it’s his turn to look embarrassed for once. “We know some people who patched us up pretty quick. Nano-tech healing can do wonders, for the right price.”

“That still doesn’t explain why you’re here.”

“Bah, you and your questions!” Durga scoffs, still not making eye contact. “Like I said back then, Garuda and I were bored. So we hacked BPS radios to keep tabs on you. So what? I was hoping for a proper rematch.”

Leo raises his eyebrows, but says nothing.

“But then we overheard the chatter about a drone army coming after you, and decided to crash the party. Taking on a bunch of BPS drones sounds like a good time to me! And besides, we’d never get that rematch if you died. It was personal interests, that’s all.”

Leo still looks like he’s going to keel over from embarrassment, but he’s smiling. Sasha is looking at Durga like he’s a puzzle she hasn’t quite figured out.

Jack breaks the silence. “As sweet as all this sitcom feelings bullshit is, we still have to figure out what to do with them.” He nods towards Max and Nikolai.

“Let’s take them both back to Milvallen,” Leo says, walking over to Max. “Max can get the help he needs. And we’ve as good as got a confession from Nikolai, so he’ll go on trail.”

Jack grunts in agreement. He walks over to Nikolai and picks up the upper piece of his body. “Due time for due process in Milvallen.”

Sasha joins Leo in helping Max to his feet. Max is unsteady, leaning on both of them, but his eyes are the clearest they’ve been.

“Let’s get you home. Jeannie’s waiting,” Leo says.

Max nods solemnly. He looks to them both, as if he’s seeing them for the first time in ages. “Home. Yes, home sounds good. And Leo? Sasha? Thank you.”

Max’s grip on their shoulders tightens slightly, and Leo and Sasha squeeze back.

Leo turns slightly to address Durga and Garuda. “What about you two?”

Durga waves him off. “Eh, don’t worry about us. We’ve got some business to attend to.”

“Will I see you again?”

Durga looks surprised for a second, then grins wickedly. “Do you want to?”

Leo’s expression pulls tight and he flushes a little, which makes Durga laugh. He climbs onto Garuda, still laughing.

“Then we will meet again! Until next time, pretty agent!”

Durga is still laughing as Garuda takes off. Over the sound of his fading laughter, Leo can swear he hears Max mutter something about ‘never getting any goddamn grandchildren’ but he decides to ignore it.

Fade to credits! :P

[erlenmeyertrash]

An Oddish Occurrence

…so i had this one sudden headcanon thanks to @prinxietys‘ post yesterday and. well. here are a bunch of words on it now whoops

Logan loved vocabulary.

He adored the intricacies of the English language- how there are so many ways to describe what happens in the world, how many different paths can be taken to convey a message. Linguistics, to him, was a wildly important science in its own right, with its own theories, history, rules, rule exceptions, and near-constant evolution. The logical side always enjoyed learning slang. Word-association games were his favorite (and Patton’s puns, although often rudimentary, did slightly impress him with Patton’s innate understanding of subtle wordplay). He would fight to the death for the Oxford comma. He knew the subconscious order of adjectives (opinion size age shape color origin material purpose) by heart.

…and poetry? Oh, don’t get him started.

The technique, the brainpower, the skill behind finding words that matched in syllable and sound, putting them together to form coherent sentences and tell stories… Logan marveled at all of it. From Chaucer’s Canterbury Tales and Shakespearean sonnets to modern-day rap music, he definitely had a soft spot for brilliant balladry.

…That did not mean, however, he appreciated singing- specifically, Roman’s singing at 7:30 in the morning.

“Little town, it’s a quiet village

Every day like the one before

Little town, full of little people

Waking up to say…”

“FOR THE LOVE OF- DUDE. SHUT UP. IT’S SATURDAY.”

“…No, Sleeping Broody, the villagers all say Bonjour. That doesn’t even rhyme. Why would you think they s- HEY!”

Logan yawned and rolled out of bed, clumsily grabbing his glasses off the nightstand and adjusting them on his face as he did so. He heard Patton’s voice from the kitchen over Roman and Virgil’s bickering and sighed in relief- if anybody was well-versed in damage control, it was the fatherly side.

“All right, all right, you two. I know Thomas had an early start, what with the road trip and all, but it’s still a little early for fighting, don’cha think? Here- who wants to help with breakfast?”

The logical side perked up at the mention of food, getting dressed a bit faster before heading down the hall to the kitchen. Roman was pressing buttons on the coffeemaker with a dumbfounded expression; on the opposite side of the kitchen, Virgil was carefully pouring milk into a measuring cup as Patton rummaged through the fridge. At the sound of Logan’s footsteps, Patton glanced up and narrowly missed banging his head on the top of the fridge.

“Morning, Logan!”

Logan merely nodded in response, shuffling over and gently swatting Roman’s hands off the Keurig before pressing several buttons with well-practiced hands. Roman let out an indignant huff before reaching over to grab the cream and slide it closer.

“I could’ve figured it out, you know,” he grumbled, taking mugs out of the cabinet and passing them over. Logan just raised a sarcastic eyebrow in response.

Minutes later, the four of them were all gathered around the table, a steaming coffee cup and pancake plate sitting in front of each one.

“So!” Patton started brightly around a mouthful of pancake. He swallowed before continuing. “Since Thomas can kind of run on autopilot for this road trip, what does everybody have planned? I was just gonna watch him play on his old Gameboy- you guys have no idea how glad I am he found that thing!” The moral side wiggled in his seat, unable to contain his happiness.

“I was gonna rewatch Stranger Things,” Virgil replied, adding a fifth Splenda to his coffee. Roman wrinkled his nose in disgust before turning back to Patton.

“I will most likely spend a short while spinning up some trains of thought to use if Thomas gets bored, but… other than that, maybe polish my sword. Take a rest day. Ooh, maybe watch some old cartoons!”

