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dourpeep · 3 years

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WAIT. I'm losing my mind over that friends to lovers post you reblogged. All I can think about is college Albedo + mutual pining, romantic tension, and friends to lovers OTL

- Leaving little post it notes in his bag or inside the cover of his textbook to tell him to have a nice day or remind him to take care of himself because you know he has a tendency to work too hard sometimes!! And what if he meets up with Sucrose and Timaeus because they like to catch up and sometimes discuss their research or homework, and they see Albedo hiding a grin behind his books and think that he's solved a particularly difficult problem but it's just a cute little note you slipped him when he wasn't looking

- You stay up studying for exams with Albedo and he dozes off on your shoulder so you sit there afraid to move because you don't want to wake him but you're also dying inside

- The two of you go to the library to work but eventually get distracted so it turns into the two you sitting close together on a couch and reading each other sections from your favourite books

- I can also see him as someone who rambles about labs or new research he's absolutely taken by. Weeks later when you mention something he said before, he's a little surprised but you just tell him that you tried your best to understand everything because you know it's important to him and maybe his heart skipped a little

- Going off your headcanons: Albedo looking for little specimens and deciding it could be a fun outing with Klee so she can get some sunshine and you find the two of them in the park. You end up joining them and Albedo's heart softens seeing you and Klee laughing and smiling together!

- I remember this little headcanon you had where he snorts when laughing sometimes and imagine Albedo letting one slip out while he's with you, and Kaeya teasing him later on.

- Eventually, his friends start asking if the two of you are together because of the silent affection and teasing between the two of you. Albedo knows he likes you but he's scared a relationship will ruin everything and you're too important to lose even if it means he never says anything, but little did he know, you have feelings for him too.

Anyway, I hope you have a nice day and week! Sorry about this monster of an ask lmao

NEVER APOLOGIZE FOR ALBEDO

NEVER

Like... there are two characters that I seldom, if ever, turn down and that's my beloved Albedo and beloathed Scaramouche- If you don't want me to shut up about a topic??? Like just utter word vomit???? Bring them up. Bring them up, I dare you--

Okay okay okay okay now lemme just--

oops. 1.4k words. Enjoy your headcanon drabbles, courtesy of me being a hard simp for Albedo--

College au Albedo is pretty close to how he normally is! Brilliant, though having difficulties with making friends and keeping said friends, getting carried away with experiments (did you know if you're on good enough terms with the professors, they'll vouch for you so you can use the lab when there aren't classes using them?? Yeah)...so the friendship that you have with him is certainly the closest one he has.

It'd be the kind where you knock on his dorm or apartment door at 11:45pm with some takeout and your textbooks and he'll let you in without a second thought. You slip inside and settle on the floor next to the coffee table cross-legged, setting the food out as if you don't live a good walk away. He wasn't going to sleep any time soon anyway.

Like the kind of friendship where your hand instinctively slips into his to tug him towards something cool you found or to the café where you tend to go after classes.

Even after you get to your destination, you don't let go.

Now that that has been established--the little notes you slip into his bag or on his books really began as a little reminder. Despite his keen intellect, Albedo tends to easily forget things because his mind is always going onto the next thing. So, being the great friend you are, would just slip a note to remind him to take breaks, eat a snack, or that you're supposed to go and meet Sucrose and Timaeus after class to prep for the upcoming exams.

Neither of you really know when they began to turn into doodles or 'seemingly platonic declarations of adoration'. It's normal for friends to write a heart besides "Don't forget I love you!", right? Yeah.

The smile that makes it's way on Albedo's face is unmistakable the moment that Sucrose accidentally stumbles upon a sticky note carefully tucked in one of his notebooks.

Speaking of Albedo and his tendencies to get carried away with stuff, he often functions on...minimal sleep.

Those nights that you pop up at his place to study or just hang out, he often ends up dozing off, glasses sliding uncomfortably down the bridge of his nose and hair tousled out of it's usual style.

You never plan to stay the night (though even when he's awake he insists you do because it's not as safe at night to make the commute home), but you can't just disturb his sleep when it's the first time in a while that he's probably gone without taking a capsule or two of melatonin to help himself back into some semblance of a sleep schedule.

It's these moments that you remember just how soft his hair is and just how nice his shampoo smells.

Also that he's a cuddler.

You awake in the morning, back aching and eyes squinting against the sudden brightness of the world around you and limbs tangled with your best friend. He's unbothered because his face is half-shoved against the crook of your neck.

With the library, you often find yourselves in a little game. There's so much to learn and so, so many topics through the old vanilla-scent found between pages!!

So trips to the library end up with the two of you digging and sifting to find a topic you've never heard of, sit and read for 15 minutes, then proceed to explain said topic the best you can (without looking!!). It almost always ends up with a few chuckles from Albedo as you fumble explaining (and half-making up) information and Albedo's (unfairly) great short-term memory winning out.

Speaking of...between actually studying and your little topic games, Albedo turns to you to bounce off his current observations and ideas. Sucrose and Timaeus, though both in similar majors as Albedo, are busy with their own projects and research to the point that they don't really have the time to help with stuff as extensive as his research.

Annnnd, naturally, since you don't have anything better to do and are almost always by his side, you play that part!

You listen intently no matter how dense the subject may be and no matter if you do or do not have the background knowledge.

When you ask him to explain something you don't quite understand, he can't help but blink in surprise because you were listening??? And wanted to really understand? You prove time and time again (even days, weeks later) that you listened to every word that tumbled out during his rambles.

And of course you do! Albedo's one of the most important people to you, so it's only natural that you want to show interest in his interests.

Also it's pretty cool to find out those random bits of trivia (like lobsters and their repairable telomeres-).

Klee!!!

Oh man, the first time that you met Klee was a pretty hectic day for Albedo. Due to his Aunt Alice's incredibly busy schedule, he tends to care for Klee on days that he doesn't have class.

However, that particular day he just barely finished class before he had to go and pick her up from school.

With you in tow, that is.

Immediately, the little girl brightens up at your presence, no doubt excited from what she's heard about you (listening in to Albedo's conversations with Alice and the embarrassed tone in his voice when he realizes that he's let your name slipped again and now Aunt Alice wants to know about this particular friend who's captured dear little Bedo's attentions). He's relieved when Klee doesn't immediately reveal that.

From then on, Klee insists that Albedo invites you for every outing they have.

The cafe for a quick treat? The bookstore to sit and read a few books?

"Oh, please please please?? Can they come Albedo? Klee promises that she'll be good!"

Who is he to say no?

But above all, those park days are his favorite. You end up running around with Klee, lifting her up so she can reach a particular leaf on a branch, squatting down to see a bug or lizard that she's entirely enthralled by--all while Albedo sits under the shade of a tree on a blanket, sketchbook and pencil in hand.

You don't know it (even though there's many occasions where he's shown you his sketchbook), but the pages are filled with your smile.

Around you, Albedo's found that he's most comfortable.

There's no need to hide insecurities or hold his tongue when something particularly exciting comes to mind...nor does he hold back in his laughter. Especially with your insistence that his laugh is cute.

That scenario with Kaeya is entirely an accident, proof of just how used to your presence he's become.

It's a late night and you're out with a bigger group of friends than usual, some friends that Albedo's only known since the start of college, but definitely good ones.

With a drink in your hand you all sit at a large table, chatting about anything and everything when you crack a joke and Albedo snorts.

Not like a snort with his normally quiet chuckle, either.

Instead, he's laughing hard, tears gathering at the corners of his eyes and stomach hurting (and maybe it's because of the few sips of drink he's had) and he snorts. The moment the sound escapes him and he's trying hard to calm back down, Kaeya grins.

