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tenspontaneite · 3 years

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Pigment

Callum discovers the wonders of elven pigments.

(The first of two pieces written for @falling-for-you-a-rayllum-zine, which is now having leftover sales!) ('Future' chapter; takes place post-s3, naturally not canon to TTM. Oneshot. 4k. Ao3 link)

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The first time Callum was introduced to the concept of elvish pigment was, ostensibly, by Rayla’s skin. He’d noted the marks under her eyes in the same hurried, panicked glance that picked out the horns, the ears, the alarming points of the weapons in her hands…

He wondered about them, of course, but in the first frantic two weeks of their acquaintance, there really wasn’t a lot of time to ask about it. Not until the Storm Spire, when he sat mulling over the flight-runes on Ibis’ wings, and how they might have come to be there.

“…So, I’ve been wondering,” he said to Rayla, apropos of nothing, while she was tending to her equipment. She looked up as he began to speak, the armour momentarily forgotten. “Those…markings you have, the ones on your face—and the ones a lot of other elves seem to have—what are they?”

She blinked, and for a moment, her fingers rose to her face, as though only just remembering the marks were there. “They’re pigment?” She offered, squinting at him a little. “…Is that a trick question, or…?”

“No, really, I have no idea what they are.” He assured her. “I was never sure if they were tattoos, or…weird elf birthmarks, or something. But—pigment? Does that mean it’s like…ink? How do you get them on?” Tattoos, as he understood them, involved needles. He hoped elven pigment didn’t involve needles.

For a moment, Rayla stared at him, looking decidedly nonplussed. “You…paint them on?” She offered, still thrown. “With a brush? And then they stay there for a while. Half a year, maybe. Depends on how good your pigment is.”

“Huh.” Callum mused. For a moment, he was tempted to press further, to ask about the intricacies of various pigments and the application thereof…but he’d been asking for a reason, after all, and his attention remained there.

If they were painted on...then that boded well. That meant that it was something that he could do, if only for the presence of the pigment and a brush.

It wasn’t much later that, after a guilty rummage through Ibis’ things, Callum stood at the pinnacle of the Storm Spire and painted flight-runes onto his skin. That was his first true introduction to the pigments of elves. As an artist, he couldn’t help but marvel at it. The pigment was white, yet it entirely obscured the darker colour of his skin with only a single, easy stroke. Only one layer, and it was solidly opaque. It glowed a little—then settled utterly dry, clean, and steadfast upon his arms.

For a moment, he spared a thought to wish that his paints could be like that. He’d dabbled in every form of art medium he could get his hands on over the years, and he’d never worked with any pigment like this one. It would be gorgeous to paint with.

But then he was too distracted trying to fly to think about art any longer, and that was the last mind he paid to pigment for a while.

After the battle of the Storm Spire, he prevailed upon the use of a finer, neater brush, and filled in the edges of his flight-runes until the shape of each was perfect and immaculate. Ibis watched him with a critical eye, and nodded.

“The spell will come easier if the runes are tidy.” He said, approvingly. “You’ll need to re-apply the pigment every three months. Any longer than that and it will begin to fade—which isn’t so great an issue when the marks are merely aesthetic, but with runes…”

“I can see how you wouldn’t want these fading, no.” Callum said ruefully, and accepted the little bottle of white pigment with a murmur of gratitude. He tucked it into his things for the next time he and Rayla went travelling, and she smiled at him.

“Packing your pigment for the journey, Callum?” She remarked, a little teasing. “Think we’ll be gone that long, do you?”

He laughed, and shrugged, glancing down at one of his arms. “I guess it’s just in case, really. I shouldn’t need to touch them up again for months, but…you never know. Wouldn’t want to end up flightless for some reason.”

“I suppose you are a tad obsessed with flying, now.” She agreed, as if she wasn’t always finding excuses for him to sweep her up into the sky for another flight. She reached out, absentminded, and trailed a fingertip around the curve of one rune with the trace of a smile on her lips. “Still, if it came down to it, you could always borrow mine.”

He glanced up at her, startled. “Your pigment?” He checked, eyes settling on the marks beneath her eyes. “I didn’t know you had any with you.”

“I don’t. Need to pick some up from Ethari, when we visit.” She said, succinctly, and he supposed that was another reason for their stopping at Silvergrove on the way to Katolis. How long had it been, since she last refreshed her pigment? Did she need to do it again soon, or was she just planning for the future?

He stared at her for a moment, contemplating her, feeling his heart flutter with a familiar warmth. If her markings had faded at all since he met her, it wasn’t immediately obvious to him. They looked as clear and lovely as ever; a natural part of her face. It was strange to think of what she might look like without them.

Rayla eyed him, when he’d stared a little too long and smiled a little too softly, and huffed at him. Her cheeks pinked a little, the colour darkening her markings. “What are you looking at?” She muttered to him, a touch self-conscious. Rather than look away, he smiled at her all the wider, and captured the hand she had on his arm to plant a kiss on its fingers.

“You.” He said, very contentedly, and watched with pleasure as her face coloured and her fingers twitched beneath his touch.

“Dumb prince.” She sighed, a smile spreading unbidden and affectionate across her lips. It was beautiful, so of course he kissed that too. He felt the widening of that smile against his mouth, and lingered there for as long as she’d let him before she prodded him away to finish packing.

She gave his arms a strange look, though, when he next bared them. Appraising, almost, with a narrow-eyed sort of consideration. “…What?” He asked, when she’d been staring long enough to warrant the question.

“Your runes are…neat.” She said, tone as considering as her eyes. “Tidy.” She shook her head then. “I guess I shouldn’t be surprised, with all the art you do. Of course you’d be good at painting skin-pigment.” He eyed her, because there was clearly more to this observation than just surprise that he’d managed some tidy brushwork, but all she said when he asked was “It’s nothing. Don’t worry about it.”

He didn’t believe her, obviously. Not with the way she kept shooting half-considering looks at him when she thought he wasn’t looking. But he didn’t press her, and she didn’t mention whatever was on her mind. In time, he forgot about it.

Until they were back in the Silvergrove.

Rayla asked Ethari, and within the minute he was pressing a small dark bottle and a fine brush into her hands. “I did wonder if you needed any.” He said, as she turned the glass over and the indigo liquid swirled around within. “It’s been a while, hasn’t it?”

“Yeah,” She agreed, pocketing the vial and the brush both. “It’ll start fading soon. So…thanks.”

He nodded at her, all warmth and familial affection. “Not a problem. Did you want me to help with that while you’re here?”

She hesitated, then, and for a moment…for a moment, her eyes slid to Callum, who’d been watching them idly over the top of his sketchbook. “…I’m good.” She settled on, eventually, and if there was anything particularly knowing about Ethari’s smile then, Callum didn’t notice it.

He kept drawing, content in that she was content, and happy to be in her home under happier circumstances than the first.

But then, later: “I wanted to ask you something.” Rayla said, abruptly, when it was just the two of them in what was ostensibly her childhood room. It had been adapted over the years for a growing teenager, but still maintained hints of the past lingering within its walls. He spotted a child’s doodle of a shadowpaw etched into the grain of the dresser, and suppressed a smile.

He turned to her, eyes crinkling a little at the thought of a tiny rambunctious Rayla who scrawled over the walls and furniture. “Yeah?” He responded, a little distracted, as he wondered if there were perhaps any baby or childhood portraits in residence somewhere. He should ask Ethari. If there were any to be found, surely he’d know.

That distraction fled the instant she spoke. “Will you paint my pigment for me?” She asked, directly, and his eyes shot to her at once. At his expression, she added, “You don’t have to. But it needs doing soon, or it’ll start fading faster.” She paused, looking a little more tentative as she said, “If you don’t want to, Ethari can—”

“No,” he blurted, clumsy, then scrambled to say “I mean, yes, I mean—I mean I’d like that. To help. To, er. Paint your pigment on.” He felt his face heat, in part from how he’d stumbled over the words, and in part because…well. He might not know a lot about elven pigment and elven markings, but he was fairly sure that they were…personal. That painting someone’s markings for them was personal.

His reply settled her, and she huffed, lips twitching with familiar fondness. “…Good.” She said, in the end, and surprised him by leaving the room without further word. He blinked after her, uncertain whether he was supposed to follow, but then she returned a bare few moments later with a towel and a wet cloth that she was already wiping her face with.

“Er,” he offered, perplexed, as she dried her face off and set the towel and cloth both down. He didn’t understand until she plucked the bottle of pigment from her dresser and pressed it into his fingers. “Now?” His voice was something of a squeak, and she rolled her eyes.

“When else?” She asked, procuring a brush and giving him that too. “We’re setting off tomorrow. Now’s best.” She paused. “…That okay?”

Her voice had gone tentative again, and his chin jerked up, fingers tightening around brush and bottle as if worried she’d take them away. “No, yeah, it’s okay,” he assured her, and then laughed, a little nervously. “I just…wasn’t expecting it.” He cleared his throat, and took a closer look at the brush. It was like the one he’d filled his own runes in with, fine and delicate and short enough that it didn’t seem liable to flick off in weird directions. “…So I just…paint this onto your face?” He asked, after a moment, feeling his cheeks heat for reasons he couldn’t quite put to words. It felt special, in a way that was hard to describe.

“That is how it works.” Rayla answered, dryly, and then tugged him by the rune-adorned arm until they were both sitting on the floor, towel and cloth at close remove. He supposed those were there in case of spillages, though considering how quickly elvish pigment took hold, he wasn’t sure how much good a towel would do. He wondered if there was some sort of solvent, magical or otherwise, that was up to the task of dissolving pigment like this.

“What happens if I make a mistake when I’m putting your pigment on?” He wondered aloud, only half directing it at her. “Do you just have to walk around with it on your face for months?”

She snorted, and shook her head. “Nah. There’s pigment-remover for that.”

A little tension eased from his shoulders. “Oh, good,” he sighed, relieved. “That’s much less pressure, then.”

She rolled her eyes again. “Just paint my face, Callum.”

He chuckled at her, a little nervously, and uncapped the bottle. The liquid inside was so much darker than the pigment he used, and bizarrely true in its colour. Usually, inks tended to look much darker than their actual colour when they were in the bottle. It was only when you painted them onto a page that you could see how light and bright they were. This, though…it was just solid, liquid indigo, as if someone had distilled the concept of the colour of Rayla’s markings and spilled it into a bottle. “This would be amazing to paint with.” He murmured, somewhat distractedly, watching the pigment shimmer in the low light.

Rayla didn’t answer that, which was unusual enough that his eyes darted to hers, and found her looking strangely thoughtful. She shook her head, though, as if to dispel some thought, and started giving the pigment bottle and the brush some very meaningful looks. He laughed, softly, and obeyed the unspoken command; he dipped the brush in, drained off the excess, and then lifted it. It was dyed the same solid, true indigo—a colour that he was about to put onto her skin.

It hit him then, or at least started to; he looked between the brush and her face and felt his breath catch at—at something. It felt a little like panic, a little like wonder, a little like the breathless infatuation she always managed to inspire in him. For a moment, he didn’t know what to do with it, and just…stared at her, heart beating wildly at—at the trust, and the honour, that he couldn’t help but feel she’d given him.

She was looking impatient by the time he finally moved, and likely would have spoken if not for how he shuffled closer, until their knees were touching. Her mouth closed, watching him, eyes settling on his own as he reached towards her. His fingers brushed the edge of her jaw, feather-light, as tentative as he always was when he remembered that someone as amazing as her had deigned to be with someone like him. His breath caught in his throat as he lifted his hand, thumb tracing tenderly along a cheek that warmed beneath his touch.

He cupped her face in his hand, then, unable to resist the impulse, and she leaned into it without even thinking. Her eyes fell half-lidded for a moment, the smallest smile twitching at the edges of her lips, and he wanted to kiss her. That wasn’t what he was supposed to be doing, but—but he wanted to, and she was smiling at him, and her eyes were soft and warm in the quiet and low light of the room—

So, he kissed her, and she huffed an amused breath against his lips, lifting a hand to trail affectionate fingers along the side of his neck. “This doesn’t feel like face-painting to me.” She murmured to him, fond and teasing at once, and he wouldn’t have been surprised for a moment if his heart stopped beating for the strength of how much he loved her. “Weren’t you supposed to be doing something?”

He laughed, a little breathless, and the warmth of it spilled between them. “Yeah.” He agreed, helplessly, drawing back with her fingers still warm on his neck and his hand still cupped to her cheek, and paused for a moment to treasure the sight of her looking at him like that. He couldn’t believe how lucky he was that she loved him. He didn’t think he’d ever believe it. “I’ll just…get on that.”

She withdrew her hand, and watched him. Waiting.

His fingers shifted on Rayla’s face, moving to press his thumb gently to the side of the marking under her left eye. Pulling at the skin, ever-so-slightly, to allow for painting it more evenly. Another urge struck him, but this time he suppressed it. He could kiss her cheek-markings later. For now, he was supposed to be painting them. And so…

With an almost reverent care, he lifted the tip of the brush to her face, hovering just above her skin with a heady mixture of breathless wonder and breathless trepidation. He exhaled, softly, and felt her eyes upon him. Watching, warm and fond and expectant.

Finally, with the utmost care, he touched the brush to her skin.

She flinched a little at the touch so close beneath her eye, but he’d expected that. He held the brush steady and traced a slow, perfect line down her cheek, along the edge of the extant marking, like a dark border to the fading colour. And it was fading; he could see that now. It wasn’t noticeable on its own, but with the contrast of the fresh pigment beside it, it was fully obvious that the old colour had begun waning.

With the brush to her skin, Callum’s hushed awe fell in step with the breadth of his skill and practice. He’d never put brush to someone else’s skin before, but that did nothing to diminish his skill. He knew brushwork, and he knew the delicacy needed for fine detail, and…and, in the end, this was easy. Just tracing around an existing marking, and filling it in. There could be nothing easier.

He drew the pigment across her skin in smooth, effortless lines. He traced the borders of her marking and then filled it in, up until when the brush began to run empty, and he had to go for the bottle again. The colour settled fast, immediate, and perfect upon her face, with that gorgeous fidelity he’d never seen in any other pigment or paint or ink in all his life. It was a pleasure to use it, and all the more that he was using it for this.

Callum fell half into an artist’s trance for the remaining minutes it took to finish. He filled the left marking in, stark and perfect, then shifted his fingers tenderly to her other cheek, and repeated the process. When he was done, there was nothing but perfect lines and perfect colour upon a face that he loved.

He smiled, small and satisfied, and set the brush aside. “Done.” He murmured, and leaned forward to press his forehead to hers, cradling her face in both hands. It felt strange, to risk touching her skin when he’d only just painted it. But that was the wonder of elvish pigment; it dried the moment it was applied, and permitted no possibility of smearing whatsoever. He stroked his thumbs beneath her eyes and felt more happy, more tender, more loving than he’d ever known. “Perfect.” He murmured, reverential, the words meant for more than the pigment.

Her eyes blinked across from his own, and he loved them. Loved her. She brought her arms up and drew him closer, one hand splayed on the back of his neck. “Maybe I’ll have you do me some new markings, someday.” She murmured to him, in the end, a small and secret smile at the edges of her lips. He stared at her, spellbound, for the three beats of his heart that lingered between her smile and her movement. She leaned in and closed the meagre distance between them, the kiss soft and sweet and all the more perfect for how dearly he adored her.

He imagined, for a second, drawing that ink-brush again along her skin. Imagined it between her fingers, along her arms, casting indigo whorls about her shoulders. He thought of new pigment, new markings, and the sheer delight of being the one who got to put them there. His heart fluttered. “I’d like that.” He said, against her lips, and she kissed him again.

“Good.” When she drew back, the markings were still stark and beautiful beneath her eyes, where he’d painted them. The sight of them left him a little breathless, even now, unable to shake the sense that he’d been afforded an enormous privilege, a gift of worth beyond measure.

Someday, he hoped, she’d afford him that gift again.

Callum saw the fruits of Rayla’s thoughtful consideration and furtive glances a while later, when July came around and he was startled from thinking about her birthday by the arrival of his own. She cornered him with palpable satisfaction, and gave him a parcel that she very clearly expected him to be delighted with.

She wasn’t wrong.

He unveiled an array of small bottles; thirty-six hues of true and perfect elvish pigment, distilled for the purpose of painting. He beheld them all with a nearly breathless joy, finding the little parcel of pigment-brushes, the bottle of solvent, the masking-fluid….

“You like it?” Rayla asked, with a broad and decidedly smug smile on her face. She clearly already knew the answer.

“I love it.” He pronounced, and set at once to trying them out.

The very first thing he painted was her. She watched him, and huffed as she saw the familiar lines of her own face taking form on the page, pleased and exasperated all at once. She never did seem to understand why he drew her so often, but that was okay. And, with these pigments…

The colours were spectacular, brighter and more intensely pigmented than anything he’d ever seen. He found himself utterly swept away in the delight of using them, and hours later, emerged from his artist’s trance to the completed work: Rayla in the early evening of the Silvergrove, her hair and eyes gleaming softly with the gentle illumination of the lights and moon-moths around her. It was one of the finest works he’d ever produced, and at the sight of it, he concluded the process of falling helplessly in love with Elvish pigment.

Rayla, for all her embarrassment at being painted, seemed to approve of it too. “You picked that up quickly.” She noted, handling the edges of the thick paper with the delicate care it deserved.

“These pigments are my new favourite thing.” He declared, arranging the bottles a little more tidily beside him. His eyes rested, a little consideringly, over another wide sheet of paper. He stared at it for a long while, growing quiet and solemn, and eventually reached out to take it.

He had his birthday traditions to observe, after all.

The second thing he painted with the elven pigments was his family portrait, atrophied and truncated by tragedy. There was no Sarai there, and hadn’t been for years. No Harrow, and that was a new pain. He felt the ghosts of their absence in the lines he didn’t draw, in the colours that never fell upon the page, in the voids of grief that they left in his life.

But there were new faces now, too.

With quiet, exquisite care, he drew himself. He drew Ezran, older now, wearing a mantle that had come for him too soon. He drew Bait in his brother’s arms. He drew Aunt Amaya. And, tenderly: he drew Azymondias and Rayla. The outlines took form, and as the hours passed, elvish pigment filled them in.

In the end, he had his family portrait again. Changed, and echoing with its empty spaces, but…

Quiet, from her place beside him, Rayla slipped her hand into his own.

“Come on,” She said, with the small but tender smile that he loved. “Zym has a present for you too. He’ll be disappointed if he can’t give it to you today.”

Callum exhaled, and let her fingers tighten around his, pulling him up to his feet beside her. His own smile slipped onto his lips. “Then we’d better go find him.” He said, casting a last glance at the portrait on the table. He didn’t resist it when she tugged on his fingers, pulling him away.

With a strange, quiet serenity, he followed her out into the light.

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end.

This is word-for-word what was published in the Rayllum zine 'Falling For You'; I have made no changes. It’s the shorter and less impressive of my two pieces, but I hope you liked it anyway.

I’ll potentially be making some minor edits to the second piece before posting, given I intend to continue it - in fact, I’ve already got like three extra chapters of it written, though small ones. I’m considerably more excited about that one, so stay tuned!

#rayllum #rayllumzine #tdp fic #tdp callum #tdp rayla #seriously though the soulmate au piece is good times #looking forward to everyone being able to read it #had to do word count negotiations to get a piece that long into the zine lol #the mods kindly granted me a couple extra ks #and then I decided to reduce my word limit for this first piece by 1k so I could shift that to the more exciting piece too #it deserved every word I could give it #this one is nice don't get me wrong #i'm just not made for short decisive pieces #and the soulmate AU's ending is VERY MUCH open-ended #and inviting follow-up #which I then wrote and shared with my closest cohorts #awaiting the day it could be published #looking forward to seeing the comments on my baby

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anxiousstark · 4 years

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S3 01 | Tattoo

BIG MASTERLIST | TW REWRITE

Stiles Stilinski x Reader! Half-sibling!Mccall

Word count: 1871

Warnings: Mentions of injuries, blood, murder, dead body, swearing (always).

A/N: SEASON 3 HERE WE COME! Double update this week!

