#I hope the strike afforded him some time with his kids

[coffee-and-uhg]

“Mi Familia” from Camila Sodi’s IG April, 2016

[stillness-in-green]

On Heteromorphs and Heteromorphobia (Arc XV - My Villain Academia)

(Skewing away from the wiki arc titles here, because come the eff on; everyone on god's green earth calls this My Villain Academia, not "The Meta Liberation Army Arc.")

At the request of a kind asker, I'm trying something different with footnotes this time; you'll find them at the end of the relevant bullet point, rather than at the bottom of the post. I've also flagged the numbers in purple, though I left the text itself the default color. I hope people find that a little easier to handle than having to scroll all the way to the bottom, have two tabs open, or wait until the end when they've forgotten the context.

Content Warning: Mentions of the KKK, as well as anti-Korean hate crimes/speech in Japan.

The My Villain Academia Arc (Chapters 218-240)

Chapter 218: 

Tsuyu’s weakness to cold is noted in-canon, rather than in a volume extra profile.   

All of the people featured specifically in the Detnerat commercial are heteromorphs—a four-armed woman, a walrus gent, and a little gelatinous boy.  Re-Destro pontificates about how people with these “newer types of bodies” struggled in the new era because they couldn’t find products that would meet their daily needs; mass production was not equipped—could never really be equipped—to handle the endless variety of body shapes and sizes that came about due to the Advent of the Extraordinary.  It recollects the mall scene back in Chapter 68—or, even further back, Ojiro’s character sheet and UA’s lack of varied desks—and calls the reader to consider, once again, the sorts of special needs that those with heteromorphic bodies might have, and how difficult it can be to meet those needs.    RD says that his company’s ability to rapidly customize and produce unique goods for every customer has made them #1 in their industry (lifestyle goods).  Assuming there’s at least some truth to the commercial shpiel—and the newscaster does at least call Detnerat “a big player”—it suggests that plenty of other companies are not so good at the rapid+customizable combination.  Of course, not all companies are trying to be all things to all people, but specialization costs money—as do speed and customization, really, and note that nowhere in the commercial is there a talking point about affordability!  So mainly what the commercial leaves me wondering is what degree of inconvenience is still felt by heteromorphs, especially those who are somewhat cash-strapped.    That strikes me as a particular hazard when it comes to child bullying.  Of course, Japanese schools have uniforms, but I wonder how available tailoring and alterations are for students with particular needs?  Is there a provided budget for that sort of thing?  Financial aid?  How much did Ojiro’s parents have to pay for him to have a full set of uniform pants with a hole for his tail in them?  How about Shouji getting all his uniform tops made sleeveless?  What arrangements had to be made for Shouto’s gym uniform to be fire retardant?    Even setting uniforms aside, there are also their social lives outside of school to consider.  Kids will absolutely notice when one of their number wears the same clothes all the time, or home-made clothes instead of name brand, or with obvious patchwork and repair.  As in real life, it’s at the intersections of more than one type of disadvantage—in this case, a heteromorphic body combined with a low-income family—that problems become more likely.

Here in 218, almost fifty chapters after the first mention of them, we finally get the proper introduction and explanation of the Meta Liberation Army.  Of course, they aren’t heteromorph-specific—the closest any of the named commander-types in RD’s inner circle get is Curious, with her bright blue skin and black sclera,[1] though certainly Re-Destro himself has drifted somewhat away from baseline compared to his ancestor.  Regardless, their foundational belief is the deregulation of quirks, stemming from a time when any deviation from the norm made meta-humans targets.  The compromise society reached—that quirks require a license to use—is restricting enough on those whose abilities are found with a baseline body, but, as I’ve brought up before, it makes life even more potentially fraught for heteromorphs.  That kind of thing is basically a pre-written excuse for heroes or police to stop and harass a heteromorph they don’t like the look of!  And while the evidence of that kind of bias has been pretty circumstantial thus far, it’s about to get way, way less so.    [1] Wacky hair colors being somewhat de rigueur in anime, we’ll give her a pass on the purple hair.

   Chapter 220: 

Here we finally hit the major leagues: the Creature Rejection Clan, or CRC.  The Japanese is igyou haiseki shugi shuudan, with igyou and shuudan being pretty straightforward—igyou is, of course, “heteromorph,” and shuudan is any sort of organized or self-identifying group of people, anything from a family unit to a business organization, even all the way up to a nation.  Haiseki shugi is the important bit, with shugi meaning “doctrine; principle” and haiseki meaning “rejection; expulsion; boycott; ostracism.”  Thus, “group whose doctrine is the rejection of heteromorphs.”[2]    Note that, in the Japanese, the word in the group’s name is heteromorph; they didn’t pick something more insulting or derogatory.  They didn’t really need to, since igyou is, as discussed back in the introduction to this piece, plenty derogatory all on its own.  So Caleb Cook went with a translation of igyou that would better get that derisiveness-in-the-context-of-a-hate-group across than his choice way back in Chapter 14.  Creature Rejection Clan is a fairly localized translation, but Cook was pretty frank in his Twitter thread on the chapter that he was thinking about the KKK when he made the decision.    And it’s not an unwarranted comparison!  Of course, I wouldn’t think to presume Horikoshi’s that up on the history of racism in the U.S., but combine the cod-religious trappings and the full robes and hoods with an explicit textual description of hate crimes, and it’s an extremely easy parallel to draw. [2] The Japanese also gives the abbreviation of CRC, with the databook eventually coming out and revealing that it really stands for the name they’ve chosen for themselves in English, the Curious Rejection Committee.

That established, it’s notable that Spinner, in describing them, says that they commit hate crimes against “people with heteromorphic quirks”—a nearly word-for-word translation of the Japanese igyou-gata no ningen.  This leaves aside the idea I’ve spent so much time talking about, that heteromorph discrimination is aimed broadly at those with heteromorphic bodies, and not only those with the more narrowly defined heteromorphic quirks.  Shortly, however, I’ll cover some evidence that Spinner is over-generalizing, or just misinformed.

In the meantime, take note of a few things the CRC guys[3] actually say here, starting with the fact that they call Spinner a lizard. Instantly, a word that was previously a snippy and dismissive little shrug in Dabi’s mouth takes on the weight and ugliness of a slur.    Further, they call the League of Villains “sins against nature”—or, in a more literal translation, “impure criminals.”  I provide the more literal translation there because it’s more specific.  My immediate question of the English translation would be whether the CRC judge the League as being sins against nature simply because of their criminality, or because of their association with Spinner, but the Japanese makes clear that there are two separate labels being flung there: the League are both criminals and impure.    This idea of impurity brings in a religious dimension to heteromorphobia, a dimension heightened by the line (dropped by the English translation) in which the CRC accuses the League of invading a sanctuary—in Shinto, shrines have to be kept pure.  The CRC calling their hideout a sanctuary, with the added context of, “They have a lizard with them.  How disgusting,” thus makes it pretty clear that the impurity is about Spinner’s presence, not just the League’s assorted crimes.  This spiritualistic justification for bigotry will later be made even more explicit in Shouji’s flashbacks.    [3] With skull masks right there on their hoods!  A real, “Are we the baddies?” moment, but given some of the other things we get on them later, it's possible the skulls are meant to contrast what e.g. Spinner or Koda’s skulls might look like: baseline human versus animalistic or “misshapen.” Credit to @codenamesazanka for connecting the dots on that!

Spinner also gives us here the line that I covered back in the terminology section at the beginning:

We’ll go with the official version this time.

So here we have the observation that the word absolutely everyone uses, the word that, as far as we know, academically defines an entire category of quirks, is an unpleasant, even rude word.  But what is the alternative?  We’re never given one.  Indeed, Spinner doesn’t suggest one; he says that the nice thing to do is “avoid” the word instead.  In other words, talk around it.  See again what I said at the start about all the difficulties baked into that prospect.

Later, we get the first drops of Spinner’s backstory, and hit again on the “lizard” thing, with the note that Spinner’s backwater, stuck-in-the-last-century hometown called him “the lizard freak.”  He grew up with it, grew accustomed to it, thought there was nothing he could do to change it—he might even have internalized it somewhat, though clearly by the time Chapter 160 rolled around he was ornery enough about it to complain.    It's perhaps also notable that Spinner knows who the CRC are.  Though we’ll later find out that their numbers have hugely diminished, he not only recognizes them, he’s not even surprised to see them—unlike many, Spinner knows the CRC never truly went away.  (Compare his lack of reaction to, for example, Shouji's unsuspecting classmates, who will later be shocked, just shocked, that this kind of ugliness still exists in their country.)    So just to state the obvious here, yes, the presence of active hate groups does irrevocably shift the lens on everything we’ve seen up to this point.  You can’t say calling a heteromorph an animal is harmless, a little insensitive at worst, maybe even meant as a cute nickname, when that same language is used by openly violent bigots.

The volume version gives us, at the end of the chapter, further notes on the CRC.  It’s full of relevant tidbits, so I’ll provide the text in its entirety:

Once superpowered society grew more stable and less chaotic, this group emerged, based around a lack of acceptance for those with body-altering quirks.  They started out with demonstrations and protests but eventually started committing violent hate crimes.  Most felt this was taking things too far, so the group saw a sharp decline in membership and a scattering of factions.  These days, one faction might only reject people with animal properties, while another focuses its hate on people with irregular heads.  These two, among others, have very few members left.  The faction that Tomura and the villains attacked was one that stood by the original group's fundamental tenets.

So what is there to gather from this?  Let’s break it down a point at a time.

“Once superpowered society grew more stable (...)”    If you’ve ever lived through a time of increasing acceptance for a marginalized group, particularly if that acceptance involves measures for legal protections being passed, you’ll recognize what this is.  Just to pick a few U.S. examples, the KKK didn’t exist until after the Civil War;[4] proactive federal bans on same-sex marriages didn’t start getting passed/proposed until individual U.S. states started legalizing them and civil unions.  When opposition to something is the norm, said opposition often doesn’t start organizing until they see that status quo being threatened; they weren’t organized before because they never imagined they’d need to be!  That’s what we see with the CRC: they didn’t formally declare themselves until it started looking like quirks—and especially non-baseline quirks—were going to find legal acceptance.    [4] Literally.  The last day of the war was May 26, 1865; the date the first Klan was founded was December 24 of the same year. Easily the most vile thing I learned in the process of writing this piece.   

“(…) based around a lack of acceptance for those with body-altering quirks.”   This is what I was referring to when I said Spinner's characterization of the CRC might be a little bit off: the CRC wasn’t founded because of a hatred for specifically heteromorphic quirks; they were founded because of a hatred for different bodies, a descriptor that could also apply to those with transformation-style quirks!  Those, too, are quirks that alter bodies, after all; it’s just possible for people to turn them off, which is not the case for those with heteromorphic quirks.  So Spinner was not quite on the mark before.    Further, note that the phrase “body-altering quirks” is used here—a phrase that’s similar in meaning and much less othering than igyou.  It doesn’t fully cover everything I use “heteromorphic” and “non-baseline” to cover, in that it’s still murky in situations like e.g. Cementoss’s, where his emitter quirk is entirely independent of his oddly shaped head, but it’s still a useful term!  Except for the small complication of where it isn’t found: anywhere in the actual story.  The fact that Horikoshi uses it in an author’s note, but it comes up nowhere in BNHA proper, puts it in an unclear place as far as in-universe alternatives go.  Has it just not come up because Horikoshi hasn’t thought to include it?  Or has it not come up because it’s not a phrase people in-universe use?

“They started out with demonstrations and protests but eventually started committing violent hate crimes.  Most felt this was taking things too far, so the group saw a sharp decline in membership and a scattering of factions.”    Confirmation here of what Spinner said about the CRC and hate crimes, but note what this doesn’t say: that the CRC was outlawed.  There are, I suspect, a couple of factors influencing that.   o Firstly, while Japan has legal methods to restrict undesirable organizations,[5] making it difficult for them to raise funds or engage in publicity, the country doesn’t actually de facto criminalize membership in such organizations.  That distinction is part of the legacy of violent crackdowns on labor groups and protest movements in the first half of the 20th century; people tend to get very loud about anything that whiffs of the government trying to give itself the power to get that heavy-handed again.    Assuming that the laws haven’t changed overmuch in HeroAca!Japan, then, I wouldn’t expect membership in the CRC to have been criminalized outright, but the volume extra doesn’t mention any kind of legal repercussions at all.  That, I think, may go more to my next point.    [5] The relevant laws are aimed mostly at terroristic groups or organized crime.      o Secondly, another thing Japan has very, very little of is hate crime legislation.  From my research, there are only two laws of any note: a federal law passed in 2016 and widely regarded as toothless thanks to it lacking any criminal provisions targeting offenders,[6] as well as a local ordinance passed in Kawasaki in 2019 that went as far as mandating fines against repeat offenders, among other measures.[7] [6] It required the government to start “implementing measures” to eliminate such speech/behaviors, as well as to “respond to requests for consultation” from victims, but did not directly mandate consequences for offenders. [7] I suspect from some of what I read that Osaka has picked up a similar ordinance, but I didn’t find anything detailing it specifically.  Osaka and Kawasaki are home to the largest and second-largest population of Koreans living in Japan. One major thing neither of these measures did, though—and something activists have been pressing for—is to establish standards for considering discriminatory motivations when issuing sentences against those who have committed violent crimes.  To pick an example that made the news last year, a man committed arson out of openly admitted hatred for the Koreans he targeted, but nowhere in the trial or discussion of his sentence did the prosecution ever bring up discrimination.[8]    [8] https://mainichi.jp/english/articles/20220829/p2a/00m/0na/015000c    Also, it’s worth noting that both of these measures were aimed at ethnic discrimination—speech and behavior targeting people living in Japan while being themselves, or being children of, people of non-Japanese ethnicities.  They did not address discrimination based on e.g. religion or sexuality.    Folding both of those points together, the image we have of the CRC is of a violent hate group whose existence is regarded as perhaps distasteful and extremist, but not actually illegal.  Even what few laws Japan has now wouldn’t have applied to anti-heteromorph discrimination, because, while they may look wildly different from a prototypical Japanese person, heteromorphs still are Japanese, and therefore not protected by a law based solely around ethnic discrimination.    Incidentally, the ordinance in Kawasaki laid out a number of specific examples of the kind of behavior it was looking to address, and one of those examples was likening victims to something other than human.  I know why that was included in the context of anti-Korean sentiments,[9] but it certainly does shade e.g. Dabi calling Spinner a lizard more harshly to know that there’s legal precedent for categorizing such dehumanizing language as hate speech.    [9] An extremely common form of anti-Korean hate speech in Japan is to refer/allude to Koreans as cockroaches.