He's most definitely one of the first people to put two and two together.

After all, Albedo keeps to himself, even around them. But with you around? There's a certain spark of life that ignites.

It's no surprise that the two of you are close when all is said and done.

But that doesn't stop either of you from choking and cheeks from flushing when someone asks if you're a couple. It happens often--too often to count--and ranges between Kaeya's teasing comments and a few sweet words from an elderly woman passing by your table at the cafe.

And you laugh--you and Albedo--because no, no, you're just friends.

Right?

Then the light hits your features just right, illuminating you in a soft glow that makes your eyes shine and--

It's undeniable the way that he feels for you. The sudden quickening of his heartbeat is proof enough. You slide your drink towards him for him to try and he does the same, eyes unable to leave your lips as you take a sip and then smile.

Between the cracks of his appreciation, of this warmth, dread seeps.

Though...that was just over a week ago.

Sitting down back at his apartment, your head resting on his chest and your hands intertwined while you watch whatever's on tv, you shift. Your lips meet in a sweet kiss.

And Albedo wonders how neither of you managed to see it sooner.

#anon asks #THE FACT THAT YOU REMEMBER MY ALBEDO HEADCANONS AND STUFF MY HEARTTT #albedo x reader #genshin impact albedo #genshin impact x reader #albedo headcanons #genshin impact headcanons #genshin impact imagines #genshin impact drabbles #modern au #college au #modern au albedo

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nat-20s · 3 years

Text

for @jonmartinweek day 8! (which I definitely realized was happening and for sure did not forget lmao). The prompt was free day/au, so I picked my own theme of “pets”. The last few fics have been pretty loaded, so please enjoy some pure post canon (literal and figurative) fluff

~*~

“I can’t believe I married a dog person.”

They weren’t even supposed to be in the shelter. They had made no plans to visit a shelter. However, as Jon has been learning over the course of the past couple years, a Martin not under duress and given free time outside will inevitably end up trying to befriend any living nonhuman creature in the immediate vicinity.

“I’m not a dog person.”

“The lapful of beagle puppy would indicate otherwise.”

“Just because I appreciate the company of a very good boy, yes you are, doesn’t mean I’m a dog person. Dog person implies I have a preference. I like cats equally as much as I like dogs. Unlike some of us, my heart is open to all manner of furry friends.”

“I don’t...hate dogs.”

“Uh-huh. Is that why you won’t pet Rufio here?”

“He’s nippy, I don’t trust him. And it’s just that dogs are A Lot. I find most of them a bit overwhelming. And needy.”

“Pff, that’s no excuse. You’ve been best friends with overwhelming, and you married needy.”

Martin lets out a distracted giggle as Rufio finally gets in a lick on his face. Okay, maybe it is a pretty adorable sight, but that’s hardly sufficient enough evidence to actually let such an energetic ball of fluff into their home. Still, it’s enough to convince Jon to sit down next to them, and give Rufio a very tentative scritch behind the ears. “I think we both qualify as the needy one in our relationship.”

“Pretty sure that’s called codependency. What would our therapist say?”

“She’d probably say that’s a bit harsh. And that we still need to work on our separation anxiety.”

“Hey, you know what helps with separation anxiety?”

“No.”

“A dog!”

“No!”

They get a dog. Their flat is decently sized and they both have steady incomes and enough free time between them to take proper care of her. They don’t get Rufio, but instead a 7 year old mutt named Daffodil who is, admittedly, the most gentle and sweet creature Jon’s ever met. They also get a cat, a rambunctious 2 year old tabby named Jack (“We can change the name.” “Jon! How dare you! Jack responds to his name, clearly he likes it!”) who had already decided Daffodil was his mom, and they couldn’t possibly bear not adopting them together.

~*~

“You know, we could get a tarantula.”

“Fuck off.”

“I’m serious! They’re not, like, evil in this universe, and some of them have cutest little pink toesie woesies.”

“You’re not serious, you’re being a bastard, and I hate you.”

Martin wraps his arms around Jon’s waist and presses a kiss to the side of his face, which Jon gives a half-hearted swat at, because, again, the man’s being a bastard. Stubbornly ignoring Jon’s pout, Martin presses his cheek to the top of Jon’s head, cheerfully replying, “I’m fine with that, as long as you promise to hate me for the rest of our lives.”

“Well, I certainly can’t make that promise. I won’t even hate you ten seconds from now. I suppose you’ll have to settle for love instead.”

“Hmm. Deal.”

“We’re still not getting a fucking tarantula.”

They do not get a tarantula. Their home remains admirably spider free.

~*~

Martin’s gasp is loud enough to echo, and Jon can feel him begin to vibrate next to him. The excitement is perplexing at first, they’ve been to this bookstore dozens of times, and it’s never elicited this sort of response. Then Jon looks over to the front counter, where a medium-sized cage and a “For adoption” sign have been put on display. With a wild, jubilant glee, Martin asks, “Sonja! Are those baby. Dumbo. Rats?!”

“Sure are! I’ve got a friend who’s a breeder, I take it you’re interested?”

“Yes, absolutely, 100%, we’re getting two immediately.”

“Well…”

Martin snaps his head over to look at Jon with a look of betrayal the likes of which Jon hasn’t seen since the panopticon. “Jonathan, no!”

“Um.”

“You can not tell me you you don’t like rats! Dumbo rats especially!”

“I…”

Ticking off on his fingers, Martin lists, “They’re adorable, they’re smart, they’re cleanly, they’re extremely empathetic, they’re tickilish, which is stupidly cute, they can be trained to use a litter box and do tricks, they’re snuggly and playful and perfect! They’re all the good parts of dogs combined with the best parts of cats in one tiny portable package! Look at their little ears, that are like that because of a slight difference in skull shape that has no negative health effects! Plus, we can set them up in the project room, since Captain Jack isn’t allowed in there anyway. How can you dislike rats?”

“I don’t know! They just sort of..freak me out. Or not all of them, just their feet. I don’t like their little man hands.”

Martin throws his arms in the air, proclaiming, “Their little man hands are one of their best qualities! Look, Jon, are you genuinely afraid of them, or just slightly discomfited?”

“I would say mediumly discomfited. This isn’t like spiders.”

“Cool. ‘Cause in that case, we’re getting the light tan one and the solid white one, their names shall be Peaches and Cream, and you will love them as much as you love our dog and cat children.”

“That’s a rather bold claim.”

“It’s an accurate one. You’ll see.”

Within a week, Jon is transporting Peaches ‘n’ Cream in the pocket of his hoodie, and he can feel Martin’s smug aura from two rooms away. Damn him.

~*~

“Did you know snakes don’t have an amygdala?”

“Okay? You didn’t have to bring me to a reptile store to tell me that.”

“I didn’t bring you to a reptile store to tell you that. I brought you to a reptile store because I want to hold a cornsnake.”

Jon rolls his eyes, but the fondness in his voice somewhat undercuts it. “Of course you do.”

Martin makes a scaly acquaintance in less than two minutes, and as the snake coils around his fingers, he continues, “Anyway, if they don’t have amygladas, do they feel fear in a way similar to us, or is it only a recognition of threats and instinctual response?”

“Martin, my love, I have no idea. Is this going somewhere? It’s fine if not, I’m just checking in.”

“Yes. Because if they don’t feel fear, I’m getting this snake and naming her Georgie.”

That makes Jon let out a sharp bark of laugh, and, for a moment, he’s able to reminisce without any pain. “You know, I think she’d actually love that? She also had a proclivity for all creatures great and small. And a terrible sense of humor.”

“Wow, you really have a type, huh. Also hey! My sense of humor is fantastic! It always makes my husband laugh, and he has very exacting standards.”

