#Tell your story Marvel but fucking tell it respectfully

[drifting-pieces-blog-blog]

Age of Khonshu, or as I like to call it: Oh no. Oh no no no no.

Age of Khonshu, written by Jason Aaron. 2018.

Who is Jason Aaron? A big writer at Marvel, he is best known for PunisherMAX (the ultras violent and non-marvel universe version of the Punisher), some runs of Thor (the one where Jane Foster becomes Thor), and certain runs with Wolverine: Weapon X. He also wrote Southern Bastard, which is a big name over in Image comics.

Another important fact? He was raised Southern Baptist that has since become an atheist.

That history out of the way, let's look at the sort of comic this is.

I have been putting off reading this little doozy for YEARS. Why? Three reasons.

This was not a good year for me personally. In fact, this was the start of some REALLY bad years to follow for the next 4 years.

I missed the original release and when I tried to find it to read it, no one had it. Not even the library. (This should have been my first clue).

This is a Marvel tie in event.

Now, I have ranted about these before and I'm going to rant about it again.

What is a tie in event? It's a big Marvel World event that attempts to do a large story-line that involves a lot of other big names (usually the avengers).

In Events, you have the main story line that involves the main character. So say, DareDevil is fighting a super ninja. You have the main story that takes place in DareDevil's comic "DareDevil vs. the super ninja" and in that comic, it's such a big fight that the avengers have to get involved, and maybe Dr. Strange and perhaps Brother Voodoo is getting a movie next spring so they want to showcase Brother Voodoo working with familiar faces so he's involved now too.

BUT. All these people involved also have their own comics running. They don't just want to keep going and ignore this big ninja fight that's happening. So then we have side event tie ins that pause their normal story-line to respond in some way to the event that is happening.

So Let's say Ms. Marvel has her story line going where she's been fighting some evil mob boss. She's suddenly going to pause that story. She'll suddenly come up on a hole hoard of evil ninjas and have to fight them for a single issue. But they don't want to loose steam with her evil mob boss because they have to get back to that in the next issue! So it turns out her evil mob boss HIRED those ninjas in some sort of attempted partnership with the evil super ninja. Just to highlight how evil the mob boss is!

Oh, and if you haven't been reading DareDevil or the Avengers or ALL THE OTHER COMICS INVOLED good luck trying to keep up with what's going on. So by the end of the event, you have to compile a LOT of comics together in a particular order so that you can fully understand what's going on.

Even worse? Sometimes the responding tie in comics that aren't really involved with the main story line try to solve the issue. So, going back to my example, Ms. Marvel not only defeats the ninja gang, but she discovers something amazing that will in the end help defeat the Super Ninja! She has single handedly helped bring it down! …In her own comic. It makes her look like the big hero and like she was crucial to the event….When in truth, she has nothing to do withthe main story line over in DD world and her little discovery won't have anything to do at all with how to bring down the Super Ninja in the end.

With me so far?!

If this sounds familiar to you, then congratulations, you may have read "Moon Knight Shadowland", which was infinately better than the main story line of Dare Devil Shadowland. (I'm still bitter about that one). Or the original Civil War saga. Or Seige. Or Dark Reign. Or Age of Khonshu.

Today, I'm here to talk about Age of Khonshu.

In which Moon Knight gets his own special event under an Avenger's title.

So how did they compile this event under an Avenger's title? We start with something that makes no sense to someone that has not been following the Avenger's comics.

Stepping further into it? This event follows directly after the 2017 BEMIS run. So we are moving from the worst run in MK history into Aaron's Age of Khonshu. The next comic after this didn't come out till 2021! That's a three year gap!

What's the story?

Mephisto (I hate Mephisto. He has been made basically into Marvel's version of the Christian Devil.) is messing with the time line and is going back in time to amass soul contracts with people and is slowly taking over the world or destroying it or building up hell. It isn't ever properly explained, but most evil things like this usually aren't.

For some reason Khonshu has seen the future of a world where Mephisto has destroyed it and done terrible things. So he puts these images into Marc's head. Marc, thinking Khonshu is out to fuck with him again (when isn't he?) tracks down Khonshu in one of his Moon Cult temples.

Khonshu tells Marc that he's terrified of Mephisto and Marc realizes that Khonshu isn't just fucking with him this time.

So he teams up and decides to…STEAL ALL THE POWERS OF THE AVENGERS AND GIVE THEM TO KHONSHU.

That's right. As someone told me, it's like watching a ten year old talking about how their character is the most powerful and can beat up all the other characters.

Moon Knight beats up Dr. Strange with the power of Khonshu and steals his magic. Then he beats up Danny and steals the Iron fist. Then steals the GHOST RIDER'S fire of vengeance. He goes after Thor on the MOON. Turns out Thor's hamer is made out of moon rock so Moon Knight laughs as he steals the hammer because he has the power of moon. He goes after the Black Panter and T'challa is just like "LOL No. My power comes from my ancestors. You can't steal that."

So they lock up T'challa in a pyramid.

YOU KNOW WHAT MARVEL MOVIE WAS COMING OUT IN 2018?! That's right, the first Black Panther movie.

So in this comic, it's going to feature heavily that Black Panther is super powerful and the hero of the story.

Giving Khonshu all these powers, he remakes New York into Khonshu World and imprisons anyone that fails to worship him, because he's an all powerful god that will stop Mephisto.

And he does fight Mephisto and kill him, but there are so many versions of him now, because he's the devil and you can't kill the devil.

And throughout this, Moon Knight worships and prays to Khonshu, calling him his god and how he's a follower, and believes that Khonshu is a powerful god.

The Avengers keep asking him to stop, that he's off his meds or something and mentally ill and they can help him stop Mephisto if he stops Khonshu.

Eventually Moon Knight realizes that Khonshu can't stop Mephisto and he's gone too far.

He prays to a different god and THE PHOENIX fire shows up and he becomes Moon Knight Phoenix.

He betrays Khonshu because now he is his own god I guess? Helping them take Khonshu down, he gives back all their powers and they lock Khonshu away in Asgard.

Now he expells the Phoenix from his own self before he becomes Dark Moon Knight and destroys the world.

Now the Avengers story moves on to them dealing with Mephisto in a later run, but Khonshu is defeated and that's the important part!

T'challa offers Moon Knight a place in the Avengers, rather than a jail cell in Wakanda for his crimes. Moon Knight turns him down and returns to a small part in Manhattan that he'd rather protect.

And that's how it ends.

Aside from the main story aspect of this particular volume of MK avengers, here are the MAJOR problems:

Throughout the entire run, there is HEAVY christian imagery and language.

They talk about the devil and how scary the devil is. They talk about Hell. They talk about angels. They talk about gods.

They especially show Moon Knight worshiping and PRAYING to Khonshu or Phoenix.

Moon Knight himself discusses fighting the Devil and going to Hell as a construct of the horrors he has seen and done.

2. Throughout the run, Aaron tries to pull out bits from Lemire. Referencing him and doing callbacks. It falls SO flat.

There is a scene early on where he does the "I am Marc Spector. I am Steven Grant. I am Jake Lockley. And we are Moon Knight" bit. But it's followed by a prayer to Khonshu because he is the Moon God's accolyte.

Later he talks about how Marc expelled Khonshu from his mind and had healed and was his own man again. He talks about how Khonshu had put horrors in his mind that made him ill.

He then talks about how he frequents a certain mental hospital.

Not only is he referencing Lemire, but he's taking it in the wrong context. This man read it and went "Yeah sure I got it" when he clearly didn't.

In Lemire's run, we see Marc dealing not just with how KHonshu used and abused him and how messed up he was, but we also see him coming to terms with his own mental illness and trying to understand himself. To understand that he himself had been abusive towards himself. His self harm attributes. His pushing people away. We see him learn to embrace the 'what if' aspect of after mental illness. We see doubt and we see room to heal.

In this it's just "Khonshu did it."

3. We're back to the mental health topic. While they DO acknowledge Steven and Jake twice, offhandedly, we don't see them. It's just MARC. And I find it hard to believe that either of them would either let Marc go this far off the rails to hurting his friends, but that they would go along with it without having a discussion or working as a team if they found it to be the only solution.

They also have NUMEROUS remarks from the others about "We all know Moon Knight is crazy but I didn't think he was this crazy". It carries on the old conversations that everyone in the Avengers and so on all see Moon Knight as mentaly unwell. Unfit. Crippled, even. He's not well enough to do things. He pretends to be a hero but we all know he's likely to melt down any minute and do something crazy, attitude.

And repeatedly he's told to take meds, go to the hospital, check himself in… Even T'Challa tells him "Wakanda has made great strides in Mental Health. We can cure you!"

Cure him from what? Trauma? Take away his DID? Or implying that he's some sort of other unwell causing him to not think straight?

It's these three things combined that just really set me off.

The absolutely disgusting use of Christian vocabulary and idealism to portray a Jewish character. Even if Marc isn't observant of Jewish beliefs, he is culturally Jewish and raised by a Rabbi. Unless he blatantly converted, he would not find himself worshiping and praying to another god. He wouldn't believe in the devil or use such language to describe Mephisto. He wouldn't talk about Angelic idealations or even Hell.

Then the blatant use of his mental illness to further how it's easy for Moon Knight to fall into such ways. Of course he did this. He's crazy. He'll do anything!

Of course he made his god Khonshu into an over powered dick.

I've discussed this before with a good friend, but there is a difference between following Khonshu and worshiping Khonshu.

I love the use of Yehya Badr to show this in MacKay's run. One has converted and religiously believes and follows Khonshu. The other follows a path that he himself set down as a result of his experiences and own needs.

Moon Knight never outright worships Khonshu (when properly written). Even in Moench's old run, he believed that he had been resurrected by Khonshu and therefore his power and life was in Khonshu's hands. This was more following Marc's thinking that he himself was nothing more than a ghost. Without Khonshu, it was more of an existential dread that he was nothing. Not that Khonshu was a god figure.

In later runs this translated into a sort of worship and it never should have. In Moench's run, Khonshu was some unknown force. Perhaps a god, perhaps a spirit, perhaps some form of something ancient that represents the moon and protecting those who travel by night. Considering the Marvel universe and such loose terms of applying all powerful beings under the phrase of 'god', it makes sense. Thor is technically a god. But he is not a god to be worshiped.

Moon Knight takes his own Jewish upbringing. He is here to cherish all life. To protect those who fall into the margins and cry for help.

What's most insulting is that this comic directly followed the run by Bemis. The one that was so laced with antisemitism and blatant disregard for mental health topics.... So we jump from blood libel and Nazism into fighting the actual Devil and praying to gods and worship.

This is not a good look, Marvel.

Here's the thing, we need a Jewish writer.

I don't mean someone that was formerly Jewish that converted to some other following. I don't mean an atheist that has a special interest in other religions (as Aaron claims he is). We need a born and raised practicing Jewish writer.

We need someone to use the proper terminology that isn't Christian based. We need Jake to speak more Yiddish. We need Steven to be seen putting money into the Tzedakah box. We need Marc to discuss his conflict with his Orthodox Rabbi father and his current path in life and how, like it or not, he has become the epitome of the Jewish struggle to exist.

I appreciate Mr. MacKay, but when his run is done and Marvel looks for the next Moon Knight writer, I'd really like to see a Jewish voice step in and not only respect their own people (despite what Marvel may tell them to do) but to also continue to represent and respect the mental health aspect of Moon Knight.

Maybe I'm asking too much? But this issue...

TLDR: Do not read Bendis, Bemis, and Aaron when it comes to Moon Knight.

[ptergwen]

from one kid to another

w/c: 6.0k

warnings: mentions of drinking, lots of swearing, implied smut, and angst at times

summary: it was a mistake, a beautiful one that you didn’t make on your own

a/n: this genuinely is my favorite thing i’ve ever written :,) i say that a lot but this time i mean it, it’s really special i think and i so so so hope y’all do too <3 enjoy my loves

-

there’s only one thing in life that testing positive for is actually positive.

depending on the situation, obviously. yours isn’t ideal, or planned or a blessing or whatever people say. it’s a gigantic mistake that you didn’t realize you made until a minute ago.

you’d noticed something was wrong when your time of the month came and all you experienced was the symptoms. cramps, cravings, everything except your actual period. as everyone is pretty much taught to do, you ran to the closest drug store for a pregnancy test. what the hell else could it be? you messed around a few weeks ago, so there’s a possibility.

your heart felt like it was going to explode out of your chest the whole time you waited for the results. you’d thought of calling tom over for support, but there are a couple of reasons why you couldn’t do that. you realized you made the right decision when your timer for the test went off.

two red lines. you’re pregnant. you’re pregnant, and your best fucking friend is the father.

where do you go from here?

the test falls from your hand and hits the floor with a mocking clank. you slide down until your back is against the bathtub. well, you’re fucked. what an ironic word choice.

the fact that you aren’t ready in the slightest to be a parent when you’re still growing up yourself is one thing. it’s another that this could ruin the most important relationship you’ve ever had.

no, tom won’t be mad. he’s never once fought with or even raised his voice at you. in your times of need, he’s been the one to uplift you and kiss your puffy cheeks dry. no matter how he takes this, you know it won’t be out on you. he is half responsible.

but, with how you left things the last time you spoke, you’re not sure you’ll be able to get past it.

tom is alarmingly good at hiding how he truly feels. you always tease him that it’s because he’s a gemini. he’ll come back with shut up, i’m an actor and stick his nose in the air to give you the full image. in all seriousness, it does take a toll on how well he can communicate.

you’ve seen it in small ways, like when he brings you along for press days and uses unenthusiastic smiles to cover up his yawns. how he’ll be polite in a conversation with people he’d rather not speak to, then mumble about it once you’re home. he tries to put forward the “appealing” parts of himself even though he’s more than them.

tom’s biggest communication issue is that he’s been in love with you since year nine and hasn’t said a word about it. you’ve yet to figure that one out.

you two became friends while tom was starring in billy elliot. his schedule was so scattered between shows and school, so he struggled to balance both. he often had to stay late for extra help on the lessons. you’d also been there a few times. you worked better in the classroom, and he was grateful he didn’t have to be alone with the teacher.

most kids made fun of tom for his interest in theater, to his face and behind his back. not you. you thought it was just incredible that someone in your own classes worked at the west end. you’d told him on your way home one night.

he’d heard you before he saw you. “you’re tom, right?” you asked from behind him, the two of you making your way through the hall. the question sounded friendly, and it wasn’t every day kids were nice to him. tom stopped walking so you could catch up. “yes, and you are?” you gave him a small smile, books clutched to your chest. he instantly returned it.

“y/n. i heard you’re in billy elliot?” you laughed at your understatement, then corrected yourself. “that you are billy elliot, i mean. that’s so cool.” “oh, i am. thank you,” he chuckled back, a full grin taking over his face. you were both walking again, you by tom’s side. “i was hoping to come see you soon.” your voice got quieter as you told him, like you were nervous.

tom never had much luck with girls, not at this point in his life. this was an opportunity to change that. at the very least, to make a new friend. he offered something you said yes to without a beat of hesitation. “what if i got you the tickets?”

from then on, you began talking during class and not only when it ended. tom really knew how to keep the conversation going, telling story after story that left you laughing so much your teacher would shush you. you’d eventually moved to hangouts at either of your houses. harrison came into the mix at some point, the three of you forming your own group.

the difference between tom and harrison was that while harrison linked with other girls, tom was only interested in you. he’d gotten a crush on you pretty fast, if he was being honest. it might have been your shared sense of humor or the way you said his name.

thomas, when he was being cheeky. tommy, which took the place of a pet name. even regular tom. that might have been his favorite. he loved how it rolled off your tongue. he loved, and still loves, you.

you’d gone to all of tom’s performances you possibly could, the ones for school theater included. you also gave him the push to take his talents to hollywood. tom was afraid he wasn’t cut out for the big screen, that he needed more practice and experience first. you told him that if this was what he wanted to do, he had to start somewhere. why wait?

tom then landed his first movie role in the impossible at the age of fifteen. he’d received tons of praise and almost gotten nominated for an academy award, all because you convinced him to audition. you played a huge part in keeping him grounded when he was between films, and caught him up on whatever schoolwork he’d missed.

you practically zoomed to tom’s house when he was announced as the next spider-man. you’d been constantly refreshing every social media platform marvel was on since tom became a finalist for the part. that process was probably the most difficult experience he’s ever gone through. you’d know, having heard all about it from tom.

the two of you celebrated along with the rest of tom’s family that night. you kept giving him little proud of you squeezes on his shoulder or knee. tom is eternally indebted to you for being the most supportive of everything he does.

he of course sends the support right back. although he went down the movie star path, acting wasn’t for you. you’d gone off to university and studied hard as hell and aced all your shit. tom quizzed you on material whenever you needed. he wanted to help you somehow, and this was all you’d let him do.

he’d offered to pay off your loans and any other expenses necessary because he had the money to do that now. you refused every single time, not trying to become dependent on him. he admired your drive, yet hated it at the same time. everything you’d done for him, it was his turn to be the caretaker. it should’ve been.

whenever tom wrapped filming for the holidays and came back home, you were always preparing for final exams. he kept you company, content with simply being in your presence. you typed away on your keyboard and read over notes until your eyes burned. tom occasionally brought you snacks, tea, asked how you were and what he could do.

sometimes, he would have to cut your study time short. he’d say it wasn’t healthy or you were overdoing it and to come relax with him for a bit. other times, tom let you be. he didn’t want to get in the way of your already stressful assignments. those were the nights you’d fall asleep in front of your laptop. drool on your chin, hunched over at your desk.

tom made sure to tuck you in, press a light kiss to whatever part of your face wasn’t covered in spit, then let himself out. he knew where your spare key was, so he used that. you’d wake up to a “Fell asleep studying again. Rest today x” text the next morning.

when it came time for you to graduate, tom was on the first flight there. it was during another round of reshoots for chaos walking. he respectfully told doug that he’d have to work around his schedule or replace him, which couldn’t be done so late into filming. tom didn’t care that it made him seem like a prick. he was getting to you no matter what he had to do.

he’d earned plenty of stares and whispers from people as he took his seat in the crowd. he was a proper celebrity now, so he expected it. his solution was to ignore everything and chat with your family about how proud they were of you, tom the most. he saw you go from a kid attempting algebra equations to an adult at her uni graduation. you’ve really grown up together.

it was why he teared up hearing them call your name, seeing you beam as you walked across the stage. your mom grabbed his hand and nodded at him, like she could tell exactly what was going through his head.

you ran right up to tom after the ceremony was over, leaping into his arms. he let out a couple of chuckles as he spun you around. “i didn’t think you’d make it,” you’d admitted, happy yet sad tears in your eyes. tom put you down so he could pull you in for a real hug. “i’ll always be wherever you are, y/n,” he said into your ear, rocking you while you gripped at his suit collar.

flash forward to a year later, your career is finally taking off, tom’s is flourishing like it has been for years, and you’re pregnant with his child. you’re trying to recall the series of events that led you to this moment.

you were both drunk, blackout drunk because the only reason you remember sleeping together is that you woke up naked in the same bed. harrison’s bed.

he threw a housewarming party for himself, having recently moved out of tom’s and the other boys’ place. the three of them, sam, and you were all in attendance, along with a lot of others you hadn’t met.

neither you nor tom could figure out where he knew all those people from. he’d clinged to you two for the most part, more so you now with tom usually away. they could have been from work. harrison is breaking into the business himself, small roles here and there. tom actually met him in your school’s theater program, then he introduced him to you, ten years ago already.

sam entertained himself by making concoctions with the snacks harrison set out. harry got together a playlist for the party. harrison and tuwaine struck up a conversation with some of harrison’s actor friends. that left you and tom alone, out of stuff to do, and with one way to fix it.