“These days, one faction might only reject people with animal properties, while another focuses its hate on people with irregular heads.”     This is a good echo of the sort of factionalization you see in organized religion, wherein the minutiae of tenets that seem similar to an outside eye are the topic of vicious, vehement inter-group debate. More to the point, however, it provides an excellent illustration of the senselessness of bigotry.  They can’t even keep their own discriminatory dogma straight!    Probably the second most common complaint about the story’s use of heteromorphobia—after calling it retconned-in bullshit that didn’t exist until Chapter 220—is that it’s illogical, that it makes no sense to judge people because they look a little different in a world where everyone is now a little different from the way we see the world.    And I wonder if the people who say that are listening to what they’re saying.  “Illogical bias that has no foundation in reality is unrealistic?”  What do these people think bigotry is?  Racism, sexism, xenophobia, ableism, religious discrimination, all the many different shades of queerphobia: all of these are built on foundations of fear and hate for people who are fundamentally still as human as anyone else, yet they all exist, and have existed, and will go on existing for quite some many years still.  Because irrational hatreds are, by definition, irrational.  Heteromorphic discrimination is the most realistic societal dynamic in the entire series! That little rant aside, I also want to highlight the first group in the excerpt above—people with animal properties.  Check any talk on the theme of, “So you can believe dragons but not black people in fantasy?” and you’ll run into the ways people are much more ready to suspend their disbelief for full-on fantasy than for something that, rightly or wrongly, pings them as incorrect, and it’s easy to imagine animal-associated heteromorphs running into a similar issue: it’s fine for people to just look weird, but looking like an animal, that’s bad and unnatural.  A heteromorph who just looks like nothing in particular other than “non-baseline” is not evoking the baggage of animal anthropomorphization and cultural animal symbolism that someone who looks like a bird, a lizard, a dog, an orca, etc. is.   

Chapter 223: 

Shigaraki refers to Gigantomachia as a gorilla.  It’s debatable how much this is of a piece with Dabi calling Spinner “Lizard”—Machia’s only actual animal quirk is Mole, not anything simian, nor is Machia particularly ape-like in anything other than his large size—but it does stand out to me that Spinner, who we know to have strong opinions about animal epithets, just refers to Machia by name or as “the big guy.”

Chapter 224: 

Mr. Compress calls Machia “our pet gorilla”; see note above.

Chapter 226: 

Curious introduces the idea of quirk counselling, telling us that its goal is to align people to a unified understanding of how the world and society work, but that it’s flawed in that it winds up emphasizing peoples’ differences instead.  The advisor at the hospital raid will include quirk counseling in his litany of grievances, so I’ll discuss its possible utilization against heteromorphs more there, but for now, recall that I talked previously about how quirk-based behavioral tics might vary from person to person by comparing Hound Dog with Sansa.  With that in mind, it’s not a big reach that some heteromorphs might run into similar problems with quirk counselling.   

There are a good number of what appear to be heteromorphs through the Curious fight; whatever the MLA’s core views on quirk supremacy, the organization self-evidently makes ample room for heteromorphs, even if, like e.g. the red panda guy in the crowd jumping Toga inside the noodle joint, they don’t seem to have any other stand-out powers beyond the fur and fangs.   

Chapter 229: 

Twice notes in his flashback that something about his eyes always rubbed people the wrong way, scared them.  We’ll eventually see this same thing with Tenko on the street—a totally normal-looking child, but the look on his face scares people away even more than the blood.  And I can’t help but think, “If even a totally baseline person’s eyes can creep people out, how much easier—and more extreme—is that reaction for the more out-there sort of heteromorph?”   

Gori makes the tiniest of cameos in Twice’s flashback, playing backup off to the side when we will, in current times, find him having worked his way up to the interrogation chair himself.   

Chapter 230: 

Geten brings us quirk supremacy via his understanding of the MLA’s goals.  It’s hard to say how accurate this is, since the MLA leadership is inconsistent on what exactly their vision of Liberation entails.  Whatever it is, it certainly doesn’t seem to dissuade the MLA’s own heteromorphs, though of course there’s a big difference between how e.g. Spinner or Ojiro versus Gang Orca or Mirko would fare in a societal quirk free-for-all.  Likewise, the MLA is a cult, so one can’t discount the likelihood of double-think in its members.   

Chapter 232:

Re-Destro talks about the state of the country in Destro’s infancy, a period in which metahumans suffered “constant abuse—blatant discrimination.”  Merely for speaking out that her child was just like everyone else—that his special power was just a quirk—Destro’s mother was killed by an anti-meta mob.  This gives us further evidence of the violence metahumans faced.  Of course, in that time, the hate wasn’t distinguishing between types of quirk, but with that being said, an emitter and a transformer can still hide the truth about themselves with far more ease than heteromorphs—recall All Might’s discussion about the early days of quirks back in Chapter 59, in which the panel showing four people with quirks contained only one baseline person.  It would be entirely unsurprising for an outsized number of the metahumans killed in those days to be heteromorphs.

Chapter 233: 

The confrontation between Trumpet and Spinner gives us Trumpet clucking about Spinner having a weak meta-ability—Gecko lets him cling to walls, and that’s about it.  It’s a striking contrast to someone like Mirko or Gang Orca, or even Tsuyu, all of whom have some combination of big power moves and a veritable fleet of sub-abilities.  We can see the way Hero Society prizes powerful, flexible quirks in this.  Having a strong quirk can help overcome the societal bias about heteromorphs, but if you’re stuck with a weak quirk and a weird face, you lack that metaphorical ticket out.[10]    [10] Incidentally, the fandom reflected some of that attitude as well.  There was a widespread assumption that Spinner’s quirk would be really useful or situationally powerful, otherwise why would Horikoshi have hidden it for as long as he did?  Then, after the reveal, there was a certain amount of complaining that Spinner was useless to the League, and why even bother with him?  Sometimes, life imitates art in some very unflattering ways.

Trumpet brings up that Spinner was a recluse, “mocked and pilloried,” and we see Spinner in his hikikomori days.  What we’ve gotten on Spinner up to this point suggests that the abuse he endured was mostly verbal, though one can imagine it was pretty rough when he was young enough to be the target of school bullies.  There’s a certain amount of temptation to minimize that in comparison to his response: most people who are bullied or targeted by discrimination don’t grow up to become terrorists.  But there was, we will eventually find, more visceral stuff going on—and parts of the country that were even worse than Spinner’s hometown.

Spinner spent most of his life trying to fit himself into the world around him; his strongest parallel in the League in this regard is Toga, as they were the two that held themselves back, let the world define what they were and how they should act, right up until they saw something that caused them to snap.[11]  Trumpet tries to do much the same to Spinner here (albeit probably less as an intentional psychological attack than Skeptic’s attempts on Twice), but Spinner, like Toga, is long past the point where he would swallow that abuse without fighting back.  When you tell someone they are something long enough, they eventually start to believe it—but if you aren’t careful, they’ll start to embrace it, at which point those weaponized words change hands.    [11] Shigaraki and Dabi, by contrast, pushed back harder, trying to get the world to accept them and never accepting it when their families (and particularly their fathers) told them to stop.  Twice was ejected without getting the chance to try to contort himself into a shape that fit the world, whereas Mr. Compress seems to have been raised to reject his society's accepted norms from the start.   

Chapter 234:

We see an image excerpted from Quirks and Us, a children’s book published by Curious’s outfit, that exhorts the reader not to judge people by their quirks.  It really, really begs the question, “If this is what’s being said in literature published to coax people towards anti-suppression radicalism, what on Earth is normal society saying?”    Regardless of that absolutely wild disparity, though, the fact that there are children’s books being published about quirk bias being wrong suggests that the world very much does have a problem with quirk bias.  Indeed, that much has been shown throughout the series, not merely in terms of anti-heteromorph bias, but also the bias against “villain quirks,” as well as the widespread idea that people with weak quirks—or no quirks at all—are weaker people overall, pitiable folk who lack the power to live their fullest lives or pursue their dreams unhindered.[12]    People on more than one of these axes of discrimination will, as in real life, be more likely to experience discrimination and violence. [12] Villains like All For One and Geten may say it more loudly, but it’s not only villains who believe it—perfectly good-hearted people like All Might and Midoriya Inko fall into that trap as well.   

Chapter 237: 

Nothing much to say about Shigaraki’s flashbacks save to note that, if people won’t stop to help a lost and bloodied (and baseline) child, they sure as hell won’t intervene in anti-heteromorph bullying.  Recall that Kirishima was accused of sticking his nose where it didn’t belong for trying!

-----

Thanks as ever for reading along, everyone! How was the new footnote format? Should I keep that up for lengthy meta going forward?

I was kind of expecting to be able to wrap this up (the main canon, at least) in one more post, but I underestimated the amount of writing I'd be doing for the first war arc. For next time, then, I'm looking to cover the Endeavor Agency, Paranormal Liberation War, and Dark Hero Villain Hunt arcs. See you all then!

[goldenavenger02]

Kid lloyd gets sick and the ninja take care of him??

Or- Jay and lloyd doing silly antics and the ninja being so done with their crap??

(P.s. get well soon!❤️)

Thank you for the well wishes! I went with the first idea since I immediately had inspiration for it (thank you, Darkness Shall Rise, AKA one of my top three episodes of the show) and I hope you enjoy!

Buzz. Buzz.

Cole knew he couldn't get on his phone as he stood outside of the front steps of the bank.

His boss was already upset with him for stopping that elderly woman, no matter how many times he explained that she was acting suspicious, so answering his phone was only gonna get him in more trouble if not straight up fired.

And he couldn't afford to lose this job, not when the only one making more money than him was Zane, even if it was only by two dollars.

Buzz. Buzz.

'Maybe it'll go voicemail, or they'll just give up and text me. I can check it on my lunch break.' Cole hoped as he observed the sidewalk.

Buzz. Buzz.

"Oh, screw it," Cole muttered, taking a look around to make sure his boss wasn't anywhere to be seen before pulling his phone out and answering it, not even bothering to look at the number, "Hello? I'm at work-"

"Do we have Tylenol?" Lloyd's congested voice cut him off and stopped annoyance from continuing to build in his chest.

"We don't have any children's, I don't think. Zane's going grocery shopping after his shift though, I can ask him to pick some up on my break," Cole explained quickly, "are you okay? You sound snotty."

"My head hurts, but I'm-" Cole winced at the sound of Lloyd's coughing fit coming through the phone and was greeted by a much more hoarse voice finishing his sentence, "I'm okay."

"No, you're sick is what you are," He retorted while trying to calculate who would be off work the soonest in his head and simultaneously trying his best to not think about her since that was the last thing he needed right now, "look, I can ask to clock out early-"

"No! We need the money!"

Cole sighed because Lloyd was right; if they didn't save up the money for rent, they'd be homeless which would be another obstacle that stood in the way of them stopping Lord Garmadon and the Serpentine.

"Okay, okay, I'll stay," Cole agreed even though every congested sniffle made him want to leave and get back to the penthouse so the ten year old wasn't alone, "but I'll ask the others, see if one of them is almost done with work."

"I really don't need-"

"Yes, you do. You're sick and can't even reach the medicine cabinet," Cole argued and when he only got a huff in response, he continued, "I gotta go now, squirt. Can you go lay down until one of us gets home?"

"Yeah."

"Alrighty. Be good." Cole insisted before hanging up, only to be met with the scowling face of his boss. 'Shit.'

"So now you're taking personal phone calls on company time?"

"It was an emergency, my little brother's sick-"

"This is your second strike, Brookstone," his boss cut him off with a hand held up, "do not get a third."

Cole waited until the man was out of earshot to say what he was really thinking, "I need to get a better job", before he pulled out his phone and opened the group chat to type a quick message.

"Lloyd's sick. Needs meds and someone to watch him."

And with that, he put his phone on silent and pocketed it; after all, he had done everything he could, he just had to hope that one of the others had access to their phone.

…

"How do we even take care of him? He's Garmadon's son, what if he has a completely different recovery process?"

"Jay, what the actual fuck are you talking about?"

"What did the thermometer say again?"

"100.4, but I would not be surprised if it has risen since we returned."

Lloyd's eyes burned as he tried to open them; after calling Cole, he figured that the best thing to do was lay down on the couch until one of the others got back with Tylenol but after taking a nap, his clothes were stuck to his body with uncomfortable sweat despite just how cold he was.

Even though he felt it building in his throat, the deep cough that made his head pound and his chest burn caught him off guard, as well as effectively silencing the bickering that had started in the other room before bringing what sounded like two sets of footsteps right to him.

"Lloyd? Are you awake?" A hand pressed against his forehead and gently brushed his hair away from his eyes, one that was warm and calloused against his soft skin, "he's burning up."

Lloyd finally managed to open his eyes, craning his neck to look up at Cole's face looking down at him before looking right at Kai who still had his hand against his forehead and turned his tight frown into a smile that anyone could have seen right through.

"Hey, buddy. We got you some medicine and Zane's making dinner."

"Not hungry."

"You gotta take some medicine regardless," Cole cut in as Kai pulled his hand away from his face and walked towards the kitchen, "plus, chicken noodle soup, especially Zane's recipe, is a surefire way to clear out that sinus system of yours even if you just drink the broth."

"Hey, what are we making Lloyd take right now?!" Jay called from the kitchen which made Cole sigh while smacking his hand gently onto his forehead in annoyance.

Lloyd had to fight back against the cough that built up in his chest from giggling at the action.

"I'll be right back. Stay awake, okay?"

The nod only made his head pound harder behind his eyes, but he kept it to himself until the last of the ninja made their way into the kitchen when he draped a hand over his eyes.

"You wanna sit up for a sec and take this?"

Cole's voice was gentle, almost in a parental way but Lloyd did not want to sit up; not when his head felt like a bowling ball,his limbs felt like jelly and he could barely keep his eyes open with how much the light burned them.

"Not really."

"Lloyd-"

"Everything hurts."

"I know. I know you feel like shit and I'm sorry that I wasn't here sooner, but the medicine will help you feel better and we're working to get shifts arranged so someone can keep an eye on you-"

"Is that gonna mean less money?"

Cole pulled in a sigh as he rubbed a hand over his face before his dark brown eyes pierced into Lloyd's green ones.

"Lloyd, this whole job and house and money thing, you don't have to worry about it. We'll figure it out, all you need to worry about is getting better, okay?"

Despite how much he wanted to protest, about how the only reason they had to work this hard was because they wanted to make sure he got the best training possible, his head hurt too much to push back against Cole's statement, "okay."

"Alright, then let's get you medicated and in bed. Sleeping on the couch cannot be good for your back."

…

It hadn't taken long to get Lloyd in bed.

Kai remembered when the kid used to fight, punch, scream and even bite on a few occasions when they had first brought him aboard The Bounty every time they tried to get him to bed.

Sensei and Zane were the only ones who ever had any luck getting him to lay down and go to sleep at a reasonable time, even though he was still convinced that Jay had let Lloyd stay up past his bedtime multiple times.

He knew that most of it was because he was sick and barely able to sit up to take the medication that he had called Cole to get, let alone bicker with the others about how he should be allowed to stay awake past eight thirty p.m.

But at the same time, he couldn't help but wonder if some of it was the boy grappling with how serious his destiny was.

It had been different when Kai thought it would be him to defeat Lord Garmadon, that it was just like any other ordinary battle despite the heavy weight of it, but now that they knew that one day it would be his very own son that would stand in front of him and strike him down.