Patton visibly brightened at Roman’s sudden idea. “Oh, my goodness, that sounds so fun! Can I join?”

“Why, of course! There is no one better to nostalgize with.”

Patton beamed before turning to Logan. “What about you, Logan? What did you wanna do today?”

Logan mulled for a moment. “Well, there’s no real schedule to adhere to, considering Thomas is traveling with friends at the moment. I may simply go through the memory record books and make sure everything is in order.”

…or at least, that’s what he wanted to say. When he opened his mouth to reply, foreign words suddenly spilled out before he could help himself.

“I wanna be the very best

Like no one ever was-”

Logan threw his hand over his mouth.

Patton blinked, grin wavering slightly. Virgil choked on his coffee. Roman snorted, glancing up in surprise.

“…Care to repeat that?”

I- I’m sorry, I don’t know what just-

“To catch them is my real test-”

Logan paled. …Oh, no.

It had happened before, on rare occasion; he had been lucky enough to be alone then.

Since Logan was the Side that most closely represented the brain- combined, he supposed, with his fascination with language- if a song ever got stuck in Thomas’ head, it seemed to… manifest… in Logan’s vocal chords. He was powerless to stop it from interfering with his own attempts at conversation.

It appeared that Thomas playing on his old gaming device, combined with Roman and Patton’s surge of nostalgic ideas, had caused Thomas to think of, of all things… the Pokemon theme song.

“To train them is-”

He bit down on his tongue. Hard. Glancing up, he realized Virgil looked slightly horrified, Patton looked a mix of confused and concerned, and realization was slowly dawning on Roman’s face as a devilish grin curled his lips.

“…What’s the matter, Logan? Meowth got your tongue?”

“I will battle every-”

Logan abruptly stood up from the table as Roman threw back his head in laughter. He opened and closed his mouth, realizing each time that his attempts at communication would fail, before turning and storming off to his room. His cheeks burned as Roman’s cackling followed him until he shut his door.

—

It wasn’t that he blamed Thomas. It was just that he was completely powerless until Thomas’ subconscious brain decided that was enough and moved on from its whimsical ploy.

It meant that Logan could be forced into embarrassed silence for a few seconds or a few hours. He suddenly remembered all the times those cringe-worthy radio pop songs had been stuck in Thomas’ head and shuddered involuntarily. Before, the logical side had holed up in his room and forced himself to fixate on anything else until he could open his mouth without Britney Spears or the likes of pouring out. Roman’s sudden light bulb moment involving old cartoons combined with Patton’s surge of happy nostalgia and Thomas’ lack of preoccupation had caught him completely off guard.

What would they think of him? He was Logic. He was supposed to be put-together, poised, and practical- not prone to sudden flights of fancy. Randomly bursting into song was much more Roman’s or Patton’s department; other than the fact that he was the likely the side most connected to the brain, it made very little sense for him to be the one to deal with these inopportune outbursts. Especially when Thomas had been in school, and studying- ugh. Those times had been the worst.

A sudden knock on the door pulled Logan out of his reverie; he glanced at it warily. If it was Roman, realizing what was happening and coming to poke fun at him…

“Hey, Logan. It’s me, Patton. Can I come in?”

Logan opened the door and Patton beamed before slipping into his bedroom. He glanced around, getting his bearings, before turning and fixing Logan with a concerned stare.

“…What was that? Are you okay?”

Logan opened his mouth to respond before stopping himself just in time. He looked down at his hands, then back at Patton, and nodded once before shrugging helplessly. He tried to convey that nothing was wrong, he was just… not perfectly all right.

Patton tilted his head. “…Did you lose your voice?”

Logan shook his head. Patton frowned.

“I want to help you, but if you don’t tell me what’s wrong, it might make it kinda difficult.”

“I know-”

Shush!

“…So you know? Why won’t you tell me?”

Logan clenched his fists in frustration. “Gotta-” NO-

“Gotta what?”

I’VE “GOTTA” WAIT THIS OUT BECAUSE I AM POWERLESS TO STOP IT-

But what came out was, “Each Pokemon to understand the power that’s inside!”

Patton’s jaw nearly hit the floor. “What is going on here?!”

Logan looked at him desperately, throwing his hands at the ceiling. “I know it’s my destiny-”

Patton looked panicked. “Did you- did something happen to Thomas? Did he hit his head?” The moral side stepped back for a moment, a pensive expression shadowing his features as he connected with Thomas’ feelings. After a moment, a wave of realization washed over his face- and then stark confusion.

“…Wait. So because he’s- that makes you-”

“Gotta catch ‘em all,” Logan sighed in affirmation.

“How long has this been going on?”

Logan glared at Patton, who grinned sheepishly. “Oh. Right. You kinda can’t- your vocabulary’s a little limited right now. Sorry.”

…Wait. An idea popped into Logan’s head at Patton’s words. His vocabulary may have been limited, but that didn’t necessarily mean he couldn’t communicate to some degree. After some quick recall of the lyrics, he carefully opened his mouth.

“It’s always been-”

“Huh?”

“It’s always been,” Logan repeated emphatically, gesturing towards Patton. I’m trying to answer your first question, please understand.

“It’s always- oh! You’ve always had this happen?”

Logan nodded.

“Any time Thomas gets a song stuck in his head?”

“‘Em all,” Logan confirmed.

Patton frowned. “…Why wouldn’t it happen to me or Roman, though?”

Logan thought for a moment. “I’ll teach,” he said slowly, gesturing to his glasses and necktie, before starting again. “-my rightful place.”

“Ohhh! Because your ‘place’ is like Thomas’ brain- that makes sense!”

Logan grinned and nodded. Patton was being remarkably perceptive.

“Why haven’t the rest of us noticed?”