“drink?” tom had asked you, a smirk playing on his lips. “love one,” you hummed back and set off for the kitchen. the two of you raided harrison’s liquor cabinet, grabbing his biggest bottle of wine. he’d dumbly pointed it out during the house tour he gave you before the other guests arrived.

you were about to search for glasses, but tom’s fingers threaded through yours. he gently tugged you away and nodded behind him. “let’s bring this upstairs. seems much more fun there,” he’d murmured over the music, a grin breaking across your face.

tom is big on clubbing and socializing, however, you aren’t. he comes up with ways to get you out of these events, just in case.

“we can break in harrison’s bed for him,” you said as a completely harmless joke, no intentions of that becoming your reality later on. spoiler alert: it did. “and how are we gonna do that?” tom quirked a suggestive eyebrow and breathed out a laugh as you dragged him towards the stairs. despite yourself, you’d giggled at his words.

not one drink in either of you yet, and you were stumbling and cracking up as you ran upstairs. you’d pulled tom by your still attached hands into what you remembered as harrison’s room. tom shut the door, locked it, saying under his breath that would be a “convenient investment” for him to make as well.

he took out a bottle opener that he must have put in his pocket at some point and got to work on your wine, you getting comfortable on the new mattress. the two of you passed it to the other after every sip, tom licking the taste of your lip gloss off his own lips every so often.

the equivalent of three drinks in, you were making out. both of you were just tipsy at this point, tom holding you by your hips as you lied down, your legs around his waist. god, he could’ve done this sober. he’d dreamed about kissing you, really kissing you since he was fourteen. you’d always felt like you two had something more. ah, there it was.

halfway through the bottle got you past the next two bases, and you were ready for the fourth and ultimate one by the time you shook the last few drops onto the tip of your tongue. tom groaned at the sight of that, drawing your half naked body in closer to his.

you two had forgotten to use protection in each of your drunken states. without a doubt, you both would’ve agreed to a condom had your minds not been everywhere but where they should have.

you’d woken up first the morning after, panic immediately coursing through your veins thicker than blood. a fully nude and sleeping tom had you in his embrace, arms secured around your middle, facing you. you gasped when you made the connection, loudly enough to wake tom up. his long eyelashes tickled your face, a confused pout on his lips. uh... um...

“did we fucking...” you trailed off, no words to describe whatever unfolded. “fuck?” tom finished for you. a very blunt explanation, but true nevertheless. “looks like it,” he rasped, pout changing into a smile. your face fell at the vague memories of how you spent your night.

you definitely wanted to do it. just, he’s your best friend, who’s seen you at your least sexy moments over the years. when you were sick, had breakdowns from stress, you name literally anything, tom was there. it took one bottle of cheap wine for him to forget that?

the real answer was no. tom is entirely in love with you, for a decade at that. you were beginning to discover you feel the same, only you had no idea he already loves you. you’d assumed this was meant to be merely a hookup. from the frown your face held, he’d thought you were regretting it. oh, were you both so wrong.

“um... we don’t have to talk about it,” tom told you halfheartedly, under the impression that’s what you preferred. you physically felt yourself get weaker in tom’s strong arms. he’s not interested. “yeah, that’s probably for the best. i...” you were lying. his heart shrunk, shriveled up inside his chest. she doesn’t love me like that.

“you have to go. aren’t you behind on some emails?” tom hoped you didn’t hear his voice strain from the tears pushing at his eyes. “right. almost forgot, thanks.” you’d plastered on a smile, slipping out of his grasp. a tear rolled down his cheek, so he wiped it away before you noticed. you’d already gotten out of the bed and begun picking your clothes up off the floor.

“i’ll drive you home, then.” he rolled on to his other side, you thought so he could give you privacy to change. it was that, and also because he was crying. he couldn’t hold it in. tom is naturally an emotional person. imagine finding out the love you’ve had almost half your life is unreciprocated. it’s soul crushing.

you two found harrison snoring and on top of tuwaine as you left the house. no silly remarks or shared glances for the first time in ten years. tom couldn’t muster anything up, and you felt numb.

the drive was painful. you’d said your goodbyes after tom pulled up to the curb, which held an odd weight to them. once you were out of the car, a sob wracked through him, banging on the steering wheel and not giving a shit about the loud horn going off. you collapsed face first onto your bed. hours passed by while you stared at nothing and contemplated everything.

since it happened, you haven’t spoken much. small talk over text every few days or so, both of you pretending things are normal for the other’s sake. about a month later, today, is when you found out you’re pregnant.

there’s no use wallowing in any of this. you need to figure out your next move, one that should probably involve tom. first, you want to talk to someone else. you want other opinions and a voice in your head that isn’t your own. harrison gets a text from you saying to come over now, the now in all caps. he does.

you let him in after the second knock, his eyebrows furrowing in concern. however torn you are, you must look it. shirt balled in your fists, lip quivering. he keeps his eyes on yours as he steps inside, pushing the door shut behind him. this is all becoming too real. “y/n, are you okay?”

you’re about to cry in three, two...

“haz, i fucked up,” you choke out, tears unable to stay at bay. he takes you into his arms for a hug. half your face is hidden in his shoulder, hands clutching at his back. he lets you cry it out, holding you until your heavy breathing steadies. “what’s happened?” harrison asks quietly, both of you leaving the hug.

“if- if i tell you, you can’t freak out. you can’t tell anyone else, either,” you instruct, searching his eyes for certainty that he won’t under any circumstances. “i won’t, y/n/n,” he assures you and puts an encouraging hand on your arm. your heart pounding abnormally fast, you spit it out. your first time saying it aloud. “i’m pregnant.”

harrison flinches and doesn’t even try to conceal it. he takes his hand off of you, worry swimming across his features. he blinks at you, unsure of what to say. you’d react the same way, maybe worse, so you don’t blame him. a discussion you, him, and tom had a couple years back replays in his mind.

the three of you were talking about your futures, seeing as you were close to living them. when tom asked you two where you stood on having your own families, you didn’t hesitate to answer. “nope, the factory is closed for a long ass time.” until you were in your thirties, you aimed to focus on yourself. harrison distinctly remembered because of how you phrased it.

“you’re... you... wow,” is all he replies with. you head over to the couch, more tears welling up in your eyes. do the pregnancy hormones act up this early? harrison follows you over and sits down next to you with an awkward clearing of his throat. “do you want to be pregnant?” he has to ask because he’s not sure if he should congratulate you or what.

“i don’t know,” you answer honestly, voice airy. your eyes are fixed on the wall in front of you. you haven’t given yourself time to think about it. there are so many reasons you don’t, and a single one you do. “do you, um, know who the dad is?” harrison glances over at you. “yeah.” your voice cracks. you’re both afraid for him to ask what he does next.

he shifts so he’s sitting up. “can i know?” a sniffle passing through you, you finally look at him. “it’s tom,” you say it before you lose the nerve to. harrison’s face doesn’t change this time. he isn’t surprised you and tom went there. he’d seen your friendship growing into more the older you all got. what he can’t believe is where it took you.

his best friend pregnant, and his other best friend responsible for it.

“when did you...” “at your party,” you explain, bringing your legs up so they’re criss cross on the couch. “i thought you were gone a little too long.” he says that to try cheering you up. you appreciate the effort, but it doesn’t work. you’re not in a joking mood. he’ll stick to the main issue. “so, have you told him?”

“clearly not,” you scoff, not at him but at what you two have gotten yourselves into. “y/n... i think you should tell him,” harrison sighs out, then adds, “whether you keep it or not.” “why? that would ruin everything, it already has.” you’re getting angry now, which plunges you into angry crying, voice unsteady as you go on.

“the last time i saw tom was that night, and i guess it meant more to me than it did to him because we haven’t talked about it at all. he didn’t want to.” you swipe the back of your hand across your eyes, gaze stern compared to harrison’s soft one.

he drapes an arm around your shoulders, you curling into him with another sniffle. he doesn’t say anything for a minute, then he tries again. “i know you, y/n, and i know tom. you’ll kill yourselves not talking about this.” he’s right, no shit he is. avoiding telling tom how you feel, and your pregnancy on top of that, it’s eating you up inside. it’s swallowing you whole.

“what if he doesn’t want to be a dad? or- or i’m a shit mum?” you croak out, your doubts getting the best of you. “i can barely take care of myself. what am i supposed to do with a baby?” you’re leaning forward with your hands pressing into your temples. harrison’s hand moves to your upper back. “i- i don’t think i should have them. i... we can’t,” you conclude.

“tom loves kids,” he gives you a gentle reminder. “why would his own be the exception?” another good point, yet you still have rebuttles. “right, he’s a godfather and he’s really good with them and all that, but i’m not the right person, and it’s a terrible time,” you tell him all at once, in a rush to get your words out before harrison’s sway you.

“he’s never around, i’m doing my own stuff. we’re not meant for this.” you lift your head out of your hands and sit back on the couch. harrison returns his hands to his lap. he’s frowning at you, which you see from the corner of your eye. “i’m not going to force you to have the baby. just saying you have options.”

yeah, really shitty ones.

“either way, talk to tom.” harrison says this more like a demand so you’ll take his advice into actual consideration. “at least about the hookup.” your teeth sink into your lower lip, eyes watering for the nth time already.

you have no choice because he’s right again. you’ll never move on from what happened unless you and tom address it.

the next morning, you do what harrison told you to and invite tom over. he replied saying he was on his way maybe a minute later. he’s nervous to see you because yeah, but more so looking forward since it’s been so long. you’re so nauseous you barely have room for nerves. it’s morning sickness with a hint anxiety.

it feels almost normal when he first gets here, no how’ve you been and what are you up to these days? being as close as you and tom are, you’re not capable of such a dry conversation. personally, you still feel uneasy while he recounts a golfing incident him and harry got into the other day. you know something he doesn’t.

“when i tell you we flew, we flew,” tom makes a pushing forward motion with both hands. “right into the tree. i think harry, like, dented part of his face.” he lets out a breathy laugh, you forcing out one of your own. you’d be more interested without the fact that you’re expecting a child, his child, at the back of your mind.

tom exhales, shifting to face you on your couch. it’s funny how different things were when you and harrison sat in these same spots yesterday. so much has and is about to change.

“they had to send another golf cart to come get us. it was wild.” “it sounds wild,” you hollowly agree. he can tell you’re not too invested in hearing about harry’s terrible driving skills, so he changes the subject. “anyway, harrison told me he came over last night?” your stomach drops, heat coming over your whole body.

“did... did he say why?” you murmur with a look of urgency in your eyes. tom shrugs a shoulder, and casually. there’s no way he knows. “no, was he supposed to?” his tone stays playful, which you can thankfully tell. that puts you more at ease. “no. no, never mind. i would’ve asked you to come, but...” you’re searching through your catalog of excuses.

thank god tom says something else because you can’t find a good one. “it’s alright. i actually, um, had a work call.” a small smile spreads across his face, a proud one. intrigued, you raise both eyebrows. “what’d you talk about?” tom twiddles with his fingers in his lap. “i’ve been offered an audition for this really amazing film. everything works out, it’ll be huge for me.”

you’re smiling back this time, putting a hand over one of his. “woah, that’s incredible. i’m so happy for you, tom.” you lock your fingers with his from the back of his hand. he looks down at them, humbly shaking his head. “when is it?” “a few weeks from today. it films in brazil...”

oh. you can’t tell him now. it’s not worth him missing out on a milestone in his career for a baby you’re not sure you should have. that would be so unfair of you to ask. what are you going to do, not support his dreams for the first time in a literal decade? and, you’d call yourself his best friend through it all?

you guess this also means the way you feel about tom is one sided. he’s okay with leaving you after the most intimate moment you two have ever shared. you’ll dance around it the rest of your lives. better yet, act like the night never even happened. that’s not so easy to do when you’ve got a permanent reminder of it.

the thought makes you sick to your stomach. so sick, you could...

while tom is talking more about what the audition entails, you suddenly bolt up from the couch. you run for the bathroom, a hand cupped over your mouth. his face twists up in confusion from your disappearance. tom calls, “y/n/n?” out to you, but you can’t respond because your head is in the toilet. he rushes in when he hears you retching.

he gets onto the floor with you. you’re bent over, puking your guts out, back in another place where your life changed forever less than twenty four hours ago. tom pulls your hair out of your face and into a makeshift ponytail with one hand, his other on your back. that’s all you have in you. you stay over the toilet just to be sure.

saliva drips from your mouth, making you cough roughly, the sound echoing. tom moves so he’s next to you, keeping his hand in your hair and not caring one bit about the smell because he loves you and he’s utterly concerned about what he witnessed.

“love, are you sick?” he coos, searching for your eyes. they water from the intensity of everything. “morning sickness,” you answer without thinking first. shit. shit, shit, shit. it came out of you like more vomit, word vomit. there’s no going back now.

tom lets go of your hair with his eyes still on yours. his hand on your back then leaves you, fingers trailing down your body as they go. “morning sickness,” he repeats, putting it together. “you’re pregnant?” guilt taking over your features, you sit across from tom. you’re once again leaning against the bathtub, him against the counter.

“this isn’t how i wanted you to find out,” you admit and bring your knees up to your chest. “i took a test yesterday. it was positive.” your arms wrap around your legs, you now tearing up because tom figured it out. a shaky breath passes his lips. “i haven’t gone to my doctor or anything yet, but i-“

“are you keeping the baby?” tom cuts in. not to judge you for your choice, to find out what the fuck is going on before he travels across the world. you tighten your arms around yourself, grabbing your wrist. “i haven’t decided.” he gives you an understanding nod and reaches out for you. you dodge him. he might not want to do that after what you say next.

“tom, i... there’s more,” you whimper out. “yeah. i’m... i’m listening,” tom croaks, unable to hold in his infinite amount of emotions for a multitude of reasons. he’s losing you a second time. more tears spill from your eyes as you break the news, the news that will destroy what he’s been working towards his entire life.

“the baby is yours.” his face relaxes, looking almost relieved when you confess it. “when we slept together, uh,” you’re sure it’s obvious enough that you don’t have to go over the details. he’s tearing up himself. you reluctantly continue. “if you still want to audition, i get it. we don’t have to do this.”

“fuck the audition. fuck the whole movie. all of my movies, really,” tom surprises you by blurting out. he moves in until your legs are touching. “i’m staying. even if you don’t have the baby, i have to be here.” you watch in disbelief as he wipes away what are actually happy tears. “really? i was scared you’d resent me for it, or hate me even,” you mumble to him.

“y/n, what? why would i ever do that?” tom places a hand on your cheek, touch gentle and filled with love. you part your legs so he can be closer to you. he takes the space between them, thumb brushing over your skin. “i didn’t think you’d want to deal with all of this. i thought that night was only a hookup for you.” your voice wobbles under his gaze.

“no, are you kidding? i thought that’s what you thought.” he’s smiling now, eyes twinkling along with it. what he’s been meaning to tell you since you were only kids finally comes out. “i’ve loved you as long as i’ve known you, y/n. i always imagined myself doing this with you.” his words draw a quiet laugh from you, a happy one. “i know we were drunk, but i meant it all.”

the sincerity in his voice, the warmth in his eyes, they make you cry all over again. you’re getting used to it.

“i love you, tom,” you lean into him with a sniffle and a grin, his forehead now resting on yours, using his thumb to catch one of your tears. “i really do.” “i love you forever. i always have,” tom speaks lowly, breath fanning across your face. your hands grab at his shoulders. “so, you’ll stay? you’ll do this with me?” he reminds you of what he said before, this time a promise.

“forever.”

-

you ended up having the baby, and tom held your hand through the entire labor. nikki was holding his other hand, your mom holding your other hand. harrison had originally been in the room as well. when you started to push, he got freaked out and had to leave. your support system remained strong either way.

despite his repulsion of your daughter’s birth, you and tom decided to make harrison her godfather. he eventually became the godfather of your other two children also, which you had a few years later.

tom took a paternity leave from the industry so he could be with you and jamie. he’d also used his time off to propose to you, something else he fantasized about since year eleven in school. it wasn’t anything too grand because the whole world was already buzzing about you two, and a big gesture felt too impersonal with everything you’d been through together.

he did it in the form of passing a note, something you often did in class to avoid being scolded by your teacher for talking. the note came with a pencil to check off either the yes or no box, “will you marry me?” written above them. anyone else would have found it so unromantic, but you giggled as you checked off yes before your lips crashed into his smiling ones.

you were married shortly after the proposal, jamie as your flower girl and all your friends and family in attendance.

to do what he loved and stay with the people he loved, tom created his own version of hollywood in london. he took it upon himself to assemble a team and make a production company. harry behind the camera, harrison and tuwaine in the films, and tom either starring alongside them or directing. they give so many young actors tons of opportunities.

you eventually went back to work, too. it was like you’d never left, coworkers offering endless hugs and going over what you missed, not that you struggled getting into it. tom was there to celebrate every promotion, every compliment from your boss, every part of your life. jamie was also there, then liam and lucy.

all three of them are running around the house right now, putting on shoes and collecting their supplies for school. you take a sip of the orange juice liam didn’t finish with a lighthearted eye roll. tom chuckles as he passes you in the kitchen, getting the kids’ lunchboxes for them to minimize the chaos.

“you have that pitch meeting today, right?” he slips his hands through the lunchbox handles and walks over to you. “mhm,” you hum, mouth full with juice. his lips press to your temple, giving your waist a one handed squeeze. “you’ll smash it. always do.” “thanks, tommy.” putting down the cup, you reach up to button whatever parts of his shirt he didn’t have time to.

“aren’t you doing a casting? for the new script they sent?” you wonder aloud and smooth down the cotton material. “me and harry. should be interesting,” he remarks, you giving him a quick kiss back on his chin. they tend to have their artistic differences. “good luck with that. you do drop off, i’ll do pick up?” you pat one of the lunchboxes around his arms.

“deal.” tom goes in for a kiss on your lips, then a chorus of dad, we have to go led by jamie rings through the house. with a knowing smile, you push at his chest. “see you later. love you.” “love you, holland,” he bites back a grin of his own. his last name, now yours, suits you perfectly.

[farmnap]

Story of your relationship (from his POV)

Hey!!!!! Sorry for the inactivity, school crap. Also thank you so much for the followers!!!!!

