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dycefic · 3 years ago

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Have An Evil Day

No prompt this time, just a sequel to ‘Welcome To Evil-Mart’

Working at Evil-Mart is usually… well, it’s retail. It’s physically exhausting, you have to deal with a lot of idiots without being overtly rude, and your feet hurt. Even though the hours and pay are very good, the benefits are great, and our bosses treat us well compared to most retail employees, it’s still not what I’d call a fun job.

But it’s not what I’d call dull, either. Especially not on days like today.

I was promoted to supervisor after the Food Poisoning Incident, so I have a little more authority and a little less obligation to be pleasant and I got issued a weighted cosh because sometimes Evil-Mart customers get… feisty. I’d never had to use it, though, because those who hadn’t seen what I did to Majority Rules, either in person or on one of the cell-phone videos that circulated afterwards, had at least heard about it. They didn’t give me any trouble.

I was halfway through my shift, and the worst things that’d happened had been running out of croissants and a machine oil spill in Aisle Seven, when our greeter pressed the alarm button, which sent an alert to my handset. As front-end supervisor, that meant me, so I went over. Sam, who is unusual in the henching community for having actually aged out rather than ‘being retired’ jerked his chin in the direction of a tall, swaggering figure. “He just came in,” he whispered.

I did a full double-take before I took it in. Superdyne. Fucking Superdyne.

We’d all heard about his dramatic heel-turn a couple of months ago. The whole world had heard about it. Superdyne, who’d skated closer and closer to the line for years, had decided to cross it in a blaze of bloodshed. He was a villain now, he said. There’d been a whole speech about how ingratitude had driven him to it blah blah blah.

I work at Evil-Mart. I’m from a hench family. If someone becomes a supervillain because they hate Mondays or want to turn us all into dinosaurs or whatever, I don’t judge. I will sell depth-charges and laser guns to anyone who can prove they’re over eighteen without hesitation. But even we get kind of grossed out by the ‘I am forced to turn evil because I haven’t been given enough love’ thing. People who are actually so fucked up by emotional abuse or neglect or some superhero killing their family, we’re fine with them. But they don’t say that’s why they do it, and most of them need a lot of therapy to even realize it. People who actually say that’s why are entitled dickwads.

And now the dickwad had walked into Evil-Mart like he was entitled. Like he thought he was one of us.

“Lockdown protocols,” I told Sam quietly. “On my authorisation.” That takes a minute or two, though, so I went over to talk to Superdyne. “Sir, I have to ask how you even knew where to find this place.”

He smirked at me. “I have my ways,” he said smugly. He’d either bribed or beaten someone, that was my guess. “So this is where the villains shop? We all thought you went to Wal-Mart.” He laughed, like he thought it was clever.

“Yes, so you all say,” I said dryly. I didn’t feel like pretending he was the first person to make the bad joke. “My next question, sir, is what made you think it was a good idea to come in here.”

He spread his hands. “I’m one of you now!” he said happily. “I’m a bad guy! So now I guess I shop where the bad guys shop!” He looked around, frowning a little. “Although I was expecting more weapons and explosives. A… more villainous atmosphere. I didn’t know Evil-Mart had fresh produce.”

“I don’t advise buying herbs here unless you’re a magical practitioner. Some of them have… unusual effects.” A lot of our produce is normal stuff, but some of it not only isn’t legal, it doesn’t exist anywhere else.

“Oh. Well, that makes sense. But the bright lights and the bakery?”

“We have excellent gluten-free breads. In many ways, Superdyne, this is just another store. We have sales, we mark down the breads in the afternoon, we even have a PA system.” I pulled out my handset, and thumbed the button that tied it to the PA. “Attention, shoppers,” I said in my most soothing Customer Service voice, which made him grin. “Evil-Mart wishes to inform you – “ The countdown on my handset reached zero, and I turned to look at the entrance as a huge blast door thudded down. That was the last part of the sequence – staff outside the area were already in lockdown and security were on their way. I smiled, and continued almost without a pause. “- That we are in lockdown at this time, due to the presence of Superdyne in the store. Please remain calm, and be advised that security are on their way to deal with the problem. If you have a personal grudge that you wish to address with Superdyne at this time, he is standing near Register Six with a stupid expression on his face.”

He was staring at me, stunned. “But… but…” he stammered, and damned if he didn’t look puzzled. “But I’m one of you now!”

“No,” I said flatly. “You were always evil, that’s true, but you’ll never be one of us. And for the record, I’m one of the people with a personal grudge. All those henchmen you’ve killed and maimed had families, asshole… and they all shop here.”

He swung at me, then, but I spent years in hench training. Even someone super-strong can be dodged, and once I slammed my cosh into his groin a few times his punches got a lot more aimless. Around then, Tiger Ty came over the register, claws out and snarling, and I figured I should stand out of the way.

About ten minutes later, I turned on the PA again. “Clean-up to Register Six,” I called, in the same special voice. “Category 7, class three. Shoppers, please be advised that lockdown is now lifted but Register Six will be closed until clean-up is completed.”

Hunter, who’d been working Register Six, came out from underneath it. He looked a little green. Well, he was still in his teens, this was probably his first fatal mobbing. “What’s Category 7?” he asked in a shaky voice. “I haven’t heard that before.”

“Biohazard.”

“Oh. Class three?”

“Send three people. He was a juicy one.” I stepped away from a spreading puddle of blood. “Run and get a couple of caution signs we can put around this mess.” I eyed it measuringly. “And one of those fifteen-gallon plastic tubs with a lid, I’ll damage it out.”

He eyed the mess. “Are you sure that’s big enough?”

“Yeah, the average human is only about seventeen gallons by volume, and I’m not going to put all the blood and mush in there, just the big pieces.”

He gulped. “Ah. Yes, ma’am.”

I called after him when he ran off. “One of the black tubs, not a clear one!” Which honestly should only be common sense, but you can’t count on a flustered teenager to have common sense.

We frown on killing customers at Evil-Mart, up to a point… but when a particularly murderous super-hero walks into our store, well, that’s something else. I’d have to fill out a ton of paperwork, though.

I had to chase off one of Doctor Malign’s minons and two members of the Genetic Reign before the clean-up crew arrived, both of whom urgently wanted samples. In the end I scraped a few pieces of liver and unidentified organ into two of the bags we use for possibly-contaminated money just to make them go away. (They’re good customers, and it was just going to go in the trash anyway.)

By the time the clean-up was done, all the big pieces were boxed up, and I’d finished the paperwork, my shift had been over for twenty minutes, and I’d been asked to come up to the boss’s office.

“Listen, I have no issues with how you handled the situation, I want you to know that.” Mr Trent leaned back in his chair, tapping his fingertips together. “It was quick, it was efficient, and… given your personal history with Superdyne, not to mention mine and that of half of our customer base… richly deserved.”

“Yes, sir,” I said. It came out too meek, and I cleared my throat and straightened up. It’s hard not to be intimidated by Mr Trent, when you’re in the same room with him. It’s not his fault, and he does his best, but even under the strictest control his fear-inducing powers tend to unsettle anyone who gets too close. We all know he’s not doing it on purpose and we try not to show our reactions. “Do you have any orders regarding the remains?”

“Doctor Order wants them.” He rubbed his chin. “Get someone from the pharmacy to prepare samples for him, please, including brain tissue. He’s our primary supplier, and we can’t offend him. As for the rest… as you know, I’m retired, and I don’t usually participate in the Endless War.” One of his hands dropped to his left thigh. His prosthetic leg is some of Doctor Order’s best work, but the injury that led to his retirement had been brutal even by our standards. “But this is different. Superdyne came here. To our place of safety. We need to make sure that doesn’t happen again.”

I nodded. “Do you want the remains dumped somewhere public? Some kind of dramatic display?”

“No. Something more direct.” He rubbed his chin again, then tapped the intercom on his desk. “Iris, please send up Miss Fedorova from Marketing and Mr Levy from the warehouse.”

“Yes, sir,” Iris responded, and he clicked off the intercom again.

“The three of you worked together very well, during the food poisoning incident,” he explained. “And I believe they can assist us in a satisfactory conclusion.” He hesitated, then smiled ruefully. “Perhaps you should wait outside until they get here. I can tell I’m unsettling you.”

“Sir, I know you’re not – “

“Not doing it on purpose.” He sighed. “I do appreciate how hard you all work to make me feel… accepted, I really do. But I’m very annoyed right now, which makes control more difficult for me, so I think we’d both be more relaxed if you waited outside while I do my meditation exercises.”

I waited outside. When the three of us went into his office again, the miasma of low-level fear was definitely a bit lighter, and he smiled. “All right. Now, this conversation is going to be very confidential, and I will remind you all of the agreements you signed when you were employed.” We all chorused agreement, and he nodded. “Good. Now, this is very much a secret, even among Evil-Mart staff, but we do have a few online clients who are… ah… on the other side of the fence.”

Ms Fedorova blinked. “What?”

Knuckles sighed. “We ship to a few heroes,” he explained. “The ones who are… less homo than sapiens, if you get my drift.”

I didn’t, and from her expression Ms Fedorova didn’t either. Mr Trent spread his hands, drawing our eyes to his fingers. Which as a rule nobody looks at, because there’s fourteen of them, with four joints in each finger, and we know he’s self-conscious about it. “The less… purely human ones,” he said quietly. “One of the reasons I created Evil-Mart was to give those who can’t pass for human, like me, a place to be… people. To have dignity. So that the obligate carnivores weren’t reduced to living on pet-food or scavenging for scraps, so that those with complex metabolisms could get the supplements they need so that people who are still people, for all their outward differences, could shop in safety. There are a great many more monsters, demigods, abominations of science and other non-standard persons among our set than among the heroes, and I wanted to meet their needs, as well as selling weapons and Lair-away-from-home sets and so on.”

“And there are a few heroes who order from us for that reason,” Knuckles added. “The ones who can’t get medications to suit their metabolism, or need to eat things that you can’t get easily anywhere else.”

I nodded, because that much I understood. We have some very esoteric ‘dietary supplies’ that start with fresh, healthy, well-treated and disease-free prey animals frozen whole (from mouse up to calf and goat kept in stock, larger sizes by pre-order, halal and kosher certified where possible) and end with human blood (rejected blood bank stock mostly, we have an arrangement), and human flesh and organs (sourced from hospitals, morgues and crematoriums, guaranteed no murder, at least not by us). “Well, I suppose that makes sense. I’m surprised we ship to them, though.”

“Oh, they don’t know we know. It’s all assumed names and secret bank accounts.” Knuckles grinned. “But Mr Trent has all our online customers identified before we ship. And for the ones who don’t have any other options, well… we let it slide.”

“I can see why you don’t want that to get out.” Ms Fedorova tapped her chin. “What does this have to do with disposing of the body? I was planning to set up a really ghoulish display in a public place somewhere, I already have some sketches.” Marketing for Evil-Mart is… well, it includes more than designing our sale flyers.

“No. We’re going to deliver them to a hero… one of the ones who owes us… and make it very clear that just because someone decides to admit he’s a villain, that doesn’t make him one of us and it doesn’t entitle him to union services,” Mr Trent said flatly. “I want to make it crystal clear to all of them that a heel turn does not mean their sins are forgiven, or that we will accept them as anything other than a very brief amusement.”

Late that night – we were all on overtime, but it couldn’t be done in daylight – we wheeled a cart down the run-down hallway of a shoddy apartment building. “This is a terrible address for a hero,” Ms Fedorova muttered. “Are we sure he lives here?”

“I deliver here a couple of times a month.” Knuckles was pushing the cart. “I’m sure.”

“Okay.” Ms Fedorova cleared her throat, coughed once or twice, and suddenly her voice was deeper and her very faint Russian accent was as thick as pea soup. “This is intimidation tactic,” she said, grinning toothily. “Do not act surprised.”

I knocked on the door, but let Knuckles do the talking. “Delivery, Mr West,” he called, using the fake name the guy had been giving.

It worked… the door was unlocked and opened almost immediately. “I scheduled the order for next – “ the mark said, and then we were pushing inside, slamming the door behind us.

“Do not be alarmed, Mr… Dinoid, is it?” Ms Fedorova said, folding her arms. “Evil-Mart is knowing all along your real identity. But you are needing to eat, and we are not turning down regular business, so we make no trouble.”

Knuckles rolled his eyes behind her back at how much she was hamming it up, but I waved a hand. Let her have her fun. So Knuckles started unloading the boxes onto the table while she talked. “First, your Budget Bunny Box. Your favourite, da?” The next box, smaller, plunked down. “Two fresh chickens, halal certified, healthy and having lived good life, gift for good customer.” Knuckles dumped the plastic tub on the floor. “And mortal remains of Superdyne, with note.”

Dinoid was staring at us, but that made him shift into a combat stance, his long claws spread. “The… Superdyne’s dead? And in there?”

“Well. Most of him. The big pieces.” Ms Fedorova shrugged an impressively Russian shrug. I hadn’t even known that was a thing, but when she did it, it was obvious. “You must understand, when a mob tears a man apart, it is hard to find every little piece.”

“I’m pretty sure Doctor Malign and the Genetic Reign took off with doggy bags,” I said, as if I hadn’t handed them over myself. “And Doctor Order probably has some of him too, by now. So looking out for clones would be a good idea, I don’t know if that’s in the note.”

Insofar as that reptilian face could show readable expressions, he looked shocked. “Why on earth would… why? He changed sides? And why did you bring him to me?”

“We know your address, we know you don’t want to turn us in because we’re the only ones who can supply your meals, and our boss wanted us to make this very clear.” I indicated the note. Since Ms Fedorova was hamming up her Sexy Russian Supervillain act, and Knuckles was very obvious Muscle, I figured it was on me to be the Reasonable One. “He might have stopped being a hero, but that didn’t make him one of us. That didn’t make him acceptable to us. Our boss wants it made very clear that your failures shouldn’t expect to be accepted by us… or even spared by us.”

He shifted slowly, the tip of his tail twitching. “I… see. I understand why you would reject Superdyne. He was notorious for killing and maiming people on… your side. But I know other defectors have been accepted. Philomel, for example.”

“Philomel was child of villains. She is young, she is rebellious, she sides with heroes for a while.” Ms Fedorova shrugged. “Is understandable, da? The young do foolish things. She comes home, all is forgiven.”

He nodded slowly. “Tenebrous?”

“That story I don’t know.” Ms Fedorova glanced at me.

I nodded. “Tenebrous was just a kid. He was twelve when Varide recruited him. Nineteen when he broke with the guy. Varide put a kid into combat, left him with massive PTSD, then ditched him when he had a breakdown and went too far. Mx Frantique at least made sure he had a safe place to stay and some therapy.”

“It’s happened a few times.” Knuckles rested his elbows on the cart’s handles, his inhumanly big, strong hands dangling. “But there’s a process. A system. If someone’s sponsored by a villain in good standing, like Frantique sponsoring Tenbrous, they can be accepted. Nobody gets to just choose to join. Especially not a smug, entitled prick like Superdyne.”

Ms Fedorova suddenly leaned forward, scowling. “And why are you called Dinoid? You are not dinosaur. You are clearly monitor lizard. Golden monitor, I think.” She reached out and prodded his arm. “And not healthy, either. Look at colouration! You do not keep environment humid enough. Are having trouble with shedding, da?”

Now we were all staring at her. “You’re a lizard expert now?” Knuckles asked.

She shrugged. “What? Is hobby. Mamma’s little Varanus Acanthurus are pride and joy. Sadly, cannot keep larger monitors in city. Is unkind.”

Dinoid ran a hand over his head slowly. “Not many people realize,” he said slowly. “That’s why I order from you guys. I used to get frozen… food… from a pet supplier, but then I got contacted by someone who told me there was another option.”

“Is good thing. Those pet suppliers, they are rogues. They do not keep animals healthy, can get diseases or mites from those things.” Ms Fedorova sniffed. “I would never buy from them. My babies would get sick.”

He actually chuckled, then, seeming to relax a bit. “You’re not wrong. After… this happened… I got really sick a couple of times before I figured out what to eat, and where to get it. And even the reputable suppliers don’t always have the healthiest stock.” He opened his mouth wide, making a gagging noise. “You have no idea how bad that ‘reptile food’ is. Eating whole animals may be a little disgusting, but it’s nothing to some of that stuff.”

“I believe it,” I said emphatically. “There’s a reason Evil-Mart has such an extensive pet-food line. The horror stories we hear from some of our customers… well, you’d believe it, I bet, but most humans just look confused.”

Knuckles nodded, and spread his hands. “People who can’t pass for regular humans… or even for people, the way most normies see it… are a lot more common on our side of the fence than yours. That’s why we delivered to you. We figured you really needed it.”

“Does he order from the pharmacy?” Ms Fedorova was around behind him now, examining his back. “He is having calcium deficiency, am betting. He needs nutritional supplement.”

“I take a nutritional supplement,” he said defensively.

“The one for normal-sized lizards is not enough for man-sized monitor/human hybrid,” she said firmly. “Check pharmacy section next time. We are having excellent selection of supplements for hybrids, and chart to tell you how much to take for body-mass.”

He looked back and forth between the three of us. “You people are… not what I would have expected from an evil supermarket.”

“We may be… morally challenged,” I said, shrugging, “but we’re not heartless.” I looked around his tiny, shabby apartment. “Unlike some of your lot. I thought you were on a team. Why are you living here?”

He ducked his head. “I couldn’t live at the base,” he said, his tail drooping. “My… I made people uncomfortable. And the stipend isn’t much.”

“Isn’t much? With the merchandising deals they have?” Ms Fedorova sounded shocked, and the accent had dropped back a lot. “I know for a fact that if the accountants ever got hold of their books they’d owe more in back taxes than… well, than Evil-Mart would if our illegal product arm ever got discovered. And we pay our taxes on the legitimate stuff scrupulously.”

Dinoid blinked rapidly, though I couldn’t tell whether he was more surprised by her suddenly dropping her act or the idea that Evil-Mart pays taxes. “You do?”

“Of course. Not under that name, of course, there’s a shell company.” She sniffed. “All villains do. Al Capone, you know. We’re not getting caught that way again.”

Knuckles and I both nodded when he looked at us, and he shook his head. “Huh. Makes sense, I guess.”

“It does.” I looked around again. The place really was crappy. “I know it’s a personal question, Mr… West, but under the circumstances I’d like to know… how much is that stipend?”

He looked down at the floor for a while, then cleared his throat. “Uh. $1100 a month.”

We all stared at him. Ms Fedorova’s mouth fell open. Knuckles looked shocked, and I was horrified. “$1100 a month?!” I asked, my voice coming out louder than I’d intended. “For risking your life on a superhero team?! I have teenaged cashiers working part-time who make more than that!”

He looked almost as startled as we did. “For working a cash register?!”

“Evil-Mart pays pretty good.” Knuckles shrugged. “But that stipend is disgusting.”

“You are being exploited,” Ms Fedorova said, sounding really aghast. “That is terrible. Why, baseline henchman pay is twice that, and there are danger bonuses and…” Her voice dropped suddenly. “You don’t have a union, do you?”

“A union? Of course we don’t have a…” He trailed off. “You mean you do?”

“Of course we do. An extremely well-armed one.” Ms Fedorova folded her arms. “Henchmen And Allied Industries has represented us for generations. The last time a supervillain executed a union henchman for failure, he was boiled in oil… literally. On camera. Oh, of course some of the less reputable villains just pick up small-time trash from the streets, untrained rabble from the gangs and so on, so they can treat them as disposable, but we union members are skilled workers, with rights and protections. I bet you don’t even get overtime.”

“Of course not. Crime happens when it happens, and we have to…” He trailed off. “You guys get overtime?”

“We’re getting double time and a half for this conversation. And an extra day off.”

His eyes widened again. “Really? Wow, that’s… even when I was working a regular job, before this, I didn’t get pay like that.” He looked down at his hands and bared his teeth in what looked like an unhappy expression. “And now I can’t work anything but this kind of job. People don’t like having a scary dinosaur in their restaurant.”

There was a long pause.

“You can cook?” Ms Fedorova asked carefully.

“Yeah. I worked in my parents’ restaurant before… this.” He gestured at himself. “They were killed when we were attacked, and I was… changed.”

We all looked at each other. “After you’ve returned Superdyne’s remains to whoever you consider appropriate,” I said, grabbing a notepad and scribbling down my number, “I’d like you to give me a call. Evil-Mart is always hiring in the bakery and deli, and I mean always. Most bad guys aren’t great cooks. We don’t know why, it just seems to be one of those things.”

“You want me to join the bad guys?”

“I want you to work in a bakery. Villains and henchmen need to eat, and so do their families. Nobody’s going to ask you to rip superheroes in half, just maybe make a sandwich that won’t give anyone food poisoning.”

“That’s a regular concern?”

“Six months ago the three of us ran Evil-Mart’s physical store completely unassisted for most of a day because the only people who weren’t down with food poisoning were the ones who’d had the vegetarian and kosher meals.” I shuddered at the recollection. “Trust me. Someone who can cater staff functions without a major disaster would never have to live in an apartment like this working for us.”

“And we get full benefits, including dental.” Knuckles was shaking his head. “I bet you don’t even get hospital.”

“What hospital would take me? I always figured I’d go to the zoo and talk to the vet if – “

Ms Fedorova actually put her arms around him. “You,” she told him firmly, “are going to resign your terrible exploitative job, and then I will personally sponsor you to the union immediately. I have a spare room. You will like it. Humidity and temperature can be set just how you like, and Mamma Yelena will take you to real doctor expert in health of hybrids.”

“Those exist?” he asked, sounding a bit overwhelmed.

“Yeah, the Genetic Reign has like three of them,” I said sympathetically. “Listen, you can take some time to think it over, but you don’t have to put up with this kind of exploitation just because you don’t look human. Nearly a third of Evil-Mart’s staff can’t pass, and they’re treated just like everyone else.”

Superdyne’s dramatic demise got a lot of news coverage. Apparently it came as a real shock to the ‘good guys’ that there were some monsters even the superest villains wouldn’t embrace.

Dinoid no longer exists. Ismail Jameel works at Evil-Mart, and has expanded our fresh food lines a lot already. He’s a nice guy, and after Ms Fedorova told everyone how disgustingly he’d been exploited by those so-called ‘heroes’, he was welcomed with open arms. Literally, in at least one case – he’s dating someone from the warehouse, I’ve heard, though I don’t know who. He says we should rename the store, because we suck at being evil.

But evil is a really relative term. It can mean the blackest depravity, or a moment of viciousness, or even just ‘people on the other side’. Evil-Mart is called that because everyone, at least everyone on our side, is welcome. Plus, we all think it’s funny that the least-evil megacorporation is called ‘Evil-Mart’. What can we say? Bad guys have a sense of humour too.

Have an evil day!