↪ PLEASE RESPECT MY WORK. DON’T COPY, TRANSLATE OR CLAIM THEM AS YOURS. NOT ON THIS WEBSITE OR ANOTHER. ALL RIGHTS ARE RESERVED.

Summer was the greatest thing that happened to us, and without any doubt, the best thing that had happened to me since I arrived at Beacon Hills. Our summer was full of peace, which is what we needed. No creatures were trying to kill us or other people. We were safe, and even though we couldn't avoid being a little apprehensive, we knew that we were finally safe.

Scott, Melissa and I were able to sit down together, explaining to her everything that had happened. We were terrified because it wasn't easy to explain to someone you loved that danger followed you. After all, we weren't humans anymore. That night we told her everything. Melissa got teary, feeling guilty for not being able to help or do anything for us. We told her that we were fine, we would be fine.

During this peaceful holiday, I was able to get closer to both boys. Scott and I didn't throw ourselves at each other's throats. Of course, there was a long way to walk. We still needed to get used to everything. The hazel-eyed boy and I developed a new habit during summer, whenever we felt anxious we seemed to notice, bodies being attracted to each other, hands interlocking, hoping to give the comfort we sought. Holding hands became a soothing gesture between us. We did it unconsciously.

"Hey, Scott, sure you don't want something like this?" Stiles grabbed a folder, holding it up, showing it to the other boy. I walked closer to him, excited to see what was he holding, knowing Stiles, something that would make me snicker. "Too soon? Yeah." Of course, I snickered when I noticed that he was showing Scott the drawing of a beast that looked like the Kanima. Melissa allowed him to get a tattoo.

For what we got to know, Matt was dead. We still weren't sure what that would mean for Jackson. But we had promised ourselves that we wouldn't get into supernatural trouble during summertime. However, tomorrow was our first day back to class, which meant that the supernatural would come back to form part of our lives.

"I don't know, man, are you sure about this? I mean, these things are pretty permanent, you know?" I walked around the room, admiring the drawings decorating the walls.

"I'm not changing my mind." Scott and I got closer especially at night. One night I woke up after having a nightmare where I saw my mother. It seemed like the other McCall was also having a nightmare, which ended in both of us, sleeping on his bed, and talking about the stuff that worried us. That night Scott McCall cried, he missed Allion, but he couldn't ignore everything that had happened.

"Okay, but why two bands?"

Scott shrugged, stating that he just liked it. "But don't you think your first tattoo should have some sort of meaning, you know, or something?"

"Getting a tattoo means something."

Stiles had a small grin on his face, ready to inform Scott that wasn't the point. But the tattoo artist interrupted him. "He's right, tattooing goes back thousands of years. The Tahitian word 'tatua' means 'to leave a mark.' Like a rite of passage."

"Yeah, you see? He gets it."

"He's covered in tattoos, Scott, literally."

"Okay, you ready? You ain't got any problems with needles, do you?"

"Nope." Scott offered me a smile, ready to get the tattoo he has been asking for so long.

The boy standing next to me scratched his chin. "I tend to get a little squeamish though, so..." There was no time to analyze the situation. Stiles was lying on the floor, an uncomfortable posture making the circumstances even funnier.

I sat on the passenger seat on Stiles's Jeep. Scott had bought a bike with the money he had gained while working for Deaton in the clinic. So now, every day, I was driven to class by the hazel-eyed boy.

"Don't you think it was strange?" He asked me again as I spaced out. "It seems like something supernatural to me. Exactly when we go back to class." After Scott's tattoo, we were ready to go home and have dinner together. My half-brother's happiness due to the tattoo didn't last for long as an excruciating pain made him take the bandages off, realizing the tattoo had disappeared. Maybe we should have taken into account that he was a werewolf, and he healed faster. A tattoo was an open wound.

On our way home, we saw Lydia's car, and not to anyone's surprise, she was with Allison. A deer hit the front of their car, making us run to them to check if they were hurt. Scott was convinced that the deer was terrified.

"I suppose, Stiles." I sighed, running my hands through my hair.

"Hey," He glanced at me for a second, quickly looking back to the road ahead of him. "You alright?" His hand ended up resting on top of my hand, which was resting on my thigh.

"I feel like so many bad things are going to happen again." I lamented. "We still don't know anything about me. There are obstacles everywhere."

"I told you. We will find answers, okay?" He squeezed my hand. To be honest, some nights during summer were spent searching for every scaly creature that exists in the supernatural world. But without knowing what I could do, we couldn't conclude anything. When we arrived at school, we walked directly to our classroom.

Stiles and I glanced at each other when only a couple of minutes into the lecture, Scott had to leave class. My mind went to the worst scenario case, thinking that maybe Melissa was in danger. Stilisnki seemed to notice my change of behaviour, extending his hand, offering me to grab it. I did.

He rested back on his chair, sighing, tired from doing whatever the teacher has ordered us to do. "Hey, Lydia. What is that?" When I followed his gaze, I noticed a bandage around the pretty strawberry blonde girl's ankle. "Is that from the accident?"

"No. Prada bit me."

"Your dog?" I asked. Stiles's other hand extended forward, forbidding me from biting my pen, a nervous habit I didn't notice I was doing.

"No, my designer handbag. Yes, my dog." She replied as if I was stupid, which made me grumble a little while Stiles smiled at my reaction.

"Has it ever bitten you before?" Lydia shook her head. "Okay. What if it's, like, the same thing as the deer? You know, like, how animals start acting weird right before an earthquake or something?"

"Meaning what? There's gonna be an earthquake?"

"Or something. I just... maybe it means something's coming. Something bad." Stiles was completely right. Something was wrong, I felt it.

"It was a deer and a dog. What's that thing you say about threes? Once, twice..." Her words were interrupted when something hit the window, leaving a trail of blood. Every student was interrupted form their concentration, glancing at the window. Jennifer, our teacher, walked towards it. Crows, so many crows were coming towards us. Another one hit the window, and then another, and another.

"S-Stiles..." I whispered, my hand rapidly clutching his shirt between my fingers. The windows couldn't resist so many crows hitting it. They ended up being shattered, thousand of crows getting inside the classroom.

I quickly grabbed Lydia as she seemed to be shocked enough to react, covering her head with my arms. I felt someone doing the same thing for me. Stiles's back pressed tightly against mine, the inside of his thighs pressed against the outside of mines. His arms covering my face after he saw that I was hit by a couple of enraged crows.

Of course, the cops had been called. They were now asking around, trying to understand what was going on. However, this was something out of their reach.

"You alright?" Stiles's hands grabbed my cheeks, lightly moving my head from side to side, making sure that there wasn't any wound or scratch.

"You?" My fingers grasped a feather that seemed to be stuck in his hair, pulling it out. He nodded, sighing in relief, taking me into his arms. That is another habit we had developed during the summer.

"Guys," Mr. Stilisnki came closer to us, his eyes focusing on our intertwined hands. "No more class for today, okay?" He offered us a smile. "Go back home, alright? Make sure you guys are in a safe place." We both nodded.

"Yeah, I see it. It's two bands, right? What does it mean?"

"I don't know. It's just something I traced with my fingers."

"Why is this so important to you? Do you know what the word 'tattoo' means?"

"To mark something." Stiles crossed his arms while letting Derek know as if he didn't know already. He looked so proud of himself.

"Well, that's in Tahitian. In Samoan, it means 'open wound'. I knew I wanted to get a tattoo when I turned 18. I always wanted one. I just decided to get it now, to make it kind of a reward."

"For what?"

"For not calling or texting Allison all summer. Even when I really wanted to, even when it was so hard not to sometimes. I was trying to give her the space she wants. Goin' four months later, it still hurts. It still feels like a, uh..."

"Like an open wound." Stiles finished for him. I sniffed, wiping my wet cheeks. I could feel a pair of eyes on me. "Wait, are you crying?"

I sobbed even harder when the boy standing next to me noticed that I was weeping. "I don't know why," I continued cleaning my face. "I just got emotional." The three boys grinned, Stiles embracing me while softly laughing.

"The pain's gonna be worse than anything you've ever felt." Derek let him know, but that wasn't going to scare Scott.

Fire. He was going to burn Scott. "Oh, wow. That's a... that's a lot for me. So I'm gonna take that as my cue. I'm just gonna wait outside." He tried to leave, and I tried to follow him, but Derek wasn't having any of it when he got up, grabbing us from the back of our shirts, and telling us to hold Scott down.

When we were leaving Derek's house after holding Scott down, who cried loudly, until he passed out. The McCall boy couldn't help but grin and be excited about his first tattoo.

"Well, it looks pretty damn permanent now." Stiles examined it, hands deep down in his pockets.

"Yeah. I kind of needed something permanent. Everything that's happened to us... everything just changes so fast." I sighed, linking my arms with both boys, who offered me a smile. "Everything's so, uh... Ephemeral."

"Studying for the psats?"

"Yep."

"Nice."

Scott opened the front door, but rare enough, he examined it while rubbing his fingers against the wood. "You painted the door. Why'd you paint the door?" He asked, looking back at Derek.

"Go home, Scott."

"Hey," I intervened. Scott's breath got quicker, scratching the paint off the door. "What is going on, Scott?" There was a symbol on the door.

TAGLIST: @og-baby-ob14 - @savemypostcards - @cas-loves-pizza - @used-avocado - @mvrylee - @bilesxbilinskixlahey - @honeydoll-stark - @arieltheworldisamess - @softpeteparker - @kit-kat-katie99 - @thatsuperherosidekick - @bexbetterxthanxwords - @big-galaxy-chaos - @littlemiss-forgotten - @enchantedcruelsummer - @coldfreakeggsexpert - @merla123 - @sammypotato67 - @weirdowithnobeardo - @maggiesblogsblog - @itskindyl - @bobo-bush - @moongoddesskiana - @multifandxm353 - @irwxnhugsx - @xoprincessmel - @iclosetgeek - @andreagf956 - @niawoods - @anerroroccurrrrred - @perrytheplatypus11 - @trustfundparker - @nmriia - @steve-harringtonnn - @trustfundparker - @brithedemonspawn - @weirdowithnobeardo - @my-soul-is-the-moon - @azayamari - @poguestyle17 - @bibliophilewednesday - @10minutesofscreentime - @momentitodebruh -

People in bold means it doesn’t let me tag them.

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damienthepious · 4 years

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tuesday vibes are Cuddle Sleepily

To Be Inside Your Arms

[ao3]

Fandom: The Penumbra Podcast

Relationship: Lord Arum/Sir Damien/Rilla

Characters: Sir Damien, Lord Arum, Rilla

Additional Tags: Second Citadel, Lizard Kissin’ Tuesday, Post-Episode: s02e36-41 Second Citadel - The Battle at World's End, (literally directly post. so like. yeah), Early Relationship, Sleepy Cuddles, Awkwardness, (they're trying), Literal Sleeping Together

Summary: They went somewhere to talk, but that talk is honestly going to have to wait until they aren't so completely drained.

Notes: I've had this idea for a while, to the point where I tried to start it like... five different times. I literally have like Five different half-paragraph openings for this exact pseudo-conversation, and this one FINALLY stuck. They're all... very new at this. Also? Yes, I know we just finished s3 and here I am writing DIRECTLY post s2 content, but consider: I Want To.Title from the song Parallels by Big Thief.

Lord Arum brings them somewhere safe, after their duel, after their song. It is a small structure, nearly impossible to distinguish from the plants surrounding it until Arum points it out, pressing on one particular knot in the wall of thick, woven-together vines and prompting a hidden door to swing open for them and reveal a small, cozy sort of space.

Rilla helps Damien out of his armor after they close the door of the little bark-walled hut behind them, and they clean off the worst of the grime, the tears, the mud, the blood. Rilla sets Damien's arm properly, and the lizard pretends not to keep a concerned eye on them as he starts a fire in the clay hearth, putting water to boil for tea. Rilla splints her poor ankle as well, batting Damien's hands away when he tries to help, and when she finishes she sighs with such weariness that it cuts through to Damien's heart.

Arum frowns, then, watching Rilla's face, the purpling shadows beneath her eyes, the slump of her shoulders, and then the monster extinguishes the fire before the water comes to a proper boil.

There is a pause before Rilla notices, which is even more damning evidence of her exhaustion than anything else.

"What, change your mind?" she asks, raising an eyebrow.

"I did, in fact," Arum rumbles, looking away. "We won't be needing the tea to accompany our conversation. There is no productive conversation to be had while the both of you are in such sorry states."

"S-sorry?" Damien manages, his voice going high, and the monster's frown deepens, the frill at his neck raising just slightly, in anger or whatever else Damien does not know.

"You are both injured, and you are both clearly well past exhausted. I would rather hold a conversation with creatures more lucid than the both of you will currently be."

Damien blinks, entirely uncertain what Arum's sharp, uncomfortable tone and his deeply deliberate avoidance of eye contact indicate, but Rilla folds her arms over her chest with something like a smile ghosting across her lips.

"If that's your way of saying that you're worried about us, that's very sweet of you."

Arum growls, still looking away as he pokes at the hearth to ensure that the logs aren't going to reignite. "Don't be absurd," he says quickly, and something in Damien's chest skips at the transparency of the denial.

"Okay," Rilla says soothingly, smiling a little wider. "Right. Entirely selfish reasons, then."

"Entirely," the monster says, still looking away.

"I imagine that you are rather exhausted yourself, Lord Arum," Damien offers.

"Yes, well," Arum straightens, huffing in a way that reminds Damien of a bird ruffling its feathers. "Any day during which one nearly dies or averts an extinction event is bound to be somewhat draining, and each of us have experienced at least one of those two since the sun rose today."

Rilla snorts a laugh, and then- another expression crosses her face, far more serious.

"Thank you, by the way," she says, and Arum immediately winces. "I don't… I don't know that we would've made it out of there, if you didn't tell me... just, thank you." He turns towards her with a rising snarl, but Rilla's smile is awkward and uncertain, and the sight of it makes the angry rattle in Arum's throat stutter off.

He swallows, and then looks away again, his tail flicking. "Don't... don't thank me for- for giving you a chance to clean up the mess that I made, Amaryllis," he mutters, and then he shakes his head as she opens her mouth to retort. "And this is- precisely what I meant. We can argue over culpability and injury and morality in the morning, if you have not changed your minds by then, takatakataka."

Rilla scowls more deeply as Damien considers Arum's phrasing, noting that the lizard only suggested that they might change their minds. Apparently, Arum does not imagine that his own feelings are in danger of any such shift.

"Fine," Rilla relents, "fine, fine. Okay. Sleep, then. Is there a bedroom tucked in here or are we just gonna pile up on the floor?"

Arum turns with a grumble, presses a hand against a wide leaf that Damien assumed was simply part of the wall, and the flora swings aside, showing another smaller room.

Rilla grabs Damien's uninjured arm as she passes him, pulling them both along together to follow the lizard.

"Okay?" she murmurs, her eyes cautious, and Damien's heart aches again with fondness, with appreciation, and he squeezes her hand in return.

Arum pretends not to hear them, reaching to light a small lantern with a flick of the wrist (Damien is unsure, precisely, if the monster is using some magic, or if he is simply deft with some small tool Damien cannot see) and then turning to frown in the vague direction of their clasped hands.

"I suppose this will have to do, for the moment," he says, and Damien struggles to bury a smile.

The bed is- not exactly a bed. It appears to be as much grown as the rest of the structure, low to the ground, woven from soft living leaves, with a silk sheet puddled unceremoniously across the bottom half. Damien sags at the sight regardless, his body preemptively relieved at the mere idea of rest, and beside him Rilla exhales an entire lungful of exhaustion herself.

Arum's lip twitches, almost a smile, and then he gestures towards the bed. "I suppose I should... leave you to it, then." He pauses, flicks his tongue in the air as two of his hands brush at his cape and the other two fold stiffly behind his back. "Sleep... sleep well."

Damien's heart twists, sinks, and when Arum glances back towards him again he realizes that he must have made some small, unhappy noise. Rilla squeezes his hand again, more gently.

"Unless you would prefer I stay," the monster says quickly, and then he glances away. "This part of the swamp is not particularly dangerous, but of course I would understand if you should require a- a show of good faith, or-"

"I'd just rather have you here," Rilla says, and the monster snaps his mouth shut.

"I... yes," Damien agrees, his voice feeling small. "I know it has been rather too full a day to finish with a... a negotiation of our positions, together, but- but at the very least, I think, we have agreed that we- we would like to try. To try to- to be, together. If it would not trouble you to-"

"I did not wish to press past your own comfort." Arum winces, makes a rumbling noise in his chest with his frill fluttering, and then he takes another step closer. "That's all. If this... if you do not mind my presence-"

"Oh for Saints' sake," Rilla mutters, and then she simply turns and tips herself over like a falling tree, bouncing to land on the bed with a heavy sigh. "C'mon, already," she says, her eyes already closed as she scrabbles with a hand to snatch the sheet and pull it closer. "Whole point is that we're fucking exhausted, and I'm too tired to pretend that I don't want the both of you where I can reach you, even if we haven't put words on it yet."

Damien's heart swells, Rilla's breathy, lazy, slipping-towards-sleep voice so familiar and safe, even in such a strange place. Arum takes another step closer with a small laugh, his frill settling and his own eyes full of something that Damien recognizes after a moment as fondness. Damien bites his lip, as if that will do anything at all to stifle the size of his emotions, and then he reaches a hand out to help Rilla untangle the sheet.

She grabs his wrist and pulls, though, and Damien doesn't have the presence of mind (or the inclination, truly) to resist, and he stumbles sideways to collapse beside Rilla, yelping as he goes. Rilla mutters wordlessly, tugging Damien closer with one hand and pressing her head into his shoulder, and Damien could not suppress his smile for the whole of the world as he curls his arms around her, settling helplessly against the softness of the bed.

He glances up, over Rilla's shoulder, and Arum-

The amount of desire in Arum's vivid, violet eyes knocks the breath from Damien's lungs. He stares down at them, his hands still fisted tight in the fabric of his cape, his frame held so carefully still, and then as Damien catches his gaze he exhales a breath, his tongue flicking in the air.

Rilla makes another grumbling noise, stretching her other arm - the one not clinging to Damien's back - out across the bed, in the vague direction of Lord Arum, though her eyes do not open again. Damien laughs lightly, and then he meets Arum's eyes again.

Arum hesitates, frill fluttering again, but then Rilla makes another, slightly angrier noise, and Damien draws his hands soothingly down her back with another breath of laughter.

"I very much doubt she will let either of us rest, Lord Arum, unless you come join us," he says, keeping his tone teasing and light, and Arum laughs as well.

"She is... rather stubborn," the monster mutters, fond again, and Rilla finally cracks an eye open to glare at him. "Alright," he shakes his head, "alright."

He follows the grasping direction of Rilla's other hand, slipping onto the bed on the side opposite Damien and letting her draw her palm down his bicep, down his forearm before she grips his scaled hand and squeezes with a contented sigh, finally settling against the softness beneath them.

"Better?" Damien murmurs, his lips close beside Rilla's temple, and she sighs again, nodding slightly.

"Stubborn," Arum murmurs again, draping himself out on the bed beside Rilla, but when he leaves a careful degree of space between them, Rilla rolls closer. She presses her cheek against his shoulder, then tugs his hand to settle over her heart with an impatient huff. "Amaryllis-"

"Shush. We're sleeping. Want you closer. Manage feelings in the morning."

Arum glances over her head with a raised eyebrow, and Damien smiles helplessly, and then he- he decides that Rilla is right. He shifts closer as well, folding himself along Rilla's back and wrapping an arm around her so he may do as he wishes, and curl his hand around Rilla and Arum's own, clasped by her collarbone.

Arum exhales, shaky with a hint of a rattle at the back of his throat. "Ridiculous," he mutters unconvincingly, and then with his free hand he reaches and tugs up the sheet, arranging it to rest properly over all three of them before he settles.

It feels... easy, Damien realizes with some surprise. The complication, the tangled web woven between all of them, the friction and lack of understanding and the fear (or worry, at the very least); it will all return with the morning, Damien suspects.

Right now, though. Right now, in this moment, in the haze of exhaustion but with the assurance that they are all three of them together, whole, and safe, finally safe- that they are willing to look each other in the eye and speak their hearts, that they may rest upon each other, may tangle their hands between them-

It feels easy, to brush his thumb across Rilla and Arum's knuckles, twined together. It feels easy to let the weariness carry him deeper, closer to slumber, tucked warm beside his forever-flower and Lord Arum.