TW:Slight NSFW but there is a warning before and after

When Dream invited Sapnap into a call with him and this other friend he was quite nervous

Dream had mentioned you to him before but nothing was like actually talking to you, even if it was on discord

Dream knew about your feelings for his childhood friend, so he went into “matchmaker mode”

Sapnap was very awkward when y’all first “met”, being quiet and stuttering through conversations

“Hey Sap, did you see the trailer for the Marvel movie?”

“yeah.. It looks good.”

“what’d you say? Sorry you’re mic is really quiet”

Dream shipping you guys after seeing the energy and how you made Sapnap blush and flustered

After the call ends he teases Sapnap relentlessly

“Someone has a crushhhhh!” Dreams says, giggling

“dude- stop.” sapnap covers his face to hide the redness

He’s somehow convinced by Dream to dm you on discord 

It would probably take a while for you guys to actually date, your relationship mostly consisting of friendly jokes and teasing

Sapnap’s crush was getting worse and worse and the boys (Karl, Dream, George, and Bad) Have to basically yell at him to bring up his feelings to you

“What if they stop talking to me!” Sapnap whines, emotions all over the place.

“Aww, Sap... They’re crazy if the don’t like you.” Bad says sweetly, but Sap just groans, you would never feel the same

Thankfully he gives in and sends you a message

“I like you a lot like more than friends please don’t hate me”

It was one of those times where you hit send message and throw your phone down, regretting the text

When you sent a message back, asking to call, his heart started beating so fast, like he thought he was dying

Of course the call went well, both of you giving into your feelings for one another

Of course he immediately texts the boys and they all fanboy over the ship

Your and Sapnap’s relationship is very much one that's very flirty on your part and he gets all flustered. At least at first it’s like that but after about 3 months, he’s the one whos all cocky and confident

I guess having a hot af S/O like you makes him feel all powerful 😏

He would be eager to meet you very early on but waited respectfully until it was the right time

He surprised you on your guys’ six month anniversary, flying or driving to where you lived

Y’all definitely had a cliche airport hug, being all romantic and cute

He wouldn’t let you go for the majority of his stay, wanting to be close the whole time

Like you wouldn't be able to lay down without his head in your neck, walk down the street without his hand tight around yours, or sit down without being pulled into his lap

He would just love you so much, saying it to you multiple times a day

(Below is a little nsfw stuff so if your not into that leaveeeee)

Y’all definitely fucked during the visit and I have a feeling that that was when he lost his virginity

It would be sweet and he probably did a lot of research beforehand

which included a very awkward talk with dream

You both stripped each others’ clothes off slowly, hands running over newly exposed skin.

He would want to kiss every inch of your body, just so in love

I have a feeling he would want to try to go down on you because he knew it would make him entering you easier and just wanted to try it out

I doubt he would be great at it but also he wouldn’t be bad at all

his tongue slowly going over your sex, for either genitals, soft and long.

he would be so gentle

He wouldn’t even really want you to suck him off because he doesn’t want to make you do that but if you insisted he would be in heaven

Your mouth suckng aggresivily on his length, tongue gracing the bottom and touching his veins

He would try to be quiet with his moans and whimpers but would ultimately fail due to the pure pleasure you’re making him feel

He wouldn’t want to cum without actually having sex with you so he would pull you back gently and lay you on your back 

A condom would be rolled on and lubricant if needed would be used

He would, of course, hold your hand as he pushed in, wanting to ground you and himself 

He holds himself above you and connects your lips as he starts thrusting into you, catching every noise of yours with his mouth

A smile is on his face the whole time, just so happy that he could do this with you

His orgasm would come quickly and maybe you came, maybe you didn’t it happens. 

If you didn’t cum, he would go down on you no questuons asked, but if you did come already or were just tuckered out, its cuddle time

Aftercare with him after the first time is not as great as it could be, he’s exhausted, but he would hold you tight and tell you how wonderful you were.

                    NO MORE NSFW PAST THIS POINT

Everything with him would be amazing after that first trip

Long distance would be hard but you guys would ofc pull through because of the love you have for each other

and no matter how long you guys have been together for, the teasing from Dream never stops

[marisandini-chu-blog]

How Shadow and Bones Differentiate Villain and Anti-Hero

Alright, first I need to claim the fact that I love dark, edgy, but misunderstood bad boy in stories with the potential of epic redemption. Loki from Marvel. Jason Todd from DC. Captain Hook from Once Upon a Time. Zuko from AtLA. You name them, I simp them.

So when I watched this new show on Netflix and shown a tall, handsome man in dark clothing, both respected and feared for his power. I feel... nothing. 

WHICH IS WEIRD! Like... he’s obviously my type. Complete with the sad backstory and vicious streak. So I kept wondering why I wasn’t enamored by the Darkling, Alexander Kirigan. I wasn’t surprised he was the main villain, I even expected it. But I usually at least have a bit of sympathy for them. This OOC behavior of mine made me introspect myself and the show, trying to find out which part gave me the red flags before Mother Darkling decides to pop the chosen one out halfway in the season. 

That’s when it hit me; there were red flags! The show had been subtly trying to tell us Kirigan is a manipulative boyfriend not just by great acting and good directing, but by comparing him with the actual anti-hero of the story who I actually love; Kaz Brekker. 

Here’s the list of signs you might not notice of why Kirigan is meant to be a Villain instead of an Anti-Hero. 

1. The Eyes

"The eyes are the window to the soul" is a common saying and and the key to good acting for any good show. Eyes tell us a lot about what a person’s character is like and SaB showed us the difference of a sincere man and a man with a hidden agenda.

Look at him! Look at that little smirk. Look at the gaze. That's the look you find when someone's evil little plan is finally coming together. Not one awed by the power or by Alina. A blatant sus move is what I'm saying. Congrat, first flag planted.

Sure he could still fall in love with Alina, but that doesn't stop his agenda either. All it does is potentially create conflict for him to pick either his plan for revenge or life with Alina.

In comparison, look at Kaz when he said this to Inej; "She isn't like you, no one is." Straightforward eyes. Serious grim. No nonsense tone. Inej is one of the most talented and terrifying rogue-assassin and Kaz just blatantly said that he kept her from 'slavery' because of who she is, not what she's capable of. Like... the man has no shame being known to love her while still trying to be professional (or as professional a thief can be). I can respect that.

This is the eye of a man who would abandon everything to make sure she comes out alright in the end. Do not argue with me on this!

2. Leverage and Status

The moment Alina steps into the Little Palace she was treated like a princess. A palace, by the way, that’s managed by the Darkling. She gets favorable treatment; from the food, Zoya displaced when she fought Alina, a horseback ride just the two of them, asking her to call by his name to make them familiar, a black uniform that might as well be claiming???

Dude is desperate is what I’m saying. 

Sure, this could all be romantic gestures. There’s the problem that Kirigan is superior in status and name, powerful Grisha, and has a vested interest in her power. Pursuing romance while Kirigan has the ability to make her life heaven or hell with a snap of his finger made every single decision be seen with wariness. 

"Beware of powerful men," Genya couldn't put it any better.

Had they pursued romance after they destroy the fold, cementing Alina’s position as a saint more. Then I might have let go of that wariness. 

I’m only proven correct when the moment Alina turned away from him, Kirigan made another leverage by (spoiler!) putting an antler to her collarbone... eeeewwww much?! 

That’s how desperate the Darkling is to be in control of a person and a situation. 

And when no letter came for Alina? That a big red flag because who else in this castle can control the coming of going of letter with the Savior. HMMMMMMMMMMM.....

Then there’s Kaz. My man. There’s no competition. This guy held no leverage on my dear Inej. When she almost decided to leave, Kaz didn't force or convince her to stay but he ask her. Doesn't remind her of her debt whether monetary or life debt to him. In fact, this guy needs money for revenge but instead mortgage his main source of income for her freedom.

HE POSTPONED HIS LIFE GOAL TO FREE HER FROM DEBT ASJHAKFSDJGLDFJ!!!  

What more do I need to say? 

3. Sympathy Card

This is the type of point you want to watch out from your partners, ladies, gents, and others. The sympathy card is the way to go when anyone wants to reach out to you so you can take care of them before they abuse or gaslight you. 

While it’s good to share trauma and eased the burden, sometimes it's healthy to ask yourself whether the person can take advantage of you and to verify whether they lie to you or not.

When Kirigan shared about his past as a sympathetic boy with his secluded fountain and coin. Everything about that scene rang warning bells for me... the part he had requested her to use his color... requesting to horse ride with just them two... sharing sob story that may encourage Alina to help him...

Kudos to Alina to see through the fact she's seen as a means to an end.

It was only when Kirigan showed righteous anger and frustration of a war that's killing his people did Alina finally opened her heart to him.

Kaz however doesn't use the sympathy card. Heck, the man likes to believe he shed away any weakness and threw it in the harbor where it belongs. Kaz hates weaknesses. And garnering sympathy is an admission of weakness for him.

We still know there's a tragic backstory as any decent anti-hero would have... but by not sharing that, this implies that Inej and Jesper stayed because of who he is, and not because of who he was or how he came to be. They don't need a sob story to stay together and that showed a stronger bond between them.

4. Friends

To be frank, I find this the most hilarious because this point is the one that convinced me that Kirigan was secretly an evil bastard.

He doesn’t have any friends!!!

Like... dude had a literal witch army, a wife once, a fuck buddy, and a girlfriend but there wasn’t a single moment in the show where someone, outside of Alina and superior, to speak casually to him. 

You’re telling me this person... the most powerful and influential Grisha in the East Ravka, charming as hell, handsome as fuck, and yet he doesn’t have friends?! 

“I’ve buried good soldiers... friends...” Get the fuck out of here! WHAT FRIENDS?!?! Maybe if you get off your little power trip from your self-made pedestal, you can actually be less of an asshole and make one. 

Sure he excused himself by blaming his ‘ancestor’ for being a shadow summoner. I can see how the fear makes it hard for him to get close to anybody. But all the other characters who are part of his army only ever shown to speak with him respectfully, and the royalty even commend him. No one disrespected him even openly and you’re telling me he doesn’t have one friend amidst all these people?!

In comparison, look at Kaz. He’s brash, crude, and unapologetic. He held true to his moniker ‘Bastard of the Barrel’ and yet this ass has friends. They show Jesper joking with Kaz, and Kaz has shown to banter with him back as well as tolerating his gambling addiction when it could have jeopardized the Job. Inej was shown to actually argue and have disagreement with Kaz when he’s technically her boss. Can you imagine the Darkling doing that? CAN YOU?!

No. Because he's a pretentious ass. That's why.

This is a great example of the use “show not tell” of how Kaz despite his obvious edges has a soft spot shown through his relationship with Inej and Jesper, who have a friendly dynamic. I can attest that while Kaz didn’t create a good first impression, I love Jesper and Inej (they are precious!) so much that I project it to Kaz in extension.

On the other hand, Kirigan’s goodwill had only ever been told by outsiders or himself. None from his inner circle (which he doesn’t have!) other than his mother, who ended up outing him instead. 

So I applaud the writers and showrunners of SaB to actually have subtext signs of a manipulative bastard. The Duckling is a good villain character that's complex but unredeemable. Sometimes, you just have a good ol' charming villain you can't redeem and that's okay.

[fratboykate]

I usually agree with your takes, but saying people need a film degree to understand when something is bad isn’t really something I can agree with. People are allowed to post their takes on social media as long as they don’t bother anyone involved with it. Unless you’re specifically talking about @‘ing the writer and harassing them, then the viewers can think, feel, and express whatever they wish about a show. Of course the viewer can change the channel, but that doesn’t mean they can’t tell people about their opinion on it. I would also argue that as long as a viewer is respectfully voicing their opinion to a person who was involved with the writing of the show, even that isn’t crossing a line. Creation begets criticism, and even the dumbest person should be allowed to have an opinion on something as art is always up to interpretation.

Obviously you’re seeing this from a creators pov, but the truth is, you can write a story and tell a viewer the character was motivated by “this thing” but they can always disagree and think it was because of something else. And there’s nothing you can do about it expect get annoyed and express that as you wish, just like there’s nothing a viewer can do about a tv show except get annoyed and express that as they wish

I legit didn't even MENTION a film degree in that ask jfjskfjwkfjwkfjfjd What? What I said was: unless you are my boss at the studio or network or a *PROFESSIONAL CRITIC* at a reputable publication and not just some Joe Schmuck who runs FilmCrit1c.blogspot then I, the creator/writer, don't have to listen to you. I never said "shoot everyone who posts opinions on social media on sight" lol. The point I was obviously making is that there is this expectation that writers and creators are beholden to the opinions and reactions of the fans and that's bullshit. That couldn't be further from the truth. Get rid of that idea. I've always said, talk about whatever you want to talk about in your corner of the internet. We can have all the discourse we want here because we have it away from people and don't tag anyone. But it's the entitlement that comes with believing that your opinions have weight beyond...being throwaway words on the internet that ruins it.

Creators spend YEARS of their fucking lives working on putting together the vision for a show, then go through more years of the nightmare that is development with production companies/studios/networks, then the years of headache of writing and production and post. All of this culminates in the small miracle that is getting a show on TV and the reward they get is to have some sixteen year old from Bumfuck with Cheeto dust on their fingers and not a fucking clue what goes into making any of this happen @ them to tell them they know their character better than they do??? FUCK ALL THE WAY OFF lol.

But also, even if they were people with "film degrees" that apparently means nothing anymore. Do you know who are the people getting film degrees now? The obnoxious loud mouths Twitter has bred these last few years. The same ones who don't know and have never known jack shit and they're taking that same annoying attitude to school. Look at this:

This is how deep the Marvel brain rot goes. These are the people who are going to be greenlighting shows and movies in 10-20 years. We are FUCKED. We're fucked.

[0aurelion-sol0]

Yo~

What's your opinion on the Will Byers DID theory? If you like it, which version do you like better? Both interpretations seem cool to me, though I personally like strangertheory's version better ^.^

Hi!

That's a very interesting question. I want to start by saying that I am a singlet, so I don't have DiD or OSDD. My knowledge of this condition is primarly known through medias I consume or some more "advanced" psychiatric documents or researches.

DiD is a condition that hasn't been always best represented or accurately represented since this condition varies from people who have it and so while there are similarities, the experience of it is very much unique and personal. It is also something that in a fictional setting with different genres, themes and tones is very hard to pull off or represent unless you go for the very realistic take on it.

It is bound to be, like many other things in fiction, dramatized. And speaking from a singlet perspective, who also had particular problems represented in fiction, I think it's okay as long as it's done right, in the setting, tone and genre it is in.

For example, we have today a lot more LGBTQ+ representation and like everything, unless you go for the fully realistic route, it's going to be simplified and dramatized. There's so many gender identities and sexual orientations today, you have to simplify it. And that goes for many other things that people care about in media, it has to be done right, but the writers still have a story to tell and unless that subject is the focus of the story, they're not gonna always spend their time talking about that. There is a story to tell.

Secondly, if it is the main focus of the story, that is where people have to do their research and really represent what they are talking about. Not some half-baked representation with dull arguments and points that come from a capitalist and conservative worldview. (Looking at you Disney.)

Now what you are referencing are @strangertheory 's and @kaypeace21 's theories which are about the show being about a DiD system where we see different alters evolving in said story with the host being Will Byers.

There is a lot of evidence pointing towards it, I'm gonna let you go see their posts and read it.

But their theories are very different in the way that they see the show portraying DiD, I have actually find quite a great way to describe the two takes.

@kaypeace21 's take is that elements of the DiD system have been externalised through science-"fictional" or supernatural means. Similar to Legion from the Marvel universe.

(David is a powerful mutant with DiD where each alters, if I remember correctly, has a different power or powers. (Which to this day is still one of the most BADASS thing I have ever come across though it must be quite terrifying for David.))

@strangertheory is an internalised POV on the DiD system existing in the show. She believes that what we are seeing right now is what is exclusively happening INSIDE the DiD system and that what we are experiencing is not our standard definition of the "real world". As in the physical world we all know. This would be in very vulgar terms happening inside Will's self, head, mind or brain. In a sense, it would be a more accurate representation of what DiD is about. A Shyamalan twist if you prefer.

(Though right now I don't have any word for word examples of such take, there is a show called MR.ROBOT that fits a bit of this description since there are moments in the show that we are seeing are only happening in the DiD system itself.

I recommend this show A LOT. It still is a bit dramatized but from what I know the DiD representation is quite accurate and pleased a lot of people with DiD. Also some people on the Stranger Things crew worked on that show.)

Now do I love the DiD theory ?

Heck yeah, I fucking love it! And with a big L! (Am I right "The First I love you?").

And I Love both of the takes and I think each one works at explaining the mysteries of this story. I even think that in some ways both could work well together.

I believe that DiD can be, without the meaning of being used, like many things a powerful storytelling "device" since it is connected to so many themes and other writing tools and is linked literally to the psyche, emotions and personalities of the characters.

I can understand why some people like both or one or respectfully and logically dislike both or one of the takes. But it is close to my belief about what the show is about or were even before I came into this fandom or on the internet, not as complex and thought out as the theory itself but pretty close in the overall themes and aspects of it.

(Though it bewilders me how much people lack imagination or are scared of such twist when I have seen so many of those types before whether it's done well or not, accurate or not.)

Now both @strangertheory and @kaypeace21 are intelligent people with very nuanced takes. And they had their fair share of completely unjust controversies coming from either rabbid ignorant shippers, far too sensible people or downright ignorant stupid people, most of the time 16 year olds. I am not saying that they are perfect, no one is, but the hate they have received is completely unjust.

And I am gonna lay it down right here, they are begging for an accurate representation here, they are not doing this because it just sounds cool and is edgy, they are actually wanting that The Duffers pull this off well. They would be very mad if they use all the imagery just to make it look cooler or scarier.

They are not bringer of truths, they are just like us. They are theorists, they believe in something that they think can explain the story they love and are experiencing. And so far, they have a pretty damn good track record.

They are analysing, dissecting the show because it's what they want to do and they believe in it and they believe the Duffers wants them to do that (I mean how come no one believes it when watching a show like that set in the 80's with so many references ?).

It is also supposed to be fun. Have fun for God's Sake! You can disagree with it but calling names and being disrespectful because somehow they don't agree with very basic, lazy and cliché theories (and no it's not being hypocrite, a lot of people barely do the work.) or are not on board with your creepy projection over the characters IS not okay.

And no, they aren't supporting p*d*philia as some people have claimed. How can you read these theories and come up to that conclusion ?

Most people haven't even read the DiD theory or have gone all the way through with it because they are lazy, easily bored people who don't have the time to just relax, process and think.

Stranger Things is not a kids show, some dumb teenage romance drama show with cool monsters! It's a very mature show, with real problems that are treated, out of which is trauma and mental health. Kids are killing people and even dying on this show. There is sexism, racism, abuse both physical and psychological.

It is a very mature and dark show. And you are being disrespectful to the Duffers when you say they are not that smart or that isn't that important. They are putting a lot of thoughts into this and the fact that no one really recognises this annoys me.

Or people only think it's important when it is only about the things they enjoy in the show. (Which is more hypocrite to me.) OR people are very stupid if they truly think that or are just jealous, bitter that two women have more imagination together and individualy than all of them or that person alone.