#welcome to Evil Mart #good is not just good #evil is not just evil #people are complicated #and so is retail #tw graphic #tw gore #tw violence #tw murder #it's a supervillain story #supervillain shit happens #you are now warned

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oliviamillss · 4 years ago

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reading dreams chart

im only going to use up to orb 3, for stronger accuracy lmao

**if you can’t be bothered to read it all, theres a summary paragraph at the bottom**

sun:

sun in 7th: strong emphasis on relationships. tends to copy others lingo/habits. extroverted. probably ‘needs’ others. only really shows his true self around his close friends/family/partners.

sun at 19 degrees: a libra degree. (emphasis on this bc libra rules 7h), makes him a very charming, likeable, particularly popular guy.

sun opposite ascendant: inner conflict, probably doesn’t feel like people see him for his true self, may struggle showing true self. may feel misunderstood. may need approval/validation a lot.

sun square mars: hints to daddy issues. may struggle with a lot of built up anger and frustration, but it seems like he takes it out very positively, as you can see he is competitive, so i think he lets it out through gaming. probably very energetic, motivated.

sun square saturn: high expectations for himself. probably the type of person to think ‘i’m only good enough if i do this’. probably very hard on himself. also probably very insecure of himself, but doesn’t show it. another sun square masculine planet, more hinting to daddy issues.

moon:

moon in 7th: probably relies on close friends/family/partners a lot. loves to help people, esp people he’s close with (kinda mr beast vibes). probably very like ‘oh shit, he’s sad, i need to do everything within my power to cheer him up’ if that makes sense lmao

moon in virgo: looking after people!!! esp with the sun square saturn,, high expectations. probably a very much perfectionist, which also explains why he is competitive. may ‘always need to be right’. but virgo moons are actually so lovely omfg

moon at 9 degrees: sagittarius degree, likes to help people by optimism, and giving things to the person that they would want (im aware that sounds obvious lmao). probably feels a sense of achievement when cheers them up.

moon square pluto: probably hard time dealing with and growing from negative things that have happened, possibly struggles with letting things go. possibly self destructive (why did that one heatwaves part come to mind), possible trust issues + anxiety, probably very particular about who he lets close into his life, maybe quite protective.

mercury:

mercury in 6th: likes to help people, probably not disappointed if he spends his time working with someone, may struggle with anxiety/depression. a quick learner, probably overthink every word because it wast the ‘perfect’ thing to say.

mercury in leo: funny asf, and out there, also thinks his ideas/things to respond and say are the best, with the 6h and 7h placements, he is open to listen to others, but in the end he only really wants his one lmfao, good with conversation.

mercury at 1 degree: aries degree, another fire placement which emphasises the loud, out there kinda vibes.

mercury trine mc: career and reputation are strongly linked with what he says. (this is obv bc hes famous lmao). he’s smart, particularly with technology and its linked to his career. *im aware this sounds like im just describing him, this is exact so thats why its overly accurate*

mercury opposite neptune: daydreamer, probably has a lot of thoughts and ideas in his head, but they just dont come across right. probably zones out, may struggle with focusing. but very creative, has big and creative ideas. i havent mentioned it before but its come up too many times now, but he has a lot of placements, when manifested badly, creates a good manipulator

mercury square jupiter: optimistic, possibly thinks his ideas are the best (we’ve covered that before), can be really overly talkative or just nothing at all. (i rlly dont know much about this placement)

venus:

venus in 7th: he will have a beautiful relationship with his future partner. charming asfff, probably a good flirt. tends to love love. needs to be liked, sort of a pleaser.

venus in virgo: the type of person to remember everything about the people he cares about. loves to help the people he cares about. probably sees the people he truly loves as ‘perfect’, which may end up being really bad if they’re toxic.

venus in retrograde: struggles feeling loved, possibly feels like he doesn’t deserve love. probably the type to be like ‘how could you ever love me?’

venus square mc: attract people who take care of him. either has self-esteem issues, or is quite a dependant person. creative. may struggle finding people who support his career, or may have to change a few things about himself to be liked by others.

venus trine jupiter: very likeable, and he’s veryyy lucky. he’s funny, and a generous person, probably very giving to his close friends and family. charismatic asfff, likely he will marry someone foreign.

mars:

mars in 9th: more things hinting to attract(ing/ed to) foreigners. loves experiencing things with people he cares about. likes to learn more and more, possibly stubborn, makes sure his opinions are known.

mars in scorpio: that boy needs privacy in his life, doesn’t like being predictable. probably an overthinker. we’ve already known this but he’s definitely a top. probably could get anyone he wants, seductive asfff. also pretty spiteful.

mars at 17 degrees: leo degree, fame bitchesss

mars square ascendant: hates to lose, competitive. people may be intimidated by him at first, can’t really hide anger, pretty stubborn.

mars opposite saturn: really hard on himself. wants to be the best of the best, leader. stands up for himself. another placement hinting to daddy issues. harsh about his work, and himself in general, perfectionist.

mars square uranus: anger may change a lot, a lot of energy, probably struggles to focus, doesn’t like to be the one who is being controlled/has restrictions. probably struggles with authority. outbursts of anger.

jupiter

jupiter in 3rd house: loves writing, and is actually pretty good at it. knows how to talk to people, how to persuade them, and how to manipulate them. good liar, knows how to sell his wants across, how to get what he wants.

jupiter at 4 degrees: cancer degree, cancer rules his 6h. he uses his luck/money to help others.

jupiter square neptune: big dreams, desire to escape the world as it is.

saturn:

saturn in 3rd: afraid of/ is often misunderstood. struggles to open up?, maybe he wasn’t listened to much growing up. hard on himself academically, feels like he isn’t smart enough. hard time expressing himself. maybe feels like noone really cares for what he has to say?

saturn at 16 degrees: cancer degree. idk what else to say abt it lmaoo

saturn square ascendant: quite serious, maybe struggle with the way he looks? possibly quite overwhelmed about his life,, feels like he has too much to do at times. fear of rejectionnn

saturn square uranus: maybe he doesn’t like change, tradition v change clashing. authority troubles. probably needs freedom, but feels unstable without what he’s used to. rebelling against norms.

uranus:

uranus in 12th: probably very curious about unexplainable things, maybe quite into conspiracy theories. two complete ends of the spectrum: fear change/need it, unpredictable things happen/ everythings the same.

uranus at 14 degrees: taurus. taurus ruling 2nd, i guess it shows change in dream’s wealth.

uranus opposite north node (and conj south node): with exceptions, doesn’t like conflict. he is fine with joke conflict, but the second there’s an actual argument he tries to be the ‘peacemaker’ guy. technology is major in his life. also quite nervous about his career/future.

neptune:

neptune in 12th: awful sleep schedule. overworking himself, never relaxing. vivid dreams. once again, this has come up loads and i just haven’t mentioned it: intuitive asf, george is the same. whether either are aware of it or not, they are super intuitive.

neptune at 2 degrees: taurus degree.

neptune sextile mc: creative, also likes helping others, empathy to the public. has big dreams career wise.

pluto:

pluto in 10th: determined person, gets a lot of hate, but also a lot of love. trust issues, persuasion/manipulative abilities. leader leader leader. another hint to daddy issues, maybe privacy invading, maybe overprotective. don’t want to be controlled.

north node:

north node in 6th: overwork himself. but i think we can interpret this as his life goal to be working to help people. literally mr beast. just work hard, and give a lot away. humble.

chiron:

chiron in 9th: possible restriction from either his or his communities beliefs/religions. maybe he’s afraid of leaving where he is right now (sapnap moving to orlando, whenever its brought up its always george coming to orlando)

lilith:

lilith in sagittarius: need for truth. dislikes restrictions. hides emotions, uses humour to avoid them/ make people think they’re okay when they’re not. stubborn asf.

lilith in 10th: tend to be sexualised/ reputations for being sexual. another placement hinting to daddy issues. really wants to be at the top, the most powerful. likes using his dominance/ power to seduce. motivateddd.

lilith conjunct pluto (exact omfg): typical ‘mystery’ guy. probably the mystery/scorpio vibes he pulls off attracts/ seduces people. the most dominant partner ever. sex is probably so intense and overwhelming

moon square lilith: possible mummy issues. his need for sex can change quick asf, from one end of the scale to another. struggles to open up.

i ought to mention!!

there’s a theory that the degree of your venus sign is the birthday of someone who is v important in your life. what’s dreams you may ask? 1. and when are george and sapnap’s birthdays? the 1st. they’re soulmates, your honour.

summary!!!

basically, dream has so much care and love for his friends and family, and probably relies on them a lot. he only shows his true self around them, and he (at least thinks) people don’t really understand him in the way his friends and family do. he is a social person, who’s very likeable and charming. he lovesss helping people, doing everything in his power to cheer others up, he remembers details about the people he loves. he is such a perfectionist, needing to succeed and win and everything, and is very competitive. he probably doesn’t think he’s ‘worthy’ if he’s bad at something. he sets very high expectations for himself. he is very hard on himself. if he wants to, he knows how to manipulate people. he has so so many placements for an amazing manipulator. he may struggle to express himself or open up, and may be hard on himself academically. maybe he doesn’t feel ‘listened to’. a lot of emotions like anger and sex drive may change rapidly for him. he over works himself a lot. a major theme in his life is tradition vs change. he is probably afraid of change, or finds it uncomfortable, or he may have some sort of attachment to traditional values/things, no matter how much he wants to change. he is also a peacemaker. he was born to be loved or hated, kinda like marmite but if the balance was more equal. he doesn’t like restrictions. he uses humour to hide his emotions.

im also thinking of doing a synastry reading between george and dream but idk yet lol

hope you guys enjoyed, this took ages lmao<3

#dream #dreamwastaken #dreamsmp #astrology #chart reading #sun in 7th #famous people chart reading #moon in 7th #mercury in 6th #venus in 7th #mars in 9th #jupiter in 3rd #saturn in 3rd #uranus in 12th #neptune in 12th #lilith in 10th #lilith conjunct pluto #moon square lilith #astrology reading

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brodependent · 4 years ago

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Sam loves Dean as much as Dean loves Sam: a meta

Much as I love reading good meta, I don’t often write meta. Thus please accept my apologies if this is mediocre, and let me start with a simple topic sentence:

Sam loves Dean as much as Dean loves Sam.

A little longer, now: Sam is even better at loving Dean than Dean is at loving Sam because of Dean’s profound and abiding love for Sam.

Confusing, right? But not really.

We all know how Dean lives and breathes SammySammySammywatchoutforSammy. It’s his defining mission, his ultimate purpose, or, as a therapist might say, his “core belief.” But sometimes I think that we allow adult!Dean too little autonomy. We assume that he can’t help himself: he’s locked into this single-minded focus, on loving and protecting the only family he has left.

That sells Dean short. (Hang in there, I promise I’ll get to Sam in a moment.)

Even people who have been forced into a certain way of life have choices. Even people who have been told who they are all their life have choices. Dean tells us, in Season 14, I’m good with who I am--and I, for one, believe him. Whether we follow canon all the way to 15x17, when Dean is finally brought back from the edge of his desire for revenge against Chuck by his love for Sam (the only thing that’s “real”), or whether we keep to season 1 when Dean said--that’s all we have...that’s all I have... and I want us to be a family again and as long as I’m around, nothing bad is gonna happen to you--Dean has always accepted his role as Sam’s big brother. Dean’s life is unabashedly Sam-centric. He’d change a lot of things, but in the end he’d change nothing, because he wouldn’t change that.

Some fans get very het up about the codependent aspect of this. Others (in my opinion, rightly) defend it. There’s scads of meta on why the Winchester dynamic IS necessary for their mythic role in the narrative, and their human role in the narrative (more importantly), so I won’t write that meta now. All I’m saying is what I think you already know: Dean lives for Sam, his baby brother, and despite the grief, the growing pains, the occasional cruelty of desperate love, Dean said it all when he told Sam (and us), Don’t you ever think that there is anything, past or present that I would put in front of you.

So where does that leave Sam, and his love for Dean? Let’s start with that line I just quoted. Building on the above, Dean’s goal in life is to give Sam a life. He wants Sam to be happy. He wants him to be free. He also wants to keep him by his side forever, to control him for safety and comfort’s sake, and sometimes those instincts of a frightened-child-turned-traumatized-man win out. Dean isn’t perfect. Dean’s full of contradictions. But time and again he goes back to stone number one: what he can do for Sam. What he can offer Sam, by being the grunt, by standing in harm’s way.

When we begin the story, Sam has succeeded in the path Dean helped carve for him. I’m not taking all the credit from Sam here, and giving it Dean: merely pointing out that Dean stepped into traditional parental roles and helped send Sam into adulthood, even though that meant Sam leaving him. We know that the night Sam left for Stanford was one of the worst of Dean’s life, but even in mid-season 1, Dean tells Sam he’s proud of him. You always know what you want. You stand up to Dad. Hell, sometimes I wish I--

(this, of course, is beautifully echoed in the series finale itself)

Dean is telling Sam what so many parents tell their children: you have gone places I never could, accomplished goals I never could, grown in grace and understanding like I never could. At least, I like to think that’s what the best parents tell their children.

To Dean, Sam is always the one with more hope. More wholeness. More options. To Sam, Dean is stone number one.

You asked how Sam loves Dean, and my answer is: just look. Look at how Sam goes out into the world young, stands up to their father, makes his own decisions, fights back against Dean’s own nihilistic narrative through their primary losses and setbacks. Dean gave Sam the safety to build a better worldview than Dean himself has, and Sam turns that right back around and tries to give it to Dean.

What do you think my job is? You’re my big brother--there’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you.

I can’t lose you.

You’re not a grunt, Dean, you’re a genius.

This is my life. I love it. But I can’t do it without my brother. I don’t want to do it without my brother.

I am going to save my brother. And then I’m going to kill you dead.

If you ever need to talk about anything with anybody, you got somebody right here next to you.

I believe in us.

This is just a small collection of Sam quotes showing his love for Dean. A small collection showing the persistent theme of Sam’s persistence. He knows that pushing chick-flick moments and emotional conversations can get jokes for a dime a dozen, and even the occasional punch thrown his way. He keeps at it anyway. When Sam knows Dean’s hurting, he wants to help. He’d do anything to help. He won’t sit around and see his brother turn into an embittered killer (season 2), go to hell for saving his life (season 3), take on the Trials (season 8), be irrevocably corrupted by the Mark of Cain (seasons 9-10), let him despair (seasons 11 and 13), let him sacrifice himself to an archangel’s grave (season 14), or let him lose his goodness to the whims of a vicious god (season 15). Sam fights for Dean with full use of his considerable gifts--intelligence, rationality, resourcefulness, and yes, the occasional blind rage. Sam looks to Dean, first as a leader, then as a judge, and finally as an equal. Sam has been looking up to Dean since he was four, yes, but over the course of the show he comes to look at Dean. With love, peace, understanding, humor, pain...whatever their inimitable connection requires.

The quotes I noted above also reveal Sam’s own conflicts rear up. Sam and Dean (again, in my opinion) are equally developed characters. Both have flaws and inconsistencies. Both have struggles inherent to their personalities and upbringings, distinct from those imposed on them by supernatural forces.

Sam had a glimpse of a different life, once. He had the smarts, he had the drive, he had the sheer stubbornness to live a different life than John or Azazel or hell, even Lucifer had planned for him. But also in Sam--innate in Sam--is his core of goodness and compassion and the principle of doing right, which leads him back into the life and to soul-crushing sacrifice again and again.

Sam breaks and is broken. Sam suffers and ages and spends more time in hell than even Dean, who went to protect him.

But what keeps Sam going? Dean. Dean can’t live without Sam. We know that. The flip side is that Sam doesn’t want to live without Dean. Importantly, I think, he has more choice in the matter. Dean focused his whole childhood identity on giving Sam a life that meant he had choices, even if Dean didn’t know he was doing that. Sam can move through more crowds, more roles, more relationships. He has a better education, he has a more powerful ability to intellectually reason and detach. He would have made a great lawyer. Yet he casts all this aside out of sheer willpower, choosing instead to love Dean and live with Dean through the chaos of their lives, and to go near mad when Dean is gone. Consider Sam in season 4, Sam in season 10...Sam in season 8 trying to atone for the very choice that Dean (the best part of Dean) wanted him to make, even if the real muddle of Dean’s psyche couldn’t forgive him, for a time, for making it.

All of this leads us to the finale.

You said you wish Sam had said I love you back to Dean in the finale. I argue that he did. He made his love perfectly clear to Dean in that moment by holding his hand, by looking in his eyes. He said, you can go now, when all he wanted was for Dean to stay.

The best part of Dean wanted Sam to have happiness and freedom. At the end of his life, Dean was finally able to communicate that without fear or reservation.

But the bittersweet brilliance of that moment is that Sam--the Stanford boy who went to hell and back, who saved the world, brought down one god and raised another--no longer wanted any kind of happiness or freedom that didn’t include the one person who’d been by his side all along. Dean was giving his blessing for a path that didn’t beckon Sam anymore. And yet: Sam said yes to it out of the love for Dean. Sam went out of that barn, out of the bunker, out of that day and that year and that decade and into the next and the next, out of love for Dean. Sam loved Dean by living. He loved Dean by raising another Winchester. He loved Dean by holding all their contradictions, flaws, and heroisms in his heart (in their car), until he’d done what he set out to do many times over.

Then he met Dean on a mended bridge, dressed in old clothes that said: I was happiest at the beginning. I was happiest when we could be brothers again. I took my time getting here anyway, because I know that was what you wanted. I took my time so that we could be happiest now.

If that isn’t love, I don’t know what is.

#my meta #meta #spn meta #the epic love story of sam and dean #sam winchester #dean winchester #spn positive #spn #supernatural #carry on #spn finale #sam loves dean as much as dean love sam #winchesters #sam n dean #sam and dean

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judyhopps934-mt-zd · 4 years ago

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Thoughts on Miraculous Shanghai: The Legend of Lady Dragon

Warning: Spoilers! Other than that, have fun!

Also, if you want to watch the full English Dub, click here!

I love how we saw Fei's backstory as to how she became guardian of the Prodigious and how it was actually stolen because there are people who want money from her adoptive father's studio. It was also sad to see that the values her father implemented into her fade due to the circumstances they found themselves in. I speak for all of us to say that this girl needs a hug.

The intro as always is beautiful! Since it was not the first thing we saw, I was confused when looking through the episodes on YT.

I always enjoy Marinette's monologues, and this one was over how she looked forward to her holiday (it was like a vacation type thing). And how she looked forward to spend time with Adrien since his father was going to let him out. It was all perfect...

...until she went to deliver Uncle Wang's package and found out Adrien left for Shanghai at the last minute. But all is good though because she could go to Shanghai, deliver the gift personally, and see Adrien.

It hurts me to see that the writers made Marinette's purpose to go to Shanghai is to see Adrien when she can do that in Paris! It frustrates me that her character development goes back to square one, even as the protagonist of the show. People might point out this was before season 3, but I have a few points that say otherwise or that the writers are mixing things up. But first, the plot points and thoughts of everything else.

Also, I get that Marinette is 14/15/16 at the time of this episode, but how likely is it to send your child on their own halfway across the world??? On SHORT NOTICE??? I swear Sabine and Tom are too chill with this, but then again, there would be no story.

Also, I love how Ladybug and Chat Noir took the opportunity of their patrols without akumas to bond more. The Ladynoir in this episode I stan!

Gabriel you piece of trash! If you did not plan to spend time with your son, why take him to Shanghai when he was hoping to spend time with you?! And do not say "for business purposes" because even though Adrien is a face in the brand, at least don't give him false hope and that bs!

Nooro, thank you for trying to talk Gabriel out of it, but he is literally a wall (talking to Gabriel=talking to a wall)

I will say, the waiting for 15 years thing is very concerning.

Uncle Wang has been looking forward to see Marinette in person in Shanghai to learn more about her roots. He is ecstatic and its just heartwarming and heartbreaking when you think that part of Marinette's stay will be related to Adrien.

At least we see one thing that makes Marinette's stay not all about Adrien though: she is genuinely interested in her origins! Like when she asks about her family's traditional songs and about her mom, even learning her real name!

Speaking of which, Sabine's name is Xia Ping and only called herself Sabine when she started living in France. Also, I love her photo!

Bastille the bird that was around since forever is an icon!

Also, I can't believe Uncle Wang has not taken a break since Sabine moved to France, like what the hell??? Give this guy a break for goodness sake.

Thank you Gabriel for having one brain cell and allowing your son to leave the hotel! We still hate you for everything else though.

Its cool that Kwamis speak all of the languages. It is also the most logical thing because their wielder could be from anywhere. My question is are they taught the languages, does it form when a concept forms in the universe and they start existing, or like everything else is it magic?

Gorilla is iconic for two reasons: he is still a self care king, and he was willing to give Adrien some space to get action figures.

And now as I wrote that, this is where I am getting confused and start to believe this is post season 3: 1) Gorilla seems less anxious about being in a new place (unlike NY where he stayed in the hotel room the entire time), and 2) His obsession for action figures was shown in Party Crasher (season 3), which makes me wonder if the explanation is during season 3 or this episode hints at season 3. For the first point, it could be because Gabriel was not in NY to his knowledge.

Fei appears again and explains how she views the world and how she also uses that to help and take advantage of others.

She almost steals Adrien's phone and miraculous until Gorilla steps in. It hurts me because she is a good person but had to resort to stealing for a reason that we will explore soon.

Plagg, we always say your stomach causes trouble, but this time, you brought Adrien to Marinette's uncle...

...but also that ironically separated them as Marinette found them just as they climbed into the taxi.

This is also where Fei (wearing a disguise) crosses paths with Marinette and steals her purse. Then she went for the kwagatama and miraculous.

Things get worse for Fei as these boys that took a photo with Adrien earlier started chasing her. Then Marinette started going after them.

That is when she realized she was robbed and understandably, she was more horrified of losing her Miraculous.

Adrien shows up to Uncle Wang's home/restaurant. So many iconic moments happen.

1) Bastille says something about love between Marinette and Adrien. And Adrien responds with the line that makes us want to jump into the TV and talk some sense into him.

2) You say that "she's JuST a fRIenD" yet you stay over with her mom's uncle so you can surprise her lol. Adrien, you kill me and every other Adrienette fan with this contradicting statements.

Speaking of Marinette, she gets lost and has trouble communicating with others because she does not speak Chinese. And at some point says that she regrets not taking lessons?! Uh, what does this imply, that she refused lessons or that she did not have the opportunity for lessons??????? I NEED ANSWERS!

Can we say once again how talented and artistic Marinette is? Bad time? Moving on!

Uncle Wang is unaware of Marinette's tardiness, and Adrien just jokes about it. Considering that she is technically missing (reality is that she's lost), I don't think its time to joke about it.

The lady that gave Marinette some earrings that look like the Miraculous is so nice and bless her soul

The person from the pawn shop is the bad guy that we see at the very end of the NY special! And he knows about what happened to Fei's father! I am grateful that he sees no value in Marinette's stuff so he won't sell it for a lot, but I hate how he's greedy for money and was willing to exploit Fei's hunger for answers and Marinette needing her miraculous for personal gains.

Meanwhile, the boys from the photo with Adrien that chased Fei were trying to get Marinette's attention (they found her kwagatama when Fei dropped it running away and fighting them), but she thought they were gonna attack her. And then she bumps into Fei, who helps her escape.

Marinette finds comfort in Fei for being willing to "help" her (remember that she was gonna bring her to the pawn shop). She also finds Fei as a helpful, kind person who is brave: something that Fei does not see in herself, but does not have the heart to tell Marinette the truth.

Meanwhile, Chat has transformed to find Marinette and its the most endearing thing I've seen! Adrien, you blind oblivious fool! You care about her more than you think!

They arrive in the pawn shop, Tikki escaped the claw machine, and Marinette finds the earrings...for 100000 Yuan.

Fei, understanding what its like to have something entrusted to you be stolen, gets in a spat with the pawn shop owner in Chinese, accusing the owner for greed and accusing Fei for theft, while Marinette just stands her.

Also, when did Marinette become naive???????? I get that she's in another country and they are speaking in a different language that she does not understand, but based on the tone of their voices and shouting, I feel like she should have sensed something was off.

Fei swaps the earrings the lady gave Marinette and took the miraculous back. To the lady, this is why your soul is blessed. So bless your soul!!!

Apparently, Marinette realized what happened and said that Fei stole her earrings and feels bad for the man. Girl, you do not have to feel guilty for the man! He was about to destroy them before he thought about sentimental value! Also, he did not pay Fei anything for them! (Felt that this should be brought up because even though Fei was wrong in stealing her stuff, she was also robbed from potential cash and answers, therefore the man was owed nothing.)

The boys from Adrien's photo are actually vigilantes of Shanghai (and will be referred as such from now on), wanting to bring Fei to justice for stealing, which catches Marinette's attention, but not enough to ask any questions.

Also Marinette is not wanted as a criminal. She is missing as Uncle Wang called the police.