“Liar. Your husband finds joy with you at the slightest provocation, no good sense of humor needed.”

“Hmm. He is a bit of a softie, isn’t he? Which is why he’ll let me get this snake.”

“He most certainly will not.”

“But….look at her….”

“It’s not a matter of how cute she is, dear. It’s a matter of you made us get pet rats less than a month ago, there’s absolutely no way you’re going to be able to feed mice to a snake.”

Martin looks at the cornsnake, looks at Jon, looks back, and his shoulders slump. With a wince, he asks, “Maybe frozen mice won’t be too bad?”

“What if she’s picky?”

“...There are species of snake that only eat bugs.”

“Cornsnakes aren’t one of them.”

Waving over an assistant, Martin puts the cornsnake back with a defeated, “Fine. When you’re right, you’re right.”

Jon doesn’t particularly feel like he’s won an argument. In fact, he’s a bit disappointed himself, he always liked snakes. Big fan of reptiles in general, actually, which is probably what drives him to say, “Lizards don’t usually eat mice.”

That’s how they walk out of the store with three leopard geckos.

~*~

Jon’s helping Martin set up the gecko tank in what can now be affectionately called a zoo when all of the sudden it strikes him. Some of the animals in their home right now have life spans of 10-20 years, and never once had the necessary longevity of care come up as a reason to protest against them. Jon had felt so at ease with the concept of a future that he hadn’t even thought about it, hadn’t been steeling himself for the other shoe to drop. He’s stopped having bated breath every time something good happens, instead taking reassurance in a sense of permanence that he wasn’t sure he’d ever feel again. Martin must hear his breath hitch, because he immediately stops what he’s doing to take Jon’s hand into his own. “Something wrong, love?”

Jon shakes his head. “No, nothing. I suppose I’m realizing that we have time, don’t we?”

Martin must know exactly what he means, the weight behind the words, because he brings Jon’s hand to his lips and says, “Yes. Yes, we really, really do.”

#jonmartinweek2021 #jonmartin #jon sims #martin blackwood #tma #post canon #THIS IS JUST ME PROJECTING ON MARTIN FOR 1500 WORDS LMAO #also to anyone that spots the song lyric: :3 #also also the leopard geckos names are kirk spock and bones #or as jon calls them #captain first officer and CMO

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recollins · 4 years

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hi! can you do one of reid and he has a secret girlfriend/fiance/wife (idk your choice haha) that the team doesnt know about then something happens to spencer (hospital maybe) or the team meets her by chance and everyone is surprised and start piecing together why reid declined to go out all those times and stuff? you have free reign over this drabble I know it'll turn out great anyways! thanks!!

Of course! This is so cute! Sorry, I know this took a hot minute, but I apparently don’t have the ability to write short drabbles (and of course my internet went out for like an hour when I was ready to post 🙄). I hope you don’t mind it went a little long, hopefully you enjoy this!

Pairing: Spencer x Female Reader Words: 3,531 Content: Fluff Warnings: Knife injury, stitches Masterlist

The tentative hand tugging on your pencil skirt was right on time. With a smile, you sat the stack of book returns on the shelf and turned to smile at your favorite visitor. As soon as she saw she had your attention, June held up the most recent book you’d recommended to her, beaming as she said excitedly,

“Zero found his mom! I was happy he was gonna live with Stanley but now he has his her too!”

“See? And you were worried it wasn’t gonna be a happy ending,” you teased the enthusiastic seven-year-old as you crouched down to her level. “Did you like it?”

June nodded enthusiastically, her blonde curls bouncing wildly with the movement. “I loved it! I would’a been so scared with all those lizards though! I don’t know how Zero and Stanley were so brave!”

“It’s not easy to be brave, but doing the right thing can show you that you’re a lot stronger than you might believe,” you told her, and to your surprise you saw uncertainty clouding her soft blue eyes.

“Miss (Y/N), do you think I could be brave?”

You nodded and reached up giving her chin a gentle squeeze before you stood. “You already are. I mean, you walk here from school every day by yourself. That’s pretty brave, if you ask me.”

To your surprise, June dropped her eyes and gave her small shoulders a dismissive shrug. “I’m not as brave as my big brother. He can climb all the way to the top of our tree and I’m too scared to even go past the first branch.”

As you did every Wednesday, you rested a hand on June’s shoulder and led her with you over to the children’s section of the library. Instead of instantly taking her to seek out a new book for the week, you led her to the reading nook and nudged her towards one of the chairs as you sat across from her.

“You remember Dr. Reid, don’t you?” you prompted, and June’s smile flickered back to her face as she gave an eager nod. How could she not? Spencer had come by the Story Circle – a kids book club you hosted every Saturday – and had eagerly joined in on your discussion of that month’s book, The Hobbit.

Though not [as] gifted as Spencer Reid (honestly, you didn’t think anyone else really was), June was an incredibly smart little girl and read well over her normal age group. It turned out that The Hobbit was one of her favorite books, and she and Spencer had spent hours talking about it after the club had ended.

“Well, he’s an FBI agent. Remember?” June nodded again. “Do you think he’s brave?”

“He is,” she confirmed instantly, and a smile came to your face. “He’s probably the bravest person ever!”

“I think so too,” you admitted, grinning back at her. But you think your brother’s pretty brave too, huh?”

June nodded, a little slower this time, trying to figure out the point you were about to make. “But he’s not an FBI agent like Dr. Reid.”

“He’s not. But he can still be brave, because there are different kinds of braveness in the world. Dr. Reid goes out and finds bad guys, and your brother can climb trees and not get scared.” June’s brow furrowed as you added pointedly, “and you walk all the way to the library by yourself. Everyone’s brave in their own way, but Dr. Reid’s bravery isn’t any different from yours. They’re all just as important, and all just as impressive.”

June’s smile took up her whole face, and to your surprise she hopped off her chair and rushed over to hug you tight. You laughed and hugged her back as she said, “thank you Miss (Y/N). you know what?” You pulled back and raised a brow at her in question. “You’re just like Gandalf. You’re wise and you always say things that make other people feel better. Like he does with Bilbo!”

You laughed with her as you got to your feet, taking her hand to lead her towards the shelves you wanted. “So then does that make you Bilbo?”

“Uh-huh. And Dr. Reid is Thorin, ‘cause he’s really smart and clever, but he’s really nice too. And he’s a leader. And he’s probably brave enough to fight Smaug.”

“I bet you’re right,” you agreed, already looking forward to telling Spencer all about this tonight. He loves little kids, and knowing June thought about him so highly would definitely make his day. “You know, speaking of bravery and dragons… I think I know a good book for you this week.”

You paused at the end of one of the aisles and knelt down – June following your movement – and you tugged out a book you’d been waiting to recommend to her. She took your offering and studied the cover as she read out,

“The Two Princesses of Bamarre?”

“Yep. Do you remember reading Ella Enchanted last month?” June nodded slowly. “This was written by the same author. It’s about a little sister who has to be really brave and go on an adventure to save her big sister. There’s dragons, ogres, and fairies in this one.”

June’s eyes widened with every word, and as you both stood she peeked up at you. “And true love?”

That was what the two of you shared – you were both hopeless romantics.

“Would I give you a fairytale story without that?” June giggled and shook her head. You nudged her gently back towards the reading nook, knowing her mom wouldn’t be by to pick her up for another hour at least. “I’ve got to finish putting the books away, so you get started on that and see if you like it, alright?”

“Thanks Miss (Y/N)!” she said eagerly, already cracking the book open on her way. You just grinned and shook your head as you headed back to the books you’d left on the shelf. The front desk phone ringing hadn’t even caught your attention, and you were just grabbing the books again when the other librarian Amy came bustling over to you, handset held out.