Color and costume choices, subtext, context, camera angles, directing, VFX, music, editing, sets, props, script, acting and editing are very important. All must be carefully done or you get very bad or generic stuff if you don't. If you love and you are passionate about the work, you put all the details you can into it.

And the Duffers and all the people working with them have already referenced those sort of things AND the practice of what we do on the internet. They are aware, they know because they have been in the same place too. They grew up with stories too, they made theories too whether it's on the internet or not.

At the end of the day, it is just a theory. An explanation of what is unfolding, may unfold or may have unfolded. I believe in it, I think it is reasonable, it has logic and it makes sense. It also has a lots of elements backing it up.

And the Duffers don't even have to go with DiD or mention it. Will creating some of the characters and supernatural events from his trauma is also similar and more accessible to the masses. But a Shyamalan twist can also work if it is done well.

And I am also open to other possibilities and theories, if they make sense and have enough elements IN THE SHOW and everything connected to it backing it up.

If the Duffers write something completely different but it is as good and also explains even better than this theory than I'll be okay. I love being wrong, it makes me learn new things and enhances the way I approach stories in the future.

If the Duffers only used this as some very inaccurate and disrespectful scary/abstract subtext without commiting to it. That is where I will have a problem.

Or write something completely incoherent with the rest of the show with a bad plot twist catering to the main public masses to sell the story even more and just make money so that they are safe with a fallacy of a work of fiction. Because they are cowards who didn't know how to manage themselves and baited entire audiences or listened to some crappy executive who didn't understand shit about the story. (wink wink, looking at a certain something...)

So yeah, I do love the DiD theory and both of it's takes and if it happens and is done right, with of course my perspective on the thing and PRIMARLY the perspective of people who have DiD or know a lot about it, I'll be pleased with it and I think it could be something very important for stories, people, the world and "art" in general.

Thank you for the question it was really fun! I hope I described the theory and the condition in the right way @kaypeace21 and @strangertheory and also the people who are concerned or know about it if I didn't let me know. Also, if you disagree with what I said, the way I said it or the subject itself let me also know IF it's respectful of course.

[tlcwrites]

Two Hearts Make a Whole

Prompt: “Kiss me again, like you mean it.” Photo prompt below.

Summary: NYC Pride is for celebration, and occasionally, long-overdue revelations.

Word Count: 2,001

Tags/Content warnings: Marvel. Stucky. If you have a problem with it, there's the door. SFW. Slight TFATWS spoilers so read at your own risk. Platonic Reader. Two idiots in love. Technically canon-divergent because I'm still in my everyone-is-alive-and-in-this-timeline happy place that I will never ever leave fuck you very much Russo brothers but not AU. Found family. All the feels. Complete and total LGBTQ+ support. Lots of bad language words because #me. Un-beta'd.

Author’s Note: Okay so yes this is technically 4 weeks late for @autumnleaves1991-blog's Writer Wednesday weekly challenge. BUT, it was incredibly important to me to finish this one before Pride month is over. Made it by the skin of my teeth.

Happy Pride, y’all. If you’re out, you’re amazing. If you’re closeted, you’re amazing. However you identify is valid and important. Trans folx are LGBTQ+. Bisexuals are LGBTQ+. Ace folx are LGBTQ+. Anyone who identifies or thinks they may be as queer is LGBTQ+. All are welcome in the family. You have the right to choose your pronouns and we have the responsibility to use them. Live whatever your truth looks like to you and love each other. Love is love is love is love. If your family doesn’t accept you for you, I’m your mom now and I’ve got mom hugs available on demand. Homophobes and TERFS can fuck off and roll in poison ivy. Always punch Nazis. Pride shouldn't be limited to the month of June. And don’t you dare forget that Black and Brown trans women were the ones who rioted at Stonewall, and we owe everything to their bravery. Don’t forget that much of popular ‘gay’ culture was appropriated from Black women. And for more facts about Pride that you should absolutely know, Rawiyah Tariq (@ mammyisdead on Instagram) has a phenomenally good overview.

“Oh my god.” You gasp loudly. "Oh my GOD. Is that-"

“What?!” Instantly in First Avenger Protective Mode™️, Steve surveys the crowd, wishing he had an actual shield instead of the screen printed one on his shirt. “What is it?”

You gasp again, smacking Sam’s arm repeatedly. “OHMYGOD IT IS HOLY FUCK.”

“First; ow.” Now-Cap rubs his bicep. “Second; clue in the class before Steve has an aneurysm, please.”

Vibrating with excitement doesn’t begin to describe your current state. “HER ROYAL HIGHNESS MISS LEMON MERINGUE IS STANDING RIGHT FUCKING THERE.”

With the finesse of a shampoo commercial, Bucky's dark locks fly as he whips around. “What?!”

“RIGHT THERE RIGHT THERE RIGHT THERE.” You abandon a relieved Sam and latch on to Bucky’s vibranium arm. “Oh my GOD I love her so fucking much.”

“She was robbed, absolutely fucking robbed,” he agrees, craning his neck to get a better view. “Divine Tension’s lip sync was shameful.”

Sam glances at Steve, who is slowly coming out of protector mode. “What the ever-loving hell are they talking about?”

“RuPaul’s Drag Race.” Nat flicks more confetti at both Cap-the-former and Cap-the-current. “They watch it every week.”

“Really, Steven, for a guy with enhanced super senses, you miss a lot.” Tony hefts a bedazzled Morgan higher on his back. The toddler, accompanied by Scott playing air-piano on the ground, sings along with the ABBA song being blasted at full volume through the street. Tony continues as if this is an everyday occurrence. “Why do you think both of your People disappear every Friday evening?”

Ears pink, Steve mumbles something.

“What?!” The only other one with hearing enhanced enough to hear a murmur over the cacophony of several thousand people belting out the chorus of ‘Dancing Queen’ at the top of their lungs, Bucky turns to stare at his friend. “You thought we were datin’?”

Steve’s blush extends down his neck.

You and Bucky stare at each other for a moment before you both collapse on each other, exploding into stomach clenching, thigh slapping laughter.

“I’m gonna guess that’s a ‘no’?” Clint confirms with Nat.

“Oh, a big ‘no’.” She watches affectionately as you and Bucky calm down enough to look at each other, breathe for a second, and both promptly dissolve into hysterics once more. “Like, the biggest ‘no’.”

Sam crossed his arms across his chest, his stoic stance so reminiscent of Steve it’s amusing (as well as a beautiful disparity to the sequined crop top he’s sporting. Oof, those abs.). “How do I not know about this?”

“Because you’re not a former super spy?” The usually-Black-but-today-Rainbow Widow tosses the last of her confetti at Tony, who spins a jubilant Morgan into it. “Or because you and that leggy barista from the lobby coffee shop are too busy playing hide-the-“

“-Baby Shark!” Morgan suddenly shrieks, flailing towards a guy on roller blades wearing a fin and tail (and not much else).

“Yeah,” Nat finishes with a smirk, “Hide-the-Baby Shark.”

Sam flips her a gesture that makes Clint laugh and Bruce sigh.

You and Bucky have finally managed to pull yourselves together. “Oh my god, Steven Grant,” you gasp, wiping tears from your eyes. “That’s the funniest fucking shit I’ve ever fucking heard.”

“Language!”

Steve glares at Tony. “One. Time. It was one. Time.”

Bucky slings his flesh arm around Steve’s shoulders. “Oh, punk. You may have perfect vision now, but sometimes you’re still as blind as you were before.”

Visiortn himself nods sagely. “Humans can be quite unperceptive when it comes to matters of the heart.” Vision casts a fond smile at Wanda, who is using her powers to make Pietro’s tinsel wig fly on and off. “Sometimes you have to look harder to see what’s right in front of your nose.”

A confused frown on that handsome face, Captain Clueless looks at Bucky. “Why do I feel like everyone else knows something that I don’t?”

His bestie sighs deeply. “Because, Stevie, almost everyone else on this planet knows that my tastes tend towards tall, blonde, blue-eyed knuckleheads who have zero sense of self-preservation.”

“And an ass you could bounce a quarter off of,” Scott helpfully supplies.

“And that,” Bucky agrees.

Steve frowns.

You press your palms to your eyes in vexation. “You, Steve. He’s talking about you.” (Seriously, how has this idiot survived for over a century while being so dumb?)

Whatever he was expecting, it was certainly not that. “He-“ The Man With A Plan gapes as he turns to his oldest friend. “You-“

“Me,” Bucky says gently.

Even though you’re slightly surprised that Bucky is going to do this in such a public forum, you can’t help but be so proud of your friend. It has taken a long time for Bucky to believe he deserves to be happy. There are days he still sinks into that dark place, where his inner demons whisper that he should have fought harder against his Hydra captors, and that his past actions were still somehow his fault. Those are the days no amount of baking or Modern Marvels will bring him out of his funk. You, Steve, Sam, and Nat have all held those strong shoulders as they shook with sobs, overwhelmed by the shame and horror at what his hands had done without his consent.

But he’s here. He’s free. And he’s smiling nervously at his best friend.

“I-” Steve is short-circuiting. “Me?!”

“Stevie.” With the kind of tender patience that can only be born of a lifetime of keeping (or attempting to keep) an idiot such as one Steven Grant Rogers from flinging himself headlong into every fight he comes across, Bucky moves his flesh hand to the back of Steve’s neck. His face is full of such soft affection that you almost want to look away for fear of intruding on this suddenly intimate moment. “What do you think ‘til the end of the line’ means, you idiot? You’ve been it for me since I was thirteen-years-old.”

Blue eyes are locked with blue eyes as Steve processes this revelation. “I-” He shakes his head as if to declutter his thoughts. “This whole time?”

“Since the first time I saw that asshole knock you down, and your scrawny ass climbed right back up.” A wry chuckle escapes as Bucky reminices. “You were ninety pounds soaking wet, and you stood there, against a guy who was three times your size, and never waivered for a second. It was magnificent.”

“I don’t like bullies,” is Steve’s quiet response.

Bucky’s grin is adoring. “I know, sweetheart.” He gently strokes the back of Steve’s neck with his thumb. “You’ve always had a heart way bigger than your brain.”

Steve is still back on the first part of Bucky’s admission. “If you’ve felt- if you-” He’s practically pleading. “Why didn’t you say anything then?”

Bucky shrugs, attempting and failing nonchalance. “It was a different time, you know?” He’s uncharacteristically unsure of himself, the subtle waiver in his voice revealing the anxiety born of a lifetime of being forced to hide his truth. “I mean, you remember how it was; you didn’t talk about, no one talked about- about being- about people like...” He swallows thickly.  “And I was so scared you didn’t, that you weren’t-” His voice breaks.

Even though you’ve all been emotionally invested in this love story for years, the entire team respectfully pretends not to listen as the former Winter Soldier quietly admits his deepest secret to his closest friend. It’s enraging as Bucky confesses yet another way he's been a victim of his circumstances, and denied his right to live freely without derision. Once more, you’re awed by his resilience.

“-it was a risk I couldn’t take,” Bucky finally gets out, that stubborn fire back in his eyes. “I couldn’t lose you, Steve. I couldn’t chance it. I could live with just being your friend and only your friend so long it meant you were in my life.”

Stunned silence meets the end of his confession. Steve’s face is impassive, those cerulean eyes uncharacteristically inscrutable.

You can all tell Bucky is heading steadily towards dread and heartbreak the longer Steve takes to respond. You and Sam exchange a look, both ready to intervene if Steve demonstrates any of the abhorrent attitudes that were so prevalent in the society of his youth. It would be completely out of character for him, but...

Finally, Steve speaks. “You’re telling me,” he says, his words slow and deliberate, “that you made me wait ninety-three years to tell me you’ve felt the same way about me as I have about you since the day you picked me up out of that alley?!”

The whole found family breaths a collective sigh of relief as Steve pulls Bucky even closer, broad chest to broad chest.

“Okay, to be fair, you were an ice cube for most of that time and I wasn’t exactly available for a relationship.” Bucky’s grin stands in contradiction to his mullish defense. “But yeah, that’s the gist of it.” There’s the Bucky you all know and love, biting his lip with those perfect white teeth. “Now, punk, I’d really like to kiss you now, but first I need you to say you want me to.”

“You-” Steve’s throat works as he attempts- and fails- to rein in his emotions. “You jerk.”

And then the Star Spangled Man seizes the president of the Sometimes-Former-Assassins Club by his ridiculously perfect face and crashes their mouths together.

At any Pride event, seeing two men kissing is, obviously, to be expected. But seeing The First Avenger and The White Wolf attempting to swallow each other’s tongues is not at all routine. As people realize what is happening, the crowd is whipped into a frenzy the likes of which is usually reserved for the aftermath of sporting events and elections that defeat fascists.

Watching the two men embrace, Scott sniffles loudly. “I’m gonna cry, I’m so happy.”

He’s certainly not the only one. Wanda has a watery smile as she wraps her arms around Vision and Pietro; Pepper, Tony, and Bruce are watching with fond parental energy; you and Sam sandwich Peter between the two of you, grins practically splitting your faces. Even Nat’s eyes look suspiciously shiny and she and Clint sling their arms around each other with platonic affection. And that’s not counting the several thousand people who are cheering for love being love being love being love.

When they finally break their embrace, the Centennial twins are startled to see they’ve collected quite an audience.

“Uh, so…” Suddenly bashful, Steve glances back to his- partner? Boyfriend? Soulmate? Is there a word that can accurately describe two people who have found each other time and again in a world that seems hell-bent on keeping them apart?- his ears practically maroon with embarrassment. For a guy with one of the most-recognized faces in the world, Steve is still incredibly and endearingly uncomfortable with attention. “Buck?”

Bucky seems just as stunned as Steve.

Thankfully, the masses demonstrate the usual support that’s the hallmark of Pride. “LOVE IS LOVE!” someone screams in the crowd. It’s quickly echoed, and chants fill the park.

The attention momentarily off them, the former Winter Soldier and his giant himbo of a soulmate look back at each other. You pretend not to watch through the happiest tears as they embrace again, bringing their foreheads together. The relief they share is palpable, as they’re finally able to show the world- and each other- the love they’ve each hidden for so long.

Bucky’s voice is so soft you have to strain to hear it. “You have no idea how much m’in love with you, Stevie.”

“Pretty sure I do,” Steve answers, bringing a hand up to carefully wipe the tears from Bucky’s face. “‘cause it’s as much as I love you, Buck.”

Bucky's answering grin can only be described as saucy. “Then kiss me again, like you mean it.”

And Steve, for once in his long life, does exactly as ordered.

---

A/N: “The Sometimes-Former-Assassins Club” is from Starry_Emerald173’s BRILLIANT The Avengers Wrangler over on AO3. If you haven’t read it yet, drop what you’re doing and do so immediately. Make sure you're not drinking any liquids, or your keyboard/phone may be in peril.

[mythiccheroacademia]

Hey I would like to ask if the reader can be teaching the girls how to twerk How would Bakugo Izuku Todoroki and Kirishima react to this Love you😍🥰🥰

bc this was requested wayyyyy before i put up the rules (thank u for being patient, love), i’ll write for the four you asked for :) all requests after will have to abide by the three or less rule!

A/N: Every girl has looked in the mirror and practiced. You can’t tell me otherwise. Also, Mina is gonna be in all of them because I just know that girl can twerk lmaoFunny story! One time, people in my class held a Twerk 101 class because what we saw at parties was atrocious. I was one of the professors hehe~

Warnings: N/A

Bakugo Katsuki: 

there was no reason why the girls of class 1-A were up at 2am holding a twerk class

but they were

you, mina, and momo were the teachers

everyone else was the students

it was tough work, but you all were making progress

if you could see hagakure, you were sure she would’ve been killing it

in the midst of you giving a preview of tick-tocking, someone barged into the girls’ living room

it was your bf bakugo

“WHY ARE YOU BITCHES MAKING ALL THIS NOISE AT 2 AM IN THE FUCK–”

sees you twerking and immediately freezes

it’s so quiet

his eye twitches 

it’s too early to deal with this

his face gets really red and instead of cussing you all out like he planned to do, he just aggressively snorts

“continue on, just doing it fucking quietly”

mina: “well that went better than expected”

Midoriya Izuku:

you and mina were dancing around in your room

you were having a dance off

and then some ass-throwing music came on

then it turned into a twerking contest

y’all were breaking your backs

and then your bf, midoriya walked in

like he owned the place

“hey, [Y/N], do you know how to solve number six–”

the two of you didn’t even know he was there until he screamed

like, a scream that’d make your throat sore 

you jump and find the green-haired boy as red as a tomato

he’s mumbling apologies and how good you were

then he’s out of the room before you could even blink

trips on the way out

Todoroki Shoto:

you were teaching the best girl tsuyu how to twerk

she was self-conscious about her butt bc it was on the smaller side

you could relate bc you didn’t have the biggest butt, so you had to get creative

mina wanted to help

bc little booties matter!

whiles you were giving a tutorial, todoroki walks in

it’s like the jazz record stops

everyone is just staring

and then todoroki deadass says

“do you need someone to practice on?”

“todoroki–”

“i will gladly volunteer”

“SHOTO”

mina: “the energy!”

you’re mortified and tsu and mina are laughing

todoroki is serious tho

Kirishima Eijrou:

y’all are 18 in this 

the girls wanna be prepared for the club

they’ve seen you twerk and needed help

“[y/n]-sensei, please pass on your wisdom!”

who were you to deny your friends?

if everyone was stepping out, everyone had to be on point!

you were teaching your lesson, giving criticism 

then your bf kirishima walks in 

instead of being awkward, he gives you a thumbs up

“good work! you dance well!”

he’s so pure and wholesome

he even shows how a guy should respectfully approach a girl to dance with

the girls marvel at how well he follows your hips

they take notes 

kiri tells them that if they feel uncomfortable, they can walk away without an excuse

truly the manliest man in UA

[stanknotstark]

Astral Pt. 8 (Loki x Reader)

Ok guys they’re REUNITED! God i hope you all know that I wrote all 7 parts in one day because i was so obsessed with getting chapters out so i wouldn’t have to write them daily or lose my thoughts!! Ok well now i have some time to figure out where the story will go from here or if i end it here....

IM JUST JOKING it’s not over yet XDD it’s barely begun :p Feel free to send messages about what you think is gonna happen or who might make minor appearances, villain or hero, cuz i have some planned out! I’ve been doing research guys, i bought a marvel encyclopedia for the first time in years cuz i visited the store the other day and loaded up on comic books again it’s been awhile but my collection is growing again ^^

You’re standing next to Natasha when the brothers drop down from the sky in their rainbow elevator thing. Thor called it the bifrost? It wasn’t something Loki had talked about when you had been on speaking terms, he must have not found it important enough.

The brothers landed outside on Stark’s glorified patio, 91 floors up. You almost forget to breathe as you look at Loki. His hair is a little longer now, he’s definitely lost some weight, and the bags under his eyes tell you enough. His face is cold as he looks around and, angrily, lets Thor lead him inside where you all stand in various places waiting on them. You note that both the brothers are dressed casually but it’s still a bit much, Earth wise. 

