#this shit isn’t even taking us back to the 1950s we are like well into the 1800s here

[marvelsmostwanted]

January 16, 2025:

January 29 & February 4, 2025:

January 31 & February 4, 2025:

Hmmmm

[dalliancekay]

Aziraphale, misogyny and the female character treatment

I don't know if anyone wrote a post about this but I see from time to time comments to this end - that Aziraphale is treated like the female leads in films often are, obviously especially romantic films. So I'm gonna try to point how I see this. I welcome further insights of course.

Say we take a basic premise of a romantic film: A girl is wooed by a bad boy for example. And she is a good girl, from a good, proper family and everything so she refuses his advances. This goes on through his various ploys to entertain and romance her, do things for her etc etc and frustrates us as the audience because we can see the bad boy is actually good, her family is oppressive and holding her back and that she (deep down) cares for him (if only she was brave enough to admit it to herself) and so we want her to open her eyes and say she is actually in love with him cos her life will be so much better should she (finally) give in and run away with him.

Familiar? Reasons Aziraphale is not her and the analogy does not fit (but that I so often see in metas and takes about her):

Aziraphale always knew her family is shit. Or at least longer than Crowley did. She was already anxious in Before the Beginning about what she thought Angel!Crowley could and could not say or do without getting into trouble.

She knows Crowley is good. She never doubted him. Whatever he says or does or pretends to do or must do for his job. Aziraphale knows he's inherently good and would always do good if he can.

She knows she's in love - I mean we can argue about when each realised this and also when each realised the other loves them back just as fiercely, but they both know. And they both love. And they both long to be together. Aziraphale is not ashamed of her feelings nor hiding or suppressing them for fear they are wrong or immoral or other BS like that.

Aziraphale doesn't need to overcome her love for her family/employer and finally make the leap to be with Crowley. They simply can't leave their bosses without punishment. Neither of them. They live in a dictatorship with nowhere to go. And just because Crowley experienced both sides, doesn't give him some huge insight that Aziraphale completely lacks. Both places are awful. Their separation isn’t about fear of societal judgment (or Aziraphale's unwillingness to give up Heaven, being seen as good, being an angel - and to what end, to Fall? I really don't know what takes like this want from her, it would not work anyway), it’s about survival in a system that won’t let them be together.

Aziraphale doesn't want to change Crowley. She never did. She asked for Crowley to come to Heaven as an angel because that was THE ONLY option she had for them to be together in any capacity at that point. It was NOT an attempt to “fix” him—it was a desperate bid for a way they could be together at all.

One thing I don't see as much anymore is the call for Aziraphale to change. Obviously she's pretty but she would be prettier if she lost those century old clothes maybe and started listening to something made after 1950? Be more cool to match Crowley? Less stuffy?

These kind of film premises are already pointless, offensive and make me roll my eyes, but to stick them all over Aziraphale and huff cos she doesn't do what the clever sexy man in dark clothes and sunglasses says she should - well that makes me angry.

And so do takes and mischaracterisations that ignore Aziraphale as silly, her worries as pointless, sometimes excessive - maybe she's just hysterical, you know? The one time she shows more emotion, in F15, she is so often completely ignored in her obvious distress just because Crowley is trying to confess his love at the same time and seemingly 'not getting through,' because Aziraphale is not reacting the way everyone expects. So many takes that always assume Crowley is right, no matter what. Even when he calls Aziraphale an idiot. If Crowley says that, it must be true. No matter that the book spells out in Terry's voice that the angel is extremely clever.

Aziraphale’s charm lies in her kindness, her love for books and knowledge, her whimsy, and her quiet courage. These qualities don’t make her naive—they make her resilient. She often hides how she truly feels, hides her grief, her pain, her true desires, hides what she really thinks; always always to protect herself and her beloved. She is often forced to say stuff she doesn't mean. Again. To keep the one she loves and their fragile relationship safe. But where people seem to catch on with that on Crowley's side, they don't with Aziraphale. She is fierce when pushed and will defend the defenceless (humans) and the ones she loves (Crowley) to her last breath (whether she needs to breathe is irrelevant right now okay).

She loves her bookshop. She built this home, full of knowledge for herself and her demon and you can take this HC from my cold hands. That she was forced to leave it, only emphasises how little choice she had in Final 15. Good Omens has two main, equal characters; who are both gorgeous and complex and deep and neither is right or wrong or in need of saving or learning some huge lesson to get to their goal and be together. What needs to change is the world, the system they live in. And they will change it.

Just look at her!! Anyway. I love her. P.S. Just to add, many, many (if not all) bad takes on Aziraphale are also bad takes on Crowley. They mischaracterise and misunderstand just how deeply and unconditionally he loves Aziraphale. How he adores her and understands and accepts her just as she is. He does not expect or want Aziraphale to change in any way. He knows why they are not together. And it's not Aziraphale's fault, it's because of circumstances, not because of her choices. Crowley would never ever want Aziraphale to suffer, he wouldn't expect her to come back from Heaven saying how sorry she is for what happened, how stupid and blind she was and how he was always right. That's just not going to happen. ------------------------------------------ @tenok I simply must highlight the awesomeness you put in hashtags!! EVERYBODY please read:

Thank you sm for this!!

[harlowtales]

Jack finds the love of his life who has never been kissed…or anything else 😘

♥️💝♥️

18+ Adult Themes - Romance/Drama/Sex

“Jack stop.” You said, unsure where this was going. You had never kissed anyone let alone had sex. It was time to say something before things went too far. You were saving it for the right person…your husband, and a rapper was definitely not it. You shouldn’t even have taken his invitation to go to the movies but Jack seemed very sweet and down to earth. You figured there was no harm in a movie, but it was going too fast. His hands were starting to go places. You were in the back of an old theatre watching an Alfred Hitchcock movie as they were Jack’s favourite movies.

“Y/N what’s wrong? I thought we were feeling each other” Jack said confused as he sat back.

“Well right here…right now was my first kiss. Jack I…I’m a virgin.” There was no other way than to just tell him. Your palms were sweating and your heart was beating so loudly you thought the whole empty theatre could hear it.

“Say on god.” Jack said in shock

“Swear to god.” You said earnestly “I’m sorry. Can you take me home?”

“If I ruined everything I’m so sorry Y/N.” Jack apologized “I will absolutely take you home if that’s what you really want.”

“I feel so stupid. I usually know better than to waste the time of someone like you. I mean, you’re Jack Harlow. Of course you want to…well you know.” You said in embarrassment.

“Right here, I can tell you I would fucking marry you if I knew it wouldn’t scare the shit out of you.” Jack said in disbelief that he had found a 24 year old virgin. “If you let me be the first, I will be your only.”

“Jack please. I need to go.” All you wanted to do was escape this moment. You weren’t prepared for wanting to do it with him in that movie theatre and that scared you. Jack was incredibly handsome and charming. He was intelligent and funny, tall and distinguished. Everything you ever dreamed of in a man was all in him. You had to get away from him as soon as humanly possible.

You pulled up in front of your parent’s house and your dad instantly peeled the living room curtains back to make sure you didn’t hang out too long in Jack’s car. Jack had to actually introduced himself to your father and ask to take you out in the first place. He saw you with your family at an event his mother put on for charity and knew he had to shoot his shot. Your dad insisted on him coming to the house and properly introducing himself first. It felt like the 1950’s but he appreciated it. Now you being a virgin was all starting to make sense.

“Ughh. He’s literally going to stare at us until I’m in the door. You better walk me to the door or he’ll think you weren’t raised right.” You cautioned.

“Y/N it’s all fine.” Jack laughed “I ain’t going away so pops better get used to me.”

“What? You mean, this isn’t the end?” You said in surprise.

“Why would it be? Cuz I got bitches on speed dial?” Jack said characteristically raising an eyebrow. “If you let me be your first, you would be my only girl. Anything else I had going on would be done for me. Let me make it special for you Y/N.” Jack put a soft hand on your thigh.

You felt a heat rising in you that you never felt before. “Jack call me um…call me later. I have to go. He’s watching us. Open my car door, walk me to the door. Don’t hold my hand. Don’t kiss me on the cheek. Say goodnight to him and shake his hand. Got it?” You said giving Jack the cheat code to dealing with your strict parents.

After some weeks Jack kept calling and spending time with you whenever he could. He FaceTimed you from his European tour and it was no pressure. He never even mentioned sex. You started to think you not putting out had caused him to lose interest in you romantically and it was just turning into a friendship. Jack wanted you more and more, he just didn’t want to scare you away so he was being patient.

The tour was over and he was finally back home. He knew he had to ease you into thinking he was the right one to lose your virginity with. He decided to go to your house and approach your parents about dating you seriously. If that’s what it took that’s what he was willing to do.

Jack was sweating he was so nervous. Your parents came into the living room with just the clock ticking in the background.

“So Y/N tells me you want to date her.” Your dad said

“I know you’re strict. I want to respect that.” Jack said seriously. You were sitting across from him as sitting on the same couch would not have been deemed appropriate by your parents.

“Very protective.” Your mother chimed in “Why does someone in your line of work want to date my daughter?”

“My line of work? You mean a rapper?” Jack said with a tinge of sass. You shot him a look to chill.

“Yes. Entertainment is not for our girl.” Your dad said

“Well I would make sure she’s always with me and protected. I’m very protective as well. You can ask my family that I’m very close too.” Jack explained.

“She can date on a few conditions. She has to check in with us and no sex before marriage. Do you intend on marrying her or is she just one of your many girls?” Your mother asked embarrassing you.

Jack started turning red partly from embarrassment and partly from getting a bit upset. He was sure he would propose at some point or he would have left your house from this grilling by your parents.

“I know I have a reputation but I have intentions of marrying your daughter as soon as she’s ready.” Jack said. A lump formed in his throat. He wasn’t planning on saying that but it came out and he wasn’t sorry. The silence that followed was amplified by the ticking clock.

“Is anyone going to ask me what I want? Do I matter?” You said raising your voice. “I am 24 mom, dad, come on! I’m a grown woman! I’ve done everything you wanted my whole life. I want to date Jack…I will date Jack.”

“Y/N! Really? Hunny you see? He’s influenced her already!” Your father said to your mother like Jack wasn’t there.

“How rude! Jack is right here.” You said

“Y/N please your parents are right. Maybe I should go.” Jack said making s move to leave.

“I’m coming.” You said defiantly

“Walk out the door and don’t come back.” Your dad said.

“Oh fine with me.” You huffed.

“Y/N these are your parents. Please, listen to them.” Jack pleaded with you much to your parent’s surprise.

“Well Jack. Son. I’m impressed with you.” Your dad said “I approve, but talk some sense into her.”

“Will do sir. She’s safe with me.” Jack said assuredly

“What was that? I thought you were on my side?” You said haughtily as you left with Jack to go for a drive.

“I fucking got my hands full.” Jack murmured

“Excuse me?” You said like a spoiled brat.

“Listen princess let’s get one thing straight ok?” Jack said heading away from the park.

“Jack where are we going?” You asked concerned

“Shush for fuck sakes.” Jack said rolling his eyes with a slight giggle

You pulled into the parking of a building and headed into an elevator. When the doors opened to a sprawling condo you realized he had taken you to his penthouse apartment. “Get comfy cuz this is where you’ll probably wind up with your attitude. Geez I feel sorry for your parents. Hungry?”

“Ummm yes. Yes please Jack. Thank you.” You said instantly more polite.

“That’s better.” Jack said kissing you on the forehead. “I want this place to be your place but you have to behave.”

“Ok sir Jack sir!” You said saluting him and laughing.

“Oh yeah? You getting cheeky?” Jack said towering over you. You were like a magnet for him. He pulled you close into a passionate kiss. Your space ached like you had never felt. You longed to be his in every way.

“Y/N I can take you home if…” but you cut Jack off with another deep kiss to his amazement “Take me.” You said looking him right in the eye.

“Y/N come on…” but you pulled Jack towards his bedroom.

“Now? You sure?” He said cautiously

“Please Jack. I need you.” You said in agony

“Baby…I’m scared. I don’t want to hurt you.” He said caressing your hair.

“I know it will hurt but if not now…when?” You reasoned looking up at him.

“Y/N there’s no rush. I meant it. I will marry you.” Jack promised, knowing he was caving in fast. You had a hold on him that was undeniable.

“Come.” He commanded as he sat on the bed and opened his legs for you to stand in front of him. You obeyed and went closer.

He began going up your shirt, fondling your breasts and kissed your bare stomach. You threw back your head and moaned. You saw Jack growing and reached down to touch him but he stopped your hand.

“No. I…I’m sorry Y/N this doesn’t feel right. I’ll take you back.” Jack said. In his mind it was going to happen so differently. He brought you to his place for you to start getting comfortable there. He was used to being around you…wanting you and not being able to really be inside you, he was the one that was hesitant now, and how crazy and special would it be for him to marry a virgin. “We’re not married. This isn’t right.” He couldn’t imagine the looks on your parent’s faces if they found out.

“Are you kidding me? They got to you. They fucking got to you. Wait….you’re not into me anymore are you? I knew it. It felt like a friendship last little while. I should have known.” You burst into tears “I’m not model gorgeous and exciting like what you’re used to.”

“Baby…no no no I have never been in love until now. Did you know that?” Jack said looking at you as you sat on his lap now. “I am very attracted to you. Don’t worry.”

“Then make love to me….Please Jack.” You said softly drawing him into a kiss.

“Ok, I…ok.” He said unable to refuse any longer. You pulled your shirt off over your head and stepped out of your jeans. He was in awe of how perfectly your breasts hung and the curve of your body. “I can’t believe I’m the first to ever see all this and touch you…be inside you.” Jack breathed overcome with emotion.

He gently laid you down kissing and caressing your body. You gasped having never felt such sensations. “Oh god Jack.”

There was no turning back now. He had waited so long.

“It hurts too much and I’m stopping ok?” Jack said lovingly. You nodded in agreement under him, drinking in his aroma and feeling his chest. He tried not to put his full weight on you as your legs opened to take him in. He tested your space dipping in with the head only and pulling back. It was such a foreign feeling you held your breath from the pressure slowly pressing into you.

“You ok?” He asked as he hovered over you about to re-enter a little more.

“Put it all the way in. I’m ok.” You assured him

“We can just play with each other baby. We don’t have to do this all the…” Jack was trying to say

“Can you please just…I want to feel all of you.” You said a bit frustrated and anxious

“Ok baby. Hold onto me ok?” Jack cautioned. He was beyond excited but had to contain himself for your comfort. He held his shaft steadily as he guided it in carefully. You were wet with anticipation but it still was painful. You tried to hide it as much as possible to not make Jack feel bad, but he saw the look on your face and paused afraid to stroke in and out. One thing for sure, your future husband was gifted and it would take getting used to.

“Oh, uhhh, oh my god.” You breathed unable to make sense of the new pain and slight pleasure you were starting to feel as Jack slowly glided partially out and slid back in.

“Ah fuck you feel good baby.” He said breathlessly in your ear. “I’ve waited for this moment” Jack was poised on top of you and concentrating on being as gentle as possible as he went in further and further. Tears started welling up in your eyes with a burning pain radiating through your abdomen and legs as he picked up some speed and put more weight behind his thrusts. You held onto him tightly unable to really move.

After a few moments he suddenly cried out “Uh Y/N!! Baby” You felt your flesh tear apart inside and a warm sensation run down your thighs. There was blood on the sheets from your hymen popping. You were mortified.

“Oh my god Jack!” You exclaimed in tears. He immediately stopped and headed to the bathroom to start the shower and bring you a towel. He wiped you up lifted you off the bed and carried you to the shower. He held you from behind, his arms supporting you as he sung a Bryson Tiller song gently. His smooth melodic voice amplified in the shower filled you with warmth as the pain started to subside.

He wrapped you in a towel and held your hand to his closet where he dressed you in his shorts and hoodie. He combed your hair for you and settled you on the couch. After grabbing you a snack he went to strip the bed sheets and ran back to snuggle with you.

“Are you ok baby?” He asked sweetly “Do you need anything else?”

“Jack please just relax with me. Thank you for looking after me.” You said tiredly. It had been a rollercoaster of emotions your stomach ached, your space hurt, and your legs were like jello. He snuck in behind you and you rested on him as he covered both of you in a blanket.

“After all that you get the remote Mrs. Harlow…this one time ok?” He joked. You giggled snuggling up to him and falling asleep.

@itsyagirljaz @okaaay-mice

[liminalmemories21]

Fuck It Friday

tagged by @jesuisici33.

Apparently I'm just using this tag as a way to post outtakes.

This is a deleted/rewritten from Knave 2 that eventually became "Then - 7 Months Ago (August)". The two bear almost no resemblance to each other, but it was the same idea of TK's past coming back to haunt him. Also, I'm still kind of playing around with the idea of what exactly Carlos's colleagues think of him, and more specifically him and TK.

“Am I a problem for you?”  TK asks suddenly.

And it feels like such a non sequitur that he’s lost.  “What?”

“At the station, am I a problem for you?”

“What did this guy say to you?”

TK shrugs, “Nothing that wasn’t true, and that’s fine when it’s me.  My sins, my penance.”

“How very Catholic of you,” Carlos says dryly, on autopilot, trying to find the plot thread to this conversation.

TK smiles briefly, but the smile drops away again almost instantly.  "The guy who taught me how to grift, he told me once that you have to get out of the game as soon as you have something you aren’t willing to lose."

And he’s not following, and feels stupid.  TK gives him an unhappy look.  “I thought I’d done it right.  I got clean.  I got out.  But it’s always going to follow me around, I just don’t want it to follow you around too.”

He reaches out, and then stops just shy of touching TK, not sure if he’s welcome.  “I think I’m going to need an actual verb at some point.”

“I’ve heard people talking, at the station, when I drop something off, or if I meet you there.”

“Who?” he asks sharply.  “Garvey?  Because Garvey’s a dick to everyone who isn’t a middle aged white guy.”

TK frowns, “No, not Garvey, although that kind of proves my point.”

“TK seriously, can you start at the beginning and just keep going until the end so I can figure out what the hell is going on?”

TK looks up, startled.  “Shit.  I’ve never actually seen you lose your patience.”  He glances at his watch.  “That took what, eight months?  That has to be a record for me.”

He gives in to exasperation and worry and tugs TK over to the couch and pulls him down.  “TK.”

TK’s smile is brief and humorless.  “Massey - the guy on the our Board - he said he’d been talking about the program over dinner, mentioned my name.  Next day his brother-in-law stopped by his office with a bunch of stories about me - true stories as it happens, although I’m not sure he cared a lot about asking that question.  He said he’d brought it up with Tanya who was,” he makes air quotes, “‘woefully naive’, so it was his responsibility as a Board member to keep an eye on me.”  He waves a hand, “which, whatever, as long as he doesn’t try and get me fired I don’t actually care.”

“But?”

TK blows out a breath, “But then he mentioned you.  Said he’d heard that we were involved.  Said that was the kind of thing that didn’t reflect well on young detective,” he scowls, “dude seriously talked like he was an 80 year old out of Dickens’ novel.”  He flicks a glance at Carlos.  “He said, it was the kind of thing that made people think twice about coming for backup.”

Carlos takes a steadying breath.  “Okay, sweetheart, this is what’s been tying you up in knots?”  TK nods, frowning.  “I’m gay, Tejano, and a legacy hire.  People thought twice about coming for backup a long time before I started dating you.”

TK flashes him a wry smile.  “You’re saying I should get over myself?”

He snorts, “I’m saying that I know who to trust and who not to, and none of that is a calculus that’s changed in the last eight months.  And, even if it had, I still wouldn’t give you up for it.”

“I can’t be the reason you get hurt,” TK says seriously.

“Off the top of my head I can think of five people at the station you might have overheard saying shitty things about me.  They’ve been saying them since I got there.  I worked hard for my job, and I earned it whatever anyone else might think.  And, I’m not giving it up because someone who's living in a fantasy of the 1950s doesn't want me there, and I'm sure as hell not giving you up for them."