“It’s Stafford Hospital asking for you,” she whispered, and instantly your stomach flipped. Why was a hospital several cities over be calling for you? Warily you took the handset and said,

“This is (Y/F/N) (Y/L/N).”

“Miss (Y/L/N), this is Nurse Lesser from Stafford Hospital. We’re calling you because you’re listed as the emergency medical contact for Spencer Reid.”

You nearly dropped the phone, sucking in a sharp breath as your heart skittered to a stop. “Oh my god, is he okay?”

“I’m sorry ma’am, I’m not able to go into specifics right now, but if you’d be able to come down and speak with –“

“Yes, yes, I’m on my way,” you said quickly, already racing for the front desk. As soon as the call ended you practically threw the handset back to Amy as you grabbed your purse. “I’ve got to go, I’m so sorry. I’ll see you later!”

Amy didn’t even get a chance to respond before you were booking it to your car.

The normally fifteen minute drive to the hospital took you less than ten; you’d be sure not to ever mention how many traffic laws you’d broken to get there so fast. Not that you really cared about that, though. Your mind was in overdrive, heart stuttering painfully against your ribs, lungs refusing to let you get a full breath. All you could hear was emergency medical contact for Spencer Reid.

Heels and all, you practically sprinted through the ER parking lot, desperate to find out what had happened. You and Spencer had been dating for just about five months now, and though he’d listed you as his contact as soon as you’d made things official, this was the first call you’d ever gotten for it. You knew dating an FBI agent came with risks like this, but you really hadn’t been prepared for the instant panic and fear that came with knowing Spencer had been hurt.

Once inside, though, you had no idea where to go or what to do. Maybe you should’ve thought to ask that during the call, but you’d flown into panic hyperdrive and had been on a one-track-mind purpose of getting to your boyfriend as fast as possible.

You paused in the lobby for several moments, looking around desperately until you spotted someone that looked like a nurse.

“Excuse me!” you called, racing after him. The young man paused and looked back at you as you asked quickly, “I-I got a call. I’m an emergency contact for a patient –“

“Which patient, ma’am?” he asked, glancing down at a clipboard in his hand.

“Dr. Spencer Reid. He’s with the FBI, I don’t know – they wouldn’t tell me what’s wrong –“

“I’m sorry ma’am, he’s not one of my patients. If you want to wait in the lobby –“

“You don’t understand. I need to know – can you just please find out where he is? Spencer Reid. R-E-I-D. They just called me –“

“I’m sorry, did you say Spencer Reid?” a woman asked from behind you. As soon as you were distracted the nurse practically bolted from your side, but you were too busy studying the group of people behind you.

The woman who had spoken – a petite, beautiful blonde – was coming up to you, confused concern on her face. You recognized her instantly from Spencer’s description of his team, and for a moment you worried he’d be upset. He hadn’t wanted you to meet his coworkers just yet – and certainly not like this – but right now that didn’t matter.

“You must be JJ,” you started, not missing the blink of alarm she gave you as she nodded slowly.

“Yeah… I am. I’m sorry, who are you?”

Oh, right. That had probably been a lot creepier than you’d meant.

“No, I’m sorry. That was super weird of me. I’m (Y/F/N) (Y/L/N), Spencer’s girlfriend. He’s told me all about you guys.”

JJ and the others behind her all made noises of surprise. One of the men you recognized as Derek Morgan actually choked on his coffee as he spluttered, “I’m sorry, you’re what now?!”

Heat flooded your cheeks when you realized everyone was staring at you like you’d just sprouted a second head. Nervously you brought your hands together in front of you, fingers twisting together as you repeated a little quieter, “um, I’m Spencer’s girlfriend?”

“Spencer has a –“ a beautiful dark-haired woman scoffed, mouth hanging open as she tried to think of a way to finish that sentence. She must be Emily. “I had no idea Spencer had a girlfriend.”

“Surprise?” you offered, almost instantly cringing at how stupid that was. Thankfully, one of the older men seated behind the others gave an amused snort. Derek, Emily, and JJ all turned to stare at him as Emily asked incredulously,

“What, did you know about this, Rossi?”

“Of course not,” the man – apparently David Rossi – scoffed as he nodded at you. “But unlike you all it doesn’t surprise me that our resident genius would be dating a beautiful librarian. It doesn’t get any more Spencer Reid than that.”

Your cheeks were burning now as the others made noises of agreement. The last man to speak stepped forward and held out his hand to you.

“As I assume you already know, I’m Aaron Hotchner.”

“Spencer’s unit chief,” you confirmed, shaking his hand. “Though I never pictured it like this, it’s really great to meet you all finally.”

“It’s great to know you exist,” Derek quipped; Emily smacked his arm.

“You don’t know why Spence is here?” JJ prompted, and the surprise of meeting your boyfriend’s team flickered out the moment you remembered why you were here. At the look you gave her she said quickly, “don’t worry, he’s fine. He was cut by an UnSub we were chasing and he needed some stitches. We’re just waiting for the doctor to give us the clear to see him.”

Rossi patted the chair beside him and invited, “you’re more than welcome to sit with us, if we haven’t scared you off.”

“Of course not,” you smiled, taking him up on his offer and settling beside him. The others gathered a little closer, clearly ready to learn more about you. Derek wasted no time on jumping into the questions.

“So (Y/N), how long have you and Reid been dating?”

“Five months on the 18th,” you told him with a smile. His eyes widened in surprise and he made a noise of absolute shock.

“You’ve been datin’ for almost half a year and we didn’t know you existed?!”

“Um, surprise again?” you offered, getting a snort out of JJ this time. “I’m sorry. Spencer said he was waiting for the right time. He wanted to give us time to get comfortable with our relationship and make sure things were serious, and then things have just kept coming up. He definitely didn’t want to spring it on you like… well, exactly like it just happened…”

“He was going to tell us at the Halloween party, wasn’t he?” Emily asked you, and at the bewildered head nod you gave her she explained, “he was insistent we would all be there, and when we had to fly out on a case he was really upset. I thought it was just because he has an unnatural love for Halloween, but…”

“Wait,” JJ cut in, snapping her fingers. “When we invited him to lunch last week and he’d said he had to return a library book…”

The team around you ahh’d as they all chuckled. You looked around, still not getting their amusement, but thankfully Rossi caught on to your uncertainty.

“Reid’s been acting dodgy with us lately, and we’ve all been trying to pinpoint it. I can honestly tell you it’s a relief to know he’s in a relationship, not the mob.”

“You’re the only one that thought that,” Emily started, and from behind her, Aaron cleared his throat.

“No he wasn’t.”

The others turned to give him incredulous looks as JJ asked him, “you actually thought Spencer Reid was in the mob?”

“Hey, you and JJ thought he was in a fight club!” Rossi defended, and this time you had to snort.

“A fight club?” you laughed; Emily just offered a shrug as JJ said,

“He had bruises on his – oh.”

Ah, there was the burning in your cheeks again. The others laughed as Derek rubbed his hands together, looking around.

“Guess this means you all owe me your bets.” At the noise of protest around him, he said quickly, “I was the closest! I said he was crushin’ on someone!”

“You guys had money on his caginess?” you asked them with a bemused laugh. JJ, Rossi, and Hotch gave you apologetic smiles as Emily argued,

“That doesn’t count. Garcia wins, she said he had a secret girlfriend.”

“That’s not even fair,” Derek grumbled, shaking his head and crossing his arms irritably. “How is it the only one of us that was right is the one who isn’t even a profiler?”

Before they could go any further a voice called out, “I’m looking for Spencer Reid’s emergency contact, Miss (Y/L/N)?”