Kai just hoped that Lloyd's gi would no longer have to be cuffed around his ankles and wrists before that happened.

He was relieved when his phone alarm went off, announcing that it was time for him to free Cole from beside duty, even if it was just so he could escape his thought process.

When he walked into Lloyd's bedroom, he wasn't surprised to see Cole's head resting against his neck in the armchair that sat in the corner of the room; seeing the youngest of their team sick was stressful on all of them, but knowing just how close it was to home for Cole added another layer of worry to Kai's already frayed nerves.

Despite how peaceful he looked and how tired he had been from standing for nearly twelve hours straight for the last couple of days with the exception of a half-hour lunch break, Kai knew that if he didn't send him to lay down in his real bed until he left again at five that his neck would regret it in the morning.

"Cole?" He whispered, only getting a response in the form of an aggressive jerk when he rested his hand on his shoulder, "sorry."

"No, no, you're good," Cole shook his head, standing up and twisting his head to the right until his neck let out a small 'crack', "be careful with that chair, it'll do a number on your neck."

"Noted."

"Jay set his alarm?"

"Yeah, I watched him do it," Kai nodded, leaving out the part where he hovered over Jay's shoulder as he set multiple alarms due to the fact that he was notorious for hitting the snooze button and ending up being late, "go get some sleep."

Cole nodded with a mumbled "night" as he left the room, shutting the door behind him and leaving him alone in the dark room with Lloyd who was still asleep despite their hushed whispers.

Kai couldn't stop himself from brushing the hair out of the boy's eyes before resting his hand on his flushed cheek and letting the feverish warmth seep into his skin for a moment before sitting down in the armchair.

Maybe he couldn't stop Lloyd's destiny from hitting him way too soon and way too fast, maybe he didn't have his elemental powers anymore thanks to the lack of a fire sword, and maybe he couldn't get enough money being a party entertainer, despite doing the human pinata, that wouldn't pale in comparison to the others salaries.

But, he was able to sit in the darkness on the off chance that Lloyd woke up and needed someone there to comfort him, give him more Tylenol or even just let him know that he wasn't alone; for Kai, given everything else going on, that was enough.

[closets-closet]

Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley Head Cannon.

Okay, so it’s been years since i’ve done one of these, but i’m hoping for the best. It’s going to go in a specific order.

- Head Cannon Background

- Head Cannon

- Short Story featuring head cannon

I definitely want to do more of these as I really wanna get back into writing and the COD brain rot is BAD right now. So lemme know if there’s any Head Cannons for other COD characters and I’ll write something up🫡🤍

(Also I haven’t used Tumblr in a hot minute so i apologize if its formatted weird, and for any typos, i have long nails right now and Auto Correct can’t save us all)

-

-

I’ve got the feeling that Ghost/Simon smokes cheap cigarettes. Like after everything that happened to him in his younger years he picked it up and at the time all he could afford were some Lucky Strikes from the convenience store down the way.

-

-

So hear me out… Simon always smells like cigarettes. It mixes well the smell of gunpowder and sweat that lingers on his skin. The smell makes him recognizable, it makes him stick out from his teammates. Also feel like he definitely keeps a pack in the breast pocket of his uniform or in one of the pockets of his pants.

-

-

You get off work after a long day, You find yourself sitting in your closest local bar. Martini glass pressed between your fingers. The bar is loud, and packed, not surprising considering it’s a friday night. You stick out like a sore thumb, pencil skirt from work and blazer that does you no justice. The bar only gets louder when a group of men walk in, they’re large, and they stand out. Not one particularly catches your eye untill you see the bigger guy in the back, ushering them into the bar. He’s tall, his facial features obscured by a black balaclava that only allows for you to see his eyes which see directly through you. You face back towards your half-empty martini glass the olive looking lonely at the bottom. As your eyes burn holes into the wood bar top your senses are flooded with a smell, a smell that brings you relief from the smell of beer, and other liquors that are being poured and thrown back by college kids and young adults looking to get the edge off. It smells of charcoal, gunpowder and the pungent smell of cigarettes. You tilt your head to the side trying to get a look at who it could be when your eyes lock with the man’s from before, his balaclava pulled up to his nose as he takes a sip from a rocks glasses filled with whisky. Your eyes burn into his and you can’t help but stare. You’re intrigued, dangerously so, and little do you know, he is as well.

[thelazyhermits]

Any thoughts for the possibility of Yuu and Grandma Bucchi meeting?

Oh, absolutely! I want Yuu to meet Grandma Bucchi so bad since I love Ruggie and think his grandma will be cute like him but also super badass/awesome like Epel's grandma lol

Unfortunately, the chances of Ruggie getting a hometown event are pretty low, considering it's unlikely that there are hometown festivals, etc. where he grew up, and there's no way his family could afford to host anyone when they're just barely getting by as it is.

That's why I'm really hoping that Grandma Bucchi shows up in Book 7 at some point like Baul did cause that seems like our best chance to see her 🤞

Anyway, now it's time for me to stop babbling, so I can finally actually answer your question lol I put it all underneath the cut since I ended up writing a lot as per usual 😂

Okay, first off, I'd like to say that I think Grandma Bucchi isn't someone who's easy to impress/win over. You gotta earn her respect since she's gone through a lot over the years, and she won't get close to someone unless she's sure she can trust them.

She'd be especially like this when it comes to people associating with her grandson, although she trusts Ruggie's judgment since he's not the type who easily trusts people either, so whenever Ruggie starts talking positively about someone, she wouldn't immediately make unkind assumptions about them and would stay just wait to see how things play out before deciding how she should feel about whoever has caught Ruggie's interest.

Regarding Yuu, Grandma Bucchi first hears about her when Ruggie comes home for winter break 'cause Ruggie strikes me as the type who doesn't really talk about all the people at school when he's on the phone with his grandma. Instead, he focuses more on telling her that he's doing alright, eating well, etc. since he thinks that kinda info is more important.

Plus, he was totally worried that his grandma would tease him for spending so much time around a girl his age, which he had never really done before up until this point, and he really did not wanna deal with such an embarrassing conversation lol

However, the topic of Yuu can't be avoided when Ruggie gets home. That's because, in addition to bringing all that food from canon, Ruggie also has the Christmas present Yuu made for him, which he doesn't open until he gets home cause his hands were too full when she gave him his present right before he went home.

It's thanks to that Christmas present that Yuu makes a good first impression on Grandma Bucchi cause, in addition to making some cute hyena print socks for Ruggie, she also prepare lots of dishes/snacks and placed them in a magical bag, which she got from Sam, that has limitless storage.

Yuu made sure to prepare enough food that Ruggie could share with everyone back home cause she wanted to do something nice for all the little kids in his neighborhood, and she knew that Ruggie would share his food with everyone since that's how things work with hyena Beastman, which he had told her about in the past.

The fact that Yuu was thinking of not just Ruggie but everyone else back home impressed Grandma Bucchi, and she was even more impressed when she saw how well made the food and socks were since this is the kinda skill one develops after a lot of hard work, and Grandma Bucchi likes hard workers.

It's obvious that Yuu cares a lot about Ruggie, and Grandma Bucchi can tell her grandson has a soft spot for Yuu in return, although he tries to hide it from her. That's why Grandma Bucchi has Ruggie tell her all about Yuu cause she wants to hear all about this girl who has gotten close to her grandson recently.

Plus, as Ruggie feared, she also just wants to tease her grandson about him being so friendly with a girl, whom she says could potentially make a nice wife. Poor Ruggie lol 😂

Despite her teasing, Grandma Bucchi still has some reservations about Yuu, so she's not completely won over by this point. She still needs to meet Yuu and see her in person before she decides how she'll feel about her, although I think, even after that, it would still be a slow and steady development.

Regarding how exactly Yuu would meet Grandma Bucchi, since I can't see Ruggie getting a hometown event, I'm thinking the only way for them to meet is when Yuu is in Sunset Savanna working for Leona, like what was discussed in my Fairy Gala fic.

I could see Leona inviting Yuu to the Sunset Savanna during her first summer at TW since, even though they're still students by this point, they can still do some work during that time since a lot of work needs to be done to accomplish Leona's goals which won't be fulfilled quickly.

During that time, I could see Yuu paying Ruggie a visit, probably at his insistence so he can confirm Leona isn't running her ragged like he does to him lol And that would be when Yuu finally meets Grandma Bucchi.

This would also be when Yuu meets all the kids in the neighborhood who all love her cause of the stories they heard from Ruggie and most importantly the food she makes that Ruggie brings home for them lol

Overall, I'd say Yuu's first meeting with Grandma Bucchi goes well cause she's polite/respectful, and it's obvious how much Yuu cares about Ruggie.

Plus, Grandma Bucchi thinks you can learn a lot about a person from how they interact with children, and Yuu passed that test with flying colors cause she loves children and is really good with them, which is why the neighborhood kids became even more attached to her.

While this first meeting still isn't enough to completely win her over, Grandma Bucchi definitely thinks higher of Yuu than she does most people, so just as long as Yuu doesn't mess things up, which she won't cause she wants to earn Grandma Bucchi's respect/approval so she can continue being friends with Ruggie, things should continue to proceed positively between Ruggie's two favorite ladies ^^

[we-are-inevitable]

from the burdened prompt list: “i know it’s selfish.  but i wish someone would just take care of me.”

davey struggling, having to work longer hours bc his family needs more money this month and jack finds him and davey accidentally lets this hidden “selfish” desire slip out

respectfully y’all are SO jacphobic if you don’t leave a comment on ao3 for this one (im joking (a little))

i hope you guys like this one !!

————

For the Jacobs boys, nights at the lodging house are a rare treat.

They always start the same. One of the boys at the lodge would tell Les about a game they were playing, or an event that everyone was chipping in on. A birthday, most often; birthdays at the lodge were apparently a big deal, since it was the one joy some of these kids might have. The boys who could afford to would offer up a few pennies to buy something nice. A dime novel, maybe, for the boys who liked to read, but usually the gift would be as much candy as a few quarters could buy.

Les, ever the social butterfly, loves being a part of these nights, and always tells their parents at the dinner table. Esther usually allows him to donate a penny or two, especially if this birthday was for one of the littles or a boy around his age. It wasn’t always like this, of course; the first time Les asked to stay the night, it took a long discussion before Esther and Mayer agreed, and they only agreed if David would stay, too. It was a little easier to convince them the second time, and again for the third, and fourth, and fifth, and now the boys don’t even have to ask: if they have a free night with no work at home to be done, they can go, but only if Esther and Mayer know ahead of time.

Once Mayer is cleared to go back to work, though, nights like those are few and far between.

As promised, as soon as their father finds a new job that will be easier on his health, Les and David are back in the classroom, learning literature and arithmetic as though their summer hadn’t been taken over by the strike. David had considered it a miracle, and Les had dreaded it since the start, but school was in session and David finally had structure back in his life.

That was what was missing, right? Structure. A clear plan. No roadblocks, no mishaps— a guidebook to the rest of his life, one he had made up when he was far too young to worry about such things. To David, school is structure. School leads to college, and college leads to a career, and a career means that David can provide for his parents, and his eventual family, and he will never have to worry about not doing enough or not being good enough because he will be enough and things will work out in his favor.

School is structure, and structure is uninterrupted, until it is.

When Esther pulls David aside one morning before he’s supposed to walk to school, David feels his stomach drop. “David,” she starts, her voice ever soft, calm, “Dear, your father and I have been thinking.”

“About?”

“Your schooling. We know how important education is to you, but, darling… You’re a smart young man, so I’m going to be honest with you. With your father’s new job, we’re still struggling to make ends meet. It doesn’t pay as much as his old job, and—“

“Do you need me to stop going to school? So I can work?”

“Oh, dear, we would never ask that of you,” She assures him, gently cupping his cheeks. “You have a brilliant mind, son. You are going to do amazing things one day, I’m sure… I want you to understand that we- your father and I- hate asking this, but,” She pauses, and David can see her frown pinch like she’s in pain, like asking this is hurting her. David hates seeing this expression on his mother. She closes her eyes for a moment, then meets his gaze with a sad smile. “Would it be possible for you to go to school, then sell the evening edition? Just until we can get back on our feet?”

Against his better judgement, David says yes without even thinking it over.

His family needs him. He can manage this. He’ll still be in school, and he’ll be making money, and it doesn’t matter that he already comes home from school dead on his feet because he’s so tired, because this time he’s helping his family and doing something for himself to make something of himself, and isn’t that the point of all of this?

Besides, it works.

It works for three weeks, at least. For three weeks, Does it, no problem. He goes to school and rushes through work so there’s less to do at home, and he’s still getting good marks on most of his assignments. Once school is done, he walks Les to the halfway point between the tenement house and the lodging house, tells him to take his bookbag and put it next to the door, and to give Ima and Aba a big hug for him. He watches Les walk for about a minute or so, just to make sure he’s okay, and when Les rounds the corner of the block, David takes off like a shot to get to the lodge in time.

That’s his every-day for three weeks. He doesn’t make much money only selling one edition, but he’s helping- he can see that he is. His parents aren’t as stressed anymore, and he’s still getting an education and holding down a job, and surely that means something, even if he comes home from work late and misses dinner with his family often and rarely ever talks anymore because he heads right to bed after eating.

Three weeks, and Esther finally sits him down one Friday morning before school.

“David,” she says softly. “Why don’t you stay at the lodge tonight?”

David it’s his head, brows pinching together. “You’re sure?”

Esther nods, and squeezes his hand, something she’s done since he was a child. “I don’t want you having to worry about walking home so late, darling. Besides, you don’t have any school tomorrow, and you haven’t stayed over in a long time— I insist, really. Have some fun with your friends.”

“…Okay,” David says after a moment, nodding. “Okay, I can do that. I won’t have to get up so early for the morning paper tomorrow.”

“Skip it,” Esther say, and runs a hand through David’s hair. “Take a weekend off, baby. Please?”

“But—“

“But nothing,” She interrupts. She has that look on her face: a mother’s look of concern, one that says she knows he’s overworking himself, but it’s not like he can just stop now. “You’ve been such a big help, dear, but you’re still a kid. Have fun, and be with your friends. Don’t worry about work.”

And David knows she’s right. She almost took it back, saying that David could work and go to school, after the first week— David was the one who said that he was fine, that he’d keep it up until winter and see where they were financially. If they were well off, he would stop working after the winter holidays. If not, he would continue. Mayer had said it was a good idea. Good work ethic, his boy; that’s what Mayer brags about to coworkers, and that’s the praise that David keeps square in his chest. Good work ethic.

Good work ethic.

That being said, David is appreciative of being given the weekend to be a teenager again. Everyone has been asking when he’s going to stay over again, and he hasn’t had an answer for them, but now he’ll be able to have a good night again.

The evening headline is a good one, too. Something about some bigshot in Brooklyn being killed. David knows that Spot Conlon and her girls are going to have a field day with this one, that’s for sure, but David is just happy that it was a big enough of a deal to make Manhattan’s news too. The papes sell fast, and David gets to the lodge even faster. Walking through the doors, he’s immediately met with the familiar chaos, and it brings a smile to his face.