Fei still lives in the school, which has been in ruins. Despite not having much, she still offers Marinette a cup of what I believe is water (or tea?). See peoples, Fei is a good person at heart (if y'all aren't aware of it by now)

Gabriel saw and recognized Marinette. This is horrifying and if it is prior to season 3, we see why he tries so hard to target her. Or reasons why he targets her in season 4 along with everything else we know from "Truth".

Fei should have been given the chance to explain why she stole Marinette's things, but the pawn shop owner was like "you know, I might as well expose Fei myself"...

...and it really broke Marinette, who heavily trusted her. But she can't dwell on it for long...

...because AKUMA COMES FOR THE PAWN SHOP OWNER! AND HIS FAN SHOOTS KNIVES! AND HAS GREEDY MOTIVES! AND HELPED HAWKMOTH GET INTI THE CAVE WITH THE PRODIGIOUS!!!

Also, Nathalie was involved in obtaining the bracelet years ago. Again, the 15 years thing is concerning.

Marinette flees to transform, but not without telling Fei how she broke her trust and how she feels that Feinwas not genuinely helping her. It hurt me so much!

Ladybug transforms, hears Chat's voice-mail (to which she is swooned by the fact her kitty cares for her civilian self), and calls him. The best Ladynoir scene so far!

So the prodigious is like a jewel with powers, there is only one prodigious from what we see, and that one prodigious has multiple renlings that only the wielder can see. Oh, and the bracelet is like a key. Cool.

I don't like how Fei's Lady Dragon outfit looks whitewashed, but at least her hair is red instead of blonde (which still does not make this okay)

Epic Showdown between the akuma, Hawkmoth, Ladybug, and Lady Dragon. Hawkmoth corners Ladybug and Lady Dragon gets caught in some rocks.. All hope seemed lost...

...until Chat shows up and frees the akuma with the help of a basketball.

We learn something new folks: the same butterfly can create a different akuma. This is very frightening because...

The statue that determines who is worthy of the prodigious gets akumatized! The horror!

Also, if the statue says Fei cannot become the dragon because her intention to seek vengeance for her father is not noble and worthy, then what makes Hawkmoth think he will be successful in becoming the dragon??? Because it seems that his intentions are not pure or noble. Just saying.

Hawkmoth notices the akumatized statue heading to the city and all of a sudden remembers about Adrien. Confronting the statue, he gets turned into ashes(?).

CHAT, HAWKMOTH IN ASHES WOULD HAVE BEEN FOR THE BETTER IF THE STATUE DID NOT DESTROY SHANGHAI AND YOU WOULD NOT THINK AS SUCH IF YOU KNEW HE WAS YOUR FATHER! But I am not mad at you, just wanted to point out your irony.

ML WRITERS, WHY DO YOU KEEP KILLING OFF CHAT????? LADYBUG DOES NOT NEED ANY MORE TRAUMA AND THAT WAS COMPLETELY UNNECESSARY!!!! I AM SCREAMING INSIDE!!!!!

Fei is understandably upset and blames herself for what happen. I want to hug her so badly.

Marinette reassures Fei and forgives her, even though Fei felt that she could not be forgiven.

The structure they were standing on collapses and it was Fei as the Dragon who saved her, not Chat. Honestly, I love how it turned out as it strengthens their friendship, but I still prefer a Marichat alternative. WHERE IS THE MARICHAT PEOPLES???

Final showdown!

Poor statue guard was upset about the damage they caused as an akuma, but Miraculous Ladybiug fixes everything.

Fei learned an important lesson: let justice take its course, not enact revenge. But it was quite funny to have the pawn shop owner be flown away to court in a literal sense.

The bracelet has a renling-like creature, who is just so adorable, especially since they missed Fei and was waiting for the day they would be reunited. Aww!

Ladynoir version of the Moon scene from NYC! Except no dancing, just them challenging each other over who will get to Paris first if they traveled in opposite directions. No one shall ever know we were in Shanghai as civilians lol (Reminds me of my best friend when eating grapes during choral rehearsals)

Marinette, Adrien, Fei, and Uncle Wang enjoying a birthday (?) dinner was wholesome.

I love how Uncle Wang calls them boyfriend and girlfriend because of how they act around each other, yet Marinette and Adrien both deny it. Bruh, these children need to open their fricking eyes! I really wanted to jump through my phone screen!

The Shanghai Vigilantes came to return Marinette's kwagatama necklace. They are so precious even though we thought they were enemies in the trailer.

Even though they were at odds at first, love how the Vigilantes blushed when Fei played the accordion and she's just like "whatever". I stan an asexual queen.

Do I even want to know what Marinette accidentally said when she mispronounced "sister" in Chinese? Based on what Fei said, probably not.

Uh...NOW I WANT TO SEE MORE OF ADRIEN TEACHING MARINETTE CHINESE! While I do take some issue of Adrien (a white French boy) teaching Marinette her culture like most of us had issue with in "Kung Food", I also want to see them interact outside of school and hopefully bond. ML writers need to keep their word otherwise Adrienette stans will riot!

Love how the final scene turned out! Its just *chef's kisses*

Also, the hell with the business trip?? It was mentioned once again IN THE ENDCARD! It might not be as interesting, but I want to think that there was more truth to it.

Also, wifi troubles kept interrupting the show at crucial moments, but okay.

Overall, I live for the Shanghai episode! The animation is just as incredible as the NY special (which I also live for) and I love how this episode has a great focus on Fei and the prodigious. I mean, before the intro, she tells her story. And she has her monologues alongside Marinette's. In many ways, it's refreshing. Also, Ladynoir and Adrienette stans will be satiated with the scenes associated with each ship. Also, I love Fei's character development! And the final scene is wholesome!

I won't lie though: there are a few issues regarding whitewashing Fei's transformation and such. It is important to see these things and as a good friend of mine always says: you can enjoy something while also being critical of it. And that is very important no matter how devotive to something you actually are.

Anyways, we are being well fed with all the Miraculous content and I will see you all very soon! Also, get some sleep peoples! I know some of you aren't sleeping!

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seoloquent · 3 years ago

Text

project: dance, dance, revolution

summary - you hate that ai robots are beginning to take over the entertainment industry, but you have no choice than to help them. but what if it all didn't turn out to be what you thought it was?

pairing - johnny and fem!reader

genre - strangers-to-lovers!au, robot!au, comedy, fluff

word count - 10.101

warnings - cw! food, there might be some grammatical errors... i'm depending on grammarly on this one

author's note - this is for @pastelsicheng's ai project #14320 collab! this was honestly such a challenge for me since i have been in a writing slump for over two years i believe, but i'm glad it gave me the push i need. i am still super rusty, but i think the dialogue is cute, so i'm happy with it! thank you so much emmy for sharing your great idea with everyone, and i hope you all like it!

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

Johnny AI AU - seoloquent

Kun was terrified.

Despite experiencing your various emotions throughout the five years of being your manager, he has never seen you this angry before. But, honestly speaking, he couldn’t blame you. He’d be just as mad if he found out his boss went behind his back and signed a contract with a company he hated. As much as he could sympathize with you though, Kun just couldn’t get himself to understand why you were so upset about working with LSM Incorporated. If he were in your shoes, he’d be doing backflips off the wall! The amount of exposure, and revenue you are potentially going to be receiving… Kun just does not understand what the problem is.

Although your strides were long and strong, Kun was able to keep up with you while making sure he kept his distance, as if a dark cloud followed behind you. As cautious as he was to not have you blow up at him, he still tried to convince you to not make a scene within the conference room by his desperate protests; in which you kindly ignored. Every single word that left his mouth went through one ear and straight out the other as you paid him no mind. You were in a tunnel vision; the only person you wanted to talk to right now was your boss.

Pushing the door open with much force (that Kun had to catch before it slammed onto the wall behind it), you caught the attention of the CEO of your company, as well as Lee Soo Man of LSM Inc. They flashed pleasant smiles your way, completely oblivious of your angry state.

“Y/N, just the person we wanted to se-”

“Are you serious?!” You slammed the contract papers down on the table, your eyes wide and fierce as they stared into your boss’s eyes.

Your emotions were still fresh from when you first received the signed contract papers from Kun about an hour prior. The feelings of betrayal and violation lingered within you, and the uneasiness it caused made you sick. How could someone lack so much human decency that they justified going behind their employee’s back, an employee that has their trust in them at that, and force them into labor; which they have already voiced that they did not want to do? It baffled you, and you were hurt, as you believed that you and your CEO had a great business relationship. But he took that open communication for granted and took advantage of you.

After realizing that you stormed in with anger rather than excitement, he pursed his lips and looked down at the papers, chuckling to himself. “Oh. So you’re still opposed to the idea.”

You couldn’t believe your ears. “Of course I am!” Your voice rose as your eyes grew bigger. “You never talked to me about it again after the first time; what made you think that I changed my mind?”

“Y/N, I have to get you to notice that you are not the only one signed to this company. This will not only be good exposure for you, but for us as well.” He justified. He kept his voice calm, not only to calm you down but also to keep a professional demeanor in front of his newly established business partner.

“Oh, so you’re doing this for yourself?”

“Of course not! This is for the benefit of not only you, not only me, but for the company as a whole.” Your CEO reasoned. Before you could respond, he cleared his throat and turned to Lee Soo Man. “I’m sorry, but will you excuse us for a moment? I don’t feel comfortable having this conversation in front of you as our partner.”

Normally, you would be embarrassed that you presented this side of yourself in front of a potential partner, but embarrassed in front of Lee Soo Man? You care more about a monkey’s opinion about yourself more than his opinion. Besides, it doesn’t seem like he’s phased by your reaction at all. Strangely enough, when you turned toward the founder of LSM Inc., you realized that his arrogant smile had never left his face since the moment you stormed into the conference room. It gave you chills. He seems so artificial that you wouldn’t be surprised if he turned out to be a robot himself.

After Lee Soo Man gave his, “No problem,” your boss stood up from his seat and escorted you both outside the conference room. The moment the door closed, your boss’s true emotion started to show. His eyes grew wide and his fingers grabbed onto his freshly trimmed strands as he breathed out a heavy breath of frustration. Equally as frustrated, if not more, you crossed your arms and made sure your gaze was unwavering; something you needed to learn after being manipulated many times from past experiences with people who work within the entertainment industry. You stepped your metaphoric foot down. Even if your boss had signed a contract without your acknowledgment, you were not going to do the job. That’s not your signature on the papers.

“Are you crazy Y/N?!” He yelled in a hushed tone, careful to not have anyone overhear your conversation. “How could you act like that in front of him?”

“Do I not have a right to be angry? You sold me away to a robot company Jack, a robot company!” You slapped the back of your hand on your other palm, now physically unable to withhold your emotions.

“I didn’t sell you away, you’re getting paid to do this job.” He spat. Now self-aware of how uncivil and unprofessional he was being, he closed his eyes and took a deep breath to ease his nerves. You are going to get nowhere if you bickered like this, and if you keep it up, he knows he is going to say something he regrets.

Now keeping his tone soft, he revealed, “I chose you because you’re the best for this job.”

“Aren’t there other artists under this label who could do this? I’m sure they’re more willing to work with LSM than I am.” You matched his tone, hoping that this time you could get through to him.

“Those other artists can’t produce the same product as you can.” Jack shook his head disapprovingly. “Listen Y/N, I don’t want to waste any more of Mr. Lee’s time, so I’m going to make this short. I apologize in advance if you find any offense in this, but business is business.” You stared intently into his eyes, in hopes to understand where he was going with his next sentence, but his expression could not be read.

“If you can’t do this job, then I’m afraid that I’ll have to drop you from this label.”

You never knew what people meant by having their hearts drop down to their stomachs until now. You felt as if the wind was knocked out of you, your breath short and shaky and your knees weak. All these years… all this work you put in to make a name not only for yourself but for this company… it baffled you that all that effort could be thrown away so easily, just because of some AI company.

As much as you wanted to keep standing up for yourself and your role in the company, you knew there was no use. Your boss didn’t seem to give you a choice either, seeing that he walked back into the conference room shortly after his bombshell. The only thing you could find yourself doing is laughing bitterly to yourself while shaking your head. What in the world are you going to do now?

***

Maybe it isn’t such a good idea to go to a bar when you’re in a bad mood. The constant noise of chatter and the clinking of glasses did not soothe your nerves one bit. Rather, it made you even more annoyed, and on the brink of yelling out at everyone to just be quiet. Instead of making a fool of yourself in public though, you sat with your head under your arms, forehead resting on the cool surface of the bar. Kun, your designated moral support, sat next to you, tapping his glass of whiskey as he thought of what to say to you.

“So, what are you gonna do?”

That simple yet oh so effective sentence had you throwing your head back and releasing a loud groan. Your reaction had your manager shrugging, his face reading, ‘What did I do?’ You rested your cheeks on the palms of your hands as you thought: ‘What can I do?’

Gazing off into a space of nothing, you replied: “I dunno.” You shook your head, your hands still on either side of your face as you deadpanned. “I have no idea what I’m gonna do.” After a moment, something clicked in your head, and you set your arms down and turned to Kun. “Do you want to bail on them and start a company with me?”

He snorted at the inquiry. “You know we can’t do that! At least not right now. It’s way too last minute.”

You looked down at your arms with a sad expression and sighed. “You’re right.” Not only would it be an impulsive decision, but you had no motivation in you to own a whole entertainment company. “What am I gonna do?!” You cried out, your hands covering your face to hide your shame.

“Hey, hey, hey! Stop the whining!” Kun took your hands away from your face, revealing the pout on your face. “Everything is going to be fine! I’m sure of it.”

Kun, a big pep-talk kind of man, was always ready to reassure you when you were in doubt. And boy was he good at it. You still remember when you were growing anxious before your first big concert at an arena. The staff ran around the whole place frantically trying to find where you ran off to. Thankfully, your trustee manager was able to find your hiding spot, which was beside a vending machine in an empty hallway. His comforting words found a way to ease your speedy heart rate, and clear up your clogged mind. After that day, you knew you could always go to him when you were feeling down or unsure of yourself. He’s a friend you could always lean on.

“How are you so sure?” You asked, your voice so small that he almost missed the question.

“Think about it,” he set his glass to the side and folded his hands together, “this contract is only valid for six months. It’s not like you’re going to be working there forever.”

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes. “I know that; but still! I don’t want to do it at all!”

“You never know what will happen until you try though! You might end up liking it.” He nudged your elbow as he flashed a convincing smile.

“Me? Liking it?” You scoffed. “Kun, do you even know me?”

He pursed his lips and sighed. This situation was foreign to him since he always knew what to say. But now, it seemed like everything he was saying was making the situation worse. He wanted nothing more than for you to feel comfortable, but that mission is basically impossible knowing how much you oppose the AI industry. But still, Kun is a persistent man. He wasn’t going to back down just yet.

Finally, something clicked.

“Actually, your idea doesn’t sound half bad.” You cocked a curious eyebrow, surprised that he brought up something you spurted out carelessly. “Think about it: you’re still your own person. Even though you’re technically bound by a contract doesn’t mean that you can’t make a decision on your own. He did give you the choice to leave.”

You furrowed your eyebrows. “So you’re saying that I should just leave the company?”

He shook his head. “No. What I’m doing is offering a deal. I want you to try to work with LSM for at least three months. If you try it, you might like it! If not, I will quit with you, and we can try to start a company on our own; which I know we both don’t want. But hey, that might be fun too.”

You thought about the proposal for a moment. It wasn’t too much of a bad idea. It was actually quite reasonable. Yeah, you aren’t looking forward to being surrounded by robots and their arrogant creators, but you guess that it’s worth a try. Just for the experience at least.

“I think we have a deal.” You held your hand out.

He took your hand in his and gave it a firm shake.

“Pleasure doing business with you, partner.”

***

You shivered upon entering the entertainment wing of LSM Inc. You were told that the lab would be a bit chilly, which is why you brought a jacket with you, but the cool air still found a way to nip at your skin through the material. You have to say, the lab was not what you expected it to be. Rather than it being some cold, plain science lab, it was made out to be much more casual. Your eyes settled on what looked like a lounge area for the employees, and you watched carefully as they conversed with one another with soft smiles on their faces. Scanning the place even further, you came across capsule areas, in which you assume where the AI robots stayed. As cool as the dome building seemed, you still couldn’t shake off the grudge you had against the company.

“Oh, you’re here!” A man holding a clipboard exclaimed. He ran over to you and Kun, flashing a bright smile. “Mr. Lee told me that we were to be expecting you both. I was hoping to greet you at the main lobby entrance, but I got caught up in another situation, so I apologize. My name is Kim Doyoung, I’ll be your guide for the day.” He politely held his hand out, and you shook it while replying with a small, “Hello.”

“We’re pleased to have you here with us Ms. Y/N. Please, follow me.” He motioned both of you to follow him. “I must say, I’m a huge fan of your music. I’m really happy that you decided to work with us for the next comeback.”

“Oh. Don’t mention it.” You shook your head while smiling slightly.

As Doyoung lead you to wherever he was leading you, he pointed out different areas to help you grow familiar with the lab. You learned that they have many recording and dance studios like regular companies do. You couldn’t help but wonder why, since they could just be programmed to sing the songs, but you didn’t bother to ask.

Finally, Doyoung stopped at a station, but his bright expression was replaced by a puzzled one. He looked around as if he were looking for someone. You, on the other hand, couldn’t help but stare at what stood before you. The tall human-like… thing, stared right back at you with a neutral expression. It gave you chills how real he seemed; like he could walk past you on the street and you wouldn’t bat an eye. Despite how anxious it made you feel, your curiosity outweighed that emotion, and you inched closer to get a better look.

Your tour guide caught you eyeing the bot, and that smile found its way back onto his face. He heard that you might be a bit opposed to working with the AI’s, so he was glad to find you expressing some sort of interest in their prized possession.

“He’s so human-” As if in a trance, you reached out a hand to touch the robot, but it suddenly stepped back just before you got to it.

“I’m sorry, but physical touch is not allowed unless permitted.” The robot announced before flashing a commercial smile.

Doyoung’s chuckled beside you. “For the safety of our bots, we have prohibited anyone from touching them.” He leaned in to add, “Too many fans at fansigns got touchy-feely.” He shook his head disapprovingly.

“Eager to get a feel of my bot already?” You heard a voice from behind you.

When you turned around, you felt as though you got whiplash. The man standing behind you looked identical to the robot standing before you. The only difference was that the robot had blonde short hair and was styled in fancy clothing whilst the man had long brown hair and didn’t seem to care much about what he had on. He had his hands in the pockets of his gray sweatpants, a sly smirk plastered on his face.

“You’re late.” Doyoung deadpanned.

“I’m not late, I was taking a nap in the Pod, and nobody cared enough to wake me up!” The mystery man shrugged.

Finally, you snapped back into reality, but you still had to verify that what you were seeing was real. When you finally accepted what was going on, you couldn’t help but laugh.

“How cute.” You snickered to yourself.

A puzzled expression masked the mystery man’s face. “What’s cute?”

“What is this? The Man and the Muppet?” Your comment had Kun nudging your arm and shooting you a warning look to which you responded with an apologetic gaze.

Not giving the mystery man any time to respond (merely because he does not have the patience), Doyoung spoke up. “This is Suh Youngho, he’s the head AI Developer of our department. He’s the creator of #S127.” Youngho put his hands behind his back and bowed as his greeting.

“I’m guessing his name is Youngho as well?” You pointed to the robot, still standing expressionless.

“He wishes, but no, we call him Johnny!” Youngho swung an arm over his identical twin of a robot, smiling brightly. “After a long and hard fight for it, he will be releasing his first solo album this year.” He wiped a fake tear from under his eye. “Johnny here is my firstborn, so this is going to be really special.”

“And you’re going to help us make it very special!” Doyoung cheered.

“Actually, speaking of that, what exactly am I supposed to be doing? Wouldn’t it just be easier for me to give you guys a demo and you program him to sing it or something?” You asked.

Doyoung was quick to answer. “That would defeat the purpose of AI robots actually! The thing is, they’re supposed to learn to adapt to certain environments, like we do! So they learn how to sing songs and how to dance complex choreography just like we do.”

This time, Kun was the one to ask a question. “Aren’t you guys just putting more work upon yourself?”

“Yes, and no,” Youngho started, “It’s like a domino effect. The more work we give our bots means more research that needs to be done. The more research that is done, means there’s more data we get. The more data we get means a more refined bot, and then it loops.” Kun opened his mouth in an ‘ah’ shape and nodded his head after the explanation. “Hopefully we can get this bad boy to the point where we don’t have to do any more research and he can be a successful artist on his own.”

Even though this was all very interesting, you still couldn’t help but still be opposed to the thought of helping a robot making it in the entertainment industry. You caught a glimpse of the future as you fell into a daydream: AI’s getting a full sweep in wins at big music award shows, discrediting those who actually put their heart and soul into their work. Robots don’t have a heart, nor do they have a soul. Even if they do seem to “work hard,” they will never be on the same level as a human artist. It just won’t be fair, but what even is fair these days?

“So, to answer your question, we need Johnny to learn what it’s like to be a true singer-slash-songwriter. And to achieve that, he’ll be staying with you for the duration of the six months before his solo debut.” Doyoung’s words snapped you out of your daydream and you turned to him with furrowed brows.

“Oh, so this is going to be like ‘Take your robot to work day’ or something? But just for six months instead?” You questioned.

Doyoung looked up as he thought, nodding and shrugging seconds afterward. “Well, yes, but we were hoping that Johnny could get the full package. We planned for him to stay with you 24/7 so that he could really get a feel of your creative process.”

You did a double-take, eyes wide and mouth agape showcasing your shock.

“E-Excuse me? You mean to say that he will be… living with me?” You spoke low and slow, scared of the obvious answer.

You didn’t see anything about this in the contract papers; not that you read it anyway since you weren’t the one who signed them; but still! You could feel your heart race as you thought of him living in your apartment, those brown soulless eyes studying every move you made. The vision made you shudder.

“Affirmative.” Youngho nodded firmly.

Your heart wanted to burst out of your chest. “I’m sorry, but can you guys excuse us for a moment? I need to speak with my manager in private.” You said just before taking Kun’s hand and dragging him somewhere where the two scientists wouldn’t be able to hear your conversation.

“I’m living with the robot?!” You whisper yelled, careful to not have anyone nearby hear your anguish.

“In my defense, I had no idea about this.” Kun shook his head with his hands up.

You paced back and forth as you panicked. You lifted your hands, but not knowing what to do with them, you just clenched them into a fist. It seemed like your life was spiraling out of your control. Nothing is going your way, and it is driving you insane. You need to get your life back in order fast. If not, who knows what will happen?

“I swear, if he wasn’t the one paying me, I would kill Jack right now.” You grumbled.

“Hey, it’s not like Johnny is a real guy. I doubt he would try to do anything to hurt you.” Kun tried his best to reassure you, but it was not doing much to help.

“You don’t know that! We don’t know what those guys are capable of!” You pointed toward Doyoung and Youngho. “That Doyoung guy is nice, but I don’t know if I can trust him. And Youngho seems like he’s gonna be a handful.” You stared at the said man as he and Doyoung bickered, probably about him being late again.

Kun turned his head to see the two men bickering, and the only thing he could do was chuckle. “I think they should be the least of your worries.” His comment made you sigh deeply. “You’ll be fine, I promise you!” He put his hands on your arms to steady you, but you avoided his gaze as you stared down at your feet with a pout on your face. “You know I’m always on speed dial if you need me.”

You nodded your head, still avoiding his gaze.

“Hey,” his call made your eyes meet his. “If all goes wrong, we can always dump a bucket of water over ‘em.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at the comment. “Yeah, and then we’ll get sued and possibly go to jail.”

Kun smacked his lips and said, “Eh, I’m sure they’ll be able to fix the guy. A little water can’t do that much damage.” He stepped back and shoved his hands into his pockets. After a small moment of silence, he kicked your shoe gently. “So what do you say? You’re still gonna do it, or no?”