Instantly you scrambled out of your seat, rushing past the others to the Doctor peering down at you.

“Yes, that’s me. Is Spencer okay?”

“Yes ma’am. I’m happy to report he’s just fine,” he assured, and the group around you all made noises of relief. “He needed a decent amount of stitches but the blood loss was minimal and luckily there won’t be any long term damage. He’s ready for visitors, if you’d like me to take you back.”

Though you wanted to see him you didn’t feel right stepping in front of his team. They were his family and he’d known them all much longer than he’d known you. But when you looked back at them, JJ and Emily ushered you to go first.

“Go warn him that we’ve met, because as soon as we see him, he ain’t livin’ this down,” Derek assured you, giving a playful grin. With a laugh, you just gave a nod and followed the Doctor back into the patient rooms.

Spencer looked up at the sound of your heels, a huge smile spreading over his face. Though you instantly smiled back, you made a noise of distress seeing his bandaged arm. Rushing to his side, you gingerly took his arm and held it up, running your fingers lightly over the wrappings.

“Baby, are you okay?” you asked softly, looking up at him in concern. Spencer smiled and reached out, cupping your face with his free hand and brushing his thumb over your cheek in comfort.

“I’m just fine. I’m so sorry, I wanted to call and let you know what’d happened, but I left my phone in the SUV. I know the call from the hospital had to have taken you by surprise.”

“You know…” you started, giving him a smile as you leaned into his touch. “Not as much as finding your team in the waiting room did.”

He actually gasped, his mouth dropping into a shocked ‘O’ as he stared at you in mild horror. “Oh no. I – I’m so sorry, sweetheart. I didn’t even think about that. I didn’t mean to throw you to them like that –“

“Spencer it’s okay,” you laughed. “It wasn’t what we’d talked about but I liked meeting them. Although apparently they were making bets about why you kept ducking out of things with them.”

He frowned, an adorable pout coming over his face. “They do that a lot. And they give [me] a hard time for being from Vegas…”

With a laugh, you finally let go of his arm and reached up, cupping his face with both your hands and pulling him down into a kiss. He hummed against your lips, the hand on your cheek sliding into your hair to hold you to him. Your lips moved against one another softly, tongues brushing briefly before you broke apart to keep from going farther.

“I’m really glad you’re okay,” you said softly, letting your fingers slide over his face to sweep his hair back behind his ears. “Did you catch the guy that did this?”

He nodded, a hint of pride in his soft brown eyes as he gave you a smile. “I did, actually. We managed to stop him before he killed a teen, and even did it without him taking his own life. He cut into me instead of his neck. It was close.”

You knew how bad that must’ve shaken him. Spencer had told you his hardest cases were the ones he had to watch someone take their life, almost more so than the cases with kids. To hear he’d been the hero warmed you to your core, and you knew exactly what would make him even happier.

“It’s funny, I was just telling June about how brave Dr. Reid was, and you go and prove me right.”

As expected, Spencer’s face lit up with a smile at that and he sat up a little taller. “You told her I was brave?”

“I did,” you confirmed. “And it’s been decided that she’s Bilbo, I’m Gandalf, and you’re Thorin.”

“I’m Thorin?” he asked in surprise, and you gave an eager nod. “Why?”

“According to June, you’re smart, nice, and clever. She’s a pretty perceptive first grader.”

Of all the things you loved about Spencer, his genuine humility was one of his best qualities. You knew he didn’t see himself for the incredible man he truly was, and watching the soft blush on his cheeks at June’s compliment warmed your heart even further.

Before you could sweet talk your boyfriend any further, though, you heard commotion in the hallway. The rest of Spencer’s team all piled into the room, with Derek in the lead, a phone to his ear.

“Oh yeah, baby girl. I’ve got him right here. I’ll let him tell you why he kept his girlfriend from us for five months.”

Spencer’s eyes widened as Derek held out the phone; he shook his head and Derek gave a deadpan frown. When Spencer refused again, his friend stepped up and pressed the phone to his face.

“No, Morgan, I don’t – oh, uh, hey Garcia –“

You could hear the squeaking of a very upset woman on the other end and you laughed along with the team as JJ and Emily came up on either side of you.

“So, (Y/N), how does dinner with the team Saturday night sound?” Emily mused, and JJ elaborated,

“We have about six months of embarrassing Reid to make up for, and Rossi makes a mean lasagna. You in?”

“Oh, I’m definitely in,” you laughed, catching Spencer’s eye as he rambled off a desperate apology to the phone in Derek’s hand. He raised his brows to you, silently asking, is this okay?

The smile and wink you gave him assured that yes, this was better than okay. This was as close to perfect as meeting someone’s family would ever get.

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x y/n #drabble #thats a lie #this is not a drabble #this is 3.5k words lmao #my bad #Anonymous #female reader #spencer reid x female reader #criminal minds #rea writes #rea replies

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theropoda · 2 years

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dont usually post personal shit on tumblr bc i am cringe but in this case i suppose i seek out not to just get things off my chest but also feedback... on some level

anyways. girl am i disabled

i feel like the more i learn about disability and myself the more i feel like the two are similar. hearing abt disabled ppl, esp ppl who are disabled not bc of physical health problems but because of neurodevelopmental disorders (I mean. there comes a point where the line between the two is quite blurred but) and learning more about my disorder(s)'s affect on my life (which ive kind of been repressing/ignoring/underestimating my whole life) is making me realize Things.

like oh god. yes my disorders do affect my ability to live a normal life and execute everyday tasks. yes it does make me wonder if me ever getting a job is possible bc it does limit my ability to go outside of my house. ive been wanting to go outside for the past week or so, just anywhere.. ma store or a park but i cant. its too hard and painful man. there's far too many things considered "normal", considered an essential part of a healthy Normal life that's just not easy for me to do.

and of course im being vague about it all considering it's been a big source of shame and im not sure it'll ever change and im certainly not changing the way in which i talk about it in public (Very, Very Vaguely and Secretively) (although i suppose it's possible to put two and two together and accurately guess what it is im even talking about)

even if in the end i find the answer to my question and the answer is im not disabled, just. Very Mentally ill. i suppose it is a net benefit to even ask the question in the first place because it's helping me realise something that ive spent too much time ignoring. spent too much of my life going through a Really no good, very bad childhood that i promptly swept under the rug as "not the best :/" instead of recognizing it as the genuinely awful thing it was. im sure there's a number of factors as to why i never actually accepted how bad i had it and why i kept lying to myself and saying "oh im actually pretty okay as a person No problems at all :) ", far too many to list but im sure my parents, my cultures view on mental illness and spending my youth on this stupid website during its " gate keeping who gets to use the word traumatized and mentally ill to describe themselves" era sure didn't help

Like its about time i stop lying to myself about me having it "better that most people", about time i look back on when i was a kid and recognize that that shit wasn't normal and no one should've gone through that, even if it was a very specific experience that ive almost never heard of anyone else suffering from. the only time i read about someone experiencing what i did was when i read a book on the topic and that made me cry because only when i saw it through a second person perspective did i realize how Not Good it all was.

Anyways. i saw a bird today and it had a little lizard wriggling in its mouth So awesome

#talking

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commentaryvorg · 3 years

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Digimon Savers Commentary Episode 3 - The Genius Who Returned Home, Tohma! Crush Meramon!

In this episode, we’re introduced to Tohma, whose return to the Japanese branch of DATS immediately sparks a hostile rivalry between him and Masaru. Meanwhile, Masaru’s first mission as a DATS member presents him with the tricky conundrum of figuring out how to punch fire.

We open with Masaru and Agumon stuffing their faces at the Daimon family breakfast table.