“Dave!”

The voice comes from his left, and before he’s able to turn, he’s wrapped in a hug by Racetrack. It only lasts a few seconds, but David laughs and rolls his eyes as Race shoves him almost immediately after.

“Where’ve you been?” Race says with a grin, raising a brow. “You ain’t been here in ages.”

“I just spoke to you an hour ago,” David reminds him. He had seen Race walking back to the lodging house while he was selling. From the looks of it, Race had been walking back from Brooklyn, so odds are that he had been selling across the bridge all day. “I’ve been busy with school, but I’m stayin’ here over the weekend.”

Race nods his head, that signature mischievous smirk reappearing on his face. “Ya don’t say,” He says, teasingly. “Y’know, Dave, Jack’s been throwin’ fits without you bein’ around here so often. You should go talk to him. Does he know you’re stayin’?”

“Not yet,” David replies, shaking his head. “Is he okay? Have I missed something?”

“Oh, no, he’s fine,” Race says quickly. He pulls his cigar out of his shirt pocket, then the lighter from his pants pocket; he offers them up to David, but David shakes his head again and Race nods to himself. “He’s just been missin’ you, I think. He ain’t ever gonna admit it, but…” He trails off, giving David a knowing look, and, yeah, okay.

Okay, maybe Jack and David have a thing going on. There’s nothing really there, not yet, but the chemistry is undeniable; David had at first assumed he was making it all up— he’s never really understood this romance thing— but then Race pointed it out one day, and since then, David has gone to him for every burning Jack Kelly issue his mind could think up. How he wants to kiss him, but he’s never kissed anyone, but Jack has kissed a lot of people so what if David isn’t anything special? Or how it’s unfair that Jack can look so good in nice, tailored clothes, since he has that big job at the World now, you know, so he has to look nice and it kind of drives David mad, and how—…

And how David hasn’t really been here in weeks. And how David has only been selling, then heading home immediately after selling his last paper. And how he can’t remember the last time he had a good conversation with Jack, who should probably hate him by now.

David takes a deep breath. “Where is he?”

Not even five minutes later, his hands land on the last rung of the ladder to the rooftop, and Jack Kelly is there in all his glory: laying on his back, basking in the August sun. Once David has both feet solidly on the roof, he sees Jack’s eyebrow quirk up, though his eyes never open. “Crutch? You good?”

David clears his throat. “Uh— Yeah, but I’m not Crutchie.”

Instantly, Jack sits up, eyes flying open. His look is nothing short of delighted, and he grunts as he pushes himself up to his feet. “Davey! What’re you doin’ here?”

An oddly chipper reaction, considering they haven’t actually talked in a while. Back over the summer, David and Jack were fast friends, and even faster… whatever they are now. They sold together nearly every day, played cards between editions, sat next to each other during every meal, talked for hours and hours on end without ever tiring. They were a package deal.

“I’m staying the night,” David says with a nervous smile, pushing down the thought of this is ruined and he hates me. “It’s been a while, so I figured I could come back for a bit, if that’s okay? I have enough to pay for a bunk, I just—“

“You’re kiddin’ me, right?” Jack asks, walking closer. “Dave, this might be one of the last nights we get on the rooftop ‘fore it gets too cold. You’re stayin’ up here, with me,” He says, and that smile— god, that smile— shines full force. “C’mon, sit down. How’s school been?”

David follows Jack’s lead, eventually sitting next to him on a pile of blankets near the outward corner of the roof. “It’s been alright,” David answers, leaning back and bracing himself on his palms. “I’m still no better in math, but grammar is kind of fun. My teacher thinks I’m ahead, though, whatever that means.”

“That’s good, though, right?” Jack nudges David gently with his elbow. “Means you can take it easy.”

“I guess,” David nods, and lets out a soft sigh. Taking the easy road, it’s never been David’s strong suit. He supposes Jack is right; he can take it a little easier in school and not push himself so hard, that way he can pace himself while selling. Maybe he wouldn’t be as tired then, but… “I don’t think so, though. I’d rather just get school over with so I can focus on working.”

Jack is quiet for a moment. David stares straight ahead, resting along the ledge behind him, until he feels Jack’s hand on his shoulder. “Dave,” He stares, tilting his head. “What’s goin’ on? I thought you loved school.”

“I mean, I do,” David says quickly, though he doesn’t meet Jack’s eyes. “I want to continue my education so I can be a- a doctor, or a business man, or something, but right now… My family needs me right now. If I go faster with school, then I can help them, and—“

“Is that really fair to you, though?”

The question stops David in his tracks. Is it? Not really, no, but then again, what is? If life was fair, his father wouldn’t have gotten hurt. If life was fair, his father wouldn’t even have been working in that damned place anyway, and instead he’d be rich and successful like he had always been working towards. If life as fair, David would be able to focus on school, and wouldn’t be mocked and ridiculed all day for working a job. David knows he’s better off than the rest of the newsies, but at school, it doesn’t feel like it. Most of David’s friends don’t even have to work a job. They get new shoes every year, too, instead of waiting until the old pair gets too small or falls apart. If they rip their clothing, they can mend it and make it look seamless, not patchy, or they just buy new clothing all together. David doesn’t have that luxury. Life isn’t that fair.

He takes a deep breath, then says: “No. It’s not.”

Jack nods. The silence between them is uncomfortable, but only until Jack gently slings his strong arm around David’s waist, pulling him closer. David sinks into his touch, letting himself relax, letting himself lose the rigid tension running along his spine.

“I wish I could help,” Jack says softly, and shifts, allowing David to lie back with his head against Jack’s chest. “But, hey… soon, you’ll be outta school, and you ain’t gonna have to worry about that anymore. Right?”

“Until I decide to go to university,” David amends, “but at this point, I don’t- I don’t know if I can afford to go. My teacher is telling me I should, but it’s going to cost $150… I don’t have that kind of money. None of us do. And- And maybe I could save it up, but not when all of my money is putting food on the table— I can’t just… focus on myself right now. I have a family to feed.”

Jack rubs circles against David’s hip with his thumb, and sighs. “You deserve the chance to focus on you, Davey…”

What breaks David’s heart is that he knows. He knows he does. But it’s not in the cards, not now. David stays silent for a long while, and Jack does too; they listen to the sounds of the city bustling beneath them, the boys’ laughter filtering out from an open window, music playing in the distance.

Neither of them say a word, until David sniffs, and wipes his eyes. “I- I know it’s selfish,” He starts, his voice barely above a whisper, “but I… I wish someone would just take care of me. I know that’s not- it doesn’t work like that. I know. I’m supposed to take care of everyone else, but it’s so fu-fucking hard to just… push myself to the side.” As he speaks, his voice catches, and the next thing he knows, he’s wrapped in both of Jack’s arms. Jack’s hand rubs his back, and David finally allows himself to let go. Not a sudden outburst, no; this is a gradual accumulation of tears until David’s shoulders shake, but he’s silent, because outbursts are unappealing and sadness should be polite.

Still, David finds Jack’s voice grounding him.

“I know, I know… Let it all out, Dave, you don’t gotta be strong right now. I’ve got you, I’ll take care of you… You’re safe to let it out.” And how Jack always knows exactly what to say, David will never know.

David will never know how Jack knows just how to hold him, just how to run his hands through his hair and just barely tug on the strands to reign him in. He’ll never know how Jack knows to kiss his temple, his forehead, his cheeks, all while squeezing his hand or wiping away his tears. He’ll never know how Jack knows that humming calms him down, whether it’s his mother’s Hebrew lullabies or the melody of one of Medda’s songs from the last show she put on.

What David does know, though, is that he’s safe, and he doesn’t have to shoulder the weight of the world. Not around Jack.

When David calms down, he’s still resting against Jack’s chest, letting out a few heaving sighs. “Thank you,” he whispers, tilting his head up to look Jack in the eyes. “I— I didn’t mean to cry, but… thank you.”

“You don’t gotta hide from me, Davey,” Jack murmurs back, tucking a strand of David’s hair behind his ears. “You don’t gotta explain yourself, either… When you’re here, my job is to take care of you, okay?”

“Jack, no—“

“I’m serious,” Jack cuts him off, raising a brow. “You got so much on your plate, and you know that. Right? … So let me help, wherever I can. I want to.”

David takes this in for a moment, before sighing softly and nodding. “Okay. I… I appreciate it.”

Jack smiles gently down at him. For a moment, they stare into each other’s eyes, and as soon as Jack cups David’s cheek, it’s all over. David leans up and Jack closes the gap, and the kiss is short, but sweet, and good, and right.

The weight of the world isn’t so heavy after that.

[moosemonstrous]

So much has built up in the last few days since I started writing this bit that there are parts I'll need to change, but I'm being very brave and not doing proper edits or it will never get posted 😂

Ghost Rider Pacific Rim AU - Beastie Riders

(insert The Distance by All Good Things. Or Cake. Pick your favourite version!)

Robbie doesn't want to be having fun.

He's still beat from training earlier in the day - Brooks seems convinced he's found a way to cheat his systems and had him repeat every course, twice. The muscles in his legs still shake a little every time he stops moving for longer than a few seconds. That isn't much of an issue, though, because the music in the arena thrums through his body like the relay gel through suit circuitry. Between that, the UV lights revealing the intricate paint and tattoos over everyone's skin - there is a lot more exposed skin here than he's used to - and the sheer amount of people, he doesn't know what to pay attention to. He feels like a kid in a toy shop. He definitely can't afford anything on sale, but--

He's about to watch demons tear each other apart for sport. It shouldn't be exciting.

You don't unclench even for a second, huh.

It's much easier to ignore the voice in all this noise. Cho grins at him - or at least he hopes that's Cho, his face lit up in green strokes he can't follow for very long without getting a bit dizzy. His arms are glowing, too, even though he didn't put any paint on them - he didn't strike Robbie as someone who would get tattoos. Shows what he knows. Cho says something Robbie can't hear over the music and pulls him by the arm through the crowd, closer to the edge of the viewing platform. People who don't want to make way get elbowed aside. It's honestly a minor miracle nobody knocks his teeth out.

Cho has his phone out, and what looks like a bank app open. No, it's betting. There's an app to bet on the fight, because of course there is. Cho points to the edge of the square space below, still talking.

"I can't--" Robbie sighs, and lets himself be pulled down to a talk-into-ear level.

"I said we're really damn lucky!" Cho shouts. "It's Sister Grimm versus Ghost Rider!"

Robbie has no idea what either of those names mean, but judging by the numbers ticking up on the app, they're pretty popular. Racing never brought in this much money. It could be something to look into, when the whole jaeger business inevitably blows up in his face. Provided Robbie doesn't blow up right along with it, that is.

He listens out, but the voice either doesn't have a comment, or is too quiet to make out in the growing racket in the arena. Suddenly, all the lights go out, leaving only the glow of the tattoos and a single red beam pointing to the stage in the middle of the arena.

A projection of a tall man in a white suit appears to the general approval of the crowd. He speaks in Cantonese, so Robbie has no clue what he's actually saying, but he can pick it up from context - the fight is about to begin.

"That's Sister Grimm!" Cho elbows him to look to stage left, where a young Asian woman wearing mostly just paint strikes a pose to the beat of the music. She blows a kiss to the man in the white suit, who mimes fainting before picking up his mic to introduce the other fighter.

Some of Robbie’s unease returns at the sight of the Ghost Rider. He's wearing what seems to be a heavily modified drivesuit - it's covered in all manner of studs and spikes, the spinal clasp made to look like it's partially ripped out. What's visible of his skin is painted black to better contrast the skull-like tattoos across his face, like the bones are breaking through to the surface. He has enough metal in his face to build a tank out of, and when the cameras zoom in, Robbie spots a series of painful-looking subdermal implants along his cheekbones.

"He's big back home!" Cho tells him. "I didn't know he even left the continent!"

Wait a second. Not too quiet, then. Wait a goddamn second, it can't be--

Both riders step closer to the fighting pit. The crowd quiets down, and so does the music. The white suit dissolves into a cloud of sparkles. The riders' respective teams are a flurry of well-rehearsed chaos behind them, their gear looking nearly as complicated as anything on the LOCCENT bridge back at the base.

He hears the growl first. It's low, the reverberation standing up every hair on Robbie’s neck. Not quite like facing a Cat 4 - he doesn't think anything quite compares to having The Charger's head locked in the jaws of a monster the size of a skyscraper - but the primal fear it evokes is familiar. The dark shape slithering out from under Sister Grimm's stage reminds him of a bird stuck in an oil spill, its long arms connected to its body with leathery membranes. It drags itself to the middle of the ring and gives out a guttural roar.

The response to the call is instantaneous - the other demon rips into the pit like it was clawing at the gate to be let out and stands on two of it's six legs to scream. It's a chilingly human sound. It looks skeletal and thoroughly alien, like no animal Robbie has ever seen, and he can't tell whether the orange glow on it's hide is paint or something natural.

"He hasn't lost a fight in four years!" Cho yells into his ear. Robbie can believe that. As the demons circle each other in the ring, Sister Grimm looks determined, focused. Ghost Rider seems to barely be paying attention. His demon is similarly distracted, eyeing the crowd above it like it's planning out its dinner.

No, it's the fucking Corinthian Maneuver! The voice groans. He's even doing that stupid half-turn-- What are those idiots in the academy even teaching you?

Robbie really, really hates it when the voice says something he has no way of knowing about. Corinthian sounds vaguely biblical, though, so maybe it's--

Hydra. Hydra Corinthian. It used to run point on... The voice sighs like Robbie is it's single greatest disappointment. Never-fucking-mind, watch the fight.

Sister Grimm attacks first, the monster's claws swiping out with deadly speed, but despite the appearances Ghost Rider is ready - his demon dodges out of the way and up the wall, bouncing off it to land a heavy hit on its opponent's trunk. It doesn't follow up - it backs up and waits for the bird to right itself. At first, Robbie thinks it's some weird sort of sportsmanship, a way to prolong the fight. He's right on the latter, but it quickly becomes obvious sportsmanship has nothing to do with this fight.

Sister Grimm barely manages to get a hit in - Ghost Rider is too fast, slinking under the wing-like arms and taking nips out of the oily hide like he isn't even interested in making them count. He's playing with his food.

Robbie doesn't know how to feel about that. Logically, he recognises he's watching a mostly-illegal pit brawl in the shadiest part of the Bone Slums. It's probably rigged. He's probably the only person in the whole arena not to know how the fight will end, and the combined unfairness of it all starts to simmer low in his chest. When he looks at Cho, though, he's practically hanging over the railing of the platform to get a better view at where Sister Grimm just manages to snag a claw between Ghost Rider's bony ribs. He looks to Robbie with a huge grin on his face before pulling him down to shout: "They're using jaeger tactics! Can you imagine Ivanov's face if he hears about it?!"

And, well, that is a pretty good image to tuck away for the next time the Colonel has an opinion on The Charger's deployment position. Not that he ever will hear about it - not from Robbie, at the very least.