A groan erupted from your chest, and you brought your hands down your face out of frustration. You really don’t want to do this, but a deal is a deal.

“Three months. I’m giving three months.”

“That’s my girl!”

***

You found yourself pacing around your apartment in the early morning. It has been about a week since you first spoke with LSM Inc. From this day forward for the next six months (or three months you hoped), Johnny would be shadowing you at all times. You were a nervous wreck since you didn’t know what to expect from living with a robot. What if he suddenly malfunctioned and they blamed it on you? You can’t handle this type of responsibility. Or what if he malfunctioned and started acting violently toward you?

“Snap out of it!” You whisper yelled at yourself, hitting your temple with your knuckles. You always tend to scare yourself when you’re nervous. Everyone you have spoken to about this matter has told you that you had nothing to worry about, so you made it your goal to not worry. But why is it so hard?

DING!

You swore your heart jumped out of your chest when your doorbell suddenly sounded throughout your home. As much as you wanted your heart rate to calm down, it only began to race faster the closer you got to your door. When your hand touched the gold knob, you closed your eyes and took a deep breath, then you finally opened the door.

Two identical men stood before you, flashing the same bright smile.

“Good morning to you!” Youngho greeted you cheerfully, to which you replied with a dazed “Morning,” before allowing them inside.

You eyed the two men as they entered your living room, confused as to why they were the only ones here. “Where is Mr. Kim?”

Youngho cocked an eyebrow before turning around to face you. “Who?”

“Your coworker. Doyoung, I believe his name is?” You answered.

“Oh!” He let out a hearty laugh. “You don’t have to call him that, it makes him sound old. And I’m older than him, so that kind of hurts my feelings.” He joked, but the only thing you could find yourself doing was nodding your head and looking away.

Sensing your discomfort, he cleared his throat before answering your question. “He’s busy back at the lab. I’m here to make sure John is all set before I leave him in your care.” You winced at his words. It only added to the overwhelming weight on your shoulders.

“Why do you ask? Did you grow fond of him already?” He slung his backpack from around his shoulder onto the floor. You peeked inside when he zipped it open, finding wires bunched inside.

“Uh, no, I wouldn’t say that.” You let out a nervous laugh. “I just find it a bit overwhelming with only you two here.”

A smirk grew on his face. “So, you’re overwhelmed by my great looks huh?” He flipped his hair and shrugged as if it was inevitable to be starstruck by him.

“I look exactly like you,” Johnny spoke for the first time since entering your home.

You had to hold back a laugh at the sudden comment, and Youngho’s reaction didn’t make it any easier.

“So? You’re inspired by me, so therefore I take the credit of our looks!” He stuck his nose up in Johnny’s face. When the scientist turned back toward you, he realized you were holding back a laugh as your pursed your lips and looked away. “What? You find this funny?”

You put your hand up and shook your head. “No, no.”

Youngho was happy to find you in a better mood than when you first met. Sure, you’re still on the shy side, but at least you’re laughing instead of frowning like the first time. He heard that you weren’t exactly on board with working with LSM, so he made it his goal to have this be an enjoyable experience for you. He hopes that one day your negative opinions about AI’s would change. They’re as special to him as music is to you.

“I need to set up Johnny’s things. Is it okay if you tell me where he’s allowed to sleep?” Youngho asked.

You tilted your head to the side, a puzzled expression finding its way on your face. “He sleeps?”

“Yeah!” Youngho nodded simply. “It’s like setting your computer on sleep mode. Machines need rest as much as we do. Johnny here is a hardworking man, he deserves to sleep.”

You supposed he was right. He might break easier if his gears were running constantly. Plus, he was made to function as a human, but you didn’t know that it was to this extent. To say the least, you were impressed at the attention to detail.

You motioned the two to your guest bedroom, and immediately Youngho got to work. Johnny stood next to you as the both of you spectated Youngho’s work, but you were shortly distracted by the robot.

You peered up at the tall machine with a curious gaze, and he turned to you with a kind smile.

“So, I’m not sure if this is an inappropriate question or not, but I’m curious.” Johnny nodded for you to go on. “Should I, like… talk to you like Siri? Or can I talk to you like a normal person?”

You were startled to hear Youngho’s loud snort in the corner of the room, but instead of him being the one to answer, Johnny did.

“You can talk to me like a normal person, don’t worry.” Johnny shook his head. “If it makes you comfortable, you can view me as a human if you’d like. I’m not that much different than you actually. We’re just wired differently.”

“Hey,” Youngho’s stern voice caught both of your attention. “Be proud of who you are, whether you are a human or robot. We’ve been through this John.”

Johnny nodded. “Right, right. My apologies.”

Youngho hated it when Johnny tried to tell others to view him as a human. Not because he believed that Johnny was trying to fool people, but because being a robot is his identity, and he should be proud of that. Sure, it’s not likely that Johnny could feel the feeling of pride, but Youngho could tell that Johnny was insecure. It worried him, but he didn’t want to tap into his database to change anything since he wants Johnny to be as authentic as possible. So for now, Youngho is keeping track of Johnny’s growth as an AI person.

Soon, Youngho was finished with setting up Johnny’s station. In the corner of the guestroom stood a white podium with a screen built in the middle of it. He let out a deep breath of satisfaction as he stepped back and dusted his hands off.

Before you could ask what it was, Youngho was already answering your unspoken question. “This is Johnny’s Communication Center. Every night he’ll have to transfer data from his system so that we’ll know what he’s been up to and see if he’s made any improvements. That’s if he’s not with me at the lab.” Suddenly, his face grew serious. “For legal reasons, I have to let you know that this station is strictly off-limits. There’s confidential information in here that belongs to LSM Inc.”

Even though you were curious, the last thing you wanted to do was get involved with the law, so you took note of his warning. Hopefully, it isn’t something regarding the invasion of privacy.

You shook your head before you could scare yourself even further. Positive thoughts. Think positive thoughts.

“Alright, on that note, I think my work here is done!” Youngho announced. “Can I talk with you in private?” He asked suddenly, pointing a finger at you.

“Me?” You had to double-check whether he was really talking to you or not. He chuckled as he nodded his head, confirming your wonders. “Oh, okay.”

You followed the man out of the room, leaving Johnny to check out the place he’ll be living in for the next few months.

After the two of you reached your living room, Youngho began to speak. “Hey, so, I really want to thank you for working with us on this project. I heard that you’re not the biggest fan of AI’s, so I was surprised to hear you signed the contract.”

You held back from rolling your eyes as the memories of your boss came up. “It’s not like I really had a choice.” You smiled softly and shook your head.

He tilted his head in confusion. “What do you mean by that?”

You tensed up when you realized what you just said. As much as you did not want to do this job, you made it your goal to remain as professional as possible for the sake of your reputation. After working in the entertainment industry for some years, you learned to keep your personal feelings apart from your job. If- no, when you do end up quitting the job after three months, at least LSM won’t be able to say anything negative about you.

Refraining from explaining yourself, you shook your head once more. “Nevermind what I said. Johnny will be safe in my care!”

Youngho pouted, his eyes scanning your face. He wanted you to elaborate, but he had no time to talk further. He needed to get back to the lab.

“Well, I hope so. Call me if you need anything. I need to get going.”

Nodding, you waved goodbye to him before seeing him off. Your feet ended up taking you back to your guest bedroom, where you found Johnny sitting at the end of the bed, staring at the wall in front of him. You caught his attention after you cleared your throat, and instead of staring at you with that lifeless gaze, he smiled brightly.

You mustered up the courage to walk up to him, still stopping some feet away though. Crossing your arms, you tried to think of what to say. While you thought, he examined your face, trying his best to read your expression so he to could come up with something to talk about. The silence was awkward for you, but Johnny never sensed the discomfort. He was happy to be here with you. You are the gold coin on his road to success, so he decided to cherish you.

“So… it’s quite early and I usually don’t head to the studio until the evening. Is there anything you wanted to do?” You asked.

“There isn’t anything I can think of…” he shrugged his shoulders.

Suddenly, your stomach grumbled and your hand covered it as a reflex. You were so nervous this morning that you didn’t have much of an appetite, but hunger was catching up to you now.

“I didn’t have breakfast yet.” You laughed nervously. “Are you… able to eat anything?” You felt weird asking such a question since he’s a robot after all, but who knows what he can and cannot do? Technology is so advanced these days. Besides, isn’t he made to live like a human anyway?

In all truthfulness though, Johnny isn’t allowed to eat-- sometimes. In special cases, he can nibble on a snack, but eating a full course meal was a no-go. But Johnny was aware of your discomfort of being with him, and he was determined to make you feel the opposite. As long as he doesn’t clog his gears, taking the risk should be okay.

“I know of this breakfast house Youngho likes to go to every now and then. Do you want to go there?”

Your face lit up at the suggestion. You were more excited at the thought of being around others rather than eating. Being in the house alone with Johnny was really starting to suffocate you, and you needed out immediately. Maybe some fresh air and being surrounded by humans will make you feel somewhat better.

The two of you were quick to leave the apartment after you accepted the offer. Johnny led the way to the restaurant, and on your way, he let you know that it was not far from your home. Come to find out, it was within walking distance. You wondered how you never noticed the humble breakfast house, but after thinking about it for a while, you realized that you are always on the go. Ever since you moved to your apartment, you never took the time to stop and get to know your surroundings.

“What’s wrong?” Johnny’s question snapped you out of your thoughts.

“Huh? Oh… nothing, just thinking.” Finally, you noticed that you were standing in front of the restaurant. “Let’s head inside.”

Surprisingly, Johnny was easy to talk to. Even though he had somewhat awkward responses to your questions, it was never boring or dry. You got to know about his life in the lab, and even how Youngho decided to grow his hair out because people mistook him for Johnny so many times. His story was so interesting, and it kept you on your toes, itching to hear more. It was beyond what you could ever imagine.

“So what is your goal?” You suddenly asked.

He tilted his head in curiosity. “Can you elaborate for me please?”

“You know, like what’s your goal as a singer? Or even just as a living being?”

He sat back in his seat as he pondered on the simple, yet deep question. It’s something he’s never had time to think about. Actually, it’s something he never considered thinking about. Ever since he was first powered up, he has always been working. But working towards what, is the question he began to ask himself.

“I… honestly don’t know.” He shook his head after moments of thinking.

“Really?” Your eyes grew wide at his response. “If that’s the case, then why do you expect to learn how to write music? You need to have some desire or passion to do so.”

He crossed his arm over his chest and rested his chin on his other hand. “I guess you’re right… But how do I find out what my goal is?”

You shrugged your shoulders. “What are you living for? What’s your purpose? You have to ask yourself these types of questions.”

It worried Johnny that he didn’t have a passion despite calling himself a music artist. But he knew he needed to figure it out fast because he really does want to be successful in this field. But is there anything really to work for being the person he is?

***

The next day, you were back at the lab for Johnny’s first checkup. The first night at the studio was not a success, which wasn’t surprising considering that he had nothing to write about. This was exactly what you were afraid of. No matter how busy he might be, he hasn’t gotten the real human experience, so what really can he write about? Hard drives and wires?

“Hey Babysitter!” Youngho greeted you cheerfully after spotting you and Johnny some feet away.

You furrowed your eyebrows. “Babysitter?”

“Yeah, you are taking care of my kid after all.” He laughed, ruffling Johnny’s hair, to which Johnny slapped his hand away. “How was the first day?”

You sighed deeply, thinking about yesterday’s events. “It went okay, but we made no progress in the studio.”

Youngho smacked his lips. “Well, that’s alright. We still have six months ahead of us. There’s still time left.”

“That’s true.” You nodded your head. “But on the bright side, Johnny treated me to the best breakfast I had in a while! So brownie points for that.”

Your words came out too fast for Johnny to stop you. He froze, his hand slapping his mouth in shock. He is dead meat.

“He didn’t eat with you, did he?” Youngho blinked at you. Sensing the tension in the air, you nodded slowly, but kept your mouth shut. “Oh my-” Youngho stepped back as if he was about to faint.

He clenched his fist against his forehead and squeezed his eyes shut. You felt like you did something wrong, but you just couldn’t figure out what. You were sure Johnny would tell you if you did.

“Johnny, just head to the back, okay?” Youngho said, his eyes still closed.

“Yes sir.” Johnny rushed away without another word.

“Did I do something wrong...?” You asked shyly.

“No you didn’t, don’t worry.” Youngho sighed. “He knows better. If he eats too much he could clog his gears. But mostly, I just hate cleaning him out, it’s so tedious!” He groaned at the thought of all the clumps of food he has to take out.

“Oh my gosh! I wouldn’t have let him if I have known!” You exclaimed.

Youngho shook his head. “It’s okay, you didn’t know. He seems to be functioning well, so he should be fine.”

You were worried at the thought of Johnny breaking while under your supervision. Imagine getting sued by a company that handles AI’s? Your life would be over! You can’t let that happen, you won’t allow it to happen.

“Is there any way for me to know if he’s okay or not? Like does he feel pain or no?” You asked. You needed to know just in case you had to rush back to the lab if anything happens. You’re not going to be the blame for anything.

“Yes, and no.” Youngho went on to explain. “He can feel you if you tap him on the shoulder, but if you punch him, it’ll still feel like a mere tap. But the only time he does feel pain is when something in his system malfunctions.” You tilted your head, still not catching on. He found your expression cute, and he couldn’t hold back a smile. “Just think about it: when you’re using your phone, it can feel your taps as you scroll. But if you drop it on the ground, you don’t hear it screaming out in pain.”

“Ah, I think I get it now!” You nodded your head fervently.

“Right! But we did program him to feel some type of pain just so we will know if something wrong is happening to the important parts.”

“That makes a lot of sense… Man, you guys really have it all laid out huh?” You couldn’t help but be impressed at the amount of thought that went into creating Johnny.

“Yeah, well, it’s nothing much.” Johnny shoved his hands in his pockets as he shrugged nonchalantly. As laid back as he was acting, nothing could hide the blush that crept onto his face. He’s a sucker for people acknowledging his work.

“Well, as much as I want to argue with you about that, I have to get to my schedule! Kun is waiting for me outside and I can’t keep him waiting. I’ll be back soon!” You waved as you began to walk away.

Youngho waved back to you as he watched you exit the lab. He sighed to himself, not knowing what he was going to do with Johnny. But knowing that it is best to get the job done now rather than later, Youngho dragged his feet to the operation room where Johnny would be waiting.

Johnny tensed up once Youngho entered the room, and he avoided eye contact in hopes he wouldn’t blow up at him. Thankfully, Youngho didn’t have the energy to yell.

“Why did you do that?” The scientist asked simply.

“She was uncomfortable and hungry, so it was the only thing I could think of.” Johnny justified his past actions, but Youngho wasn’t having any of it.

“Let’s just get this over with, and then we’ll check your data.” Youngho sighed as he started to prep for the cleanup.

“Wait, wait! I have a question.” Johnny stopped him. “Do you have a goal?”

Youngho was taken aback by the sudden question. “Yes… I think so? I guess it depends on what the goal is for.” He wasn’t very sure if he had a set goal, but he did know that he is satisfied where he is right at this moment. The only thing he is concerned about is making sure #S127 remains on the rise.

“Do you think… I’m able to have a goal?”

“You can have the goal of winning a Grammy!” Youngho suggested.

Johnny scoffed. “Well, yeah, but I’m talking about for myself. Am I able to find a goal or a passion at least for myself?”

Youngho blinked at his robot. He was at a loss for words. It seems like a simple yes or no question, but there are levels to it. The right answer to this question was up in the air somewhere, and Youngho was finding a hard time finding it. What in the world did you do to his bot?

“I’m sure you can if you put your mind to it,” Youngho answered. He grabbed his phone and began texting you, suggesting that the two of you grab coffee when you get back to the lab. He needed to talk to you to figure out the meaning behind Johnny’s words.

Some hours later, you were at a Starbucks near the lab sitting across from Youngho. You were nervous you did something bad after all, but you couldn’t get yourself to figure out what you’ve done. But thankfully, Johnny was the first to speak.

“So, Johnny asked me a question that kind of shocked me. I’m supposing you asked him the same question yesterday.” He began.

“What question are you talking about?” You asked.

“If he has a goal. He’s been thinking about it really hard.”

You felt as if a huge weight was lifted off your shoulders. You thought of something way worse, even though you talked to Johnny a handful of times yesterday, and the conversations the two of you had were never bad or questionable. Your nervousness always found a way to get to you still.

“Well yeah! He needs to have a passion in order to be a real artist. And to have a passion, he needs to have a goal.” You nodded.

“Are you sure he can have a passion? He’s a robot.”

You were surprised at his response. “Aren’t you the one who created him? I thought you would know this! Writing songs isn’t just jotting down words on a piece of paper you know. It’s much more to it than that.”

Youngho sighed. You’re right, and it bothered him. It’s not you that he’s bothered by, but the fact that he really doesn’t have everything figured out. He’s so used to being a genius and having questions answered before people could even ask them, but the fact that he doesn’t have an answer prepared for something as simple as this messed with his head. How did he expect to make a successful idol group if his idols can’t even write music on their own?

“I could always just give you a song to use.” You suggested.

“No, I don’t want that,” Youngho answered quickly. “We do that every comeback. We need to actually make some improvements.”

You took a sip of your coffee as you watched Youngho try to figure out what to do. You knew Johnny writing his own song was too good to be true, but you have to admit, there is a part of you that believes in him. If he can read and understand human emotion, there are chances for him to be able to write a decent song.

“What was your purpose in making Johnny and the other guys in the group?” You asked suddenly.

Youngho frowned at the memories that came up in his mind. “I actually didn’t create Johnny and the others to be idol singers.” You furrowed your eyebrows at the bombshell. “I actually intended for them to be soldiers.”

Your jaw dropped. You would have never thought of #S127 fighting in a war. It’s a complete 180 from what they are doing right now.

“What made you change your mind?!” To say you were shocked would be an understatement.

“I didn’t change my mind.” He laughed. “The government rejected my offer, but they told me about LSM Inc. and now here I am. Lee Soo Man suggested that I use my bots to make an idol group, and I wanted nothing to do with it. But it was either I make a group, or be broke with robots that have no purpose.”

So he was in a similar situation that you’re in right now. It made you feel happy to see that he seems to enjoy his current circumstances, but still, you can’t get yourself to accept that you have to share competition with AIs who can’t even figure out how to write a song on their own. Despite that, you were growing fond of Johnny, and you wanted him to be able to find his passion. He’s the only AI you would allow to win.

“I would have never thought of Johnny being a soldier.” You laughed, shaking your head. “Considering that this is your current circumstance, you need to figure out if they’re able to create their own goals for themselves. I understand the base goal is to win awards at big music shows and hit the charts, but there needs to be a better foundation.”

Youngho couldn’t help but admire you as you gave your advice. Not only are you beautiful, but you’re thoughtful, and the more you spoke, the more it attracted him to you. Where were you when he needed you the most? The company has worked with so many different artists before you, but you’re the only one that is actually helping. He just wanted to take you into his arms and thank you repeatedly at this moment.

From here on out, Youngho was determined to find out what Johnny’s goal is. Whether it is impossible or not, he is going to make sure Johnny becomes the best songwriter there is.

***

The three months had gone by before you knew it, and in all honesty, you didn’t want to quit the job. Johnny and you had grown closer the more you worked together, and you enjoyed seeing his progress as he worked to become a better and more authentic writer. And Youngho and you also hit it off very well, becoming closer friends the more you talked. You also realized that you were catching feelings for the scientist, but you ignored it, believing that it was nothing but a simple crush. ‘It will pass overtime,’ you would tell yourself.

Kun on the other hand did nothing to remind you of the deal that you made with him since he knew you forgot about it. He enjoyed seeing you have fun made him happy, he never liked seeing you in a sour mood. He too has gotten close with Youngho as well after going out drinking with him and Doyoung several times. Just like tonight.

This time, you decided to join the guys tonight for drinks at the bar. Once you found out Kun was hanging out with the two scientists, you felt left out and invited yourself to the next outing. It wasn’t like they minded though since they love your company.

“So, I heard that you don’t really like AI’s Y/N. Can I ask you why that is?” Doyoung asked.

You poked your lip out as you thought. “Well, it’s mainly because nothing they do feels true to me. It’s all programmed. Not only that, but they’re slowly taking over our jobs. I’m not exactly comfortable with that.”

Youngho shook his head. “I get what you’re saying, but that’s not necessarily true. AI’s, at least the ones we make at LSM, is made to function like humans. So everything they do is learned after we establish a little bit of a foundation we put in their program. And there are still significantly more humans who have jobs than AI’s, but I do get your concern.”

What he said had you thinking. You supposed he was right, but you still felt so odd about it. But you figured it’s just something that you’re going to have to learn to accept as time goes on. The only AI you trust is Johnny, and that’s all that matters to you right now.

“You might be right, but it’s going to take me some time to get used to them. I like Johnny at least.” You shrugged.

“And that’s all I need to hear.” Youngho smiled widely.

You giggled at his antics. “Excuse me, I need to go to the bathroom really quickly. I’ll be back. Don’t buy any more drinks without me!”

“No promises!” Kun called after you, laughing afterward.

Youngho tapped his glass, trying to decide whether the question he has is worth asking or not. But he needed to muster up the courage since it’s an important question. For him at least.

“Hey, Kun, I have a question.” Youngho started.

“Hit me.” Kun nodded.

“Do you… like Y/N?”

Kun threw his head back in laughter. “What?! Where did that come from?”

Youngho could only scratch the back of his neck and let out a small laugh. He was embarrassed, but it’s something he has been wondering about forever now.

“He’s been waiting to ask that question for ages!” Doyoung exclaimed. “He wouldn’t stop bugging me about it.”

“Well, to answer your question, no I don’t. She’s like a sister to me.” Kun shook his head simply. “You should ask her out on a date. I’m sure she’d like that.”

Youngho shook his head fervently. “I don’t know if I can do that. Not right now at least.”

“You never know until you do it.” Doyoung sing-songed. Kun couldn’t help but laugh.

“Shut up, she’s coming back!” Youngho whisper yelled.

For the rest of the night, Youngho thought about you as the four of you enjoyed more drinks. He knew he had feelings for you, but he wasn’t sure if you felt the same as he did. For now, he just wanted to take more time to read your actions before he let you know of his feelings. He needs time to muster up the courage.

The four of you decided to end the night after realizing how tipsy you have gotten. Kun realized that you had a packed schedule the next day, so they needed to get you home immediately. He already knew you were going to regret it later on.

Kun had made sure you got up to your apartment safely. You stopped him at the door, saying that you could get in the house yourself, and just go home. He at least opened the door for you before leaving, hoping that you’ll get to bed right away rather than finding things to do around the house.

When you entered your home, you began to drag your feet toward your room, that was until Johnny stopped you in the hallway.

He leaned forward and sniffed. “Were you drinking?”

You giggled. “Yeah, I was.”

“You might want to get to bed. We have a long day tomorrow.” Johnny pouted at your condition. Looking at how you were, you for sure were going to experience a hand hangover in the morning.

“Yeah, yeah, I will.” You waved him off. You stepped forward to start going to your room, but you paused and stepped back. You looked up at Johnny and sucked in a sharp breath as you thought. “You look a lot like Youngho.”

Johnny blinked, confused at the sudden revelation. “I am aware of that.”

You narrowed your eyes at him. “Are you just saying that because you are Youngho? Are you trying to fool me?” You poked your finger into his chest.

“No…” Johnny wasn’t sure how to respond to your absurd words. He’s never been in this situation before.

“Well, Youngho, goodnight. I will see you tomorrow.” You smiled at him. Rather than leaving, you stood there, staring up at who you believed to be Youngho through your heavy eyelids. Suddenly you got on your toes and pecked his lips softly. “Rest well Youngho.”

Johnny stood in shock after you left to your room. What was he going to tell Youngho? He has never allowed this to happen before. The kiss was so unexpected that he couldn’t dodge it! He hoped he wouldn't get in trouble.