“How do you go to work every day if you think that?”

He looks at TK with a straight face, “Well it helps that I’m 99.9% sure that I’m having much better sex than they are.”

TK gapes at him for a moment, and then shoves him, hard and he topples back into the sofa cushions laughing.  “This is your idea of being comforting?”

He straightens up, and reaches for TK’s hand with less hesitation this time.  “I think I can’t change anyone’s opinion by willing it, all I can do is live up to my own expectations for myself and hope that they can respect that.  Giving up someone I love, because someone tells me to, I couldn’t respect myself if I did that, so how can I ask someone else to respect me?”

TK looks at him seriously.  “I think you’re giving other people too much credit, but it’s working in my favor so I’m not gonna argue too hard.”

tagging anyone who has outtakes they want to share, because like anyone who grew up with DVD blooper reels, I love me an extra.

[botanical-garden-system]

Honestly, this post is going to be a lot about system tropes and stereotypes in shows.

Today I finished watching the show “Ratched” about Nurse Ratched. It was an amazing show- I personally loved it and I loved the color palette that was used. Everything was going quite well until,,, they dropped someone who had DID into the mix.

In case you haven’t watched the show and plan on it, there will be spoilers below!

Every other disorder was not portrayed in extremes, and there was even a scene where the doctor called out Ratched’s “brother” for acting wayy too close to the books of how someone with schizophrenia would act to be seen as “insane.”

Since the show was based in 1940s-1950s, I appreciated that even though they used accurate historical depictions of how ppl treated being gay, they made it CLEAR that this was morally horrible and incorrect.

They did not even ATTEMPT the same thing with someone having DID.

We first get introduced to the character “Charolette Wells” who Dr. Hanover said has “multiple personality disorder” because of her switching between different characters.

Even her introduction made me cringe and seize up with absolute fucking distaste. She is introduced as Ondine Duquette, who harassed an artist for playing a violin and acted aggressive. Charolette, however, was very shy and closed in (she was also treated as the,, “core” basically- which was kind of how they approached DID back then so I kind of tried to shrug it off)

It got even more frustrating when it was ONE session with Dr. Hanover and suddenly she was “cured.” Like Charolette had all control, the “violent alter” was gone, and she was suddenly relieved of her trauma??? BECAUSE OF HYPNOSIS???? I literally held my face in absolute disgust over this shit and this isn’t even the WORST part.

Fast forward to later: Dr. Hanover leaves the hospital because of his past and takes Charolette with her. Well. He pushes her into a trigger again—which I will give the show credit for, I am glad they didn’t stick with the bandaid solution of ONE SESSION of therapy magically making years of trauma go away—and it forces Ondine out again. Who. Also believed Dr. Hanover was. Hitler and that she was killing Hitler…???

So obviously she. Decides to murder Dr. Hanover- which we see Charolette wake up to this in obvious horror bc she doesn’t remember what happened. It just gets worse.

Then later, she comes BACK to the fucking hospital AS Dr. Hanover and she kills one nurse while forcing the OTHER nurse to release the fucking murderer??? After that, she (It’s so unclear who the alter is fronting at the time bc there’s a lot of time switching) literally teams up with this murderer and follows him around killing people????

Onto the rant I wanted to discuss…

This is by far not the first nor last time we have seen this.

We have seen this in popular media that many people like—like fucking danganronpa, where this character loves to use the R slur and be actively racist.

It is an obsession of demonizing mental illness once again. It sucks because now knowing we experience DID makes this trope even harder to enjoy medias with. I love studying psychology, and I already cringe at the absolute bullshit they throw out and label certain disorders. I don’t know why though, but seeing media portrayals around schizophrenia and DID just make my blood boil and anger me to the extra mile.

We are the victims. We are the ones violence is forced on.

Why is it such a fucking obsession??? Honestly, blaming other systems for being the reason we aren’t “taken seriously” is extremely misdirected and false. WE WERE BEING BLAMED FROM THE START!!!

Anyway, I wanted to get this off my chest because it made me fucking mad and it’s also useful for any system who is uncomfortable with this show now because of its decisions.

[soulmate-game]

Not related to the other two Bio!mom Harley AUs that I did. Just... similar. I wrote this instead of sleeping, as per the usual.

—*—*—*—*—*

“I need your help.”

No accent, no threats of violence, no beating around the bush (figurative or otherwise). No fighting or unconscious bodies.

Just Harley Quinn with her hair down, no makeup, and completely serious, in the center of the Bat Cave. Even though her usual exaggerated Brooklynn accent (circa 1950s) had become a pretty inseparable part of her personality over the years, every now and then she forcibly stuffed it down and used her mostly unaccented voice. The one reminiscent of days with less colors on her face, a high bun, and a pristine white lab coat.

Every single one of the Bats and Birds present, fresh from an interrupted patrol thanks to her, could count the number of times they had seen Harley like this on one hand. Bruce would have the most recollections, but everyone else would have plenty of fingers left on said hand. So they all knew, especially when Bruce willingly pulled down his cowl so he could look Harley in the eye, that this was the start of something they were not likely to forget. And maybe their chances of survival were slim too.

“Harley,” Bruce’s voice was still gruff, seeing as he was still mostly Batman at the moment, but his eyes were soft. “Maybe you should tell us what you need help with first. And sit down. You look exhausted.”

Sure enough, there were dark circles under Harley’s eyes. She let Bruce-man lead her over to one of their debriefing tables and sit her down. She let out a huge sigh, her fingers tangling in her loose blond locks.

“I have a confession, and it isn’t gonna leave this cave, capiche?” The slight return of her accent relieved a little of the tension, but not much. Taking this as their cue, the rest of the bats spread out into their usual seats at the table. Bruce stayed near Harley, keeping a hand on her shoulder in silent support. Harley didn’t continue talking until he gave her a solemn nod in agreement. She gulped— an action that immediately returned the tension.

“... fifteen years ago, back when I was still with Joker, I disappeared off the Gotham scene for a few months. I’m sure a few of you remember,” she looked up, and a couple of the older vigilantes nodded. Really, Jason has still been Robin back then. But the memory stuck out in his head now that he was thinking about it.

“Yeah, you were breaking away from him a little bit, which was weird at the time,” Red Hood mused aloud, arms crossed. “I think you helped us out a couple times and did some of your first team ups with Ivy before you vanished. Then a few months go by and you were back in action with Joker, so we mostly ignored it as you just being you.”

Harley nodded. “Ah, my Ivy’s a lifesaver, even back then. She helped cover up the timeline by keeping me in action for longer than I should’a been without putting me at too much risk.”

“Timeline…” Red Robin spoke up, eyes huge even behind his mask. “You don’t mean—“

“Harley,” Bruce breathed, having also caught on. “You were pregnant?”

The air went still. Harley sniffed, eyes watering even as she smiled.

“Oh yeah. Shouldn’t have been possible, ya know? Me ‘n Joker being dumped in that damn acid should have made us both more sterile than an operatin’ room. But I knew I couldn’t raise a kid, so after she was born—“

“You kept her?” Damian interrupted, earning a gentle cuff over the head from Dick. Harley just snorted.

“Yeah. Not gonna lie, I thought about abortion. But the baby didn’t do nothin’ wrong, and I was still in love with Joker back then so I was ecstatic that I was able to make something new with part ‘a him in it. Still, I knew a baby didn’t deserve to be raised in Gotham. Especially not my baby, not with my enemies and history. Not with who her father was. I knew he’d never want her, never let me keep her. So I spent the last five months of my pregnancy lookin’ around for the best possible family to take her in. And I found them in Paris, France. A sweet couple, both of them bakers. Sabine, she’s both adorably sweet and super kickass. Comes from a Chinese family that is crazy about teachin’ their women martial arts. But nothing shady about it, I triple checked. Just bonding through kicking people in the face. Which is perfect, I wanted my baby to know how to defend herself. I knew she’d need those skills eventually. And Tom, that’s Sabine’s wife, he’s a gentle giant. Same size as Bane, but as harmless as a puppy and makes the best croissants ever. Seriously, the best.”

“Harley,” Bruce gently prodded, but there was a tiny grin on his face. Seeing her behaving so… so normally, so proud and reminiscent, was a rare treat. Bruce would be lying if he said he wasn’t proud of how far the woman had come. How she had freed herself and become a better person, mostly on her own.

“Right, right. The point,” Harley took a breath, rubbing her forehead. “I came clean to Tom and Sabine, but apparently they knew who I was the whole time. They just didn’t care— did I mention they are perfect? Anyway, once I explained everything, they agreed immediately to adopting my baby. They’d been wanting kids, but it would’a been too risky for Sabine’s health. That’s how I found them anyway, they were in the market to adopt. We named her Marinette. She took Tom and Sabine’s last names, hyphenated. We decided Quinn would be her middle name. And after that, I came back to Gotham and told myself that she was in good hands and I needed to forget about her. Cuz I was no good for her. I knew that. I went back to my old tricks. And then…” Harley chuckled, but it was self-depreciating.

“Then a few years passed, and I started breaking away from Joker for real. Then we broke up, I blew up Ace Chemicals while you guys were outta town doing Justice League and Young Justice shit. I started dating Ivy. And—“ she smiled softly at the table, clearly seeing something the rest of them couldn’t. “Then Ivy convinced me to go see her. Visit my baby, see how she’s been. And I did. Marinette was seven years old, but damn it to hell she was gorgeous. And say whatever you want about me and Joker— most of it will even be true— but neither of us are stupid. And she inherited all of our intelligence. All of it. She got my blue eyes. But she got his hair, which meant Sabine teased me relentlessly about ‘are you sure she isn’t that Wayne’s kid?’ And don’t make that face Bruce, you’d be lucky to have a kid half as beautiful as my Mari-pie. No offense, Damian. Anyway. Anyway, this is the important part. Or part of it.

“She sat there and listened to everything I had to say. Everything. A little seven year old, who could barely understand English at the time, and she listened without interrupting once. She never threw a fit, she wasn’t angry or confused. I told her about the things I’d done in the past— well, G rated versions— and she didn’t care. She called me Momma Harley right away, said she wanted to meet Aunt Ivy sometime soon, and started telling me everything about her that I’d missed. From that day on, she became my sunshine. The light of my life, and I still call her at least once a week every week. When I disappear for a few days out of the city? I’m visiting her—“

“You’re banned from international travel, Harley,” Dick scolded, but he sounded way too amused for it to work. He knew she had her ways, anyway. Nobody could actually stop Harley damn Quinn from doing whatever she wanted.

“—Ugh, she tells me the same thing every time! Disappointed glare and everything. I don’t know how I gave birth to such a goodie goodie, but somehow I did. Not important though! The important thing is, I’m always the first to hear when something new happens in her life. And we had decided that she wouldn’t visit me in Gotham until she was at least eighteen, but apparently she disobeyed me— which I should have expected honestly— and entered you guys’ WE international scholastic competition.”

“Oh no,” Bruce pinched the bridge of her nose. “Marinette Dupain-Cheng? The contest winner?” He finally pulled out a chair and sat down. “The winner gets an all-expense paid trip to Gotham for them and their whole class.”

“Exactly!” Harley threw up her hands. “Mari told me last week, and I’ve been trying to talk her out of coming ever since. But she’s inherited both of our stubbornness too, and she isn’t budgin’ a bit. ‘Momma Harley, I wanna see you and Auntie Ivy though!’ And ‘Momma, Gotham’s nothing I can’t handle,’ or my favorite, ‘Maybe you’ll finally get to see me dropkick someone three times my size then, and I’ll prove it.’”

“So that’s what you meant by you need our help,” Tim said as he leaned forward over the table. “Joker just broke out of Arkham yesterday. You want us to protect her.”

“I’d prefer if one of you was with her outside of the mask too, as often as possible,” Harley confirmed. “I can’t stop her from coming here anymore, but I also don’t trust Joker for a second. As soon as he sees her, I’m afraid he’ll make the connection.”

“She looks like him?” Damian asked, scrunching up his nose at the ugly mental image of Joker as a teenage girl. Harley shook her head, solemn.

“She looks like a dark-haired mini-me,” she corrected. “She even keeps her hair in pigtails as her way of showing support for me. And I know Marinette can kick ass, Sabine’s trained her well. But Marinette inherited more than I’d like from me,” Harley ran a hand through her hair. “I didn’t notice it until she was thirteen. She got a crush on a classmate, and it was almost like watching videos of me back during the early days of— well, of Harley Quinn. Just without the crime and insanity. She didn’t even realize that she was almost stalking the poor kid until I pointed it out, and luckily I was able to put my doctorate to good use and we nipped that right in the bud ASAP. She never meant it that way, anyway. As soon as I explained things to her, she was horrified and immediately asked me to help her learn how to have a healthy relationship. That was a fun discussion,” Harley grimaced. “But she still gets attached to people really, really easily. Once she grew out of her crush on that boy, she adopted him as her unofficial brother. She already calls Selina “Auntie,” even though I’ve barely mentioned her to Marinette. She gets attached fast, and deeply. And I’m afraid that even after all the warning I’ve done, all the stories I’ve told her—“

“You’re afraid she’ll get attached to Joker just like you did,” Bruce finished for her, closing his eyes. “Because she knows he’s her father.”

“Yes,” Tears were slowly dripping down her face already, her hands curled into fists so tightly that her knuckles were paper white. “You know how he is. If he finds out she’s his biological daughter, he’ll immediately try to take advantage of that. And he’s far too good with his words for people like me and Mari. I’m worried outta my mind. Please. Help keep my baby safe from him.”

“We will,” Jason no longer had his helmet on, or the domino mask that he usually wore underneath it. All of them knew masks were merely formality with Harley nowadays. And he needed to look her directly in the eye so she could see how serious he was. “I can sign up as a bodyguard for the class. It won’t be weird, seeing as they’re tourists and this is Gotham. They also have several rich kids in their group if I remember right.”

Bruce nodded, agreeing with Jason. “That’s a good idea. I can lead the class on their tours of WE personally. That’ll serve the purpose of keeping an eye on her and shutting up the investors that keep begging me to make more public appearances for the sake of the company. Marinette’s name is already released to the news as the winner of the contest, so we can’t keep her out of the spotlight long. Tim, you’ll have to keep an eye on any and all pictures of the class. Try to erase or doctor the images with her in it well enough that connections between her and Harley can’t be easily made. Dick, you and Damian will be in charge of keeping an eye out for any activity from Joker. The slightest hint, and you notify all of us. We’ll decide on a case-by-case basis who is necessary to stick with the class and who goes after the clown.”

“She’s gonna sneak out of her hotel to stay with me and Ivy,” Harley admitted, bringing the (now slightly judgemental) attention back to her. She raised her hands up in surrender. “She didn’t tell me that, and I didn’t approve or suggest it! I just know my baby too well to not realize that that’s her plan. Could ya provide an escort?”

Bruce sighed. “This is gonna be an eventful month.”

[squadron-of-damned]

Do you have any personal headcanons or thoughts about your von Karma fan-family? Or something like a list in songs they have about characters?

Personal headcanons, as in headcanons that I have privately for myself about the family members which we’ve made up as a group? Well, I guess I do have some.

First and foremost there are probably waaaaay more family members than i described in the last ask. we just as a collective don’t have the spoons in general to make that many characters. making a decent character is Complicated.

Headcanons in no particular order:

Frieda initially was not planning on having children, or elevating Bernard above “decorative husband” status. Shit just got out of hand because Bernard was adorable.

Half of the family is ginger, the other half is blonde. Nobody actually knows what the hell is going on with Franziska’s hair, but they know that the ice-blue-white is actually natural, so they conclude it’s a bit weird blonde.

There is a family reunion every Christmas back in Germany, traditionally organized by Wolfgang. He takes it as a point of pride to be able to get there everyone who is not dead or his brother.

Yes, that means he has actually a functional plan to get Manfred out of the prison for a week so eh can come visit. It never came to it, because per Manfred’s reply: “Bold of you to assume to give up this perfect excuse not to have to see any of you ever again.”

Established thing is that Markov writes on his sleeves cuffs (he wears paper ones for that). Not established is that he has his own shorthand (regular shorthand was not fast enough for him) and has the tendency to flick the cuffs in people’s faces if they try to refute their previous statement.

Markov is also very eager to get into a fight. He never starts them, but he frequently provokes them. It’s not impossible for him to actually kill someone in an accident, but if he had, there have never been any witnesses. Usually it end sup with several Distinctly Non-Lethal Injuries.

Calling things/people “fool” and derivatives of the word is a family thing. It’s a self-censure feature, where “fool” substitutes “fuck”.

Technically the entire family is made of Christian Protestants, specifically Baptists. Practically the whole religion thing fizzled out around 1950′s, so they they are Baptists just for the statistics. The current young generation actually isn’t even baptized, so they don’t count.

As a family tradition  quite early in their lives a young von Karmaling receives a copy of Also sprach Zarathurstra (Thus Spoke Zarathurstra) by Nietzsche, usually for birthday, a fancy one with extra wide margins so you can put in your own notes and annotations.

These copies get worse and worse treatment over time as the recipient resents Nietsche, their own life and the family more and more.

Manfed’s copy served as a doorstop for years in his office, and also as a coaster for cups of coffee or tea.

Markov and Franziska’s copies are both used as projectiles with surprising accuracy.

Miles spent a very meditative afternoon filling the margins of his with the repeated phrase of “scheiß drauf“.

Nobody knows where Gandulf’s copy is. He lost it five minutes after he got it. He’s received several replacements since then. Only one of them has been found since then - at the ISS, completely covered in dried ketchup.

Wolfgang doesn’t know what a furry is, nevertheless he is one.

Gandulf knows what a furry is and also is one.

One of Ilse’s sacred duties is preventing her father from convincing other relatives to start a furaffinity account.

All of Nikolle’s (and Helena’s) dogs were named at Miles’ suggestion, hence why there so far have been two dogs named Phoenix (and one named Unicorn to throw the scent off).

Bigger Phoenix the Dog, the successor to the original Phoenix the Dog (whom Manfred von Karma used as an example that having a pet sharing a name with a person doesn’t make the person betrothed to the owner), absolutely loves chicken sandwiches and also tackling people with a big affectionate hug.

A lot of people know that Edith Vin Korek is married. Sometimes they get to meet the husband and they are very surprised to learn his name is not Markov Vin Korek. “Sir, you sign your articles MVK.” “Yes, the VK stands for ‘von Karma’.”

Helena lives off of energy drinks, adrenaline, and the knowledge she has to be back home by 4 PM to make the dinner.

Almost everyone in the family got shot into the right shoulder. It’s referred to as “getting the hereditary”. The notable exceptions are: Friedrich (who is too charming to be shot at), Griselda (who doesn’t leave the house), the kids (”Don’t worry, it’ll come.”), and Siegfried (who got shot thrice in three different occasions.)

Yes, Gandulf got the hereditary. No, he doesn’t know how. One day he just went to get his yearly checkup and the doctor was “Where did you get the gunshot from?” “Huh?” Conclusion: Don’t run around the woods in your fursuit while it’s the open season.

Franziska and Miles did get to try weed exactly once and they got into a LOT of trouble over that. But they got to try it when the school debate team went to Netherlands for a competition, so technically it was legal. (Neither of them liked it.)

At some point Phoenix the Attorney is going to start getting ampty postcrads/birthdey cards in his mail and it creeps him out greatly. He is going to bring it up to Miles who is going to sigh heavily and conclude “I think that’s a hint for me to marry you.” Markov von Karma competing for the most subtle matchmaker of the year with Gretchen (who outright asked to be Miles’ flower girl. on a phone. in the middle of the night because time zones).

[randomshyperson]

Wanda Maximoff / Reader - WandaVision Canon Divergence

Gif is not mine.

Summary: You liked the simplicity of life in Westview, it was quiet and mundane, completely different from what you have lived all your life. So when a witch rewrites the reality around you, you are slightly annoyed.