Down in the pit, Sister Grimm has Ghost Rider in a headlock. Both beasts are bleeding from shallow wounds, the black substance oozing out and down onto the concrete. Lesser demons don't excrete corruption like their larger counterparts, but the sight still makes him back away from the barrier.

Don't be a fucking baby, the voice chides. Even the nerd has more balls than you.

The nerd doesn't get sprayed with it on the regular, Robbie thinks sullenly.

Neither do you. Your pod is like a goddamn armored egg now, back in the day we had sea water coming through the vents--oooh, look at that!

Sister Grimm swiped the legs out from under the Ghost Rider with it's wing, and has the beast pinned. The bird creature's beak opens so wide it almost unhinges, and the other monster appears to have given up. Everyone seems to hold their breath at once, but when Robbie looks to its master, the man is smiling, his orange teeth-tattoos stretching with it in a very unsettling manner.

Just as the beak is about to snap shut on his beast's neck, its middle legs--pop out of sockets. The suddenly elongated limbs wrap around the bird's neck and twist, and Sister Grimm screams in agony as her demon drops down, dead. The crowd explodes, people all around Robbie yelling and stomping their feet as once again the music rises to it's previous levels.

"How--!" Robbie has to hold onto Cho's shirt before he topples over the barrier. "Did you see that?!"

Ghost Rider whoops, turning to high-five one of his techs while his beast heaves the corpse off of itself and runs a victorious lap around the ring. It scales its walls nearly to the barrier, snapping at the audience's outstretched hands.

Fucking show-off, the voice grumbles, and Robbie can't help but snort in laughter. Showing off seems well deserved at this point. The man in the white suit reappears on the Rider’s side of the stage, lifting up his arm in victory. He's saying something, but Cho is already dragging Robbie away and down the rickety stairs to pit level.

"Wait, where--?" Robbie doesn't have to resist very hard for Cho to have to pause in his attempted kidnapping. He looks over his shoulder, betrayed. "Where are you going?"

Cho nearly jumps up and down in place, impatient. "Are you kidding me we're going to have a look at that beastie if I have to break into it's paddock!" he exclaims and sprints off, and-- God damn it. This is exactly why Robbie has been reluctant to come.

[riding-palominos-every-day]

Finally finished a little piece I've been working on for a while called Stop Soaking The Scabs:

After Crutchie’s arrest, Jack had been ready to bail on the strike. There was no chance he was putting his boys back in danger after what had happened; half of them had already been in the Refuge, and the other half Jack prayed never saw further than the exterior wall. He’d rather die than willingly put any of them in a situation where they could end up there.

But there was finally hope. His faith in their cause had been reignited by Davey and Katherine, and his motivation was in full swing. The other newsies had been overjoyed to see him back at the lodging house, and with an upcoming rally in three days time Jack had helped with the preparations, lending his artistry to a representative sign for Manhattan, as well as several picket signs.

The evening edition was being rolled out, scabs were no doubt still selling, but the Lower Manhattan newsies stood fast in their decision. Some of the older boys went out to try and convince scabs to join the cause, whilst the rest were laying low at the lodging house. Jack doubted there were many scabbers left, now that Brooklyn had voiced their support, but he was well aware Pulitzer and Hearst both had hired strikebreakers.

Davey, Racetrack, Albert, Mush and Specs were out, everyone else was supposed to be in: Smalls, JoJo, Mike and Finch were playing cards, Buttons was patching up Ike’s vest, and most of the other boys were dozing or talking softly. Sniper and Splasher, still recovering from their injuries from the riot, were sat by the window on watch.

But Jack had noticed two more absences. Two that worried him.

“Where are Elmer and Romeo?”

A few boys mumbled vague uncertainties, glancing between each other and shrugging. Even JoJo, Elmer’s closest friend, shrugged helplessly when Jack turned to him for an answer. He saw a look of guilt flash across Splasher’s face, and without even needed to ask Jack figured they weren’t in the lodge.

He stood up, straightening his vest and putting his hat on.

“M’gonna go look for ‘em.”

“Be careful, Jack.” Smalls said, not looking up from his cards.

Jack climbed out onto the fire escape, making his way down to street level. He wracked his brains, trying to think where the kids could be. They wouldn’t be selling, so it was no use checking their usual corners. If any of the protesting boys had found them, they would’ve brought them home.

Maybe Elmer had gone to visit his siblings? But why go without telling anyone? He doubted Romeo would’ve gone with him... and he knew Romeo would rather be dead than see his family again.

They were in trouble, Jack concluded. No other explanation added up. Heart quickening, he made his way down every street with haste, hoping to find them before things got too serious.

He’d expected to find the youngest boys in trouble. Not to find them being the ones causing it.

Romeo had another boy pinned to the ground in an alley, whilst Elmer paced back and forth by the boy’s head, a newspaper bag clutched in his fist. Ripped papers littered the ground around them. Jack felt frozen, not quite believing what he was seeing.

“We told ya we ain’t sellin’ anymore!” Elmer’s voice was louder than usual, and Jack could tell he was trying to put on a tough facade, “Not until Mr. Pulitzer and Mr. Hearst stop, uh.. stop...” 

“Screwin’ us around?” Romeo suggested. He readjusted his hold, pushing the scab harder against the ground. “Quit squirmin’!”

“Yeah, yeah! Til they stop screwin’ us around! So why’re you still sellin’?” Elmer emphasised his last word with a sudden kick to the boy’s shoulder. Their captive let out a squeal of pain.

“B-But I gotta feed my family!” He protested. Elmer’s eyes flashed angrily.

“And y’think the rest of us don’t?” The younger boy’s voice was steadily growing angrier, his fists clenched so tight his knuckles were white.

“I ain’t the guy to be talkin’ about feedin’ a family to.”

“We’re doin’ this so we can afford to look after ourselves and our families!” Romeo snapped, his tone colder than Jack ever thought possible for a twelve year old, “You scabs are messin’ everything up!”

And all at once, the two kids pounced. There was a shriek from the scabber, his legs kicking furiously in an attempt to get away. Jack heard a crack and felt a sick feeling in his gut; Elmer and Romeo were sweet kids, he’d never seen them act so ruthlessly violent.

“Alright, enough!” He barked, marching forward. He hauled the younger boys off the scab -careful not to grab them too tight or be rough- and knelt down. A SoHo newsie from the looks of him. His elbow was scraped and his nose bleeding; his eyes were blown wide in fear.

“Hey, hey... s’okay kid.” Jack soothed, “I’m sorry ‘bout my coworkers.”

He pulled out one of his old painting rags from his pocket, finding a clean corner before carefully dabbing at the other newsie’s bloody nose.

“Go on, get outta here.” He helped the younger boy to his feet, watching as he tore out of the alley and down the street. A sharp blow to his side made him wheel round, the next making contact with his stomach. He grabbed Elmer’s fist before he could throw another punch, and the kid let a wordless, agitated shout through gritted teeth.

“Don’t hit me.” Jack said softly.

“You messed everythin’ up-!”

“Don’t hit me, Elmer. You’re old enough to know better.”

Elmer made a few clumsy swipes at him, still making those angry little half-shouts he made when he was stressed or frustrated, but he very quickly seemed to lose heart. Jack released the boy’s hand, satisfied when Elmer let his arm drop to his side. He hated reprimanding the younger boys over anything, usually the younger kids could do no wrong in his eyes, but he had to nip this behaviour in the bud before it got his brothers in serious trouble.

Romeo’s kept his gaze fixed on the ground, fiddling with his hands. Elmer now looked on the verge of tears. Jack immediately felt his usual instinct to pull them close and soothe them, but he stood firm. He needed to figure out what had caused this.

“Naw, no tears an’ no lookin’ away.” He kept his tone firm, but was careful not to sound too angry, “You guys have got some explainin’ to do. We told you guys to stay inside, and you not only snuck out, but went to go attack some poor kid-”

“He was scabbing!” Elmer interjected shrilly. Jack raised a hand to silence him.

“-You guys attacked a kid, and at a time where the cops are more on our asses than ever. A bull catches you soakin’ some guy and you two would be joinin’ Crutchie in the Refuge.”

Jack ignored the sob caught in his throat, the pain in his chest when he thought of Crutchie.

“I already got one brother locked up, ain’t no way I’m havin’ you two taken away as well.”

Both boys had the decency to look suitably ashamed, although Jack could still see Elmer’s fists were clenched tightly.

“You wanna talk ‘bout anythin’, El?”

Any composure Elmer had kept until then suddenly exploded all at once.

“I’m angry, Jack! I’m angry at the scabbers, I’m angry at the bulls, I’m angry at the Delanceys an’ Mr. Pulitzer and Mr. Hearst and- and...” He paused to catch his breath, physically shaking with the emotion of his outburst. Jack saw his hand reach up to his head, and he swiftly -but gently- grabbed the younger boy’s fist before it made impact.

“We’s just trying to survive, and it feels like everyone’s against us.” Romeo finished. 

Jack couldn’t deny it. They were right, he hated how right they were. He felt a weight against his shoulder; Elmer was slumped against him, his breathing ragged and shaky. Jack instinctively wrapped an arm around him, inviting Romeo into the hug with his free arm. He didn’t agree with what they’d done, not at all. But his kids were scared and very rightfully angry, he couldn’t stay mad with them.

They stayed there for some time, holding each other tightly and surrounded by the scabber’s ruined papers.

“C’mon, we’re goin’ home.”

Romeo seemed content to walk beside him (although he kept a death grip on Jack’s hand), but Elmer seemed to have exhausted himself. Jack hoisted him onto his hip, and Elmer instinctively wrapped his arms around his neck. They walked in silence for the first block or two, before Jack had to have another question answered.

“Splasher looked like I’d caught him with his hand in someone’s pocket when I asked where you two where. D’you tell him where you’d gone?”

“We asked him,” Romeo said, still struggling to make eye contact, “Well.. Elmer did. He said he didn’t wanna come though, said it was dangerous an’ we weren’t s’posed to.”

“And he’s damn right on both accounts.” Jack said, “Shame on you for askin’ him to go out when he’s recoverin’ from a head injury. And so’s you, in fact!” He jostled Elmer slightly, making sure the eleven year old was listening.

“No wonder you got the idea to go out soakin’ scabs, your brain’s still all rattled after that knock you took.”

Elmer made a strange little noise, halfway between tired and agitated. He’d no doubt overwhelmed himself with this little escapade, and for once Jack hoped it would be one of the times he was exhausted for the rest of the day; at least he’d stay put if he had to rest. 

“We were tryin’ to help, Jack.” Romeo’s voice was very quiet, barely more than a whisper.

“I think what really happened is you kids are stressed t’your limits and don’ know how to cope. Y’knew the scabs were a problem, so you saw a chance to both get out some’a that pent-up anger and get a couple more scabs on our side.”

The silence from the younger boys was all the answer he needed. Maybe they didn’t know how to verbalise it quite that articulately, but he was fairly confident he’d hit the nail on the head. Romeo’s grip on his hand tightened a little, and he felt Elmer’s head push further into his shoulder.

Jack started humming to himself as they walked, one of the piano tunes they played at Medda’s theatre. It seemed to put the kids at ease.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“You found them!”

JoJo shot forward as soon as Jack entered the room, quickly scooping up Elmer and carrying him over to his bunk. Jack let him fuss for once; tensions were high enough, and the kids’ unauthorised venture had stretched everyone’s nerves to the breaking point. Romeo let go of Jack’s hand, heading for his own bunk and curling up into a ball.

“Yeah, found ‘em tryin’ to crack some kid’s head open.” Jack said, sitting beside Tommy Boy.

“Why?” Sniper asked, looking concerned. 

“They say they though they were helpin’. I reckon they‘re just gettin’ overwhelmed by the whole strike. Ro said he felt like everyone’s against us.. he ain’t exactly wrong.”

The room fell into an uneasy silence. Tommy Boy bumped his head against Jack’s shoulder, a rare sign of affection for the younger boy. Jack paused, before wrapping his arm around Tommy’s shoulders. 

The boys playing cards were hardly focused on their game anymore, tossing down and picking up cards at random. Ike was humming agitatedly, rocking back and forth, whilst Buttons kept unraveling and rewinding the same spool of thread. This latest incident had clearly unsettled everyone.

Jack glanced over to Elmer, already asleep beside JoJo. The whole idea seemed to be more his plan than Romeo’s, and that worried Jack somewhat. Elmer was usually a sweet, happy kid, but there was a lot of anger in the little guy, and he didn’t always have the healthiest ways of releasing it. He’d been in a lot of fights in the past.

“Once all’a this is over, m’gonna ask Spot if I can the kids over to Coney.” Jack announced to nobody in particular, “They need a break most outta all of us.”

There was a scattering of murmurs and grunts of agreement. Jack started running his fingers absentmindedly through Tommy Boy’s hair, suddenly feeling a swell of pride in chest. Despite everything, his boys still stuck together.

He made a mental note not to let a repeat of today happen again. At the rally, perhaps he could mention something. He doubted Elmer and Romeo’s attack was an isolated incident, and it wouldn’t do any good for newsies city-wide to be fighting amongst themselves. 

He didn’t want anyone else hurt.

[mintytealfox]

Hi-ho! I got a headcanon for nortalice, food related this time! 😁

Now, I imagine that Norton didn't have much of warm/hot food during his life, much less access to them. The one time he had hot food, was when he was 5 and had a cold, and his father made watery soup that was more hot water than anything (Don't mind me, just sliding my own headcanon about his parent 😅) So when he does have hot food (maybe Alice takes him out to eat together, maybe as part of a stake out for a story she's tracking) and takes a bite, he's genuinely taken aback by the flavors and warmth , that he starts silently tearing up, much to Alice's concern and him just trying to quickly regain his composure and wiping away his tears.

And relating this to acts of service being a love language (maybe? 😅), I like to imagine Norton trying to cook for Alice. Like maybe after sleeping over at her apartment, he wants to repay her back and wants to whip up some breakfast. Problem is: Norton doesn't know how to cook. Then again, poor guy staved off stale loaves of bread and maybe boiled potatoes. So imagine Alice's face when she sees a plate of uneven cuts of fruits and mushed potatoes that were not peeled, much to his embarssment XD

But he is open to learn and he and Alice bond over that, because I can imagine that during her time as an experiment subject, she was only fed food that provided the necessary substances and nutrients, no paid mind to flavor or style 😓

Sidenote: I'm split between if they are the type to feed each other food or not, maybe if they feel playful? 😊😅

FOOD 🤌🤌👏👏👏👏😍

Gosh yea, I bet it was bread all day everyday, easiest to buy, easiest to find, and it can last a bit before going bad ah

gosh he really does strike me as someone who enjoys warmth in the comfort sense ;;

awww, I really do hope his dad took good care of him even though he himself was dying ;; Sounds like he was a really good kid and guy for a long while until he finally snapped ;; So I am wondering if he learned that good from his dad since the mom isn't mentioned ever ah

I bet Norton only knows how to cook what kept him alive all this time, like you said probably potatoes and bread (GOSH this dude gets me all sad sometimes AHHHH) BUT I bet he makes them potatoes and bread real well with those nasty potatoes and flour he could afford. So seeing the fancy potatoes and flour he'd be like "even the flour and potatoes look rich here....." Going about the usual routine and seeing how his process works with this fancy versions. Might taste real good actually lol Only making one meal over and over and over, bruhv an expert at that meal lol -curls up in a ball and sobs, NORTON-

YES! He has such a thirst for knowledge he would take to the teaching so well! Bro being a good COOK -SOBS-

GOSH! Receiving that help and assistance to broaden the sorts of foods he can eat, so he won't get as sick when branching out anymore, and Alice sitting with him when he does get sick from too much nutrient rich foods -SOOOOOOBS-

LOL I don't think they would feed each other unless one was sick~ Then I could see it LOL

[lordtraco]

Giants are hot

Tw: mild emetophobia warning, depressive episode, angst with sorta happy ending

(@somerandomdudelmao took my writers block and suplexed it. I just have SO MANY thoughts on what's going on in Oscar's mind that it became a tiny fic. If I get it wrong, that just means I get to write another that's more right later!)