The next day, Johnny was at the lab for the daily check-in.

“How was the night at the Babysitter’s?” Youngho asked as he plugged Johnny’s chip into his computer to retrieve yesterday’s data.

“She kissed me.” Johnny found himself blurting.

“She what?!” Youngho squeaked.

“She kissed me.” He repeated.

Youngho couldn’t believe his ears. He shook his head, slapping his hand on his forehead. “Huh?!”

“She kissed me—“

“I heard you the first two times!” Youngho yelled.

Youngho suddenly turned around to his computer and rushed to retrieve any video data if there were any. And there was. The camera hidden behind Johnny’s eyes wasn’t always on, but they only started recording if Johnny felt that he needed to. Youngho played the video, nervous about what he’s about to see. But all that worry washed away after seeing your drunken smile. Seeing you kiss his robot amused him more than he thought, as he couldn’t help but snort and laugh hysterically at what he just watched. It was something he never thought he would see or even hear about.

“She thought I was you,” Johnny revealed, which shut Youngho’s laughter up.

“W-Wait, really?” He was shocked.

“Yeah. She kept calling me Youngho.” Johnny nodded. “I think she likes you.”

A blush crept up Youngho’s neck, and he couldn’t hold back the grin on his face. Knowing that you had the same feelings he currently has sent him over the moon. He just wished you kissed him rather than his lookalike.

Youngho waited until the evening to talk to you so that you were free from all your schedules. The two of you spoke at the convenience store near your apartment, enjoying a canned beverage.

“So… Johnny found out what his goal is,” Youngho revealed.

You gasped, clapping your hand over your mouth. “For real? What is it?” You were slightly disappointed that you didn’t know what it was first since you’re the one that is with him most of the time, but you could care less since the whole point is that he knows what he’s working for now.

“Well, his goal is to gain more of a human understanding. He wants to be able to truly write a song. And he found a passion in… people, to simply put it.” Youngho chuckled. “He talks more and asks more questions than he has ever had before.”

“That’s great! I’m so glad, I was really rooting for him.” You cooed.

“I just want to thank you so much. He has been making so much improvement since he started working with you. You really helped us out. You helped him out.” Youngho smiled softly.

“Oh it’s no biggie. I’m glad I was of some help.” You laughed. “He’s the one who did most of the work, so the credit should go to him.”

“I’m supposing that’s why you kissed him then? Because you’re proud of him?” Youngho asked suddenly, a playful smirk on his face.

“What?” Your eyes grew wide in shock. “I kissed him?”

Youngho’s cackles filled the air. “You don’t remember? Ah, I suppose you wouldn’t since you were so drunk last night. Johnny told me you thought he was I, and you kissed him.”

Your fingertips touched your lips after the memories started coming back to you. “Oh my gosh!” You groaned, dragging your hands down your face. “This is so embarrassing!”

“Don’t be embarrassed! Actually, I’m quite flattered.” Youngho reassured you. “Just be sure to kiss me next time.”

You brought your hands down from your face so you could get a good look at his expression. You had to figure out whether he was joking or not.

And to answer your unspoken question, he cupped your cheek with his hand and placed a soft kiss on your lips.

“Please tell me this feeling is mutual.” You whispered.

Youngho chuckled, poking your nose as he sat back in his seat.

“Don’t worry. I want you to be mine as much as you want me to be yours. You have me baby.”

#nct #nct 127 #nct scenarios #johnny suh #johnny #nct u #nct imagines #kpop scenarios #kpop imagines #johnny imagines #johnny x reader #johnny scenarios #johnny drabbles #johnny seo #johnny fluff

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young-dumb-and-vaccinated · 3 years ago

Text

Cult Girl: Doctorate (Hannibal x Female!Reader) pt. 2

Oils

Cult girl socializes at the opera and receives an unexpected call.

Note: I tagged this as “anti mlm” as in multi-level marketing and not men-loving-men.

Trigger warnings: Discussions of cults and emotional manipulation

It wasn't until after the opera was over that people began to notice you may have had a little fun during intermission. Hannibal's hair wasn't in its usual perfect side part and his jacket was slightly wrinkled in places. You could cover most of his love bites with your stole, but nothing could hide that post-orgasm glow.

Most opera-goers stayed to socialize for hours after the show concluded, making an already long night even longer. It was like clubbing, but for rich old people.

"So you're the future Mrs. Hannibal Lecter?" A woman with silvery hair said. She dragged her husband into the conversation by the arm. "I've heard so much about you."

You were about to say something witty, but noticed the way she was looking at you. Scanning you up and down. Looking for anything out of place to grill you about.

"Only good things, I hope." Hannibal said in your silence. His voice was vaguely threatening. "She is a doctoral student, in her second year of her graduate studies in clinical psychology."

The husband, who, up to this point, hadn't spoken a word, perked up. "Is that right?"

You smiled, excited for the chance to talk about your passion. "Yes sir. I've still got quite a ways to go, but I love my work."

"You should be proud." The man praised, looking at Hannibal. "You've got yourself an ambitious wife."

"Oh, we're not married yet." You corrected.

"So when can we expect an invitation?" The woman asked.

"Six months from now, isn't it?" Hannibal answered. "Memorial day weekend. Then I'm taking her to Italy for a lengthy honeymoon."

The woman threw her head back and sighed. "That sounds heavenly."

"You young modern girls are always so intuitive." The man commented. "I'll bet you tricked him into marrying you."

You wanted to call this guy out for his sexist bullshit, but he wasn't far off. It was Hannibal who tricked you, though.

Technically, he proposed to you within the first six months. You just didn't know it. It took until shockingly recently to find out.

It was during a ballroom dancing lesson of all places. You were sweaty, but loved the feeling of your lover's hands gently guiding your movements. You stepped away from the lesson to get some water, and innocently asked when he would propose to you.

"I believe I already did." He said with enough conviction to blur the lines of seriousness and sarcasm.

"You pretended to." You corrected. "Remember? We were just pretending to be engaged for Anna's wedding."

"But it didn't end after the wedding, did it?" He observed. "You kept calling me your fiancé long after that weekend passed."

You paused, then threw your head back in exasperation. "Oh my god, Hannibal."

Hannibal laughed. "I told you. Someday it won't be a lie."

"You're a piece of shit, you know that?" You pressed your fingers to your temples. "So we've been engaged this whole time?"

"What can I say?" He said, gently. "I knew you were my one and only even then. It was just a matter of circumventing your inhibitions."

"I'm not complaining." You folded your arms. "But a little notice would have been nice."

"Well, if you insist." He laced his fingers between his own. "[F/N] [L/N]. Will you be my wife?"

Even though the question was truly just a formality, you were still as giddy as a schoolgirl to hear those words.

"Yes, Hannibal Lecter." You said, cheeks stinging from smiling so hard. "I will marry you."

Then you just went back to the dance lesson like nothing happened. It was shockingly in-character for both of you.

"No." You shook your head. "We killed someone together and took a blood oath to never separate."

The couple laughed. Hannibal looked down at you with pride.

“So [F/N].” The man said. “Have you given any thought to your doctoral dissertation?”

“Oh, Charles.” The woman rolled her eyes. “I’m sure she didn’t come here to be grilled about her studies.”

“No, it’s okay.” You smiled. As long as you were talking about school, you weren’t being interrogated about the thirty-year age gap between you and Hannibal. “I have been thinking about my dissertation. There are plenty of fascinating topics to choose from, but I can’t not write it about, well, the reason I began to study psychology in the first place.”

“And that is?” The man raised an eyebrow.

“Cults.” You said, grinning ear to ear. “Understanding them, their leaders, their followers, why people join them. How they evolve and grow more insidious as time passes. What form they’re starting to take in the digital age.”

“That is interesting.” The woman’s voice rose, connoting genuine engagement. “And what form are they taking in the digital age?”

You looked up at Hannibal, as if to ask for permission. Permission to rip into her and burn that bridge for good. He answered in the affirmative.

“Ma’am, could I take a look at your bracelet?” You asked, already knowing exactly what she would say.

Her face lit up. “Oh, do you like it?”

She pulled it off her wrist and handed it to you. You brought it to your nose and took a whiff, confirming your theory. Then you handed it off to Hannibal, whose sense of smell was much more refined. He took one breath, then recoiled.

Hannibal covered his mouth and nose with his hand and coughed. “That is... quite strong, Mrs. DeMarco.”

“It’s Affirm, by doTERRA.” She revealed, her voice growing defensive. “It helps you ground yourself and remember your worth.”

You handed the bracelet back to her. “Do you sell doTERRA, Mrs. DeMarco?”

“Well, now that you mention it...” A small smile appeared on her lips. “Why? Would you like to buy some?”

“I hate to be the one to tell you this, ma’am, but...” You lied. “You’re actually in a cult.”

She had nothing to say to that. She just stared at you with her mouth agape, urging you to explain yourself.

“Multilevel marketing companies employ a host of cult manipulation tactics to con people out of their savings.” You explained. “Just because the promise is financial independence instead of a spot in paradise, doesn’t mean it’s not a lie. Research conducted by the Federal Trade Commission shows that the vast majority of participants actually lose money. The statistics are just a google search away, yet thousands of people still insist on the legitimacy of the companies they sell for.”

“Well, I-” She protested, but couldn’t find the words to defend herself. “I’m there for the community, really. For the first time in years, I have a sisterhood of like-minded women who love me!”

You smiled through a cringe. “That’s another pretty common cult manipulation tactic. They appropriate familial language to make people feel more connected to the group than they really should be.”

Although you didn’t expect her to, she looked to be genuinely considering it.

“Next time you see your ‘sisters’,” You began. “Pay attention to how they talk about people who are not in the group. Or, better yet, tell them that you’re considering leaving. You’ll see how conditional their love is.”

An awkward, deafening silence followed. The woman looked at her husband, as if willing him to do something. To stand up to the evil twenty-something grad student who had the audacity to cite her sources.

Instead, the husband just burst out in riotous laughter.

“Miriam!” He nearly shouted, heaving like he was about to collapse. “I told you that oil business was up to no good! No honest company makes their employees pay to work!”

The woman’s face turned red. You almost felt bad for her. The feeling vanished when the man put his hand on your shoulder.

“Seriously, Dr. Lecter, you’d better keep this one.” He said, wiping a tear from his eye. “She’s an absolute godsend.”

“No divine intervention was involved whatsoever, Dr. DeMarco.” Hannibal smiled to himself and brought a glass of champagne to his lips. “She is a woman of her own making."

"Oh, we all know that's not entirely true." The woman snapped, slipping into passive-aggression. She glanced at Hannibal. "How much are you spending on this mouthy little know-it-all? Isn't it about $80k a year?"

You, of course, brought this on yourself. You threw down the gauntlet by going after this girlboss's side hustle, so now nothing was off-limits.

"I wouldn't worry about that, Mrs. DeMarco." Hannibal said, calmly. "My soon-to-be wife's education is a much better investment than that overpriced napalm you wear on your wrist."

You couldn't help but laugh at that. It was a laugh you shared with the man. Hannibal looked down at you, admiring how your face lit up.

"You'll forgive my wife's rudeness." The man requested. "Please, Ms. [F/N], tell me more about your dissertation."

"Well," you laced your fingers together. "I'm planning to write my dissertation on the cult of academic elitism."

"I would tread lightly, dear." The woman warned, eyes darting to Hannibal. "You wouldn't want to bite the hand that feeds you."

You adjusted your stole, giving them a quick glance at the love bites along your neck.

"I assure you." You said. "He quite likes it when I bite."

Your clutch started to aggressively, audibly vibrate. You could have sworn you'd put your phone on silent, but it buzzed nonetheless.

"Probably just, y'know-" you stuttered, embarrassed. "An amber alert or something."

"We are expecting a snowstorm, I believe. I was warned of it a few minutes ago." Hannibal said, always ready to cover your ass whenever needed. The couple nodded along in understanding.

You pulled your phone from your clutch. Your eyes widened and your face turned sickly pale at the sight of a caller you thought you’d never hear from again. Without thinking, you slid the deny icon across the screen.

“Right.” You said, tucking your phone and your secrets back into the clutch. “Winter Storm... Theresa is headed this way.”

Hannibal cleared his throat. “In that case, [F/N] and I must take our leave before we get snowed in. It was very nice catching up with you. I will see to it that [F/N] and I have you for dinner very soon.”

#hannibal lecter #hannibal x you #hannibal x reader #hannibal nbc #cult girl #doterra #anti mlm

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ailuronymy · 3 years ago

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do you think every disabled character in wc is handled poorly? i understand theres def some cases of ableism but at the same time when i hear ppl say that its usually bc the disabled cat wasnt able to become a warrior due to their disability. and i feel like ppl forget, that not everyone irl CAN do what they want after they become disabled. ex. someone wants to be an athlete, but their legs have to be amputated. a cat like briarlight esp i feel is p realistic and could be a source of comfort

Hello there, thank you for writing in. I’m going to reply to this question with a series of questions I think are a bit more useful, given what you’re trying to ask me. I hope that’ll clarify what is a deeply complex, multilayered issue.

Do I think Erin Hunter handles anything in the series “well”? Not really. I don’t have a high opinion of the work of the collective and, broadly speaking, I think every right note they play, metaphorically speaking, is an instance of chance rather than effort, skill, or intention. Stopped clocks are right twice a day, mediocre writers will sometimes do something cool by accident, similar principle. That’s not to say Erin Hunter hasn’t ever done anything on purpose--just that overall the underlying drive of the series isn’t so much quality as it is quantity, and speed of production, and it shows.

Do I think Erin Hunter puts any significant research into how they portray disability? No. I do not think it is a priority for this series. They’re not trying to make a meaningful work of literature, or capture a realistic experience of disability, or tell especially impactful or thoughtful stories, or even make a particularly good or coherent fantasy world. Warriors is a specifically commercial product that was commissioned by HarperCollins to appeal to a particular demographic of drama-loving, cat-loving kids. It’s not really trying to do anything but sell books, because it’s a business, so the text in many ways reflects that. They’re not going for disability representation, in my opinion. They’re including disability in many cases as a plot-point or an obstacle.

Do I think this means that people can’t connect to these characters and narratives in meaningful ways? No. Often I say that a work is completed only when it is read. Before that point, it doesn’t have a meaning: a reader finishes the work through the act of reading, and interpretation, and filling in the spaces and resonance of the story with their own values and experiences. When people talk about subjectivity, this is what they are talking about. What this means in the context of disabled characters in Warriors is that these characters and their stories can be multiple, conflicting, even mutually exclusive things at the same time, to different people, for different reasons.

Do I think characters have to be “good” to be significant to someone? No. I think genuinely “bad” (i.e., not researched or poorly researched, cliche, thoughtlessly written, problematic, etc. etc.) characters can be deeply meaningful, and often are. Ditto above: for many people, and especially marginalised or stigmatised people, reading is almost always an act of translation, wherein the person is reading against the creative work of the dominant culture in a way that the author likely didn’t intend or didn’t even imagine. There’s a long documented history of this in queer culture, but it’s true for just about everyone who is rarely (or unfairly) represented in media. Disabled people often have to read deeply imperfect works of fiction featuring disability and reinterpret them in the process--whether to relate to a kind of disability they don’t experience themselves but which is the closest they’re offered to something familiar, or to turn positive and meaningful what is intended as narrative punishment, or simply to create what’s commonly called headcanon about “non-disabled” characters who echo their personal experiences.

Do I think everyone has to agree? Extremely no. As I said before, people will actually always disagree, because all people have different needs and different experiences. What can be interpreted as empowering to one person might be very othering and painful for another. There is no “right” answer, because, again, that is how subjectivity works. This is especially true because marginalised communities are often many different kinds of people with different lives and needs brought together over a trait or traits they share due to the need for solidarity as protection and power--but only in a broad sense. It’s why there is often intracommunity fighting over representation: there isn’t enough, there’s only scraps, and so each person’s personal interpretation can feel threatening to people whose needs are different. You can see examples of this especially when it comes to arguments over character sexuality: a queer female character might be interpreted as bisexual by bisexual people who relate to her and want her to be, while being interpreted as lesbian by lesbians who also relate to her and want her to be like them. Who is correct? Often these different interpretations based on different needs are presented as if one interpretation is theft from the other, when in fact the situation is indicative of the huge dearth of options for queer people. It becomes increasingly more intense when it comes to “canon” representations, because of the long history of having to read against the grain I mentioned above: there’s novelty and, for some people, validation in “canon” certainty. And again, all of this is also true for disabled people and other stigmatised groups.

Do I think this is a problem? Not exactly. It is what it is. It is the expected effect of the circumstances. Enforced scarcity creates both the need for community organising and solidarity and the oppressive pressure to prioritise one’s self first and leave everyone else in the dust (or else it might happen to you). The system will always pit suppressed people against each other constantly, because it actively benefits from intracommunity fighting. Who needs enemies when you have friends like these, and so on. A solution is absolutely for everyone in community to hold space for these different needs and values, and to uplift and support despite these differences, but it’s not anyone’s fault for feeling threatened or upset when you don’t have much and feel like the thing that you do have is being taken away. It’s a normal, if not really helpful, human response. But until people learn and internalised that the media is multifaceted and able to be many things at once, without any of those things being untrue or impacting your truth of the text, then there will be fighting.

Do I think my opinion on disability on Warriors is all that important? No, not really. I can relate to some characters in some moment through that translation, but my opinion on, say, Jayfeather is nowhere near as worthy of consideration than that of someone who is blind. I don’t have that experience and it’s not something I can bring meaningful thinking about, really. That’s true for all these characters. If you want to learn about disability, prioritise reading work about disabled rights and activism that is done by disabled people, and literary criticism from disabled people. And as I mentioned above, remember that community isn’t a monolith: it’s a survival tactic, that brings together many different people with disparate experiences of the world. So research widely.

Finally--do I think there’s only one kind of disabled narrative worth telling? No. For some people, a disabled character achieving a specific, ability-focused dream is a good story. For other people, a story that acknowledges and deals with the realities, and limitations, of disability is a good story. The same person might want both of those stories at different times, depending on their mood. That’s okay. Sometimes there’s power and delight in a fantasy of overcoming seemingly impossible obstacles and defying all expectations. Sometimes there’s value and catharsis in a narrative that delves into the challenges and grief and oppression experienced because of disability. There’s no one truth.

To round all this off, I’m going to give my favourite example of this, which is Cinderella. I think it’s a great and useful tool, since for many it’s familiar and it’s very simple. Not much happens. In the story, she is bullied and tormented, until a fairy godmother gifts her over several nights with the opportunity to go to a royal ball, where she dances with a prince. The prince eventually is able to find Cinderella, due to a shoe left behind, and they are married. In some versions, the family that mistreated her are killed. In others, they’re forgiven.

Some people hate the story of Cinderella, because she is seen as passive. She tolerates the bullying and never fights back. She does every chore she’s told. She is given an opportunity by a fairy godmother, and she doesn’t help herself go to the ball. She runs from the prince and he does the work to find her again. Eventually, she’s married and the prince, presumably, keeps her in happiness and comfort for the rest of her life.

For some, this story is infuriating, because Cinderella doesn’t “save herself”: she is largely saved by external forces. She is seen as a quintessential damsel-in-distress, and especially for people who have been bullied, infantalised, or made to feel less capable or weak, that can be a real point of personal pain and discomfort.

However, for some others, Cinderella is a figure of strength, because she is able to endure such hostile environments and terrible people and never gives up her gentle nature or her hope. She never becomes cruel, or bitter. She is brave in daring to go outside her tiny, trapped world, and she is brave to let the prince find her. She doesn’t have to fight or struggle to earn her reward of happiness and prove her worth, because she was always deserving of love and kindness. The prince recognises at once, narratively speaking, her goodness and virtue, and stops at nothing to deliver her a better life.

Depending on the version, the wicked family disfigure themselves for their own greed--or are punished, which for some is a revenge fantasy; or Cinderella forgives them and once again shows her tenacious kindness, which for others is a different revenge fantasy.

The point? Cinderella is the same character in the same story, but these are almost unrecognisable readings when you put them side-by-side. Which one is right? Which one is better? In my opinion, those are the wrong questions. I hope this (long, sorry) reply is a set of more useful ones.

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bestiesenpai · 4 years ago

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Itadori + Sukuna w/ deaf partner

I wanna preface this by saying I am not deaf or hard of hearing, but I hope I can do this justice! Itadori and Sukuna are two separate ppl in this, I’m just assuming you’d like it that way? sorry if I'm wrong

Itadori:

He’s definitely more understanding, that’s for sure lol

He’ll use his phone to communicate with you until he learns enough sign language

Loves to learn the most random signs, one’s that he won’t ever need to use in a normal conversation but he learns them anyway

Isn’t the most tactful, he might get caught staring at your hearing aids(if you wear them) and wonder what it’s like to wear them, might ask if he can wear them

Feels very bad if there’s a funny video he’s laughing at but it doesn’t have subtitles so he can’t show you :(

But fear not, the notes app is here! He will caption the video for you! Even if it takes three times as long as him badly signing what’s being said

If there’s an event you’re going to without him, he’ll fret over if you have an interpreter and if he should go with you to do it, even if you say you don’t need it

Sometimes, he’s an overbearing parent who’s too worried about their child, but he means well! Promise!

He’ll also get into the habit of putting captions on for anything and everything, even if there’s an interpreter in the video already lol he wants you to be well informed

And he’s always signing ‘i love you’ after any conversation he has with you

Sukuna:

This man is as graceful as a warm body in a wood chipper, ie. messy as fuck and all over the place

If he finds out you’re deaf, he will be a little ignorant, I won’t lie. Does that thing where he talks louder as if you can suddenly hear him when he does that

Is slow to pick up sign language and he’ll only learn dirty words at first lol

His most used phrase is ‘suck my cock’ and ‘lets have sex’

He’ll ask you straight up how you became deaf, whether that was being born deaf or through some other way. He will google later that night to learn more about it.

If anyone and I do mean anyone tries to give you a hard time for being deaf he will cuss them the fuck out through spoken word and sign language so everyone can understand the insults he’s throwing

Speaking of insults he loves to talk shit with you through sign language about other people in the room, and no he doesn’t care if they can understand him as well he’s still gonna do it lol

Is similar to Itadori in an overbearing parent way, like when you go up to a counter to order something Sukuna will stand off to the side hyper-analyzing the interaction to make sure it goes smoothly

Is willing to sell his organs if he has to to pay for your hearing aid if it gets broken or something

He will get visibly upset if there’s a video he wants to show you that doesn’t have captions, but instead of writing the captions in his notes app he’ll try and sign the words as the video is playing and his gestures are always too over the top

#jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen headcanons #itadori yuji #yuji itadori x reader #ryomen sukuna #sukuna x reader #jujutsu kaisen fanfic

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accio-victuuri · 3 years ago

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Hello Anon! 👋🏼 I will try to answer your questions. I don’t know how I can answer this without going into the plan of a Socialist China + other main issues. I will touch upon some of those.

I’m keeping this under the cut so those who are here for FANDOM only can skip. 🤍

So. About Danmei. I won’t go into history, let’s just discuss the recent conversation that has been going on.The gist is they are saying Danmei is perpetuating bad values and unrealistic beauty standards. Some people are also calling out the fact that companies use this genre to bait people — selling it as a product instead of wanting to tell a story. Tho I agree that this genre is/was exploited by companies + Danmei stories have questionable themes I don’t think that it should be targeted the way it is.

There are other medias that show “bad values” but are not getting banned. The comment section I shared was about minors and video games which is not solely a problem of Tencent or Netease. It should not be all on them. These kids have ways to get around it. The notion that this will somehow influence their sexuality is complete bullshit to me. They are trying to appeal to the people’s morality by dropping words like VALUES / CULTURE but it’s all just a ploy to silence LGBT media. They can’t make it too popular to the point that people will accept it.

About Religion and is it a part of Why all this Homophobia in CHN? I’ll answer that with a No right now. Since we’re talking about the present and what all this suppression is about.