With time, Damien thinks, and with patience, perhaps they might make all of the troubles between them feel easy, as well.

#elle's fanfic #the penumbra podcast #second citadel #rad bouquet #lizard kissin' tuesday #sir damien #lord arum #amaryllis of exile #i'm [scream] all the time basically #rebageles appreciatem

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headofhelios · 3 years

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Ok I am a single follower but I like hannibal tv but would enjoy ur movie thoughts I like some of the books too and have been meaning to get around to the movies 😳😳

OKAY I'M EDITING A READMORE ONTO THIS LOL I REALIZED THATS SOMETHING I CAN DO! so now my incredibly waaayyy too long answer abt my thoughts on 2002 will is under there. apologies bc this is less "movie thoughts" and more "2002 movie will thoughts" but well thats how the chips fell

GOD okay sooo for the record i am reading the red dragon book and am like 7 or 8 chapters in and full transparency im not like. enjoying it lol. the book pisses me off with its misogyny (all the women in it are either dead or it feels like you're supposed to think theyre Selfish Bitches or theyre just there for like. bizarre and uncomfortable sexual moments like the guys talking abt that woman in the elevator, or that one part of mrs. leeds diary which is like. i guess could be there to Show Her Humanity or whatever but 1. there are more ways to do that 2. the book doesnt seem particularly concerned with her humanity considering she's barely even given a first name and so far the novel hasnt seemed to disapprove of how will thinks of her as a possession of her husband) and its inconsistency with will's most important character trait or whatever (he's so intensely, extremely empathetic towards EVERYONE, even serial killers, which makes him really good at finding them! and he can never turn this off, to the point where every time he has a conversation with someone, he ends up mimicking the way they talk, even if he tries to stop! but also he never empathizes with the victims or HIS OWN FUCKING WIFE? HELLO? so it really feels less like "extremely strong empathy for everyone that he cant control" and more like "he can empathize with serial killers extremely well and also other people if we want to Make A Point in one scene instead of letting the point show through the whole book") BUT UHHH ANYWAY. MOVIE THOUGHTS. THE MOVIE THOUGHTS YOU ASKED FOR COMING RIGHT UP!

okay this is what i am worried will either 1. draw annoying tv will graham stans to my blog like flies or 2. end with me being hanged in the town square BUT. it must be said. i prefer 2002 red dragon will graham to tv will graham. and quite frankly? so far? i think 2002 red dragon will graham is better than book will graham. i cannot lie.

my reasoning: because 2002 will actually empathizes with more people than serial killers and his boss! y'know! like you'd assume someone with constant extreme empathy would! the difference between the first scene with molly in the book vs in the movie are SO striking to me now that i've read that part of the novel. in the novel he seems very... rough, i guess, and like he doesnt care about molly's worries. he doesnt seem to see things from her perspective, which especially feels like a kick to the gut because MOLLY! SEES! THINGS! FROM! HIS! PERSPECTIVE!!! she literally empathizes with him more than he does with her! what the fuck! MEANWHILE in the movie, he does seem to care about her. his assurances that he wont get too involved seem like assurances rather than him trying to get her off his back. he hugs her and tells her he loves her and i actually believe that yeah, he loves her, he knows she's worried about him, and he wants to comfort her and ease her worries. and the victims! AGAIN such a stark difference to me! in the book, will is like... uncomfortable empathizing w the red dragon, of course, but he doesnt seem to empathize with the victims all that much, ESPECIALLY not the women. he doesnt care about them. he sees them as possessions belonging to their husbands and its so fucking gross. despite already suspecting that the red dragon chooses families based on the women, he decides to waste time focusing on the husbands as a way of "asking permission to look at [their wives]." what the fuck? meanwhile in the film, he feels for the victims so much that he can barely even say that the kids were shot in bed! when he watches the tapes, he focuses on the women! because that's his fucking job!!! and we see him empathizing with them! wow!!

siiigh okay im gonna stop talking abt the book vs the movie now bc again im only like 8 chapters or so deep. but now we come to tv will vs. 2002 will, which is admittedly gonna be more subjective and part of that it bc i cant remember a whole lot of specifics from the show bc my memory is Very Bad. but anyway

let's get the shallow stuff out of the way. yes i prefer ed norton's face to hugh dancy's. call hugh dancy "gender" or whatever have your fun i support you and your right to call any blood covered man a gender but by god is that not even REMOTELY my experience. next shallow thing to get out of the way: ed norton's line delivery is like music to my FUCKING ears compared to hugh dancy's i am so sorry. like the jokes about will shaking like a damp chihuahua before taking 5 minutes to stutter out "he's killing them....... On Purpose, jack." are funny and all but christ i had SUCH a hard time watching the show bc of that im not lying. literally hearing 2002 will just say "he's not keeping them. he's eating them." nice and quick, matter of factly is better than well im actually gonna end that sentence there but you get the idea. like YESSS you little blonde bitch get to the point i love you!!!

OKAY NOW less shallow points but also less uhh idk man i just dont remember a lot of hannibal. but basically: after seeing how caring 2002 will is, i'm kind of... idk i'm just so over tv will and how abrasive and harsh he is in comparison. like i fell in LOVE with how vulnerable 2002 will is, how he feels like he cares deeply about the people around him (and honestly... idk i cant remember a moment in the hannibal tv series that made me feel the way i felt when 2002 will can't say "the kids were shot in their beds". it's like... yeah this is a guy who feels so deeply for everyone around him at all times. i believe that.) and i just dont remember getting that same feeling from tv will. i have been gently spoon fed the most excellent chocolate pudding and everything else in my memory is just a snack pack. i guess tv will has those moments (what comes to mind is when he brings gideon to hannibal's house and is crying and he says "please dont lie to me") but idk they just didnt really do for me what 2002 will does. and then their scenes with reba! wow! i rewatched the tv version after watching red dragon, bc the film version made me tear up, meanwhile the tv version i barely remembered and i wasnt sure if that was just bc of the different mindsets i was in while watching them or what. and ok i just rewatched the tv version again and like... yeah. it's the wills lol. i LOVEEE tv reba SO much she is giving everything in that scene!! she sounds so like... broken, both bc of dolarhyde's apparent suicide and bc of finding out who he was + what he was doing, she sounds so fragile and guilt ridden! she's amazing!! but will. idk. tv will's delivery just seems... idk this feels dumb to say but it sounds like writing. i admittedly LOVE the line "people who study this kind of thing say that he was trying to stop because you helped him." and his delivery there is good. but between tv "you didnt draw a freak, you drew a man w a freak on his back" and the 2002 version, the 2002 delivery seems more genuine while the tv delivery sounds rehearsed. idk overall the 2002 version of that conversation just makes me feel more? its like. idk i can feel the 2002 version gently holding my heart while the tv version is a scene that is nice in h/nnigram gifsets or w/e.

umm ok this is already suuuper long and my brain is getting a bit mushy so i'm gonna start wrapping it up lol. i'll probably compare book will and 2002 will again after i finish the book, and then i miiight rewatch hannibal, or at least parts of s3. but right now my thoughts are basically: book will is a fucking dick who has an easier time empathizing with serial killers than with his wife. tv will is a nothing girl after being so completely catered to + also idk he doesnt have the same fragility that i want from my wills now. and 2002 will is my little caramel apple. he has this delightful vulnerability and feels like he cares so much and empathizes with more people than serial killers and his boss and 4 people in a diner for one scene! 2002 will made me care about will graham! which is honestly kind of a feat!

#long post #like so so so long #my condolences anon and also anyone following me who doesnt want this on their dash #but yeah 2002 will is my booboo bear my cinnamon swirl coffeecake my little heavensent angel #and ed nortons performance made me feel more than hugh dancy's #i think ed norton does a really good job at giving his characters that kind of vulnerability and i LOVE that!!#like yeah whatever 'you're gat arent you dont you just think hes hot' sure say that but also like #have you seen him in primal fear? its a movie thats a firm Its Complicated for me but his performance is so good and he feels so vulnerable #and even in fight club and kingdom of heaven i think he gets that in there! idk i genuinely think he's a good actor #personal #red dragon #if im writing an essay i may as well put it in my tags #asks #anonymous #<- FORGOT TO ADD THOSE TAGS. anyway #EDIT: NOW FEATURING A READMORE LOL.

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steve0discusses · 4 years

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Yugioh Ep 36 S4: Seto Joins Dragon Wife in Hell

So I dunno about you guys, but 2020 aged me like a lot in just these 8 months, so I figured it was time to embrace the feeling of being on death’s door and I decided to learn Mahjong. So I could truly embrace the ancients and vibe in their natural habitat.

Anyway, once I learned some Mahjong lore, some parts of Yugioh just open up. Namely--Seto’s dragons. Like a whole lot of stuff about early Seto Kaiba that confused me at the time just makes so much more sense now.

But unfortunately, he dies this episode, and he never pulled out his Blue Eyes White Dragons, and it’s just like...

...but my Mahjong deep cuts...

Like every episode I’m just rubbing my palms together in anticipation that someone will die, but like...I never get to talk about how in Mahjong, there’s only 4 white dragon tiles, but if you have 3, you can steal the fourth white dragon from another player’s discards, and that when you that, other stuff happens...I don’t get to talk about that because Seto’s hella dead.

So lets just get to the death. Dartz decides to make all of our soldier frenemies attack Pharaoh--because that’s all he needs to raise the Leviathan. Like Dartz doesn’t even really need to finish this game. He just needs Yami.

Seto picks up that these friend (and Pegasus) soldiers that Yami refuses to kill are probably going to end the world very quickly so he decides to do something about it. If this were a blog where I talked about cards instead of Mahjong, then I’d dive into the intricacies of what that even was.

But, we’re not, so lets just talk about Pegasus.

(read more under the cut)

This guy harnesses some psychic energy he’s got leftover from S1 and communicates directly to Pharaoh’s mind.

So, hey, what was that about Pegasus not having powers anymore? Like? He’s still doing this? He’s still psychic and he very clearly can still make blank cards so like...I guess you can take out the eyeball and make him nicer, but you can’t take out some of the effed up magic side-effects. (like there was a comment I didn’t respond to (which, sorry about that, been a little nuts over here in California), but apparently there was a movie in between seasons where Pegasus saved their lives--so he’s legit good now...there was a DLC where character arcs happened.)

Which kind makes you wonder about Marik, but we’ll probably never see him again so o well, save it for the fanfiction.

PS Yami is totally fixating on that eye we can’t see, right? Like...it never outright tells us, but does this spiritual Orichalcos manifestation of Pegasus still have the golden eye? A human eye? Or no eye at all? Just skin?

Not like it matters because Seto does some sort of card shenanigans that undo the whole friends that are soldiers thing like it never happened.

MMMMM I don’t like these weird legs on Yugi. Don’t like the thighs it gave to Joey. No! I’m seeing like this skin-tight silhouette of half an ass right now and I really don’t like it.

Along with other card things I won’t go into that consumed most of this episode, Seto finally got hit by a...well, I mean you can clearly see it in the next cap.

So, in Mahjong, there are 3 types of dragons: a white dragon, a red dragon, and a green dragon. I used to think it was really lazy that we’re just calling monsters straight up “white dragon” or “red dragon” in this show, but now it makes more sense because this whole time it was probably baby’s first Mahjong reference but I’m too Western to know that.

Anyway, the white dragon is funny looking because it’s a white tile--just a completely blank white tile. I thought it was a wild card at first but nah--it’s a white dragon in a snowfield--which is a very funny Dad joke from 200 years ago we’re still doing today. But, often, instead of a Dad joke, they’ll just make the white dragon tile a drawing of a blank card, like this:

Kind of funny that the guy who’s shtick is white dragons, ended up with his soul in a blank card. Was that a mahjong reference? Probably not, but I noticed it.

And mahjong aside, the show paid it’s respects to Seto dying and so he took his sweet time passing on. It’s still not that much respect. We aren’t gonna get that amazing Joey death sequence from S3 that took like half an episode of scene-shredding for our mains to recover from, but like...Seto was very determined to keep going, despite not having a soul.

He even finished his turn of cards, as if to just spite Joey Wheeler for that one time Joey hella died before killing Marik.

Shippers rejoice, it’s a Yami and Seto Kaiba death sequence. If you squint really hard, it might even be an embrace. I mean they both have very sharp duel disks on, and if Yugi’s closes for whatever reason, it’ll snap Seto’s head clear off, but what other “hugs” do we really get on this show?

And as for Mokuba, he was quite tragic this episode. I mean it’s Yugioh, so it’s not like you’re gonna cry or anything, but Mokuba just doesn’t really have anything else going for him without his brother so it is legit like...man Mokuba gets a lot of crap thrown his way and even when he’s happy, he still has to live with Seto so just...Mokuba...

Again we get this bubble effect of other people trying to enter the Orichalcos which happens just a Hell of a lot this season. Like Dartz probably has never had a single person WANT to go in the green zone in 10,000 years and then these bizarre children happened and they just want to bounce off that thing like a jello pudding.

I think it took over 5 minutes for Seto to die, and he was very, very, VERY angry the entire time. Just fueled by literally nothing but rage. Could probably go a couple more episodes if he had taken a nap in the KaibaCopter, but alas, even Seto Kaiba eventually runs out of fumes.

Anyway, another Mahjong fun fact. The dragon tiles are considered an “honor tile” and how many times have we heard Seto--who is such a scumball--go off about his honor? It can be hard to use honors tiles because their rate of success is lower, so when Seto’s like “I have to live up to my dragon’s honor or I can’t keep these in my deck” could he be like...making a Mahjong pun as well as a literal reference to whatever he defines as honor?

...Again, just a Mahjong reference I noticed, but probably not what they intended at all. Which is Good Enough for this blog.

After he tragically passed on, and Yami delicately put his body on the ground, -- Dartz decided to make this moment very funny for me, instead.

Bless.

Not as good as Yami the both times his body was chucked casually across the screen this season--but a very good toss, nonetheless.

I have made so MANY clips of this season!

Tristan and Tea kinda just stood there this entire episode while this was all going down and like...I know they can’t really do anything else at this point but like...can someone give Mokuba a hug???

I can’t believe Valon was the only guy in this entire show about friendship who knew how to hug people. He was in prison since he was 9, and then was raised by freakin Dartz, why is he the only hugger?

PS, apparently Seto’s yummy soul was enough to make the Leviathan open a single eye-ball in curiosity.

Mokuba out there flinging so many insults that he got everyone else banned from watching devil cards. It’s like sports competitions in Middle school with that one kid who won’t stop cussing. That one kid who is the reason everyone else has to sit through a boring ass assembly about sportsmanship? That’s Mokuba.

Now that everyone is ‘passed out’, we can get to the juicy stuff only the olds talk about--which sounds a lot like I’m about to do another segway into talking about Mahjong again, but I’m actually all out of the Mahjong juice. Again, I’m ass at Mahjong.

(and like...the peanut gallery died in the original version, right? I know to never trust a “they’re just sleeping” line in Yugioh.)

Dartz telling me he dragged that ass length blue hair across Egypt?

Man.

I would say that it must’ve really thrown people, but then again, their Pharaoh looked like...that.

So Dartz ended up wandering the earth for 5000 years, cursed to live immortally, unable to revive the great Leviathan, wallowing in his failure. Sentenced to suffer the entire existence of humanity that he never wanted to see survive anyway, unable to die himself.

That’s an interesting plotline that I wish I saw more of. I really like the idea of a supervillian who is already past his prime, who’s already burnt out, who’s so far removed from what happened that he’s fully accepted his demise and is just wandering around out of habit. But, most importantly--that changes my math. That’s like...5000 years he wasn’t slurping no souls because he was too damn depressed. So I’ll append the Deathcount. One second.

OK so we can just subtract 7.3 million from what we had, leaving us with: 7,805,844,047. Barely even made a dent but...eh...when you got the current population of the Earth in there it’s really hard to make a dent in that thing.

PS I still have that google doc where I keep track of the deaths, we have 55 lines of entries, haha.

Yugioh is interesting because you do have some racial stuff going on here where Yami is SO OLD that he doesn’t remember not only his own name--he doesn’t remember what he looks like. He’s even seen it a few times in hallucinations but like...Yami legit doesn’t know what it is to be an ancient Egyptian anymore. It’s been a hot minute, and he still sees himself as a pale skinned Yugi clone when he spiritually manifests in the show. Because the modern day, set in Japan, through Yugi’s eyes--that’s all he knows about life.

Dartz was so impressed by Pharaoh’s magic powers that he knew--he just KNEW that this Pharaoh with the worst hair would be the yummy soul for the Leviathan tummy. But unfortunately...

This is a show that has had so MANY overlapping apocalypses that I did have to sit back and kind of count off on my fingers which crazy person this would be about.

Honestly? Either Seto or Bakura...guessing Bakura because we haven’t finished his storyline yet and I know that he’s the big bad of S5. But man...Dartz was just like “oh...no thanks to that guy. I’ll just take a nap for 5000 years, BIG no thanks.” and it does make you wonder...

...oh...so that’s why you didn’t bother Bakura in this timeline.

It also helps make Bakura even more of a threat. Again, Bakura is great because he’s just constantly leaving nuggets of what a threat he is and then just...disappears for seasons on end. The Bakura we’ve made in our head is probably way more awful than what he may end up being.

But for now, it’s fun to just fill in the gaps instead.

anyway that was it for this episode, I’m off to pretend it’s Thanksgiving week and will look forward to drowning my anxiety in a 16 lb turkey shared between four people.

Anyway, I brought up the cat that falls asleep on metal rods so I have to do this:

And for those that are new, this is a link to read these in chrono order: https://steve0discusses.tumblr.com/tagged/yugioh/chrono

#yugioh #ygo #yu-gi-oh #yami #dartz #seto kaiba #dies #mokuba #tea gardner #tristan taylor #Yugi Muto #Joey Wheeler #'s weird ass pants with the flap thing going on #mahjong #S4 Ep36

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jowritesthingss · 4 years

Text

Excuse Me Sir This Is My Emotional Support Eldritch Being

Fandom: The Magnus Archives

Pairing(s): n/a

Rating: Teen (for swearing)

Content Warning(s): rabbits, food/drink, mild(ish) swearing, not!Sasha, eldritch beings, spoilers through early s3-ish

Length: 2,190 words

Brief Summary: The archival team adopts a rabbit. (Part one of the Emotional Support Eldritch AU!)

AO3 link in reblogs bc Tumblr is a biatch!

“What is it?”

Jon levels a suspicious glare down at the fluffy blob comfortably stretched out in the middle of the overstuffed break room couch.

Tim blinks owlishly at him from behind his mug of tea. “A...rabbit?”

“Yes, but are you sure it’s a rabbit?” Jon asks insistently. “Not a—a spirit, or...an animated doll, or a clown in disguise or something?”

Sighing, Tim sets his tea down on the counter. “Look, I get the whole ‘suspicious of us being murderers’ thing—no I don’t, actually, but that’s beside the point—it. is. a rabbit.” For a good measure, he walks over to sit on one side of the rabbit, reaching a hand out to the little guy’s fluffy head. If a rabbit could smile, he suspects this one would be doing so as it leans up into his hand.

“No fleas or ticks...or worms, so it’s not some Jane Prentiss Pet Sematary crossover, I promise—” Tim rolls his eyes, “—the veterinarian confirmed as much when I brought the poor thing in. Out of the mud and the rain of the gutter,” he adds, not even attempting to hide the guilt-trip. He wishes Martin were here, with his ridiculously effective puppy-dog eyes.

Tim knows this is Jon he’s talking to, but surely even he can’t be that cold-hearted. He rather thinks that Jon will enjoy not being alone anymore down here during all his late nights. If he’d let himself, surely Jon would enjoy having company in the form of a teeny tiny creature that can’t and won’t harm him—which, uh, certainly is not why he’s lying about his current flat not permitting pets, no siree.

“...Fine. Whatever.” Jon points an accusing finger at him. “But we’re not keeping it,” he stresses. “The moment you find it a different home, it goes. The moment.”

“Sure thing, boss,” Tim chirps, although as he begins a staring contest with the rabbit’s curious red eyes, he has no intention of actually doing as Jon says.