Oscar curled up in his bed, trying not to think about the slightly-different gravity this cool spaceship created. It wasn't obvious if he kept moving, and he could forget about it right up until he laid down on something soft. Different gravity meant a different planet size, right? Ward could probably crunch the numbers and piece together the exact size of the Marmor home planet if he wanted to based on some funky science.

Ah, Ward, he was glad the guy was safe now, snoring away just like he had aboard their last, far less cool ship. “We humans need to be around other humans…” he muttered to himself.

It wasn't fair. He and Ward barely knew each other, and for all he played up their “friend” status to others, it was a joke at best and a lie at worst. They were opposites in so many ways.

It wasn't fair. Oscar clenched his fist and tried to will the tears away. It was only supposed to be a fun trip. Harass the big, gorgeous nerd so that when their social circles inevitably tore them apart back on Earth, it wouldn't hurt Ward. Oscar knew better than to think it wouldn't hurt himself, but he knew he could manage. He'd gotten over these things before. These crushes.

It wasn't FAIR! Oscar rolled out of his bed, deciding to go for a walk. “It's not fair.” He muttered as he left, playing as if he hadn't noticed the lack of snores. So what if Ward heard? The guy just thought he was a heartless killer with blood on his hands now.

Not a fool who'd went and fallen for the unattainable nerdy giant. Not a scared man just trying to make use of his only skill to keep them all alive. Not a dude hiding his tears over the image of Ward restrained and terrified and oh, so much like the flying-

It wasn't fair, Ward didn't deserve this. He didn't deserve to be lightyears away from those he would call friends. He didn't deserve to be stuck with someone like Oscar. He should have been safe at home, fuming that some dumb rich kid stole the chance to go into space and disappeared.

But those were always the options, weren't they? Be hated for stealing the show, or be despised for failing to be useful. So, he stole the show, made friends with the dangerous, and indulged in whatever joy he could find at any moment.

Ecliptica was beautiful and powerful, conniving and sweet. She was someone who would eat him alive for the slightest infraction. It reminded him of home, just a bit less metaphorical. The blatant honesty of that was intoxicating.

Giants were hot. He had a crush on one who would never hug him, and one who would. The alien crush should supersede his failed crush, but it only worsened things both ways. He wished that Ecliptica could care about him more than just a useful pet. And he wished that Ward could look that happy to see him.

Oscar pressed a hand against the wall, letting himself break. Tears welled in his eyes and he saw Ward’s hard stare, unforgiving of the cost the “birds” had paid for their current freedom. The girl screaming for help. The masses torn skillfully from living, breathing, speaking people into just. Meat.

His stomach revolted, and he breathed heavily through the wave of nausea. It didn't help that his tears clogged up his nose. It was like his whole body wanted to punish him.

Ecliptica found him. Of course she did. Her pet was sick.

It wasn't fair.

Where was this comfort for Ward? For the guy with a heart of gold beneath the wary sarcasm? Where was the care and tenderness for him?

Oscar could only hope that it would come from their newest roommate. He wasn't sure how much alone time he could offer them now that he knew how quickly the loneliness and guilt could strike. He couldn't afford to be useless to the Marmor. They all couldn't afford Oscar being useless to the Marmor.

Ecliptica tutted softly as Oscar emptied his stomach again. She would have to be more careful not to let bird blood splash on him in the future and said as much.

“Yeah, I guess I won't get to know the difference between the normal and the tasty ones.”

“We’ll help you grow a stronger stomach.”

Oscar was glad he was too drained to panic from that statement. He simply passed out to the feeling of being held close and tenderly carried somewhere. In his fleeting consciousness, his heart won out and he imagined it was Ward carrying him back home. Safe, nothing asked of him, nothing caused by him, just held like a precious living thing.

[radiantlyrey]

Thoughts on Uprising ep14 “Tagged”

- note: we are now in Unknown Territory, for me! I have not watched any episodes past this point! all I know is what I’ve seen chatter about; that’s it!! SO LET’S GET STARTED.

- cold open: I see we have a team of feral dogs libertarian street artists making trouble in Argon! good thing they got away from the cops, at least?? (in re: feral dogs: Night Vale references? anyone? anyone?)

- “my fanclub strikes again” “you mean my fanclub” Tron are you being SASSY??? I agree with Beck, this is an improvement!!

- I get the sense from this conversation that Beck is still a little testy about his encounter with Cyrus, hence his insistence on bringing the street artists into the fold. Tron is advising caution, but I think Beck is feeling a little stretched thin by all this Renegade stuff and wants some, y’know, help. can’t say I blame the kid.

- then we cut to Paige dealing with a bomb threat on a train and it is lowkey kind of hilarious how she shoves the bomb squad aside and fucking opens the bomb herself—like girl!!!!! we have the bomb squad for a reason!!!!!!! STOP. thank god it’s just a paint bomb, cause she would’ve been derezzed instantly if it wasn’t.

- then Beck catches up with the artists three and basically does to them what Tron did to him; poses as a Black Guard and questions them and then reveals himself to be “Tron” aka the Renegade. also the subtitles totally gave away Mara’s role in the Jolly Tricksters, which… boo. but I love Beck’s obvious shock when he sees her; he was not counting on that! also Mara kind of flirting with “Tron” makes me (and Beck) uncomfortable…..

- meanwhile back at Tron’s, Beck tries to feel out why Tron chose him and also tries to suss out what, if anything, Tron will tell him about the Stranger/Cyrus. (again, not sure Cyrus actually introduced himself in the previous episode; I think I was too busy cussing to actually remember….) anyway, Beck wants Tron to tell him about Cyrus, but Tron is apparently pretending that chapter of his life DID NOT HAPPEN. (also Beck’s weird wrist circuits are still freaking me out………. hope they don’t prove significant in the future……)

- back in the main plot (though I’m surprised that this episode is ALL A-plot! no charming sideplot required, apparently!): Beck gets the Jolly Tricksters to do a distraction so he can sneak in and get some intel from Tesler’s ship. he’s in and out with no trouble, but then: trouble arrives!! in the form of Moog and Rasket who want to put a tag on Tesler’s whole ass ship. Mara is the only one of them with any sense, and she insists on going with the Renegade to get them back.

- so Moog and Rasket (Raskay~~ whatever your name is Rasket) do their big tag, and get fucking caught by Pavel. and taken to a torture chamber, essentially. Pavel’s doing that thing where he swings between silly and deadly serious and it’s a little terrifying. the torture device is horrifying and very much Do Not Want from me, like……… holy shit. and they don’t even shy away from showing it onscreen!!!! WHAT THE FUCK, SHOW. it’s like the creators realized Disney wasn’t gonna do shit to promote their show and just decided to do whatever!!!!!!!! jesus.

- Mara and Beck-as-Renegade save them tho!!! hooray!! and then Beck gives them all an assignment—keep the gate open—that Moog and Rasket immediately give up on and Mara, I can’t believe you thought you could control these two!! my god!!! but she manages to buy time for the Renegade as Beck is fighting Paige (there were some good shots in that fight btw) and they all just barely escape and ooOOF.

- less great that Moog and Rasket are out, and that Beck, as much as he needs Mara, can’t afford to put his friend in danger and essentially pushes her away. sigh.

- and then Beck and Tron have a conversation in PUBLIC ABOUT THIS???? AND TRON DON’T EVEN HAVE HIS FACE COVERED???????? the FUCK are you doing Tron???? GODDDDD.

- that said the coda of Mara doing another tag is glorious, and I hope we see more of her efforts towards revolution in the future. Beck is absolutely right: she really truly believes in the cause, and if (who she thinks is) Tron telling her he doesn’t need her doesn’t make her give up, then nothing will.

- all in all: fun little romp of an episode, and a very nice breather after the sheer fuck-inducing intensity of the previous episode.

[majorbaby]

Damn, hope you feel better. Hawk/Trapper: 7, 8, 9, 42 And Trapper/BJ: 8, 9, 17, 22, 23, 24

i actually fell asleep as soon as i rb'd the ask game and woke up four hours later feeling a lot better. anyway, thank you <3

ask game

Hawk/Trapper

7. How often do they say “I love you”?

I feel like they say it jokingly all the time as part of the flirty thing they have going on. Hawkeye probably has no problem saying it in more serious contexts but I could see Trapper as being less of a words guy, more touch/acts of service/quality time. He might say it in a fit of passion tho ;) This is fine for them. I don't think Hawkeye needs to hear it too often.

8. What do they love most about the other? Why?

I think it's the same for both of them about the other - shared values. Namely: compassion, playfulness and sincerity. I think Trapper is probably charmed by Hawkeye's razor sharp wit too.

9. What do they dislike most about the other? Why? I can't think of anything too serious. Hawkeye can be a slob compared to Trapper, it caused their only fight. I could see that causing some tension in a shared living situation. Hawkeye about Trapper... i think Trapper might be a smidge more grounded than Hawkeye. We never saw that cause problems between them on screen but maybe it would have, similar to how BJ will sometimes rib Hawkeye for being outlandish but yk, more playful than BJ ever was about it.

42. What’s their relationship like with each other’s friends/families? I mostly see Daniel as staying out of Hawkeye's love life and I don't vibe with fics that have him being overly involved or forthcoming with his thoughts on Hawkeye's lovers, regardless of the ship. I feel it would almost need to be that way if Hawkeye's with a man in the 50s. I also have a hard time seeing them (Hawk/Trap in this case) living in the same home as Daniel if they're together postwar, they'd need their own space, but they'd probably come back for holidays. Trapper and Daniel are both doctors and they also both strike me as reserved in comparison to Hawkeye, so they might quietly vibe. Fun thing I noticed on rewatch, when Hawkeye does the recording to send to his father, Trapper calls him "Dad" lol, cute. Foreshadowing, even...

I am less optimistic about Trapper's family. I don't see them as being accepting of Trapper being gay/bi - I think he'd quietly divorce Louise, see his kids on weekends and stay mum about his relationships. Not uncommon for the time period. Maybe once Kathy and Becky are older they come to understand who "Uncle Hawkeye" really is to their dad.

Trapper/BJ

huhuhu thank you for indulging me, I hope you're ready for some cracky headcanons.

8. What do they love most about the other? Why?

I think Trapper might represent some kind of unachievable ideal for BJ. How is this guy so comfortable with himself when talking about sucking another man's dick? I don't know BJ, maybe you should practicing sucking dick and figure that out for yourself.

Trapper's also just full of charm, I know BJ has some jealous tendencies but I really think if they hung out for a while things would blow over and they'd get on fine.

Trapper about BJ... I think Trapper might enjoy the chase and the challenge. Or it could be purely carnal. Or ,ore seriously I think in contrast to Hawkeye, Trapper might come to appreciate BJ's more cautious approach to medicine. If Trapper grew up working class, then there's a part of him that can't afford to be as carefree as Hawkeye, the more shrewd BJ might appeal to him in some ways.

17. How well do they communicate? Are they open with their feelings/thoughts or more reserved? Why?

BJ is playing games and Trapper is just extremely upfront and doesn't take the kind of crap that Hawkeye will sometimes put up with. I think he forces BJ's hand a lot quicker than Hawkeye might, because Trapper's not as likely to be baited by BJ.

There's also great smut potential for Trapper breaking BJ in and teaching him to communicate his needs via orgasm denial idk.

22. Are they comfortable joking around with each other and being silly/playful?

No! Trapper makes the most lighthearted of jokes and BJ loses his mind! Ends in angry (BJ), amused (Trapper) sex.

23. What are the defining characteristics of their relationship?

For me it's about funny, sometimes awful sex. Not un-hawnk-like.

24. How do their personalities affect their relationship? Do their characteristics compliment each other, or clash often?

They might be experiencing two entirely different relationships, BJ taking things way too seriously and trying to glean Trapper's motives, but Trapper doesn't have a motive beyond being open and sincere and giving BJ earthshattering orgasms. I like the idea of BJ being unable to separate sex from power/control whereas for Trapper it's about fun, love or both.

But I think Trapper being so easygoing might actually make this work - though probably not forever. I can't imagine an endgame situation for them but I think BJ would walk away from it having grown a lot, maybe having some new ideas about what masculinity and sex (and the intersection of these two things) can look like. Basically I think Trapper could fix him and they part on good terms. Maybe they hook up here and there until BJ settles down with some suburban housewife twink (and then, threesomes!!)

[casitafallz]

LTRL AU | Actions have Consequences, dear

Luisa hadn’t known what she had walked up upon as she headed to collect some stones from downtown for the new repairs the church needed to one. A rogue lightning strike of natural weather had caused damage, a small fire that had damaged the roof and the supports that needed replacements. There had been a few plans of renovations as well on top but Luisa knew her heavy-lifted was needed and it felt good to be needed.

She hadn’t quite noticed the man standing at her Abuelita’s door until she was past him and about to turn down towards their quarry and paused—she knew her Abuelita wasn’t home to answer the door; why was he there—turning her head in time to see her elder sister pulling him in with excitement and a sense of hurried before it was shut swiftly.

Luisa stared for a long moment.

A part of her hoped that her eyes had simply deceived her and she hadn’t seen Isabela invite a fit, young man into Abuelita’s home was no doubt in the same age range. She knew vaguely this was the Marquez kid, she didn’t know names but she knew he worked in the carpentry business given she wasn’t to give help to the boy, his father or even the sister now they were blacklisted from Madrigal aid. The family wasn’t supposed to help which meant it…wasn’t for commissions Isabela had invited him in for.

It almost made her skin crawl at the idea because she knew what a man and a woman would do if they were clearly sneaking around. It wasn’t the activity in general that repulsed her but…Isa doing it and…the sneaking around behind their backs that did added to the discomfort.

Perhaps it also was the fact that Abuela had made it clear growing up that things should only be between married couples. Luisa knew from the accidental-walk in with her parents to know, but they were married and so, it was okay.

Not this.

Not Isabela.

Luisa found herself awkward hurrying away from Abuelita’s house because…she didn’t want to hear or see anything. Not that.