• LGBT movement calls for people coming together w/ a common goal that does not show NATIONALISM (whatever that is) or not applauding the CCP so naturally, it should be shut down. The thing with the communist party is they don’t really care what cause you’re peddling, if you’re eclipsing them and their message then you should be out. Take for example the Pride Parade in Shanghai, when asked about it, officials don’t really care much that it’s an LGBT parade. They are calling it out because people are uniting about something that isn’t about The Motherland. You can only organize things like this if it’s about Propaganda.

• The Three Child Policy. You may have heard of this going around but it’s one of CHN’s problem right now— Their aging population. So having Danmei media is not good if they want people to get married and have babies (according to them lol). But really, they put up a poll on Weibo if people are ready for this change and 97% said no. Then they deleted the post. The people are overworked and underpaid. The world is shitty. The younger population who just got out of college can’t find decent jobs ( top universities are rumored to be lying about their student’s job placement rates). Maybe they should look into that first as reasons why people don’t want to procreate before blaming it on Danmei and the LGBT community.

Digging up dirt regarding celebrities is not something new. The Antis and YXH have always been there to get the dirt about these celebrities. It’s their job. They want the clicks. It’s like in Hollywood etc where people dig up old tweets of problematic celebrities and expose them.

There is a crackdown going on in C-ent — not just artists but companies that benefit from them. You are seeing it. It’s only gonna get worse. I’ve talked about Celebrities in CHN being expected to have higher moral standards than regular people. That still applies but this is taking it to the extreme. Celebrities are doing what they can to prove their love for China for example :

• reposting the mandatory posts shared by government accounts.

• if someone gets cancelled they will delete that person’s existence in their social media accounts so they won’t be affected by association.

• cutting ties with brands that are Anti China ( or let’s call it pro Taiwan and Hongkong independence ).

• trying to get their hands on more projects that are 💯 backed by the government. working hand in hand with certain sectors of the government to relay the propaganda to people.

• using their platform to support government causes.

They might as well tattoo I love China on their foreheads as an ultimate act of Nationalism and not get cancelled.

I don’t understand the Logic too. What they are doing is not sustainable at all. The Common Prosperity idea the CCP is trying to instill isn’t the end goal.

They preach about breaking companies who are getting Monopoly of industries when the truth is— It’s only the government who is allowed Monopoly. That’s why they are hitting celebrities with Tax Evasion. They get money. Silencing Billionaires. Seizing their assets. They will get the money. No one can be more powerful than the CCP. It’s a pig farm and once one gets too fat— they will be slaughtered. The media is trying to spin it as trying to stop toxic fan culture, which is, sure, I can agree to than on some level but it’s an excuse to do take more control of celebrities/media.

I just focused on what happening right now to keep it short. My thoughts aren’t always the more organized but I hope this made sense to you 😌🙏🏼

#ask response

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forasecondtherewedwon · 4 years ago

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Hex Life

Fandom: WandaVision Pairing: Darcy Lewis/Jimmy Woo Rating: E Chapters: 10/10 Word Count: 34k

Summary: Guest starring Agent James E. Woo as himself and introducing Dr. Darcy Lewis as Mrs. Darcy Woo!

Or: Darcy and Jimmy are sent into the Hex to retrieve Captain Monica Rambeau. Finding out Westview has cast them as a married couple is only the first of the surprises that await them.

read ch. 1 one / 2 two / 3 three / 4 four / 5 five 6 six / 7 seven / 8 eight / 9 nine / 10 ten

this fic is now complete!

Jimmy’s going to be a dad. He was going to be a dad in a black-and-white sitcom world and now he’s going to be a dad in a world on the regular spectrum, so the colours really aren’t as big a deal as his impending fatherhood. Possible fatherhood. As much as he’s always secretly wanted his own little Jimmy Woo Jr., he didn’t know if it would be in the cards for him—pun obviously intended—and the last thing he wants to do is influence Darcy either way, especially since he’s only known her a couple days and doesn’t have a clue if a baby was really part of her life plan.

It can’t just be rose-coloured glasses making him see his wife warming to the idea though; when she continues down the hall ahead of Jimmy and Monica, he spots her careful cradling of the baby bump. He can barely stand not touching her. The instinct to shelter others has always been one of his strongest and now he feels it intensely. He longs to protect Darcy, to hold Darcy, to love— Well. Jimmy clears his throat at the very thought and Monica gives him a suspicious side-eyed glance.

“Dry throat,” he lies, tapping his neck in a probably highly unconvincing gesture.

“Uh huh.”

Yeah, she doesn’t sound convinced.

He’s rescued by a burst of sound from the bedroom and dashes ahead of Monica in case Darcy’s in trouble. When he bangs the bedroom door fully open, she’s fine. She’s laughing. He sighs and looks where she points. The queen-sized mattress they shared has changed back to a pair of narrower beds.

“Seriously,” Jimmy says flatly.

“Well, the big bed worked its magic,” Darcy concedes. She pats her rounded stomach. “Mission accomplished.”

“Aw jeeze.”

Ignoring his distress, she sits on the end of the closest bed.

“What I like is that they’re magically made. I didn’t end up having to change the sheets. This is really the next step in home technology.”

“Honey, don’t encourage the magical forces that control our home décor,” he pleads, beckoning until Darcy rises and takes his outstretched hand.

“Better than getting on their bad side. In the AI uprising, you wanna make sure you’re friends with the robots.”

This is an outrageous statement coming from a credible scientist, so Jimmy squints down at her for a minute before saying, “Thanks, house,” aloud, just in case appeasing the Hex now saves him from being closed into a room with no door later, if the walls rearrange to form the ’70s model of their current home.

“You did the smart thing,” Darcy assures him.

As they leave the room, she keeps hold of his hand. He shoots adoring glances at her.

“Hey, Monica,” she says, calling to their guest, who seems to have gone to investigate the walk-in closet. “Accommodations aren’t going to be a problem. I can give you some pajamas too because I think I own at least a dozen pairs, as I’m sure you’ve already discovered…”

But when they look in the closet it’s… not a closet.

“Or maybe the Hex destroyed all my pajamas and I should take back my overtures of friendship,” Darcy corrects.

“Welcome to your nursery,” Monica says. “I’m guessing from the look on Jimmy’s face that this is new.”

It’s spartan, but there’s no doubt in Jimmy’s mind that the room is now intended to be exactly what Monica said. There’s a crib in pieces on the carpet and a rocking chair in the corner. Though he can’t remember this room having even one window, there are now two. The blinds are drawn against the night and curtains patterned with stars and streaking comets hang from a rod mounted above the window. Automatically, he pulls Darcy into his side. He feels her rest her head on his shoulder.

“Man, the Hex is really giving us the hard sell,” she comments.

Just like that, he’s guiding her around by her upper arms and propelling her from the room. He glances over his shoulder to see Monica following with an amused smile. At his nod, she pulls the door shut.

“Ignore it,” Jimmy tells Darcy. “Don’t let that room influence you.”

“Oh, like that’s easy.” She rolls her eyes.

“I know it’s hard not to picture reading Jimmy Junior to sleep in his crib, or watching him learn to roll himself over on the carpet, or cuddling him in your arms in the rocking chair as the morning light—”

“Jimmy Junior?” Darcy asks, interrupting Jimmy’s rapidly solidifying daydream.

“You know what? I’m starving,” Monica announces, putting a hand on each of their shoulders to head off the awkward pause. “How about you two show me some hospitality? I’ve had a long day of being mind-controlled.”

“How ’bout some comfort food?” he asks. “I make a mean bowl of chili.”

“Sounds great.”

So, Jimmy cooks for them. His attention is unequally divided between the simmering pot, Monica leaning against the counter next to him as she recounts the scene at the meeting when Wanda went to take his call, and Darcy sifting pickily through the contents of their fridge. He glances over after putting the lid on the pot to let the chili finish cooking and sees his wife contemplatively holding an egg like it’s Yorick’s skull. Ok, well, he’s just going to leave her to her thoughts.

He sets bowls of chili for himself and Monica on the dining room table. Darcy, justifiably finnicky, takes longer to decide what she’ll be able to stomach, reflexively rubbing the baby bump as she plunders their kitchen. Finally, she comes to sit down. She’s brought a spoon. That’s it. Jimmy’s going to ask, but Darcy just scoots her chair close to his and takes intermittent mouthfuls of his serving while the conversation continues on. He sighs in unannoyed exasperation and alternates dips of his spoon with hers.

It’s just another weird routine they’ve settled into, and like everything else, it didn’t take long.

“You two didn’t know each other before this assignment, right?” Monica checks, motioning between Darcy and Jimmy with a slice of buttered toast.

“No, why?” Darcy asks, dropping a chunk of tomato from her spoon onto his. (Apparently, she doesn’t like tomatoes.)

Monica smiles and says, “No reason.”

She seems ready to accept them as they are, whatever they are. She goes back over the events of this afternoon for Darcy’s benefit—who was zoned out staring at an egg at the time—then the three of them turn to talk of tomorrow. What does Monica feel she needs to try before she’s willing to concede and leave the Hex with them? What can she try? How can Jimmy and Darcy assist her? They talk themselves in a circle of possibilities, limitations, and Monica’s unswerving negative answer to suggestions of her leaving the Hex without getting through to Wanda. Eventually, they decide that the best plan may be no plan, since they’re up against Westview’s ever-shifting magical properties.

“We’ll get up in the morning and see what the world looks like,” Monica says.

Jimmy’s going to reply when the Captain’s expression alters.

“Are you remembering?” Darcy asks her astutely. Monica stares at her. “I don’t want to pry, I’ve just seen that look on a lot of people’s faces lately. People who came back.”

“This isn’t dissimilar,” Monica admits. “When I get anywhere near Wanda or the other characters with speaking parts and start to lose control to… Geraldine—” Jimmy thinks the look on her face is both disgusted and deeply hurt. “—I do get this feeling like the world is going on without me. Only I’m there. I’m right there. I haven’t made up my mind yet if it’s worse than being gone entirely then coming back to find nothing’s the same.”

“Yeah,” Darcy says, soft, sympathetic.

“I don’t know what else the members of this community have been through, but I know I don’t want them to have to keep going through this too. I can’t imagine how tight Wanda’s grip is on the people who were here when she started this. Not sure I’m qualified to be the one to tell her how to let go of her grief and move on.”

Monica blinks quickly and gives a forced smile.

“That was good chili, Jimmy.”

He nods in thanks because he can’t find the right words to say.

They’re all carrying something and Jimmy thinks about that as the three of them clean up, then splinter off to get ready for bed, tired for different and shared reasons. (He changes into his pajamas in the nursery—they found their clothing in a new, regular-sized closet in the bedroom—while Monica and Darcy take the bathrooms.) The Captain’s carrying her recent bereavement and the unignorable sense of responsibility she feels to help Wanda and the Westviewers, possibly precisely because she isn’t ready to confront her own loss. Darcy’s doing some literal carrying with the baby bump her pajama top is buttoned over when she steps out of the en suite bathroom to let Jimmy in to brush his teeth. She’s an astrophysicist who, while studying a television diversion from reality, was brought rudely back to earth by circumstances as real as they come.

What Jimmy’s carrying is actually carrying him: his hope. It’s a good thing to have in his line of work, but a tough thing to keep when the world’s been through what it has. A baby is the least likely and most longed-for thing he would’ve confessed to wanting if someone asked him what was missing from his life.

When it’s acknowledged through awkward glances that, yes, Monica’s taking one of the beds and Jimmy and Darcy will share the other, he climbs under the covers his wife holds open for him. She rolls away from him to lie on her side and he gets comfortable on his back. The Hex has definitely eased up on what it wants for their romantic development because this is the first time he’s been in bed with Darcy and not felt himself caving to the need to have sex with her. Oh, the desire to touch her is as powerful as ever, but the kind of touching he craves is as tender as the flesh of that peach he brought her earlier in the day.

But he doesn’t want to crowd her. Figuratively or literally. Between finding Monica and calling Wanda, making love to Darcy all afternoon and being presented with her pregnant belly in the evening, it’s been a dog’s breakfast of a day. The mission abruptly became just the second most daunting thing he needs to pull off. Now, he’s driven by the impulse to be near Darcy. She doesn’t know it, but she’s drawing him in like gravity and he can only cross his fingers for a soft landing.

Jimmy almost jumps when she reaches for him in the dark, hand feeling behind her until it finds his. She drags his arm over her and he flips onto his side to make it easier. Though Darcy lets him go when his arm’s around her, he doesn’t know where to rest his hand. Tentatively, he places it over her belly and she wriggles back into him. Heart bursting, he holds her more securely to his body, smooths his hand over the bump, and soon falls asleep.

—

The floor wakes him up. He’s just fallen out of bed.

Disoriented, Jimmy sits up in a tangle of comforter and squints at his bed companion in the morning light. They must’ve repositioned while they slept, but that alone wasn’t what forced him to and over the edge—he can see the shape of Darcy’s belly beneath the sheet. It’s noticeably larger than it was yesterday.

He’s still trying to come to terms with that when she sleepily grasps the comforter and yanks it back over her body. Jimmy chuckles and rises into a stretch. Monica’s bed is empty and neatly made, so she must be up already. Before entering the Hex, his internal clock was strict too. Since, he bends to the needs of his subconscious, which seems happiest when it’s allowed to sleep in, particularly if Darcy’s warming the sheets next to him. This is only their third day in Westview and the second time waking up here, but it feels wonderfully routine. As satisfying as completing his consistently-timed morning run or pouring exactly the right amount of milk into his cereal.

Although he’d like to let Darcy sleep, it’s weird now because he’s staring. Anyway, they need to tighten up their operations even further today if they’re going to get out of here soon. Monica requires either success or closure with Wanda, so Jimmy’s determined to help with that. And if Darcy’s pregnancy takes another leap forward, well… that’s another time crunch to consider.

She’s lying on her side, facing him, belly in the space where he fell asleep. Gently, he brushes hair out of her face and strokes lightly up and down her arm.

Darcy gives him a murmured “Hi” with her eyes still shut.

“You gonna get up?”

“Inaminute,” she promises, words running together.

“Alright.”

Jimmy hovers for a second, then darts down to kiss her forehead. She pats his shoulder clumsily in response.

He might as well have had his own eyes shut, blind to everything but Darcy, because it takes opening his wardrobe to realize Monica was correct—everything’s changed again. WandaVision has embraced the ’70s. The shirts and suits he was pretty comfortable with have been traded out. Those items still exist, but now they’re aggressively patterned. There are flared pant legs. There is so much corduroy. Out of the row of shoes tucked into the bottom on his side of the closet, half have platform heels.

“Oh god,” Jimmy groans softly, sifting through for something that won’t feel too much like a cheesy costume.

He ends up with jeans—his only pair of pants without a pattern—and a striped shirt with wide lapels. The Hex’s makeover of his closet has him so beaten down that he doesn’t even pick out a jacket. He doesn’t have the heart for business casual. At the sight of a long-sleeved jumpsuit, Jimmy closes the closet door securely. They have to get out of here. This will be the thing that breaks him.

Slouching into the bathroom, he drops his selections on the counter and takes a shower. As he washes his hair, his fingers slow their scrubbing. Is his hair… longer? He finishes quickly and steps out to find the mirror fogged with steam. He wipes it clean with his forearm, examining his reflection. This place isn’t through with him yet: the Hex has given him a mustache.

Jimmy screams.

“Fine!” Darcy shouts back to his wordless noise of dismay. “I’m up! God, you could’ve just set an alarm and OH MY GOD, HAVE YOU SEEN THE SIZE OF THIS BABY BUMP?!”

He sighs on behalf of himself and his wife, slicks his too-long wet hair back with a comb, then starts in on shaving off the mustache. It immediately grows back.

“Come on,” he complains, cursing the Hex. “Why’d you give me a razor then?!”

Luckily, his annoyance fades the minute he sees Darcy. She’s swearing up a storm about needing to pee and her head looking too small for her body because the Hex has straightened her hair, but he takes all of her restless irritation in with a dazed smile on his face. Adjusting her glasses—now almost circular, with rounded off corners—she catches sight of his new look and erupts into laughter. Whatever the Hex does to mess with their appearance, at least they’re each other’s best medicine to combat it.

“I don’t want to be insensitive,” Monica starts when they walk into the kitchen hand in hand, “but are you significantly more pregnant than you were yesterday?”

Jimmy watches Darcy nod and slips away from her to throw some more bread in the toaster from the bag Monica’s left out on the counter for them.

“You’d think it’s just this big, shapeless dress,” Darcy says, “but no.” She pulls the fabric taut over her stomach to show the size of her belly more accurately. “I don’t want to say it, but the size of this thing makes me think the Hex is leaving me room to grow.”

“And if that dress is only for today…” Monica says.

“Jeepers,” Jimmy concludes.

They eat together in their reconfigured living room. It’s not until Monica’s kicked back in one of their low chairs, ankle propped on her opposite knee, that Jimmy notices her patterned pants.

“Those aren’t from Darcy’s closet are they?”

“No. I’m assuming they’re my clothes from yesterday with the matter recycled for a new decade. Believe me, this outfit wouldn’t have been my choice if I had anything else to pick from.”

“I wouldn’t be too sure. I had a whole closet and still ended up with this,” Jimmy says, motioning to himself.

“My retro Secret Agent Man,” Darcy states admiringly, leaning her head over to bump against his shoulder. Ok, he thinks, smiling at her, I can be alright with this for her.

When Monica rises to turn on the television, Jimmy realizes this is the first time they’ve had one in the house. He remembers seeing a set in the Vision residence when he and Darcy were watching an episode on the S.W.O.R.D. base, but he didn’t notice the lack once they got here. Probably because that first night was taken up with flirting, and then yesterday was split between scouring the downtown for Monica and holing up in the bedroom with Darcy. Watching the screen buzz to life now is like witnessing something truly futuristic and spectacular.

“Well, whaddaya know,” he says as the opening sequence of WandaVision begins.

“You think the TVs in here play anything else?” Darcy wonders aloud.

“Maybe not,” Monica says distractedly as they all turn their attention to Wanda and Vision’s adorable antics—the ice cream, the tandem bicycle. “It’s a pretty big coincidence that this show started right when I turned it on.”

“I can see an even bigger coincidence.”

There’s no need to guess what Darcy means. Wanda’s baby bump is obvious in nearly every shot of the introduction, particularly emphasized when she and Vision dance together, his hand on her belly. It’s all maternity clothes and Vision reading pregnancy books and while it’s wholesome, it’s also chilling.

“We’re doing the same plot,” Jimmy says.

“It’s like we’re… their understudies,” Darcy agrees, shrinking back into the cushions.

“Maybe Wanda figured, if you two wanted to be in the show so bad, she’d put you in the show,” Monica theorizes. “Her show. Exactly the way she’s living it.”

“So she’s teaching us a lesson? On what? Abstinence?”

“Could be a misguided attempt to gain your sympathy.”

“Or it really is all about control,” Jimmy suggests, cynical after the reveal that the pregnancy that’s upended his entire life isn’t really theirs. It’s not original. They’re following a Newlywed Couple template.

“Hey,” Darcy says, grabbing his arm, “this wasn’t all Wanda. She might’ve set the scene and, yeah, maybe we were more the goatherd puppets than we were Fraulein Maria and Captain von Trapp, but we did this.” She pulls his hand to her belly. “Wanda doesn’t decide what we do next.”

“What I suggest you not do next is consult Dr. Misogyny over here,” Monica says, gesturing at the television.

The doctor is condescending to Wanda and Vision about the facts of life during a checkup (in their living room?). He lowers himself even further in Jimmy’s regard when he refers to expectant mothers as “little ladies” and implies that the changes in their own bodies are beyond their understanding.

“What a quack,” he decides. “We’re not going to see that guy.” He’s startled to recall his promise to Darcy the previous evening, about options, his intention not to make up her own mind for her. Lowering his voice, he tilts his head close to hers. “I mean, we’ll do whatever you want. Including…”

Jimmy trails off and casts his eyes down. He still means it, wants Darcy on board with this 100% or not at all, but the whole thing’s been a roller coaster and he’s not great at pretending not to feel anything. With his wife so much further into her pregnancy today, it’s obvious that this baby will be born and they’ll need to decide who’s raising it. He thinks the two of them together could rear a pretty incredible kid, but if she wants out, is he prepared to be a single parent? The other option besides her, him, or both of them raising the baby is adoption. They’d need to leave the Hex before taking those steps (it’s not like he’s going to encourage Darcy to hand the baby over to a mind-controlled Westviewer), and just thinking about it, with everything he already feels for the baby, makes him certain that he’d rather rearrange his entire life than pass on this chance at a family. However unorthodox their beginnings.

“Don’t worry,” Darcy says calmly, pulling him from his spiral. “That guy will never get the chance to compare my uterus to a vegetable garden.”

“Fruit,” Monica corrects without looking away from the television.

“Right. Fruit. He’ll have no say about any of it. And he definitely won’t get the opportunity to be patronizing as fuck while he tries to give us the sex talk.” She looks Jimmy right in the eye and says, “I won’t let the asshole doctor-man say a word about your banana.”

Chuckling, he looks back to the screen. The doctor has departed and Vision’s currently baffled over Wanda’s newly expanded stomach. Uh oh. He jerks his head around to check and, yep, Darcy’s baby bump appears to be keeping up with the sitcom star’s.

“You two stay here,” Monica instructs, on her feet when Jimmy glances over.

“Where are you going?” he asks.

“To Wanda’s. If things continue at this rate, she could give birth in this episode. That’s going to make her even more protective of her family and her space and I’ll have an even harder time getting near her.”

“Are you sure you want to interrupt?”

They both glance at the television for a moment to observe Wanda and Vision debating baby names in the nursery. There’s nothing distressing about the scene—in fact, the couple looks as much at ease as Jimmy’s seen them on the show—but that doesn’t mean it couldn’t change, and quickly, if Monica inserted herself. He just isn’t sure how that would go and he doesn’t like any plan where he can’t foresee all the possible outcomes.

“Guess I just have a feeling,” Monica says, looking unsettled.

“Well,” Darcy pipes up, “in the world of science, having a feeling is forming a theory, and in this place… I think having a feeling you should do something might be Wanda giving you your cue.”

“You’re not beyond her control,” Jimmy tells Monica, “just farther away from it. What if Darcy’s right?”

“If Wanda wants me there, I’m not going to resist,” she replies firmly. “She’s the key and we need her cooperation.”

“Good luck,” Darcy bids her.

With a nod to them both, Monica strides across the living room and opens the front door.

“Speaking of keys,” Jimmy recalls, but the door shuts before he can offer to let her borrow their car to get to Wanda’s.

Maybe the Captain has a different plan. Maybe she’s just bending to Wanda’s influence. Whichever it is, he can’t go after her. Monica was right—he has to stay here with Darcy today, especially because her belly seems larger when he looks again. He glances at her face with a question on his and she nods.

“And I felt a kick,” she says.

“Really? Could I…? Do you think I could…?”

Darcy rolls her eyes at his reticence and guides both his hands to the bump. When he feels something nudge his palm, Jimmy tears up.

“That’s our baby,” Darcy confirms.

“Feels like they have my softball windup,” he murmurs.

“Or my pre-coffee restlessness.”

“Our baby,” Jimmy repeats, staring into her eyes—finally blue for the first time in days, give or take a decade.

They’re having a marvelous family moment until the power goes out. Lights, TV, the hum of the fridge in the kitchen, everything. Seconds later, it all comes back.

“That was strange.”

“I wondered what Wanda’s magic was doing to the power grid,” Darcy says. “I’m still curious about the finer points of what happens when electricity meets power generated by an Infinity Stone. Really, I’d expect Wanda to have this kinda thing under control, but I guess if she’s— Ugh!”

Her pained noise has Jimmy cupping her face, pushing back her hair, trying to figure out what happened.

“She’s distracted,” she says.

“By what?”