Martin chooses this moment to walk through the door. His eyes light up. “Aw, is that a rabbit?”

“No, this does not mean you’re allowed to bring in more strays,” Jon snaps.

The light in Martin’s eyes fades. “Okay,” he says mournfully as he crouches to pet the rabbit, sulking.

“So what should we name him?” Tim asks Jon when the Head Archivist comes into the break room the next morning.

“Oh—my—” Jon startles where he stands by the counter, attempting to make himself some toast with the Archive’s horrible fifteen-year-old toaster—toast that now splatters across the floor. Somehow in his sleep-deprived stupor he must’ve missed Tim sitting on the couch with a white rabbit on his head. He never seems to really notice Tim, but at this point it’s fine enough; Tim has accepted that the guy has impossibly poor taste.

The rabbit clambers down from Tim’s shoulders, jumping off of the couch and padding over to investigate the new human(?) and the mess he made.

“How about Thumper?” Tim puzzles aloud, stretching leisurely and acting as if he doesn’t notice Jon frantically scrubbing up raspberry jam and trying to avoid the rabbit’s investigative snuffles all in one. “No, no...that’s too cliché.”

“I really don’t see the point in naming it when it shouldn’t be here more than a few weeks,” Jon comments, shooing the animal in question away before it can try to lick up any jam.

“Maybe Joe?” Tim continues loudly, as if he hadn’t heard the other. When the rabbit ambles back over to him, he scoops them up, pressing their noses together. “Ligma?” He shakes his head at the rabbit. “No, no. We need to have more sophistication as we go about this.”

“You could do with applying that sophistication to your work,” comes the grumbled retort.

“What?”

“Nothing.” Jon abruptly turns to burn another piece of bread in the toaster.

“How about Marshmallow?”

“What on Earth—” Jon shrieks, jumping in his desk chair, and a sheaf of papers is sent flying around the office.

“The rabbit. Should we call him ‘Marshmallow’?” Tim smiles as innocently as he can manage, standing out in the hall with his head peeping into his boss’ office. “Marshie for short?”

“I am in the middle of a statement!” Jon sputters. “Get out!”

“Okay, okay....” Tim fluidly shrugs his shoulders. “What about ‘Bob’?”

“Out!”

But Tim continues to pop into Jon’s office unannounced throughout the day, tossing out name suggestions. He even manages to rope Martin into doing it too, and notes with savage delight that between the two of them and his work, Jon doesn’t get much more than a moment to wallow rest for the remainder of the day.

Between the two of them Tim and Martin manage to compile a surprisingly long list of names:

Snowball,

Posy (Martin is partial to this one because he thinks it’s cute),

Bungen Leitner,

John Jacob Jingleheimer Schmidt (“is that too American of a reference for a fanfic taking place in the UK?” “what?” “what?”),

the Bunholding,

Michael (Jon is especially averse to that one for some reason),

Cottonball,

Fluffy Bastard (Tim’s own favorite),

Bugs Bunny,

Eldritch Horror (Tim tosses that one in as a joke; no way the rabbit that eats his own shit is some kind of otherworldly being),

Big Bungus (“it’s a play off Big Chungus!” “d’you seriously think anyone else here even knows what memes are”), and

the Vampiric Count Sir Maximillianus-Who-Is-Also-A-Werebun

(Despite badgering Sasha multiple times in an attempt to get her thoughts on the matter, the only name she offers up is “Dinner”, which makes Martin cry, so that one is out.)

None of the names quite seem to fit the little white puffball that has now taken over the realm of their break room, however—so Tim and Martin find themselves going back to the drawing board. They reluctantly leave the Institute at the end of the day, still without having decided upon a name.

“JON JUNIOR!” Martin screeches excitedly the next morning as they’re congregating once more in the break room, zombie-like before their tea and mid-morning snack time (primary schools don’t get all the fun, okay).

Jon and Sasha startle, and for once even Tim himself jumps. The rabbit doesn’t seem to care much where he is, nibbling at some hay in his corner litter box.

“I—what?” Jon asks, flabbergasted, although he manages to not drop his toast this time. Character development.

“We should name him Jon Jr! After you!” Martin explains eagerly.

“Absolutely not,” Jon tries to say, but before he can finish, Tim is jumping in.

“I think that is an excellent idea,” he says, grinning broadly. “Thoughts, Sasha?”

“I’m not emotionally invested in this.” Sasha shrugs, uncaring. “I’m going back to my desk.” She takes her drink and walks out of the room, letting the door slam shut behind her.

“All right, since Sasha doesn’t care, I’ll decide her vote for her,” Tim says, carefully containing his glee. “So that’s three votes for and one against, then. Majority rules.”

“What? No!” John protests, but Tim is too busy looking at the rabbit for confirmation.

“What do you think, little guy?” He walks over, bends down, and lightly boops the rabbit’s nose. “Are you a Jon Jr?”

The rabbit twitches his nose in agreement and poops.

“Well then!” Tim stands, clapping his hands together. “That’s been decided upon.”

No, it hasn’t,” Jon insists, but Tim cares little for his boss’ objections. He’ll accept his fate as Jon Senior eventually.

To Tim’s utter surprise and fascination, it happens sooner than later.

Jon, Tim quickly realizes, is a lot like the one dad who says “no dog” and then ends up loving the dog more than he loves his own children.

Despite his initial objections, the daft fool ends up getting caught up in Jon Jr’s big, innocent, rabbit-y gaze (worse than even Martin’s puppy-dog eyes, they conclude gravely), and by the end of the day Friday Jon has announced that he supposes the rabbit can stay with him over weekends and holidays.

“We’re still not keeping him,” Jon reminds them all, even as the rabbit gathered in his arms, giving his nose kisses and knocking his glasses askew, says otherwise.

He gets caught trying to sneak the rabbit into his office on more than one occasion, but Martin raises a fuss about it.

(“He’s all of ours! Jon Jr is our department’s mascot now,” Martin protests defiantly. “You can’t take him away from the rest of us.”

“Yeah,” Tim adds, mostly just to stir up drama—he doesn’t particularly care one way or another. “You can’t just swoop him up and file him away like one of your statements.”

“Just don’t let it get out and chew at my electronics,” Sasha says, distractedly typing something on her phone, probably to that weird new boyfriend.)

To stave off the imminent coup, Jon Jr becomes an officially-declared resident of the break room. He slowly amasses chub around his middle and a cardboard kingdom of bunny toys, houses, blankets, and treats. A rabbit could want for nothing more.

And perhaps—perhaps a human could want for nothing more, too, Tim thinks as he looks down at the figure curled up on the sofa, rabbit nestled against his chest.

He doesn’t love the man, not by a long, long shot—doesn’t even particularly like him half the time—but Tim can’t deny that the scene is adorable. And, regardless of his very vocal protests, Jon Jr may very well be what Jon Sr needs to finally process things and move the hell on with life.

Tim smiles grimly. It’s about damn time.

He quietly closes the door to the room and heads back towards the Archives. He’ll leave Jon to wake himself up.

(And to discover for himself that Jon Jr has peed on his pants leg.)

Of course, this is the Archive we’re talking about, so naturally the peace is abruptly shattered, and everything goes horribly, horribly wrong.

Tim isn’t entirely certain what happens or why, but all of a sudden Sasha isn’t really Sasha, and he and Jon have gotten backed up and cornered in the tunnels as this not-really-Sasha stalks towards them, predictably with the intent to kill, just like the rest of the spooks they are so lucky to deal with.

Tim and Jon Sr slowly back away until they hit a dead end. Meanwhile, Jon Jr licks at Tim’s arm—he’d been scooped up as they ran into the tunnels, Tim doesn’t entirely know why—and despite the fact that they are most probably about to, y’know, die, the little kisses almost feel strangely reassuring.

The thing-that-is-not-Sasha cackles, her—their?—its?—voice distorted and echoing throughout the tunnels. It stalks towards them.

All of a sudden, Jon Jr wriggles loose and leaps smoothly down onto the ground. He scampers in front of Tim and Jon, heading towards bitch-give-me-my-Sasha-back.

“No! Get back here!” Tim hisses at the rabbit, even though he knows it’s pointless. He hates to admit it, but he’s becoming rather fond of Jon Jr, even if Tim mostly brought him in to piss off and totally not help Jon. Jon—who, speaking of, seems to be equally fond now, judging by the deflating tire of a terrified squeak he makes, and the adorable immature grabby arms he makes at the little bugger.

“Junior,” Jon calls out, sounding like a toddler who’d just been told Santa wasn’t real (he is, they have the statements to prove it, he is). And Tim wants to laugh, albeit hysterically. The first time he sees his brick wall of a superior cry and it’s over a rabbit, and he’s not even going to have time to gloat over it because they’re about to die. “No! You’re going to—”

Jon Jr stops and sits in front of wholly-absolutely-totally-not-Sasha-what-the-fuck, who looks down at him, bemused through its murderous bloodlust.

The rabbit lifts a dainty paw up to his mouth, and suddenly—suddenly it’s twisting and huge, towering up to the ceiling of the tunnel, its skin hairless and tinted a sickly, glowing gray, with five, six, seven...a whole lot more limbs than a rabbit is supposed to have.

The not-rabbit unhinges its now meters-long jaw and snaps up the creature.

Tim and Jon stare at each other, wide-eyed.

There is a loud gulping sound, then a deafening crack, and suddenly there is a very normal white rabbit sitting in front of them again, carefully cleaning one paw with a very normal pink tongue.

“Wh—” Tim chokes on his own words.

The holy-shit-it-really-is-an-eldritch-horror-after-all stretches, yawns, and flops over in a dead sleep.

“...We’re keeping the rabbit,” Jon says faintly.

“I—yeah.” Tim nods, light-headed. “We’re keeping the rabbit.”

Jon Jr the rabbit-slash-eldritch-abomination gets a very hearty dinner of romaine lettuce, tomatoes, and cucumber peels that night.

(Tune in next time* for the terrible, terrible realization—“Jon Jr is a girl?!” (Also why is there another dead body again, dammit, can’t we go one week))

Fin

First || Next

(There may or may not actually be a next time. It depends. )

Behold. What very well may be the stupidest thing I have ever written. Ahem. Did I say stupidest? I meant most brilliant. Clearly I meant it’s the most brilliant thing I have ever written. Obviously.

Let me know if you enjoyed this! I have a bunch of ideas to continue this ridiculously silly AU of sorts, but idk if I’m going to quite yet and am not certain that I’ll be continuing to write for TMA. atm I’m focused on a different fandom, and I’m only on s3, so the really big idea I had has to wait, anyway.

Want to chat or be added onto any of my taglists? Shoot me an ask or a message here or via my other social media!

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bearpillowmonster · 4 years

Text

Static Shock Retrospective

I was watching Young Justice: Season 2 (Invasion) when I decided I wanted to watch this, I always liked Shock but never got into the lore of it, and I love his powers. I've seen gifs of the show and thought it looked interesting but never really got around to it, I just haven't been in the mood. Then I saw a video on YouTube called "Jimmy no!" not knowing that it was from Static Shock and oh boy...it got dark, I wasn't expecting it to go that deep, that kind of thing wouldn't get aired today but it made me interested in it again.

I started the first episode and Virgil's personality made it for me, mix that with Richie, played by Jason Marsden (aka Max Goof and Kovu) and you have a very nice protag duo. I instantly knew that I was going to finish it when I saw him using a blanket like Dr. Strange's cape or a homing device because of his static cling. Yes I started it because it's dark, but the series isn't always dark, just parts of it, like the first episode has to do with gangs, another with racism, then one where a kid gets trapped in a vault and is losing oxygen?? I mean is my memory hazy and cartoons were just like this and aren't now?

They call the people who were in the accident from his origin "Bang Babies" which sounds like a play on Baby Boomers, Virgil is pretty quippy like that. With this, I'm not a big fan of all the baddies coming from the same incident as our hero, especially when we don't see them all there in that episode, you might as well say that the whole town was infected.

Does it withstand the test of time? Well yeah, as I mentioned, there are things we probably wouldn't see in today's television but the topics are quite relevant as well as the humor. The visual style is pretty nice, the language they use isn't as "cringy early 2000's crap" as I thought, the only sign of age is formats, they'll talk about VCRs and have CDs hanging from the ceiling. The actual content is ahead of it's time with almost public service announcement type episodes that are extremely relevant today, for example, one episode they go to Africa and they show that "Black people can be superheroes too." and Virgil says about how in America he's a black kid, but in Africa he's just a regular kid and asks Ritchie if that's what it's like for him all the time. They talk about culture, sometimes it'll teach a lesson that way and it's so wholehearted that it just fits, it's really nice and surprising to see.

They have sections at the end of the show where they'll have an artist draw a specific character, it's different every time, I have a knack for that and for some reason I remember it?? Maybe I accidentally caught it one day or I'm confusing it for something else because I'm pretty sure I never saw the actual show but it's only after some episodes from what I can see. I think I remember Avatar doing something similar, I guess great shows think alike.

Here’s a link if interested: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3PPMgBU_GmU

Virgil's mother is gone, they make that apparent pretty much from the get-go so no spoilage here but I like the way they make his sister pick up where she left off. Like there's a running occurrence where she'll make a meal for the family and Virgil will make fun of it and say something like "Runny...just the way I like them..." about his eggs, it's like she's doing this stuff to fill the gap and failing but she's making the effort and that's all that counts, for as much or little as we see her, this is a nice little additive to her overall character. As for his mother though, I like that they go all in and make that a running theme, sometimes having full episodes commemorating her.

There are some special guests too. I won't say any more on that though, I'll let it be a surprise if you decide to watch it because the crossover episodes are hands down some of the best I've seen and another reason I started this series.

I got about halfway through the series and I was like "Oh yeah, what about Frida?" She appears in the very first episode and she seems like a main character, then Daisy enters the scene a little later but Frida's kind of been pushed back to the background, used only when the plot finds her convenient, so we don't really get a whole lot of character from her. I guess that's representative to the series as a whole because what I got was a lot different than what I expected from those first few episodes.

In season 3, they change up the intro, it kind of fits the times, the original one sounded kind of 90's, the second one sounds very early 2000s, I suppose it fits the flow. We still get the original theme during Static's bigger moments, but they do that for all the seasons. What's funny to me is that if you read the Wikipedia page, it says they wanted something fast paced with "DMX-type vocals", ha! As if. I will say that some of the OST overall has a few really good tracks, but unfortunately I haven't found a way to find them on their own, separated from the show. I know most of them only last a short time but other DC shows still have the OST released despite being fairly short or only being in a specific episode. That's not the only thing that changes, he has a second design, which I personally have become accustomed to the white shirt over black but it is what it is, his costume was literally just street clothes in Young Justice and I was surprisingly okay with that so whatever suit is fine. The second one is meant to show that he's growing and it definitely seems that way with the sleeker design and more black added but what I really like about it is that he takes the jacket off sometimes and the Static shirt is just a sleeveless black shirt, it just adds more variety in my opinion. Daisy's overall design changed too for whatever reason and Frida's changed a tiny bit, her's is a little harder to notice.

For some reason in the middle of the season, in the episode "Consequences" and "Trouble Squared", he changes back to his old suit (I mean he could have just had the old suit lying around and decided to use it for old times sake) but it seems like that episode was made before S3 started or something else because Daisy has her old design as well. It also shows that he has a FULL white mask, not just the eye mask, like a part that goes over his head, I'm not sure if that's supposed to be where his hood is or what but he takes it out of his backpack separated from his hoodie. It might've been just a miscolor though. He has electric as his power (obviously) but they use it in pretty creative ways, the most outlandish and kind of dumb one though is that they basically have him use Photoshop.

You can also argue that he makes the computer a touch screen.

Now Season 4's first episode is really pretty cool, reminds me of something out of Ben 10 but without spoiling it, there's a part in an earlier season where Static asks where a certain character is and they respond by alluding to a DC reference, however we see that character again in the season 4 opener so the timeline doesn't fit, there are a few other inconsistencies but that's the one I'll mention.

Season 4 also seems to have a return for a lot of different characters almost like a sequel to those episodes. Those are hit or miss, some do well while others don't. It's easily my least favorite of the seasons. It's not bad or anything, it has some really good episodes but the good to bad episode ratio is just more than the other seasons, I must have been spoiled by the consistent number of good episodes.

This may be the realest animated tv series I've ever seen and it's about SUPERHEROES! The way they manage that is unbelievable. I hope we see more of this character, somewhere, anywhere because he’s been given the backseat in pretty much everything, even the comics, he’s been absent from those for quite a while, I feel like now is an excellent time to bring him back, I mean look at the current position we’re in.

The last retrospective I did was American Dragon, there are a few things that I can compare between the two endings but does this one seem definitive? Well in a way, yes, it seems like a very good last episode but doesn’t end everything off in such a way that there wouldn’t be room for one more season. I have a feeling they knew it was the last episode given the way they sort of built it up here and there. The cancellation, however, was caused by the lack of toy sales, not lack of views, however I can’t say I’ve really seen any merchandise from the show.

Seems like there were some dinky Subway toys and a GBA game...

#static shock #dc #retrospective #review

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pynkhues · 5 years

Note

I’m just here to say I love all of your fic and ask what might be your next update? 🙂

Thank you so much! I’m hoping to get at least one thing up by the end of this week? My office is shutting down tomorrow for the quarantine - so that day will be busy, but the rest of the week should be pretty quiet, hopefully giving me lots of time to write.

My head’s been totally consumed with this s3 fic though right now where Beth and Rio do a job together and then bone in his new car, haha, so that’ll probably be the thing that goes up? (Although I’m aiming for the last part of the porn!AU soon too).

Anyway, I know I posted a bit of this earlier in the week, but if you like, you can have the full first scene of the s3 fic!

I hope you like it!

Weird thingis, the place smells like her.

He’d thoughtit the first time he’d stepped through the door, the counterfeit note uncurlinglike a promise in his pocket; the ugly-ass white curtains that looked straightoutta his abuela’s house already drawn.

He can’teven really explain what the smell is, wouldn’t know how to describe itif somebody asked – something a little too sweet, but it ain’t like perfume,ain’t like fresh baked cookies or pie or nothin’ neither, and it ain’t quitelike a flower, not that he makes a habit of going around smelling the roses andwhatnot, but he’s got sisters, and Rhea used to love getting them back when sheused to love him.

Nah, itain’t anything so easy to pin down – not that anything with Elizabeth ever hasbeen.

Back before- - well, just before, he used to think maybe it was some lotion orshampoo or something. Didn’t smell like a flower because it must have been someflower imitation, essence of whatever, something smelled once by somebody forreal and then broken down in a lab in an effort to recreate it. A bottled upmemory, some Frankenstein’d recreation of something that smelt good to somebodyonce.

Somethingnot cheap, but inexpensive, probably picked up at the drug store whileshe bought up toothpaste and diapers, toilet paper and aspirin, somethingslathered on her skin after her shower but before bed, something that’d she’dsoak in overnight, but still - -

Somethingjust on her skin.

Because thething is, now he knows that ain’t it. Knows it, because she tastes like it too.

Fuck, knowsexactly how deep inside her that taste goes.

Knows itstarts on the inside, whatever it is.

Remembers ittoo-sweet on his tongue for days after she kicked him out of her bed.

And shit, itain’t something he’s had any time recent, but still – the smell in the airdon’t just hit his nose right now, it coats his teeth.

The fact ofit all is enough to make him drum his fingers on the counter, right beside thecash registers, enough to make his jaw rock, impatient, as he watches Elizabethhelp a customer pick out a card, her movements stiff since the moment she sawhim walk in, and on anyone else that would feel like a win, but on her he knowsit ain’t one. Ain’t fear or discomfort but anger, simmering just beneath herskin.

Enough of itapparently to make her take her time, draw it out, leave him waiting longer,and he’s of half a mind to go over and get her fussin’ and flusterin’, when thecustomer finally decides on which bit of folded cardboard she wants to go with thebox of decorative plates in her hand and asks and you gift wrap, right?

And it’salmost impressive, how Elizabeth can cross the store swapping small talk withthis twenty-something (who’s all fuckin’ pep and Invisalign braces), can feel hiseyes on her, must know he’s practically draped across the counter, and not somuch as glance at him.