Warnings: This is trash, lot of swearing, idk really know what i was trying to write here., a bit of fluff but mostly my attempt at humor; hopeful ending.

Words>  3895k   ///// Read on AO3 too.

You were trying to remember how you got where you were. Your last memory was making breakfast, a little while after feeding your cat, and then everything went silent. You blinked again, and there were people in your house, whom you called husband and children, who were smiling and speaking words that you thought were funny.

And now sitting on your bed, while a stranger slept next to you, you could finally realize that something was not right.

Feeling a ringing in your ear, you tried to wake up. It felt like someone was inside your head, pushing your consciousness down. You took a deep breath, clenching your fists, using all your mental control to resist. 

And then your memories hit you in an instant, and you lost your breath. All your life returned to you. Rising abruptly from your shock, you looked around.

Your house was completely different from before, and your first impulse was to look for Mr. Whiskers, but you couldn't find him anywhere. 

Looking down you noticed that you were wearing an old dress, and you grumbled discontentedly. You hate dresses. You didn't have time to worry about it, though.

You tried to remember who was controlling you, but every time you thought the image was getting through, you heard a noise, and lost your concentration.

Turning to the man sleeping in your bed, you frowned at the image. He was the newspaper delivery man on Seventh Street. You had never had any contact with him at all. And now he looked troubled, as if he was having a bad dream.

You raised your fingers to the man's forehead and read his thoughts.

Choking on the intensity of the pure pain you felt, you stopped touching him then, stumbling backwards. What the fuck was that, you thought. But remembering the dream, you now knew who was doing it to him.

Putting on the first pair of shoes you found around the house, you walk out the front door, trying to feel the energy of the witch who was doing this, as you walked around the town.

A woman stopped you, smiling strangely. You had never seen her around here before.

- Are you all right, darling? - she asked. You noticed that everything looked antique, the clothes, the decorations.

- Actually I'm looking for someone. - You answered, and she kept that weird friendly smile. You didn't trust her, and honestly, all this nonsense was getting on your nerves.

- Oh, I can help you if you like. - She said cheerfully, and you took a step back. She didn't seem to mind, then spoke up: - And how is your family? I hear Thomas is giving you trouble at school.

You blinked in confusion, starting to get annoyed.

- Who the fuck is thomas? - You shouted. - You know what, stay away from me!

The woman stood there in shock for a moment, and you took advantage of this to turn her around and keep walking. 

But then you felt something grab you by the neck, you fell breathlessly to your knees, raising your hands to remove the grip, and noticing that it was magic. Great, two witches, you thought.

- You won't spoil the narrative, dear. - said the woman, now sounding much more threatening. She loosened the spell just so that you could breathe, and then turned you to face her. - I didn't know we had another witch in town.

- I am not a witch. - You grumbled. - I'm a mutant.

- I beg your pardon?

- A fucking mutant. - You retorted angrily. - You don't have much of that here, do you.

- And why are you here?

- Can you please let me go? - You strike back, and the woman looks at you with irony. - I'm not going to attack you.

- Oh, I wouldn't dream of it. - She sneers. You let out an impatient sigh.

- Look, I was living very well here. And then somebody put a 1950s filter on my life, and just disappeared with my pet cat. And I really liked him. - you say, getting up. - So if you and your witch friend can take whatever all this shit is somewhere else, I'll be very grateful.

The woman considered for a moment, and then smiled, offering a hand for you to shake. You raised your eyebrows.

- Agatha Harkness, sweetheart. - She introduced herself, and you shook her hand, feeling the magical energy in her fingers. - I'll tell you everything.

She said as she released you from the magical chain, and dragged you by the arm along the street.

Agatha served you tea when you arrived at her house. You noticed that the place was also decorated like in the forties. Your head was hurting a little, you could feel the pressure of the magic trying to make you obey.

- It's painful, isn't it? - says Agatha, looking at you closely. - I have never seen a human resist with such intensity.

You shrug.

- It's just mind control, isn't it? Everyone can learn to resist it. - You say, making Agatha laugh slightly.

- Oh, no, dear. - She denies it. - This is magic. It is not so simple to avoid.

You take a sip of your tea, it tastes good after all. 

- Weren't you going to tell me what's going on here? - you ask, changing the subject. You don't trust Agatha, and you have no intention of chatting with her.

She lets out a giggle at your impatience. 

- We have a witch in town. - She explains. - The very powerful kind. I'm trying to find out what is going on here.

- Do you work for the government or something?

- Oh no, I am from a special organization. - She says mysteriously, you shrug. You don't really care, you just want things to go back to normal. If Agatha can help you with that, you will work with her.

- Fine then. - you say, finishing your tea. - And how do we end this spell?

- It doesn't end. - she says, and you blink in surprise. - The witch who conjured it needs to remove it.

- Fucking hell. - You complain, getting up.

- Where are you going? 

- To talk to a witch! I'm sick of this shit.

You open the door, but Agatha uses her magic to close it at the same instant. You let out an irritated grunt.

- What's the problem? - You say to her, turning to face her. Agatha has a thoughtful expression.

- What exactly are your abilities?

- It doesn't matter. - You say. - I won't use them. Can I go now?

- I intended to play the girl's game to find out what's going on here.

You let out a short  laugh.

- You're kidding me, right? There are thousands of people here who have had their lives completely changed, and you have the power to put an end to it, and you're more interested in studying the witch than stopping her. - you exclaimed angrily. And then you opened the door, Agatha didn't stop you this time, a mixed gleam of surprise and curiosity in her eyes. - I'm going to end this nonsense now. I don't have the time or patience for games.

You left the house, looking around, and were slightly startled to see Agatha standing right next to you, as if she had just teleported there. She gave you a mischievous smile before pointing to the next residence.

You stepped forward to the front door, and knocked on the wood. It didn't take long for you to answer the door.

- Hello, good evening. - Greeted a tall, blond man. You hesitated for a moment, the noise his mind echoed was low, almost non-existent.

- Vision, darling! - Said a voice beside you before you could respond. Agatha placed one hand on your shoulder as she greeted the man with the other. They smiled politely. - I wanted to introduce my niece to Wanda! She came from the south to visit me.

You frowned, blinking in disbelief. Vision smiled, making room for the two of you to enter the house. Agatha pushed you inside, whispering in your ear to play nice, and you rolled your eyes without patience.

And then a woman entered the room, and you could tell you were relatively surprised at how beautiful she was. But this was no time to think about things like that.

- Agatha, darling, good evening! - greeted the woman.

- Hi Wanda, how are you?

They greeted each other with a quick hug while you stood there, arms crossed, not believing the acting.

- This is my niece, she came to stay at my house for a few days. - Agatha said, giving you a gentle nudge with her elbow to introduce yourself. You let out a sigh, forcing a smile at the redhead as you held out your hand to her.

- I am Y/N. - You said, and almost choked when Wanda touched your hand, feeling an electric current go through your body. Wanda's eyes widened, probably feeling it too, but she didn't say anything, letting go of the squeeze.

- We just wanted to say hello, and see how you were doing. - Agatha said with a smile, and Wanda looked at her in the same way. And then the man named Vision came over, hugging the redhead on the side and matching smiles. You squeezed your eyes shut, not believing the scene.

- Is everybody here crazy? - you exclaimed with irritation. Wanda and Vision looked at you with confusion, and Agatha made an angry expression as if to tell you to shut up, but you just raised your hand at her and kept talking. - Look, I don't know what's going on here, and honestly I don't care. If you could just stop the whole show, I'd appreciate it.

All three were quiet for a moment, completely confused. And then the doorbell rang

As Wanda went to answer the door, Agatha pinched your arm, and you just grunted in pain, asking her if those people were mental.

- Pietro? - said the woman looking tearful. The man hugged her then, and then when he turned to you, you let out a surprised exclamation.

- What the fuck are you doing here? - you exclaimed, and everyone looked at you in confusion and surprise. But you felt a mixture of relief and happiness. - Peter, how are you here?

You asked, approaching the boy. But he had a confused expression, as if he didn't really know you. You shook your head in irritation.

- Okay, this is too weird. - You declared. - What the hell is going on? How did Peter get here? Who are you, and why don't I have any pants in my closet?

Agatha let out a nervous laugh, probably hoping that the couple would reconsider their little outburst. But then Wanda acquired a serious expression, her eyes glowing red as she stood in front of you.

- Who are you? - she asked.

- I'm the one who is asking. - You countered. - You are the one who invaded my town and changed the decoration of my house. And more importantly, where the fuck is my cat?

Wanda looked surprised for a moment, and then she held up one hand, a red glow coming from her fingers. You raised your eyebrows.

- I'll ask you again.

- Was that meant to intimidate me? - You reply with irony, nodding your head at the red glow.

- Wanda, dear, what's going on? - Vision asked, sounding really confused. You imagined he was being controlled too. Wanda looked slightly perturbed, and then she launched a large amount of energy at you, pushing you hard enough to break through the wall, and you rolled a few feet into the grass outside.

- Fucking great. - You grumbled as you stood up. Wanda was already coming toward you, her fists and eyes red.

- I want you out of my home.

You wiped the grass from your clothes, laughing wryly.

- You are the one who came to my town, Wanda. - You say in a calmer tone. - I just want things back to normal, and more importantly, I want the newspaper vendor out of my bed.

- I don't understand what you are talking about. - Wanda says with a mixture of confusion and anger in her voice. You frown. Did she really not know what she was doing?

You looked away from her to Agatha, who seemed to be enjoying the whole conflict. You let out a grumble of annoyance.

- That is great. Fucking great. - You muttered as you began to walk in circles, wondering what exactly to do. - Look, I don't know exactly what's going on here. But I do know that this is not my life. And well, it's nobody's life either. That guy over there is not even from this universe! - You explain and point at Peter, or Pietro, with your finger. He looks at you with raised eyebrows. - I just need you to undo whatever this is all about.

- I don't ... - Wanda murmured, looking perplexed. You sighed. 

- Maybe I can help you remember. - You suggest. Wanda nods her head in agreement. 

Agatha approaches quickly, a smile on her lips.

- I would like to participate, please. - she says. You roll your eyes. 

- This will only take a second. - You say tenderly to the redhead. And you raise a finger to her forehead and one to Agatha's, and then you remember.

You see Agatha's memories first. All the hate, and the ambition. She and Wanda walk beside you through the memories. You look closely, wrapped up in the feelings. Agatha had a lot of anger and a lot of hurt, but she was extremely powerful. 

She doesn't seem to mind sharing, and even the most painful memories no longer affect her.

When you see Wanda's memories, however, everything seems to hurt like a freshly opened wound. The death of her parents, the loss of Pietro, and the death of Vision. You feel her emptiness, her pulsating pain. It takes the air out of your lungs, and you just wish you could take that feeling away from her. No one should ever feel this way. As you wade through the memories, you don't understand why none of the people in her life helped her deal with her grief. 

When you stop looking at the memories, you are back in front of the house, no time has really passed in reality, only in your heads. Thick tears stream down Wanda's face, and you resist the urge to dry them, thinking that you didn't really have this intimacy.

But before you can say anything, Agatha lets out a laugh that startles both you and Wanda. 

- Have you gone mad too? - You remark, but a purple haze comes over her, and then she is wearing a different costume. You figure it's her "`witch's outfit,'" and let out a giggle.

- You have no idea how dangerous you are, Mrs. Maximoff. - She says, lifting herself into the air with her own magic. You should know better, witches are always so dramatic. - You're supposed to be a myth.

Wanda looks a mixture of nervousness and impatience. You just cross your arms, waiting for the speech to be over.

- A being capable of spontaneous creation, and here you are. Using to serve breakfast for dinner. - Agatha says with irony. You frown slightly, not catching the reference. - All this little life you have created here. This is chaos magic, Wanda. And that makes you a Scarlet Witch.

- Okay, that's enough, right? - You interrupt, putting yourself in front of Wanda, only to look at Agatha impatiently. - What exactly are you planning to do? Because if I'm not going to help the city, my interest is zero.

Agatha looks really shocked by your intrusion, and it takes a second, or rather a muffled laugh from Peter, or Pietro, laughing at the situation for her to acquire an angry expression and launch a big magic energy ball at you.

Letting out an impatient sigh, you watch the shocked and impressed expressions as you just absorb Agatha's power.

- Good, let's do the introductions then. - You say, and raise your hand, pulling Agatha to the floor. All that theater was wearing you out. - My name is Y/N. I am what you call a mutant, or homo superior. My abilities consist of absorbing, altering, and enhancing the powers of other mutants. The cute one over there - you signaled Pietro - is from my universe too, his name is Peter Maximoff. I came to this world after an accident, about seven years ago. I never made it back. A bald woman put me in this city, and told me to live a quiet life here. And everything was fine, until you arrived. - You say, pointing at Wanda. - Look, I've never met any Wanda Maximoff in my world, but I know we have scarlet witches there. Anyway, would you have any way to remove the spell from Westview? I'd like to get back to my normal life.

Wanda is in shock for a few seconds, and Agatha lets out a laugh. Maybe she has finally given in to insanity, you think.

- You can't stand in my way! You don't know how much I've had to sacrifice to get here.

- Agatha, stop the drama. - You respond, walking over to her and helping her to her feet. - I didn't do anything, I just absorbed the magic you threw at me. What did you expect to do anyway, huh? Absorb Wanda's power?

Agatha grimaces, nodding. You roll your eyes.

- That's ridiculous, you have more than enough power, - you say. - What's the problem with villains and boundaries - You grumble and walk toward Wanda, smiling tenderly at her. - Hey, Wanda. Can we liberate the city now? I'll wait for you to say goodbye to Vision.

Wanda frowns, and you give her a sad smile. It takes a moment, but she nods, turning toward Vision, who had been watching everything in silence until now. She walks back into the house, fixing the wall she had thrown you through as she enters, and you figure they will say goodbye with a little privacy.

While you wait, you turn to Agatha and Peter.

- So who will tell me how he got here? - you ask, with a mixture of seriousness and playfulness in your voice. 

Agatha sighs impatiently. 

- I made a deal with a demon. Simple stuff, really. - She says.

You raise your eyebrow.

- Oh yeah, right. - You agree with irony. - Is he at least the Peter Maximoff of my world, or just a spiritual copy?

- You'll have to ask Mephisto that. - She answers. You let out a sigh, running out of patience. And then you walk over to Peter, and read his mind. And you see nothing but Westview.

- Great, it's empty. - You grumble. Peter looks surprised. - You have a whole life here. His name is Ralph by the way. - You say. - I just don't understand where the super speed comes from.

- Well, he's still a copy. - Agatha suggests, and you shrug, turning to her.

- I imagine you'll try something very illegal and dangerous if I let you out of here, huh? - You joke, and she flashes you a wry smile.

- You could be a nice girl, and lend me some of your abilities. - She looks at you suggestively. You raise your eyebrows wryly.

- On my world they said that a mutant like me would be responsible for annihilation. I don't think it would be wise to use my abilities on people as powerful as you.

Agatha fakes a hurt look, but you surprise her by holding her hands.

- You will stay away from Wanda, okay? - You ask tenderly, making Agatha's eyes widen. - Or I will drain every last drop of magic out of you myself.

What could you say, having seen all of someone's memories created a bond. You can't help but care about Wanda. In fact, you even cared about Agatha too. 

You watched as Hex began to diminish, finally realizing that you were in a kind of bubble until now.

Putting your hands in your pockets, you smiled at the other two beside you. - I hope it doesn't hurt. 

Peter laughed, but Agatha seemed too shocked by your last words to react to anything.

Hex finally reached you, and you watched the house in front of you turn into a plot of land. Wanda stood in the center, her head bowed. 

You waited for her to walk over to you.

- What happens now? - she asked in a broken voice. You smiled, trying to cheer her up.

- I'll take you out for some hot chocolate. - You say, offering your arm for her to hold. Wanda gives you a sad smile, but accepts. As you walk with her toward your house, you wave to Agatha and Peter.

You let out an exclamation of joy when Mr. Whiskers runs to your feet just as you open the door. You pick him up, petting his ears as he purrs. Wanda follows you across the room, appearing unfocused.

You place him on the floor, and motion for Wanda to sit down, as you head toward the kitchen to prepare the chocolate for you two.

- Here it is. - You say as you bring the drink to Wanda. She has a lost look in her eyes. You bite the inside of your cheek, not knowing exactly what to say. - Do you want to talk about it?

Wanda shrugs, tasting the chocolate.

- I don't know what else to say. - She confesses, her voice breaking. - I'm tired. 

- I'm so sorry for everything, Wanda. - You say sincerely, looking at her. You want to wipe the tears that threaten to fall from your eyes. - But I'm going to stay with you now. You won't be alone anymore.

Wanda looks away, tears finally streaming down her face. She excuses herself, wiping them away quickly. 

- Why are you doing this? - she asks. - Why are you helping me?

- Why wouldn't I? - You shoot back as if it were obvious.

- I just kidnapped an entire city. You don't even know me.

- Everyone makes mistakes. - You joke and shrug. - Your mistakes are only bigger because of your magic. Besides, I saw your head. You were in pain, and you lost control. You would be surprised how many times I have seen this happen. - You count, and Wanda shakes her head in disbelief at your reassurance. You give her a smile, and signal her to drink the chocolate before it gets cold.

You are silent for a moment before she speaks again.

- I can't stay here. - she says. - This city. Vision... he...

- Let's leave, then. - You interrupt her, seeing that she was about to cry again. 

She looks at you in surprise, laughing slightly.

- What are you saying? You live here.

- And? - You shrug your shoulders. - I can sell the house. Buy a van, live on the road. Take you to all the places you don't know. - You joke, making her smile.  - I told you, Maximoff. You won't be alone. I like you.

Wanda places the mug on the coffee table in the living room and presses her face against her palms for a moment, sighing. Then she looks at you.

- And when are we going? - she asks and you smile, feeling excited.

- Whenever you want.

- Now.

You laugh, placing your mug next to hers on the table.

- Your wish is my command, madam. - You joked before getting up.

You stroked Mr. Whiskers from inside the shipping box while you were in the front seat of Wanda's car. She looked at you tenderly before she started the car, and you drove out of Westview.

[ad1thi]

the memories bring back (you)

part of the 1000 lives ‘verse, aka my: Bucky and Tony are soulmates and Tony gets captured by HYDRA and they fall in love but then after TWS Bucky escapes but Tony doesn’t and now Bucky is desperately trying to find Tony and save his soulmate - verse.

this is a timestamp of Tony and Bucky’s time at HYDRA. reading the first fic in the series is recommended but not necessarily required to understand this fic. you can always read this one first and then read the first fic later on

//

13 kills (1991)

The boy appears to be attempting to escape, as he presses his feet against the wall and tugs at his chains over and over, even though it must be hurting him to do so. Briefly, the Asset wonders if it should explain to the boy that escape is not possible, that HYDRA does not allow for such things, but it has not been told to speak to the boy, so it says nothing.

“You could help, you know,” the boy spits out, and it takes a couple of seconds for the Asset to realise that the boy is addressing it. “Bet that metal arm of yours would come in real handy right about now. My father isn’t going to pay my ransom, he never does, so you might as well KILL ME!” The boy tilts his head back and shouts the last two words, talking to people who aren’t in the room.

“What does this kind of job pay anyway?” the boy asks. “Is it really worth it? Stealing teenagers from their dorm rooms? You must really be important to them if they fitted you with a prosthesis like that.” The boy eyes its metal arm, but unlike when the Scientist used to eye the arm, there is no shudder down the Asset’s spine. It doesn’t feel the urge to flinch or cower away because there’s no spite in the boy’s look - for all the vitriol he’s spitting - only curiosity.

“I would love to get my hands on that thing,” the boy says, more to himself than anyone else, before giving the Asset a slow once-over, “I’d like to get my hands on all of you, if you weren’t some sort of creepy kidnapper. Rhodey’s gonna lose his mind when he finds out I have a hard-on for my kidnapper. This is some Stockholm Syndrome type shit.”