“Labour.”

“What? No.”

Sure enough, when Darcy stands (with Jimmy leaping to his feet to support her) and stretches her back, her bump looks big enough to contain a baby that’s almost ready to be born. Ready to be born?! Jimmy thinks. In our house? With no doctor? Just because the one on TV rubbed him the wrong way doesn’t mean he’s prepared to write off every doctor, nurse, and midwife in Westview. He would very much like to place responsibility for this delivery in the hands of a medical professional, not his own!

Even as the TV’s flickering back to life, he helps Darcy away from it. That just shows how serious things are. He knows how quickly she became invested in the sitcom when they reviewed the ’50s episode at the base.

After some frantic thought, he’s thinking the bathtub is going to have to do. People do that right? With home births? Although he attempts to guide Darcy in that direction, she doesn’t even want to sit down on the edge, let alone climb in. No, she wants to pace, and as she paces, she rubs at her lower back, wincing.

“We could look at the nursery,” he proposes. “Might take your mind off it.”

Jimmy knows it could be a weak suggestion, an insult to imply that anything could take Darcy’s mind off whatever discomfort she’s currently feeling, but the Hex, with its radioactive walls, smiles down on them for once. With his arm around her to take some of her weight, they hobble into the baby’s room and it’s… perfect.

The walls are dark blue near the ceiling, almost black, fading to periwinkle halfway down the wall. The lower portion transitions from blue to pale yellow, then a blazing orange right before the baseboard.

“It’s a sunrise,” he comprehends.

“Yeah,” Darcy says softly.

Though he feels like he got slightly ripped off by not being allowed a chance to do any of the decorating, he does admire the Hex’s choices. At last, his wife’s been represented in this space, in this house, and it’s beautiful. There’s a shelf full of space-themed board books, a plastic jumble of play versions of scientific tools like telescopes. A dangling mobile of the planets. After easing his wife into the rocking chair, Jimmy holds up a pack of glow-in-the-dark stars.

“Should I put these up?”

She smiles.

“I would be all over that shit if I could, but I trust you to do a good job.”

“Oh no. Do you want me to do real constellations?”

“The baby’s not gonna know the difference. Make it look however you want.”

She rocks, assuring him something about the motion is helping her manage the intensifying pain of her contractions, and Jimmy finds a small stepping stool to help him reach the ceiling. The sway of the chair in the corner of his eye, the morning light through the curtains, and the sound of Darcy breathing are things he already knows he’ll never forget.

Before he’s stuck all the stars in the pack to the ceiling’s white paint, she calls him down from the stool.

“I need to walk again.”

Darcy says it with grit and Jimmy doesn’t argue, even when walking appears to put her in even more distress; she groans and pushes her free hand against the wall as they stroll out of the nursery and down the hallway.

“Let’s check in with Wanda,” Jimmy says helplessly.

This is who he is now: a husband in over his head, desperate to gain tips about delivering a baby from a TV sitcom. An overwhelmed real estate agent. A man with a mustache.

They return to the living room and the TV playing WandaVision in time for Monica’s entrance. Based on her free use of ’70s slang and the general discord between the Captain Rambeau Jimmy’s been getting to know and the woman on the screen, he knows they’re looking at Geraldine. Wanda’s back in control of her character alright, and Jimmy wants to know who it’s helping. The scene’s centered around some joke about Wanda attempting to hide her pregnancy, which is no good for him. He needs a step-by-step guide, not a magic-resistant stork!

“There better not be a fucking bird in here,” Darcy gripes, alternately crouching and standing as every position fails to make her comfortable. “If I see a fucking, goddamn, sonofabitch, motherfucking—”

“I know, sweetie, I know,” Jimmy assures her, rubbing circles between her shoulder blades with the flat of his hand.

“The betrayal,” she mutters when Wanda elects to lie down behind a couch.

It completely blocks their view. If this were a regular show, Jimmy would understand that. Sitcom viewers would definitely appreciate a little TV magic over graphic, up-close-and-personal birth footage, but here at the Woo residence, one FBI agent and his astrophysicist wife really just want the truth! If Monica had agency, he’s sure she’d shove the couch aside to help them out, but with Geraldine at the helm, he’s confronting the fact that he and Darcy are on their own.

“Let’s go, Darcy,” he says, steering her towards the bathroom. “We don’t need her.”

“Are you sure?”

He’s never heard Darcy sound so uncertain and knows he’ll have to bluff his way through this. When the Avengers aren’t around, the regular people must step up. Reminding himself of that has gotten Jimmy through more than one tough day on the job and he tells himself it’ll get them both through this.

“Of course.”

In the bathroom, Darcy kicks out of her underwear and uses Jimmy as a crutch to climb into the tub. Her face is scrunched up severely and her hands are braced against the walls of the bathtub, so he tries to watch and understand what she needs. When all the tension in her face and body burst out in a shout, he grabs her hand. Her fingers curl around his palm in a death grip.

“How about some nice warm water? Water, Darcy?”

She nods rapidly, eyes clenched shut, and he turns on the facet, then quickly reaches behind her to plug the drain. The stream wets his sleeve and, when he withdraws his arm, hits her hair around the level of her shoulders and begins to soak the back of her dress. Between contractions, Darcy sighs in what sounds like relief.

“That feels good,” she acknowledges.

“Good,” is all Jimmy can say back. He kisses her face and squeezes her hand in his. “Good.”

He’s back to scrambling for a solution soon enough when the warm flow of water down her back stops being enough to soothe her. He helps her out of her sodden dress, tossing it behind him to splat on the tile floor.

“What do you need?” he asks wildly, leaning over the tub.

“Earplugs,” Darcy tells him before emitting a scream shrill enough to probably be heard by their neighbour’s dog, Dipper, down the street.

Jimmy doesn’t think, he just does. Snatching a towel off the rail, bracing his wife’s foot against his shoulder as her leg spasms, reaching into the water to collect their baby when the Hex (he assumes) does them the favour of letting one long push be sufficient to expel him. Him. Jimmy and Darcy’s son.

He’s beaming through the happy tears, delicately wiping at the wailing baby with the towel and passing him into Darcy’s outstretched arms as she shakes with astonished laughter, hair wet, head resting back against the jut of the faucet.

“That wasn’t so hard,” he jokes.

Darcy sits up, sending a splash of water over the side of the bathtub to slap the floor, and he knows the Hex is interfering again to make her capable of anything besides exhaustion after what she just accomplished. She twists sideways in the tub until she’s closer to Jimmy. He wraps an arm around her wet shoulders and peers down at the face of their boy, already drowsy after exercising his tiny lungs. Jimmy can feel Darcy studying his face.

“Jimmy Woo Junior?” she asks.

And he knows the rest is going to be gravy.

—

Inside the Hex, the magic of television is real. They didn’t need to fake Darcy’s pregnancy with a cushion to make her belly, round and taut as a beach ball, disappear entirely only minutes after giving birth. They didn’t need a set of twins or triplets playing Jimmy Woo Jr. to swap in a quiet baby for one that starts to cry. There’s no trick lighting or fudged angles, just Darcy sitting on the couch (in dry, non-maternity clothes) catching their amazingly calm, less than an hour-old son up on the details of his origin story—Darcy’s wording.

It’s shaping up to be a nice, if highly unusual, family day in, until the tension starts to mount on-screen. Probably something Jimmy could’ve caught sooner if he weren’t spending 50 seconds out of every minute stroking the baby’s teeny-weeny hands while he hopes Jimmy Jr. retains zero memory of his dad’s mustache. When he hears Monica mention Wanda’s brother by name, he’s fully alert to the episode and knows he has to act. That close to Wanda, Monica’s control should be fully suppressed beneath the character of Geraldine. If she’s breaking through to ask Wanda person questions, questions that are almost definitely going to provoke an emotional response, Monica must be fighting like crazy to surface. Jimmy decides that’s his signal to get over there and help bring this thing to a satisfying conclusion so they can all leave the Hex.

“You’re not going to Wanda’s without me,” Darcy informs him, planted in front of the door when Jimmy returns from grabbing his keys.

“Darcy, you can’t. The baby. I’d stay with him and let you go, but I’ve never heard you mention particular skill in hand-to-hand combat and I can’t guarantee things won’t turn violent.”

She snorts.

“Liar. I could be the world’s biggest hand-to-hand badass and you’d still be trying to protect me right now.”

He stares at her and Darcy stubbornly lifts her chin as she holds his eyes.

“Ok,” Jimmy concedes, “yes, I would.”

“Please don’t leave us here,” she says, cheek pressed to the baby’s. No, no, no, he can already feel himself wanting to surrender, to have them with him. Darcy kisses their son’s face, then holds his hand to gesture while she pitches her voice higher, pretending to speak for Jimmy Jr. “I want to meet Auntie Monica.”

He gives her a look and reaches past her to open the door. Instead of trying to exit around his family, he waves Darcy through ahead of him. (She looks down at the baby in her arms and goes “Yaaaay! Isn’t Daddy a soft touch?”)

“You didn’t persuade me,” he says, leading them to the car and holding the door for Darcy while she climbs into the back seat with the baby. “This is strategic.”

“Is the strategy common sense? I feel like you should’ve gone with that from the beginning. Bringing a scientist to a magic fight is good thinking, for, like, balance and shit.”

Jimmy backs down the driveway as gently as he can. Their car’s been modernized (well, for the latest decade) and while it now has seatbelts, it wasn’t equipped with a car seat for their son. He’s going to have to drive with the utmost care.

“Hopefully, there won’t be a fight,” he reminds Darcy, “but if there is, you won’t be anywhere near it. You and Jimmy Junior are staying in the car. Alright?”

When he darts his gaze to the rear-view mirror, he sees his wife looking out her window, making a show of not listening to him. Jimmy sighs.

Without thinking, he navigates back to the street where they dropped Monica off yesterday. Wanda’s house is just down from Dottie’s; he remembers the number from watching WandaVision. Jimmy draws up to the curb and parks. He glances back at Darcy, but she’s still ignoring him.

“I’ll try to be right back,” he tells her anyway, eyes dropping longingly to the serene face of his sleeping son. He’s heard that about babies and car rides.

Jogging up the driveway, he does a doubletake of a ragged slash in the wall between Wanda’s property and her neighbour’s. There’s not exactly anything wrong with a damaged cinderblock or an amateur handyman job, but the crevice in the stone stands out in a world so aggressively styled and manicured.

Wishing for the reassurance of his gun at his hip in case things go south (it’s the first time he’s even thought about the gun since the night he and Darcy arrived), Jimmy enters the Vision residence without knocking.

Orienting himself to what he was just watching on TV in a house less than a mile from here, he walks across the entryway, attracting the attention of both Wanda and Monica. They’re standing across from each other in the living room. Raising his hands to show he intends no harm, Jimmy sweeps his eyes over the scene in assessment, like he has a hundred times before. Monica’s expression is alarmed under superficial friendliness—the look of someone trying to placate an attacker. With her aggressive, forward-leaning posture and the way she’s positioned herself between Monica and the cribs (he’s surprised to see more than one, but he did miss some of the episode while he was delivering his son in their bathtub), Wanda fits that role.

“Wanda,” he says, taking a step towards the seating area, “you don’t want to hurt her.”

“Are you working with her?” Wanda demands. “Who are you? I’ve never seen you before.”

“James Woo. I’m not here to hurt you. Neither is Geraldine.”

“You don’t want to hurt me? Then why do you come asking questions? Saying things—” He can see her chin wobble from here as she teeters on the edge of tears. “—about Pietro. You didn’t know my brother.”

Her statement is directed at Monica, but Jimmy tries to bring her focus back to him. Of himself and the Captain, he’s the one with an exit at his back, whereas Monica’s hemmed in by a large bookcase.

“I didn’t know your brother,” Jimmy agrees. “I do know about him, but we don’t need to talk about that. I don’t want to upset you, Wanda, I just want you to let me leave with Geraldine.”

“Oh, I’ll let you leave,” Wanda says, cocking her head as she raises her hands. This motion conveys the opposite meaning to Jimmy’s—she does intend them harm.

He’s contemplating what’ll happen if he tries to rush her when Darcy charges through the front door he left open.

“Don’t!” Jimmy gasps, making a grab for her, but his body is tense with caution and Darcy has the momentum to dodge him, stepping down the level into the living room.

“Look,” Darcy demands of Wanda, whose expression is torn as she chooses between facing Monica and this new intruder.

Jimmy’s mentally composing and rejecting ideas of how to proceed when their unwelcoming host lowers her hands. She’s looking where Darcy directed her to, at the baby in Darcy’s arms.

“He was born less than an hour ago, and I only found out I was pregnant yesterday, but that doesn’t matter. I know it’s the same for you, the circumstances and the… yeah, whatever. You know about the Big Bang, right?” she continues, jumping to the next thought.

“Yes,” Wanda says carefully.

Jimmy’s terrified to move closer and set Wanda on the offensive again. He glances at Monica, who seems to be thinking the same thing, frozen in place.

“From nothing to so much, in an instant,” Darcy’s saying in her condensed history of the universe. “Science is supposed to be full of all these rules. Like, every scientist dude important enough to remember had some law or formula or method that we map everything on top of when we’re pretending we understand all this. Being in science isn’t a goal I’ve had for a long time—I mean, I probably wouldn’t be in it now if the world hadn’t more or less ended—and if all I ever heard about the workings of the universe was rules, I would’ve stayed away. Who likes rules, right? Who wants to be told that things are the way they are because something outside of your control says so? My point is…”

She takes a deep breath, then another one, shifting until she’s blocking Wanda’s expression from Jimmy’s view.

“Sorry, I just gave birth, you know how it is,” Darcy says when she goes on. Jimmy’s stricken with exasperation, adoration, fear, and pride. “My point is that I love science because, while science is laws and rules and equations, science is also standing outside at night and staring up at the dark. There are explanations for every light that’s up there and why, even when you’re away from big cities and the sky seems so black and close, you don’t fall up into it, although it kinda feels like you could. Science can tell me why, and it still feels like magic when I look at the stars. And we’ve all been traveling out here in space together, getting made and unmade and made again because the right ingredients needed to create something as precious as a planet, or a baby, or the clay that’ll make the bricks that’ll make the house never disappear. Suns explode, asteroids collide and get chipped away… things can separate down to their smallest part, life can…”

“End?” Wanda asks.

Jimmy’s stunned to hear the word come out choked. Cautiously, he leans to get a glimpse of Wanda’s face. It’s covered in tears. Darcy’s nodding.

“But everything’s valuable. All matter gets reused.” Jimmy wants to grab her and pull her to safety when she takes a step closer to Wanda. “I get it if you’re sad and you’re not ready to talk about it. I’m not gonna say it’s ok, because I’ve heard Monica’s testimonial on exactly how much it sucks to have you in her head, but I do think you should let us leave now so you have a few friends out there when you inevitably need people on your side.”

“You can go,” Wanda agrees, swiping at her nose. “I won’t hurt your baby.”

“You’re not going to hurt my friend either,” Darcy says, beckoning for Monica to cross the room behind her. “Or my husband.”

“No,” Wanda says.

Monica reaches Jimmy and they wait for Darcy in the entryway.

“I bet all that control feel really good,” Darcy theorizes. “Taking it into your own hands. But I think you know that focusing on the beautiful, magical stuff doesn’t mean the rules no longer exist. Maybe you can find a way to accept them both.”

“It’s time for you to leave,” Wanda says, firmer now.

“Not looking for a life coach, got it.”

She joins Jimmy and Monica, bouncing the baby lightly in her arms. Wanda ushers them out of the house ahead of her. Jimmy glances back to see her close the door after herself with a twist and red glow of her hands.

“What about waiting in the car?” he mutters to Darcy as they stride down the lawn.

His self-proclaimed wife stares at him.

“I’m not the kind of person who waits in the car. Would the kind of person who waits in the car give a speech like that?”

Jimmy’s at an honest-to-goodness loss for words.

She gets into the car willingly enough now, Jimmy in the passenger’s seat while Monica slides behind the wheel.

“Wanda’s told me how to stand, how to move, how to walk since I got in here,” Monica says, turning the key in the ignition. “I’m driving myself out.”

“It’ll part for you when you get there,” Wanda calls to them from the lawn. “The barrier. I suggest you do not attempt to enter again.”

“I think we’ve all had our fill,” Jimmy informs her cheerfully through his rolled-down window.

She doesn’t respond to this, so Monica executes a three-point turn and takes them back up the street the way they came. From there, they turn out of the subdivision, but Jimmy snags a last look at Wanda through the back window. There’s a light breeze blowing her dress and hair and she looks like she could be anyone. A suburban mom of twins? Why not. He doesn’t know if he’ll ever see her again in person, but he has plans to catch her show.

“Wanda’s changed the roads,” Monica says as she drives. For his son’s sake, Jimmy’s grateful that she isn’t speeding, though he wouldn’t blame her for trying to get out of here as quickly as possible. “None of them lead out of town.”

“Literal tourist trap. Brilliant,” Darcy declares from the back seat. Jimmy reaches an arm back blindly and feels her close her hand around his.

“But,” Monica adds, “I remember Ellis Avenue being the closest cross street to the edge of town. We find that, then drive over the grass. Things may get a little bumpy.”

“We’ll survive.”

Jimmy twists around to look at Darcy. He nods. They will. They’ll survive.

They cross Ellis and take the car off-road. The barrier remains invisible, but…

“I can feel it,” Darcy says.

“Like we did the day we came in,” Jimmy recalls.

“It still wants us out,” Monica interprets. He sees her staring uneasily ahead. “Was I naïve to think I could change anything by coming in here?”

“No, Captain. It was brave.”

“Didn’t work though. We aren’t leaving with Wanda.”

“It could work,” Darcy says. “We left her with a few things to think about. We’ll watch WandaVision and see.”

“That’ll be strange after being a part of it.”

“You think so?” Jimmy wonders. He takes a deep breath, enjoying the fresh air and the sunshine, playing with Darcy’s fingers laced through his. “I think it’s returning to regular life that’s going to feel strange. Out there, it’s easy to see all this as a TV show, but everything in here is real.”

“We’ll make Hayward understand that.”

“I’m bringing back some compelling evidence,” Darcy says, followed by kissy sounds directed at Jimmy Jr.

The air just a couple of car lengths ahead of them abruptly glows red as Wanda reveals the wall of the Hex. Jimmy and Monica exchange a look, but she doesn’t slow down. They pass through without resistance. All of a sudden, it’s night. Monica lets out a relieved sigh.

The S.W.O.R.D. base is looming, exterior lights ablaze, but Jimmy looks backwards, checking that Darcy and the baby are alright.

“Same as you left us,” she says, pulling back the blanket to show him the face of his son.

He gives her a slightly melancholic smile.

“Not quite, Dr. Lewis.”

“I’ll have a lot of work to do,” Darcy notes thoughtfully, “but time for you and me to go on dates will be on my list of demands.”

“You have a list of demands?” Monica asks, laughter in her voice.

“After being forced into the Hex, where I could’ve lost my life? Fuck yes, I have a list.”

“What else are you asking for?”

“The coffee I requested on day one and a desk in a better spot so there’s room next to it for the crib that will also be on my list.”

Monica laughs aloud now.

“Is this a benefits negotiation or a baby shower registry?”

“Let’s get back to the part where we’re going on dates,” Jimmy says. “How’s that going to work?”

“Jimmy, darlin’,” Darcy begins, “will you go out with me?”

He leans to look around his seat at her.

“Darcy, we were married. We have a baby. Don’t you think we can—”

“Answer the question, Agent Woo.”

“Of course I’ll go out with you,” he says.

“And that’s how it works. Easy-peasy.”

She gives his hand a squeeze before releasing it to hold Jimmy Jr. more securely as Monica pulls up to a building and brakes. Already, S.W.O.R.D. agents are rushing out to meet them, but Jimmy drops back against his seat and smiles to himself.

“‘Easy-peasy.’”

#my writing #Hex Life #wandavision #wandavision spoilers #Darcy Lewis #Jimmy Woo #Darcy Lewis x Jimmy Woo #Darcy x Jimmy

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theres-an-impulstor-among-us · 3 years ago

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Friday Night Stabby best quotes part 19 (23/04/21)

*the crew enter for the first game of the day* Etho: I forgot how to play.

...

Joker: Where was Skizz? Brody: Skizz is dead. Joker: Okay, and where was Skizz’s hair? Impulse: Oh gosh. Etho: Probably also dead somewhere. Evil: Maybe Skizz’s hair strangled him.

...

Etho: I found Mrs Tango in storage. Brody: Excuse me. WE found Mrs Tango. How DARE you. Etho: Okay. WE may have found Mrs Tango in storage.

...

Astro: Did you decide to kill [Skizz] because you didn’t want to see his hair anymore? Joker: Oh if I was gonna kill him because of his hair, I would’ve done that a long time ago. Impulse: First kill, yeah. Joker: Yup, that would definitely have been my first kill.

...

Astro: You’ve been quiet, Joker. And Skizz is dead again. Joker: Uh, yeah. He is. I’m busy celebrating because his hair is no longer visible. Tango: *votes* Joker: Tango, are you voting for me? Tango: I dunno. Joker: You’re a liar. Whatever.

...

Mrs Tango: I just realised I was muted. Brody: She was muted. We were just with her and she was muted. Mrs Tango: And I have a problem pushing buttons. Brody: That’s not true, you press my buttons all the time. Joker: That’s not hard to do, though.

...

Etho: Whatcha got, Skizzle? Skizz: Dude, I’m telling you. Joker was the speedy one and I’m gonna tell you loud and proud: I WISH I was the one who killed him but I-I didn’t. Lower engine, I saw nobody. Brody: That’s not really- That’s not really selling me. Skizz: I wanted so badly to be the one to kill him. I know you can hear me, Joker.

...

Brody: I was on the far right side of the map. Endless: I can confirm that Brody was over there cuz I was harassing him. Brody: Annoyingly, he was.

...

Evil: Not good, Brody. Not good. Brody: What? What’s not good? Evil: The fact that you were running away as I watched Tango’s body fall. Brody: You cannot confirm that. Evil: I- I can. Brody You sure can’t. Evil: I sure can.

...

*Astro, Joker, and Impulse are dead, Skizz is giant imposter* Etho, alive: -so the lovers must’ve been Astro and Impulse. Astro: Nope, we weren’t lovers. That slow, gigantic little jerk just killed all of us. Impulse: Who killed you, Joker? Joker: Uh, Endless did. Endless did and Skizz came right by me. Astro: I mean, Skizz was right there too. Skizz is the other killer. Impulse: Yeah, Endless killed me, then Skizz killed Astro, then Endless killed Joker, I got it. Astro: Okay. So I’m the only one who suffered the disgrace of being killed by the giant.

...

Etho: *reports a body* Tango, immediately: Whoa! I just saw Tango Tek run right by me! That was cool! Brody: Did you? Tango: I sure did! *pause* Etho: Hey everybody!

...

Astro: Skizz, I hate you. Skizz: *laughs* Astro: How DARE you kill me [as giant]. Impulse: Killed by a giant! Ouch! Astro: How DARE you. Skizz: I know! It was SO great, dude! I was SO slow! And the best part was Endless had just gotten a kill and you came in, I was all “I’ll take care of that”. Astro: I… I’m gonna go stand in a corner and feel bad about myself.

...

Skizz: Hey, buddy. Don’t kill me, please! Impulse: Why? Skizz: Cuz I don’t wanna die!? That’s a weird question!

...

Tango: OH is [Joker] a giant murderer? Etho: He’s a giant murderer. Joker: How DARE you, sir. Tango: Don’t vote him out! This is comical. I wanna enjoy this. Joker: How DARE you! Impulse: Let him suffer! Joker: WHAT DO YOU MEAN LET ME SUFFER?!

...