“Do youthink the gold wrapping paper is too much?” the girl trills. “I don’t want itto look like I’m trying too hard.”

“No suchthing when it comes to presentation,” Elizabeth replies, and he knows her wellenough to know her voice is a little tight, just because he knows what itsounds like when it ain’t, and he smiles at her, sharkish, as she rounds the counter,until all that’s left between them is the wooden frame of the thing.

She rings upthe sale while the girl natters about somethin’ or other, the ancient littlemachine beneath them all choking out a receipt as Elizabeth starts grabbingtogether wrapping paper and ribbons of gauzy tulle and metallic bands thatcatch the light and blink gold. It’s tacky as fuck, but the thing is, he kindalikes watching her work with her hands. Likes it when she’s workin’ that printer,slicing his money, likes it when she’s fiddling and fussing and straighteningthings out, reminds him of them on his - -

Nuh.

Not that.

He pushes hisarm a little harder against the counter edge, not enough that she’ll notice,and sucks on his teeth, but shit, there’s that taste again, and he should lookaway, should stop watching her pale hands fumble with the handle of some bigass craft scissors, her narrow fingers small there – thinner than the blades,and just - - something in him twitches.

The customer’scell pings, and it’s enough to make him glance over, just in time to see thegirl quickly look away from him, and huh, he thinks, tilting his body away fromElizabeth and towards the girl instead. It’s almost too easy, to take her in,all frizzy, mouse-brown hair and bright green eyes, pink cheeks. She looks alittle curious, a little embarrassed, and he softens out a grin, nodding hishead towards the card in her hands.

“Birthday?”he guesses, and she blinks, surprised, before flushing a little.

“Engagementparty,” she replies, and Rio taps his knuckles down on the counter, all damn,so close, feeling something in him sharpen in satisfaction, when he feelsElizabeth’s gaze finally dart over to him.

“I don’teven want to go,” the girl adds, rolling her eyes in quasi amusement. “I justwork with her, but the whole office is going, so it’s like, become this bigdeal.”

Rio hums incommiseration.

“Things wedo for work, huh?”

And shit,ain’t that why he’s here tonight? Briefly, his thoughts tangle with theprospect of what he’s got to do, annoyance flaring with even the prospect ofthis fucking thing, but it’s stifled when the girl looks at him in surprise.

“Do you workhere too?” she asks, voice all loaded up with curiosity, and Rio grins, swayinga little as Elizabeth turns on the spot to grab one of the ribbons behind her,spin back, make jerky, awkward work of tying the bow.

“Somethin’like that.”

Behind him,the metallic schink of the scissors on the ribbon sounds louder in hisear, the force of the cut harsher than it needs to be, and Rio grins before hecan help it, just real fuckin’ delighted at the thought. Pissin’ her off - - itain’t like anything else.

“Do I get toask now?”

Rio blinks,pops an eyebrow as the girl flushes a little beneath the boldness of her ownquestion, and it reminds him of Elizabeth way back when, blinking those bambieyes of hers beneath the Cloud 9 store fluorescents. When that desperate edgeto her hadn’t been quite so shadowed, and huh, he tilts back towards the girl,softens his smile, waves a hand out like be my guest.

She sways onthe spot, pink in delight, bites her lip, and beside them, the wrapping papercrinkles roughly as Elizabeth’s pale hands tie bows.

“I’m goingto go with owner, I think.”

Rio laughs,twisting his head to find Elizabeth staring at him, unimpressed, before he swingseasily back to the girl.

“Got it inone, sweetheart.”

It’s enoughto make her flush all over, pleased, and Elizabeth to pick up the pace on hergift wrapping, finally finishing it and thrusting it into a bag, passing it on overas the girl starts rambling about a prize, and she’s talkin’ to him, but he don’treally care anymore. Not now that Elizabeth’s rounding the counter anddirecting the girl to the exit.

She don’twanna go, not right away. She lingers, staring at him, and he just keepssmiling wanly at her, nodding, and shit, it takes her forever to get the hint,finally scurrying out of the store. The door’s barely even closed before Elizabeth’sflipping the lock, the open sign to closed, and then she’s spinning abruptly toface him, her cheeks flushed and her chest heaving.

“You can’tcome here when we’re open,” she tells him, and Rio pops an eyebrow at her,briefly amused, when she adds: “You draw attention.”

He curves sidewaysat that, further draping over the counter, drops his elbow to it, then his chinto his hand.

“Yeah? Howyou think I do that?”

And he can’tquite swallow the grin at the way she glares at him, striding over to that bigtable full of trinkets and shit in the middle of the store, and just startsfiddling in that way she does now. Like she needs something to do with herhands, and he lets her, moving a little forwards until he’s leaning backagainst the counter instead of beside it, eyeing her off. She ain’t dressedexactly how he wants her – in some dark wash mama jeans and some pale pinkblouse, dotted with flowers. Boots with a short, thick heel.

A sweaterwoulda been better, but this’ll do

“The pulp’sdrying,” she sniffs suddenly, eyes darting to him then away again. “So ifyou’re wanting - -”

But Rio justwaves a hand at her.

“Nah, yougonna call your sister and your lady friend. They can finish that tonight. Youand me got a job.”

It’s enoughto make her pause. To make her look up at him, her eyes wide, then narrowed,and shit, it’s that smell again, curling at his nose. He swallows, looksbriefly away, and when he looks back, Elizabeth’s still staring at him, thistime with something different on her face too – and it takes him a moment torealise that she’d taken him looking away as a win. He pushes off the counter,steps forwards quickly, just to see her jump.

“What’s thejob?” she asks, trying to cover it, and Rio hums, moving past her to grab one ofthe little baggies of hard candy, twisting it over to half read the ingredientswhile he speaks.

“Need topick something up,” he says. Sugar and peppermint oil and water, that’s allthat’s in them. Vaguely he wonders if she’s made candies like this. Probably. Forbirthday parties and PTA mixers, to sell - too sweet - at fundraisers. He feelsher shift beside him more than he sees it, her hands stilling on a huddle ofpom pom keychains.

“Why do youneed me for that?”

“Don’t needyou,” he tells her flippant, tossing the bag of candy back down onto thedisplay, just to make her jaw square. “Just think your vibe gonna hit thiscrowd better.”

“What‘vibe’?”

And shit, hedoes look at her at that, arching an eyebrow, gaze flicking down her body, staringpointedly at her floral blouse and her mama jeans, not letting his gaze drag,because it ain’t about that - - can’t be about that, but then there’sthat smell again, and fuck, he thinks, tearing his gaze back to meet her own.

“You reallywant me to answer that?”

She rollsher eyes, shifts her weight, opens her mouth to say something, probably aboutneeding information or some sort of schedule or whatever other bullshit he ain’tgot time for, and he waits until he can see the word on the tip of her tongue,before he cuts her off.

“Finish lockin’up, call your girls. Want you in my car in five minutes, yeah?”

And withthat, he pivots, striding out of the store and back into the afternoon light.

#my fic #welcome to my ama #Anonymous

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fallen-imagine-angel · 5 years

Text

Noticed - Steve Harrington x Reader

Notes: Hey guys! This is the first Steve fic that was requested. The others are in the works right now! I hope you enjoy and keep sending in Steve requests because I love him so much. Thanks!

Summary: Since Nancy just broke up with Steve, he doesn’t notice you that much. But what happens when you’re stuck fighting monsters together and he’s forced to notice you?

Noticed

Steve Harrington x Reader

Requested?: Yes, by @wishing-wanting - “Omg a steve x reader where they got grouped together and fought together in S2 but he was too stuck on Nancy to notice her even though since he saved her she’s had a crush on him and he just doesn’t want to admit his feelings because he doesn’t want to get hurt again and it takes the reader getting hurt or almost really hurt by the Russians or Mind Flayer for him to realize how much he loves/ likes her and yea lmao idk I finished S3 and I forgot how much I love Steve”

Word Count: 3,340

Warnings: ST3 SPOILERS!, descriptions of fighting, some sexual harassment comments from Billy (sorry), descriptions of syringe & getting a shot.

You don’t know how you got roped into this. You’re Nancy’s best friend and that’s how it all started.

You were with her while she dated Steve, you were with her when she broke up with Steve, you were with her when she got with Jonathan. Even though you didn’t agree that she should have broken up with Steve because he was nothing but caring for her, you said nothing.

And even though they broke up, he still only cares about Nancy.

Above all, though, you’ve been there through the Demogorgon and beyond.

“You should go with him,” Steve tells Nancy as you all pick up heaters to burn a monster out of Will’s body. Crazily enough, it’s not the weirdest thing that has happened to you recently.

“What?” She asks, looking to you for answers. You shrug, knowing that this conversation is no business of yours, yet Steve chooses to speak about it in front of you. Probably because he barely notices you’re here.

“With Jonathan.” He elaborates.

“No, I’m- I’m not just going to leave Mike. And (Y/n).” Nancy shakes her head, grabbing a heater. You go to interject that you’ll be fine, but Steve beats you to the punch.

“No one’s leaving anyone. I may be a terrible boyfriend but it turns out I’m a dang good babysitter.” Steve helps her with a large heater, giving her a small smile. She takes the heater he hands to her.

“Yeah, and I’m no one.” You mumble, rolling your eyes as you grab another heater for yourself. They either don’t hear you or ignore you.

“Steve…” Nancy trails off. You don’t even have to look at her to know she’s giving him those puppy dog eyes that always work too well on him.

“It’s okay, Nance. It’s okay.” He assures her, giving her one last meaningful look before turning around and walking inside.

“I’m sorry you had to be here for that.” Nancy apologizes, frowning at you.

“I’m not sure he even knew I was here.” You grumble, realizing that there are no more heaters.

“He’ll notice you, (Y/n), I’m sure of it. There’s no way he won’t be able to notice you after this. I’m going with Jonathan like he said, so...you’ll be here alone with him. And the kids, of course.” She gives you a small smile.

“What? Nancy, you say that like I have a crush on him. I don’t have a crush on him.” You give her a hard glare.

“Whatever you say, (Y/n).” She laughs despite the situation and goes inside with her heaters. You follow suit. Nancy drives off with Jonathan.

“Is this really necessary?”

“Yes, it is!”

You hear Steve and Dustin bickering in the house so you decide to go in and keep the peace.

By the time you get to the kitchen, all you see is them slamming the fridge door shut.

“What did you just do?” You ask, raising an eyebrow.

“Shoved a Demodog in the freezer.” Steve points at Dustin.

“What? It’s a scientific discovery!” He defends himself. You shrug. An argument breaks out in the next room over. What is it with these kids and arguing all the time?

“That place is swarming with dogs!” Mike argues, his face pinched in anger.

“Demodogs.” Dustin reminds them of his nickname for the beasts. Mike looks over with a ‘seriously?’ look. You don’t blame him, now is not really the time for nicknames to be catching on.

“Listen, dude, if a coach calls a play in a game, the bottom line is that you execute it. Alright?” Steve interrupts, trying to be the bigger person.

“Okay, but first of all, this isn’t some stupid sports game. And second, we’re not even in the game, we’re on the bench.” Mike points out. You hum in agreement.

“He has a fair point.” You nod, siding with Mike.

“Right- so- my point is,” Steve gives you an incredulous look for siding with a child over him, “Right, yeah, we’re on the bench so, uh….there’s nothing we can do.”

You get an idea.

“Wait, that’s not necessarily true. We figured out that the Demodogs have a hive mind, right?” You ask, furrowing your brows. Steve looks over at you, a puzzled look on his face. He doesn’t like where this is going.

“Yeah, we did.” The kids all nod.

“Well, when we were on that bus, they all ran away. They didn’t just run away, though, they got called away.” You remind them, your gears turning for a plan.

“So if we get their attention--” Lucas starts.

“Maybe we can draw them away from the lab.” Max finishes his thought for him. They smile at each other.

Ah, young love.

“Exactly.” You nod.

“Yeah, and then we all die!” Steve yells, looking to you for reassurance. You give him none.

“That’s one point of view.” Dustin shrugs.

“It’s not a point of view it’s a fact.” Steve looks at the boy with a ‘you’re an idiot’ face. You giggle.

“I got it!” Mike runs away. He comes back a moment later.

“What’s up?” You ask.

“All of the tunnels feed into here. Hopper dug a hole into the tunnels so if we go to the hub and set it on fire--”

“No- Yeah, that’s a no.” Steve shakes his head. This time, you agree.

“Oh, heck no. We’re not going to risk our lives by starting an uncontrolled fire to call a bunch of demon dogs--”

“Demodogs.” Dustin reminds you.

“Demodogs to the exact spot that we’re at.” You finish. Steve nods in agreement and fist bumps you. Look at that, Nancy was right. He is noticing you now that she’s gone.

But you don’t have a crush on him. She was wrong about that part.

The kids continue making a plan completely against you and Steve’s wishes.

“Hey, hey, hey!” Steve claps to get their attention.

“This is not happening.” You tell them.

“But-”

“No! No buts! We promised to keep you safe and that is exactly what we are doing.” Steve looks over at you. You nod.

“We’re staying here on the bench and we’re waiting for the, uh, starting team to do their job. Does everybody understand that?” You recall Steve’s earlier basketball reference. He raises his eyebrows and smiles, surprised that you paid attention to him saying that.

“This isn’t some stupid sports game!” Mike groans. You glare at him.

“Does it look like I care, Wheeler? Your sister entrusted me with your specific care. I am her best friend. She will murder me if I let anything happen to you, got it? I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if I let you get hurt. We are not going anywhere.” Your voice is laced with venom.

A car revs its engine outside. Everyone runs to the window.

“It’s my brother. He-- he can’t know I’m here, he’ll kill me. He’ll kill us.” Max gasps.

You and Steve share a knowing look. Before you know it, you’re stepping outside and telling the kids to hide.

Billy pulls up and steps out of his car, an unpleasant look on his face.

“Am I dreaming, or is that Harrington and (Y/l/n)?” Billy smirks, winking at you. You roll your eyes.

“Yeah, it’s us, Billy. What do you want?” You growl.

“I’m looking for my step-sister. A little birdie told me she was here.” He puts a cigarette to his lips.

“Huh, that’s weird. I don’t know her.” Steve crosses his arms. You put a hand on your hip.

“Small, redhead...nothing?” Billy looks over at you.

“Doesn’t ring a bell. Why don’t you leave?” You give him a tight-lipped smile.

“This whole situation is weird. Why are you two lying to me?” He takes out the cigarette and blows a face full of smoke at you. You suffer through the smoke and after it’s gone, let out a cough right back in his face. He smirks.

“She’s not here.” Steve narrows his eyes at Billy.

“Then who is that?” Billy whispers, pointing his cigarette at the window. You and Steve turn to see the kids looking out the window, ducking when they see you turn around.

“Crap.” You whisper. Billy shoves Steve to the ground and walks to the house, slamming open the door. You hurriedly help Steve up and the two of you run in behind him.

“You’re so dead, Sinclair!” You hear Billy yell from the kitchen. Steve runs over and pulls Billy off of Lucas, turning him around.

“No, you are.” Steve punches Billy in the jaw. You gasp, seeing him rub his knuckles after the impact.

Billy laughs and says something about King Steve, but you’re too worried to care.

“Steve, just get him out of here!” You yell, going to back him up. He stops you.

“No, stop, don’t get involved in this.” He pleads, giving you his puppy dog eyes. You guess Steve’s not the only one who’s a sucker for the puppy eyes.

“Okay.” You whisper, staying back in front of the kids to protect them. Billy swings at Steve but Steve ducks, hitting him again.

“Yes!” Dustin calls from behind you. The kids start to cheer Steve on but you’re left petrified as Billy smashes a plate over Steve’s head.

“Steve!” You yell, stepping forward to help. He shakes his head. You watch as the fight ensues with Billy beating Steve to a pulp. After a moment, you know Steve isn’t going to get back up, so you decide to intervene. You grab Billy by the shirt and rip him off of Steve, shoving him to the ground. The lower half of his shirt comes unbuttoned during this.

“You just really wanted me to get my shirt off, huh?” Billy smirks, looking up at you.

“In your dreams.” You kick him in the ribs over and over again with all of your might. It seems to be hurting him because he doesn’t get back up. Eventually, he rolls over.

“Who knew (Y/n) had such a fight in her. I wonder what you’d be like in be--”

Before Billy can finish his sentence, you grab a fistful of his hair and start slamming his face onto the floorboards. After a moment, he grabs your ankle and pulls it out from under you, making you fall to the floor. He climbs on top of you and pins your wrists down above you, knees on either side of your torso.

“Get off of me!” You spit in his face. He chuckles darkly.

“Make me.” He whispers, leaning into your face. You writhe underneath him, struggling to break free.

“Leave (Y/n) alone!” You hear Steve yell before Billy is tackled off of you and on the ground again. You bolt upright and scramble away from them, watching them fight for dominance again.

You won’t lie to yourself, it was kind of hot seeing Steve stand up for you like that.

You run to the kitchen and grab a pan, running back to the room where Billy is beating Steve again. You wind back your arm and swing the pan at the back of Billy’s head. He falls off of Steve, out cold. You see an unconscious Steve below him.

Max grabs the keys from Billy’s pocket.

“Let’s get out of here.” She gives them to you.

You start to drive, completely abandoning your hope of rationalizing and getting the kids to stay home.

You get to the tunnels and park the car, getting out as Steve starts to wake up. He stumbles out.

“This isn’t okay. I thought we agreed not to do this?” Steve asks you. You sigh.

“I gave up. The kids are persuasive.” You shrug, putting on your goggles and neck bandana.

“It’s our duty to provide assistance. I know you promised Nancy that you would keep us safe, Steve, so keep us safe.” Dustin shoves the bat at Steve. He rolls his eyes and takes it.

“I told you they’re persuasive.” You smile, walking to the hole and jumping down first.

Everyone else jumps down once you’ve given them the all-clear.

“From here on out, I’m leading the way,” Steve calls to the group.

“We’re leading the way.” You correct him.

“We’re leading the way,” Steve repeats, including you this time. You smile to yourself. Luckily, he can’t see it behind your mask.

You all go through the tunnels and find the main hub. You start putting down gasoline all over the walls and floors.

Steve drops the lighter and the place goes up in flames. You immediately pull Steve back to his feet and start running.

You all make it to the opening again. You and Steve start boosting the kids up to the hole one by one until it’s only you two and Dustin left.

“Dustin.” You and Steve get down to give Dustin a boost. Then you hear the Demodogs

“Crap! Go, go, go!” You boost Dustin up then grab your gasoline and lighter to fight. Steve readies his bat.

“Get behind me.” Steve moves slightly in front of you. You would blush but now is not the time.

The dogs race down the tunnel, coming at you with full speed. You’re about to light them up when they all start running past you.

“Wha--” Before you can say anything, Steve pulls you to his chest to keep from getting separated by the Demodogs. You hold him close until the Demodogs are all gone.

Okay, maybe you do have a small crush on Steve Harrington.

Steve helps you up first then you help him out. You breathe a sigh of relief. Things are working out.

And work out, they did indeed. Eleven closed the gate and that was the end of it.

Or so you thought.

Here you are, a year later, working at Scoops Ahoy with Steve when the third round of things start happening. First, you team up with Steve, Dustin, Robin, and Erica. Next, you find an elevator that leads to a secret Russian base that is trying to open the gate to the upside down again. Third, you get caught in that secret Russian base. Well, you and Steve did. The rest went to go find help.

“Who do you work for?” The Russian leader asks you, his eyes dark with anger.

“I work at Scoops Ahoy in the mall, dude. I’ve told you this already!” You whine, licking your swollen lip. There is a sharp pain in your jaw and realize that the man has punched you in the face. Again.

“How did you get in?” He asks.

“It was an accident! Your security kinda sucks, not gonna lie.” You groan, getting punched in the face again. That one is gonna leave a black eye.

“Take her to the other room.” The man growls. You get picked up and dragged against your will to a room where Steve is already sitting in the center strapped to a chair.

“Steve!” You gasp. His head shoots up at your voice, relief clear on his face. Although you can’t see much of his face with how bruised and bloody it is.

“(Y/n).” He breathes out as you’re strapped to the chair behind him. He grabs your hands through the restraints and you squeeze it to let him know you’re okay.