The boy looks like he’s about to say more, but he’s interrupted by another presence in the room. The Asset looks away from the boy, and it’s back instantly stiffens when it recognises the Handler. It jumps to its feet, sticking a foot out to still the rattling metal bed-frame, and instantly assumes parade-rest.

“At ease, soldier, ” the Handler says in an amused tone, a half smile on his lips. He doesn’t, however, make any motion for the Asset to sit, or any indication that his words are any more than just that, words, so the Asset remains standing, hands clasped behind its back.

“Anthony Stark,” the Handler says, crouching down on his knees, and reaching out to grip the boy’s jaw firmly. To his credit, the boy stares defiantly back at the Handler, and the Asset thinks that if it weren’t for the hand pressing into his cheeks, the boy might actually attempt to spit on the Handler.

“Pierce,” the boy musters out, in between gritted teeth, “If you wanted to talk, you could’ve just called ahead. There was no need for all this.” The boy waves his hands around, as best he can since they’re being weighed down by chains, “I would’ve scheduled you in.”

“Now we both know that isn’t true,” the Handler says, almost fondly, “What was it you said when I sent Fury looking for you last month? That you’d keep us on hold just to watch the line blink. That’s highly unprofessional Tony, surely your father taught you better than that.”

The boy, Tony, attempts to smile. “He did. Never did put much stock into the old man’s lessons. Bit too old fashioned for my taste.”

The Handler tsks, clicking his tongue to the roof of his mouth, “I wouldn’t be so quick to dismiss him, my boy. It’s a shame, because he’s no longer around to drop those pearls of wisdom on you. I would really start cherishing those memories. What is that saying, ‘you don’t know what you have until it’s gone’?’”

The Handler drops his grip on Tony’s jaw, and pushes himself off the floor, dusting his knees. Some of the dirt falls on Tony’s face, and Tony shakes his head vigorously, closing and opening his eyes rapidly. He’s shaking, much like he was when the Asset first entered, but this time, the Asset thinks it’s from anger.

“Asset!” The Handler barks, and it stiffens. “Mission Report. December 16, 1991.”

“Mission: Extraction and Execution. Primary Target: Super-soldier serum,” the Asset intones, “Secondary Target: Howard Stark. Collateral: Maria Stark.”

Tony inhales a sharp breath, exhaling in a splutter like he’s being choked, but the Handler pays him no mind, so the Asset continues.

“Serum extracted at 0200 hours. Secondary target neutralised. Collateral neutralised. Return to base at 0500 hours. Mission successful.”

The Handler nods, once at the Asset, and another time, more firmly, at Tony.

“Like I said,” the Handler says to Tony, “you never know what you have until it’s gone.” Tony doesn’t seem to be paying the Handler any mind, instead glaring at the Asset, and doesn’t even notice when the Handler leaves the room. There’s an outwardly calm that’s overtaken Tony that it is stark contrast to the way he was shivering with anger, and yet, the Asset does not think he is actually calm, not in the slightest.

“You killed my mother, you son of a bitch,” Tony finally murmurs, “I’m gonna rip your heart out and feed it to you.”

**

15 kills (1992)

It is unusual for the Handler to oversee the defrosting process. Normally, when the Asset is brought out of cryo, it is only the Scientist that is waiting for him, flanked by two agents. Occasionally, the Doctor will make an appearance too, if it has been particularly long since the Asset has been wiped.

The Chair means that the Asset does not remember much of anything, but it has come to recognise the tug in it’s gut, that informs it that something is amiss. It should probably inform the Doctor of this malfunction, but it is a feeling that has served the Asset well on previous Missions, so it does not say anything.

It opens its eyes despite the cold, blinking away the remnants of ice that have collected on it’s eyelashes, and waits until it is ordered to sit up. It is when the Asset sits up that it notices the Handler, and the boy standing beside the Handler - arms handcuffed behind him and an old cloth shoved into his mouth.

There is something vaguely familiar about the boy, but the Asset does not know what.

When the Handler realises that he has the Asset’s attention, he raises the hand not resting on the boy’s shoulder, wiggling his fingers. The Handler is smiling, and muttering something to the boy that is causing a complicated amount of emotions on his face, and even makes the boy shuffle forward as if to approach the Asset - before the Handler pulls him back.

“Dr. Barnett, would you mind so kind as to prep the Asset for the Chair?” the Handler asks, even though his tone suggests that it isn’t a request. “I do believe our newest guest requires a demonstration on the repercussions of non-compliance.”

The Asset stiffens ever so slightly at the mention of the Chair but otherwise makes no indication that it is aware of what is happening.

It has been defrosted in the Recalibration Room, so it is simply a matter of stepping out of the cryo chamber, and walking across the room to the Chair. Without instruction, the Asset spreads out its hands and allows itself to be strapped down, relaxing its jaw and clenching down on the plastic bit that is fitted between its teeth.

The Chair rocks back ever so slightly, just as the harness comes down and attaches itself to both of the Asset’s temples, and the Asset involuntarily closes its eyes as electricity courses through its body, forcing it to arch it’s back and lift it’s head up in a silent scream.

“You see, my boy?” it dimly hears the Handler, almost inaudible over the sound of blood rushing through its ears, “Zola wanted us to Wipe you, turn you into an automaton just like Barnes. But I knew better, I knew that there were easier ways to gain your allegiance.”

The pain ebbs and flows, as the Scientist modulates the dials. The Asset is granted a small reprieve, no longer than a breath, before the electricity is ramped up again.

“Stop! Can’t you see you’re hurting him? Stop please! I’ll do whatever you want!”

Just as quick as the electricity is increased, it is abruptly stopped, and the Asset sags against the Chair, taking big, heaving breaths through the bit in its mouth.

“So we have a deal then?” the Handler asks, and a voice that the Asset cannot place replies, “Yes. You stop, you stop torturing him like this, and I’ll do whatever you want. No more fights.”

The Handler is looming over the Asset’s line of sight, presumably having moved closer while the Asset was being Wiped, and he’s smiling.

“Brilliant,” the Handler is looking at the Asset, but the words are meant for someone else. “First order of business - you’re going to upgrade the Asset’s arm. I don’t think it’s been worked on since the 1950s, and that’s an awfully long time, don’t you think?”

“Soldier,” the Handler says, and now the Handler is talking to the Asset, “It’s time you met your new partner in crime. Anthony Edward Stark, Designation: Assistant.”

The Asset spits out the bit, because its hands are still strapped down, and repeats, “Anthony Edward Stark, Designation: Assistant.”

Next to the Handler, the boy, the Assistant, attempts to smile, but it comes out as a grimace.

continue reading on ao3!!

[archivingspn]

2019: Twitter- Eric Kripke

therealKripke: “In honor of #SPN300, here's my original #SPN pitch from 2004. The pilot story is very different, but the tone always rang clear to me. Could never have imagined what this show became and the good it's done. Humbled and grateful beyond words to you all. #SPNFamily @cw_spn ‘[images of spn pilot’s 4pg script]’“ - 12:08 PM Feb 7, 2019

[source]

                                                                                                       1

Supernatural

Pitch by Eric Kripke August 30, 2004

I. TONE AND WORLD

In one sentence, this is X-FILES meets ROUTE 66. Two brothers, cruising the dusty back roads in their trusty 64 Mustang, battling the things that go bump in the night. But much more than that, it's a show about an obsession of mine...

Throughout the U.S., (especially the MIDDLE, where I'm from), we have a folklore, as uniquely American as baseball, as rich and varied as any world mythology, and almost nobody knows it. For instance, Robert Johnson sold his soul to the Devil, at an abandoned Mississippi crossroads, to be the world's greatest guitarist. But he died violently, poisoned at age 26, screaming about Hellhounds as he choked on his own blood. In the shadowy north woods of Minnesota, lives a creature named the Wendigo. Translated from Native American, it means "evil that devours.” It feeds on human flesh. And even today, dozens of witnesses say it's very real.

There are literally HUNDREDS of these stories and legends and urban legends. There are dark and dangerous things out there in the corners of our country. So here's a show that travels the diverse highways and byways of supernatural America. Black woods, ghost towns, those tourist trap mystery spots. Really, a show ABOUT our country-the bloody, beating heart of America.

Unlike X-FILES, this show isn't Vancouver rainy. It's brighter, more colorful, more VISCERAL, and more irreverent. The humor here is extremely important to me—but it has to arise from the characters and their attitudes. The characters can be funny, but the weekly stories have to be SCARY AS SHIT– I'm talking THE RING; how what you don't see is much more terrifying than what you do. I'm talking about making this series as scary as I possibly can, until you guys call and yell at me.

But I also want the tone to be GROUNDED. Where BUFFY, for example, felt HEIGHTENED, our show should feel like OUR WORLD, real-life America. With a darkness that bubbles and boils just beneath the surface. And I want to keep the weekly stories CREDIBLE- leave 'em with a question mark, the possibility of a rational explanation. Something early X-Files did very well.

Finally, I want this show to capture a certain SPIRIT. For one, that youthful electricity of dropping out and hitting the open road; the freedom of wide-open American spaces. But also, EVERY road trip story-from FEAR and LOATHING to Kerouac to The Odyssey, are inherently mythic quests, hero's journeys, real Joseph Campbell stuff. The way STAR WARS, LORD OF THE RINGS, and MATRIX are all the same story, with the same beats. So our series, too, is an epic hero's quest-- across the United States. Almost like a modern western, and our heroes are gunslingers. Or, as I like to call it - it's STAR WARS in TRUCK STOP AMERICA.

                                                                                                                2

II. CHARACTERS AND FRANCHISE

Now, let's get into establishing our characters, and launching our franchise.

So if this is STAR WARS, meet LUKE SKYWALKER. SAM HARRISON, 21. Think Jake Gyllenhall, or Tobey Maguire. Smart, funny, handsome, maybe a little type-A. He just graduated Stanford with a 4.0, and now he's heading back down to L.A., where he lives with his Aunt and Uncle, he'll spend the summer clerking at a powerful law firm. And in the Fall... Harvard Law, thank you very much. Pedal to the metal, Sam is cruising the track to success. But, like all good Luke Skywalker heroes, Sam is vaguely restless. He tells his girlfriend, maybe he should drop everything this summer and blow off to Europe. But of course, he doesn't. He has too many responsibilities.

Sam's well adjusted, successful life, it's a real triumph, especially considering his background. Fifteen years ago, his dad JACK became increasingly dark and depressed. He drank. A lot. Until Mom and Dad were in a car crash. Dad was driving. He lived. Mom didn't. That triggered a schizophrenic breakdown in Dad. He swore that twisted, dark, horrific things caused that crash and took Mom away. And those same dark things were chasing after him. Dad was institutionalized. But he escaped. And disappeared.

Sam is ashamed of his tragic past. Hates his Dad, blames him for killing Mom, and NEVER, EVER talks about it.

Now, Sam's mythic CALL TO ADVENTURE, the events that will change his life forever, begin simply enough. When his big brother DEAN rolls into town. Meet DEAN HARRISON, 25, think Colin Farrel. If Sam's the good kid, Dean's the troublemaker. If Sam's Luke Skywalker, Dean's Han Solo. Charismatic and dangerous. Cocky confidence masking a troubled soul. Sam hated Dad, but Dean was older and remembered Dad in brighter days, and he worshipped the man. Sam buried his past and ignored it, but Dean was haunted by it, never quite got his shit together. Dean never went to college. Just sort of traveled around. In fact, Sam hasn't heard from Dean in almost 3 years, which Sam clearly resents.

And now... Dean makes Sam a proposition. Let me drive you down to L.A.- it's just one day, we'll get a chance to catch up a little. Reluctant, Sam agrees.

At first, they're enjoying the electric, carefree pleasures of a ROAD TRIP. Top down, radio blaring, singing their lungs out to AC/DC.

But then... at twilight... on an empty stretch of highway... Dean's driving. And he has to make a confession. (Though I'm sure we'll break this up into a few different scenes.) "Sam. There's something I need to tell you," Dean says. “I went looking for Dad. And I found him. Took just about every dime I had, but I found him. And I've been with him, for almost 2 years." Sam is shocked and betrayed: "what?! Why didn't you tell me?!" But Dean continues: "listen. I know this is hard to believe. But Dad WASN'T nuts.

                                                                                                                    3

Demons really DID kill Mom. Dark, awful things WERE following Dad. I know. Because I can see them. Because they're following me, too."

Obviously, Sam is BEYOND freaked and well aware that schizophrenia is hereditary. Dean goes on, getting worked up-“so Dad figured out how to kill these things, and he showed me how. Until they caught up to us in Baker. They got Dad. Before I got them." "What do you mean, you GOT them?” asks Sam. “I killed a demon. In human form," says Dean. “You killed somebody?!" "No, I killed a DEMON, it only LOOKED human.” (Which could be a scary, visceral teaser, by the way.) Anyway, DEAN continues: “Listen to me, Sam... it was Dad's wish, his DYING WISH, that I find you, that I teach you the way he taught me.” At this point, Sam goes into placating, survival mode. “Okay. Sure. Just calm down." But Sam's terrified-of his own brother.

Meanwhile, as this conversation's going on, Dean isn't going to L.A. He takes a detour-- for all intents and purposes, kidnapping Sam. They pull into a small, faded, all-American town in Central California. It's 1950's American optimism gone to seed. Basically, they pull right into the pilot's SELF ENCLOSED B-STORY. Whatever it is, the story should be simple, giving us room to focus on the brothers. It should be based in Folklore. And it should be personal—the job their father never completed.

Now, here's an example of exactly the kind of story I'm talking about. The real life ghost story of the "Weeping Woman," a sobbing wraith in a bloody white nightgown. She murdered her children by the river side, as revenge against her unfaithful husband. And today, it's said she lures unfaithful men to the river and drowns them. And sure enough, several MEN in this town have turned up dead by the river's edge. Anyway, something like this. And Dean, despite his smart ass jokes and references to the movie Poltergeist, seems to be taking this SERIOUSLY.

But Sam doesn't believe a WORD of it. First moment he's alone, he calls his Aunt and Uncle. “I'm with Dean, I think he's sick.” They tell him—"cops in Baker found your Dad's body. And a truck driver's body, too. Dean's the suspect. You have to get away! Where are you?!” But before Sam can answer-he pivots, right into Dean. Who grabs the phone, SMASHING it, furious: “Dammit, Sam, I'm not insane," Dean says, “Caspar the unfriendly fucker is really out there!"

Then, as Dean delves deeper and deeper into the ghost story, dragging a reluctant Sam along with him... INEXPLICABLE SUPERNATURAL phenomenon begin to occur, which SERIOUSLY RATTLES Sam. We'll have several good, scary set pieces. And soon, Sam doesn't know WHAT to think. And in the B-STORY'S climax, he'll even save Dean at some crucial point. (Though we'll be careful to leave things open ended, with just the possibility of a logical explanation.)

Afterwards, a beat in which Dean, vulnerable, says to his brother-"I've been thinking. And you're going home, Sam. You're smart, and you've got everything going for you. I don't care what Dad said, I can't let you live like this... Still," says Dean, "it was nice having you around. When you're with somebody... you just don't feel as crazy as

                                                                                                                   4

often." Sam's very conflicted, and he feels awful, but he can't just abandon his old life. So the brothers part ways. Sam hitchhikes up the road. Meanwhile, thanks to his Aunt and Uncle, the cops have been searching for Sam, and now they find him.

At the station, Sam tells the cops, Dean's in Colorado by now. But a patrol car has spotted Dean's parked Mustang at a nearby motel. The police grab SHOTGUNS, they're going to take Dean with force. And in the face of ONE PASSING COP, Sam sees-a glimpse. A shimmer. Something DEMONIC and INHUMAN flashes across the cop's face-and then it's gone, just as quick. Did Sam imagine it? Is he going insane, too? Or is Dean really in danger? Are dark, awful things really after him, like he said?

This is Sam's crossroads moment. And he makes a decision-he takes off. Steals a car. Beats the cops back to Dean. Warns him at the last minute. It's very TIGHT and very HECTIC, but Sam and Dean get away. Escaping by the skin of their teeth.

As we leave Sam... he doesn't know if he's losing his mind. He doesn't know if Dean's a hero or a homicidal schizophrenic. All he knows is-Dean's his brother, and he needs help. And for now, that's enough.

III. THE SERIES ITSELF

I think the overall GOAL here, is building an engine that gives us SELF ENCLOSED STORIES. I am gonna pitch some very simple mythology, but STAND ALONES are a format I really believe in, they're the shows I loved and grew up on. Like the best EARLY episodes of X-FILES.

So basically, our two heroes, avenging their parents' death, cruise the golden backroads of America-picture chrome diners and bucolic farms and dusty Route 66 towns. Places that are mythic and American, but also haunting, in a way. Places where horror can strike in broad daylight. Sam and Dean are kind of like classic gunslingers, or dragon slayers, finding-and KILLING—the monsters of American folklore.

So first question-how do they find the damn things? Dean tracks these creatures in a low-tech way. He scans obituaries for strange deaths. Dean also has a loose network of contacts - defrocked ministers and trailer park psychics, who impart information to our heroes whenever necessary.

Second question-how do they KILL the damn things? The answer—they have no fucking idea. They're outgunned and desperate and in completely over their heads. They don't have a WATCHER, like in BUFFY. They don't have an OBI WAN. They're on their own. Each week, they gotta figure out what the hell they're dealing with, and how the hell to kill it. And a lot of the time, they're wrong, and they have to improvise. Whether it's finding a ghost's remains - and burning them into dust; or loading a shotgun with silver buckshot, our guys will do whatever it takes to get the job done.

[sellyoursoulforagoodfic]

Shelbys at Somme Chapter 15

Thomas X Reader

Word Count: 1950

Summary: Evidence. A little stab in the heart. Two idiots missing the point.

by @adventuresintooblivion

Thomas huffed into the cold night air. The family meeting that Aunt Pol had called ran late. As time ticked on his mind had begun to wander, it wasn’t until Arthur had smacked him with a newspaper that he’d realized he was shaking the table by bouncing his leg.

“So anxious to get out of here are ya?” Aunt Pol raised her eyebrow.

Arthur playfully elbowed him, “He’s just excited to get to that nice warm bed at the Garrison with what’s her face.”

Aunt Pol let her gaze bore through the younger Shelby brother, “Would that be Grace or Y/N?”

“While it’s not any of your business, I’m not sleeping with either of them,” Thomas growled as he shoved Arthur aside. “Why do you have that sour look on your face, Pol?”

She folded her arms, the matter at hand forgotten, “That Grace girl, I don’t trust her.”

John peeked up from a ledger, “You don’t like any girl that comes and tries to take your boys away.”

“That’s not true,” Aunt Pol sniffed. 

Thomas rolled his eyes, “So if I asked Y/N to marry me tomorrow you’d be fine with it?”

“As a matter of fact, I won’t be opposed to it.”

Silence fell over the room. It hung heavy in the air as future possibilities began to unfold in the minds of various Shelbys. But Thomas didn’t let himself dream, he wouldn’t. 

“Speaking of Y/N, I hope she doesn’t mind if we steal you for a night.” Arthur stood to slap Thomas on the shoulder.

He raised his eyebrow, “What on earth for?” 

“Well, John over there has been planning a heist for a long while, and he’s too nervous to bring it up himself.”

“Hey!”

“And we figured you should give it a quick looking over.”

Thomas glanced over at John curiously, “Alright, I’m all ears.”

〜

Grace and Y/N lay against the cold stone for hours. The clock ticked by in that warped way brought along by discomfort. Hours passed in moments, but, more often than not, it slowed to a crawl. Each shift brought a new source of cold waiting eagerly to seep into their bones. Each breath conjured small puffs of steam before their lips.