Logan gestured to his room. “In a world we must defend.”

“You just hide in here?”

Logan shrugged before nodding in confirmation. It’s either that or sitting silently in the living room.

“How does it go away?”

“Our courage will pull us through.” The logical side shrugged.

“…What?” Patton scrunched up his face in confusion. Logan paused, thinking.

“The time is right,” he added.

“…It goes away when- ‘the time is right-’ so you just have to wait until Thomas stops thinking about it?”

Logan brightened at Patton’s successful deduction, giving him a thumbs-up.

“Well, until then, I’ll just be your translator! I might be a bit of a Slowpoke, but if you Digg-let me, I’ll catch on to what you mean pretty quick.” Patton looked absolutely elated at the new world of nostalgic puns he and Logan had just entered. Logan, hiding an internal groan, smiled at Patton’s helpful offer.

“Arm in arm, we’ll win the fight.”

“Sounds like a plan. Now- I know you didn’t finish your coffee or pancakes, and both of those are just too good to let go to waste… Weedle you say? Wanna head back? I won’t let Roman tease you too much- and I’ll explain to Virgil. You speaking so strangely kind of rattled him.”

“With courage I will face,” he said solemnly. Patton laughed before walking back over to the door.

“Well, come on then!”

“You’re my best friend.” Wait. Logan paused- he hadn’t meant to say that.

Patton just smiled softly at him; the laughter in his eyes was replaced by warmth. “Ditto.”

“Thomas, I get that playing on your old Gameboy is super fun, but can you please stop singing the Pokemon theme song under your breath? It’s getting stuck in my head now, too.”

“Huh? Oh! Sorry, Talyn.”

[sicklylittlesnowflake]

Hi lovely! If you're taking requests, would you mind doing a Spider-Man fic where Peter gets really sick at school and for some reason aunt may can't come so tony comes to take him back to the tower and takes care of him?? Thank you so much!!

(Combined because of similarity!! and also wanted to play with different ideas bc lets be real a lot of my spiderman stuff are repetitive!! And also emeto warning later in the fic!)

There’s nothing Aunt May hates more than leaving Peter.

She’s a tough lady, Peter knows this, and she will never admit this, but Aunt May is afraid of leaving him. Peter doesn’t blame her.

She has dealt with loss far too many times. A person with that kind of a heart does not deserve that turmoil. She’s a beautiful woman, and Peter admires her, and he will do anything to keep her happy. He tries to be safe for her, although duty calls, but in the hardest of battles he thinks of her to stay alive.

So when Aunt May was called to do an important business trip down in LA, she was frantic. She had spent the past weeks trying to figure out where Peter should stay, what foods she should leave behind, running over everything with Peter, how much money she should leave, and so on and so forth. Peter admired how much she cared, but all of this wasn’t necessary.

To top it off, Peter had started to develop a bit of a cold. At the time it had been the slightest of coughs, and a bit of a sniffle here and there, but it was enough to send the poor woman into hysterics.

The only thing that eased her troubled mind in the end was Tony Stark’s offer to keep Peter for the week she was gone. It was only then she was able to relax, knowing Peter was in good hands. She had apologised, softly reminding Peter how he was all she had. Peter understood, he really did. He would keep him safe as much as he could. But crime did not wait. The world just kept going and he couldn’t just sit there and do nothing. He wasn’t any better than the bad guys if he did.

In an attempt to cheer Peter up from his light cold and fearing that Peter would feel a little homesick and miss Aunt May, Tony decided to do a thing that only encouraged Peter to get out there even more.

On the Sunday, Peter was busying himself rewatching Blade Runner when he heard a weird whooshing noise and a frustrated hiss, followed by a curse.

“For fucks sake, Vision, what’d we say about the walls?!” A man said exasperatedly.

“My sincerest apologies, that notion appears to continuously escape from me. I must enforce this a lot stricter,” An English man said.

“Clint, give him a break. I’m sure he will get it,” A female said softly.

Peter tensed slightly at the realisation, exhilaration tingling in his body in anticipation. He whipped around and a small gasp was forced out of him, eyes twinkling in delight when he saw what he saw.

Before him was The Scarlet With, Hawkeye and the Vision, and they were so fucking cool.

“Oh my gosh, this is so cool!” Peter exclaimed, bouncing off of his seat in excitement.

Wanda smiled at him fondly, “I mean, I would not quite say these two are cool, but I would say so for myself. Not these two.”

Clint gave him a grin, “You’re pretty cool, kid. You really impressed back in Berlin, I mean, we hated you because you weren’t on the right side, but you were really fucking cool. But hey, we like you now!”

The Vision nodded, “I do agree. You did display some rather exemplary skills in the battlefield.”

Peter went bright red, and his time it wasn’t from his endless coughing or slight fever, he felt unbelievably touched and inspired.

“A-awh, no..I..I wasn’t that great,” Peter said bashfully, scratching the back of his neck.

“You know, it’s nice and refreshing to have a young guy on the team. It’s like hope, you know? Knowing that justice will still be served even when we grow old and weary. You’re the next generation of super heroes, and my heart feels a little more at ease,” Clint smiled softly.

Peter’s heart swelled, “P-part o-of the team?”

He wasn’t sure if the croak in his voice was from shock or from his cold.

“Of course, Peter. You’re one of us now, and I’m looking forward to working with you!” Wanda beamed.

“Of course, when Mr Stark allows you. He is very fond and protective of you, it seems, and you will need a little more experience but with after you have acquired that you will surely be a full fledged member of the team,” The Vision said warmly.

“W-wow, I don’t want to sa–” Peter choked, both from overwhelming emotion, and also from a cough that began to strangle his throat and forced out a harsh cough that escalated into numerous, harsh and chesty coughs that had him flushing red with embarrassment and doubling over by sheer force.