*Tango’s body is reported, Joker is giant* Joker, laughing: I don’t even care! It was worth it! Evil: I found Joker. Impulse: He got one. He got one, did he? Evil: He got Tango! Etho and Impulse: *laugh* Impulse: Tongo couldn’t run fast enough. Evil: So the question is do we leave Joker in or do we kick him out? Joker, still laughing: Tango ran into a corner! It was so funny! Impulse: I guess we gotta get him this time. Joker: Wait hold on, can I just say how funny it was that Tango was like “c’mon big boy, what are you gonna do?” and then ran and got trapped in a corner! Cuz the thing wasn’t there to take across! Impulse, laughing: Oh no! Joker: And the only other thing he could do was go down a ladder and get stuck! Oh, so worth it.

...

Astro: I can kinda vouch for Evil because I was up in the shower having a real hard time and he was- he was coaching me. Evil: Ah- Uh- I- Joker: *bursts out laughing* Evil: I- I was helping you in the shower, you are right. Brody: Uhhhhhh… Etho: No jokes. No jokes, please. Brody: No jokes?! What?! Etho: Nothing, nothing. Brody: Why do you hate fun?! ...

Endless: Whoever was responsible for sabotaging communications over and over again can- can do things. Astro: What would- What would- What would you like me to do, Endless? What- What would you like me to do? :) Endless: You know what you can do, sir.

...

Impulse: Keys or you’re sus! *Impulse and a few others run up to keys despite not having the task* Impulse, laughing: Look how many people did! Skizz: You’re a jerk! Impulse: Gottem!

...

Astro: I’d like to speak to the room here. Will everybody PLEASE stop killing my lovers! I’m tired of it!

...

Tango: Endless’s body is right at the bottom of the entry chute, right- in Happy Town. Mrs Tango: What? What’s Happy Town? Tango: Ohoho. If I was imposter, I’d show you >:)

...

Etho: Joker, where were you? Joker: I don’t know. Etho: Joker…! Why must you do this to me?

...

Impulse: I’m sorry Etho, I was a worthless imposter. Skizz: Impulse, you were a better imposter last round when you weren’t imposter.

...

Impulse: When I called out “keys or you’re sus” at the start, Joker didn’t go do keys. Etho: Gotta be honest, Impulse, sometimes I don’t do keys just to spite you. Impulse: ...fair enough. Tango: That makes me so happy in my core right now.

...

Impulse: The bones have gone bad, okay? The bones have gone bad. Brody: I still like your bone, Impulse. Impulse: Thank you, ‘ppreciate that. Evil: Wow… Brody: What? What?! Impulse: It’s not weird. Evil: No, not at all.

...

Joker: *calls a meeting* Joker: I’ve discovered something about Skizz. *pause* Etho: Voting Skizz! Skizz: Do you wanna elaborate, here?! Joker: No, I cannot. But we should vote for Skizz. *pause* Etho: Voting Skizz!

...

Skizz: So it’s Brody and Mrs Tango. Brody: How is it Mrs Tango? Skizz: I dunno, she voted for me. Brody: That’s not how that works.

...

*after Evil sheriffed imposter Tango in the first 10 seconds of the game* Impulse, getting voted out: I’m deleting this vod. It’s not getting uploaded to YouTube. Brody: Aww, sad. Evil: And- And now I’m gonna get yelled at- Tango, loud enough to wake the dead: EVIL YOU JERK!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

...

Brody: I’m gonna tell you why Evil’s the best right now. [Tango] just screamed at all levels and I didn’t get a headache from it so my life is complete. Tango: Thank you for my new compressor, yes. Evil: Because Tango has a compressor now. Brody: Yes, because he has a compressor. Tango: I NEED MY COMPRESSOR!!!! Brody: Yeah, see? It’s perfect. Etho: This is nice.

...

Etho: It’s usually not good to go to specimen first round cuz usually a body gets reported right away and you won’t finish your tasks. Endless: Oh, right. Cuz the imposter’s stupid. Got it.

...

Endless: So guys, remember that game when Joker didn’t get in and we had a great time without him? Tango: That was a good game. Joker: Oh my gosh! Impulse: That actually was the best round of the night, yeah. Joker: WOW.

#friday night stabby quotes #friday night stabby #impulsesv #tangotek #skizzleman #etho #mrstango #brodyman #theendless #astrozoan #evilnotion #misterjoker

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mbti-notes · 4 years ago

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Anon wrote: INFJ here. One thing that I dislike about myself is that I am really avoidant and shy. I can't stand my ground or defend myself or others. I either doubt my rightfulness or worry about the other party yelling, beating me or overreacting.

I went to a butcher's with someone and the guy prepared us the wrong meat. The quality was a bit worse than the one we originally picked. The guy was still insisting and trying to sell it to us. Me being a pushover, accepted it easily. It was the wrong meat, but the guy had prepared it for us. And the guy could lash out and show a bad reaction.

However, the person who was with me went and confronted the guy and didn't back down, until the guy changed the meat and gave us the original good quality one. The whole time, I was worried about the butcher yelling at her or saying something hurtful. As we left, she told me to stop being weak and afraid of holding my ground, and learn to defend myself. I wish I were like her, but I clearly lack this skill and can't defend myself or others close to me, because I'm avoidant and confrontation-averse. I either don't know if I have to confront, or I'm afraid of the other person's reaction. I usually just smile and accept things.

I'm even afraid of driving and refuse to drive because I'm afraid of having to confront people for car-related or driving-related things. How can I improve myself in this manner and get thick-skinned? What sorts of steps can I take before putting myself into a (exposure) situation where I have to confront a potentially aggressive person?

__________________

Not knowing how to speak up for yourself harms you in several ways:

Low self-awareness: When you aren’t even aware of your own needs, desires, rights, and boundaries, you don’t really know yourself.

Low self-worth: What is your existence when you don’t even recognize that you and your needs matter just as much as everyone else’s?

Unable to care for yourself: When you don’t recognize your emotional needs or don’t recognize that they are important, you won’t work to fulfill them, which means that you won’t tend properly to your psychological well-being. This makes you more prone to suffering mental health problems.

Unable to protect yourself: When YOU can’t even respect your own needs, desires, rights, and boundaries, it’s a signal to others that it’s okay to dismiss you or violate you. Unfortunately, some people in this world don’t hesitate to take as much as they can from others. They look specifically for people like you because you let them get away with it.

Identify the root of the problem. Everything you think, feel, and do is rooted in fear. You have an overreactive fear reflex that leads you to always expect the worst from people. Do you honestly believe that the majority of people are violent rageaholics? People may get upset but it doesn’t mean that they’re going to attack you viciously. Is there a reason why your view of the world is so negative and extreme?

Fear is an emotional problem, which means that you have to work on your emotional intelligence. You’re trying to be smart by anticipating how events will go, which is natural for Ni doms. However, you only ever see how things could turn out horribly, which immediately activates fear. When your mind is so easily hijacked by fear and its related emotions, how can you think straight, let alone formulate a good strategy for handling a problematic situation?

Avoidance is exactly the wrong strategy because 1) it keeps you passive and stuck in weakness, and 2) you never develop the skills that you need to grow and solve this problem. To solve a problem, the first step is to confront it, then you can examine it and come up with a solution. INFJs who struggle with auxiliary Fe development usually struggle with learning social skills. If your fear and anxiety are extremely deep-seated (i.e. a result of serious past trauma), then it is also a good idea to get professional therapy. Unresolved trauma makes the process of learning new skills more difficult than it has to be, so it should be dealt with first.

When you don’t know how to do something (i.e. incompetency), it’s natural to be apprehensive because you feel like you have no control over anything. Thus, increase your social competency. Having good social skills allows you to think about social situations with more nuance and sophistication, as opposed to defaulting immediately to the most extreme scenario. Social skills are just like any other skill in that you have to study, practice, and improve systematically.

The following skills work together to improve social competency:

Emotional Intelligence: Be aware of feelings and emotions, both your own and others’. De-escalate intense emotions to keep a clear and calm head. Assess situations based on facts rather than fear, so that you can stop treating everyone as a threat and build common ground instead.

Communication Skills: Express yourself and your needs effectively. Respond to other people’s needs effectively. Ask the right questions to clarify situations and avoid miscommunication. Diffuse tension with empathy and diplomacy. Negotiate compromises.

Assertiveness Training: Know your rights, enforce your boundaries, and speak up for what you are owed. Treat your needs and goals as important. Ask for help or support as needed. Develop strategies for expressing yourself in specific scenarios that you’ve repeatedly found difficult to navigate.

Conflict Resolution: Have a strategy for dealing with conflict. Have ways to test how amenable people are to discussion and compromise. Have ways of making reasonable requests without anger or aggression. Have good contingency plans for when situations get out of your control.

Nobody is born with this knowledge. Most people learn social skills by socializing, making mistakes, and doing better the next time. The longer you’ve avoided natural experimental learning, the worse your skills will be. If experimental learning is too much for you, due to unmanageable fear and anxiety, learn on your own first so that you feel more prepared. There are plenty of resources out there. See the Emotional Well-Being section, the relevant tags, and the resources list for book recommendations on the above topics.

#infj #auxiliary fe #social skills #social anxiety #emotional intelligence #assertiveness #self worth #confidence #self care #boundaries #catastrophizing #ask

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myketheartista · 4 years ago

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The Masquerade: How They Came To Be

This is a small headcanon type of thing that I thought of the morning after the stream, so I’m obviously obsessed with these two so much to the point where I made lore for how Sir Billiam and his butler met. To make things easier on myself, I just called the butler Ranboo since I didn’t want to mess too much with canon by giving him a new name.

***Warnings: Light violence, mentions of killing/death, manipulation (from the egg, but just thought I’d include it just in case)***

**Please remember that this is not canon. I took some liberties and assumed a few things based on prior knowledge. Oh, and don’t take things out of context. This is NOT shipping, and I’m putting this here because I know some people will question the way I write them interacting. I don’t condone any shipping with Ranboo or Techno, and that goes for any and all characters they play.

Please enjoy! And leave your thoughts if you’d like :)

Billiam finds the egg. Builds the mansion around it to keep it safe and hidden because it seems like something bizarre enough that could earn him a good sum of money. Sell pieces of it, get rich, live a long, good life swimming in wealth.

He wants to see what it does too, but the more time he spends with it, the more corrupts his mind becomes. Soft whispers that scratch at the walls of his head, telling him to give-- give himself, give others, just give to the egg. And in the beginning stages, it isn’t so bad. He just sees the egg as something valuable. Value slowly transitions into a sort of obsession. He must protect it, feed it, take care of it so no one else will hurt it. If he helps the egg, it’ll help him.

So when he finds a young boy wandering through the endless sea of trees surrounding his estate, he grows a bit defensive. It’s just some random kid, an inch or two shorter than Billiam with messy chocolate brown hair and a dazed look in his eyes (Oh, and he’s definitely lower than a commoner, just look at the mess he is!). Tattered clothes, no shoes, patches of dirt dusting his face and hands; he’s an awful sight. But a peculiar one at best with the notable pointed ears and extra set of canines fitted snug next to the original pair. Whatever he is, Billiam knows that he isn’t a threat, and he can recognize that much through the fog clouding his brain telling him to get rid of this unwelcomed stranger. More than anything, he pities him, and a frown crosses his lips when he tries to get some answers out of the kid, but he’s met with a confused tilt of the head and awkward silence. Well, by observing his overall condition, Billiam concludes that he has no where to go.

So...he takes him in. Not because he cares! He really shouldn’t and doesn’t care for someone of such low status, but seeing Ranboo scarf down a whole plate of whatever Billiam could find along with some cake and a few glasses of water makes him feel a bit uneasy...about- about how much food he can eat, yes, of course. If he’s going to be staying here, he can’t go around eating everything they have. He’ll have to set some ground rules for this new guest. Such as throwing out those old clothes and giving him one of his own dress shirts and a well-made vest he never ended up wearing. Ranboo asks him for help with his tie much too often, and that’s something that should aggravate him, (inability to do anything on his own, how annoying) but he finds himself walking Ranboo through the process each time he’s called for. All the while, as he helps this kid learn the ropes and shows him around, those harsh whispers demand he stop. Get rid of him. He stares at Ranboo, the boy who can’t even speak the language of this planet, can’t remember where he came from, hates eye contact and taking showers, doesn’t even know what he is, and he wonders how the egg could even tell him to kill someone as innocent as him.

Billiam decides he’ll be his butler. Ranboo doesn’t protest since he doesn’t even know what a butler is, but he agrees without complaint. Some conversation over dinner that turned into a fake contract that neither of them signed, but Billiam made the deal that Ranboo can stay if he does his part which was simply obeying him when he asked for the butler. This...quickly got out of hand. Whenever there’s a party and a handful of guests crowd through the front doors, Billiam makes it known that he has a butler, and a very bad one at that. Calls him in that sing-song voice and requests he fetch their new arrivals some wine only to degrade him and claim he’s going a week without food afterwards. Ranboo really doesn’t mind, partially because he can’t even refuse or talk back due to the limitations of his knowledge of the unfamiliar language of this place, but he’s also become a bit dedicated to serving Billiam. The man practically saved his life and gave him everything he could want. When he is allowed to speak, he’s always asking how many words since that’ll guide him towards forming a more accurate sentence with letters and syllables he’s not used to. More often than not, he sticks to humming his responses to make it easier on himself. Even then, there’s not much to worry about. He’s bad with social interaction and the guests rarely pay attention to him, so he often hides in the corner as they all participate in their games and conversations regarding the economy. The more he excludes himself, the more he misses the frequent disappearances of the guests. He never questions Billiam where they went, why they left so early into the evening, why the mansion has terrible lighting problems, (they should get that fixed, it’s quite troublesome) he just enjoys the eventual peace and quiet that fills their home once everyone is gone.

The parties increase throughout the months that Ranboo resides there. It’s exhausting being a butler when all he’s required to do is follow people’s orders-- how does Billiam do it? He’s the one who hosts them, greets everyone, plans the festivities and everything. He should ask him about that sometime. Instead of pestering him, he finds himself watching from the stairs as Billiam catches up with yet another group of friends. Hm...why doesn’t he just invite the same people over? Being rich must make you a lot of friends. But these people seem snobby and annoying. Ranboo doesn’t like them very much. He prefers to stay the way he is, and if that means he remains a “commoner”, then so be it. Billiam, on the other hand, doesn’t mind stepping into a new character every time he hosts one of these masquerades. The weird airy sound to his voice makes him appear friendlier, more trustworthy, but it always makes Ranboo put a fist to his mouth to stifle his laughter. It’s utterly ridiculous and almost childish, but it’s entertaining nonetheless.

He enjoys the soft conversations they share in their far too big of a home when things are back to normal (And when did he start calling it their home?). They usually pass the time by Ranboo asking questions and Billiam responding to the best of his ability which makes him seem smarter than he probably is. But for someone who can’t seem to remember where they came from or how to communicate, Ranboo is grateful for anything Billiam can give him.

So one night, when he thinks they’ve grown close enough to where Ranboo can consider them friends, he wanders the mansion to find Billiam-- wants to ask him something, but he’s nowhere to be found. It’s been months since he’s lived here, and he thinks he knows every nook and cranny of the mansion but…the longer he stares at that duplicate of a spider painting Billiam apparently commissioned someone to make despite the same painting hanging just a few feet over, he starts to feel an itch in the back of his mind. And when he finds the courage to move it aside, finds a secret entrance to a room he’s never seen before, he’s honestly baffled. The atmosphere of the room makes him feel off, and that itch starts to grow, manifests into a voice trying to peel through his thoughts and gain control. It makes him feel...uncomfortable…wrong. And when he sees Billiam standing at the end of the room, back facing him while he stares at a large red mass with vines trailing off of it, up the walls and across the floor tangling around Billiam’s feet, that discomfort shifts to something a little colder. He wanders into the room with light feet and a dry mouth, struggling to get his voice to work.

“Sir?”

The word doesn’t feel as foreign as other words do since it’s the one thing he’s gotten the hang of saying. He sees the visible tension build in Billiam’s shoulders and watches him turn around slowly to look at him, a chill trickling down his spine when he spots the sword in his hand. He gets no response, just a rather lifeless stare from Billiam. He speaks up again.

“Sir, what are you doing?”

It’s as if he was stuck in some sort of trance cause in an instant, a soft smile breaks out onto Billiam’s face and he gestures at Ranboo.

“What wonderful timing! Come closer, I’d like to show you something.”

Ranboo feels strange, but he pushes down the crippling sensation of dread pooling in his stomach and walks up to settle next to Billiam. He feels the light touch of a hand on his back, tensing up as he stares at the oddly shaped...something before them.

“What is this?”

Billiam looks so giddy when he hears the question.

“It’s the egg.”

And Ranboo breaks away from the “egg” to stare at Billiam.

“Pardon?”

Billiam looks at him, and it’s now that Ranboo notices the glint in his eye, the way his once brown irises swirl with red, and the look he gives him reminds him of the expression he wore when they first met.

Pity.

“My dear butler, it’s the egg! It’s a truly magnificent thing, is it not?”

And Ranboo can only stare awkwardly between the egg and the man who he’s lived with all of his life because what the hell is he going on about?

“I, uh,... I don’t seem to understand.”

Billiam’s expression softens, still holding that little ounce of pity that Ranboo has begun to dislike.

“You’ll understand soon enough. Come.”

And the hand on his back gently pushes him forward, guiding him as they walk, and Ranboo feels his heels involuntarily drag against the stone floor, putting up some resistance. That pool of dread begins to manifest into something else. An icy, prickling puddle of fear. Billiam is putting himself behind him as Ranboo draws closer to the egg, and the whispering only grows louder, clawing at his brain and sending a jolt of pain to his skull as it screams at him. It’s becoming too much, it hurts, but Billiam’s hand seems to latch onto the back of his vest, twisting and pushing him downwards just inches from the egg to where he’s on his knees and his hands are planted on the cold concrete below him. He realizes, as goosebumps trail up his arms and his eyes begin to sting, that he’s never quite felt fear before up until now. He doesn’t like it too much. All he can do is stare at the red in front of him, watch as the little vines underneath his hands sprout up from the cracks of the floor and curl around his fingers. The grip on his vest tightens, and he’s painfully reminded who’s doing this to him.

“Do you hear it?”

He just nods, exhaling shakily and struggling to take in any air as the panic settles inside of his chest.

“It’s loud.” He voice wavers as it comes out weak and afraid, and he hears Billiam hum, pleased with the answer.

“What’s it saying?”

And he can’t respond because he doesn’t know, it’s speaking a language he’s never heard, he can’t translate it. He feels the urge to hurt, to kill, to follow, to obey, feels fingers digging into his brain and pulling him forward as if he understands what it’s saying after all, but it all seems like gibberish to him. He feels nothing but everything at once. The grip on his vest tugs lightly, and he swallows thickly.

“I...I don’t know.”

He can practically feel the disappointment radiating off of Billiam when he gives the answer, and he suddenly regrets saying anything at all. He hears Billiam shift and the grip loosens by just a hair.

“Is he not worthy?” Billiam mutters to himself, but…it sounds like it’s directed to someone. Some thing. Ranboo doesn’t know, but it’s said so quietly and sounds…sad. After a few seconds of silence and Ranboo watching those tiny red vines curiously curl even more around his fingers and onto his hand in an attempt to travel up his wrist, he feels the hand leave his back. A sigh escapes him, and he goes to push himself off of the ground to sit on his knees, but a sharp pain quickly replaces the hand, breaking through the layers of fabric and grazing the skin of his back. A strangled noise crawls out of his throat and he ducks his head, trying to arch his back away from the tip of the sword angled towards him.

“Sir?” He sounds so pathetic, so desperate, he doesn’t want to jump to conclusions but he feels like he’s about to be killed by the man who took him in and that’s certainly not settling well in his stomach. Billiam remains silent and that’s what scares him because silence doesn’t seem like a good thing, especially in a situation such as this. The silence lasts for what seems like minutes, but he hears a frustrated huff come from behind him and the sword disappears from his back right when he thinks it’ll slip through him.

“Stand up.”

Ranboo is quick to obey, ignoring the trembling in his legs and wringing his hands together to calm the light shaking that’s taken over them. He hesitantly turns to look at Billiam who’s staring back at him with those red eyes that seem a bit duller this time around. He wants to back away when Billiam moves towards him, but his feet refuse to move and a hand comes down on his shoulder, gentle and somewhat comforting despite the situation.

“You don’t feel anything?”

It seems like he’s desperate now, looking for an answer that will settle the uncertainty bubbling in the pit of his stomach. Brows furrowed, lips pressed into a thin line, and red eyes beginning to lose their glow. Somewhat back to normal. Ranboo pauses for a long moment, hesitant, terrified, legs shaking and throat closing up at the thought of what Billiam will do if he receives an answer he isn’t particularly fond of.

“...No.”

It takes his entire body to force the word out because even though he was on his knees moments ago, pleading that he’d wake up, that this was just a very intense dream where everything felt too real for his liking, somewhere deep down he believes Billiam won’t be mad and kill him right where he stands. That expression only reassures him because it’s coming from the only person he knows to trust.

Billiam sighs again and looks down, a bit defeated, maybe even confused because what is he to do now? He can’t even go through with sacrificing this kid he’s grown a damn attachment to and that’s a problem. If he isn’t the one to admit it, the egg is there to remind him. His hand slides down Ranboo’s arm, hanging limply by his side as his voice grows quiet.

“Do you trust me?”

And Ranboo doesn’t have anything else to say but the immediate “Yes.” that follows. Billiam looks up at him, a bit surprised but gaze a tad softer than it was before.

“What was your name again?”

Ranboo’s hands wring together some more, and he mindlessly picks at the vines that have embedded themselves into his skin. He goes to speak, but his tongue falls differently against the roof of his mouth and clicks against his teeth in a way that Billiam won’t understand. And even though that ends up being true, Billiam still smiles at him and a trickle of warmth spreads throughout Ranboo’s chest.

“Just do as I say, and you’ll be fine.”

Ranboo can’t find it in him to defy what Billiam says.

So when he gives him the sword and tells him to kill the guests that enter their home, he does so without question. He follows his commands as gentle as they are, and he listens to the garbled whispering brushing the edges of his mind. And if his eyes appear a bit redder when he goes to look in the mirror, he doesn’t bring it up to Billiam. He still picks at those little red vines that have melded into his skin as he watches the larger vines of the egg curl around the bodies he’s dragged to this secret room, hidden away from any curious eyes. And throughout the ruthless killings and Ranboo’s slow descent into madness, Billiam continues to treat him the same way, apologizing later on for the small scar on his back. He simply shrugs the apology off and gives him a smile, dragging…what was his name again? James? The name rings a bell, but he disregards the vague feeling of guilt crawling its way into his chest and continues to drag him away by the legs.

Even when he goes back to get Karl and sees the edges of his body disintegrating into little white speckles of what looks like dust, he doesn’t question it or show Billiam. Delivers his body to the egg regardless of whatever strange deterioration Karl’s body was undergoing. Another party, another meal for the egg. As long as Billiam is happy, so is his loyal butler.

#headcanon machine goes brr #dsmp drabbles #dream smp #tales from the smp #sir billiam #ranbutler #technoblade #ranboo #mcyt #dsmp #dream smp fanfic #fanfic #long post #dream smp fic #tftsmp #AND THERE WE GO #took me a few days to edit it and make it pretty but #i just thought of this the morning after the stream and i just #LOST my mind #i just enjoy soft billiam taking this kid in and making him a butler #them being goofy and having almost a mentor and apprentice typa thing goin on #and i do think ranboo isnt as effected by the egg at first because i like the whole desire thing #ranboo doesnt have any immediate desires since he never knew WHAT to desire but #after ranboo discovers billiam with the egg i think his desire becomes to serve billiam to the best of his ability #so he begins that slow descent into madness as i said above #but yeah! i like the headcanon that ranboo is still part enderman in this period of time but #more human than anything #still six feet like irl ranboo bc billiam is pretty tall for bein piglin and all but #the only traits he really has are extra pointy teeth and pointed ears #his height is barely effected

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