It wasn’t until morning that boots crunched through the gravel drive outside. Henry shivered against the cold of the morning. While snow refused to fall, ice still formed in the mud outside the Garrison. Fog hung low in the air as it rolled off the Cut, and, quite frankly, Henry found himself wishing for summer.

Distracted, he hurriedly shoved his key into the lock. It gave too easily. At first he didn’t register anything amiss, but soon his tired mind caught up. Something was wrong. The door swung open revealing a gaping hole of darkness that seemed to yawn open in the stark morning light. 

He took a deep breath fidgeting with the lock. “Grace? Are you in here?” His voice cracked.

The creak of the grimy wood floor was the only answer. He glanced around quickly, starting when his boot squished in a small muddy footprint. He licked his lips.

“This isn’t funny Grace! You know I like a clean floor.”

All he heard was the soft hiss of the radiator. Finally, he looked around. The scent of stale beer and sweat assaulted his nose, quickly leading him to the source. Several buckets of excess stout still waited to be taken out. A thin film coated the bar, pretty typical for the end of a night. But now?

“This place is too bloody dark,” he said to himself in a singsong voice. He wasn’t sure if it made him feel better, but it helped fill the heavy darkness. He wracked his brain for where he’d put matches. The backroom. 

Henry rushed forward, tripping over a chair in his eagerness for light. He felt out wildly for the rough wood. His hand collided with the dense slab with a loud THUD. Shaking the handle, it refused to budge.

“Shit. Again?” He fumbled for his keys

“Henry?”

“Y/N? Is Grace in there with you? She was supposed to lock up and the place is a bloody disaster.”

“Yeah…”

Henry grumbled to himself, “Of course. You girls been in there all night?”

He cycled through several keys, cursing all the while. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, the door creaked open. Immediately, Henry was assaulted by cold air.

There he found Grace and Y/N huddled together between kegs. Grace’s blonde hair hung limply, her clothes wrinkled, but what stood out the most were her blue lips and pale skin.

Henry stumbled forward, “Christ, is she ok?”

Y/N shrugged in an attempt to hide a shiver. “Dunno, but we need to get out of here.” She stood on wobbly knees. Henry waved her away when she tried to help and soon both women were upstairs beneath blankets.

“Well, I guess I”ll just have to do without my barmaid today. You two stay up here and warm up. Keep an eye on her, alright?”

Y/N nodded as she absently put a kettle on the stove. 

“Do you want me to call Mr. Shelby?” he asked, setting Grace’s bag by the bed, having found it behind the bar.

“No, I’m gonna hop into bed with her, heat her up. Besides, there’s not much he could do. But you might want to get the window downstairs fixed.”

“Window?”

Y/N settled onto the bed, “The one in the backroom. It’d popped off its hinges. We tried to close it, but it wouldn’t budge.”

Henry shook his head. “Damn, alright. If you need anything I’ll be downstairs. And make sure Grace is up and about soon. I… Don’t feel like hiring another girl in this mess.” 

“Aww, you like her,” Y/N grinned.

“She works hard and is easy on the eyes,” he waved her off. “You can’t beat that on this side of town.”

“Mhmm. Go, get. If Tommy asks, try not to freak him out.”

The informality earned her a raised eyebrow but only silence answered. After last night she definitely wasn’t going to complain. She readjusted Grace’s blanket, the top of her bag coming into view. 

There was a pull, a gravity towards that bag, that little primal part of her brain that needed to uncover secrets. It wasn’t proper. But since when have I been proper? Y/N glanced towards Grace before reaching for the leather handles. 

Inside, she found several things that were pretty typical; however, a metal glint caught her attention. She’d already committed to the act of snooping, so she reached in to see. Her heart grew cold as her hand closed around a familiar sensation. She pulled out a small gun. 

Y/N’s hand began to shake. She had proposed the idea of Grace working with Inspector Campbell months ago. Gently, she set the gun down before continuing to rifle through the small bag. While the Garrison was in a rough part of town, it didn’t warrant a gun, did it?

It wasn’t long before her hand closed around a small metal object. She already knew what it was before she laid eyes on it, but that didn’t stop her. A badge. Fuck.

Grace shifted beneath the covers. Y/N quickly shoved the badge and gun where she found them. Her heart tried to beat out of her chest as she swung the purse to the foot of the bed, barely preventing it from colliding with the foot post.

Moments after her hand released the straps, the sound of feet pounding up the steps echoed through the hallway. Every instinct inside her told her to recoil, to hide what she’d done. She forced herself to turn toward Grace and not fidget as Thomas stormed into the room. Grace jumped, sleepily rolling towards the door.

“Hey Tommy,” Y/N said as calmly as she could. There’s a gun less than a foot from me.

“Are you two alright?” he asked. “Henry told me what happened.”

She rolled her eyes, “I told him not to freak you out.”

He stared at her like she’d grown a second head, “Is there a nice way to tell someone two people almost froze to death?”

“Eh, you’re just frazzled cause it’s us.” The color drained from his face as he stared down at them. Y/N grimaced. “I’ll try not to hit the nail so much on the head next time.”

Grace slowly sat up, seemingly unaware of what the others were saying. “We got out?”

“Yeah, Henry found us this morning. How’re you feeling?” Y/N reached out to brush her fingers over Grace’s skin. It was still cooler than she’d have liked, but miles better compared to only a few minutes ago.

She instinctively leaned into Y/N’s warm touch, “I can’t believe we survived the night.” 

Y/N froze, trying to figure out a way to tell Grace to shut the hell up. She didn’t get the chance to before Thomas closed the distance between them. He leaned forward to investigate Grace’s condition, falling back into that leadership role he found himself in way too often.

In his haste, his elbow pushed into Y/N’s hip, forcing her to scramble onto her feet before she was shoved off the bed. She cast a glare at him before her eyes landed on Grace’s purse.

She’s working for Campbell. The words almost pried themselves from her lips as she watched Thomas fuss over Grace. Then he brushed his thumb over Grace’s lower lip.

“Are you alright, Love?” His voice was soft, tender and sweet. The same voice he’d use under the cover of night when he and Y/N were alone. Except now, it wasn't for her.

She’d known this was happening, and, yet, it didn’t stop the dagger from ripping through her heart. It didn’t save her stomach from dropping through the floor. She whirled around, looking for something, anything, to distract her from what was happening. The teapot had started to scream.

She busied herself with making tea, even though stupidly, most of it consisted of waiting. Y/N found her fingers tapping on the counter, reciting her mother’s words about never stirring steeping tea. Someone cleared their throat, causing her to jump.

“Did you hear me?” Thomas asked.

“No, Shelby I didn’t hear you.” 

Thomas frowned. “I’m ‘Shelby’ now?”

Y/N shook her head, finally facing him, “Sorry, what did you say?”

“I was asking if you were alright.”

She glanced at Grace who was looking about the room, “As good as I can be, I guess.”

“Y/N, if this bothers you, all you have to do is say something.” He gestured towards the bed. 

“Oh, so I need to ask for your attention now?” Y/N couldn’t keep the venom from her voice. 

“You never indicated that-.”

“I never said I didn’t want to. I only said that I wouldn’t be… You know what? Now is not the time for this conversation.” Y/N rubbed her eyes. “We have to talk anyway.”

She paused. Y/N had told Aunt Pol about Grace but she had intentionally kept the information from Thomas. If she told him now it was as good as lying to him. He wouldn’t care that she didn’t have proof before, or that it could’ve gotten an innocent woman killed. His only concern would be her divided loyalties between him and her conscience.  

“How about the races? Later this week?” She glanced up at him, hoping his love of horses would win over his curiosity. 

He seemed to consider before finally nodding, “Wednesday?”

“Wednesday.”

[mostlysignssomeportents]

Fighting fiber was the right's dumbest self-own

With the deplatforming of forums where trumpists and right-wing figures congregate, there's a lot of chatter about whether and when private entities have the right to remove speech, and what obligations come with scale.

The most important - and overlooked - area of this discourse is the role that monopoly plays, and the role that anti-monopoly enforcement could play.

In short, the fact that being removed from Twitter and the app stores and Facebook and Amazon is so devastating is best addressed by weakening those companies by spreading out our digital life onto lots of platforms.

Not by strengthening them by giving them formal duties to either carry or remove speech based on its content. These duties will justify all kinds of anticompetitive activity, because only a very profitable company can afford to fulfil them.

It also turns the same companies that failed horribly to craft and uphold moderation standards into private-sector arms of powerful state actors (like domestic surveillance agencies) who defend their right to monopolize the digital sphere as necessary for national security.

(recall that the Pentagon intervened in the DoJ's breakup of AT&T in the 1950s, successfully arguing for a stay of execution on the grounds that the Korean War could not be effectively persecuted without AT&T's help - the company stayed intact for 30 years after that)

Competition in the platforms is important, but it's not the whole story. The First Amendment was drafted for newspapers, and most contemporary communications law comes from broadcast and cable regulation. The internet is not a newspaper or a TV station, after all.

The discussion of the difference between the American revolutionary era (or the heyday of broadcast TV) and the present moment focuses on technology, but there's a much more important difference to take account of: the presence or absence of a public sphere.

The First Amendment contemplates both a diversity of speech forums (newspapers, cafes, halls) alongside of public spaces that are *truly* public, owned by the people through their governments and tightly bound by 1A as to when and whether rules about speech can be enforced.

So if the Masonic Lodge won't let you give a speech from its stage, and the cafe throws you out for arguing, and the newspaper won't let you publish an op-ed, you can stand outside of those establishments with a sign or a bullhorn, leafleting and speaking your piece.

The government can still restrict your speech on the public sidewalk or in a public park, but not according to its content - only according to "time and manner" (for example, enforcing a noise ordinance after 9PM or ticketing you for blocking traffic).

The biggest difference between a world where we are locked indoors and connect to one another via the internet and the world we left behind is that there are *no public spaces* on the internet.

If a cafe kicks you out for your speech, you can picket the public right of way out front. If Twitter kicks you out for your views, you have no constitutionally guaranteed right to stand at its digital threshold and tell everyone who enters or leaves that you got a raw deal.

Now, the state provision of digital services isn't an unmitigated good. US governments at all levels have proven themselves to be utterly surveillance-addled, in thrall to the fallacy that spying on everyone will make us all safer.

But surveillance fears aren't why we lack democratically controlled tech. For that, you can thank the same right wingers who are so exorcised about deplatforming today, who, for a decade, have been the useful idiots of telcoms monopolists in the fight over public broadband.

American cable and telco monopolists have divided up the country so that the best most of us can hope for is a duopoly, while many others are burdened with monopoly carriers, and millions live in broadband deserts with no high-speed internet at all.

The poorer you are, the more your broadband costs and the worse it is. The more rural you are, the worse your broadband is and the more it costs. Homeowners with good broadband see their assets appreciate. If your home is outside a monopolist's profit zone, its price drops.

The internet barons like it that way. When Frontier went bankrupt last year, we got to see its internal docs. Guess what? If you have no choice other than Frontier, it treats you as an "asset" because you will pay more for worse service.

https://www.eff.org/deeplinks/2020/04/frontiers-bankruptcy-reveals-cynical-choice-deny-profitable-fiber-millions

Frontier cares about its share price (its execs are mostly paid in stock, not cash), and share prices are rigged by influential analysts who downrank any company that makes a capitol expenditure that takes more than five years to pay off.

That's why Frontier decided to walk away from the $800,000,000 in profits it would realize on a ten-year investment in fiber for three million households who currently make do with Frontier's failing copper network, which often consists of wires draped over trees.

We've been here before. For decades, you had to live in an urban, affluent area to get electricity; your country cousins burned coal for dinner and used oil-lamps to read by. The New Deal electrified the nation, extending universal service regardless of the business-case.

Electricity became a human right, and the US government extended it across the nation (though structural racism meant that it arrived late for majority Black settlements).

Long before covid, underserved towns realized that their very existence depended on decent broadband.

The initial experiments with municipal fiber were incredible, jaw-dropping successes. Towns that invested in fiber saw a vast expansion of job opportunities, access to global information and services, and new blood from telecommuters who relocated from big cities.

The telcos fucking hated this. How can you sell flaky access to copper wires draped over shrubs for $80/month when the city is wiring people up to networks that are *1,000-100,000 times faster* at a lower price?

In a competitive market, companies would have improved service and lowered prices to compete. Luckily (for monopolists), there's a cheaper solution: buy off state legislatures so they pass laws banning municipal broadband.

These laws were promulgated to GOP-dominated statehouses across the country, passed by right wing lawmakers who told their constituents they were "keeping government out of the internet."

This is a line that their footsoldiers dutifully parroted during the Obama years, then signed up to Trump FCC Chairman Ajit Pai's order that reversed a late-term-Obama FCC order banning state laws that interfered with municipal fiber project.

Unfortunately (for the right), reality has a well-known left-wing bias. 700+ US towns and cities have municipal fiber. They are the only Americans who consistently express satisfaction with their ISPs. Most of these towns vote Republican!

https://muninetworks.org/communitymap

Woe betide the rural "red" town that lacks municipal fiber. These have been mostly abandoned by cable companies, so their cable/DSL duopoly has become a DSL monopoly, with prices rising and quality of service falling.

https://ilsr.org/monopoly-networks/

Which brings me back to the First Amendment and public sidewalks. All those people who are trying to find a way to support the "free market*" and also justify demanding that dominant platforms be ordered to carry their speech are living in a hell of their own making.

* Adam Smith popularized the term "free markets" to describe markets free from "rentiers" who collect money without adding value...such as cable monopolists. He *definitely* didn't mean "markets free from government regulation."

Because here's the thing: your ISP - and Twitter, and Facebook, and Amazon - is a private company. It is not subject to the First Amendment. It can have any rules it wants about which lawful speech it will tolerate. It can sling your ass out the door on a whim.

You know who's bound by the First Amendment? You know who can't suppress your speech based on its content? You know who has to answer public records requests about why you got booted out of its service?

Your local government.

If you had a $70/month, 100GB fiber in your rural house, you could run a kickass P2P messaging server, and while you'd be right to worry about (covert, illegal) government surveillance (use encryption, kids) on that line, you would 100% have recourse if you got booted off.

It's not an automatic home run. The First Amendment has exceptions, even beyond "time and manner," and has been substantially eroded by GW Bush and his successors, in the name of fighting terror, animal rights activists and water defenders.

But a lawsuit against your town council for nuking your Turner Diaries fanfic server is a hell of a lot more likely to succeed than griping about Twitter mods failing to grasp the "irony" in your Auschwitz jokes.

The right's war on municipal broadband was its biggest self-own of the 2010s. And while it's not true that "a conservative is a liberal who's been mugged," it might be true that "a municipal broadband activist is a conservative who's been kicked off Twitter."

And this is one of those causes (like shutting down private prisons, or opposing foreign wars of aggression) where a substantial slice of the left and the right can come together (at the most local of levels!) to really Get Shit Done.

Because the other great victims of America's monopolized broadband are people of color, poor people and working class people (often the same people). They live with digital redlining, where they pay 2X for 1/100th the speeds of their affluent neighbors a block away.

They're the ones whose kids are doing homework in Taco Bell parking lots (and getting flunked on their tests because creepy remote proctoring services penalize them for taking their tests in a beat up hatchback and not a private room).

The ones who can't videoconference with dying relatives in ICUs or doctors for telemed consults. Who can't apply for work-at-home jobs, or just play games and watch movies and upload their fun Tiktoks and Youtube videos.

The current system serves about 300 senior execs at telco monopolists, and a few thousand investors, and savagely fucks over everyone else. Even rich people in big cities usually can't buy fiber at any price.

It's time for our four decade Atlas Shrugged LARP to end. It's time for a bipartisan fiber consensus.

Image: Olaus Linn (modified) https://thenounproject.com/term/tin-can-phone/15140/

CC BY: https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/4.0/

[popculturebuffet]

Don Rosa: “The Magnificent Seven (Minus 4) Caballeros!” or City Slickers 3: The Crystal City

Saludos Amigos, the Ride of the Three Caballeros returns! After some time off to take care of other seasonal commissions and to finally get the life and times fo scrooge mcduck back on a steady pace, everyone’s three favorite chappies in snappy serapes are back for another go round.  This time i’ts back to comics one last time as we take a look at “The Magnificent Seven (Minus 4) Caballeros: which was the penultimate story from Duck Maestro Don Rosa, and as a result the final one set in present day, as while the next one would have a wraparound segment, it’s a flashback tiding up the one last bit of Scrooge’s past Rosa hadn’t clicked into place yet, and thus we’ll get to that eventually as part of life and times. And honestly it serves as a fittng and satisfying conclusion to Donald’s story. 

The geneisis of this one is rather simple in comparison to “The Three Caballeros Ride Again!”. Don Rosa REALLY enjoyed writing TTCRA, wanted to have another adventure with Donaldo and his boys, and given the previous story was a huge hit likely had no trouble convincing his publisher. And since he set the first story in Panchito’s home country of mexico, it only made sense to have the next story in Jose’s home country of Brazil. Adding to it Rosa specifically wanted to avoid using the amazon rainforest this go round, as to him pretty much every story involving Brazil focused on the massive and wonderful rainforest. And while a great setting, Rosa knew there was much more to the country and wanted to show it off. And to his credit.. he’s 100% right as i’ve seen dozens upon dozens of stories set in the rainforest but not nearly as many set ANYWHERE ELSE IN BRAZIL. If their lucky we get to see Rio, but that’s about it. So kudos to Rosa for wanting to display more of a beautiful country and show it had more to offer than merely it’s biggest attraction. As for what treasure they’d be after, the lost city of crystal stuck out to him, having been described in a goverment document that was so degraded when it was found there wasn’t much left to go on and searched for by a famous explorer who was the basis for indiana jones whose name I forgot but we’ll run into his name again later. So yeah not as much setup here and what tiny bit is left can be covered when we get to our villian. So with all that out of the way, let’s ride on!

We open with Scrooge firing Donald and throwing his ass out on the street, berating him for screwing up and then telling him to be back early tommorow to make up for his firing. Then Gladstone literally walks all over him becausae he’s a jackass, and Daisy then shrieks at donald for you know, being stuck on the floor, having messed up the shirt she ironed for him without.. actually you know asking for context, HITTING HIM, then telling him to pick her up for dinner at the ritz. 

It’s like this intro was perfectly designed in a lab to piss me off. All three of the characters who on a good day ar excellent but on a bad are outright monsters, at their worst, treating Donald like crap, i.e. the reason to call them monsters, and generally abusing him for flimsy reasons. And again Daisy HIT DONALD. No that’s not right, she shoryukened his ass! She upercutted him! God damn. And her just casually doing that is played for laughs. In a lesser Rosa story this would only get worst and be “oh haw haw”.. instead... to my delighted suprise.. this is all treated seriously. Yeah really. Instead of being treated for laughs like normal, and not being a dark enough work comedically to make it work like say It’s Always Sunny, Donald is seriously depressed, beaten down phsycially and mentlaly and when the boys, who’ve been present for all of this and tried to help him up off the ground, ask why he takes this.. the answer is pretty damn bleak. 

Just.. holy shit that’s dark.. and I applaud Rosa for not only recognizing this isn’t always funny, but for actually tackling it. And I will grant Donald being a butt monkey CAN be funny, especially when it’s caused by his own ego. It’s the basis of his entire career. It’s good stuff. My issue has been more that Rosa sometimes dosen’t get that either some aspects have aged poorly, even by the 90′s, and thus dosen’t adjust them or play them more for drama, sprinkling a bit of that in with the comedy. So to see him do that HERE, to acknowledge in some way his own faults and do something with them.. i’m very proud of him and it warms my heart that he could do something like this that shows he could grow and change, even SECONDS from the end of his career, but with no intention of ending his career at that point or even after finishing his next and last story. It just ended up happening that way and as such this story carries even more weight as for all intensive purposes, this is the final tale of Donald Duck for Don Rosa’s Barksian universe. This is the last big tale before whatever triggers Scrooge’s retirement, the last tale he wrote in the here and now. And while not perfect for some reasons we’ll get to from a character perspective? It’s a pretty good note to go out on. 