Sayuri: “My, my. Masaru never usually gets up before the afternoon on a Sunday. This must be thanks to Agu-chan!”

Masaru habitually sleeping in on non-school days is deeply relatable.

But more importantly, it’s lovely that him meeting Agumon has changed that! Though Masaru might have got something out of fighting random street punks before, it seems that it wasn’t quite exciting enough to him to get him out of bed early for it. It was probably more just that he’d wander around town bored and pick fights with anyone who seemed up for it out of a lack of anything better to do.

But now that he and Agumon have got all these Digimon to fight, Masaru’s got a real reason to wake up as soon as possible to go do that! Meeting Agumon has genuinely made him a whole lot happier with his life.

Also it is adorable how Sayuri and Chika have already taken to calling Agumon “Agu-chan”. It’s a cute sign that they see him as exactly the dorky kid that he is rather than as some weird monster, and also that they see him as one of the family, which is absolutely what he is now.

Can we please appreciate Chika’s done-ness here. I love her.

Masaru: “What the hell, Mom! Serve me before Agumon!”

Sayuri: “I never said you wouldn’t have your share. Just wait for a bit. After all, Agu-chan’s still a child.”

Again with the just treating Agumon like the big kid that he is. Sayuri is so good.

We are also introduced to the glorious treasure that is Sayuri’s fried eggs! Agumon has certainly discovered how great they are.

(Technically, these are tamagoyaki, a Japanese miniature rolled omelette thing. But the subs go with fried eggs, which is close enough and rolls off the tongue quicker in English.)

Masaru: “Gimme that!”

Agumon: “I won’t hand over the last of Sayuri’s fried eggs, not even to you!”

Oh, won’t you, Agumon? Not ever?

(This is another line to keep in mind for a lot later.)

Chika: “What a child…”

As Masaru wrestles Agumon in an attempt to literally get the fried egg back from out of his mouth, Chika observes that she’s somehow the most mature of the three Daimon kids. (Yes, I said three, what of it.)

Meanwhile, Tohma is… having a gratuitous shower scene. Uhhh, sure. Apparently this totally needed to be his introduction. …Look, at least I appreciate that the fanservice is being equal-opportunity in terms of gender. (For now.)

He also has a butler, and is living in a pretty big but mostly quiet and empty mansion. This sequence is about showing the huge contrast between Masaru and Tohma’s home lives, but I do not know why the writers thought a shower scene was necessary for that.

(Tohma mentioned at the end of last episode that this country is his mom’s homeland, but he sure doesn’t appear to be staying with his mom right now, does he.)

Agumon attempts to fit himself into the basket of a bike which I can only imagine is Chika’s, because I don’t think Masaru’s bike would be pink. Agumon doesn’t seem to realise this. Chika doesn’t seem to want to tell him. He is such a ridiculous dork.

Meanwhile, Tohma gets seen off in the morning by the mansion’s staff bowing goodbye to him, and then is driven around in a limo.

Masaru’s “transportation”, on the other hand, is running down the street while giving Agumon a piggy back. Apparently this is so that Agumon can stay still and pretend to be a really big stuffed toy, but he’s kind of ruining that by talking and waving his arms around to cheer his aniki on.

(Of course, the most obvious way to not have Agumon raise suspicion would be to keep him in his Digivice, but it seems they’ve already agreed offscreen that that’s not an option because Agumon doesn’t like it in there. Yoshino and Satsuma would probably have some words to say to them about that, but hey, they’re not here, so Masaru’s gonna let his follower stay outside and be happier.)

Masaru: “Uh… what do I press again? This? No…”

Masaru, that DATS earpiece only has like two buttons on it, it can’t be that hard to figure out.

Yoshino: “We have a Digimon signal.”

Masaru: “Where?!”

Yoshino: “Area C-7. Can you get there directly?”

Masaru: “Yeah! Leave it to us!”

Not pictured: Masaru wondering where the heck “C-7” is and why he impulsively said he could definitely get there when it could be on the other side of the city for all he knows.

(Okay, that’s probably not actually what happens. Somehow we are supposed to believe that Masaru – Masaru – memorised all these location codes that DATS uses remarkably quickly. I imagine he knows the city quite well, but these codes for the areas are presumably a DATS-only thing that civilians wouldn’t be familiar with.)

Street punk #1: “So boring…”

Street punk #2: “Nothing’s going on at all…”

PetitMeramon: “Nothing at all!”

This is the first time we’ve seen a rampaging Digimon speak… but it doesn’t necessarily seem to be expressing its own thoughts. Rather, it’s just parroting these bored dudes. The PetitMeramon goes on to float down the street and set things on fire, which certainly makes it so that something interesting’s finally going on. It almost seems as if this is happening because these dudes were bored and wanted some kind of excitement, even if they weren’t necessarily wishing for this.

This is almost immediately followed by Masaru and Agumon showing up, which… the timing of that doesn’t exactly work out for the PetitMeramon to have only just appeared, assuming this is the Digimon signal Yoshino told him about while he was still in his own neighbourhood. But I’m still very sure that the writers want us to feel like these dudes’ boredom is related to the PetitMeramon being here, and honestly, showing us that is more important than getting meaningless details like the timing of things exactly right, so I don’t actually care.

Masaru: “Let’s fight!”

PetitMeramon: “Fight…”

Again, still not really speaking for itself, just parroting. Though this time it’s parroting a different person, so maybe what we can take from this is that there were some other bored people who originally brought it here and now it’s just parroting and acting on the thoughts of whoever happens to be nearby. (It’s true that we didn’t actually hear the sound of a Digital Gate opening just now.)

Unfortunately for our pair of dorks, a living fireball like PetitMeramon is immune to Agumon’s fire attacks and not solid enough for Masaru to punch. And without punching it, Masaru can’t get his Digisoul, so he can’t evolve Agumon either. This is the absolute worst possible enemy for them to try and fight.

Naturally, they just chase it further down the street anyway, giving absolutely no care to the random dudes who just watched a giant lizard and a living fireball duke it out. Despite being a DATS member now, Masaru is still really not here for all of the calculated government secrecy stuff.

Luckily, Tohma arrives on the scene in his limo and cleans up these loose ends Masaru left using a memory-wipe flashy thing. And, to be fair, I wouldn’t be surprised if Satsuma just didn’t even give one of those to Masaru in the first place. I’m not sure I’d trust him not to accidentally point it the wrong way when using it or something, given that he could barely figure out the two buttons on his earpiece. Masaru and technology do not mix.

(…Though I have to wonder why Gaomon then emerges from the limo and isn’t inside his Digivice. Sure, the flashy thing knocked out those dudes so they’re not a problem right now, but do you really not expect to run into any more people as you chase down the target? …But of course, the only real reason Gaomon is out right now is so that we can get a brief glimpse of him as a stinger before the opening.)

Okay! Okay!

I can jump over any limits!

Feel that excitement passionately!

Some more gung-ho opening lyrics! These feel appropriate here, as the idea of Masaru’s burning passionate excitement is going to be a bit of a thing in this episode, as is the idea that he brashly considers himself to have no limits whatsoever.

At DATS HQ, Masaru is grumpy about not being able to win.

Yoshino: “Well, I didn’t think it would go easily for you from the start.”

Honestly, having seen how easily Masaru handled the fights in the first two episodes, I would have expected things to go easily for him, at least in terms of fighting. It only didn’t because this specific enemy happens to be immune to all of his usual tactics. The more logistical side of things, such as the secrecy and the memory wiping stuff, I can see Masaru needing a while to get used to (though, spoiler, he’s, uh, never really going to become any good at that at all), but not the fighting.