Isabela wasn’t married and… she was with a boy. Luisa knew the rules were a little different now given Isa was between homes but this? This wasn’t right. The No-boys rule was very clear and Luisa hadn’t heard Abuela mentioning it would drop. How could she easily just… do that and at Abuelita’s house as well?

It turned her stomach. That wasn’t right either. Abuelita didn’t know if Isa had snuck him in. It seemed perfect for her sister to see the opportunity; both of their grandparents were out; the house was empty. Abuelita didn’t deserve to have her home defiled in such behaviors. They didn’t need that shame. They deserved so much better than this now.

Why was Isabela doing this?

Luisa had thought she wanted to change, especially after that plant mess on the day Mirabel got her door. Luisa had felt pity then but… that was less extreme than this. Nreak rules for her…enjoyment. She needed to set this right, somehow. This didn’t need to happen. Isa didn’t need to add more issues to the family.

Didn’t they have enough problems as it was?

Luisa knew she had to be there for Mirabel; keeping her safe and she couldn’t afford to let a repeat happen again. Not to Mirabel and not any more damage to the family. She was strong, and she could protect the family… but even then she knew the limits if this got past the family borders.

Like this.

With Isa and the boy.

“Luisa, are you alright?”

Luisa hadn’t realized she was hovering at the edge of the street to the plaza, hands clenched at her sides and she didn’t know what expression was on her face before she looked down to see Abuela staring up at her in concern. She felt her heart increase but she felt relieved to see her.

Abuela.

Someone to sort this out.

Luisa paused for a second. “I…I don’t know.” She spared a glance down the street she had been coming from “Er…”

Abuelita followed her gaze down the street though looked at her in confusion at nothing, probably expecting there to be a rogue donkey, which Luisa would have preferred. At least then it was something she could handle and know how to handle.

“Can you tell me what happened? I’ve never seen you look so stunned.” Abuela’s concern was touching.

Luisa stared, trying to find the words for a moment. “So…I…think I saw Isabela invite a man into Abuelita’s house.” She croaked out uncertainly. “I… thought she wasn’t supposed to be with boys?”

Abuela’s face turned from concern to confusion before masking off into careful anger. “A man? In Vera’s home….How old?”

The question threw Luisa off for a second but she scrambled quickly to answer. “I’d say…he looked about Isa’s age, possibly. Dark hair, tanned skin, muscular arms… just a bit shorter than Mariano. I think…he’s the Marquez boy, the blacklisted family but I can’t be sure.” Luisa didn’t know much more; she hadn’t paid that much attention to anything else because she was still processing the entire thing. “She looked…very happy to see him.”

Abuela spared a look around though nodded. “Lead me there.”

Luisa’s eyes widened, “Wait, you want to interrupt? What if they….” She didn’t finish but Abuela was already setting off though catching her up was easy in her long strides. “Shouldn’t we wait until…after?”

The entire notion was awkward; waiting for them to be done. No one needed a timer on that. She certainly didn’t but waiting was far better than walking in and seeing two naked people—and one of those was her sister. No thank you.

Abuela paused if for a moment in stride, “I’d rather not risk it, Luisa. If your sister is… breaking purposely set rules, I can’t just let that slide. God forbid, we don’t need anything to come from this when he finishes.”

The phrasing made her cringe a little as they got to the front steps.

“Oh, I know that I agree but I don’t want to see them…like that, Abuela” Luisa admitted. “It’ll be embarrassing…for all of us.”

Abuela gave her a look before she sighed out. “I know this isn’t what you want but… this cannot happen.” She reached the handle, giving it a turn but it didn’t go all the way—indicating it’s security—before she turned back. “Do you have a spare key?”

The locked door seemed to be another indicator of unsavory behavior. Luisa fished out the key from the pocket sewn into the inside of her skirt then wordlessly stepping opened it up and took a hesitant step in and nodded her chin towards the way towards the stairs; she knew her way more about Abuelita’s house more than Abuela after all.

Her stomach churned a little as she hesitantly followed, though cringed as she heard the creak of a bed spring before Abuela decided to go all out and slammed the door open.

Barely a second passed before Abuela spoke with a familiar, rage Luisa hadn’t wanted to hear.

“Get. Dressed. Now.”

Just past her shoulder, Luisa had the unfortunate sight to see Isa and the man both without their shirts, his hand clearly under her skirt though both looked shocked and pale like statues in fear that did not feel good to see.

Abuela spun around and gestured to her to follow. Luisa complied without a doubt.

“Take Marquez to his shop when he comes down, inform his father his son it not welcome around Isabela then get your other grandparents. We need to talk.”

“Si, Abuela.”

  Isabela felt sick.

Her insides felt like a cold void and her head felt light but she could feel her hands shaking under the table, tensely gripping the edge of her skirt and doing everything she could to stay composed. It was barely working though she felt the tears streak down her eyes, she kept her breathing in order; to claw on any sense of self-control than break down. Blood pumping through her ears was deafening but she tried to stay and keep composed as she could; to try and not feel this.

She didn’t want an early birth if stress would trigger it. It deserved so much better.

Dolores was on her left, pale and tense but the girl’s warm supportive, and tense touch on her knee helped; one the few things grounding her to the scene of the dining room and her Abuela’s fuming rage and her parent's distant discussion about her.

Tia Pepa and Tio Felix were there, seated with them but they were only there for Dolores who had run off, probably to try and talk Abuela down but clearly, it failed. Abuela knew by the girl’s reaction that she knew she had been keeping secrets; keeping this a secret. Isa hoped Dolores wasn’t punished too much. It hadn’t been as bad as what she did so she liked to think she wouldn’t face the loss of her relationship.

Luisa hadn’t returned yet.

She didn’t know what would happen… but she was terrified. The humiliation of being caught in bed by her own Abuela kept her cheeks tinged pink but she felt a bubbling anger in her veins, mostly at Luisa. Something she hadn’t expected would be that Luisa of all people would sell her out like this. No understanding or even trying to see of why

She didn’t dare want to admit the pregnancy to the family. Not now. Not after this…

Not to mention, she was terrified for Mateo—what had happened to him because… there was no doubt in her mind that Abuela would have seen to home going directly home. To his family.

She needed Fran… needed her to help him.

“It’s okay, Isa” Tio Felix’s voice echoed somewhere distantly close by and pulled her from her mind “this will all blow over.”

“Felix...” Tia Pepa’s voice was warning but not disapprovingly that more cautiously. “We’re not to condone this.”

“My Vida, she looks like she’s about to faint.” Felix replied, “And well…your mother once caught us in bed once before we told her we were dating. We all knew how you felt and…I guess it’s much worse for Isa right now.”

Tia Pepa’s face softened through the chill and the snow was unmistakable and it felt somewhat pleasant to focus on than her mind and fears.

“Isa,” Tia Pepa’s voice was somewhat soft this time, “you knew you weren’t supposed to be with a boy… why?”

Isabela swallowed, which was hard when her moth felt like dry paper but she found her voice. “I just…wanted to be happy.” She croaked. How broken her voice sounded, Isabela didn’t know but her eyes dropped as soon as she noticed Abuela leading her parents back toward them.

“Dolores. Go to your room. Pepa, Felix, You’ll discipline your daughter accordingly for her silence on the matter.” Abuela ordered swiftly, taking a seat.

Dolores’s hand begrudgingly let go before she jumped to her feet, heading off but not before Isa felt her look behind her but Isa kept her focus on a particular smudge on the tabletop. Her Tio and Tia left but not before she felt Tio Felix’s hand on her shoulder in passing.

Silence laps across the table and then their steps were gone and Isa idly wished she was with them. Away from this.

“One of the punishments I set after you attacked your sister was no boys.” Abuela started sharply, “I did not want you to date, let alone…bed the next boy you befriend. Let alone in the home of your other grandparents.” Her voice hinted with disgust, making her shrink down in her seat. “I didn’t think you were emotionally ready for such a commitment. I still don’t. We even made changes even to accommodate your new living situation because Vera insisted that you could be trusted. ” Her back was poised and her gaze was burning and Isabela still couldn’t meet her eye.  “What do you have to say for yourself?”

Silence fell between them but Isabela did the one thing that surprised not only Abuela and her parents, but herself; she snorted with dry laughter.

“Isa, this is serious,” Julieta whispered tiredly.

Isabela nodded in agreement. “I know,” she croaked, her lips drawn up into another, humorless smile, another sound leaving her lips. “Abuelita knows!”

That caught the other three off guard.

“Excuse me.” Abuela’s face covered her surprise.

Isabela sucked in a shaky breath, but where the confidence came from, she didn’t know but it gave her the strength to answer. “Abuelita knows. I told her everything. She said it was okay.” She had never been more grateful to actually told Abuelita the truth yesterday.

“What?” Agustín sat up, his face creasing in concern. “She gave you permission?” he wasn’t…angry like she expected but he seemed troubled—not that she overly cared right now about the fine print of his or Ma’s feelings.

“Yes.” She answered abruptly. “She didn’t agree with the no-boys rule so why are you so surprised, Pa?”

“Don’t speak to your father like that,” Abuela spoke, “and that shouldn’t change a thing, Isabela.”

“Let’s all take a breath here,” Julieta called out. “Ma, this conversation needs Vera as well to clear up the…mess this had landed us in. We should wait until Luisa brings her here.”

Isabela snorted a little, her nails digging into her palms. She couldn’t see that conversation ending well.

“How long have you…been with Señor Marquez?” Abuela asked next, getting back to the topic.

Isabela turned her focus from her father back to Abuela, keeping her clenched hands under the table still. “We started to talk just after Camilo spilled to the town as friends but we…didn’t do anything until about Antonio’s birthday.”

“Seven months?” Julieta’s eyebrow rose in surprise. “That long?”

Isabela shrugged, taking a shallow breath in. “Si.”

“Have you been using birth control?”

“Of course.” Isabela felt mildly offended that Abuela had to ask, she wasn’t stupid after the first time. Even if now, she was very pregnant, but while that was on her for succumbing to the emotional need for love and affection after what had happened. It…really put it in perspective that things would be no better if she spilled about the baby. Not now.

Not yet.

“At least you have some responsibility.” Abuela shook her head. “I can’t believe you’d do this…after everything you’ve done to this family?”

Isabela looked back to the smudge.

“Isa…. Why did you do this?” Julieta asked quietly, her undertone laced with disappointment. “I thought you wanted to try harder.”

Isabela’s eyes flickered up from the smudge, snorting once but she couldn’t help the sneer on her face as she looked to her. “I did. Nothing happened.”

“Isa…”

“No, Papa.” Isabela gave him a look at his interruption. “I did what I could… and nothing happened. I thought punishments were meant to lift… one or two at the least but nothing I did bared any weight to that in those first few months. Do you know how exhausting it is to wait and see when you can’t see the end? Do you have any idea how…isolating it is? The punishments that did lift wasn’t because of trust. All the friends I had abandoned me. No one wanted me… He did.”

Isabela was surprised she could feel the anger surface so quickly, turning her attention to the other person that had played a part in this. “Mama, you haven’t made the effort to hugged me, or kissed my cheek or anything for months!” She snapped jumping to her feet, surprising the three adults. “When I tried, you recoiled away from me. All I wanted that love and affection and I wasn’t getting that from any of you! So yeah, I sought it from someone else because I needed it.”

Abuela stood up sharply, “Isabela that’s enough!”

Isabela snapped her jaw shut though it took everything to not carry on as she glared at her grandmother.  

“Go to your room.”

She didn’t need to be told twice before she bolted but she barely got two steps before the familiar figure hurried into the dining room, looking disheveled before Isabela changed her direction and flung herself into Abuelita’s arms.

  Vera was furious.

Again, how much fury would her in-laws and family involve before things would remain calm, she didn’t know but she knew something was wrong by the look on Luisa’s face when the girl had entered her shop because Luisa rarely came into the shop alone.

Word of 'Isabela being caught with a boy', Vera knew the worst had been assumed and she had to control the damage that would no doubt follow suit. It took much longer than she’d have liked, but she had ended the work day early and sent the girls home with projects to finish at the least and had Ruben lock up the shop to get home.

The last thing she needed in December was an early close so close to the start of Novenas, now only two days away when they had a lot to do but…it had to happen. She’d not risk the life of her great-grandchild over a celebration or argument.

There was a relief to see Isabela run over to her, her cheeks tear-streaked but Vera rubbed her back in soft circles, feeling the girl’s body shake and her breathing ragged.

“Your Abuelito’s at home, go straight there and he’ll give you tea to calm down.” Which what exactly why she had pushed for Ruben to stay at home. Keep Isabela calm and the tea would send her off to sleep; calm her straight down and reduce the stress on the baby.

Isa nodded quickly and more or less ran out without a backward look, her hair down and acting like a curtain between her and the world.

Outside, it began to rain heavily but Vera paid it no need. Isabela would be fine.

“Mama—“

“Sit down” Vera’s patients were worn thin as Agustín rose to his feet though he recoiled from the tone of her choice. “Do not speak until I have because I am not happy about this.”

“Vera, Isabela broke one of the punishments we set out,” Alma spoke, her chin raised. “Just because you allowed it, doesn’t mean it’s a shared sentiment.”

“Tell me what happened, then I’ll judge from there.” Vera sat invited at the table, her head high.

“Isabela was caught in bed with the Marquez boy, half undressed. What she’s doing was enough to indicate her intentions.”

“Who caught her in bed?”

“I did.”

Vera’s eyes narrowed tightly at that because…of course Alma Madrigal of all people did. “You just…walked into someone else’s home to spy on your granddaughter, Alma?” She questioned. “You value privacy and yet you invade ours.”

“I think that’s stretching the truth a bit.” Alma shook her head confidently. “I did not spy on her and I was let in. There is a difference but I do think you’re looking at the wrong thing here.”

“I knew Señor Marquez was going to be at my home with Isabela,” Vera stated, satisfied seeing the look of surprise on the four faces. “Isabela told me this morning of it and I wouldn’t have been surprised at the need for clean bed sheets.” It filled her own requirements for Isabela’s actions to be discreet and safe. Nothing was more discreet than her own room.

“You knew?” Luisa’s voice echoed behind her, the now 20-year-old moved closer to the table, “I thought…” She stopped.

Vera turned her stern gaze over to Luisa. “Luisa, what did you do?” She asked carefully.

“She did the right thing.” Alma spoke up, “this should not have been a secret.”

Vera let out a frustrated sigh but she couldn’t help but mull on the implication of 'Doing the right thing', being let in—only her son and grandchild had a key to her home for emergencies, or if she needed them to pick something up or drop something off. An extension of trust because…she never thought any of her grandchildren would let someone in like that for that purpose.

“Did it not occur to you that Isabela and I are on good terms that we talk… and she trusted me to tell you of her relationship with that boy when she was ready for you to know.” Vera pressed. There was no mention of the baby so clearly, Isa hadn’t spilled about that. “She needed to talk to him and so what, if it’s against that particular rule, Alma? You’re the only one who seems to be hanging onto that and every fault she makes to justify your need to keep punishing her.”