Anyways Donald somehow makes this SADDER by mentoing, when Huey, Dewey or Louie tries to make him smile that he hasn’t smiled in some time before sadly loping off to make their dinner before buying daisy’s. 

Yeah... I just.. I need a moment.... Here’s my asistant iwth an important message

Okay i’ve regained my composuer.. and yes I will be shwoing that off at every opportunity. I have generous friends. Now where were we? Ah yes with their uncle in a depression hole, can relate, they figure he needs a nice gift to get him out of it. The boys think he needs friends.. and of course the boys come to mind, though the fact their on the other end of the contient proves a problem.. but Huey, Dewey or Louie has a solution and takes the boys to the Woodchucks because of course they do> Their primary go to for anything is the guide which to be fair contains the entire sum of the world’s knowledge in a guidebook. 

So the boys, with the other two likely filled in on the way, plan becomes clear when they stop by Woodchuck HQ and talk to the guy in charge of the badge department, which ahs a fun acronym because of course it does, this is one of Rosa’s faviorite running gags and mine as well.. I just don’t have it in me stamina wise to type the whole thing out. Point is the boys ask that Donald be used as courier for a special shipment of badge’s to Rio. The authority guy is understandably a bit reluctant to give a non-woodchuck this duty, but the boys remind him that in a previous story, not sure if it’s barks or rosa’s, Donald apparently not only found the last remaning pieces of fort duckberg but saved them from the mill. As a result the Fort, which was the original HQ of the woodchucks until Scrooge threw them out, was apparently rebuilt. So the guy in charge is more than willing to not only give donald the duty, but an open ended plain ticket, i.e a vacation. The Nephews do have to guilt him a bit more to get donald a condsensed pamphlet based on the brazil chapter of the guidebook which at this point seems like overkill. Just.. buy him a guidebook boys. IT’s a bit much to ask that a portion of your heavily guarded and protected text be given to your uncle for a vacation and seems like a tad of a stretch but the gag, including the boys getting badges in guilt and convincing, makes it work. 

So after the boys set off to telegram the rest of the Cabs, we cut to donald arriving in rio, passing christ the redeemer on the way

The Rio Woodchucks greet donald and take the package for him, giving him new orders to go by cable car to the observation deck atop Sugar Loaf Mountain. This is a real mountain in Brazil and frustrated Rosa because he couldn’t find any pictures of what the station looked like in the 1950′s, despite as he put in his notes having eager fans from the region, researchers and other contacts try to find it, settling for having vintage cable cars pulling into modern stations he got from photos from said contacts. If I hadn’t said it before i’ll say it now the man is a BEAST when it comes to getting things acurate, only bending it if it helsp the story and still making sure his drawings are as accurate as possible. It’s one of Rosa’s most adimirable traits. 

Donald took a Donde, some form of streetcar there, hanging on the back and .. uh I have no words for this..

Donald Duck ran into a horse and it farted in his face. Just... why though. This horse naturally is Senior Marteniz, with Panchito currently being thrown out of a cable car for trying to put his horse in there which is fair. What isn’t is people having an issue with his hat. I mean.. people wear hats. I know it’s a bit big for the tight fit of the cable car but still it’s a bit weird to throw a strop about anywhere outside a theater or sports place where he’d be actively obstructing people’s view. And it appears to be the same weirdly crazy asshole.. Imean again the horse thing is resonable but calling it a “crazy hat” I mean yes it’s a big hat.. but ... you you do know mexico exists right? And sombreros? or other cultures at all you weirdly specific douche? 

At the top, after a quick and funny hat swap gag, Panchito reveals the triplets called him here.. as did Jose who assuemd it was  lovely senorita.. who uppercuts him. And it’s STILL more reasonable to uppercut some rando hitting on you, if not by much, than Daisy’s Domestic Abuse. Anyways the three put things together and Donald realizes via flashback the boys hoped his smile would return and said he’d have help. 

Donald, being utterly beaten down by life, apologizes.. but it turns out the boys needed this as much as he did. Jose’s night club career is flopping hard, with his agent unable to get him bookings and Panchito has barely scraped any money together for his ranch dream from last time. It’s a nice touch: That the boys , while having more exciting careers have just as much strife as Donald does and as much problem. It helps make them feel as real as donald, as characters with their own lives and adventures outside of him and their own wants and needs and it really helps the story come alive. Jose however has some suggestions to escape their blues. 

But Panchito suggests instead they go for some adventure and go diamond hunting in the plains of brazil, which the two agree to.. and Donald’s a big gung hoe about carving his way through human flesh.. just jesus man.. get a therapist. Your Ducktales counterpart did and he seems mildly well adjusted. So the adventure is on.. and they all toss their hats.. off a mountain. First thing on the provisoins list hats.  Before we head on I just wanted to point out even though most of my audience here is likely unaware the movie exists that this Comic honestly reminds me of the 1991 comedy City Slickers starring Billy Crystal, Daniel Stern and Bruno Kirby. If your struggling on the name Daniel Stern, think Marv from Home Alone. 

No.. the RIGHT marv. I may not be a huge fan of Home Alone but we respect Daniel sterns in this house. And yes if you didn’t know French Stewart played Marv in one of the sequels now you do. And i’m sorry you know that. 

There we go. Right Marv and Wrong Dad from Christmas story. Back on point City Slickers is a terrific comedy I finally saw a few weeks back about three friends all facing mid life crisises, with Billy Crystal being unsatisfied with his career and undsure WHY he does, Daniel Sterns having cheated on his shrewish wife with one of his employees whose also now pregnant, and Bruno Kirby being a ladies man whose faced with the prosepct of settling down, go for a weeks vacation to a cattle drive, as Brunos character tends to set up these trips but this time they actually need it. They encounter cows, assholes and a cowpoke named Curly. It’s pretty good. 

But yeah they both feel kinda similar, if with far less drama and crumbling marraiges on the cabs end because you know, this is for children. I’m pretty sure it’s just a concidence but given Rosa’s love of film, even if it’s more 30′s and 40′s films, and how the City Slickers seems right up his alley, I wouldn’t he suprised if he saw it and simply took some slight inspiration from it. Either way the similarity makes me giggle a bit. Again the plots aren’t all the same but the basic setup is about the same, complete with the main character’s family making sure he goes. It’s a bit of a stretch but I thought it was pointing out and while this review is comissioned, how I go about it isn’t so if I want to take a few paragraphs to compare this to an excellent comedy you should defintely see with two underated actors, maybe three i know nothing of bruno kirby other than the man had horse allergies and thus had to take heavy medication every day so good on him, and a lot of fun. 

So our premise and pastiche firmly in place, our heroes fly out to the frontier to adventure and Donald even thought ahead on them needing two more mounts and bought them from the local farmer for 100 bucks: It turns out their a llama, who jose takes and an old ox which donald reluctantly takes and wonders how to steer.. which I just got the double pun. Nice touch.

So our heroes head on with Donald expressing suprise they aren’t in the jungle like the movies, Jose correcting him, you get the bit he’s going for. But as they travel Donald not only breaks out the pamphlet but also , once jose mentions finding el dorado, casually mentions he and Scrooge already found it in columbia, and when Jose incrediously mentions that maybe he also already found the lost mines of the incas.. turns out yeah they did that too. Dont’ know if it was a barks or rosa story for either, since I didn’t check that part of Rosa’s notes, but it brings the scene into greatness as the boys not only belivie donald and figure he’s not pulling their legs.. but marvel at his life. And it’s here Donald smiles a bit.. he’s already got his smile back realizing that as miserable as his life can be.. he’s still seen and done things no man, even his globetrotting pals, has sever done before or sense. Found long lost places, solved mysteries and rewrote history.. sometimes literally sometimes in the “found things that changed historical knowledge” sense. Point is.. he realizes he has more to his life than he thought and maybe it isn’t so miserable after all. 

Donald also mentions the local waters are filled with stuff and the other Cabs mounts quickly climb on his continuting the gag of the Cabs assuming donald’s some big expert by accident. For me personally it varies in how funny it is, sometimes it’s grating othertimes it’s genuinelly pretty good, your mileage will vary. We then get a page and a half of slapstick with various animals and this gag repeated and it’s eh. Not bad, and there’s a REALLY great visual bit where donald gets squeezed by an anaconda and not only is he comically and tightly squeezeled, but it takes a few panels for it to wear off. Other than that not bad stuff but nothing especially new or really that funny. 

Our heroes soon find a pit trap.. and a capybara in said pit trap.. which I also give myself credit for recognizing on sight. Who dosen’t like a good capybara? Their basically a large brazillian rodent if you were curious. Donald asks what can they do and hte boys take it as a secret test of character, and not just donald being kind of lost and decide to help free trapped animals instead of treasure hunt which Donald, much like his entire life, just reacts to with “what what are we doing now?”. But they manage to free the greatful Capybara and we get this inspired bit. 

Naturally the sheer confusion of seeing this as well as being confronted with the relaly bizzare nature of his world, i.e. having both a rodent whose an old friend and one that’s clearly just a regular animal causes Donald to fall into the hole. He’s soon found by the natives.. and here we get one of the worst aspects of this story and one I honestly didn’t expect to encounter given Rosa’s research: Calling these indgeinous people’s.. “indians”. Yes really. 

We were in 2004 by this point, and even in the cultural cesspool of the early 2000′s, a time where micheal jacksons actions towards children were used for reams of jokes and where R.Kelly got off for the same just because “he makes the good musics”. What i’m saying is even in this time in history, we knew better than to use the term indian and I remember distinctily the term native american being in my text books even at this point as a kid. So Rosa, a world traveled knowledgable adult.. has no excuse for this, not even “It was the 50′s when this was set and they’d used this” as while he had Scrooge being mildly racist in “The Empire Builder from Callisota”, he didn’t you know, have scrooge use the fucking n word or other slurs during the story because you know that’s racist and he knows it’s racist. I’m coming down so hard on him because I expect BETTER. I can, even if it bothers me and I will give out about it, KINDA ignore the daisy stuff because domestic violence against men wasn’t as wellk nown, so while it dosen’t play well and I won’t pretend to enjoy it I can at least understand why rosa thought this was funny when it isn’t> This? The man clearly should know better, should know to use correct terms, and is usually better about this, but just isn’t here and for one of his last stories it’s REALLY depressing to see a man I have a ton of respect for fail this badly. It’s just a small element of hte story but it really sticks out badly and says bad things about an otherwise good man. Even a good man can really fuck up and Don.. honestly really fucked up even when, normally his portryal of indigneous people’s is really good.. and is for the rest of the story. This is just a really bad if really easy to miss bit I feel he deserves some flak over it. He knew better. This story proves he knows better in other ways and knows indgenous people deserve resepect. He just dosen’t show it in his laungauge and it’s disheartaning. 

Anyways, the Natives drop donald off with their cheif.. who turns out to not only speak perfect english, but has a rather nice modern setup and clothes. He’s the son of the former cheif whose dad, using a secret crystal city with a rich mine, paid for his son to go get an education in the US and hopefully bring back knowledge for his people. Instead all he learned was to be a greedy selfish asshat who calls his own people “savages”. This is what i’m talking about: While the indian thing is bad and Rosa should feel bad.. the rest of the story does treat these tribal peoples with genuine grace and care, as our main villian is shown as one partly because rather than respect his culture and simply use thenew knowledge of the outside world to help his people by educating them, bringing back new techniques and medcidnes while mixing it with thier old culture, the bastard prince simply wrote them off as savages and used his new learnings to rule them and get them into trapping, a buisness i’ts later made clear at the end of hte story they don’t like and only followed him because he’s their chief. And it dosen’t even come off as them following him as chief because their stupid, mainly just because of tradition and knowing they can’t escape him and he’d just find htem and find some way to cowtow them. The tribe here are innocent victimes forced into a life they don’t want by an asshole who became a colonizer instead of a hero and leader to his people and simply wants to sell them out as soon as possible to fiance a fancy and comfy life for himself.  The bad guy here is recycled from Rosa’s pre scrooge work, and works well here and honestly.. is a good villian and a good antagonist, something Rosa struggled with sometimes when not just using what barks made. He’s a chillingly realistic villian: someone who would step on where he came from instead of helping it and again treats these people as simple victims forced to be minons by circumstance and as the end of the story shows, and we’ll get to that, not nearly as stupid or “savage” as this cruel bastard thinks. And naturally being a cruel bastard, Chief, since his name isn’t given, plans to ransom donald as he naturally has no hangups about selling people AND rare animals. Thankfully Donald’s only a prisoner for a bit as Donald’s ox makes a back door and with the help of their mounts the boys free all the trapped animals and escape.. with Senior Martinez accidently taking the Chief’s necklace. Turns out that’s the sigal that signals his right to rule, so he figures if the tribe finds out it’s missing they’ll rightfully dump his ass and tells them to give chase, which the cabs find out about via a wild parrot. It’s better not to ask. 

So our heroes head into the wilderness to loose them and find a rocky slope, making their way up to some more plains. They now have both a high vantage, and a place to set up camp so do so. They also found out Martinez took the necklace, and now know why the chief is after them, but Panchito decides to keep it for now till they can figure out what to do with it. SO over the camp fire Donald decides that if they can find this lost mine that the Cheif’s dad used to go to,  they won’t need to look for diamonds the hard way and Jose’s skepticism is rebuffed by the fact that Donald’s found plenty of lost cities with scrooge.  So donald brings up the legend of the crystal city, with the guy who found it being colonel percy fawceet, and brings up more adventures you get the bit by now. Point is he mentions a crystal arch lighting up at night to ward off intruders.. and sure enough our heroes happen to be right by it, complete with a crystal road that simply had been covered by shale over the years. Donald decides to get some rest and head out in the morning, with a valid explination as to why not to worry about hteir perusers till then: It’s so dark that even if they left a trail, they can’t follow.. which the evil cheif agrees to though he finds the trail they dug up, pointing as an arrow and now realizing his dad’s treasure was real, plans to naturally exploit the hell out of it.  So the next morning, bright and early, our heroes have built a raft, and are greatful they looked in first as the waters are stalked with dangerous predatory creatures. How htey haven’t all killed each other, I do not no, but it looks cool so i’ll shut up now. So our heroes leave their mounts behind and head in up the stream via the raft and find the massvie and awe inspiring lost city.. as for why it hasnt’ been found they soon figure out why: THe stream in is dangerous, and jose figures it was delebratly packed with dangerous animals, and thus few would think to go in there, and the only ohter way up is scaling the cliffs it’s build into, but as the cities built into the sides of said cliffs, no one can see it from a distance. It’s a birlliant way to justify just WHY something remained lost and somthing barks is tremendous at. Our heroes soon find though that the canal go deeper and approaches a water fall.. and thus jump off loosing their only way back and thus heading in deeper to see if they can find another way out. Meanwhile the Cheif has found the swamp and recongizes his dad mentoning it and being a greedy jackass, and suddenly realizing that maybe his people won’t want to loot the city their swarn to protect, tells them to guard the Cabs mounts while he goes on ahead. 

Our heroes journey deeper into the unknown and after coming across pick axes mine carts and the like find the mines of fear.. lit with crystals and with wall to wall gems. So they’ve sucessful founds the lost minds of ophir, set up by one of king solomon’s realtiives. The actual King Solomons Mines had been found in a barks story, naturally and is also likely the basis for the african mines level in the ducktales game. 

Donald being donald.. ends up sitting on a giant anaconda who swallows him whole as he dosen’t realize just how big the thing is when his pals mention it to him, and only escapes through Dumb Luck, as is the duck family way, lighting a match and causing the Anadonda to spit him out and run... unfortunately not only does Panchtio loudley announce he dosen’t have his pistols, The Chief shows up with a gun. Naturally he intends to plunder, because jackass you see, and intends to leave the cabs stranded, with the anaconda picking them off one by one when they inevitibly have to sleep while he’ll come back with inflatable rafts and boats to loot the rest. The cabs bemoan the fact that their fucked.. and then this happens. 

So with that Donald FINALLY snaps, tired of taking the world’s shit and determined not to be the looser everyone around him but his boys clearly think he is. Seriously Donald.. dump. her. ass. It’d also tell you to dump gladstone in a shallow ditch but given your love for hacking through human flesh and his luck I don’t want you to impale yourself. So thus.. Donald stops getting polite and starts getting badass.. shouting THAT’S THE LAST STRAW BEFORE.. .. welll...

Bad. Ass. Also who knew Donald was part Kree? Wait .. how though? Questions for later. So as Donald gives the asshole his RICHELY deserved asshole a beat down, the anaconda pops up and grabs the boat.. with Donald STILL fighting the Chief the whole time. Holy shit. If this is your last time writing a character in a lead role what a note to go out on holy jesus. The cabs however show their CLOSE to as badass with Panchito roping the anconda and Jose attacking it once it curls around.. and unlike last time where his umbrella was quickly disarmed, here the Anaconda eats the tip.. only for Jose to expand it and on Panchito’s command, hook the damn thing. I didn’t relaize till writing this up just HOW badass this story’s climax is.. just holy shit this is awesome incarnate. 

Donald ends up loosing the fight eventually as asshole whomps him on the head with the gems.. and sends donald flying, destroying the gate regulating the water thanks to freeing the anaconda. As a result asshole escapes.. for about five seconds till he drops over the falls, presumibly to his MUCH deserved death and even if he surivives, likely wont’ for long without anything to defend himself. Goodbye asshole, you were a good villian but you’ll be better tarantula chow. 

Our heroes are still stranded.. but Panchito notices the Anadconda escaping and well... he decides to equal donald in badassery. Again..words do not do this justice. 

Our heroes disembark, and find that the tribe has been held at bay by the noble steeds, and as I mentioned earlier, and why despite the frequent use of .. that word i’ve said enough already, this story isn’t too bad. The tribe, once free.. are perfectly intellegent and nice, only in the game because of tradition that asshole abused. Their going to head deeper into the valley on the offchance asshole makes it back so he can’t find them. So the tribe is free and seeing the emblem as the symbol of their opressor and not wanting it, they can likely make a new necklace honestly just without the gems, Panchito gets to keep it. So our heroes won, the adventure is over and our heroes head back to rio

In our final scene we get our wrap up with our heroes back in Rio to enjoy what’s left of their vacation.. which given the scope of events only two days of it have passed so far, so it’s nicely implied they have a day or two before Donald has to go back where he can just.. enjoy himself. Have an actual vacation now his soul is whole again. Our heroes went to the authorities, and it turns out the Chief was one of the most infamous trappers in Brazil, and is now again either dead or in no way shape or form easily able to come back into the country.. and when he does, he’ll now have every officer in the country on his ass.So in short he’s pretty fucked and i’m pretty happy about that.  Naturally our heroes dont’ get to keep the mines, because well... it belongs ina museum.. or to become a museum and cultural landmark and the boys know and respect that. But Jose and Panchito both still got something out of the deal: for starters they have their confidence back, as seeing tthey could keep up with donald after realizing what a legend their friend is restored their own weary souls. Meanwhile, Jose’s newfound fame as the man who found a new brazilian cultural touchstone means his agent was able to get him booked up for a year, while Panchito , after consulting with the good senior martenez, decided ot keep the broach, and use it to get their ranch. And Donald? What did he find?