Tohma shows up with the PetitMeramon’s Digiegg, presenting it to Yoshino and not even acknowledging Masaru’s presence.

Miki and Megumi, the two young women who work the tech side of things at HQ, begin fawning over him, which is, uh, a liiittle questionable when he’s fourteen and they’re… it’s never made clear exactly how old, but definitely at least adults. Thankfully, this mostly goes away and stops being much of a thing after this episode.

There is also Gaomon! He is a good dog. Though right now he’s being as dismissive as his master and ignoring Agumon when Agumon tries to ask who he is.

Masaru: “You bastard! You took away my prey!”

It’s so Masaru to be mad about this. That PetitMeramon was his opponent first, and now he can’t even settle the fight himself because this guy came in and defeated it before he could!

Tohma barely looks at him, and…

Masaru: “What, gonna fight?”

…of course Masaru is ready to start a fight over this, because this is how he’s used to settling disputes.

But actually Tohma was just turning to walk towards Satsuma, still pretty much entirely ignoring Masaru’s presence.

Tohma: “I’ve looked through the written reports, and it seems rather peculiar that there are a large number of Digimon detected in this country lately.”

[…]

Satsuma: “Is the frequency not as high in EU?”

Tohma: “No. It must be because it has a larger area.”

I do not understand what Tohma is trying to get at with that last part. Since Europe is bigger than just Japan, surely that means they’d expect more Digimon incidents in it, not less.

That weird part aside, though, it is a relevant point that Japan in particular has been seeing more Digimon incidents than anywhere else. There’s a reason for this.

Masaru is fed up with Tohma acting like he doesn’t exist and walks up to cough pointedly behind him. It’s actually rather unlike Masaru to be passive-aggressive and indirect like this, but it does amuse me.

Satsuma: “Oh, let me introduce you. This is…”

[Tohma barely even glances at Masaru; Masaru gets angry]

Masaru: “Hey! I don’t care if you’re called Tohma or Tonma… but around here, I’m your senpai! I’ve only been here for three days, but make sure to call me ‘Daimon-san’ or ‘Daimon-senpai’!”

Not that it takes much for Masaru to go back to his usual direct approach to things. Tohma just waltzing in here, easily defeating the opponent that Masaru was struggling against, getting immediate respect from everyone else in the room and barely even acknowledging Masaru as worthy of looking at makes Masaru feel inferior, which riles him up and gets him flailing to assert some kind of superiority in a really transparent way.

See, Masaru wouldn’t usually care all that much about people showing the appropriate politeness when referring to him, but when it’s this jerk who’s making him feel like this, damn right he’s going to insist that the three days more he’s been here is totally enough to count as making him a senpai. (A senpai means someone senior within the same group; it’s a Japanese concept that doesn’t quite have a direct English equivalent, hence the subs leaving it as-is and just giving us a translators’ note explaining it.)

Calling him “Tonma” – which another translators’ note informs us is a word for an idiot, so basically Masaru’s just insulting him in a very juvenile way – is, of course, not exactly the best way to establish himself as a mature and senior senpai.

Satsuma and Yoshino point out that actually Tohma is Masaru’s senpai, because he used to work here until he took a six-month trip to work at a DATS branch in Europe, which he’s just returned from.

Masaru: “B-But no matter how you look at it, he’s the same age as I am…”

Establishing Tohma’s age as being also fourteen. (Though technically Masaru wouldn’t necessarily know his exact age and is just saying he seems similarly aged, but whatever, Tohma is fourteen as well, let’s go with it. Their rivalry has a much more fun dynamic if they really are exactly the same age rather than one having a year or two of seniority over the other.)

They also go on to add that Tohma is a genius who already has a degree (and even more than that, as we’ll later learn). And, okay, while on paper Tohma’s genius achievements are probably wildly unrealistic for anyone to have managed at the age of fourteen no matter how clever they are, it doesn’t really bother me. In practice, the genius thing isn’t here to make Tohma magically unrealistically special; it’s here to make him interesting and a great foil for Masaru. Tohma is a very well-written character whom I really like, almost as much as Masaru, and I’m looking forward to getting to talk about him a lot here.

On top of this, the Norstein family is Austrian nobility, so Tohma’s practically a prince as well. (Again, there’s very much a point to this that’s relevant to his character and not just for the sake of making him special). And they add that Gaomon is the most accomplished battler they have among the Digimon at DATS (not that there’s that many for him to compete with there).

Satsuma: “Be sure to get along with each other, as you are colleagues.”

Yep, Masaru’s sure to have no problems getting along with this person whom you just lengthily explained is way more awesome than he is despite being the same age as him.

Masaru certainly doesn’t seem too happy about this.

Tohma: “I think it will be futile to do so, Captain Satsuma. There is not a chance that this person could benefit DATS.”

Masaru: “What d’you mean?!”

[Tohma only barely glances at Masaru before turning back to the Captain]

Tohma: “People like him should be dismissed at once.”

…Though, it turns out, Tohma is also equally unwilling to even attempt to play nice. All this barely even glancing at Masaru and talking about him rather than to him is kind of a dick move. Really, Masaru and Tohma are being equally as rude to each other here, albeit in completely different ways.

Masaru: “Say that to my face! Look into a person’s eyes when they’re talking!”

And I love that this in particular is what gets to Masaru the most. He’s always so straightforward, and being that way is important to him. He can’t stand people beating around the bush and being vague about their intentions rather than just coming out and saying what they really mean directly to the person involved.

To be fair to Tohma, he does actually listen and look Masaru straight in the eye this time.

Tohma: “You and your partner are not suited for DATS.”

Yoshino: “Tohma!”

I like Yoshino protesting here. Even she thinks this is going a bit far.

And it is a bit far, really – sure, Tohma caught a glimpse of Masaru and Agumon’s rather unfortunate fight against the PetitMeramon earlier, but that’s hardly enough evidence to decide that they have absolutely nothing to offer. This says less about Masaru and Agumon and more about Tohma himself: he’s something of a perfectionist, and he doesn’t like the idea of working with anyone who doesn’t match up to his very high standards.

(College degree as a teenager? Member of Austrian nobility? Yeah, we can already guess where some of that might come from.)

Masaru, being Masaru, has had enough and just tries to punch Tohma – but he blocks it easily.

Tohma: “Really, now. You want to face me with that level of power? How incredibly pathetic.”

Masaru: “What do you mean, ‘that level’? How strong does that make you, then?!”

This is the first person Masaru’s met in probably a really long time who’s said anything to the effect that he’s not strong enough, who’s implied that there’s some other, higher level of strength that Masaru just doesn’t have yet. He’s not used to thinking of his strength in those terms, and feeling inferior. Isn’t he supposed to be the number one street fighter in Japan? How can there be any kind of greater strength he doesn’t have?

Tohma: “Do I have to answer that?”

Masaru: “Yeah! Go on, show me! Let’s see the truth behind all that bragging!”

Of course Tohma has to answer that and actually prove himself! Masaru is all about actions rather than words; if someone’s claiming they’re stronger than him, there’s no way he’s going to just accept that until he tests it out for himself.

It turns out Tohma is indeed perfectly willing to put his money where his mouth is, because we cut to what’s presumably a gym somewhere in the DATS HQ, in which there is a boxing ring. I might call this awkwardly convenient, but no, actually, since Tohma used to work here (and he’s into boxing, as we’re about to see), it makes a lot of sense that he might have asked to have one installed for himself to use recreationally in between missions.

Yoshino: “Hey! Put on your headgear!”

Masaru: “I don’t need it! Besides, he’s not wearing any!”