Tony sighed fondly, and managed a little smile before approaching the boy and wrapping an arm around his shoulders, patting him on the shoulder, “Alright, that’s enough for today. You guys can go off and be losers, while both of us can do our cool thing, yeah?”

Peter managed a shaky smile, “Yeah, definitely.”

And he definitely would.

This whole thing gave Peter this sudden surge of energy and motivation, this itch that wouldn’t stop burning in him that yearned to serve justice. He couldn’t just sit around and rest, the whole world did not work that way. He had to stand and fight, and he had to do it for the avengers.

Some sickness wasn’t going to stop him. Definitely not now.

“Hey Mr Stark? Are you cool with me going over to Ned’s for our project?” Peter asked, a slightly raspy grit to his voice as he slung his backpack over his shoulder. He smothered an itchy series of coughs against his shoulder in irritation.

Tony reemerge from the kitchen, a frown plastered onto his face, “What? Are you sure you should be working like this?”

He shuffled up to Peter and placed the back of his hand against Peter’s forehead, frowning, “You’re a little warm, Peter..and you’re still pretty sick..”

Peter shot him a reassuring smile, “I’ll be just fine, Mr Stark..Mr Callahan will kill me if we don’t have this project finished!”

Tony looked worried, “O-okay. Here, I’ll give you a ride..”

“No!” Peter said a little too quickly.

“U-uh, I mean..I’ve been really wanting some fresh air..” Peter tried hopelessly, lifting his fist to his face as he began to cough forcefully. It left him feeling a little nauseous.

Tony’s worry only elevated, “Pete..What if you get worse? I don’t want you to get sicker than you already are!”

Peter offered him a soft smile, “I really appreciate your concern..but I’m fine. I think you’re worrying a bit too much. Take a breather.”

Tony sighed, “Okay. You’re right. Go ahead.”

Peter turned around with a grin, only for Tony to yell out a “Wait!” He whipped around in confusion.

Tony rushed towards the hallway and thrust a thick warm coat and a woolly scarf into Peter’s arms, which he barely caught, “Wear these, okay?”

Peter chuckled fondly, “Okay.”

The cold wind left his body in shivers, his teeth chattering as he walked through the bitterly cold air. Peter groaned as he threw on the suit in an alleyway, the harsh cold winds piercing into his skin and causing him to tremble. He let out a hacking cough, doubled over by the sheer force and spluttered, grabbing onto a garbage can to maintain his balance. He had coughed so violently he felt a bit sick at that.

Once he finished his fit, he leaned against the damp, cold stone walls to try and catch his breath, recover from his fit as his chest heaved. He closed his eyes to block out any other stimulus that could potentially worsen his state. Peter felt awfully dizzy, way too warm, horribly woozy in the worst possible way. He felt a wave of nausea hit his stomach, shortly followed by a splitting headache that had deathly tremors that radiated from its epicentre.

Peter felt so awful that his entire body was telling him to stop. To go home.

But his heart was thinking of justice. And how if he didn’t patrol tonight’s someone’s father, or mother, husband, wife, brother, sister..doesn’t matter, somebody could potentially not come home.

That was enough to keep him going.

So Peter shot up his web slinger towards a building, and he swung from building to building, passion burning in his heart. He scanned the land below him, searching and keeping guard. He’d make sure everyone was safe.

It was like that for the next 10 minutes, him swinging from building to building to scan the area. Peter didn’t realise how fast he was going until suddenly the world began to spin and tilt and move. And his stomach cramped and a tidal wave of nausea hit him hard and suddenly his web slinger broke off from the last building and he was falling. He felt scarily light.

Peter skidded across the top floor of an apartment block, his skin scraping against the gravel. He let out a groan as he felt the burning sensation of pain on his skin, but he couldn’t think of the pain for long because his stomach cramped painfully. Peter gagged and ran towards a trash can that was oddly kept on the top floor of this building, yanking his mask off and hurled into it. His stomach contracted and heaved as he puked into the bin, and spluttered when he was finished.

Peter collapsed against the floor, defeated. He held his pounding head in his hands as it spun rapidly at an alarming rate. He could hear the beating of his heart as he gasped for air, feeling awfully lighthearted and pathetic. Peter felt so weak like this. So useless.

He shivered violently with his rampaging fever, feeling his hands turn to ice and they shook. He felt so fevered and sick. He just wanted to go home and curl into bed. He felt utterly miserable.

Peter had started to wonder why he had even bothered in the first place, beginning to lose himself into this spiralling vortex of dark thoughts and self loathing when suddenly he heard the loud clicking of heels against the pavement, in a hurried, rapid pace.

Peter perked up in alarm, rushing towards the edge of the building so he could see what was going on. Down, he saw a woman hurriedly walk down the street in her club outfit that Peter thought was very nice and flattering on her. He smiled softly, but it was quickly wiped off his face when he saw a small group of drunk, bumbling men trailing after her yelling out horrible slurs.

Peter frowned, descending slightly and sitting down on one of the apartment’s balconies. This woman seemed able to protect herself, so Peter would let her, but he’d be there just in case. Once the men caught sight of him, they began to back off. Peter’s heart melted as the woman looked up at him with a grateful smile. She quickly unlocked the door to her apartment and disappeared into it.

It was then Peter remembered why he did this.

Peter weakly opened the door to the living room, smothering a weak cough against his shoulder when Tony sprang up from his chair and rushed towards him.

“Oh god! Peter! You’re okay..” Tony said breathlessly, a shaky timbre to his voice. His hair was a mess, a little paler, and he looked clearly very shaken up. Peter felt extremely guilty that he had done this to him.

Quickly Tony turned angrier, “Do you know what time it is?! Way past ‘doing a project with Ned’, definitely! Why didn’t you even send a text? Do you know the world you’re living in, Peter?! The world I live in?!”