Donald found his smile again. He’s found himself again. After letting life beat him to near death, to just a souless shell. he’s found the real Donald. He’s realized that despite Scrooge’s finaical abuses he lives a rich full life. It’s part of why I compared the story to city slickers. While Donald’s life is far worse off than Billys, like him he finds himself again after the rousing adventure. And who knows what his future holds? Given Scrooge’s grave picture, yes Rosa drew that, he probably does marry daisy and work for the old bat.. but maybe now he can fight back, refuse to let htem walk all over him and actually find a healthy relationship with daisy and with his uncle before his uncle finally retires to Goldie’s loving arms. I could be wrong, it could be same as it ever was just he gets angry again.. but I like to think of something better for our boy. A better life and one more fufilled and more happy and one where he finally finds his pot of gold. He may not of found it yet but well.. there’s always another rainbow and he realizes that now just as his uncle did years ago. Donald is finally whole again to find his hapniess and a better life. Maybe with daisy, maybe with scrooge, maybe without them. Probably without Gladstone because he needs to cut that tumor out of his life, but still, he’s found himself and sometimes that’s all you need to find your purpose. So with that warm thought in my head our heroes play us out one last time. Well not for the restrospective obviously but still. 

Final Thoughts; While I do prefer the previous story, on going through this again for the review, I did find this story utterly charming and a great way to send off our boys and Donald for Rosa’s work. While again that one word is very unfortunate and Rosa should’ve known better, otherwise the story is pretty imaculate, using history to build a thrilling story with tons of character and a tremendous arc for Donald. And as I said the villian is excellent and overally the story is pretty great. Maybe held back a bit by the racisim, but the rest of the story is so joyous, badass and well crafted, it’s easy enough to override the less savory aspects. Dosen’t mean they didn’t need to be noted it just means this story is magificent and as usual for Rosa’s work I recommend it. 

Next time on the Ride of the Three Cablleros: We go to Disney Juinor for Mickey’s Perfecto Day! ..... whelp at least it’s a short one. 

And if you’d like to comission your own review, their just five bucks, jsut direct message me, tell me what you’d like, and I will send you the link on my paypal and get to it asap. Thank you so much for reading and have a happy holiday. 

[classic80sand90smovieloves2]

Traveling in time with Marty McFly would include~

(Not my gif)(Requested by anonymous)

(I wrote this as a slight friends to lovers type of scenario so I hope thats okay! Also, this is based on just the first movie so if you’d like certain time periods or something then feel free to request.)

- You’d been working for Doc alongside Marty for a while so of course you’d be invited to help with the DeLoreans send off.  Doc was excited, the tapes were rolling; Everything was going great...until it wasn’t. 

- The Libyans arrived and ruined everything, forcing you to join Marty inside the DeLorean in an attempt to save your skin. Soon enough the two of you were going through a terrible blast to the past, still mourning your lost friend and scared half to death. 

- Fast Forward a little, or rather rewind a lot, and the two of you are sat panicking worse than ever in the front seat of a stylish time machine. You get out of the car as quickly as he does, gazing at the long empty road and the sign that proves you aren’t where you’re supposed to be. 

“Hey Marty?”

“Yeah....”

“Do me a favor and pinch me...hard.”

- And so he does, asking that you return the favor once you yelp in pain. The two of you shut your eyes tight, praying that once you open them again you’ll be back home in bed but alas, no luck. 

“I don’t think we’re dreaming.” You say, grabbing onto his arm and feeling more helpless than you’ve ever felt before. 

“Yeah, I think you’re right.” He responds, his eyes returning to the Lyon Estates sign once more. 

- With nothing else to do, you help him stash the DeLorean and start your long journey to town. 

- Once you get there, you’re torn between being amazed and horrified. I mean, you’re in the 1950′s! ...But you’re also stuck in the 1950′s. 

- You’re sure you look downright insane to the locals, stumbling around like you’re experiencing everything for the first time, but you frankly don’t care. You’re just wondering what you’ll have to do to return home, or if you’ll ever get to return home for that matter. 

- The two of you walk into the diner and take your seats at the luncheonette. You end up interrupting and ordering for the two of you yourself, deciding to be merciful to your frazzled friend and not wanting to suffer from anymore secondhand embarrassment. 

“What my friend here meant to say was that we’d like two coffee’s, Decaf.”

- Marty rubs a hand down his face and leans his forehead against your shoulder, groaning quietly in “silent” gratitude. You get your coffees, taking a sip just as the door of the diner swings open to reveal the one and only Biff. 

- You soon find out that the young man beside you is Marty’s father to which you can only respond with a whispered “Holy Crap McFly, your dads hot.”. Marty still isn’t sure how to feel about it though at the time he just gave you a disturbed look. 

- Now it’s at this time that I should mention: Marty has had a pretty big crush on you for a while now. The main reason he hadn’t asked you out yet was because he really didn’t want to lose you as a friend or have to face you every time he visited Doc; in case you did wind up rejecting him. 

- The reason I’m telling you this is because after Biff and his friends make fun of Marty’s “life preserver”, he notices the babe sitting beside him. Now Biff wouldn't be Biff if he didn’t try to flirt with a dorks girl so he gives you a line and Marty uses everything within him not to launch himself at the bully.  

- He has a silent victory when you just scoff at the boy and turn back to your coffee. Biff gives one of those tough guy, undeterred responses and finishes his threat to George before walking out with his buddies. 

- You turn back to Marty, watching awkwardly as he uncomfortably stares down his father. After a minute, you lightly hit his arm and give him a look, trying to make him stop. The two of you have a silent argument, giving each other different facial expressions and mouthing words. You’re both interrupted by Goldie's speech.

- You’re the one to first notice George’s absence, prompting you to pull Marty out of his seat and push him out the doors of the diner. 

“You know y/n, you’re really taking this whole time travel thing way too well!”

“That’s because I’ve got you Marty.” He melts. 

- You’re sort of just forced to watch from afar as the whole car accident scene unfolds. You spend the rest of the day awkwardly waiting outside the families house with nowhere else to go. 

- You have to jog to keep up with him after he runs out of the house. He explains everything to you at a mile a minute, grabbing you by the arm and telling you that it’s really time to find Doc. 

~One extremely long conversation about how you’re from the future, the mechanics of time travel, and other interesting tidbits later~

- Marty and you get dressed up in 50′s wear, which he finds particularly adorable on you, and head over to the school. You quickly come across his father and without even thinking, you storm up to him, ripping the sign off his back and standing up to the jerks who were tormenting him.

- In theory, your actions are harmless but they proved to have a much bigger effect than you intended. George thanks you, commenting shyly how nobodies ever stood up for him before to which you respond that nobody deserves to be treated that way. 

“You’re beautiful.... I-I mean, you’re heart is! Not that you aren’t! You’re very attractive, it’s just... What I mean to say is that you’re very nice.” Shit. 

- It became increasingly obvious that George was now infatuated with you. You’d just royally screwed up, and all because you wanted to be a decent person. 

- As Marty whisked George away, neither of you could ignore the fact that the boy was trying to look back at you as he was being pulled. 

- When Marty attempted to introduce his parents to each other he found that it was completely in vain. His mother hardly even noticed his father and his father didn’t even seem to mind all that much. Why? Because he was too busy sneaking glances at you. 

“Oh dear. We certainly have a predicament on our hands.” Doc muttered once you all joined back with each other. 

“Great job y/n. You made my dad fall in love with you in what? Two minutes?” Marty quipped sarcastically. Not that he could really blame his father, he was sure he would have fallen for you even quicker. Well now you had to think of a plan, and fast. 

- Lunchtime came and you were sure you had the perfect excuse to let the boy down easy, getting him and Lorraine together in the process. You and Marty made your way to the boys table, sitting down and greeting the nervous boy who looked ecstatic to see you. 

- George greeted you back, saying how he was hoping he’d see you again and how he wanted to thank you by taking you out for a milkshake or something. This was your chance. You opened your mouth and...

“Actually George, you see, we’re kind of dating. You know, going steady.” Your mouth snapped shut, eyes widening as you turned to look at Marty. 

“Oh....” George replied somewhat dejected. 

- You quickly jumped in, saying how you knew he had a thing for Lorraine and how you wanted to help them get together. He tried to deny it before he shyly asked you what you had in mind. 

- You try to give him some dating advice but he quickly decides that it would never work. After all, how’s he supposed to win over Lorraine’s affection when she’s obsessed with “Calvin”. 

- You help Marty dress up as “Darth Vader” all the while seriously questioning his sanity and how he thinks it’s a good idea. 

- He gives you this smug, prideful look when George approaches you the next day, rambling about how an alien told him he has to ask Lorraine out. You just smack him on the arm and start to try and coach his father. 

- Marty somewhat argues with you on what his father should do, giving George the typical male dating advice while you give him the more sensible “what females actually want” advice. 

- You sit back with him while George goes to talk with Lorraine, giving him puppy dog eyes while asking to get a good old fashioned malt.

“You know it’s seriously unfair when you do that to me.” He says, digging into his pockets. The kiss on the cheek you give him is worth the trouble. 

- Sitting back and watching things go South after he messes with Biff. You realize that things are only going to get worse between him, his mother and his father if you don’t do something so once he’s finished with his getaway, you run over and lay one on him. 

- You’re hoping that once Lorraine sees him with “his girlfriend” she’ll realize he’s off limits and be more open to getting with George. It does seem to somewhat work but it certainly makes things between you and your friend a bit awkward. 

- You can’t help but think about how you actually enjoyed that kiss and how he seemed to just as much. You pull away from him awkwardly, whispering an apology to him while he shyly reassures you that it’s fine. 

- The dance is your last chance to get Marty’s parents back together so you really have to be at the top of your game. Lorraine obviously doesn’t have a date so Marty uses his influence with her to persuade her to double date with him, you and George.

- The plan will go as planned, Marty will convince her to come out to the car with him, “force himself on her” and George will come to her rescue. Except before Marty can even think about going through with the plan, Biff comes in and Marty gets locked in the trunk. 

- Long story short, George punches Biff, woos Lorraine and Marty performs on stage before saying goodbye to his parents. You and Marty have a tough final goodbye with Doc and successfully make it into the future, or rather, where you’re from. Doc gets shot, again, but this time he’s equipped with a bulletproof vest and survives, much to your (ecstatic) surprise. 

- He drops you and Marty off at the boys house, saying goodbye before departing into the future. Marty, whose arm had been around your shoulder as you watched, turned you around and confessed that he’s liked you for a very long time. You admit that you like him too and the two of you lean in for your first kiss as an actual item. 

- You walk home that night happier than ever and in the morning you meet up with him so that the two of you can have a well deserved relaxing day together. Well, that was what you were planning on doing before Doc showed up to whisk you away for another time travel adventure.

- You and Marty share a look before getting into the DeLorean, eager yet scared to see what’s in store for you. 

[365days365movies]

Western August I: Stagecoach (1939) - Recap and Review

Let’s start at the beginning...almost,

The Western arguably was born with the 1903 film, The Great Train Robbery. This 12-minute short film is a classic, and one of the earliest achievements in film-making. It’s also, unsurprisingly, a Western, and based on an actual train robbery. At the time it was made, the Wild West had only really ended a few years prior, with its heyday being about 40 years past. Which, yeah, is CRAZY. People who remembered the Wild West lived into the 1950s and ‘60s. It seems like so long ago, and it was, but it was still relatively recent from a historical standpoint.

From then, the Western remained a staple of cinema, and would be so for over half a century. And then, enter John Ford. Born in 1894, the Irish American director began his career in 1914 as an assistant and handyman, often working with his older brother Francis. Eventually, John took his place as a director, starting with silent films, especially westerns. Starting with the very successful film The Iron Horse in 1924, he quickly rose to stardom. He transitioned from silent films to talkies pretty effortlessly, and continued his streak. All the while, he was also one of the first directors to have a roster of actors in his company. You know how Tim Burton always uses Johnny Depp and Helena Bonham Carter? Or how the Coen Brothers always use Frances McDormand and John Goodman? Or Wes Andersen with Bill Murray and Owen Wilson? Yeah, that started with John Ford and...ugh...

Before I start...fuck John Wayne.

Dude was a racist homophobic asshole, and absolutely a dick. Look it up, or don’t if you’d rather not have one of cinemas most iconic faces completely ruined for you. But OK, outside of that one time that he said that the Native Americans were “selfishly trying to keep the land for themselves”, or that he believed in white supremacy over uneducated blacks...yeah, he’s a DICK...

Marion Robert Morrison was born in Iowa in 1907, and began his film career after becoming injured while surfing without a surfboard and ending his football career. Yes, really. His football coach was a friend of a film director named John Ford, who hired Morrison as a favor to him. Said football coach was also friends with an actual remnant of the Old West: WYATT FUCKING EARP. YEAH.

For years, Morrison was a bit player until starring in the film The Big Trail in 1930, a Western directed by Raoul Walsh. And he wasn’t exactly famous after this, but it was with this film that he took up a screen name: John Wayne, after a Revolutionary War general, Anthony Wayne, and...well, the name John. Anthony sounded too Italian. Yes, really. After this movie, Wayne continued to star in more Westerns, and even became one of the first film cowboys to sing on camera. 

And then, 1939 came along, and John Ford came to him with a new film project. Being a classic Western, the film was about a group of settlers riding on a stagecoach together through the West. Strangers to each other, they find themselves attacked by a group of Native Americans belonging to the Apache tribes. This film, an adaptation of a 1939 short story, would come to be known as Stagecoach. And it would launch Ford, Wayne, and the Western genre into a Golden Age. So no more navel-gazing, let’s get started!

SPOILERS AHEAD!!!

Recap

I get reminded that I haven’t watched a Criterion Collection film in a while, and the film begins with a rousing Western theme, courtesy of...holy shit, this movie has SEVEN COMPOSERS? Well, OK, courtesy of somebody in that list of seven. From there, we cut to a camp somewhere in the Arizona Territory in 1880. Which, again, is only 60 years prior to this film’s release date. There, a group of men discuss the danger imposed on them by the Apache, stirred up by the legendary warrior Geronimo. 

And from there, we go to the town of Tonto, where stagecoach driver Buck (Andy Devine) lets a group of passengers out. One of these passengers is Lucy Mallory (Louise Platt), there to catch another shuttle to meet her husband in Dry Fork, New Mexico. However, the stagecoach gains an extra passenger in the form of the Marshal, Curley Wilcox (George Bancroft), who goes to find an outlaw also in Lordsburg.

The passenger list builds with the addition of Doc Boone (Thomas Mitchell) and Dallas (Claire Trevor), a drunk and a prostitute both driven out of town by the Law and Order League of Women, due to social stigma affecting them both. In a bar getting a farewell drink, Doc meets yet one more passenger, Samuel Peacock (Donald Meek), a whiskey salesman that Doc is glad to meet. Meanwhile, banker Henry Gatewood (Berton Churchill) also boards the vehicle, under mysterious circumstances.

Friends of Lucy are worried with her travelling a drunk and a prostitute (the ABSOLUTE SCANDAL), but she needs to visit her husband in Dry Fork. As she leaves, she meets eyes with the dangerous but enigmatic gambler Hatfield (John Carradine). And before they’re able to leave altogether, the carriage is stopped by the army, who warn them of the Apache and Geronimo. All of the passengers refuse to get off, and YET TWO MORE passengers board to protect the carriage: the Marshal and Hatfield. And finally, they’re off! But as they head out, they’re stopped when they encounter a recently escaped outlaw.

This is The Ringo Kid (John Wayne), who just got out of prison. The Marshal sees him, and takes him into custody on the way to Lordsburg, where they plan to drop him off into jail. And yes, he’s put on the fucking stagecoach. In total, we have Buck, the Marshal, Lucy, Hatfield, Doc, Peacock, Gatewood, and the Ringo Kid. Jesus, that’s a crowded-ass carriage, even if two of them are outside of it. Hell, Ringo’s sitting on the fuckin’ floor!

Anyway, the group interacts and introduces themselves. We learn that Doc once patched up Ringo’s brother, and was discharged from the Union Army for drunkenness. We learn that Hatfield is a true southern gentleman, and a veteran of the Confederate army (much to Doc’s ire), and that Ringo’s brother was murdered under mysterious circumstances.

The group gets to Dry Forks, currently under occupation by the army. Said army had accompanied them (outside of the carriage, thank God) to Dry Forks, and are staying there to guard against the Apache. Meanwhile, Lucy’s dismayed to find that her husband isn’t in fact there. This leads to the debate of whether or not the party should go back to Tonto, or head onwards to Lordsburg. Buck wants to go back to Tonto, as does Peacock, while literally everybody else wants to go to Lordsburg. And so, they continue onwards.

Before heading onwards, the group sits for dinner, during which Ringo is the only one to show any form of kindness to Dallas, as everybody else looks down on her for prostitution. Shit, man, they won’t even sit near her at the table. Jesus. Unfortunately, Dallas is used to this cruel treatment, and it allows her to bond with Ringo in her loneliness. Once again, character interactions reveal things about our cast. Lucy is feeling quite ill, and Hatfield reveals that he served under her father in the Confederate Army. 

And from there, the coach continues on through the desert. Buck and the Marshal argue about letting Ringo free, as he aims to continue his feud with the outlaw Luke Plummer and his brothers, despite the fact that he’ll likely be killed by them. It’s for this reason that the Marshal wants to keep Ringo in his custody, as he was good friends with his father and doesn’t want to see him killed by the dangerous Plummers, whom Buck thinks should be taken down regardless.

Inside the coach, the banker reveals that he’s literally a Republican from 2016 (he rants about small government, and claims that a businessman should be President, holy shit), while people keep treating Dallas like shit, except for Ringo. They go through a cold mountain pass, which isn’t great for Lucy for some reason. It’s actually quite rough on everyone. Except for Doc Boone, who keeps drinking Peacock’s whiskey samples, which is hilarious.

Finally, the group makes it to the next stop, Apache Wells. There, Lucy discovers that her husband has been severely wounded in a battle with the Apache, and she falls faint. Despite being absolutely SMASHED, Doc sobers up to help her, with the help of Ringo and the Marshal. Meanwhile, Dallas watches over her, despite the rancor that Lucy’s tossed at her this whole time.

The group stays the night, attended to by Chris (Chris Pin-Martin) a Mexican man who’s married to Yakima (Elvira Rios), an Apache woman who...is played by a Mexican singer. Huh. I mean...it’s still technically redface, unfortunately. But then again, the attitude towards Native American actors at this time was...oh boy. And the portrayal of the Mexicans in the camp aren’t exactly great, as a group of them steal the group’s spare horses, meaning that they only have one set of horses to use from here on out.

But amongst the unpleasant is a pleasant surprise, and the reveal of the cause for Lucy’s mysterious condition: she’s pregnant. Or rather, she was, as the baby’s just been delivered, and is being held by Dallas. As the group celebrates, Chris warns Ringo to stay away from Lordsburg, as the Plummers will kill him. But Ringo has something else on his mind.

See, on seeing Dallas with the baby, he finds himself quite in love with her. He finds her outside, and tells her that his father and brothers were killed by the Plummers. In turn, she reveals that her family was massacred on the real-life Superstition Mountain. Their conversation ends in Ringo proposing to Dallas, which she protests to because of her mysterious past.

The next morning, Yakima’s left with Chris’ horse and rifle, and the group worry that she’s gone to tell the Apache. After Gatewood panics about his mysterious valise being possibly stolen, the group packs up and readies themselves to go. But Lucy is, of course, still ill from literally giving birth hours ago. Things are still tense between Lucy and Dallas, despite Dallas taking care of her the entire fucking night. Jesus, lady, that high horse is looking uncomfortable, you should get off it.

Dallas has something else to worry about, as she’s thinking on Ringo’s proposal. She consults with the doctor, who reminds her of her mysterious and checkered past being revealed if she goes. But she doesn’t seem to care, and she decides to accept the proposal. As for the rest, Gatewood’s freakin’ the fuck out. Because of Lucy’s condition, the doctor requests that they don’t leave until a day later. And Gatewood doesn’t give a single shit, as the Apache are close enough. Still, the party decides to stay, at Hatfield’s added insistence.

Ringo and Dallas talk, with Dallas both warning him of the Plummers, and also accepting his proposal. The men are all still arguing about whether or not they should leave, and they note that the Apache are likely between them and their destination. Ringo then takes the opportunity to escape and ride to Lordsburg for revenge on the Plummers. But he stops when he sees smoke signals on the hill. The Apache are coming.