You swallow as Loki first sees Tony and smirks at him, “Seems I won’t be missing that drink you promised?” 

Tony gave him a once over then shrugged. “I guess you deserve a small break. Thor filled me in on what’s been going on.” Tony said, you thought you could hear a hint of a threat lacing his words though. Loki huffed and rolled his eyes looking at the rest of the team before his eyes landed on you. 

You looked into his eyes for what felt like hours but must have only been seconds. The angry look he had been parading in dropped and you saw a flurry of reactions so quick everyone else would miss it but you knew Loki. You try your best to keep your face disinterested, not quite sure if you succeed. Still a bit hurt he told you to never come back coming to the front of your mind you look away and whisper to Nat, “I gotta go, fill me in on what happens.” Then you rush out.

You hear Tony saying, “You already scared off y/n..” as you left the room. 

You basically run to your room and slam the door shut. Your breathing had started becoming haggard on your way up and only intensified as you closed yourself in your room. Both your hands gripped at your hair and pull, your eyes squeezed shut, tight. You shouldn’t be reacting like this it was Loki, it was just Loki. He wouldn’t hurt you, physically. You had thought that you were over whatever heartbreak you had all those years before. How the fuck were you to function normally around him if just one look at him made you this panicky? Made your heart beat so hard you thought it might break out of your ribs. Made you want to cry deliriously happy and sad at the same time. 

You let go of your hair, let your tears fall, and punched the wall a few times, hoping the pain in your hands would ground you. Luckily, it did, but you’d probably have to come up with an excuse because your knuckles were blooming dark purple. You took in deep breaths, copying what Loki had taught you to do when you got to worked up, subconsciously, the thought of him causing you to freak a bit more but then you just focused on breathing. 

It’s a few hours later when Natasha comes to your room and tells you dinner is ready. You had settled and had a book open in your lap as you sat on your bed. You consider skipping dinner and you’re about to say it when you see the look Natasha is giving you. She had been the one to teach you to over come your fears, to face them head on. She probably thought you were scared of Loki because he had tried to take over the world. Oh, how wrong she was. You nodded and told her you were gonna wear something else. She left you in peace and you sighed, rubbing a hand over your face then putting on your brave face and getting dressed in something casual. A simple t-shirt and jeans would suffice. 

When you entered the dinning room, a floor below yours, everyone was seated. Natasha had left you a seat. Right next to Loki. You swallowed and studiously kept your eyes anywhere but on Loki when you sat down. You realized Loki was very tense when you sat next to him but said nothing on the matter. 

“Brother! This is dear Y/n I mentioned, she’s got a quick wit just like you, I’m sure you both will be the best of friends!” 

You smiled at Thor but it probably came off as more of a grimace because Thor gave you a frown. Loki said nothing and focused on eating his food. The whole table got silent realizing something was up between you and Loki. You cleared your throat and tried to sooth things over by looking at Loki. His eyes caught yours and for a second you got lost in them, again. God, get ahold of yourself!

Mentally shaking your head you plastered a smile on and said, “Nice to meet you, Loki, I can’t wait to get to know you.” You finish lamely then quickly look at your food and begin stuffing your face so you wouldn’t have to speak anymore. 

“Riiiiiight.” Tony said eyeing you and Loki suspiciously. Steve sat next to him frowning at your attitude. You missed the silent conversation Natasha and Clint had. 

“You’re going to choke if you continue to eat like a bilge snipe that hasn’t seen food in weeks.” Loki said in a casual voice.

You choke. You swallow what is in your mouth, Natasha hitting your back a few times, and then you laugh. 

God you missed Loki. 

“Remember when you swallowed that moon berr-” Stopping yourself short you swallowed and closed your eyes, last seeing Loki’s happy look turn into a neutral face as he glances around at the team. Damn. 

“Remember? You two know each other?” Natasha asked, nudging you with her elbow. Thankfully you see she reserves her judgement on the situation. 

Sighing you look at the team and set your utensils down. 

“Loki is...” You shot Loki a confused look as if to ask if you still were but shook your head and continued on looking at Nat primarily, “We’re soulmates. I first met Loki when I was 13 years old.” 

“In person?” Steve asked.

“No, I can astral project my spirit but because I’m his soulmate it wasn’t hard it just kind of happened when I needed him most.” 

You picked up your glass of water, noticing you are shaking a bit. You especially tried not to jump when you felt Loki set a comforting hand on your thigh under the table. Taking a drink you looked at the table, took a deep breath, then let your eyes come back up to the confused team. 

“When you needed him most?” Tony asked after a few minutes of silence. 

Looking at Tony you bit your lip. Should you....

“My grandfather killed my grandmother in front of me when I was 13, I hid in my closet and closed my eyes, when I opened them I was in a room in Asgard.” 

“She was in one of my mental rooms that I use to astral project. A fabricated room I made when I was younger.” Loki said, his eyes only on you. 

“He was always there when something bad happened and we became best friends. I was 17 when I realized I had magic, his magic.” You said looking at Nat who looked confused. “Because we’re connected through our mind and soul, I draw my power from him. The powers I have are Loki’s in a sense but at the same time my own, I can do some things he can’t and vice versa.” 

“So if Loki just like, hypothetically, died,” Tony rolled his eyes when Loki glared at him, “Hypothetically! Would you lose your powers?” 

You swallowed as a knot formed in your throat and looked at Loki with sad eyes, willing him to answer because you surely didn’t have an answer for that. 

“Possibly.” Loki clipped out, sending a glare at Tony, as if damning him for making you think of that preposterous idea. 

Tony hummed in thought. 

“If you’re soulmates, why did she react the way she did when she first saw you?” Thor asked, mostly aiming the question to Loki. Loki looked at Thor, angry, then let out a breath and held his chin high. 

“We had a falling out three years ago.” 

“No doubt your fault?” Thor said causing Loki to nod once with a roll of his eyes. 

“No!” You yelled looking at Loki with exasperation. “I’m the one that chose to leave!” 

“I’m the one that gave you an ultimatum.” Loki ground out, frowning at you. 

“You were trying to keep me safe.” You said causing Loki to scoff. 

“Ok, wait, what happened so we can all choose our sides respectfully here?” Clint asked. 

“Shield found out about my powers when I was 17, said once I turn 18 they can give me an offer I can’t refuse. I could work for them. Loki said not to do it because it sounded like they were gonna use me as a weapon, that we knew nothing about Shield and what it stood for,” You sighed and pinched the bridge of your nose with closed eyes, “I told him I was gonna take up their offer considering I had a bad home life, he argued Shield could be more dangerous and I told him I was still gonna take the offer anyways so he offered an ultimatum.” Letting your hand fall down to your lap and over Loki’s, still resting on your lap. You softly caressed his knuckles under the table. When you had closed your eyes, to pinch your bridge, you missed the concerned look Loki gave as he saw the violet bruises on your knuckles. 

“He said if I leave to never come back because he wouldn’t be able to watch me get hurt.” 

Tony breathed through his teeth, a hiss, but otherwise everyone stayed silent. 

“I left.” You finished lamely.

The table stayed silent for awhile, everyone gathering their thoughts and questions, until Steve spoke up. 

“After she left, what did you do Loki?” 

“I had Heimdal watch over her-”

“He is all seeing.” Thor said quickly to help out.

“-and I told him that if she were to find any trouble she could not handle to send me to her.” 

You looked up at Loki, shocked, who zealously kept his eyes on Steve. You offered what comfort you could by grasping his hand and squeezing. You smiled inwardly as Loki’s tense form softened slightly. 

“I’m taking it she never ran into trouble she couldn’t handle.” Steve said, more as a statement than a question.

“From what Heimdal has told me, joining Shield is the best thing to happen to her and I almost stopped that.” 

“You couldn’t have known.” You said quietly, frowning in thought, Loki finally looked down at you and your heart almost broke in half at the hurt in his eyes. 

“All you wanted was the best for me and I’m sorry I left,” You looked down and squeezing his hand before looking back up at his eyes, “I’m sorry I left and never tried to reach you again but I’m not sorry about the decision I made.” 

Loki looked at you for a bit then nodded, satisfied with something he found on your face or possibly in your eyes. “I’m sorry I never tried to reach out to you too.” Loki admitted.

You glanced at Thor who sat next to Loki, looking a little put out he never knew about the both of you. 

“Sorry we didn’t tell you Thor I kind of wanted to keep it a secret because I was going through a lot and wasn’t very trusting of strangers at the time.” You said to placate Thor, making the blame fall on you instead of Loki since their relationship was already rocky to begin with. A minor way you could apologize to Loki about not contacting him. 

Thor smiled, genuinely, then said “I’m just happy to make your acquaintance now, y/n.” 

Everyone went back to eating their almost cold meal now. Natasha and Clint the only ones that noted that you and Loki ate with one hand the entire time.

Conversations flowed between the team smoothly like you all were meant to be there, together. No one made any comments on the fact that you and Loki couldn’t keep your eyes off each other the entire time either.

Pt. 7/Pt. 8/?

Tag list: @justfangirlthingies @emelieh99  @high-functioning-lokipath​ 

[phantomato]

Waterlogged, Ch. 11

Too soon, it was January, and Hermione owled him.

They started small. Tea on the weekends, perhaps breakfast or lunch in the Muggle world. She would touch his hand and laugh as he told stories about his geriatric colleagues. “Lord Slughorn thought the American Muggles were still having a civil war,” he’d say, or, “Lady Flint told me that back in the mid-1800s, when she was new on the Wizengamot, one of the members hit another with his cane over import fees for honeydew melons.” They would talk about the absurdity of these purebloods, so lost in their own world, and wonder if it was possible they would ever live long enough to be so out-of-touch. “No,” Hermione would insist, “we’re too grounded in our Muggle roots,” and she would make a broad gesture at the dingy place where they were eating their ration-impacted fry-ups. Tom would bite back a comment about whose Muggle roots the crappy old café filled with factory workers really reflected, and suggest, instead, “It would happen to anyone if they got as old as Dippet,” and they would marvel that the man was still employed.

Tom would cajole her in an attempt to learn her plans, but Hermione stayed quiet on that front. “Not out in public,” she would deflect, and he would raise an eyebrow as he looked pointedly at their Muggle surroundings. She never caved. She would put her hand on his arm and give it a squeeze, though, and promise him “soon.” “What’s keeping you?” he would ask, and she would just shake her head and give him that sweet, clever little smile that said she was planning something. They would return to compiling notes on the Wizengamot members and Ministry department heads and he would let the topic drop for the day.

Then Hermione started coming over.

[AO3]

What do they do when Hermione comes over??? (they fuck)

Meta below the fold

We’re getting into the meat of this relationship, the parts of Tom/Hermione that inspired the fic title. They’re something waterlogged, bloated and misshapen and unpleasant to the touch, and even if you managed to dry it back out again, it would be warped beyond recognition.

It’s infuriating to me in the way that nearly all relationships in your late teens/early 20s are infuriating, this mess of codependence where two people stagnate together because moving forward would involve risks and that’s impossible to contemplate at an age when so much in life is changing, and you feel compelled to hang on to whatever stability you can find, even if it’s not good stability. Negative values are constants just as much as positive values, y’know? (Forgive me bringing it back to computer science; I am programmed for one thing.) 

This is where sticking with Tom’s POV gets itchy. There’s a temptation to flip over to Hermione and give some due to her thoughts, let her emotions and conflicts breathe so that we get to see her in a more sympathetic light. Even if Tom isn’t cursing her or upset with her—and pretty clearly, he’s not, not long-term, not in a serious way—when I read this, I see her as somewhat villainous. And she must not be, she must have feelings about the whole situation that are more complicated than “fuck that guy,” but this is Tom’s story and so: does it really matter? If she’s not vocalizing those feelings, if she keeps him at arm’s length, what does it matter what type of fondness she has for him, if she likes how he smiles, if she thinks he’s irresistible when he moans, whatever. 

Switching their typical ship roles is like wearing a jacket where the shoulders are too small. It’s uncomfortable when you move. It doesn’t bend naturally. You want to take it off and put on something familiar, something that fits better, but I think—at least, it works like this for me—I’ll never not notice how shoulders fit again after that experience. every future jacket will be evaluated for the fit of the shoulders, and maybe I’ll realize that some past jackets didn’t fit as well as I’d thought, just not as badly as this one. Is this metaphor too drawn-out?

I had wanted to talk more about the politics in my writeup for this post, to close out. I’m really proud of Hermione’s ideas, here, and I think she’s fucking on target. The wizarding world is nuts and should be ripped apart, brick by brick, and reforged into something more sensible, and there’s no way to do that without getting at least metaphorically violent.

However.

I posted this chapter yesterday morning, and then I turned on the news and watched extremists storm the American Capitol building and suddenly, writing a fic that even vaguely touched on politics made me feel a little ill. The scene where she talks about education reform was written back in October, it’s actually one of the first things that I wrote for this fic, and now I feel like I should be meditating on what I’m covering a little bit more before diving further in. I have one more chapter already written, and I might post just that before taking some space. I’m not totally sure. I just... Hermione, in this story, is meant to be very ideologically radical in a way that is both extremely progressive and also, sometimes, self-aggrandizing. She’s high on her own passion, and it’s meant to occasionally hurt others. That’s the story. I’m not sure how to tell that respectfully in this moment.

[greenorangevioletgrass]

Ok I’ve settled and gathered my thoughts. Let’s talk Cherry.

For starters I normally keep a straight face when going into these kinds of movies, I mean I’ll cry and laugh when appropriate but I don’t always have physical reactions. Also I’ve heard many bts stories of Tom filming Cherry from extras and I read the book and the screenplay and obviously not everything made the final cut, stuff was cut out at one point or another. Yet this movie took me away.

The critics are doing their job of being analyzing everything and ran Cherry right over but I respectfully disagree. The Russo’s and Tom tried something far from their status quo of marvel and took many creative liberties with acting, music choices, camera shots, you name it. Notably for me in part 1 there’s a magical chime playing when Emily’s on screen to represent that feeling of love that later evolves in the future parts and the voice over being constant really matches this quiet kid who’s mainly a follower finally finding a purpose in Emily and leading himself towards her. And the brief scene with Madison was a forced focused like they said in one article; I forgot where Tom was in the brief moment she was dancing around like a stripper, basking in lustful attention from surrounding men and it was a suffocating shot. It was perfect.

Then comes the later use of opera music that reminded me of well opera. They go for hours and the music just plays and you wonder when will this tragic tale end which is what you wonder as this guy’s life just gets worsened with every step he takes apparently. Also since Tom mentioned this is a future Cherry looking back on his life, the people who are frozen in brief moments work well as though you’re recalling a memory and you find the main focus of that memory and everything else didn’t matter as much.

Next there’s the camera shots that I at first didn’t like when watching the clips. For me that was in the doctors office where it briefly cuts to the doctors face almost awkwardly but in the movie Cherry’s noticeably suffering and jittery at every sudden sound so that shot flowed better in a fuller context. And I loved Ciara, people are saying it’s a movie directed by men in the end so she was sexualized but she does have a baby face and was dressed so innocently. I think it worked in her favor, to see innocence be ripped away of this sweet looking character partially by her own self destructive behavior and being treated like a helpless thing that hid under her white ribbon and pretty pink outfits.

And lastly Tom. I love Tom, that’s what brought me to this movie. I know that goes against everything we’ve warned to others when choosing to watch but I was ready and then I wasn’t. When he cried, I cried because I can’t stand to see him like that. I didn’t fully separate himself from the character and that’s the Oscar winning trick there. Cherry isn’t named at all really, so yeah it’s one guys poor experience that might make you see yourself in him, or your friends or your family member(s) or for me, I saw Tom. I saw what could’ve happened if he wasn’t fortunate like he is today. I wept for him but I think that’s another point of view you could have seen if you didn’t see Tom, see a man who had potential but never knew how much greatness he could’ve achieved and where he will go now in his epilogue and hopefully find that he still has potential in his life. See a man that could represent your shadow side if you will.

There’s my piece and I’m so proud of Tom that once COVID is over I swear I want to tell him myself in person and weep all over again. How good was it for a possible five star rating?

🍒🍒🍒🍒🍒

Woah, that's a wonderful take nonnie!

I did rewatch the movie again, and I was more ready to watch it just to enjoy it this time. I definitely did watch it to scrutinize the first time.

The movie is so fucking long tho, I partly think this might work better as a limited series??? like a 30-40min episode a chapter, maybe?

[starfaring-princelotor]

Third Sight

Summary: Black Paladin Lotor shows you his universe.

★ Disclaimer: I do not ship Lotura and I respectfully ask that this story to not be tagged as Lotura. This is a Lotor x Reader/Self-Insert OC story which is in no way related to Allura at all. Please be respectful of my chosen pairing. ★ 

Warnings: Blood, death, talk about slavery.

A/N: Tragna belongs to @legendofcarl

Touch Series: Part One___Part Two___Part Three___Part Four___Part Five

Taste Series: Part One___Part Two___Part Three___Part Four___Part Five

Sight Series: Part One___Part Two___Part Three ___Part Four

“May I join you?

You couldn’t turn to look at him. Not yet, not when that voice ringing in your ears told you that he was asking you a question and you should answer like the respectable doctor you are. But...it wasn’t Lotor. He wasn’t the Lotor you knew, the one you struggled with, learned with, kissed. After a few seconds, you looked over your shoulder as eyes dragged up the length of his body, from his boots to his face, taking note of every miniscule different thing about him.

He was no longer dressed in his Black Paladin suit. Instead, he wore fine clothing dyed in the Empire’s colors, the bright blue and orange lining his physique sharply. You never realized that a cape would look quite fitting on him, but somehow, it made Lotor seem much more regal. Much more...royal. And wrapped around his cranium was a crown that you haven’t seen before, not even on Zarkon.

It glowed a faint purple with specks of black dotted on the diamonds. It was respect. Lotor radiated respect. And yet, that look in his eyes...the one he was giving you now, it was vastly contrasting his aura. He was...was he worried? Cautious? Unsure of how to approach you? Uncomfortable?

Yes. All the above.

He saw the disappointment in your eyes when you stared back at him. He wasn’t the man you were hoping for and, nonetheless, it must’ve been a slap in the face to see him standing before you now. Lotor knows this surprise was not one you were expecting and, after speaking to Kylan, it was no wonder you gave him the cold shoulder. No, not a cold shoulder. Just...not confident how you should see him, this other Lotor from a different reality.

“It’s a free universe,” you said, facing the endless stars once more, “For now.”

Better than a straight up rejection. He will take it.

Lotor folded his hands behind his back and took his place by your side, gazing out into the dark space. It was odd, now that he thought about it. This reality had similarities like his own. For one, the stars were the same. The ship he was standing in, the same he grew up in as a child. But he had to remember, this wasn’t his reality. He came here with a mission, with open hands hoping that Sven’s information would help them.

“Thank you,” he started, to which you only silently stared ahead, “for not opening fire on us considering what has transpired with your Paladins.”

“Peace first,” you responded with your arms crossing over your chest, “That’s what Kylan told me Alteans believe in.”