“Tony–” Peter tried.

“Peter, this world has taken so many people I love!” Tony shouted, before suddenly his face fell and he deflated. He looked so much older. So tired. He sunk against his chair.

“..I don’t want the same to happen to you,” Tony whispered bitterly.

Peter stood shocked, not knowing what to say. He looked around as if his surroundings would give him an answer. Peter sighed eventually, kneeling down on the floor and taking Tony’s hands, so they wouldnt shake.

“I’m so sorry Mr Stark..I didn’t want to worry you..It’s just–my phone ran out of battery and Ned and I–”

“For fuck’s sake, Pete–you went on the patrol. Say it. Don’t lie to me. I hate bullshit.”

Peter gulped, “Y-yeah. Sorry. I did…I’m so sorry. I didn’t want to worry you–it’s just..seeing Hawkeye and the Vision and–”

Tony sighed tiredly, “I know. Peter, you’re a great kid. You don’t have to go proving it all the time. We know.”

Tony cupped his face anxiously, as if to try and reassure himself Peter was still here. He frowned.

“You’re even worse. Go to bed, Pete. Get some sleep and rest. I don’t want you going to school tomorrow.”

Peter sighed and nodded, hating that he was going to break another promise. But Señor Zapanta was going to have his head if he wasn’t there for the test tomorrow.

“Good night Mr Stark,” Peter called out softly as he began to retreat into his bedroom.

“Good night, kiddo,” Tony said quietly, deflated.

Peter gulped as the guilt in his heart intensified, and he went to bed uneasily knowing Tony sat there in the living room like that. And that Peter did this to him.

Peter had left a note for Tony that morning saying he felt a lot better.

He hated lying to him twice, but Peter couldn’t miss school. Jokes on him, karma was a bitch.

All the buses to school were full that morning. And the gases and smoke the cars emitted made Peter cough so much that Peter wanted to vomit then and there. He would’ve if it wasn’t for the literal sea of people at the bus stop. He had waited for a good hour waiting for a bus to actually stop, and when he finally did it was ridiculously packed and full of strange and overpowering odours. It was the most agonising bus experience of his entire life, and Peter felt so nauseous and faint he wanted to crawl up on the floor and cry.

Peter eventually made it to school, 5 minutes before Spanish started. Once he got off the bus he was hit by a huge wave of sickness, and wooziness. He felt incredibly dizzy, stumbling as he walked in zig zag formations. Peter managed to get himself inside the school, when suddenly his stomach cramped and he sprinted towards the closest bathroom. He yanked the doors open and collapsed against a toilet and threw up again, heaving. His stomach hurt from how much he was puking.

Peter doesn’t even remember what happened next, because he’s not quite sure if he even had control of his body. He felt so disconnected from himself and like he was walking aimlessly through this feverish haze. Everything seemed to be fading in and out, he could barely see or hear or feel and all he could think off was the weakness weighing down on his shoulders.

Peter faintly remembered walking into the Spanish classroom, and the horrified looks on the teacher and his classmates’ faces, and then everything seemed to go black and he felt oddly peaceful.

Peter’s not sure what happened after that, but from what Ned told him, what happens shortly after his black out Ned quickly “and totally calmly, I was so cool Peter, let me tell you” phoned Tony to come collect him.

Señor Zapanta carried him over to the nurse’s office which Ned says was very cool and very “Die Hard” esque. Peter disagrees, but Ned’s entitled to that opinion. What happened next, Ned says, was the coolest thing.

So Tony stomped into school like it was nobody’s business, suit and all, walking straight through the sea of gawking, star struck teenagers (particularly Flash–apparently he had to visit the nurse shortly after he passed out) to get straight to Peter. Because that was all that mattered to him.

Peter wished he could have seen that, but he only remembers what happened after Tony’s big catwalk.

Peter remembered waking up to a bright light, and Tony’s concerned face sitting down next to him in some chair.

“M..Mr Stark..?”

Tony’s face instantly broke it’s worried state and fell into a relieved one, allowing in one huge breath with relief, “Oh thank god, Peter!”

Peter had a sudden dose of deja vu when Tony’s happy face contorted into an angry one, just like it had last night.

“I told you not to go to school last night, Peter! What was the point of Aunt May leaving you with me if I can’t even get you to listen?! What’s going on, Peter?! Why can’t you just follow instructions? You had me worried sick this morning, and when your friend called me saying you passed out?! You have no clue what that does to a man, Peter!” Tony scolded.

Upon seeing the guilty, sad, almost frightened look on Peter’s Tony sighed, sinking back into his chair and pinching the bridge of his nose with a heavy sigh.

“Did nothing I say to you last night mean anything? Huh? What the hell was that about? I spill my guts out to you and you go on and do the thing I literally said brings me into panic attacks?” Tony said quietly, deflated.

Tears pricked Peter’s eyes and his lip trembled, feeling immensely guilty and wondering why he was the way he was. He hated that he was like this.

“I-I’m sorry,” Peter managed, feeling a mental block stopping him. But looking into Tony’s sad, tired eyes set him free, “..I guess..I’m not used to other people caring for me this much..I’ve only ever had Aunt May, Ned…”

He trailed off, biting his lip.

“..and Uncle Ben…” Peter whispered, voice cracking, “..and he’s gone now.”

“I-I don’t know M-Mr Stark. I think I’m scared. I…”

Peter smiled shakily, “I’m scared of losing you too.”

Tony’s heart broke, “O-oh Pete..”

Tony went in for a hug and cradled Peter like that, trying his best to fill Peter with as much love and care his heart could possibly muster.

“..I’m really not good at this, I’m so sorry Peter, but I’m trying,” Tony whispered.