“She’s not ready for a relationship.”

“That’s where you’re wrong, Alma.” Vera fired back. “You forced her into one, don’t you forget. Of course, that’s where you see her issues, right.”

“Mama!”

Vera held a hand up, silencing her son swiftly with the gesture. “I will talk to you later, Mijo. I’m already disappointed in you, don’t make it worse.” She turned back to Alma. “Isabela will not be punished for this and I think it’s best for her mental well-being, she does not return to Casita for the week.” She rose back to her feet. “I have a lot of work to do and more so because of this interruption.” Though she turned her attention to her middle granddaughter this time. “Luisa, where’s the key you used?” Her voice was soft, as mad as she was at Luisa, she wasn’t going to be overly harsh just yet but she needed the girl to know that this would not happen again.

Luisa’s eyes widened in alarm. “My key?” her hand came to her skirt.

“Si, show me,” Vera asked.

“Mama, what are you doing?”

She heard the scraping of the chair and her son rise from his seat but she solely focused on Luisa before the giantess glumly reached into her skirt pocket and pulled out the shiny, bronze key, and held it out uncertainly

“I will return this to you when I trust you to use it properly.” She plucked the key from her fingers and slipped it straight into her coat though patting Luisa’s arm softly as the girl’s eyes welled up. “I come by later, Agustín.”

And with that, she hurried away from Casita.

[creepykuroneko]

It always strikes me as odd when I'm having a conversation with another ADULT about sex and pregnancy comes up. To be specific the odd part in the conversation is when people complain they don't want kids, another kid, or act like conception is a 100% guaranteed outcome.

When I try to playfully remind people that contraceptives, abortion, and adoption are all valid options the conversation falls flat. In the USA newborn parents have the option to drop a baby who's less than a month old off at a fire department, hospital, or police stations, with no questions asked. They can straight up abandon a baby at these locations. To my knowledge fire departments even have a baby drop off box, and yet many Americans don't take advantage of these services.

Example 1: was talking with a co-worker who I'm very close to, she and I are the same age, and I was jokingly venting my sexual frustration because my husband and I ran out of condoms so we couldn't have a quickie before work. She give me a stern look and asked in all seriousness, why are you guys using condoms? Mind you she knows damn well that I do not ever want to have children. We've discussed that topic at great lengths. So I told her, because I like to have sex and I do not want to get pregnant. That ended the conversation right there.

Example 2: Friend was complaining about his teenage sons, how they keep talking back to him, and acting like they know everything. I told him it'll be okay there's less than 10 years till they're 18 and out of the house. His response was, "not unless I have more kids". I playfully reminded him there are different options to make sure that doesn't happen. He continued to complain about how much worse his life would be financially if he had more kids. I guess he was complaining just for the sake of complaining but at the same time I hope he would have enough sense to practice safe sex?

Example 3: Former coworker was telling me about how she was having an affair with a guy in her apartment. Please note I do not condone affairs. She was said that with the way things are going, he's going to end up getting both her and his wife pregnant. I reminded her that condoms and the morning after pill are always an option. She rolled her eyes at me and said, "I guess". I get it I can't tell other people what to do with their life. Yet the thought of people not taking the simplest measures to prevent something bad from happening really rubs me the wrong way.

Example 4: Another one of my friends who I love but does not always make good decisions in life has several children who she struggles to take care off. Don't get me wrong they are fed, well clothed, and go to school, but financially she is struggling, and she has a lot of Mental Health problems. She has this weird habit where when she is single she'll be on the pill or some other form of birth control but as soon as she starts dating a new man she immediately gets rid of all her contraceptives. Her excuse is, " they were making me sick". She was single for 3 years and was on the pill non-stop that entire time, but the moment she got a new boyfriend she immediately went off the pill a week later. 🤔 when I have asked her about making sure she doesn't get pregnant she says she uses the pull-out method which is not a good way to avoid pregnancy. She acts like getting pregnant when you're having sex in general is a inevitable side effect. Despite the fact that I know that she knows damn well how to avoid getting pregnant. Should talk about how she can't afford another baby but then when I try to talk to her about better contraceptives she shrugs it off like her fate is to continue to have babies.

These are just a few examples I have. There is no real point to this post I just felt like venting about something that bothers me. Please note, I am a polyamorous, bisexual, who has multiple sex partners. We always use condoms, we pay attention to menstrual cycles, and we take other measures to ensure safety first. So the thought of so many people not taking the most basic action to avoid and unwanted pregnancy just plain pisses me off. You live in a major city in the usa and you have a job! You have fucken options. Hell even many clinics will hand out free condoms these days Plus community colleges and universities.

[gruesomejack]

"How DARE you hit a young woman!"

Rabbit blinked and glanced out the window of the office door. Alex Prescott was sitting in one of the chairs seated outside, waiting for his turn to get yelled at for their lunchroom scuffle. And he certainly didn't look like a young woman. It was pretty common knowledge that he was transgender, but some of the kids and teachers didn't quite get that. Rabbit didn't really know why-- It was easy. He said he's a dude, so he's a dude. It pissed him off that they couldn't do that one thing for him.

"He's a boy!" Rabbit snipped and watched the man stiffen and grow uncomfortable.

"Listen, you can't go around throwing punches at the girls. Christine is-"

"Alex is a GUY. A DUDE." He was yelling now, and both the principal and vice principal were starting to step back. Getting heckled by a 6'5" eighteen year old in combat boots and smeared makeup wasn't exactly easy to go through. "You people are so- IGNORANT!" He barked, "And he fucking started it! Are you seriously telling me you can look at that greasy piece of shit out there and see a GIRL? He stinks, he's covered in acne, and he's wearing a Star Wars tee-shirt. That's NOT a girl!"

"Jonathan-"

"No! No! Go apologize to him! I might have kicked the shit out if him but at least I have enough human decency to treat him like a fucking man!" Wiping the blood from his nose, he sniffled.

"Christine is-"

Red flashed through the boy's eyes, his gaze growing just a little distant. Baring his teeth, he took in a brief breath and attempted to throw himself over the desk to strangle the bastard. The vice principal grabbed him in time and threw him on the ground. "One more strike, and you're out of here, Stone!" He yelled, "You'll be going to prison instead of walking at graduation!"

Rabbit growled, but let himself be pinned. He couldn't afford to go to jail. He needed to graduate and get the fuck out of the Bakers' house. Breathing heavy, he settled enough to get his earful and his suspension. Three days. God, he was fucked, but it could've been a lot worse.

When they were finished with him, they tossed him out with his slip for his parents to sign and slammed the door behind him. Rabbit glanced back and ground his teeth before cursing under his breath. Scratching his hand through his hair, he stared at the paper and crumpled it, shoving it down into his front pocket. He peeked up then, his cheeks warming as he met a grey gaze.

"Bastard." He breathed, "I'm suspended. I hope you're fucking proud."

@purposefully-lost

[storylocke]

Alolan Dusk 3

<THREE DAYS AGO…>

[A storm had been brewing over the course of the day, and the rain finally came pouring down with a surprising chill. Steam rises from the sun-heated pavement as it pelts hard enough to dissipate into a low fog.

Kukui didn't mind the rain normally, but tonight he can't shake the feeling he's not alone. He stops beneath the streetlight, scanning the area carefully for what lay out there in the empty Hau'oli streets. A soft glimmer of static catches his attention, appearing like a set of eyes before it vanishes into the night. As he tried to focus on it, a flash of lightning split the sky and betrayed the creature! A glint shows the outline of the metallic form as it fled. No creature he recognized, but a form that fit the description of something he had come to know all too well. He has to go after it!]

???:

Professor!!!

Kukui:

[Freezes and whips around to see where it came from. As the thunder rolls, he almost wonders if he imagined it. Tries to shield his eyes from the rain to get a better look but all he can see is someone with a flowing coat underneath an approaching umbrella] Hey! Who's there?!

???:

[comes into the frame of light and raises the umbrella to cover them both.] I'm so glad I managed to find you! You must forgive me, it's been a long time. [Smiles warmly] I was one of your former students and I had hoped-

Kukui:

[Flashes him a wide grin.] Ilima, it hasn't been THAT long! Just took me a moment, I hardly recognize you.

Ilima:

[Solemnly] Yes, well, a lot can change in a few years. [He gazes over the empty streets, how dark it is now with only a handful of lights still on among the buildings.] I'd hardly recognize Hau'oli City like this. It feels like a ghost town. 

Kukui:

Eh, not quite. Just given the pattern we've seen, we try not to do much after dark if we can. Why don't we head for my place, and we can talk more where it's dry? [claps him on the shoulder heartily as they share the umbrella] So what brings ya back here? I figured being part of the Interpol would have had you halfway across the world by now.

Ilima:

[Soft laugh as they start walking] I'm still just a fledgling as far as that goes. But, as they say, there's always that one case that hits just too close to home to let go. 

Kukui:

[Stops. Somewhat sternly] Ilima, I told you and Roark to back out of this after what happened to Hau.

Ilima:

[Also stops once he realizes his old mentor isn't following and looks back at him. States rather bluntly] Out of hunting, sir. But I'm in a new position now that has afforded me the resources to learn far more about this monster than you can.  

Kukui:

[Hmph. Hands at his waist as he stares him down.] Oh yeah? And how did that work out for the agents who were sent here before you? 

Ilima:

[Slightly taken back by his tone.] That's a bit cold of you. 

Kukui:

[Eases up a bit as he didn't mean to offend him.] Just the truth, good buddy. You said so yourself you're just a newbie, and so far this thing has been able to take out anyone from Team Skull to the Elite Four. I know you're a skilled Trainer. Fine. I know you're an adult. But I don't wanna hear that another one of my kids got hurt. Yeah? 

Ilima:

[Nods as that seemed more like the professor he knew.] Yeah. [As the lightning crosses the sky again, he gives a wary glance at the nearby rooftop where it appeared to strike. Probably just some Electric rodents. Could be… something else. Maybe Kukui had him all nervous now, but it seemed best to keep moving. Clears throat as he starts down the road again.] If it makes you feel any better, my mission here is simply to help in making arrangements. I've some grave news to deliver from headquarters. I just got through at Quips's place, and I ended up missing you at the lab. And I was honestly debating if I should try to get to Akala tonight or wait out the storm until morning. 

Kukui:

[Warmly] Well, I'm here now. What kind of bad news you got? 

Ilima:

[Listlessly gives the umbrella a twirl, shaking off the water as he thinks how to say it.] I'm not sure how aware of things you really are, but from an outside perspective, things are looking very grim. I have to ask… given that several people you've been close to have been taken by this madness, why do you continue to stay? 

Kukui:

[Wry amusement as it feels obvious.] Not everyone can afford to leave, Ilima. 

Ilima:

[Thoughtful] Of course not. But you can. Between you and your wife's positions, you're a lot better off than your humble living would suggest. 

Kukui:

Hey! Are you calling me cheap? [Smile fades to concern as Ilima isn't laughing. In fact, he seems half lost in his own worries right now.] Ilima. …I know things are pretty bad right now, but I've got a lot of people who look up to me and depend on me. I can't just up and leave them. [Sticks his hands in his pockets as they move at more of a stroll.] And Alola… I don't know, it means everything to me. More than just my home. Call it a duty, loyalty, [heh] an insanity, I like to travel but I don't think I'd have the heart to abandon her even at a time like this. 

Ilima:

[Tightens his grip on the handle as it feels wrong to ask.] Even if everyone else left?

Kukui:

…What do you mean?

Ilima:

We're being asked to evacuate. [Raises a hand as he can see the man about to protest] Not my call, but as you so delicately put it earlier, the situation is looking more and more dire. From a mere stats perspective, the business and tourism here is drying up. Outside help has only led to more casualties, and even if the number of humans-turned-monsters has dropped significantly, there's been an increase in wild Pokemon who've become Shadows. Which just shows that even if we were to say the Beast is slowing down, we don't know that. Wild Pokemon are harder to track, and their aggressive behavior is harder to determine if it's just territorial or deranged until a Trainer is injured. And… [shifts a bit uncomfortably] While it's entirely up to all of you, this is going to be the final offer. Once I leave, no one else is coming. Alola will be left to figure this out on its own. [He stops beneath a new streetlamp as he waits to see the professor's reaction.] The reason my superiors decided to send me was because they hoped the people of Alola would be more willing to listen to one of their own. Someone painfully aware of what they've gone through. 

Kukui:

[That's… a lot to take in. And while he would argue that it's not as bad as it may seem to those on the outside, it was hard to deny the fear overtaking their little islands. Some kids were forgoing the trials altogether now for safety concerns. Not only from this mind altering menace, but Ilima was right about there being more Shadows now than they could count. And not just kids, but the adults were getting scared too. Unable to counter him, his mind drifts back to the earlier comment.] There's still a lot of people here. How could we possibly move everyone even if they wanted to go? 

Ilima:

[Soft hum for thought. Not so much about the method as the enormity of the task.] We've been in touch with the Aether Foundation during much of the investigation as they seem to have a much clearer idea of what we're dealing with. And it's the very reason why they sailed that man-made island of theirs clear out of the region. Miss Lillie even admitted they half-hoped the monster, this "Necrozma" as they call it, would have followed them out when they did. And there's still some concerns about the danger they'll be in if they-

Kukui:

You're dodging the question. 

Ilima:

[He would argue it's all related, but the man has a point. Takes a deep breath.] Aether Paradise is a floating city. They're on their way back here, sailing with barely more than a skeleton crew to make room, and have promised to take anyone on board who has no means to get out otherwise. Given your history with the family, I'm sure you and Burnet would be more than welcome to come and help them. Not only with the people, but you two have some valuable knowledge and experience to help with their research as well. 

Kukui:

[Lillie… It was impossible to imagine what her and her brother had already been through, and already having so much responsibility. And now to attempt a stunt like this? She really was something. Just shakes his head.] 

Ilima:

[Uneasy at the long pause] Would you at least consider it?

Kukui:

Of course I'll help. It'd be ridiculous not to after all that. Sounds like you've got a lot on your shoulders too, yeah. [Leans down a little to peek at the young man hiding beneath the shade] Hey. [puts a hand on his shoulder again, this time more gently] It's gonna be okay. My offer still stands. Why don't we get to the lab, since we're already halfway there, and we can start making plans. 

Ilima:

Then you'll come?

Kukui:

[Straightens up] Not sure yet. But if they're leaving it up to you, there's no way we're letting you try to do this alone. Just like there's no way I'm letting you try to go sailing while the winds are up. Besides! It'll give us some time to catch up on other things.

Ilima: [True, he had actually half thought of just staying at his old house for the night before their meeting got him turned around. Casting a glance back, the road seems so long and dark to cross town alone on a night like this. Back to Kukui] Might as well.

~~~~~

A/N: Not much to say on this one. I will say it wasn't my idea that Ilima ended up joining the Interpol when he grew up, but it's pretty funny how there's even a hidden event in USUM where you find him playing detective after a Pokemon stole his stuff since the police are useless in the situation.

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