No more waiting, it’s time to GO. Taking the still recovering lady and her newborn child Coyote into the stagecoach, they take off into the desert. Gatewood continues to run his loudmouth, to the ire of Hatfield and Ringo. And Peacock, to my delight, shows some kindness and “Christian charity” to Dallas, as she holds Coyote during the ride. And after all, they’re almost at the ferry!

Ah, shit, the ferry! Looks like the ferry, and the entire town of Lee’s Ferry have been burned. And if they ford the river, all of their supplies could be flooded, or the oxen could drown! Or worse, dysentery could set in! That’s what The Oregon Trail taught me! And yet, despite this, that’s actually EXACTLY what they do! And unlike me literally every time I’ve every tried to cross a river without a ferry, they make it through fine! Realistic educational games my ASS!

But it’s not entirely safe, as the group are being watched by none other than the Apache, who make their way down to intercept the group. In the carriage, meanwhile, the group is thankful that they’ve made their way from danger, and even Gatewood relaxes a little. Doc Boone makes a toast, and everyone seems to be getting along for once.

OH FUCK, PEACOCK GOT HIT!

The girlfriend IMMEDIATELY SAYS, “Now he really is Drew Peacock.” I leave and get boba to soothe my injured spirit from that well-timed joke. And then, the movie continues, and the chase is on! The Apache chase the stagecoach through the desert, and the groups trade gunshots and arrows, with Ringo shooting from the back. Gatewood panics so hard that Doc Boone punches him and IMMEDIATELY knocks him out, as he attends to Peacock’s injuries.

But despite their best efforts, the Apache group catches up to them, although many of them are killed by Ringo, the Marshal, Doc, and Hatfield. In the process, Buck is also shot, and Ringo literally jumps ON THE FUCKING HORSES, and commands them from the front like a goddamn badass. Things begin to get worse, as everybody in the stagecoach runs out of ammo, at the worst possible time. Hatfield only has one bullet remaining, and he considers using it...to kill Lucy! Holy fuck!

And just as he’s about to fire IN HER FUCKING FACE, the sounds of horns ring out as the cavalry arrives. And Hatfield, dick that he is, is shot. I think he was trying to spare her the indignity of being captured by the Apache, but Jesus, man! He collapses, and reveals that his father is a judge in Virginia before he...either passes out or dies, I’m not sure. The group finally gets to Lordsburg, where it turns out that Lucy’s husband is gonna be OK, and wasn’t severely injured. She tanks Dallas for everything that she’s done, and promises to help her should she ever need assistance. Good, finally, the lady needs a goddamn break.

The stagecoach rides through the busy town, and the arrival of the Ringo Kid gets the attention of Luke Plummer (Tom Tyler), who fetches his brothers Hank (Vester Pegg) and Ike (Joe Rickson). Time to get ready for a showdown, it seems. Dallas seems to know this, and goes to Ringo after the living Peacock (yay!) and the not-so-living Hatfield (oof) are brought in for medical help.

Buck’s also OK, but Gatewood isn’t. See, that valise he was carrying was actually full of money, and he had embezzled it from his own bank. He had counted on telegraph lines being down, so that he could escape with his ill-gotten gains, but has no such luck, and is led away in handcuffs! HA!

Ringo, meanwhile, is set to kill Luke Plummer and his brothers. The Marshal lets him escape, and promises to get Dallas safely down to a little ranch he owns in the South. Dallas and Ringo walk off together, and Dallas tries to get him to leave and say goodbye before he goes to his death, and before he finds out about her past (presumably as a prostitute). 

See, they’re actually walking up to a brothel, where Dallas is going to stay and work. Because, yeah, she’s a prostitute. Sucks that she’s been so maligned, because prostitution fuckin’ BUILT the Old West! I guess it’s easier to see that with historical context. As Ringo finds out the truth about Dallas (which he might’ve known all along), he still insists upon marrying her...and upon killing the Plummers.

Doc, meanwhile, goes to the bar where the Plummers are waiting. He tells them that he’ll get them arrested, and Luke swears to come back for him after their business with Ringo is concluded. The brothers head outside, ready for the final showdown. It’s 3 on one, Plummers against Ringo. Ringo fires! A few more shots...then silence. And Dallas mourns.

Except that Ringo wins the fight, and goes back to her! A happy ending! I’m sure that’ll be pretty goddamn rare this month. The Marshal arrives to take Ringo away, and Ringo goes as promised. She asks to ride with him a bit, and the Marshal agrees. He and Doc watch them get on, then cause the horses of the carriage to stampede away, letting Ringo and Dallas escape into the desert, together. And that’s the end!

Y’know...I liked it! I really liked it! 

This movie is often referred to as the greatest Western of all time, and the reason that the Western survived into the next several decades. And honestly, I get it! It was nominated for 7 Academy Awards, and won for Best Supporting Actor (Thomas Mitchell, AKA Doc) and Best Original Score, both of which were quite deserved!

Review time!

Cast and Acting - 9/10: Sure, it’s a little hokey. But at the same time, it’s good classic Hollywood acting! Wayne, Trevor, Mitchell, Carradine, and Devine are standouts for me, all of which serving their roles well. Also, fun fact about Andy Devine: he’s the voice of Friar Tuck in Disney’s Robin Hood! KNEW I recognized that voice!

Plot and Writing - 10/10: Standard plot? Sure. Engaging as hell? Hell yeah! This is just a good story, plain and simple. No holes, no problems, no mistakes, and purely straightforward. Great writing by the original story author, Ernest Haycox, and great screenplay by Dudley Nichols!

Directing and Cinematography - 10/10: Great looking movie, too! All credit to John Ford, unsurprisingly. Cinematographer Bert Glennon also deserves credit for the beautiful landscape shots throughout. Gogeous film, even in black-and-white!

Production and Art Design - 8/10: This is pretty standard Western production design, so not a lot to write home about specifically. However, that doesn’t mean it’s bad. To the contrary, it’s quite good! Just does stand out to me quite as much as other movies. Might be a nitpick, but it’s still something against the film.

Music and Editing - 10/10: No complaints! Seven composers definitely make their presence known, and you can tell that this score heavily informed all Western scores after it. It’s iconic, and it’s perfect for the mood. As for the editing by Otho Lovering and Dorothy Spencer...it’s great! Perfect pacing, well-edited...no complaints whatsoever.

94%, and I had fun with this one!

I honestly did have quite a good time with this one. I can’t really call it a “fun” movie, but it definitely is a good one. Plus, it’s a John Ford/John Wayne film, which is basically a staple of the genre. So, what’s next?

Next: My Darling Clementine (1946), dir. John Ford

[midnightmoonkiss]

Hand Snatcher

Izuku Midoriya X Fem! Reader

Summary: When a creep is following you, what else are you expected to do other than to grab a hero's hand and plead for help? Who knows, you might just get coffee from it.

WARNINGS!: None  :)

Category: Fluff

Word Count: 2.9k

A/N: Found a prompt list, forgot all other responsibilities and cracked down on this cliche ass shit

Just To Clarify:

It’s very early in the morning

Streets are practically void of people

The reader is an office worker

Deku is just a sidekick, and reader doesn’t know about him

“I’ll buy you coffee if you hold my hand for five minutes.!”

You pleadingly whisper to the hero clad in a green and black suit, grabbing his gloved hand and trying to control the shaking of your body as you pressed close to him.

You didn’t want this to happen, you didn’t think you’d ever have to reach out to a hero of people for help, but at the moment, you didn’t have much of a choice.

It was a hard concept to grasp, that crime would show itself on the streets so early in the morning. Dawn was just breaking the sky, orange and purple rays of light shone down on the buildings, encasing them in a fire-like glow.

You noticed him following you for a while, but you put it off, figuring he just so happened to be going in the same direction as you.

Of course, when you noticed him getting closer, taking the same unconventional turns as you, you put him to a test, walking faster and taking routes that differentiate from your usual ones.

He still followed you.

He matched your pace, coming closer and closer to your much smaller frame.

He was a big, burly man, and ironically enough, he was clad in a dusty trench coat and fedora.

It was unclear if he was trying to stand out by looking shady or match the setting of a 1950’s murder mystery.

Either way, it was unsettling, and it was obvious he was trying to get to you for some unknown reason.

So the moment you spotted the hero, you immediately power walked over to him, heels clicking loudly on the pavement, trying to hide the shaking of your knees.

You had to look confident, had to act like you knew just who you were walking up to despite never seeing the hero before.

You couldn’t just scream out for help, especially since the man following you hadn’t really done anything other than give you the scare of a lifetime. Not exactly enough to scream.

All that truly mattered was that if worse came to worse, surely he, a fellow burly man, could potentially protect you.

Who were you kidding, he could! That’s what heroes did, right?

Protect innocent civilians?

It was unnerving how the man followed behind you still, despite you clearly making your way to an authority figure.

“H-Hey!” You called out, a fearful smile on your face, “Funny seeing you here, huh?”

And that’s when you whispered those words to him, locking your fingers with his own, absentmindedly taking notice of how soft his gloves were, and how large his hand was.

Deku, the hero you just attached yourself to, already knew something was up the minute you called out to him.

It was obvious you were trying to get the hell away from that creepy-ass dude following you. The man even had the gall to try and grasp your arm at the last second but stopped once he made eye contact with the hero’s cold, glaring eyes.

It would scare anyone if they saw that, especially in this day-and-age where there still was no symbol of peace just yet, and crime was still on the rise.

He was working hard to lower that crime rate, but it would obviously take many years, same as it had been with Allmight. He was only a sidekick at the moment, after all.

So, without delay, he happily squeezed your hand, pulling you towards his large frame and smothering you in a protective hug.

“It is funny, but I’m so glad you ran into me! I missed you~!” He sang out, staring down into your wide (E/C) eyes.

Oh, thank god! He was actually going to help you!

Reporters on the news always said to pretend someone was a significant other of yours to fool any potential snatchers. You were always better off with two people than just one!

With a smile of relief, you both headed off in a different direction.

A peek over your shoulder showed the figure still standing there, staring at you with blue eyes filled with malice. 

It sent a shiver down your spine.

“It’s okay, I won’t let him touch you.” you looked up at the kind hero, heart warming at his gentle yet determined gaze.

“Ah.. thank you so much! He’s been following me for the past half hour. I don’t know why..” you relented, head tilting down to stare at your feet as you walked hand in hand with him.

It wasn’t that hard to tell he was trying to get you or something, you were previously alone, after all. The streets were empty. You were the perfect prey. He looked like one of those villains that stole women when they had the chance, dragging their unconscious bodies to a rusty van just for them to be sold on the black market.

The hero would know, because, funnily enough, that was his current mission. He was out on the streets so early looking for a perp just like that. He had been for the past week now.

In fact, he already sent his location to the agency with the click of a special button on his utility belt.

He didn’t expect one of them to actually be chasing a woman, he just thought he’d see one conveniently out in front of a van or something. Life really was full of surprises.

It was certainly a good thing he was there when he was, or else…

He didn’t want to think about what would’ve happened to you.

“You won’t have to worry about him anymore.” He promised, beginning to swing your hand between the two of you, a distraction of sorts and a form of comfort.

You were clearly shaken up, legs and shoulders still trembling as your free arm held itself comfortingly to your chest.

A quick look at your attire led him to believe you were an office worker of sorts, black pumps, pencil skirt, button-up shirt, and a black suit jacket.

Those shoes certainly made your leg trembles more apparently, and it hurt his heart to see someone so frightened. It always had. That familiar need to cheer someone up swelled in his chest,

“How about we get that coffee now? I’ll pay! It seems like you could use a second to catch your breath.”

Wha?! Your eyebrows rose in disbelief as you looked at him from the corner of your eye, how did he know?

Geeze, you need to start giving heroes more credit it seems.

They’re practically trained to be perceptive, you just hadn’t expected this one to see through you so easily!

You were exhausted, you’ve been walking for far too long in these damned heels, and that fear pumping through your veins wasn’t helping either.

How embarrassing..

With a stuttered inhale, you straightened your back, “I’ll be paying, if you don’t mind. You did help me, after all.”

“But that’s my job~” He teased, smirking down at your now flustered self. 

“Well! It’s my job to pay back my hero!” You declared, pouting as you glared up into his green eyes shimmering with amusement.

“Alright, alright. Just this once, then.” He agreed, holding the door open to a cafe.

You had no idea how you had gotten here so fast.

Nor did you have really any idea where you were. 

It seems the mysterious man had distracted you too much for you to really pay attention.

Which, in hindsight, was a relatively good thing. It definitely took your mind off of what happened only a few minutes ago.

Walking in, you were immediately hit with the pleasant smell of caramel, coffee, and the aroma of freshly baked pastries.

It was a tiny little rustic shop, polished dark wood surfaces taking up the majority of the space.

Not that you minded, it all fits so perfectly well with the cream walls chandeliers hanging down.

It screamed comfort, and you couldn’t help but wonder if their coffee tasted as good as this place looked.

You immediately walked to the front counter, delightfully ringing the small golden bell that sat on top of the display case.

The unnamed hero watched from behind, smiling at how your shoulders relaxed, your body suddenly not as tense as it was before.

 This shop was a personal favorite of his, he’d often come here for breakfast or before a late-night shift. It wasn’t too far from his agency, so it was perfect. That, and he really enjoyed the food and quality of coffee beans here. Though it was small, it was certainly one of the more luxurious shops he’s been to. That’s not to say it was expensive, though, it was all amazingly affordable. A godsend to his practically broke ass.

He had no idea that apartments in the city were so much money, and they were eating at each and every side-kick paycheck he’d get.

A little old lady wobbled out from what seemed to be a break room, used floorboards creaking under her every step. “Hello, hello! Welcome Sugar n’ Spice Cafe~ How may I help y- Oh! Well if it isn’t Mister Broccoli head!” The woman gushed, enthusiastically waving at the man behind you.

Looking back, you could see he was already frantically shaking his hands, sweat dotting at his forehead. The moment he noticed you looking back at him, he shoved his hands behind himself, almost dying on the spot as he noticed you trying to hold back giggles.

 “M-Mrs. Suzuki! Hi!” A nervous smile forced itself onto his freckled face, cheeks dusting a pretty pink.

Aw, he was trying to act suave, as if a little old lady didn’t just call him a vegetable.

How cute.

It was hard not to laugh at that.

His fluffy green hair did indeed resemble broccoli, perhaps that had been his nickname here for a while, leading you to the obvious conclusion that he’s been here multiple times before.

Still, it was funny that a hero, someone who is the personification of strength and power, was called a veggie.

“U-uhm,” He stuttered, gloved hand scratching at the back of his head as he avoided eye contact, “Could I get my usual?”

“Of course dear. And how about you? What can I get for you, sweet cheeks?”

You jumped as you were suddenly thrown into the conversation, previously absorbed by how cute the hero looked at the moment. “D-do you have (f/d)?” You shyly asked, shifting from one foot to the other. You hadn’t had a chance to really look at the menu, so you hoped they had it and you didn’t just embarrass yourself.

“Of course!” She beamed at you as her tiny fingers began typing on the computer screen.

“That’ll be a thousand yen, darling.” 

After swiftly paying for your drinks, your hand once again was seized by a much larger one as you were led to a small booth in the back, the walls providing a sort of comfort as you sat in the corner. You could clearly see the entire shop from where you sat, and you know for a fact no one could potentially sneak up on you like this. Did he know it as well, and that’s why he had you sit there? It certainly put you at ease.

He sat across from you, shifting for a second as he made sure his flowy white cape didn't fall into the other booth.

It was a wonder how he even fit in this booth, seeing as he had large leg braces on. Muscle memory, maybe? 

You sat in silence for a moment, still taking in the cafe and all the decor lining the walls and shelves.

“I’m Deku, by the way-” ‘Deku’ sputtered suddenly, hands resting on the table as he fiddled with his fingers. A nervous habit?

All around, he seemed like a nervous and sweet guy - despite you only knowing him for no less than ten minutes.

“I’m (Y/N). And, thank you, Deku, once again, for saving me. I know it must’ve been weird for you to suddenly be latched onto so early in the morning..” You laughed, fingers tapping on the smooth table as you couldn’t help but stare at his gloves.

They were so cool! You wondered what all those weird things on the knuckles were, and what purpose they served.

Heroes always had such interesting gadgets on them to help aid with something, you’d be lying if you said you weren’t interested in hero support tools. The thought and creativity that goes into them were outstanding.

“Don’t mention it! I’m just happy I was there when I was.” All this man seemed to do was smile, and it was honestly a relief to know you hadn’t really bothered him.

“Order up!” Mrs. Suzuki called to both of you. Just as you were about to get up, Deku flung himself from his seat, knees knocking loudly on the table as he did so.

“Sorry!” He called back to you as he rushed to get your drinks.

It was.. Kind of endearing, seeing him flounder around a bit, it really opened your eyes a bit. It made you realize that even if they were heroes, they weren’t perfect, and they were just as normal as you were. It was hard to see that difference in today’s society. Heroes were always held on a pedestal, ones that they graciously accepted and thrived off of. 

But he certainly seemed different.

You were probably dragging him away from his work, now that you realized it, and yet he continued to stay here with you, calming you down with just his presence alone.

It didn’t even matter that he was capable of beating the shit out of that guy from before, it just mattered that he was a kind gentleman hoping to help a lady in distress.

It didn’t seem like he was looking for praise, money, any of that, he just... He genuinely wanted to help you.

You smiled to yourself. The world was corrupt, but maybe he could help with that. Be an example to others, especially to aspiring heroes already in the making.

It was his job, as he mentioned before, but he showered you in unnecessary kindness. 

What a hero.

You’d certainly make sure to condemn the name ‘Deku’ to memory.

Maybe even do research once you get home from your office job.

You had an hour before it started, and you didn’t really have any clue where you were since you didn’t pay attention.

You’d have to suck up what little pride you had left and asked the man where the fuck you were.

Just then, a cup was delicately placed down in front of you, paired with shuffling as he squeezed into the opposite seat.

“Thank you for paying! I hope I can repay you someday.” He added cheerfully whilst sipping at his hot beverage, before almost choking once he realized what he said.

Your cheeks heated up at the proposition, you’d be able to meet him again?!

Ah, but,

“Didn’t we just meet, Mr. Deku? I’m practically a stranger, and you’re already proposing a date.”

You teased, similar to what he had done to you earlier as you stared at him through your lashes.

He found himself gulping quite loudly, much to his dismay, cheeks flaring up as he felt like a mouse under your alluring gaze.

“W-well, uhm, m-maybe we can.. Get to know each other for a bit? I mean! If you’re not busy, of course! I-I know this is really random! I’m sorry if I’m freaking you out! I’m not really used to all of this, it seems like a date already even though I know it’s not. I assume things too much, I’m so sorry! I’m just someone who helped you and you wanted to repay the favor- thank you again by the way! I guess you could say I’m attracted to you a bit?! Y-you’re really cute! And I! I want to get to know you more! If I’m making you uncomfortable, tell me, and I’ll just-”

You reached over, placing your much smaller hand over his own, successfully cutting off his adorable rambling.

“It is a bit strange, but I don’t mind it. I’d like to get to know my savior a bit more, too.”

His lips turn into a wobbly smile, blush darkening at the contact, despite the two of you holding hands not long ago.

“But yeah! Let’s get to know each other a bit.”

And so, after a half-hour of chatting and laughter, you were shown to the nearest train station, given his number, and a promise to meet again soon.

In the back of your mind, you wondered what had happened to that creep, but later in the day, you’d find out, thanks to local news reporters, that he was captured and arrested not long after you left the scene.

Oh yeah.

You sure were happy you woke up extra early that morning, even if it was originally to head into the office to complete some work leftover from the day before, but you weren’t too excited to spend overtime on it now that you lost the chance. 

But you wouldn’t trade that time for the world, because your luck just hit an all-time high, seeing as you just potentially snagged the world’s greatest bachelor.