Lotor slowly nodded in agreement, “Yes, peace first, though I believe that may have a different meaning depending on who you talk to.”

Or, rather, do you really believe in peace first? Yes, you were angry when you saw those rainbow of colors on those suits. It’s been two years. Two years. It took two damn years to find results. From hiding, running, always looking over your back when you felt Haggar’s eyes haunting you, being overly cautious when a sound was out of place.

Voltron betrayed not just you, but the entire universe.

And how many innocent souls have perished in the blessed messiah’s absence? How many times did you teeter between numbness from stress and numbness from lack of care? You weren’t aware of yourself as much as you should have. And it showed. This was just you. How many other planets, other people, are experiencing the same trauma or worse?

And you hated Voltron for it. You were back on your bullshit grief because one war wasn’t enough for you to experience. Add another, but this time, do it alone. Peace first. Fucking liars. Never again. Peace was never an option, apparently. Not anymore, not when the Defenders of the Universe didn’t live up to their title.

“Freedom. I believe in freedom. Or as close as I can get to it,” you explained, forgoing peace in exchange for having free will.

What was the answer to ending war? Peace? Or freedom?

“Then we have a common goal in mind. The universe I came from has no freedom, no peace.” Lotor’s words were heavy, shoulders slumping slightly at the weight of them, “I came here seeking allies, and I found refuge with Kylan and those left from New Altea, though I see that the war here is faring no better.”

You remained silent. He and his crew have been here for a week now, discussing plans with Kylan about the war here, the war over there, and what can be done for both realities. It should have shocked you that other realities even existed, but after that fiasco with Allura and Hira? The excitement was short lived. Lotor arriving as he did, however, was wholly unexpected.

Partially because it was Lotor and partially because, with his arrival, that could only mean one thing. War was spreading, not just in his universe, but to this one, too. It meant that now you were facing a battle on both ends. It didn't take a genius to put two and two together. It also didn't take a genius to know that you and the New Altea were severely lacking in defending themselves and others.

You haven't heard from the Coalition. Nor the Blades of Marmora. Then again, you weren't exactly reaching out to them in the first place. You can't imagine they would believe a word you say when they placed so much trust in Voltron, in the Princess. Considering they just started viewing the Empire as allies, the odds were already stacked against you if you arrived and told them what happened.

Well, which enemy would you want to be a prisoner of?

“Kylan told me that we would aid you with one condition,” your arms tightened, an act that did not go unforeseen by Lotor’s eyes, “You think you can really bring the Emperor back?”

“I can find him, yes. He and I have the same quintessence. With my command over magic and the science created here, the chances are good that my team will be able to return him to you.”

Yes. That was the plan, to use his own quintessence and the samples you stored from long ago to find Emperor Lotor. Now, whether he was alive or not...

“Would you tell me about your universe?”

Lotor let out a dry chuckle, “Are you asking about the universe or what side I am on?”

“I suppose both,” you admitted, “Everything that happened here, with the Galra and Alteans, Earth knows nothing about it. Yet, we were dragged into it anyways. Allura told us only half the truth, and that was after the lions chose their Paladins. And still, I feel like after all this time, I don't know the whole history. What side are we really on? What are we really getting ourselves into?”

Lotor turned his head to face your profile, taking note of your exhausted expression. You were cold. Tired, pushed beyond your limit and you didn't know where it ended. If it ended at all.

“If we’re getting involved in another war, I think we deserve to at least know how it started. Deserve to see the whole picture, not just one side.”

“I hear you, dear,” straightening up, he began unfastening his gloves, “And I agree. I have told Kylan of the situation, but it is only fair those fighting by our side knows, too. Come.”

Lotor held an arm out towards the seats, offering you to take first pick for the long session ahead. Memory sharing should have been a fantastic new tool, something you should have felt excited to learn about and command at your own fingertips, but lately that spark was gone. Now, you were just on edge with anything foreign to you. Lotor saw this nervousness flash over your face and, after the both of you sat besides each other, he offered you a comforting smile.

It looked genuine, almost too genuine compared to the man you served for a short amount of time.

“Are you ready, doctor?”

You nodded yet flinched just the slightest when Lotor shifted his hands up to your face. Calloused fingertips skimmed over your cheekbones before resting at the side of your temples. The touch, it burned, but you had a feeling that what you were going to see would be worth it.

“Relax,” Lotor whispered calmly, “Tell me to stop and I will do as you say.”

Seeing magic happen was completely different from feeling it. What looked like lightning bolts actually felt like cold water. Specks of light felt softer than a blade of grass. It varied by the user’s command. Right now? Lotor’s magic tickled your nerves with warmth, but not heat. Not like a fire. Rather, a comforting warmth. A sense of safety, one you have not felt in a long, long time.

Your eyes slid close the same time he shut his own.

It wasn’t like watching a movie. Or reflecting on your own thoughts. Right now, in the middle of space, you saw Lotor study your face from a mere foot away. Your eyes drifted away from him, more intrigued by the never-ending galaxy which surrounded you two. With Kylan, the only force you felt in your mind was a faint prodding pressure. Here, you felt like...yourself. Perhaps a little lighter on your feet. Floating with the stars would do that to a person.

“Where are we?”

“Is it not obvious?” Lotor asked, also taking the time to look around this marvelous place, “This is my mind space. Or rather, part of it. We are in the safer areas right now.”

The magic he learned, he adapted from his reality, must have been different than what Kylan had taught you. Lotor held out his hand, palm up in offering, to which you hesitantly laid yours on top. A gentle curve of his lips greeted you in thanks. It was inviting, enchanting, and had you met him in another lifetime, perhaps you wouldn’t feel conflicted about seeing such an honest expression on his face.

Lotor softly laid his other hand atop of yours, an act of reassurance, and the scenery around you two changed. Slowly, from the dark shades of deep space, to a sunny, almost utopia image of a world. Tall, silver, gleaming buildings towered over you. All around, there were Alteans and Galras gathered at what you assumed was the...was that the Castle of Lions? Was this…

“Citizens of Altea! What a joyous day it is! The Ancients have blessed us with the tools for a brighter future!”

You and Lotor were mingled within the crowd, but from the distance, even you could make out the form of King Alfor behind the podium. Besides him, there were 4 other people. Only one of them you knew, the Galra Emperor Zarkon. Except, here, he did not seem like the man you saw on the big screen. He seemed...kingly. Stoic, proud. Honored.

“Let us pay tribute those who perished by the comet by utilizing it to pave a road for peace and prosperity among the universe. With the help of the Galra Empire and my allies, we have the technology to leave a better life for you, your friends, and your family.”

At the word family, Zarkon’s gaze immediately fell upon Lotor. Or rather, a smaller Lotor. You two were behind him, watching this unfold from the outside. He was short, well-groomed, and bright eyed. It tugged at your heartstrings to see such innocence, something that was devoid of the Lotor you knew. And right besides him was a familiar princess.

Allura.

“Isn’t this wonderful, Lotor?” she smiled with inspiration radiating her features, “Your mother would be so happy.”

Yet, the young Prince’s smile didn’t quite reach his eyes. The arrival of this miracle comet came way too late.

“I know you miss her. Just know that she loved you, Lotor,” she placed a hand on his shoulder, making him stiffen at the touch, “With all her heart.”

The surrounding changed then, everyone and everything falling into dust. A new scene appeared, this time with Lotor and his father. The Prince was older here, cheekbones more defined and no longer plump with baby fat. Both of them were eating a meal in privacy, no one else was around. But most importantly, they were smiling. They were happy.

It was surreal to witness.

“ - And that is when we formed Voltron for the first time. The Rift creatures were no match against our combined forces,” Zarkon ended the story with a flourished swing of his arm, as if showing Lotor exactly how the battle ended, “For now. I do not doubt there will be more, but with Voltron, Altea is protected.”

Zarkon gave his wife a final promise that he would do so. Protect Altea, protect part of Lotor’s home so that one day he can learn about his heritage. A child of two worlds, she said. And, his honor as a father, as an Emperor, he would do it. Uniting and ending the war between the other four kingdoms was the best decision he ever agreed to.

Lotor smirked then pushed aside the vegetables on the plate, “And the universe, no? King Alfor told me of the new title. ‘Defenders of the Universe’ does sound fetching, father.”

This. This Zarkon enjoyed. Bonding with his son, sharing stories of his battles, empowering his child to be strong. Or just...proud of himself, of where he came from. He was of the starfaring race. Whether his choice was to stay as a Prince or explore the unknown universe, Zarkon always wanted to make sure Lotor knew where home was. Discovery was in his parents blood, though on two entirely different areas.

“Mother would have liked seeing you with the Black Lion. Maybe even add a few upgrades to it herself,” the Prince dabbed his mouth with a napkin, making sure to mind his manners.

“She always did have a better eye for fashion than Alfor,” Zarkon grinned then paused in thought, “My son, why don’t you and I take a ride in the lion after dinner? We can go gather those stardust in jars that you love so much.”

“Father, please. I have not done that since I was but a child,” his cheeks flushed just a bit, much to his father’ amusement, “Besides, you are a Paladin now. The leader of Voltron.”

And the Galra Empire. Zarkon knew what he was truly asking. Do you even have time to waste on family cruises?

“Hm. You’re right. I am a busy man now,” the Emperor agreed with a nod, “But I will always have time to spend with my son. Let the officials note this as...a training exercise of sorts.”

Lotor chuckled then sliced a piece of tragna smoothly, handing one plate to his father then serving himself a slightly bigger piece. He cut one more and put it to where his mother would have been seated if she were alive. An odd Galra custom to believe that the deceased do not disappear into nothing. It was the memory of them that mattered, Zarkon said once.

The Prince stared at his piece, lost in his own mind, “Father. I have a...question. About my mother.”

Zarkon only gave a nod for him to continue.

“How did she die?”

Now, he had Lotor’s full attention. What a question to answer. And how does he even answer it? The truth will hurt him, but hiding it will hurt him even more down the road. Zarkon put his fork down, debating if he should hold his son’s hand or not. For a sensitive topic, he thinks yes, it would be best.

Zarkon was a father first before an Emperor. He can not protect him from everything, but he very will damn try.

He let out a heavy sigh then gently laid his hand over Lotor’s, “Son. Your mother was ill, long before we had you. That illness is what took her, not your birth. Do you understand?”

Lotor’s fingers remained still, thoughts fully comprehending what his father explained. He knows about how his mother died, from childbirth complications. But...there had to be more to it. Why was he the exception? He had friends who were of mixed races. Was he one of the rare few where his life started with the death of his mother? Was he one of the rare few who was born with silver hair rather than the dark blue of Honerva?

“Was it...Father, I must know. Was it the quintessence?”

The older Galra squeezed his son’s hand, shaking his head at how unbelievably perceptive he was, “Yes. Your mother was one of the smartest Alteans I’ve ever met. She never once backed down from what lied ahead. Always questioning why and why not. Seeing how far the magic of quintessence can be pushed. You know, she was also chosen by Oriande. She had the infinite power of knowledge hidden behind that beautiful face of hers.”

Now, Zarkon’s voice lowered just a bit in shame, “But sometimes, son, the pursuit of knowledge has its obstacles. As with anything in life, you must know when enough is enough. You must know what is truly important to you deep down.”

That left a bad taste in his mouth, but now, Lotor knew a bit more about his mother than he did before.

“Now. Come, help me finish this tragna. Narti made this, no? I shall send a worthy token of my gratitude tomorrow.”

You turned towards Lotor, watching the scene unfold with a bit of uneasiness stirring in your stomach. This was...intimate. A little too intimate, but necessary according to him. If you had to see this, then there is a good reason behind it. As innocent as it seems now, you couldn’t help but dread what his past foretold.

And that was where it started again.

“This is the 67th patient to arrive contaminated with the Rift creature’s essence,” Lotor passed the container restraining the small, black blob to Allura, “This is not normal. I thought Voltron was working on sealing the tear?”

“They have, though these creatures are arriving at an alarmingly fast rate,” Allura replied, “I’ve been doing a little research about these and those who arrive infected. Some of hosts are surprisingly able to tolerate the creature’s presence better than others. We have to find out why, for Altea’s sake.”

“Perhaps it would be wise to start evacuating those closest to the comet’s site. For their safety. I am sure my father would be willing to give refuge to your citizens until all of this has been resolved.”

“I don’t think that will be necessary, Lotor. With your mother’s research about quintessence and what we are learning about the Rift, the beings coming out of it, and with Voltron defending us for now, together we can find a way to peacefully cease this invasion,” she countered, making Lotor click his tongue, clearly unhappy with her answer.

“I implore you to reconsider. We may continue with the research only after those in danger have been relocated,” he placed a hand over the patient’s head, “Altea may not be able to weather this storm.”

“Is that doubt against my kingdom or my father’s fit to rule?”

Lotor recoiled slightly at that sudden icy venom directed at him, “No, Allura, it is neither. I am simply...concerned.”

“You needn’t worry about Altea. Our way of living is always peace first. We will persevere.”

She was a proud Princess. Strong for her people, just like King Alfor and Queen Melanor. And perhaps...just like Honerva. Allura’s eyes focused on the spasming essence floating in the capsule before walking out of the recovery wing, leaving Lotor alone with the comatose patient. Their face looked drained. Aged, like someone was sucking the very life force out of them.

It was an unsettling image to witness and you were glad your guide changed the scenery all together. Though, this was getting more and more morbid by the second. This time, when Lotor revealed to you a part of his history, you became overwhelmed with the sound of death and screaming all around. Your eyes widened in shock, heart pumping into overdrive as that traumatic stress urged you to hide. Get out of the line of fire. You are a battle medic.

War. This was war.

Bodies littered the ground, open wounded and watering the dirt with potent blood. You could hear it all. You could feel it all. You could...see it all. Emotionless Alteans firing upon civilians on Daibazaal, showing no mercy on any who fled for safety. Galra soldiers hollering battle cries as they mowed down foe by foe, lethal weapon obeying their masters orders. In the distance, ships were fleeing from the planet, hoping to make it out of the atmosphere before they became casualties.

“Capture as many as you can!”

That was when you realized all of this you were witnessing? This wasn’t an execution. This was an invasion. And leading that invasion was none other than Allura. She was in battle armor, similar to that of King Alfor’s, but the look on her face was one of dedication, of righteousness aimed to win a battle for the greater good, for vengeance. For her kingdom. You’ve seen that look before on both sides of the coin.

“Find Zarkon! He murdered King Alfor! I want him alive!”

Lotor stood watching from the balcony as his home burned in destruction and chaos. He saw Allura, he heard the orders, and the worry stirring in his stomach nearly made him want to puke. He was panicking as he rushed to his parent’s quarters, but he was abruptly yanked aside by a familiar man. 

Sendak, ever loyal Sendak. Zarkon’s top commander was wounded, fur matted with dried blood and an eye bleeding too profusely to be considered safe. Panic was clearly stricken over the Prince’s face, not only for himself, but for his father and now, for Sendak.

“What has happened? Sendak, I must - “ Lotor shook his head, trying to keep himself focused, “We must find my father and escape. Make haste before the castle becomes overrun - “

“Sire, I’m afraid we can’t do that. Your father has ordered me to take you to the Black Lion and flee,” he quickly explained, keeping a firm grip on Lotor’s elbow when he tried to wretch himself away, “My Prince, we have to go! Now!”

“I am NOT leaving my father!”

“He has been captured! Daibazaal has been conquered. We cannot save him with our current forces,” Sendak gripped both of Lotor’s shoulders, making him face the battle-worn Galra, “Listen to me. Zarkon would’ve wanted us to retreat for now. You know this.”

Prince Lotor stood stock still, his mind split between doing what he must and doing what he wanted. All he had left was his father. The Empire was going to be left in ruins. But he couldn’t leave his home like this. He couldn't leave without his remaining family. Painful tears welled up in his young eyes when he realized what he decided then and there.

“Lotor, I swore to your father I would protect you,” Sendak implored, the hidden meaning not going unseen by the prince, “Don’t make me do this.”

“You need not to,” Lotor blinked, the streak of wetness falling down his cheeks in finality, “To the hangar. Quickly.”

He escaped with the Black Lion and Sendak. The ships that made it off of Daibazaal fled to distant ally planets in hope to seek refuge there. Lotor didn’t hear from his friends again, not for a very long time. He would not see the radiance of his home until the war was over. And that day, under the weight of witnessing the destruction of the Galra Empire, of the scattered citizens depending on him, Lotor swore he would end the fighting.

And that was why the Black Lion chose him.

Then, everything faded to black. Everything was dark and you...you felt a wave of sadness wash over you. But it wasn’t your feelings, it was Lotor’s. He was staring into void, distant, and crying. Not a single sob escaped him, but you saw the tears stain his stoic face. When he felt your gaze on him, he cleared his throat to hide his open display of depression.

“My apologies. It is...still hard to think about. Seeing it all again,” Lotor took a deep breath, “It does not feel good.”

He didn't expect you to say anything. Nor did he expect to feel your pinky finger cautiously brush against his. It...tingled your skin, to be honest, like you were holding a troubled friend’s hand. You trusted him to bring you here, now he was to trust you to bear through it all again. It was the least he could do for now. Seeing his home, never getting to know what truly happened to his father, it all left him feeling a rush of emotions. Anger. Sadness. And yes, even cowardice.

Lotor refocused himself, threaded his fingers through yours, and willed his memories to surface once more. One last time, before he would return with you to reality. Now, you remember this chamber. The AI room, not at all dissimilar to the one Hunk and Pidge calibrated at the Galra headquarters. Only this time, it wasn’t you looking into the ocean. It was an image of Zarkon facing his son, Lotor.

Rather, Lotor dressed in Black Paladin armor. Zarkon was smiling in utmost pride.

“Narti is stable, for now,” the Paladin informed the hologram, which was glitching sporadically, successfully destroying the imagery of realism, “We managed to safely remove the hoktril and extract the Rift creature from her nervous system. Although...it came with a price I can not forgive myself for making her pay.”

“My son, you saved her life.”

“At the cost of her sight.”

Silence weighted heavily between the two. Of course, Prince Lotor was filling in very big shoes now and he wasn't sure if he was ready to wear that crown. He was no Emperor. Not yet. Not until he could reunite Voltron to its true title of Defenders of the Universe, starting with Daibazaal. Starting with all the enslaved planets forced to lose their free will by the evil abomination of the hoktril.

Lotor sighed despondently then sat on the imitation grassy fields of his home with Zarkon following suit, “Father...my mother’s research was about quintessence and the power it contains. I read it before, but if there was something buried, I need to know about it.”

His father remained silent, smile dropping slightly as he knew what his son was going to ask him.

“What did she really discover about quintessence?” Lotor whispered, partly dreading the answer from what he has witnessed on a first hand basis, “I need to know. I need to know so I can understand how to counter this...this poison the Rift creatures are leaving behind.”

“...Very well. You deserve to know,” Zarkon’s gaze fell to the single blooming moonflower at his feet,” Lotor, before anything, I want you to know I had intended to tell you this in person when the time was right. However...as time went on and as I raised you to cherish both worlds from which you came from, I cowardly kept delaying the inevitable. I realize now it was...it was wrong of me to do so.”