“Let’s see if these get you talking.” The Russian man comes toward you with a large syringe.

“Don’t you dare hurt her!” Steve yells, struggling against his bonds. You squeeze his hand tighter as you’re both injected with whatever is in the syringes.

You feel no different as the Russian pulls the needle out and steps out of the room.

“Hey, (Y/n)?” Steve asks after a moment.

“Hm?” You hum, the room starting to spin.

“Do you feel any different?” He asks. You can hear the smile on his face.

“No.” You giggle, squeezing his hand.

“Your hand is soft.” He thinks out loud, rubbing his thumb over your palm. You blush at his words.

“So are yours.” You compliment him back, a goofy smile growing on your face.

“I can imagine the smile on your face right now,” He tries to look back at you but is unsuccessful.

“Oh yeah? What does it look like?” You muse.

“I dunno, it’s like a lopsided grin that’s too genuine to stop from happening. It’s adorable, much like the rest of you. I love your smile.” He admits, resting the back of his head on your shoulder. You giggle and blush again. He called you adorable.

“Stevie, you’re going soft.” You rest your head on top of his. He nudges you.

“Am not. Don’t laugh at me.” He chuckles.

“You totally are--” Before you can finish, the Russian men barge back into the room.

“Time’s up.” They grunt and your head snaps away from Steve’s.

“Who do you work for?” He asks you.

“...Scoops Ahoy.” You giggle. The man sighs.

“Still lying. Ask the boy?” Your Russian guy tells the other Russian guy. You try your best to look at Steve as he stutters.

“I’m telling you, man, we got here on accident.” He laughs, doubling over at the hilarity of the situation.

“Fine. If you won’t confess, then we have no other choice. Kill the girl.” The man in charge commands. The guy questioning Steve grabs a gun.

“They’re gonna kill me.” You giggle.

“I know! It’s-- wait, what?” This seems to sober up Steve for now.

The Russian cocks the gun and aims it at your head. You laugh.

“Bye-bye!” You shut your eyes and wait.

“Wait, no! Stop! I’ll-- I came here with a buddy,” Steve hiccups, still a bit delirious. You crack open your eyes.

“Name?” The man lowers the gun.

“Umm- uh, Dustin. Henderson.” Steve tells the man. Just then, the alarm goes off. The Russian men look at each other before running out to check on the situation. A moment later, Dustin, Erica, and Robin walk in.

“There you guys are!” Robin gasps and the three start to untie you and Steve.

“Oh, hey buddy! I was just talking about you!” Steve grins at Dustin. Dustin gives him a weird look.

“Time to go, nerds.” Erica snaps once the restraints are loose. You get up and turn to Steve, hugging him tightly. He wraps his arms around you and pulls you close to him.

“I thought I was going to lose you.” He seems to be sober for a second.

“You can’t lose me, silly.” You grin and peck his cheek. He blushes.

“Hey, can I tell you something?” He smiles goofily.

“Hm?” You ask, arms still looped around his neck.

“I’ve been in love with you for a while now.” He confesses, resting his forehead against yours. Your noses brush.

“Wait, seriously?” The shock rushes any clouded judgment from your mind.

“Yeah, seriously.” Steve seems to render what he said, sobriety pulling him to reality.

“I-I...I thought you liked Robin.” You gasp, staring deep into his eyes.

“I’m a lesbian.” Robin clears her throat, keeping her eyes trained on the door in case people figure out what’s happening.

“We should go. I’m sorry for--” Before Steve can finish, you’re pressing your lips against his. He kisses back after a moment, pulling you back to his chest.

“I’ve loved you ever since we almost died in that tunnel together. Maybe a bit before, when I saved you from Billy.” He admits, pressing another soft kiss to your lips.

“Funny, I was about to say the same thing.” You grin at him, pecking his lips one last time.

“Can you two please get on with it? I don’t want to die in here!” Erica complains. You and Steve break apart, holding hands still.

“Let’s get out of here. We have a lot of lost time to make up for.” Steve grins at you.

“I’ll say.” You giggle.

“Come on!” Erica tugs you guys out of the room.

Maybe, if you live through this, you’ll have a normal college career with the love of your life.

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aubrey-plaza · 5 years

Note

I've seen a lot of fic rec lists lately given everything happening. Do you have any recommendations to get us through the lock down? p.s. I love everything you write.

omg thanks anon!!

I know these are scary times so have here a quick and dirty list of my fave fics starting with Staubrey and then just... veering offcourse. They’re all femslash except the one I marked with an asterisk but yeah.

as always, I’m not gonna rec my own fics on my this list bc that’s cheating but if you wanna read them pls click this link and that ends the self promo for today lmao

recs under the cut!

Stacie x Aubrey

Snowbound

by ACamp_toner / @stepintotherevolve (22.171, complete, rated E)

summary: The Bellas go on a ski trip and Staubrey happens

notes: this has amazing smut and features just enough jealousy to spark these two idiots into a meaningful talk. there’s also side bechloe and a healthy dose of humour.

The Howl

by @tiny-maus-boots (30.739, wip/currently being written, AU)

summary: Stacie's pack is forcing her into a corner but Fate has other plans for her - if she doesn't die first.

notes: werewolf!Stacie and vampire!Aubrey who meet on a full moon and fuck. there’s more to it and a great backstory that’s being wonderfully developed (trust me, I’ve been told of the plans and I’m ri-ve-ted). also has some amazing soft moments and a fab spark of heat.

Prelude in Lydian Mode

by knappster / @ss-staubrey (5972, complete)

summary: Remember tonight... for it is the beginning of always.

notes: I will rec this fic til the day I die. It’s such a lovely brand of staubrey and a perfect example of the idiots to lovers trope.

and the songbirds are singing (like they know the score)

by angelranger (2326, complete)

summary: It came as a slight surprise to Stacie that Aubrey, the same Aubrey who had grown up in a strict and dysfunctional household, was just so good with her daughter.

Bella seemed to unearth a side of Aubrey that was just so unbelievably soft, a side Stacie is almost positive even Aubrey didn’t know existed. But there she is, sat on the carpeted floor in front of the coffee table, sat right next to Bella, drawing outlines for the four year old to colour in.

notes: oh god i love a good, soft bella fic and this one hits all the right notes. it’s sweet and lovely and features singing Bella to sleep which is like. my weakness. go leave some more love on this deserved fic!

Sansa x Margaery

The Crackpots and These Women

by Netgirl_y2k (8089, complete, WEST WING AU)

summary: "You're in charge of press relations," Yara told Margaery, gesturing to Sansa. "Relate.”

summary: yeah you read that fuckin right that’s a West Wing AU. My love for this mashup has no bounds. It’s so perfectly coy, the way I imagine adult Sansa and Margaery would be, combined with the hopeful tinge of WW, and the pining of a somewhat open ended yet hopeful finish. If you like either of these universes, read this.

Kind Regards

by MsCFH / @hell-much (9835, complete, explicit, part of a series!)

summary: Margaery Tyrell is determined on setting foot in the Northern market of Westeros by establishing a collaboration between the Tyrell Corporation and Stark Incorporated.

The only problem? The likewise gorgeous and stubborn Deputy Managing Director Sansa Stark.

summary: holy hell this fic is amazing. they hate each other SO MUCH. the author has a vibe setting skill that makes me want to weep. the smut is off the charts hot like there are literally no words. go read it and then read the series bc it’s *that good*. please go get your church lady fan before reading because you WILL need it.

EXTRA NOTE: same author is writing a post-s6 canon compliant fic where Marg is actually still alive and if you’re looking for a full weekend activity, go ahead and binge this one (it’s a wip but is still being updated)

lay all your love on me

by 1once (9498, complete, show-compliant)

summary: It has been eight years since her demise.

But for the world of her, she cannot figure out why. For what? Why was she alive?

notes: i will say just one thing: flower. magic. okay, i’ll say more things. this fic is the redemption show!marg deserved combined with the fun supernatural magicky aspect of flower magic that’s just so in character. reading this fic feels the way a warm cup of tea in your hands on a cold winter’s day does.

til you come back home

by heart_nouveau (7978, complete, AU - modern setting)

summary: “Using one-night stands to distract myself from my crush on my roommate counts, right?”

Margaery Tyrell is an ambitious law student who needs a perfect grade point average if she wants to stay at the top of her class - and she is not going to throw that away by falling for her very attractive, very sweet roommate, one Sansa Stark.

notes: margaery is a moron with feelings aka my favourite type of character.

Birds of Prey’s Dinah x Helena

Siren Call

by ThanksForListening (3300, complete, part 2 of a series)

summary: "It always happened in the quiet moments. The early hours of the morning, when the leftover energy from a mission hadn’t quite disappeared yet. The sleepless nights, when memories clawed their way into her mind and wouldn’t let go until her screams released them. The lazy afternoons, when the radio played softly and melodies she’d almost forgotten danced around her lips. It was only when the world went still that Dinah felt her watching.

She didn’t remember the first time she noticed it. The staring. Maybe it was because Helena was always watching everything and everyone around them that Dinah didn’t realize how frequently that attention fell on her. How it felt different. Helena looked at the world with suspicion and anger and indifference, but not her. She looked at her with something much softer, something she hadn’t found a name for just yet. No word in her arsenal was deep enough or strong enough to describe it.

Whatever it was, she could feel it now.”

notes: gahhhhh this fic. “What do you see,” she finally asked, “when you look at me?” is a line that I’m gonna think about until the day I die. this is the second fic in a series and you can read it as a standalone but the first fic is also fuckin amazing

after the afterparty

by novoaa1 (1181, complete, set right after the movie ends)

summary: The Canary had let loose a delighted snort at that, as if she found the whole thing somehow laughable.

(Which it wasn’t, to be clear—laughable, that is.)

“Are y'all seeing this shit?” she’d turned to ask the rest of them, earning a giddy squeal from Harley and a bemused scoff from Montoya even whilst Helena remained stock still in place, dutifully blinding herself with one hand. “Absolutely adorable.”

“Shut up,” Helena had hissed back more out of instinct than anything else, though her tone was markedly devoid of any real anger.

(And if Helena had felt her cheeks flush ever so slightly beneath her palm at the Canary’s glib assertion, she certainly didn’t let on.)

Or: Sionis falls. The rest of them remain.

notes: just. read it.

knew your love (before i kissed you)

by z0ejake / @zxyjxy (58.263, wip / currently being written, rated E for the last chapter)

summary: Surviving the massacre of your entire family at the age of eight is a pretty impressive feat. Training for fifteen years in Sicily until you can kill a man with one hand and a hairpin is also a pretty impressive feat. Returning to the city where your family was cut down and killing every single person involved in their deaths is maybe the most impressive feat. Somehow, it's never been enough for Helena.

notes: bro this fic is a masterpiece and zoe is a genius. features absolute moron feral dumb jock helena and my favourite version of dinah: patient and endeared and a little teasing.

the war is over (and we are beginning)

by ace_verity (12.573, 5/5, complete)

summary: The thing is, Helena has no idea what comes after.

The past fifteen years, she’s had a singular goal. She's never given any thought to what she’d do once she killed the men who murdered her family in front of her.

Maybe, Helena realizes, she never actually thought she’d make it this far.

—

In which Helena Bertinelli joins a team, buys a cactus, beats up criminals, goes to church, bakes bread, and falls in love.

(Not necessarily in that order.)

notes: this fic is beautiful and perfectly explores a lost Helena. I also love the way Renee is written in this and the whole vibe of the story is just *chefs kiss*

cheap shampoo

by OfElvesAndAliens (1609, complete)

summary: The thing is, Helena is a rigidly focused kind of gal, iron rage forged into skilled precision. Dinah has also noticed it in the little things, like the way she frowns a bit when she's doing something as trivial as writing, her penmanship always neat and firm. That same tiny furrow of her brow is showing up again while she's methodically whisking some eggs in a bowl.

Dinah finds it cute. Fucking sue her.

notes: oh god but i love a bedsharing fic and this one? feeding and post-mission and just winding down together??? ohhhh my god

two extra random goodies just for fun:

Lamplighter

by the_years_between_us (116.915, wip, rated E)

show/ship: The Fall, Stella Gibson/Reed Smith

summary: Stella gets a call from Reed directly following the final episode of The Fall S3.

notes: this is one of only a handful of wips that I’m keeping up with and reading constantly. It’s written like goddamn poetry and I love an older ship with more baggage, because the emotions here run so much higher with their shared history and the tentative steps they’re trying to take. Also, given the source material, this is almost cathartic to read.

Nothing to Lose*

by tielan (8013, complete, rated E)

fandom/ship: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Maria Hill/Steve Rogers

summary: “It’s one of the traditional rituals of manhood,” Natasha observes as they’re sparring. “Kill a man, fuck a woman.”

notes: listen. i know. okay? i know this seems like a crackship. but I love it SO MUCH and this author writes so well that I’ve been fully converted. ~something some of you have told me I do for you~ so go read this fic, and then read the others, and then fall in love and join me in this lonely ship. You won’t regret it.

I’ll be writing while in isolation so if you have any Dinah/Helena or Stacie/Aubrey prompts, shoot ‘em my way!

and also hit me up for anything, as always.

peace and love, and stay safe everybody!

#fic rec #shoutout to anybody I may have missed bc I wrote this in a hurry <3 #anonymous #anon #ask

20 notes · View notes

kawaiikichi · 5 years

Text

The Words “I Love You” (BKDK)

Hello, you guys! I have come with another one-shot for BKDK! This one is a little longer than the rest that I’ve done up to this point and is based off the 5 + 1 Things (I’m late to the party, I know). It’s five instances where Izuku tells Katsuki he loves him and the one time Katsuki says it back.

I hope you guys like it! :D

Title: The Words “I Love You”

Summary: A 5 + 1 Things documenting the five times Izuku told Katsuki “I love you” and the one time Katsuki said it back.

One-Shot Notes: Everything is pretty much the same except it diverges from canon after the Deku vs Kacchan battle in S3; they start dating about two and a half months after the fight; their relationship is a “secret” (everyone knows they’re dating, but they choose not to say anything)

One-shot is under the cut!

Instance #1 - The Dorms (Afternoon)

“Godfucking dammit! I fucking hate cleaning! It fucking sucks!” Katsuki snarled, shaking the broom that Aizawa handed him earlier.

“But somebody’s gotta do it, don’t you think, Kacchan...?” Izuku spoke hesitantly, hoping to assuage his fuming boyfriend.

“Fuck that shit!” Katsuki roared, explosions erupting from his hand as he blew the broom into smithereens.

Izuku let out a horrified shout as he gaped at the remains of the broom that laid before Katsuki.

“Kacchan! We do not make the brooms explode!” he scolded.

“Huh?! What are you, my fucking mom?! Don’t tell me what I can and can’t do, Deku!” Katsuki roared, more explosions erupting from his hand.

“I can do whatever I please, Kacchan! So stop trying to pick fights every chance you get!”

“So you think I’m trying to pick fights, huh...well, I’ll show you what a real fight looks like—”

“Yo, Bakugou! Stop picking fights with Midoriya and get back to work! Here, I even brought you an extra broom!”

Katsuki whirled around to glare daggers at Eijirou, who entered the common area along with Denki.

“Fuck off, Shitty Hair! This is between me and Deku!” he then marched over to Eijirou. “Also, gimme that fucking broom!” he shouted, swiping it out of Eijirou’s hand.

“Alright, alright, bro! Well, Kaminari and I are going to go upstairs for a tutoring session with Yaoyorozu!” Eijirou declared.

“Okay, then! We fucking get it, so go to your goddamn tutoring session before I blast you and Pikachu out of this fucking dorm!” Katsuki snapped.

“Whoa-ho! Chillax, Fireball! We’re going now, alright?” Denki said.

“Huh?! Who the fuck you calling a goddamn Fireball—”

“Kacchan, just let it go!” Izuku wrapped his arms around Katsuki’s torso as he shot looks at Eijirou and Denki. “Kirishima, Kaminari, hurry upstairs while I still have him restrained!” he called out.

“Alright!” Eijirou replied as he and Denki scampered away.

Katsuki let out a growl.

“Goddammit...!” he bit out.

“Kacchan, if you try to struggle any more than you already are, I will literally slam you down onto the floor! You know I will!” Izuku shouted.

“Oh, fucking fine!” Katsuki shouted back in response.

Izuku released Katsuki as the blond released a sigh, reaching up to run a hand through his spiky hair.

“Ugh, those two fucking piss me off sometimes...” he then shot a side glance at Izuku. “Also, sorry for yelling at you. It’s gonna take me a while before I can stop doing that.” he said.

“Oh no, there’s no need for you to apologize, Kacchan! I completely understand!” Izuku nodded at the broom that Katsuki held in his hand. “Let’s just get to cleaning, yeah?” he suggested.

Katsuki glared at the broom in his hand and then at the vacuum that Izuku was holding before sighing.

“Fucking fine...” he grumbled as he proceeded to sweep the rug.

Izuku watched his boyfriend huffily sweep the rug as an idea came to him.

“Hey, Kacchan. I have an idea.” he said.

“Huh? Am idea?” Katsuki answered.

“Yeah! To make cleaning duty a little more fun for you.”

“Okay...I’m listening...”

“So, how about we compete to see who can finish cleaning the fastest? The winner can get the loser to do whatever they want for the rest of the day.” Izuku explained.

“Hm...sounds interesting enough. I’m in.” Katsuki eyed Izuku curiously. “But why do all this? You know, come up with the competition and stuff.” he asked.

“Hm, I wonder...” Izuku made his way over to Katsuki and leaned in so that he could whisper in his ear. “Maybe it’s because I love you and I want my boyfriend to stop being so grumpy?” he replied.

He watched as Katsuki’s cheeks turned pink. He couldn't’ help but giggle.

How cute, he thought to himself.

“Oh, by the way, the competition starts now. Try and catch me if you can.” Izuku said before turning on the vacuum and dashing off with it.

Katsuki blinked, trying to process what just happened. Then, a wide smirk pulled his lips upward.

“Oh, now you’re asking for it, Deku!” he hollered as he took off after Izuku, using his Quirk to help him gain some speed.

Izuku whirled around, his eyes growing wide upon seeing Katsuki using his Quirk.

“Kacchan, wait! You shouldn’t be using your Quirk in here!” he shouted.

“Don’t worry, Deku. I’ll make sure that I don’t damage anything!” Katsuki shouted back.

“That’s not the point here!” Izuku whined.

They came around a corner and raced past Shouto, who was exiting the kitchen with a cup of green tea in his hand.

Shouto could only stare in mild surprise as Katsuki tackled Izuku and the two of them went tumbling to the floor. He watched Katsuki proceed to tickle Izuku, the sounds of high-pitched squeals and pleas for mercy accompanied by the blond’s raucous laughter reaching his ears.

Shouto let out a sigh as he took a sip from his cup.

What a couple of lovebirds.

🧡💚🧡💚

Instance #2 - Training Grounds (Afternoon)

After being told of their one-on-one training battles for today along with drawing lots for who was battling who, everyone went to the locker room to change into their hero costumes.

Izuku pulled his shirt over his head as Eijirou spoke.

“So the first battle will be Bakugou versus Todoroki, huh...that’s gonna be just as intense as when they battled during the school festival.” he commented.

“And this time, you better not hold the fuck back, Half n’ Half Bastard!” explosions erupted from Katsuki’s palms. “Come at me so I can blast you out of the damn arena!” he roared.

“The same goes for you too.” Shouto shot a look at Katsuki. “I’ll try my best to defeat you, as well.” he stated.

“You better fucking mean it!” Katsuki snapped as he began to hurl expletives at Shouto.

Denki shuddered.

“Geez, they’re so intense already...” he released a sigh. “Well, my battle’s against Jirou, so that’ll be interesting.” he said as he threw his jacket on.

“And mines is against Yaoyorozu! Ah, I’m really looking forward to that battle...” Mineta trailed off, drool spilling from the corners of his mouth as his mind began to wander.

“Mineta! Stop it with your filthy fantasies right this instant! We are in a school environment!” Tenya shouted from across the room, moving his hand up and down in his signature chopping motion.

Izuku laughed as he proceeded to put on his hero costume. As he did, he managed to catch a glimpse of Katsuki’s toned chest as he took off his shirt. Izuku swallowed as he watched Katsuki’s muscles flex with each movement he made.

Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god, oh my god, oh my god! Shirtless Kacchan, shirtless Kacchan! I mean, I’ve seen him shirtless countless times already, but now that we’re dating, it’s enough to make my heart flutter, he thought to himself.

He didn’t realize that he was still staring at Katsuki until a familiar voice pulled him back into reality.

“Oi, Deku! The hell are you looking at?!” Katsuki barked out.

“N-Nothing! Nothing at all!” Izuku shouted in response, his cheeks a fiery red as he quickly snapped his gaze away from the blond.

He quickly got dressed and left the locker room before anyone could ask him any questions. As he walked down the hall, he heard a voice call out to him.

“Hey, Deku.”

Izuku let out a small yelp as an arm wrapped itself around his waist and he was pulled into a side embrace, the familiar scent of cinnamon and cologne flooding his senses.

“You see something you like back there?” Katsuki asked.

“H-Huh?! No!” Izuku exclaimed, the tips of his ears burning as Katsuki chuckled.

“Really now? Because I’m pretty sure I saw you staring at me intently as I was changing my clothes.” Katsuki teased, a smug smirk tugging at his lips.

Izuku pouted.

“Kacchan—”

“Deku!”

At that moment, Katsuki withdrew his arm from around Izuku’s waist, shouted “Die!” in a loud voice, and blasted Izuku into the wall. He watched Ochaco gasp out of the corner of his eye.

“Deku!” she raced over to him. “Deku, are you okay?” she asked.

“Y-Yeah, I’m alright.” he replied as she helped him up.

Katsuki let out a “hmph” before whirling around and marching off. Ochaco shot a look at Katsuki’s retreating back.

“Bakugou! Why would you do that—” Izuku cut her off before she could continue.

“Don’t worry about it, Uraraka. I think I went too far with my teasing this time around...” he trailed off.

There’s no way I could tell her that he did it so that he could cover up how close we were just now. If she ever finds out that Kacchan and I are dating, she’ll pass out from the shock, he thought to himself.

“Is that so...” Ochaco trailed off.

“Y-Yeah! Kacchan’ll cool off eventually. We should get going.” Izuku said.

“Yeah!” Ochaco chirped in response.

The two of them made conversation as they headed to the training ground, discussing their upcoming battles with Tsuyu and Aoyama. Eventually, everyone else arrived at the training ground, Aizawa along with some of the other teachers waiting for them.

“Now that everyone is here, we will begin the battles with the first one being Todoroki versus Bakugou. The two of you, make your way up to the battle stage. I’m starting to get sleepy already.” Aizawa grumbled, zipping himself up in his yellow sleeping bag and laying down on the ground.

“Hah! It’s “Blasting Icy-Hot Outta This Fucking Arena” time!” Katsuki roared as he bumped his fist against his palm, creating a small explosion in the process.

As he was about to head onto the stage, Izuku called out to him.

“Wait, Kacchan! I need to say something before you go!” he shouted as he raced over to Katsuki.

“Huh? What is it now, Deku?” Katsuki asked as Izuku approached him.

Izuku motioned for him to lean down so that he could whisper in his ear. Katsuki hesitated for a moment before complying. Izuku cupped his hands around Katsuki’s ear and a part of his cheek before whispering to him.

“Go show Todoroki what you’re made of. I love you, Kacchan.” he said.

He then delivered a quick peck to Katsuki’s cheek before pulling away. He watched Katsuki’s face flush a light red and he had to stop himself from grinning at the sight.

It seems like Kacchan.exe has stopped working, he thought to himself.

“You...You don’t need to tell me twice! I know you fucking do! And I’ll blast that Half n’ Half bastard into smithereens! Just you wait!” Katsuki shouted before marching over to the stage.

Izuku laughed nervously as Ochaco and Tsuyu walked over to him.

“Deku! What did you tell Bakugou?” Ochacho asked.

“I am curious as well, Midoriya. What did you tell him? He seemed pretty flustered, which is rare for him.” Tsuyu commented.

“Oh, that? Nothing much. It’s just...” Izuku watched as Katsuki launched his first attack on Todoroki. “Something to boost his ego a little, maybe?”

🧡💚🧡💚

Instance #3 - Grocery Shopping (Late Afternoon/Early Evening)

“Now, let’s see here...” Katsuki burned holes into the shopping list that Momo handed him when he left the dorm with Izuku earlier today. “We got the cabbage, so let’s go get the fucking soba noodles.” he said.

“Okay!” Izuku chirped as he pushed the cart, following Katsuki around like a puppy would follow its owner.

Katsuki eyed Izuku, silently noting how eager he looked.

Class 1-A decided to draw lots in order to see who would go grocery shopping this time around. Katsuki and Izuku ended up being selected and Momo handed them a list she wrote up before ushering them out of the dorm. As much as Katsuki was annoyed that he got chosen to do the task, he didn’t hate it, either.

Not when Izuku had such a damn adorable look on his face.

They made their way down the noodle aisle and picked up some packets of soba, udon, and somen noodles along with some instant cup ramen. Placing them in the cart, Katsuki checked them off the list.

“Alright, now let’s go get those fucking baking ingredients for Satou and then that green tea Half n’ Half bastard likes. Ponytail said that this store also carries her favorite tea from some place called Harrod’s, so we’ll also go and fucking pick that up—” he stopped, feeling Izuku’s arms wrap around his own.

He stared at Izuku in mild surprise.

“Oi, Deku, just what is it that you’re doing?” he asked.

“Hugging your arm.” Izuku replied.

“I can fucking see that. Why are you doing it, though?”

“This feels nice. You know, the two of us going grocery shopping together. Don’t you think this is nice, Kacchan?”

Katsuki looked over at Izuku and was nearly sucker-punched by the wide, doe-like eyes that Izuku was shooting him.

Fucking shit, I can’t not answer him when he looks at me like that, he thought to himself.

“Yeah...it does feel nice.” he said.

Izuku beamed up at the blond, rubbing his cheek against his arm as Katsuki began to push the cart.

They picked up the ingredients that Satou needed and quickly made a detour to the candy aisle to pick up some sweets that Mina and Tooru said they wanted to try.

As Katsuki put (read: chucked) a package of sakura-themed Kit Kats into the cart, Izuku spotted a large milk chocolate bar. His eyes sparkled in swe as he picked it up.

“Whoa, this is super big...” he looked over at Katsuki. “Hey, Kacchan! Look at what I found!” he called out, waving the chocolate bar around for him to see.

“Huh? What is it?” Katsuki answered as he looked at Izuku, frowning upon seeing the chocolate bar in his hands.

“Fuck no.” he said almost immediately.

“Huh?” Izuku blinked his eyes twice in surprise. “Wha—”

“Fuck no.”

“But—”

“I said. Fuck. No! If it ain’t on the damn list, we ain’t picking it up!”

“But Kacchan—”

“Fuck no means fuuuuuuuck noooooooo! Put it back, Deku.”

“Kacchan—”

“Put it back or else I’ll blast it right out of your hands.”

“But then you’ll have to buy it, anyway.”

“Don’t get smart with me, Deku! Now, put the chocolate bar back where you found it.”

Izuku’s lips curled into a pout.

“Fine...” he mumbled.

He shot Katsuki a dejected look as he turned to put the chocolate bar back. As soon as the bar hit the shelf, Katsuki let out a groan.

“Aaaaaaargh, fine! Fine! Put it in the cart! I’ll buy it for you!” he shouted.

Izuku immediately picked the bar back up and whirled around to face Katsuki, his eyes sparkling with glee.

“Really?!” he exclaimed.

“Yes, really. Now, hurry it up and put it in the cart before I change my fucking mind. Just know that we’re sharing that because there is no way in hell you’ll end up with a gazillion cavities in your teeth—” Izuku tossed the bar into the cart and threw his arms around Katsuki before the blond could finish his sentence.

“Thank you, Kacchan! I love you, I love you, I love yooooooooooooou!” he gushed excitedly.

“Whoa, slow down there!” Katsuki blushed a little. “You do realize that we’re in fucking public, right?” he asked.

“Oh.” Izuku replied, his eyes wide as a boy’s voice reached their ears.

“Mama! Those two guys are holding each other!” he shouted.

“Shhh! Honey, don’t look!” his mother chided.

A bright red blush spread across Izuku’s face as he withdrew from Katsuki.

“Sorry for suddenly hugging you like that...” he murmured.

“Shit, don’t apologize, just...” Katsuki sighed, running a finger through his hair. “Let’s just get the rest of the groceries and get the fuck out of this store.” he said.

Izuku nodded.

“Yeah, let’s do that.” he said.

The two of them exited the candy aisle and they went to get the tea for Momo and Shouto, an awkward silence hanging over them all the while.

🧡💚🧡💚

Instance #4 - The Dorms, Katsuki’s Room (Evening)

Katsuki was seated at his desk, working on his homework when there was a knock at the door. He looked over at the door, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Yes?” he called out.

“Um, Kacchan? It’s me...”

Katsuki felt the tension in his body seep out of him the minute he heard Izuku’s voice on the other side of the door.

Oh, thank god. I can distract myself for the time being, he thought to himself.

“The door’s open.” he said.

The door opened moments later to reveal Izuku, who poked his head inside.

“Hi, Kacchan.” he spoke sheepishly, his cheeks tinted a light red.

It felt like Cupid had struck him through the heart.

Shit.

Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit—!

Oh goddamn it all, why does Deku have to be so cute, he asked himself.

Izuku stepped inside and closed the door behind him. He had on a simple navy blue v-neck shirt and blue pajama pants that had red stars, white stars, and All Might on them. Katsuki resisted the urge to snort. The pajama pants were ridiculously dorky, but they definitely suited him.

He looked down and noticed that Izuku was holding a piece of paper and a pen in his hand.

“Is that for me?” he asked.

“Oh, this? Yeah, it is. I’m stuck on this problem and I need you to help me solve it.” Izuku explained.

“Is that so...well, come sit on the bed. Make yourself comfortable.” Katsuki said.

Izuku nodded as he crawled onto Katsuki’s bed and leaned against the pillow Katsuki climbed on as well and sat down beside Izuku.

Immediately, the scent of eucalyptus mint hit the blond’s nostrils. Looking at Izuku’s slightly damp hair and his glowing skin, it was clear to him that he just came out of the shower. This made his heart hammer against his ribcage.

Shit, he smells so good. I wanna nuzzle my face into his neck and just inhale his scent, he thought to himself.

He shooed that thought away before it could fully manifest into an action.

“So? What’s the problem?” Katsuki asked.

“It’s this one.” Izuku showed him the paper. “I don’t know how to go about simplifying it...” he trailed off.

Katsuki took the piece of paper from him and he scanned it over.

“2i<6u...? Oh come on, Deku, this shit is so fucking easy. You just divide two from both sides and you get i<3u.” he said, taking Izuku’s pen from him and outlining teach step for him.

“I see...” Izuku peered down at the paper. “You know, that looks like it could be read a different way.” he pointed out.

“Huh? Read a different way?” Katsuki eyed the sheet of paper quizzically. “The only way that this can be read is i<3u.” he stated.

“No, there’s another way.” Izuku stated.

Katsuki furrowed his brows.

“I don’t follow.”

“You don’t know?”

“No, I fucking don’t.”

“I thought you were smart, Kacchan.”

“Huh?! Don’t test me, Deku! I’m fucking intelligent, I’ll have you know!”

“Then what is the other way you can read that?”

“Like hell if I know.”

“Would you like me to tell you?”

Katsuki shot a look at Izuku, who looking right back at him. This lasted for a few minutes before Izuku began to giggle.

“Alright, since it seems like you want me to tell you, then I might as well.” he said.

That was when Izuku leaned in closer, which caught Katsuki by surprise.

“Oi Deku, just what is it that you’re doing?” he asked.

“I’m going to tell you the answer.” Izuku replied.

Yeah, I figured that much, but do you have to be so close? It’s bad for my heart, Katsuki thought to himself.

Izuku leaned in even closer, his breath hitting Katsuki’s ear.

“The less than three makes a heart. So in other words, it can also be read as “I love you,” Kacchan.” he whispered.

Katsuki sat there for a few minutes, trying to comprehend what Izuku said. Then, it clicked.

“So in other words, it can also be read as “I love you,” Kacchan.” Izuku’s words played in his mind like a broken record as a blush crawled onto his cheeks.

Then, it began to spread to his ears the moment plush, warm lips connected with his cheek.

Oh, goddamn it all, he sure knows how to drive me wild, Katsuki thought to himself.

Before he could grab Izuku and show him what a real kiss is like, Izuku pulled away and he climbed off of the bed.

“Thanks for helping me solve that problem, I do appreciate it.” Izuku made his way over to the door. “Goodnight, Kacchan.” he said.

Then, Izuku winked at him (which, by the way, Katsuki thought was the cutest thing on Earth) before slipping out of the bedroom and closing the door behind him.

Placing the paper and pen off to one side, Katsuki flopped down onto the covers, burying his face in them.

Deku...he knew what the answer to that problem was all along, didn’t he? He only came up here to have me solve the problem so that he could tell me that he loves me, he thought to himself.

He did it on purpose.

Katsuki chuckled as a giddy feeling filled his chest.

“Damn.”

🧡💚🧡💚

Instance #5 - The Dorms, Katsuki’s Room (Morning)

Katsuki stirred from his slumber that morning to feel something warm pressed against him. Peeking under the covers, he saw Izuku curled up against him, his head resting on his chest over his heart.

Katsuki grinned.

Gosh, he’s so cute when he’s asleep, he thought to himself.

He slung an arm around Izuku’s torso and began to rub his back soothingly as he recalled what happened last night.

Izuku came to his room at around eleven-thirty last night in tears, saying that he had a dream where the League of Villains had taken Katsuki custody and in the end, he didn’t make it out alive. Izuku had been so shaken up that his first thought was to go upstairs and see for himself that the blond was alive and well. Katsuki took him into his room without a second thought and they ended up sleeping together in his bed with Katsuki rubbing circles into his back and whispering sweet nothings and reassurances before drifting off to sleep.

Izuku smiled in his sleep as he curled up closer to Katsuki. The blond rested his head atop Izuku’s, inhaling the scent of lavender shampoo in his curly, dark green locks.

Everything about this moment is just so fucking perfect. I wish I could wake up with him in my arms every morning, Katsuki thought to himself.

He moved his head down and began peppering Izuku’s face with chaste kisses. As he left one on his right eyelid, Izuku’s eyes fluttered open. He released a yawn.

“Mmmm...Kacchan...?” he mumbled, his voice thick with sleep.

Katsuki felt like he got shot in the heart by Cupid as Izuku reached up to rub the sleep out of his eyes.

Fuuuuuuuuck, he’s so fucking cute! Fuck! Fuck, fuck, fuck! Holy shit! Oh my god! Damn, now I really hope this moment can just last forever, he thought to himself.

Katsuki grinned down at him.

“Damn right, it’s me. Morning, Deku.” he leaned in and pressed a kiss to his forehead. “I take it you slept well last night?” he asked.

“I did! And it was all because I was in your arms the whole night, Kacchan.” Izuku replied, beaming up at him happily.

Katsuki laughed.

“You’re damn right. I’m your boyfriend, so I gotta make sure you’re getting enough sleep and shit.” he said.

Izuku couldn’t help but giggle.

“I know, I know.” he looked at Katsuki. “So, what were you doing before I woke up?” he asked.

“Looking at you. Thinking about how fucking cute you were as you slept. Showering your fucking cute face with kisses.” Katsuki replied.

Izuku blushed.

“So that’s what you were doing...”

“What, so you were actually awake the whole time?”

“No. It was only when I felt something pressing gently against my eyelid that I woke up.”

“Is that so...”

Izuku smiled.

“You know, I love you so much, Kacchan.” he said.

A blush dusted Katsuki’s cheeks pink as Izuku continued.

“You know what would make me love you even more than I already do?” he tapped a finger against his lips. “If you kiss me right here.” he said.

Katsuki chuckled.

“I like that.” he wrapped his arms around Izuku’s waist. “I really like the sound of that.” he said as he began to lean in towards Izuku.

Before their lips could touch, however, there was loud knocking at the door.

“Hey, Bakugou! You up yet?!”

Katsuki glared daggers at the door, hoping that it would slice through and stab whoever the fuck was at the door (most likely Eijirou).

“Fuck.” he bit out.

Way to ruin my alone time with Deku, dipshit.

🧡💚🧡💚

Bonus Instance (+1) - The Dorms, Near Izuku’s Room (Night)

“Kacchan, you know you didn’t have to do this.”

“Do what?”

“Walk me back to my room.”

“Well, I’m doing it because I want to.”

“But—”

“Shut up and let me fucking walk you back to your room, Deku.”

Izuku and Katsuki stepped into the dorm after spending two hours doing practice battles at the training ground (with permission from Aizawa, of course). They walked side by side, the only light in the dorm being the beams of moonlight that shone through the windows.

“Oi, Deku, you sure you don’t wanna shower before you go and sleep? You reek.” Katsuki said.

“Well, you reek, too.” Izuku responded with a huff.

“Huh, don’t you have a smart mouth, Deku.” Katsuki commented as he tickled Izuku’s side, causing him to dissolve into barely stifled giggles.

Flicking on the lights, they headed down the hall to Izuku’s room. Once they stopped, Izuku turned to smile at Katsuki.

“Well, thanks for walking me back to my room even though I told you numerous times that you didn’t have to. I appreciate it.” he leaned in towards Katsuki. “I love you, Kacchan.” he said before pressing a kiss to Katsuki’s cheek.

Katsuki looked at Izuku with a stunned look on his face as Izuku pulled away.

“Good night.” Izuku said as he turned to open the door.

Before he could step inside, Katsuki called out to him.

“Oi, wait just a fucking minute.”

Izuku turned as Katsuki grabbed him by the wrist and yanked him towards him, cupping his cheek as their lips crashed together in a kiss. Izuku was taken aback, but it only lasted for a short moment before melting, kissing Katsuki back.

The kiss lasted for a couple more minutes before Katsuki pulled away, pressing their foreheads together. Red bore into green as Katsuki spoke, his cheeks turning red.

“I...fucking love you too.” he said.

Immediately, Izuku blushed bright red. His heart soared and giddiness began to bubble up from within him like soda at Katsuki’s words. He grinned from ear to ear.

“I know, Kacchan.” he pecked him on the lips. “Good night.” he said.

“Yeah, good night.” Katsuki said as Izuku pulled away and he headed inside.

Before closing the door, Izuku turned and flashed Katsuki one last smile. “I love you, Kacchan. I really do.” he said.

“I know you fucking do. Now, go and catch some fucking zzz’s.” Katsuki said with the wave of his hand.

Izuku laughed before turning and closing the door behind him. Almost instantly, Katsuki dissolved into a blushing, flustered mess. He facepalmed as he let out a loud groan.

Oh my god, why am I acting like some fucking high school girl who just got her kiss?! My heart won’t stop fucking racing, my cheeks are fucking red, and my lips feel like they’re on fucking fire! It was just a fucking kiss and a simple “I fucking love you too,” so why the fuck am I like this, Katsuki asked himself.

He took a few deep breaths to calm his racing heart and to get rid of the raging blush on his cheeks. It worked in a matter of minutes.

“Now that’s more fucking like it.” he said.

He turned to start walking back to his room only to come face to face with a widely smiling Eijirou. This caught Katsuki off-guard.

“The fuck—”

“Man, Bakugou, you’re such a smooth operator!” Eijirou gushed.

“Huh? The fuck are you going on about, Shitty Hair?” Katsuki asked.

“Obviously when you pulled Midoriya to you and kissed him! And then you were all like, “I...fucking love you too” with really red cheeks and this really soft look on your face! Like, soft Bakugou is some good quality stuff right there!” Eijirou said.

Katsuki glared at Eijirou.

“You saw that?!”

“Uh, yeah? I mean, there’s nothing to be afraid of, since everyone else knows you two are dating.”

“What?! Everyone knows?!”

“Oh shit, I promised Yaoyorozu that I wouldn’t say anything—”

“Die!”