“I know you are. And that’s not nothing, Mr Stark. It’s something. That’s all I’ve ever asked for,” Peter whispered lovingly, soaking in the warmth of his embrace.

Tony sniffled as a tear escaped his eye, a soft smile playing on his lips, “Lets go home.”

[philly-osopher]

i didn’t come here to party (i only came for the cake)

So a while back @a-classic-fool and I did a bunch of Great British Bake-Off-inspired Hamilton headcanons, y’know, like you do. This fic was born of that. We continue to have nothing to say for ourselves. No warnings, ft. John Laurens, Elizabeth Schuyler, Alexander Hamilton, and Maria Reynolds.

About ten minutes after the cameras have stopped rolling, John finally stirs from what Lafayette nicknamed the Sprawl of Defeat. Groaning a little as his joints shift—old man knees in his twenties, is there anything in his life that isn’t fucked?—he hauls himself up to face the countertop. The Mistake stares back at him. Just looking at it makes his whole body clench in mortification.

Calm the fuck down, John, he scolds himself. Though going off the rest of the room, he’s not the only one taking this week hard. Alex has long since scrubbed the floury, cocoa powdery mess from his countertop and is now, from the looks of it, trying to strip the varnish off the wood. Maria’s still wiping the tears from her eyes and trying to convince everyone they’re from the jalapeños she unwisely decided to put in her cupcakes. Well, they’d known the judges would be getting harsher as the season went on. Doesn’t quiet the criticisms still echoing in John’s ears.

He doesn’t want to look at the Mistake anymore. With a snarl of frustration, he picks up the display plate and moves to toss the whole thing in the trash.

Another hand appears under the plate, preventing the Mistake from sliding off into the sweet escape of oblivion or, failing that, at least the dump.

“What are you doing, John?”

Of all the people he doesn’t want to talk to right now. Eliza. Eliza, who’s always so sweet and so positive, even to Alex when he’s melting down and pacing the length of the entire tent and chanting directions under his breath so loudly even John wants to slap him. Nobody’s that nice. John doesn’t know what her angle is. Probably playing up the America’s sweetheart thing for the cameras. John much prefers her sister, who is here to dominate and lets everybody know it.

“What does it look like,” he snaps. “I’m throwing it away.”

“But why?”

She’s still blocking his way to the trash can, and as much as his id would like to slam dunk the Mistake in over her outstretched arm, he has a little more self-control than that.

Unfortunately he uses up all his self-control avoiding that temptation, because he answers truthfully. “Because I…it’s just awful. The judges said my flavors were elitist. That my bake was too high-concept for the challenge.”

“And they said mine was boring,” Eliza replies. “Do you know how much that stings? To be called boring?”

John…John honestly doesn’t know. Nobody’s ever called him that. “Okay, one, the idea for the hint of lime to complement the strawberry was brilliant and it’s just a shame they couldn’t taste it. And two…they weren’t calling you boring...just—just your cupcakes. And next week you’ll know to get the lime to come through or whatever and you’ll be interesting.”

“And next week you’ll know to be…a little more populist, I guess,” Eliza says, a smile twitching at the corners of her mouth. “We live and learn.”

“I’ll put bacon in it,” John resolves. “Don’t know what it is yet, but I’ll put bacon in it.”

Eliza laughs. She steps forward, still supporting the Mistake with one hand, and John’s forced to step back until they’re back at his countertop. Gently, Eliza lowers the Mistake back to solid ground.

“What do you see here, John?” she asks.

“Uh… a Mistake.” That’s pretty fucking obvious, isn’t it?

“That’s funny, because I see a tray of cupcakes.”

John rolls his eyes. “Yeah. I made the batter with Earl Grey with extra bergamot with cognac vanilla icing and hint-of-lavender vanilla cream filling…for a fucking cupcake. What was I thinking?”

“You know, kids these days have very refined taste,” Eliza says, absently picking up one of John’s cupcakes. “Simple strawberry doesn’t cut it anymore.”

John laughs.

“And I guess I must be a little elitist myself,” she says, “because I’m going to eat this.”

“It’s you or the trash,” John says, spreading his arms wide, and winces. “I mean. No offense.”

“None taken,” Eliza grins. “This is tasty.”

That lifts John’s spirits. They lift further when Maria drifts over and tries one, too. Because he still feels like punishing himself a little he tries one of hers (more a muffin than a cupcake, I’m afraid, the judge had said, to say nothing of the Scoville rating), but once he gets over the burn… “Damn, Maria. I can’t believe you got this texture with cornflour. And the honey’s really good.”

Maria blushes, lowering her chin modestly until her hair escapes from behind her ear and falls over her face. The camera guys are always on her about that. She startles when Eliza leans over to tuck it back.

Holy fuck, John thinks. The cameras are all off. This girl’s the real thing.

“Sorry,” Eliza murmurs, “I just…”

“Can I try yours?” Maria cuts in. “I actually love strawberries.”

Eventually even Alex joins them, and everybody tries everybody else’s cupcakes. The chocolate in Alex’s is so intense it makes John break out in a sweat (the judges had called his too close-textured), although Maria and Eliza heap praise on them.

But the fact of the matter is that they each made 36 cupcakes, and there are only four of them left in the tent: Angelica’s been whisked off to do her triumphant interview and Burr’s already packed up his things and left the tent for the last time in stoic silence.

(It’s clear that your technical foundation is solid, one judge had said, but it’s not quite clear to me, in the broader sense, that you know what you’re doing here. And John, at the next table over, had felt a cold flood of anxiety down his spine.)

“What are we gonna do with all these?” Maria asks, gesturing at the rows—and, in Alex’s case, pyramids—of cupcakes before them. She’s found the bottle of cognac and the four of them are passing it between them, taking deep swigs to drown their lingering nerves.