The Prince turned to face his father’s profile, waiting for him to continue.

“I am sorry. But if there’s anything I can do to help now, then let this information be the tool you need,” the AI plucked the flower from the ground, gazing upon it with a far-off look, “Honerva discovered one of the more darker qualities of quintessence. Although every living being has it within their body, Alteans specifically have a higher capacity to withhold the magical element for a certain amount of time. Does that capacity have a limit?”

Now, shame flashed over Zarkon’s face.

“Your mother was set to find out. King Alfor forbade her from using other Alteans to be her test subjects, resulting in her experimenting on herself. ‘For the best, most accurate results,’ she said. She did this for many years, before we even knew you were conceived. I allowed her to infuse herself with quintessence, infuse myself with it, as well. I was, dear me, Lotor, I loved your mother so much. I would do anything for her. Cross galaxies for her.”

He placed the flower back on the ground, letting it live the rest of its life on the Earth it was born in. All of this he was telling his son, he didn't realize how much it would affect him, fake AI or not.

“I became ill. We both did. I told her I didn’t want to continue. She stopped. I told her that she shouldn’t continue. She kept going for...for so long. I couldn’t stop her, my son. I loved your mother, but I couldn’t save her from herself. It wasn’t until she brought the news that she was pregnant with you did she quit her experiments, but by that time it was too late. She learned something new about quintessence.”

Zarkon placed a hand over his eyes, finding that words were becoming harder and harder to speak.

“The quintessence didn’t poison her. She reached her capacity. Her body was failing, unable to handle too much of the raw energy coursing through her veins. What she thought would make her stronger, keep her healthier, ended up exhausting her body to the point where she couldn't handle the overload of quintessence. Too much, it was too much for her, and I begged Alfor to save her, to save you. But the Ancients at Oriande are life givers, not life savers.”

Lotor had never seen his father cry before. Galra rarely cry, but this? This was not just crying. This was grieving. This was an Emperor who failed his wife and no amount of tears would be enough to resolve his pain.

“Alfor could only save one. You or your mother. I chose you. It was what Honerva would’ve wanted. The woman comatose in the bed was not the woman I fell in love with, I cherished, I dedicated my life to. By the time you were due, she was nothing but a ghost of the person I remembered. She was sick. Her mind disappeared along with her beauty. She wasn’t able to form a coherent sentence. The quintessence aged her and, ultimately, took her life.”

This was Zarkon’s greatest shame. Allowing his wife’s ambitions to steal her away from the future she had with him. The family she could have had with him. He knew this, Lotor knew this. And from his point of view, he...he did hate his father for hiding this from him for so long. What he thought was mere childbirth complications was something much more sinister. Now, however, now all the pieces seem to be falling into place. But he couldn’t help wonder...

Did his mother ever actually love him? Love the future she could have had with Zarkon? Would Lotor forgive his father for keeping this secret from him? Could Lotor forgive his father?

Maybe. But right now, he would have to find him in person and save the universe first.

“I did research on these Rift creatures for a bit with Allura. We learned that quintessence is essentially their main energy source. They rely on it. It goes without saying that they are attracted to places where a massive amount of quintessence is concentrated,” the Prince’s brows furrowed together, “Father, I know what Allura is doing. She is injecting people with quintessence and using the Rift creatures to do her bidding through the hoktril.”

Lotor stood up to his feet, the realization dawned on him that this is the entire reason why she wanted Voltron. Why she wanted that comet. Allura not only wanted to spread “peace” among their universe, but to every universe. To her, with the unlimited amount of quintessence in every living soul, this was her solution to achieving tranquility amongst all beings. And to do that, she needed to capture them.

But...Lotor had to wonder now, how many slaves couldn’t withstand the quintessence exposure? How many perished before truly losing their free will to the needle? And how much time did he have before Voltron would be cornered and forced to bend to her cruelty?

Prince Lotor needed help, he needed more than Voltron.

The feeling of being pulled out of water covered your senses. What was once a picture of Zarkon and Lotor sitting in a peaceful meadow of grass and flowers was now completely washed away. You were back to reality, Lotor’s chest close to your face, and your hands? Both were clasped tightly around his, hanging tight as if you were going to fall into a pit of darkness and never be able to return.

But from what you’ve seen? With your own two eyes? You might as well be plunged into the depths once again.

Body trying to realign itself and calm down from the horrors you just witnessed was taking longer than you expected. Sitting was too much. You slowly fell to the floor, Lotor following suit to simply tether you to the truth. Tether you to what was real. The question was answered, but now, that weight on your shoulders grew claws to embed deeply into your soul. This wasn’t just about Earth. About the Galra Empire. About the universe.

This was about your reality and every reality possible.

Lotor eased you to lean against his firm body while he slid his cloak over your shoulders to keep you warm. That’s what you needed, you needed something warm to keep you here. The galaxy, the stars behind you two, the universe. You couldn’t bear this alone. You couldn’t bear this now. And this man besides you wasn't your Lotor, but he was suffering the same unbearable responsibility on his heart.

“Bring him back.”

Lotor needed a few minutes to recover from his memories before fully hearing your demand.

“Please, you must bring him back.”

You were shaking.

[just-castlevania-imagines]

More Traded Secrets ~ Alucard x Reader~

The girls are appalled by how the men talked about them but Alucard and Trevor Overhear them talking not so clean themselves...So they get back at them with a little surprise.

“I can’t believe that Trevor would talk about me like that.” Sypha said, crossing her arms and looking off to the ground. The group had stopped in a small town on their way back to the castle. You had no clue where Alucard and Trevor went but you and Sypha stayed with the wagons and the horses. “How are you not mad?” “Well, I don’t want to lose Trevor or Alucard as friends. Also, Alucard was very upfront with everything he said.” “Well, I still think it’s rude.” She said, hugging herself. “ I can’t even look at Trevor the same... Is that all he imagines when he looks at me?” “I don’t think it’s all he sees. I think it’s just something he’s thought about before.” You said, putting a hand on her shoulder and attempting to comfort her. “I’m sure you’ve looked at Trevor and thought a few things yourself.” You teased, making her blush a little. “Well, I do like looking at his biceps...They just..bulge so nicely....What about you?” “M-Me?” “Yeah, what have you thought? About Alucard?” “His Chest.” You said bluntly. “You see that deep v necked shirt he always wears. He could melt glaciers with that clevage.” “You’re so bad.” She said, giggling crazily. “But I have always wondered...” Sypha trailed off, giggling dying down a little. “Who do you think is bigger?” “WHoa, Sypha,” You panicked a little, looking around to make sure no one was listening to you. You started giggling too, now thinking a little too much about it. She just smiled, listening for your answer. “....Of course it’s Alucard.-” “You think so?” You both continued to talk out your little fantasies and make a case for which man was better endowed but you were unaware that someone was overhearing them.

You and Sypha stayed by the wagon until the men eventually returned. They seemed to be getting along a lot better than they were before. You and Sypha looked awkwardly at them and their fake looking smiles. “...Boys?” “We found something in this small town worth exploring.” Alucard started, sounding a bit too friendly. “There’s natural springs that a local Inn built walls around and are opening as baths.” “We thought that we could spend a night at the inn, enjoy the springs, salvage this trip and all that shit.” Trevor said, happily. You and Sypha looked at one another but you couldn’t deny the facts. They were getting along...even after that dreadful barfight in the last town. “..S-Sure,” Sypha started. “It’s good to see that you both have gotten along.” “Yeah, a hot bath sounds nice...”

You checked into the Inn just after sunset, the ower going on and on about the natural springs. It seemed to be the only thing the town had going for it. You walked down the hall that lead outside, seeing the wall that seperated the town from the springs. You looked at the steamy water and even Sypha marveled at the sight. “This is going to be so relaxing, Y/N-” “Well then, Hop in!” You and Sypha both squealed, turnign around to see Trevor and Alucard standing behind you in thin robes.  It then clicked to you that you walked down one hallway to get here and didn’t see a branching path. “What are you two doing here?!” Sypha scolded. “Oh, did we forget to mention that the bath isn’t seperated?” “Oh, My,” Alucard said, feigning innocence. “I think we forgot to tell them.” “You Assholes..” You started, shaking your head and folding your arms. “We are NOT getting in there with you guys.” “Fine,” Trevor shrugged, throwing his robe off his shoulders. You both flinched, immediately covering your eyes. “I’m getting in.” “I think I’ll join you.” Alucard said, tossing his robe to the side as well. You and Sypha were still covering your eyes but you felt both men walk past you both to get to the spring. “We’re the only ones here ladies.” Trevor said playfully. “It’s just a bath.” “Exactly,” Alucard started. “You girls are acting like children.” the heard the water being displaced slightly and upon hearing it settled you both uncovered your eyes, holding your robes closed tightly.  You look down at them, narrowing your eyes at their smirking faces. Sypha looks like she’s trying not to freeze the hot springs. “Well?” Trevor asked, “Are you girls ready to relax?” “Turn around.” Sypha demanded. “I’m not getting in.” You said, backing up a little. “I can’t do it.” “You both are so childish. This is completely innocuous.” Alucard defended. “Did your parents not bathe with you when you were a child?” “They did but they were my parents! It’s a little different! Also I wasn’t a full grown woman back then!” You complained, unable to hide your nervousness and embarrassment. Alucard was living for it. “Alright,” Trevor said, “They closed their eyes when we got in... let’s give them the curtousy.” “Fine, we can turn around. If it will put them at ease.” “We’d be more at ease if you leave.” Sypha mumbled. they didn’t respond, turning to face the wall and leaving you girls to look at one another. Sypha scrunched her face uncomfortably and bit her lip. “...Should we?” “...Let’s just get this over with.”

When you and Sypha were properly submerged and they were turned back around it was basically the men just talking while you both squirmed uncomfortably. They were so nonchalant about this. “That’s probably why I don’t like squirrels.” Trevor said, finishing his story. “I have to admit, I wouldn’t trust them either then,” Alucard started. “But, I’ve never been wronged by squirrels.” “Not yet-” “This is weird.” Sypha started, staring off to the side.” I want to leave.” “What’s weird about it?” Trevor asked, which pissed off the speaker. “What’s weird? How about that earlier today I learn that you stare at me like a piece of meat and then you bring us to an open hot spring!” “Oh please,” Alucard said, “We can admire the female form and respectfully disregard nudity at the same time.” “Unlike you girls.” Trevor said “All you’re doing is making a big deal out of being naked.” “because you were talking about our bodies earlier today-” “And you were talking about us.” Alucard said, cutting you off. “and yet we didn’t hesitate.” You and Sypha burst into different shades of pink. The boys just smirked finalyl revealing their true plan. “.. You heard us?” Sypha asked, turning to Trevor. he shook his head. “Alucard heard you both. Left his coin purse in the wagon adn had to go get it.” “What an imagination you ladies have.” the vampire teased. “And we offer you the oppurtunity to see if your guesses about us are correct and you immediately closed your eyes.” “To be fair, I’m sure I’m bigger than him.” Trevor defended, making Alucard raise a brow. “Oh you think so?” “...Why don’t we ask the girls to judge?” “We can’t put them in such an uncomfortable position.” Alucard said bluntly, “That’s going too far.” “...It’s cause it’s not much to look at isn’t it-” “You’re awfully eager to be humiliated in front of the women.” Alucard snapped. You and Sypha were a little in awe... You were about to probably see something you were very curious about earlier today. they continued to argue and Sypha leaned to whisper to you. “,,S-Should we judge?” “This is a moral dilemma I was not expecting to get invovled in today...” “I-It’s just.. I want to but... What if trevor loses?” She said nervously. You couldn’t help but crack up a little. “That’s all you’re worried about?” “Of course. That’s the only reason I’m hesitating.” She admitted, giddy and excited.  “Well why don’t we prove that, Belmont,” You tuned back in, hearing Alucard’s challenge. “On 3, we stand up and see.” “Fine by me.” Trevor said, gripping the side of the pool. “Alright. Sypha, count.” “O-Oh! um...1..” She started, seeing Alucard preparing to stand up too, “..2...” They looked at each other like they were mortal enemies, both of them sure of the results and ready to prove it. “...3!”

“So,” Trevor said, leading the walk back to the room you rented for the night, linking arms with Sypha. “Tonight was interesting.” He said happily. Alucard rolled his eyes, holding your hand for the walk back. “...You know size isn’t important-” “I know Alucard,” You said, rubbing his arm. “What difference does half an inch make-” “All the fucking difference.” Trevor said smugly. Alucard hissed, most liekly very pissed off. “Eat shit, Belmont.” “Please, don’t fight.” You pleaded. “I..am still very much impressed.” You whispered shyly, hoping that only he heard you. He smirked, putting his arm on your side. “Well..Once we get back to the room..and Sypha and Trevor fall asleep... why don’t you let me impress you further?” “We can hear you both!” Trevor complained loudly. Making both you and Alucard chuckle. “God, They’re going to fuck like we’re not here.” “... We might have to spend the night back at the wagon..”

[kentremendousblog]

Tom and Lin-Manuel: An Appreciation/Jealous Rant

Every writer has a golden period – a chunk of time when her brain is ripest, when the veins he is tapping are the richest, when the ideas, big and small, spill out over the sides of the bucket instead of having to be patiently collected like drops of rain off a leaf. This is true for songwriters, playwrights, novelists, screenwriters, anyone who writes anything in any genre. Go look at John Hughes’s IMDb page and marvel at his golden period, which I would bookend as 1983-1990. It’s outrageous. He wrote Vacation, Mr. Mom, Sixteen Candles, The Breakfast Club, Weird Science, Pretty in Pink, Ferris Bueller’s Day Off, Some Kind of Wonderful, Planes, Trains, and Automobiles, Uncle Buck, and Home Alone in eight years. Eight years?! That’s absurd.

But then look at his next 20 years. You won’t find one movie that is better than the worst one he wrote in those seven years. The vein ran dry. It always does. That’s just the deal.

Tom Petty’s golden period never ended. Or, at least, the silver periods on either side of his golden period were seemingly infinite. No matter where you think he peaked -- Full Moon Fever, or Wildflowers, or Damn the Torpedoes -- the decades on either side were wonderful. He was great from the moment he released his first album in 1977 to the day he died last month. For forty years he wrote, and wrote, and wrote, and the songs he wrote were good or great or amazing.

Tom Petty wrote “Breakdown” and “American Girl” in 1977. He wrote “You Don’t Know How it Feels” seventeen years later, in 1994. He wrote “You Got Lucky” in 1982, “King’s Highway” in 1992, “The Last DJ” in 2002. He wrote “I Won’t Back Down,” “Runnin’ Down a Dream,” Free Fallin’,” “Love is a Long Road,” “A Face in the Crowd,” Yer So Bad,” and “The Apartment Song,” and “Depending on You,” all in 1989, and they were all on the same album, and that’s absurd.

He wrote “Stop Draggin’ My Heart Around” in 1981 and “Big Weekend” in 2006. He wrote every song on Wildflowers – and they are all great – in or around 1994. He wrote fifty other great songs I haven’t named yet, like “Don’t Come Around Here No More” and “Jammin Me.” He wrote great songs you've heard a million times, and great songs you've maybe never heard, like "Billy the Kid" (1999) and "Walls" (1996) which was buried on the soundtrack to She's the One.  He took a break from the Heartbreakers and casually released “End of the Line” and “Handle With Care” and “She’s My Baby” with the Traveling Wilburys in 1989-90. He wrote “Refugee” in 1980 and “I Should Have Known It” in 2010. Is there any rock and roll songwriter alive who wrote two songs that good, 30 years apart? (Paul McCartney wrote “Hey Jude” in 1968, and only 12 years later he wrote “Wonderful Christmas Time,” which is so bad it nearly retroactively undid “Hey Jude.”)

He wrote about rock and roll things, like ’62 Cadillacs, getting out of this town, and dancing with Mary Jane. He wrote about love and loss and heartbreak. He wrote legitimately funny jokes, and moribund memories, and personal narratives, and imaginative flights of fancy. One of his characters calls his father his “old man” and it somehow isn’t cheesy. He was from Florida and California and wrote about both of them, and every time I’m on Ventura Boulevard I think of vampires, because the images he wrote are indelible. 

Petty didn’t just write songs directed at women, like most rock stars. He wrote about women, and he wrote for women, and he wrote with women. He treated the women in his songs as lovingly and respectfully as he treated the men. He cared about them as much, he spent as much time thinking about them, and he liked them as much, and all of that is rare.

He wrote simply, but not boringly. He made his characters three-dimensional, somehow, in a matter of seconds. There’s a famous (probably apocryphal) story about Hemingway bragging he could write an entire novel in six words, then writing: “For sale: baby shoes, never worn.” I prefer the 18-word novel Petty wrote as the first verse to “Down South” –

Headed back down south Gonna see my daddy's mistress Gonna buy back her forgiveness Pay off every witness

When I was working on Parks and Recreation, whenever we needed a song to score an important moment in Leslie Knope’s life, we chose a Tom Petty song. It started with “American Girl,” when her biggest career project came to fruition. It was “Wildflowers” when she said goodbye to her best friend. It was “End of the Line” at the moment the show ended. For the seven seasons of our show, Tom Petty was the writer we trusted to explain how our main character was feeling, because he wrote so much, so well, for so long.

*******

It seems like a joke, Hamilton -- a joke in a TV show where one of the characters is a struggling New York actor, and is always dragging his friends to his terrible plays. Like Joey in Friends. There’s an episode of Friends where Joey is in a terrible musical called like Freud!, about Sigmund Freud, and you get to see some of it, and it’s predictably terrible. Freud! the musical is arguably a better idea than Hamilton the musical.

I’m far from the first person to say this -- I’m probably somewhere around the millionth person to write about Hamilton, and the maybe 500,000th to make this particular point, but it needs to be said -- a hip-hop Broadway musical about the founding fathers is an astoundingly terrible idea. Lin-Manuel Miranda should never have written it. As soon as he started to write it, he should’ve said to himself, “What the fuck am I doing?!” and stopped. And after he got halfway through, he should’ve junked it, gotten really drunk, and moved on with his life, and made his wife and friends swear to never mention the weird six months where he was trying to write a hip-hop musical about Alexander Hamilton. I literally guarantee you that when Lin-Manuel Miranda first told his friends what he was writing, every one of them reacted with at best a frozen smile, and at worst a horrified recoiling. Some of them might have been outwardly encouraging – “sounds awesome bud! Go get 'em!” But then later, alone, they would call each other and say What the fuck is he doing?

There is a moment, in Hamilton, when what you are watching overwhelms you. (It’s not the same moment for everyone, but most everyone has one, I suspect.) It’s the moment when the enormity, the complexity, the meaning of it, the entirety of it, overpowers you, and you realize that what you are experiencing is new – new both in your specific life, and new, like, on Earth.  The first time I saw it, that moment was a line in the middle of “Yorktown.” Hamilton sang the line And so the American experiment begins / With my friends all scattered to the winds, and I burst into tears in a way I hadn’t since I was 10 and a baseball went through a guy’s legs in the World Series. Something about how casually he says that – And so the American experiment begins – just settled over me, like a collapsing tent, and this thing I was watching wasn’t in front of me, it was everywhere around me, and it was exhilarating and transformative.