#bnha #boku no hero academia #bakudeku #bkdk #katsuki bakugou #izuku midoriya #bakugou katsuki #midoriya izuku #canon divergence #established bkdk #'secret' relationship #everyone else knows they're dating #but chooses not to say anything #fluff #loads of fluff #5 + 1 things #kawaiikichi

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mryddinwilt · 5 years

Text

stop reeling me in (and letting me go) - Part 7

Hi, hello. It’s been well over a year and everyone has moved on to other fandoms but CS still owns my heart and I want to finish my fics. So here have an update...

Summary: S3 canon divergence. No time portal and Emma and Henry went back to New York. Hook ferries Henry to Storybrooke every other weekend so he can be with Regina. Mutual pining ensues.

Formerly called CS+Mutual Pining and written as answers to asks. I figured since it was at 6k I should give it a name and post it on an archive.

___________________________________________________

The salt air tossed Emma’s hair as she stared out to the ocean. Her eyes stung and she knew it wasn’t from the wind or the sun but the aching in her gut. Her emotions crashed inside her like the waves beneath the Jolly Roger. Anger, resentment, rejection, frustration, all warred for attention. How had it gotten so out of hand? She thought back to the phone call from her mother earlier that day.

“Hey. What’s up?” Emma had been putting away breakfast and already running though her to-do list for the day.

“Sorry to bother you Emma.” Mary-Margaret said “Can you talk?”

“Sure.” Emma paused and leaned against the counter.

“I just wanted to ask if you had noticed anything different about Hook?”

“Different in what way? Like his clothes?” Emma tried to sound nonchalant even as she felt her defenses rise. Her parents ever present suspicions of Hook did that to her.

“No. Not that. Just his behavior.”

“He’s seemed normal. I mean for Hook.” Emma’s attempt at a joke fell flat.

“Has Henry mentioned anything about their time together? Hook acting differently? Anything?“

“No. Nothing.”

“Okay that’s good. Thank you.” Her mother didn’t quite sound convinced.

“What’s going on? Why are you worried about him?” Emma felt like she was missing something and it rankled.

“Oh nothing. It’s not your problem. I probably shouldn’t have bothered you. It’s just you know him best and I wanted to get your take. Your father...” There was a pause and Emma heard her little brother fussing in the background.

Emma could guess what David might be saying about Killian; it probably wasn’t flattering. Part of Emma knew it was none of her business that her life was in New York and she didn’t need to know about whatever squabbles were happening in Storybrooke. But the concern in Mary-Margaret’s voice had her on edge.

“Please just tell me what’s going on.” Emma asked.

There was a sigh and a pause. “About a week ago Zelena tried to escape.”

“What?” Emma sat up straight.

“It’s fine. She’s all locked up. But the security breach came from the outside. Someone in Storybrooke was trying to help her.”

“And you think... Hook?”

“It’s just one of many theories.” Mary-Margaret quickly soothed.

Emma’s mind whirled. She didn’t know which question to ask first and before she could make up her mind her baby brother started crying, loudly.

“I’m sorry Emma but I need to go. Don’t worry David is investigating things and we are all safe. I love you.”

The line went dead and Emma stared down at her phone. Zelena, the literal Wicked Witch, had almost escaped and nobody had bothered to mention it to her? What other things were happening in Storybrooke that nobody told her about? She felt a deep emptiness well up inside her, the old familiar feeling of being discarded. Logically she knew that she had asked for this, asked to be excluded from Storybrooke but somehow that didn’t make it hurt any less. And just because she didn’t live in there anymore didn’t mean she didn’t care or that she wouldn’t want to know if her family and friends were in danger. She shuddered to think what might happen if Zelena escaped.

Emma went back to cleaning up breakfast but she couldn’t shake the feeling that she needed to go to Storybrooke. Despite Mary-Margaret’s assurances that David had it under control Emma knew that if her parents were looking at Hook as a suspect then they were out of ideas, or worse, acting out of fear instead of evidence. Besides, Zelena was dangerous and Emma wouldn’t be able to sleep the next time Henry went for a visit if she wasn’t sure things were safe.

Her decision made she dialed Ruby’s phone and asked if she could find Hook. His voice, his stupid innuendo it had all put a ridiculous grin on her face but as soon as she hung up she frowned. Could he be working with Zelena?

She pushed the thought away as she made arrangements for Henry for the night. She contemplated packing a bag but that felt like too much of a commitment. She wasn’t staying. She was just going to go help and then get back to New York City.

Later as she stood on the dock waiting for Hook to arrive she started to think about her mother’s question. Was Hook acting differently? In their brief meetings he had been earnest, sometimes smiling, always sexy but practically innuendo free. There was something different about him but she had attributed that to the awkwardness between them. But he had turned down the chance to have dinner with her and the last time that had happened was when he was under Zelena’s control. Even as she thought it Emma knew she was being paranoid but she couldn't shake the niggling doubt.

When she saw the Jolly Roger pulling into the harbor her heart jumped in her chest and when she made out the leather-clad figure at the helm it flipped. There was something so right, so comforting about seeing Killian on the deck. He belonged on the ship, on the ocean. And a small voice whispered that he belonged helping her. She pushed the thought aside. She was happy he had got his ship back, he hadn’t ever said it out loud but she could tell that he missed it. It was his home after all.

She envied Hook his home, his sense of belonging. She had felt that in New York, before her real memories had returned, she had hoped to feel it again. But so far all she felt was lost. Hook had Mary-Margaret had told her she belonged in Storybrooke but how could she belong there without her magic. She smiled bitterly. Once a lost girl always a lost girl just as Peter Pan had said.

When Hook finally docked she was still in this frustrated and depressed frame of mind. His bright smile put her even more on edge and she was curt and rude as she boarded. She wanted nothing more than to escape below decks and find some rum. She could have asked Hook but then he would want to know why and she didn’t want to deal with his questions and his ability to read her like a book.

So she had avoided him and was disappointed when there wasn’t any rum to be found. As she wandered the decks, she remembered that Hook had never told her how he lost the Jolly Roger in the first place and that he had never really told her about the year he spent in the Enchanted Forest. Every time she had asked he had avoided the question. She trusted Hook but there was a lot she still didn’t know about him. With that thought she found herself at his cabin. She told herself she was looking for answers for her parents, something to exonerate Hook but deep down she knew that was a lie. She looked over his things, picked the locks of his desk drawer and found nothing.

Well, not quite nothing. She had found a well-loved sketch of a woman, a dark-haired and beautiful woman. Emma knew immediately it was Milah, his first love, the one he had spent hundreds of years trying to avenge. She felt then how wrong it was to be invading Killian’s privacy and in her haste to put the drawing away had tipped over his chair.

Then he had come down and…

Emma, now standing at the prow of the Jolly Roger, shook her head. It wouldn’t do to relive that last encounter. She had been ashamed and lashed out. He had been so angry and it fed her own anger. Anger at being left out, anger at being drawn back to Storybrooke, anger at Hook for confusing her.

And then they had been so close and her anger and shifted into need. She thought he had felt it too, thought he had wanted her. Wildly she had told herself that maybe she just needed to get him out of her system--to have that fun he had promised. She told him what she wanted and he stepped away. He had even looked hurt but she couldn’t think why. She was the one who had been rejected. She was the one now standing at the front of the ship fighting back tears.

This was why she had left Storybrooke in the first place. It was better to be the one to leave than to be the one left behind.

Her phone chimed in her pocket and Emma wiped at her eyes before checking it. It was a text from Regina, a response to her voicemail that she was coming to town and they needed to talk.

Let me know when you reach the harbor and I’ll come meet you.

Emma straightened her shoulders. She needed to forget about confusing pirates and being a lost girl. She had to focus on why she was there. She would figure out what happened with Zelena and do her best to make sure the town was safe. Then she would go back to New York City and find a way to make it her home, Peter Pan be damned.

#cs ff #captain swan fanfic #captain swan ff #mutual pining canon divergence #stop reeling me in and letting me go #mryddinwilt wrote something #it only took like 18 months #but whatever #anyone still interested in this?#like I know I am #hence why I wrote it #but the rest of you... idk man #cs really does still own me

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da-tasuky · 5 years

Text

Ok, guys let’s get this straight! What about me and my projects now?

Some of you know that things are getting easier for me. Slowly but surely! First of all: Thanks to everyone who has been worried, cheered me up and texted me. Honestly, you are golden! Now that things are more or less settled into something resembling normalcy, I am taking things back into action.

Regarding Art/Commissions: I haven’t been able to do much. During all this time I couldn’t carry around my drawing tablet and well, that happened. Just yesterday I was able to try a sketch of Ladybug from my A Feral Lady fic and I’M SO SLOPPY! Suddenly my desk feels so uncomfortable and hard to draw in. Just give me some time to get used to it again and I’ll finish pending commissions along with art I feel I owe myself and to you all, dear wonderful people who still follow me for my art and I haven’t posted much *sobs*

Zines and other collaborative projects: Luckily some were on hiatus or during process that didn’t need me so they weren’t hindered much if not at all by my absence. Anyway, I’ll join again during the next days and share whatever I’m allowed to about them in due time. I’m very grateful of my friends from those projects for being so understanding over my situation and I’m very sorry for my absence, I’ll return... with weapons!

Regarding Fics and AUs: NOW THIS IS FUN! While I couldn’t take my huge drawing tablet, I certainly was able to take my laptop with me! And you see, I did a lot. I’m not a fast writer at all. And I try to get everything betaed now since I don’t completely trust I’m translating my ideas from my mother language correctly to English but I do what I can to be able to share it with yall ♥ Let me name them, give a summary of it and then tell you what I have in store for it!

Princess Scoop: Pairing: Marichat “A new superhero joined the party. Rena Rouge is a passionate ally with scary reporter and fox tendencies. She was starting to get used to her newfound lifestyle when she discovered something incredible called Marichat.”

Now, let me remind you this was written before Rena Rouge was introduced so it has a non-canon origin to Rena. I honestly have a lot written about this but the third chapter was a huge challenge and ended up split into three parts. And yeah, that’s why it’s been eons and I haven’t posted it yet. But soon, guys, soon. All that writing won’t go to waste. Besides, when I started it I had too specific expectations and I kind of messed up, but now I’m working it in a more relaxed way.

I know you better than that: Pairing: Daminette “Years ago, Marinette started exchanging emails with Damian as a favor for her uncle Alfred. Her first impression of the kid? Annoying and cold. Today, she wouldn't change him for anything. His friendship helped to keep her afloat during hard times especially after becoming Ladybug. Now, Marinette and Alya prepare for a flight to Gotham to meet the frowny bird.”

Chapter 3 is ready and soon to be posted! I have a lot of ideas for it and actually made a huge and wonderful document to plan the story so I’m pretty pumped up! Little secrets from the document along with future sketches will be shared in my Patreon!

A Feral Lady: Pairing: Ladrien “Mister Adrien Agreste has moved to his father abandoned estate in front of a gorgeous forest in the hopes to make new friends, connections, good business and hopefully meet a lovely woman to marry. He never expected this to be the start of close encounters with grievous dangers, witchcraft and fantasy stories becoming real. Who is this mysterious disappeared Miss Marinette he keeps hearing about? And most importantly, does the Werecat that lives in the forest mean him ill will?”

The first chapter is- finally- ready! Actually, it’s been for a long time but I was just very unsure of it, I did some minor adjustments and I think I just should go with it. The second chapter is half-written and I have several original songs for it written too. So what is this fic about? A Feral Lady is basically Beauty and the beast with Jane Austen's influence BUT taking everything from Beauty and The Beast and kind of inverting it. Like I mentioned above, I am doing art for this and will be posted in Patreon before being released here along with the first chapter.

Akumapocalypse: Pairing: Lovesquare Since this AU is kinda huge and I want every single miraculous active, I decided to wait for more info about the characters on S3 to dive into it. Now that there are few miraculous we don’t know about, I was able to easily readapt what I had done with the new info and I can get creative with the others (unless we get leaks while I work in this!) Basically, this AU is pretty much what the name implies, the end of the world at the hands of Akumas. I’ll keep everything else as a surprise!

Oneshots/Other multi chapters: I miiight have mentioned some but honestly, I’m not big into those as much as the others mentioned above. Still, I might finish some one-shots soon and post them between the others, between those there is an akumanette idea, one about Master Fu, another cool and weird one idk how to describe but is basically about Marinette in a hard position and having to create an awful web to protect her identity (?) And I got one very cool multichapter Marichat! But before these, I want to prioritize the others first. Still, if anyone is hungry for the Marichat one, I might be swayed to jump from my headcanon document to a full first chapter. As a very loose way to put that one, I think I’ll call it “Chains” And it will be about an Akuma called The Chainer actually “winning”. Paris is severely damaged and people try to live the aftermath of the Akuma permanent magic. One of the big consequences is that Adrien “disappeared” leaving only Chat Noir and he is forced to live a new life as Chat 24/7.

Well, that’s about it!

Which one catches your interest the most? My ask is open if anyone wants to know a bit more about my stuff too ♥

#tasu stuff #marichat #daminette #ladrien #AKUMAPOCALYPSE #A Feral Lady #Princess Scoop #i know you better than that #So #What do you think?

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yinnezha · 6 years

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Hi! I wanna start this by saying that I don't really have an opinion on the karedevil relationship, as in I'm fine with it going canon or not as long as it's well written. So this is a genuine question: where do you see the writing that hints towards them having an actual relationship? Because to me personally it always seems like Karen is super into Matt, while he comes across as not that interested. Especially in S2, it felt more like he thought 'okay whatever, I guess we can go out.'

I also kinda feel like Karen deserves better? I love Matt dearly, but I mean, he basically dropped Karen the instant Elektra was back and acted like a douche, then decided to die with Elektra in Defenders, and then in S3 he seemed totally bitter he had to save her instead of going after Fisk. Maybe I’m just not seeing the writing you’re seeing, but that could totally be me since I’m not invested in any ship on the show. (2)

hey, I wanna start by apologizing for how long this answer is. I will address the points you raised and keep it as objective as I can, talking about the writing of the show and my understanding of it. All bias towards or against particular ships will be kept to myself.

“where do you see the writing that hints towards them having an actual relationship?”

The writing of the first season is filled with hints and foreshadowings, and while Matt and Karen spend the first season without a romantic involvement, it is underlined that they will. But is under lines, it is subtle, less in your face than Matt’s involvement with Claire (and for a reason but I’ll get to that). It is lines like Karen explaining how she promised to her grandmother to only serve her recipe to her future husband and then proceeds to serve it to Matt first, then Foggy. It is lines like Matt telling Foggy back in college that he’s looking for someone that he really likes listening to and a couple of episodes before that, he mention to Karen very matter of factly that he likes listening to her voice. It is lines like Karen’s acceptance of and trust in the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen. If you rewatch the first season looking for signs like these, you’ll find them (there are more).

“to me personally it always seems like Karen is super into Matt, while he comes across as not that interested”

Of course Karen’s interest in Matt was obvious from the start; she admires his idealism, his will to fight for justice, how he’s a person who wants to do good. But to understand why Matt wasn’t immediately interested in Karen we have to see things from his perspective. She’s a stranger, involved in some messy things, who is good but lies to him (for whatever reason that she has) and we cannot forget this, that Matt knows Karen lies to him. So with Matt’s “understanding” of people we can assume he is wary of having a relationship. See, Matt’s relationship with Claire was surface and it was meant to be that way. It happened fast, it developed fast and it ended fast. Because Claire was not the one who would accept him and understand him. And so in parallel with that, because Claire cannot accept Matt’s fighting crime, we have Karen’s undying support for the Man in the mask. You see what I mean? But back to Matt’s “disinterest” in Karen… He knows she is a good person, but that’s as far as it goes. They needed time to adjust, to get to know each other beyond the circunstances of their meeting. They needed to build a foundation, and that was happening slowly throughout the first season. The strangers become friends. Enters the second season where some time has passed and they are more confortable with the idea of exploring their mutual interest.

“it felt more like he thought ‘okay whatever, I guess we can go out’.”

Again, let’s take into consideration that they work together, they see each other all the time, they go out together. In the first episode we see a shift in Matt in which he is more playful with her, more lingering looks… Foggy says “I leave you two alone for one minute” which kind of implies that this is a common ocurrence now, that Matt and Karen are on the flirting banter for a while. And then later on the episode in which Matt kiss Karen for the first time, Foggy says “careful Matt keep going like this you might just end up happy and for a catholic boy that’s a pretty dangerous thing” interesting that he could’ve just teased Matt about being happy but he mentioned Matt’s religion as a subtle reminder to the audience of Matt’s inner struggles, how he beats himself up over what he deserves. You see when is something serious, meaningful is harder for him, his beliefs, his doubts gets on the way. Matt probably wanted to be with Karen for a while but didn’t know how, didn’t know if he deserves her (because of how he sees her, because in reality we the audience knows that she would understand and accept him). So you see, I disagree with your point on Matt “settling” for going out with Karen.

“I also kinda feel like Karen deserves better? I love Matt dearly, but I mean, he basically dropped Karen the instant Elektra was back and acted like a douche, then decided to die with Elektra in Defenders”

Remember my point on Claire not accepting Matt’s Daredevil identity? Well, Elektra is the opposite. She accepts Daredevil, but she does not accept Matt. See? This is good writing! We have different ends of the issue of Matt’s double life in both seasons. And both relationships were wrong for him because something was missing, and in both seasons we have Karen being underlined again as the one that would accept him as a whole. This is very important and it is in the storytelling. There is a reason why Elektra’s relationship with Matt was a parallel to Karen’s in episode 5, it was to show to the audience which relationship is the right one. A lot of people has issues with how Matt handled things but we’re here to talk about the writing and the second season was about Matt’s struggle with his double life and what he really wants. He spends the whole season losing control of his life, and it reflects on his choices.

Now on Karen deserving better, don’t you think Matt deserves better as well? Elektra was a toxic relationship that destroyed Matt’s life as he knew and drove away the two people that matters the most to him. And I’m not erasing Matt’s responsibility here, but no matter how we feel about his actions Matt is the hero of this story, it’s his show and so the writing is telling us to root for what is right for him and that is not Elektra. And he does deserve better. Matt is a complicated man, a tortured man (I mean he is a devoted catholic for crying out loud) he is messy so of course things won’t be easy for him. And that is what makes him interesting. And he did not just fucked up his relationship with Karen but with Foggy as well to whom he was also a bit of a douche. So it’s not about the romance here, but more about Matt’s choices and development and what he needs to fix it. And he does in the third season, he is heading in that direction.

In Defenders Matt was holding onto Matt Murdock and then in season 3 he was holding onto Daredevil. Matt never had a season in which he was not struggling with this. And part of the reason why his relationships don’t work is because of that. But now at the end of the third season we will finally see Matt being fully himself and the people that matter the most to him accepting and understanding because that’s the natural progression of the writing. We had to go through all of this, we needed him to reach this point. And not only Matt but Karen needed some development too. And the third season stripped them of their lies and made them face the truth and when that happened we had one of the best scenes of the season (a little biased sorry) and that is the start of a new chapter for them.

Both Karen and Matt deserve better and the better is themselves, a better version of themselves. Honesty and truth and trust. And that’s what we have been watching since the first season, that’s the story. That’s what the writers are telling us. They are the right, just not right now. They need to learn, they need to deserve, they need to reach that point where they’ll have the understanding and trust that we know they can have, and we know because it’s underlined, it’s being shown to us since the start. It’s a slow burn, beautiful and difficult and complicated and messy… just like Matt’s life. Just like Karen’s life. Just like all the good love stories are.

Many people has issues with Matt and Karen’s relationship, but from the writing and storytelling perspective is great. And is the direction the show will keep taking. They have been developing this romance since the very first episode of the show. Charlie Cox absolutely loves and understand the relationship because he knows Matt Murdock better than anyone, and he is right. Karen is Matt’s soulmate. It’s more deep and slow. And now to finish, something he said that sums up everything I said in a less annoying way:

What we never tried to do, and I think I’m speaking for the writers of the series as well, was to make the beautiful story with Karen – Deborah Ann Woll - look like a rebound relationship. Ultimately it’s a much deeper bond, which lasts fifty years and ironically is more important exactly because it doesn’t draw from roof-jumping, but from everyday life. I think if Karen and Matt could find a way to match their respective darknesses, they would find an excellent balance.

#anonymous #ask #karedevil

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