“There’s a soup kitchen just around the corner from here where I volunteer,” Eliza says. “I’m sure they’d love to have them.”

“Oh, shit, you were playing the long game,” John blurts. He… he maybe was hitting the cognac a little earlier, too. Everyone else ignores him. “Knew you had some devion in you. Devi—devnessious.”

“Wow,” Alex says, giving Eliza a moon-eyed look. “You volunteer at a soup kitchen?”

Someone’s easily impressed, John thinks. Eliza at least has the decency to look embarrassed.

“I know that soup kitchen,” Maria puts in.

“Oh, wow, do you volunteer too? I haven’t seen you!” Eliza beams.

Maria turns red. “I… I haven’t gone lately. Anyway. It’s a great idea.”

“So we’re going?” Alex asks.

John’s already piling cupcakes, with limited success. He tries to make a pyramid of Maria’s, but one of them topples to the ground.

“God fucking—”

“Five second rule!” Maria, Eliza, and Alex all cry at once, and dive for it simultaneously. Eliza and Alex bump heads, both staggering back, but Maria’s the victor: she scoops the muffin up practically before it hits the floor and stuffs it into her mouth in one swoop. She rights herself, chipmunk cheeks bulging, her expression pure triumph, and before John knows it he’s laughing, and laughing and laughing, and staggering against the countertop to support himself, and laughing and laughing, and sliding slowly down the countertop to the floor, and laughing and laughing with tears streaming down his face, and laughing and hiccuping and giggling and gasping for breath in a pile on the floor.

“Oh, fuck, my abs,” he says, once he’s recovered a little. The others are all standing in a circle around him; Alex is filming on his phone. “You guys, I really needed that.”

“So did I,” says Eliza, once Maria’s managed to swallow her enormous mouthful of cake and Eliza’s stopped laughing long enough to stand upright again.

“Me too,” Alex adds, snapping his phone shut and sliding it into his pocket. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ve gotta go figure out how to thoroughly kick all your asses next week.”

“Put that video on the internet,” says Maria, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand. “I want to rewatch it whenever I need to remember what utter absurdity looks like.”

But despite the reminder that they’re all in competition, everyone’s still grinning. They untie their floury aprons and gather their cupcakes before stepping out of the tent and into the soft summer sun. They’re giddy with cognac and laughter, hearts light, and the criticism echoing in the back of John’s head is, at least for now, quiet enough to ignore.

[slayercordelia]

Omg, number 24 for the bellarke prompts please!!!!

gosh, the twenties are quite popular aren’t they :) thank you so much for sending in this request it makes me so happy !!!

24 - “you’re the only one i trust to do this.”

It was nine thirty-five on a Monday morning when Bellamy Blake got a call from Clarke Griffin.

He was greeted by a cough, sniffle and “I’m sick!”

“Well I would offer to look up your symptoms on WebMD but it seems all that knowledge from the half of your pre-med course you actually did take have helped you work it out yourself,” he said, smiling cockily, he was pretty proud of that little burn.

“Ha, ha!” she coughed out in a dull, unamused monotone. “Well I’m sure that brilliant fully completed history degree you got there will really come in handy when I get all the good articles and you end up writing, yet again, about Mrs. Smith across the road’s terrible disdain for modern technology. I’d love to see you put yet another spin on that one,” she grumbled back.

Being sick may have made her sniffly but it in no way deminished her ability to completely and utterly destroy him.

“Ouch, did you call for any reason other than to make me feel bad about all my life decisions up until this point?” he asked, tapping his pen on the desk.

“Not all, I did like that one decision you made last week when you got me a coffee on Thursday morning, that one was nice,” she said in joking contemplativeness.

“It was buy one get one free, Clarke.”

“Okay, well whatever. I’m calling because I kind of need you to cover my Person of Interest interview for me today?” she asked reluctantly. He could practically see her wincing on the other end.

“Claaaarke-” he groaned, tipping his head back in his seat, but he didn’t get a chance to launch into a full grumble-rant. She knew the tell-tale signs by now, and how to avoid at all costs.

“Look, I know this isn’t ideal I get it you have a life too surprisingly enough, but you’re the only one I trust to do this. Please Bellamy,” she whined, a sound made ten times more unbearable than usual with her croaky throat.

He sighed loudly so he knew she could hear it. “Are you sure there’s no-one else?” he asked, strained.

He knew there was nobody else in this office she was willing to even contemplate giving such a responsibility to. She trusted him and him alone, they were a set, the ‘wonder twins’ as their Editor-in-Chief Marcus Kane liked to say.

“Oh, yeah, and allow our resident “Cheech and Chong” impersonators Jasper and Monty double-team the youngest CEO in the history of the city?” she exclaimed incredulously. “Seriously! Think about it! There’s a reason the two of them have been banned from doing a Person of Interest interview ever again, even individually!”

It was a funny image, and he did let out a few chuckles while playing out the scenario in his head. They were talking about the same two guys that had asked the Mayor if he had got divorced because of his apparent gay affair with the Seahawks coach on the grounds that ‘the people wanted to know’. THE MAYOR! They were lucky he thought it was a joke about their friendship and didn’t truly understand quite what they were getting at. The idea of letting them talk to a professional businessman at all after the bollocking they received was enough to make even Roan smile slightly.

“Okay, but are you really sure it has to be me? There’s really nobody else?” he asks, biting his lip.

“Nobody but you Bell, it has to be you, you’re the only one I can count on,” she said and he didn’t even try to hide the beam on his face (of course, if she could see him, it would have been more of a small contemplative grin because of course he didn’t care whether she depended on him alone or not).

“Besides,” she started, “it could get all 50 Shades you know, young CEO, she’s attractive too. Oooh, but wait you have to be okay with bondage because otherwise it could be a deal-breaker,” she chuckled lightly which came out as more of a crackle through his shitty phone.