(If I could put this part in a footnote, I would, but I don’t know how to, so: I should mention that I am very far from a musical theater aficionado. I have seen maybe eight musicals in my life. Not only did I not expect to cry, hard, during Hamilton, I did not expect to enjoy it. I saw it like a week after it opened on Broadway, kind of on a whim, knew nothing about it, and the last thing I said to my wife, as the lights went down, was: “We’ll leave at intermission.”)

The second time I saw it, that moment came much earlier (I knew what I was getting into, this time, so I was more ready to be subsumed). It came barely three minutes in, when the entire cast of the show, in a piece of choreography that can best be referred to as “badass,” all walk down to the very front of the stage and stand, shoulder to shoulder, and sing very loudly about how Alexander Hamilton never learned to take his time. The cast has, to this point, trickled on stage, slowly, one by one, telling you Hamilton’s origin story, and then suddenly there they all are, all of them -- maybe 20? 50? It seems like 1000? – as close to the audience as they can get, and they are every size and ethnicity and gender, and their voices are loud, and I thought to myself, oh my God, this is a cast of people descended from every nation on Earth, all singing about the foundations of the American experience, and yes I “knew” that, intellectually, but holy shit, now that I see them all, I know it, like in my stomach, I understand it, and what a thing that is.

The third time I saw Hamilton, that moment was during “It’s Quiet Uptown,” when this enormous, sprawling, improbable, otherworldly, multi-ethnic, historical, art tornado presses pause on all of its historical-cultural-ethno-sociological-artistic investigations, and spends four and a half spare minutes with a couple who are grieving an unimaginable tragedy.  Specifically, it was the lines

Forgiveness Can you imagine? Forgiveness Can you imagine?

What a thing to do, for your characters -- to give them four and a half minutes in the middle of an enormous, sprawling, historical swirl, to just be sad. What a piece of writing that is.

(Again, should be a footnote, but: as long as I’m talking about writers here, I should point out that if the late Harris Wittels were alive, he would, at this moment, text me and hit me with a “humblebrag” for writing about how I have seen Hamilton three times, and he would be right. Miss you Harris!)

In the hundreds of hours of my life I have spent thinking about Hamilton since I first saw it – far more hours than any other single piece of art I have ever experienced – I have revisited that same thought over and over: he never should’ve written it. It was an absurd thing to do. It took him a year to write the title song, then another year to write the second song, and how did he not give up when two years had gone by and he’d written two songs?  He must’ve known in his heart it needed to be a 50-song, 2 1/2-hour enterprise, and he had two songs after two years, and he kept going. How did he keep going? I've been trying to write this blog post about two writers I admire for different reasons since the week Tom Petty died, and I’ve almost given up five times.

At this point, the entire musical is that "moment" for me. It's the whole thing, now – the thing that overwhelms me is the whole thing. The conception of it, the writing of it, the rewriting of it. The music and the motifs and the themes and the threads and the dramatic shape and the characters and their inner lives, and the eagle-eye writer’s view it took to keep all of that in his head, all of it, the whole time. The writing of it. The utterly impossible writing of it. 

[theaterandtherapy]

Daydreams

AN:

So this is the first story I've ever written, it’s based off a prompt by @writing-prompt-s. I didn't do much research before making this, I just went into it to see what I could make with my limited knowledge on writing. I could’ve definitely done more with it, but as this was just a little thing to test the waters, I’m just gonna leave it as this. Big thanks to @demonpearlz for helping me out with this and giving me very constructive feedback !!

Prompt: “One day in class you decide to scream something in your head to catch mind readers. As you do, you see your crush flinch.”

If you went a mile away from Lovewell, Lovewell Academy would still loom menacingly. The building was taller than most academies, and was very structurally different than most. It was composed of a red bricked wall that contrasted with the blue sky. The walls were rough and rocky, and formed around a peculiar shape. If you just looked at the building from the ground, it would look like any other school. But from above, you discovered why the walls shaped the way they did. The school shaped an almost perfect heart. The architecture was truly sophisticated.

Inside the building you find what you would expect in a normal high school: Students filling the circular halls, classrooms of strict teachers, the dirty cafeterias, rows upon rows of lockers, yadda yadda. The thing that separates this school from most, besides the architecture, was it’s fascination with love. Love was made out to be a big deal in this school, it was talked about in the classrooms, in the halls, in the cafeteria, everywhere. Nearly everyone had somebody to call their own; and that’s where I come in to the picture, I don’t have that somebody to call my own.

I walked towards the school with only one thing on my mind, him. Someone I could not call my own, but damn sure wanted to. He had a rounded face along with cute dimples, a slick hairstyle accompanied by a dirty brown color, and a slim body. His clothes often consisted of the regular style, jeans and sweatshirts. His name was Thomas, and he was someone for me.

I met him in a study hall we shared, and I managed to make conversation with him one day. We hit it off pretty well, being both into the arts, sharing the same favorite stories, practically the same interests. Thinking about it, it’s rather peculiar how similar we are. Regardless, I’m not complaining. The more we talked, the closer we got. I learned about the big things about him, his biggest fears, his dreams, and the less big things, like that he loved fairy tales (I knew his favorite by heart, Sleeping Beauty). I loved these aspects of him. He was truly a marvel of a boy.

The closer we got, the more I began to fall. He was perfect for me, he was my best friend. I would always hope the feeling to be mutual, but I would also doubt that to be true. Despite our similarities, I came nowhere near to his perfections. He’d never go out with someone like me, so I haven’t bothered trying for him.

After reaching the school doors I pondered how today’s study hall with him would be. It’s always different, like he woke up every morning deciding to make the most of things in the smallest ways. It was a dazzling concept to think about, and I could never decide if it made him more or less attainable.

When I reached my study hall, luckily my first period, I sat down at my desk with haste. And instantly looked over at him, and upon doing so, I knew something was off. He was there, alright, but at the same time he wasn’t. He had his head down on his desk and seemed to yearn to be alone. This was a recurring event unfortunately. I’d try to get him to tell me what was up, but he never would tell me. He brushed it off as nothing, that there was not a hint of sadness in him. I knew better. I wish one day he would open up to me, but it seemed like that would never happen. I hated it. Was he depressed? Was he in a bad situation that he’s too afraid to tell anyone about? God, I don’t know. I just know I hate it. I hate feeling like this. I hate that I can’t have him. I hate it I hate it I hate it. Why can’t he just talk to me? I would try my best to make him happy. I want to make him happy. I want him to be happy. I want to be happy with him. Why won’t he talk to me? Why is this happening? Why...WHY CAN’T I HAVE HIM!?

As if right on que, he flinched, quickly looked over in my direction, and looked away. At once I was at conflict...Okay. That never happens. I guess it’s just coincidence but…

I couldn’t accept coincidence. I had envisioned a moment like this so many times. I would scream in my head to see if just maybe someone could hear my thoughts (It’s a weird concept but I’ve heard many people try this). Anyways, this was a very odd event. This moment became much more to me than odd, though. This felt like a sign, it felt like fate was at hand. This was my love. The more I stare at him and do nothing, the more nothing happens. Thus, less nothing needed to be happening.

The remainer of the school day passed slower than I could ever comprehend, and the entire time my thoughts kept meandering back to him. My heart thudded in my chest, I knew I needed to do something soon, or else I'd risk my opportunity.

Finally, the day was over, and respectfully everyone began shuffling out of the school. As soon as I saw him, I ran to catch up. He was just about to leave just like everybody else, but I couldn't let this chance slip through my fingers. When I reached him, I nervously grabbed him by the shoulder:

“Thomas, I need to talk to you right now. It’s extremely important.” I  He agreed to talk, and I lead him outside to the rightmost corner of the school. At the time it was devoid of people, plantlife, everything. It was the perfect place for a confession.

“I guess I should just get right into it. Thomas, I really like you.”

He looked confused. “Well I know you do! We’ve been friends forever.”

I sighed. “No, Thomas. I really like you. I like you so much that I can’t get you out of my head. Nobody has made me feel as happy as you have. I…”

I trailed off. Thomas stood there, staring. We then stood in silence for a while. I stood fidgeting nervously, he was just staring. Nothing but staring. After a very awkward minute of this, I started up again:

“I’m sorry I-”

“I’m sick of this shit.”

“...Excuse me?”

“It’s just the same thing over and over again. I can’t bear it. I can’t bear you.”

I stood still. “What the fuck are you on about?”

Thomas chuckled. “Well it should be pretty obvious, shouldn’t it? No friends, no form, God, you don’t even have a name. You’re just someone I made up to be less lonely. A special person who wanted to see me, wanted to be with me, wanted me. You make me feel all the lonelier when I fantasize about these things, so I refuse to think about them anymore. I need to walk away from you, and that’s what I’m going to do. I’m lonely as hell to have made you up, so maybe I should go out and actually meet some people. I’ll have that special someone one day. But not today, I can never have you.”

I stood frozen. Unable to speak. “Is...Is he right? Am I just…no. He’s crazy. I’m real. I-”    

“I’m anything but crazy,” He interrupted. He then did just as he said he would, and began to walk away.

“What?...I don’t have a name, do I? No, I have a name. I must. It’s gotta be around here somewhere. Please, don’t do this to me Thomas. I don't understand, I don't get it, oh my god, what does he mean, I want some goddamn answers this doesn’t make sense, fucking goddammit i don’t get it i don’t get it i don’t get it i don’t get it i don’t want to die i want you i want i want gone he’s gone come back please don’t do this it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it-”

If you went a mile away from Lovewell, Lovewell Academy would still loom menacingly. The building was taller than most academies, and was very structurally different than most. It was composed of a red bricked wall that contrasted with the blue sky. The walls were rough and rocky, and formed around a peculiar shape. If you just looked at the building from the ground, it would look like any other school. But from above, you discovered why the walls shaped the way they did. The school shaped an almost perfect heart. The architecture was truly sophisticated.

Inside the building you find what you would expect in a normal high school: Students filling the circular halls, classrooms of strict teachers, the dirty cafeterias, rows upon rows of lockers, yadda yadda. The thing that separates this school from most, besides the architecture, was it’s fascination with love. Love was made out to be a big deal in this school, it was talked about in the classrooms, in the halls, in the cafeteria, everywhere. Nearly everyone had somebody to call their own; and that’s where I come in to the picture, I don’t have that somebody to call my own.

I had nothing to look forward to in walking in those school doors and walking to first period. I walked in, sat down, buried my head in my desk, and daydreamed. I often did this, and when I did, my thoughts wheeled around to just about anything.  But most of all, it was love on my mind. Love was all around the school. Everyone seemed to have a partner but me. You would think that if love appealed to me so much I would most certainly have a crush, no? ‘Wish I did. I wish there was someone right in this study hall that I could just secretly stare at, and admire. Unfortunately there was nobody in this school for me. I was alone. Was this what Sleeping Beauty felt like? Waiting one-hundred years for her love, because it certainly felt like that to me. I’m tired of waiting. I want someone. Why can’t I have someone? Someone who is just like me, someone who-“Head up, Thomas,” my teacher suddenly ordered me. Daydreams have to end at some point, so I obliged.

[filmery]

Stream of Consciousness

from Iron Man

****WATCH OUT FOR LOTS OF GRAMMATICAL ERRORS****

fav marvel opener- flipping comic book pages -never read any whoops

no one is wearing black- back in black

sexist- driver woman

rdj is =iron man

peace sign kid holds- he dies so thats why tony does peace sign

"older guy cant work camera" clishe

uggggh shaky camera

why was he with the troops/ not in helicopter?

zoom into bomb fast- GREAT fast comedic moment just before sadness

he shud not have been conscious after explosion that close

WTF IS THAT UNDER HIS SHIRT WTF- IFITS ARMOR IT SHULD PROTECT HIM

al quaeda to soon

so hes steve jobs- made a frikin computer in his garage

ewww rbj with no beard- bad cgi :( cant u just shave and get over urself?

yes weapons are the key to peace hahahahahahAHAHAHAHAHAHAHhahaha

rip terrence howard as rhody

"too cool for award" cliche

"bald guy is bad" cliche

"hes always working" uhhh besides a few montages.... no he really just parties

only talks to cute girls....... uggggh

military funding? ha more like military debt ahahahahah 20 trillion is iron mans fault

jarvis is wing man after one night stand???? idve thought hed think tony was cheating lol

"girl wakes up with just guys shirt" cliche

"guy wakes up and leaves before girl wakes up" cliche

cat fight ha+2 points

literal and figurative island haha

so tony aint smart, he just uses jarvis

he obvi doesnt know how t4he faa works

i was gonna get REAL mad if tony didnt buy a painting cuz it was "too expensive" but we good

tonys a dick

yet pepper finds him attractive

ksorry

yaaaas rhody calling him a baby cuz he FING IS

im pretty sure laser shows in airplanes are illegal

"im not drinking them gets drunk" cliche

in my opinion from what ive collected, you cant be feared AND respected. fear takes over and you do things based on fear, not fromrespect - also how will blowing up people help them respect you? unless youre talking about getting respect from those u protect and those u kill cuz thats completely differeent then

"i respectfully disagree" or do you "fearfully disagree"

starts out as all techno talk, then turns into baby talk wtf

that shock wave conviently stopped right after it hit them

montage of painful surgeyr cliche

ewww that pipe in his nose as groooooooss

"dont do that but dontexplain" cliche

the dude cant understand english how did he know that tony refused????

why tf wouldnt u test it ANYWHERE BUT THE MIDDLE EAST?????

why cant they just wait and order the missile

k so this scene is srs and all but WATCHING HIM CARRYING THE CAR BATTERY IS SOOOO FuNNY I CANT

"no he wont" OK NOW U CANT UNDERSTAND U POS

"theyll never find u" cliche

why is his friend here?

how does he know how to build it? tbh he probs just had jarvis do it back home

how does the gov not know hes selling weapons to terrorists? we cant be that corrupt can we?

so hes building his ring thing but they DONT FING NOTICE THATS THERES NO MISSILES AT AlL??????

and they didnt question them the entire time

lemme peek but not go in and investigate

"i have steady hands" and then he crashes his car and LOOK! Doctro strange!

when a speech starts with a history lesson, u know its been rehearsed u poser

honestly... hot coal in mouth- worst way to die fml

props to marvel for not telling how fast theyre moving so i cant bust them for not being able to get it done

why the circle around the chest thing

wouldt one of their rules to be able to see u at all times

ctrl i is italicize hahahaha

why did the lights shut off but no the clearly hookedup laptop?

i enjoy the rock music as background music- not ur stereotypical ( yet awesome) hans zimmer score

yaaaaaas bitches run

gun shootsthen rebounds onto him- pretty sure thats not how physics work

if anyone should die, its tony tbh that whiny bithc

-2 for killing an actual good guy

how does not one of those bullets penetrate his suit?

----not enough use of the word penetreate

k no theyd keep shooting

tony: everythings on fire and im dying

ouchie that giant fall

how does he know hose helis are good?

DONT TOUCH HIS SUNBURNT AND BLISTERING SHOULDERS RHODY EWWWW

+2 for cheeseburger yas

-2 for burger king ew

doesnt sheild deal with aliens not terrorists?

newsreels? hes not THAT old

+10000 for ACCOUNTABILITY AND RESPONSIBILTY WOOOOO

k hes obvi doing the best thing here and now everyone gets pissed for him TRYING TO SAVE PEOPLES LIVES EHY IS THAT BAD?????? HE ALREADY HAS a shit otn of money LET HIM BE

fuck u and ur segway obidiah

the other thing..... dont put ur name on it

jokes on u! it was alqueade

+100 for mad money reference!!!!!

...so pepper didnt know about it so whyd he blame her for .3 seconds?

pepper is useless omg PUT YOUR HANDS IN HIS CHEST

why did he say dont take out the magnet but all of a sudden u dont need it?

i wonder if they actually built robots for tonys btterfingers

rhodeys we need pilots speech was just proven again by the aircraft landing in the hudson

so non military= humanitarian now? and if so why that bad?

honestly surprised that jarvis isnt some hot lady voice

k raza with sunglasses= morpheus

why is the mask the most vital part for raza?

tony crashing into wall is why u should ALWAYS WEAR A HELMET KIDS

obadiah is NOT playing the piano

+2 for not trusting obidiah

daaaamn if thats 1% whats 100% capacity

and he still doesnt wear a helmet

k his eye holes are so small how can he actually see?

run before walking leads to lots of problems later in life tony

at leaast he checked atc

goddammkit u made smol child drop ice cream

beginners luck

rip that baby grand he probs didnt know how to play

+2 for that fire extinguisher

+50 for Pepper being a cutie with that gift

how does tony not have his liscence revoked? hes a shit driver and can hire a chaffeur

STAN LEE BABE

RIP COLESON OMG :'(

so just fire pepper and marry her

pepper is totally right and tony should seperate who actually matter to him

how is a lot of olives 3?

im not my company- THEN TAKE UR NAME OFF HOE

no, modern day hell s walking those 15 miles and watching a car and heli and camera lady who are fine and can get there in 20 minutes

i sincerely hope that these footages were planned and not real

is this the news or a documentary?

just realized he never gave pepper her drink lol

yeah, let the kids watch their dad get shot thats fine omg

after that hit, he looks like a lion

why did he say colonel rhodes form weapons development? that name isnt that common

there was 0 time for radio contact omg

the only thing i could think during this scene was SERPENTINE SERPENTINE SERPENTINE

k now im getting a lil tired of the electric guitar

finally obi has been outted geez

im feeling some west side story WITH snaps

why is raza telling obi what he ALREADY KNOWS CUZ THEYVE BEEN IN CONTACT

how has no one noticed that obi just GOES TO THE MIDDLE EAST LIKE ALL THE TIME

this scene between pepper and tony is THE MOTHER of cliched lines

WHY DIDNT SHE SHUT DOWN THE COMPUTER STUPID WEIRDO

he tried to push his hair back hahahaHAHAHAHAHhaha

not scraps obi.... he had his own stuff

im just imagining obi hidig under toys couch haha

that dick took his shirt!!!

yaas beethoven reference

props to makeup people for his paralysis on point!

sorry but paralysis seems to me like U CANT FING MOVE TONY

i thought the old reactor needed a magnet

OF ALL THE CARS TO STEAL RHODY YOU STEAL THE AUDI

goddman all these chains

JUMP SCARE COMING HAHA I KNEW IT

-2 awful jump scare

yes middle age mom- honk at the GIANT FING ROBOT

nooo not the hydrogen powered bus!

gooood iron freezes before stainless tell

daaamn obi is a real bad shot

and radiation now floods the malibu land area and thosands are illed thanks to tonys reactor

sk glad hes corrected the mediait aint iron

coleson never briefed tham

that was longer than 90 seconds

iron man- STOP TRYING TO BE BATMAN

great ending 10/10

affter credit scene: 10/10 avengers yay