“Ha ha!” he replied monotonously like she had done.

“I’m serious!” she giggled, “you could meet the Christina Grey to your Andrew Steele.”

“Well I’m glad the tapes of my kinky interview with your sex-fiend CEO will bring you great pleasure to listen back on.”

“So is that a yes?!” she squealed and he moved the phone away from his ear.

“That’s a yes Griffin, I’ll have the tapes on your desk tomorrow morning,” he sighed, smile still prominent.

“Gosh! Thank you so much! You’re a life saver!” The relieved grin was pretty much audible.

“Oh, and Clarke,” he started, smug smile now slapped across his face, “I would have done it as soon as you asked. It’s just nice to know that I’m ‘the only one you trust’ and ‘the only one you can count on’.”

“You bastard!” she laugh coughed.

“So you leave your big profile in my apparently extremely dependable hands and then call me a bastard? That’s not very polite.”

“I’m hanging up now!”

“See you tomorrow Griffin.”

“Later Blake.”

Around four hours and ten episodes of The Office later, there was a knock on Clarke’s door. She groaned as she pushed herself up from her sofa and pulled her duvet tighter around her shoulders.

“I swear to god if you’re trying to sell me more cookies this isn’t going to end well!” she shouts, unbolting the door.

There, in her doorway, holding a red container and a tape recorder was none other than Bellamy Blake.

“Sorry, I think girl scouting ended last week, but can I interest you in a tape recording of a particularly saucy interview I just partook in?” he grins.

She groans, rubbing her eyes. Yup, he was still there. “What the hell are you doing here?”

“You’re sick so… I brought you soup! My mum always made me leek and potato soup when I was ill, and I always made it for Octavia. Guaranteed recovery within a day, the Blakes swear by it,” he keeps flashing her that winning smile.

“You brought me soup?!” She chuckles slightly in disbelief and there’s a smile on her face, the kind that only comes with the overwhelming surge of appreciation when those you care about care for you. And it doesn’t go unnoticed by Bellamy.

“Well, the soup and the interview, I thought you’d want to review this footage immediately,” he grinned like he was telling a joke she wasn’t supposed to understand just yet, “oh, and also, the soup’s cone cold. Turns out I don’t actually own a flask.”

He holds out what he brought her and instead of taking them she widens her door, “Well since you went to all this effort to get this to me, you should get to enjoy the miracle soup too. The stove’s in the kitchen, I trust you can reheat it yourself? I’m simply too ill,” she grins, coughing for dramatic effect. He half-sighs through his smile as he steps through her doorframe and over to her kitchen.

“Of course, I’d never want to put you out of your way Princess.”

She turns on the cooker for him and hops onto one of the barstools around the surface in the middle of her kitchen.

“Well… you were right,” he says, pouring the soup into a pan.

“Hmmmnn, I usually am but about so many things, you’re going to have to be more specific,” she says, tracing spirals on the counter top.

“The CEO,” he says, like he really doesn’t want to have to elaborate.

“Still lost here Cryptic Christopher, if you hadn’t noticed I’m slightly ill and my brain isn’t working at it’s usual capacity.”

“She hit on me,” he says with a slightly embarrassed chuckle of disbelief. He had his back to her so she just had to imagine the blush on his cheeks (it wasn’t difficult).

Clarke’s so stunned her head snaps up and she actually has a coughing fit, “No way!”

“I know,” he said, scratching his neck with his free non-stirring hand.

“Well, what did she say? What did you say? Was she nice? Is there a future? Shall I start the wedding plans?” she questions, bewildered with a touch of… something.

“I’m not giving you any spoilers, you just gotta listen to the tapes,” he teased.

“Oh, Blake, come on you can’t do that to me!” Now it’s her turn to grumble.

“Oh, Griffin, yes I can,” he mocks. “All I’m saying is… there’s a higher comedic value if you listen to it without any prior knowledge.”

“Oh God, that bad?”

“No spoilers!”

“I can’t wait!” she grins, the grip of the something gone.

“Careful with that,” he almost scolds, pointing at the spoon full of soup in her hand once he’d served it up into two bowls, “you gotta blow on it before you put it on your mouth, it’s too hot otherwise.”

“That’s what she said,” she states proudly and bursts into laughter.

He gives her a disbelieving smile which makes her laugh even more. “You… are two years old. Are you sure this cold hasn’t got serious neurological repercussions?”

“Sorry, it’s The Office, I’ve been rewatching it all day. There was nothing else to do.”

The disbelieving grin intensifies.

“So you mean to tell me that while I’ve been slaving away doing all your dirty work like a bitchboy, you’ve been sat on your ass watching Michael Scott make an idiot out of himself over and over again.”

“Maybe?” she says, more like a guilty rhetorical question, stirring her soup.

“Well that is just not acceptable, which Jim prank are we on now?” Bellamy asks, looking over at the screen and picking up his bowl to move to the sofa.

She follows him, filling him in on where she’s at and bringing the pan of soup to the coffee table.

It feels natural. Her and him, him and her. Sat in the middle of her beaten leather sofa reciting iconic lines, eating magical soup, comparing the characters to their own unbelievable colleagues (Miller was a definite Stanley). It’s comfortable, like they should have been doing this all along, and when Wells slams the front door shut as he gets home from work and she wakes up with her head on his shoulder and his hand resting loosely round her shoulder it doesn’t feel uncomfortable at all. Which is saying something because Bellamy Blake is possibly the most awkward person she’s ever met.

And after he leaves when he sees the time she feels a little better than before.

But we’ll credit that to Blake’s miracle soup.

read more of these two idiots working together here

hit me up with a number (or if you’re feeling extra funky, come up with your own prompt) and i’ll write you a hopefully satisfactory co-worker drabble :)))