Masaru and Tohma are both being reckless idiots here, pointlessly endangering themselves because of their pride. They’re both telling themselves “I don’t need to protect myself to win against him”, and they’re certainly not going to be the only one to wear headgear while the other doesn’t and end up looking like they’re only winning because they have an unfair advantage, or like they’re wearing it because they’re worried.

It is notable that Yoshino is only trying to encourage Masaru to wear the headgear. Apparently she’s already expecting Tohma to have the upper hand here? Ouch.

As you’d expect, the first few moves of the fight are Masaru throwing wild punches at Tohma while he easily dodges them all.

Tohma: “You put all your faith in power without using any strategy or tactics.”

Which pretty much sums up the entire Masaru-Tohma contrast going on here: reckless power versus careful strategy.

Tohma: “Why did you join DATS?”

Masaru: “Huh?! It was so I could win, obviously!”

Tohma: “Against who?”

Masaru: “Against strong guys!”

Look at how Masaru doesn’t even think to specify who he wants to win against at first, because the exact opponent he’s fighting isn’t the point. He just wants to challenge himself and prove to himself how strong he is by winning those challenges, and fighting Digimon happens to be the best way for him to do that right now.

Also look at how Masaru has completely stopped caring about the part where the other reason he joined was so that Agumon wouldn’t be taken from him. That genuinely does not matter to him any more, now that he’s here anyway because he wants to be.

(So it’s actually kind of a bit much that Tohma is insisting Masaru should be dismissed from DATS – because that would mean he’d lose not only this job, but also Agumon.)

Tohma finally stops just dodging and counters with a blow to Masaru’s stomach – the first punch that’s actually landed for either of them – giving him a sense of the high ground as he says these next words.

Tohma: “What a boring story. DATS has an important mission. Every member has an obligation and a responsibility to carry that out.”

It’s very appropriate that Tohma would be so disdainful of Masaru being here for entirely personal reasons, while he feels like this whole thing is supposed to be about a sense of duty for a greater purpose. That noble Norstein family heritage is showing just a little bit.

Obviously, DATS’s general mission of covering up Digimon incidents is indeed important, but so long as he helps them do that anyway, what does it actually matter if that’s not the reason Masaru’s here?

Masaru: “Shut up! Stop acting all elite!”

Masaru still does not like Tohma constantly acting like he’s better than him, like he’s just this perfect superhuman who doesn’t even have any personal desires of his own other than to do as he’s supposed to.

Tohma: (He’s beyond help.)

Geez, Tohma, that is going a bit far. Again, he’s just writing Masaru off entirely because he doesn’t fit Tohma’s idea of how things should be, rather than trying to understand his different view on things.

(But of course, Masaru is not really being any better about trying to understand Tohma’s perspective and is currently similarly writing him off as an elitist jerk who needs to be taken down a peg.)

Tohma follows this thought up by punching Masaru right in the face, implying he’s been going easy until now and has finally started getting serious, expecting this single blow to end this. Which it does, because Masaru is knocked to the ground and doesn’t manage to rise for Yoshino’s count of ten, making Tohma the winner of this boxing match.

(please appreciate this look on Masaru’s face as he realises that Tohma has arguably beaten him, that maybe he really is inferior)

…But of course Masaru’s not just gonna stand for that. As Tohma is about to leave the ring, Masaru finally manages to get to his feet anyway.

Masaru: “Wait right there… You really are… spouting a lot…”

Tohma: “The match is over.”

Masaru: “Match? What we’re having is a serious fight! It’s not a game!”

He doesn’t care about anything so pointlessly official as a match or a countdown to determine the winner. Settling their differences and proving who’s strongest goes way beyond those silly arbitrary restrictions!

With these words, Masaru manages to punch Tohma just as hard in the face… albeit only because Tohma was turned away and not quite ready to defend himself. Still, as far as Masaru would see it, in terms of his usual kind of fights, that’s on him! If he turned away from an opponent who’s still able and willing to fight him, that’s just letting his guard down!

Masaru: “A fight doesn’t end until one side admits defeat!”

That’s the only rule Masaru needs for his street fights. So long as the combatants are still willing to fight each other, anything goes!

In fairness to Tohma, he doesn’t even complain about Masaru catching him off guard and seems quite willing to accept these new “terms” for the fight, because they jump right back into beating each other up.

We cut to later in the main control room.

Masaru: “Damn it… That bastard…”

Yoshino: “You should be happy it was a draw!”

Who’s betting it was Yoshino’s decision that it was a draw. I can’t imagine either Masaru or Tohma being willing to even admit to that much. After a while of them trading blows and obviously being quite evenly matched to the point that this could end up going on forever, Yoshino probably stepped in and insisted they call it off as a draw before they seriously hurt each other.

Yoshino: “Tohma’s beaten Olympic champions in the past.”

…Yeah, so also on top of everything else, Tohma is a supremely talented boxer. But I don’t mind, because something like that is necessary for him to be able to equal Japan’s number one street fighter in a fistfight. And his fighting style being the precise and controlled sport of boxing rather than anything-goes street brawls once again serves to contrast their approaches. Tohma’s boxing talent is just another part of making him Masaru’s equal and opposite. These two are such good foils for each other.

Masaru: “Well, I’ve taken out the leader of the third Minato high school!”

That is totally an equivalent thing here, right. He’s successfully beaten tough guys, too, the context doesn’t matter. Masaru was expecting to win and not just draw, damn it!

Yoshino: “Really, the only things worthy of a gold medal around here are your pride and your competitive attitude.”

I love her snark. She’s not wrong. (Though really, Tohma’s pride would be giving Masaru just as much competition for that medal.)

I also love how pouty Masaru is.

It’s interesting how Yoshino’s putting band-aids on Masaru’s bruises, yet Tohma then walks into the room (still barely acknowledging Masaru) with an equally bruised face, and Yoshino’s not trying to tend to him. It’s like how she was only trying to get Masaru to wear the headgear earlier and not Tohma.

At this point, I doubt this is so much about thinking Masaru is weaker and more in need of this than Tohma, since she just watched them match each other in a fight. So maybe it’s more that Yoshino finds Masaru more approachable than Tohma. For all his reckless stubbornness, Masaru’s basically still a regular person, while Tohma’s from a whole other world to her. Perhaps she simply feels more comfortable directing this mom-friend behaviour at Masaru rather than Tohma, despite having known Tohma for longer.

The Digimon-signal alarm blares and Masaru instantly shifts to this excited grin. What a dork.

It’s more PetitMeramon. A lot of them. Turns out that if even the tiniest flame from their body is left behind, it can develop into a new PetitMeramon. Hearing this prompts Masaru to recall his earlier unsuccessful attempts to punch it, which only succeeded in sending little embers from its body flying everywhere.

Masaru: (This is my fault…)

It’s admirable of Masaru to immediately acknowledge this rather than stubbornly try and make excuses to himself and pretend he totally didn’t mess anything up at all. But it is notable that he’s not saying that out loud. Which is probably because Tohma’s in the room, and he doesn’t want to give Tohma even more ammo to keep claiming that he’s a liability here.

Kudamon: “It’s up to you, Tohma, Gaomon.”

Masaru: “Wait! Those fireballs are ours to beat!”

Masaru insists this partly because he’s still frustrated that he didn’t get to finish the fight himself earlier, but almost certainly also because he feels responsible for this. This is his mess, and he wants to at least make up for it by being the one to fix things.

Tohma: “Are you 100% certain you can secure these Digimon?”

Masaru: “Damn right! We’ll pull it off somehow using our spirits!”

Such certainty. Masaru is definitely the kind of person to optimistically throw himself into things without being sure what the outcome will be. Usually, it might be reasonable to bank on that, but against this particular enemy which Masaru and Agumon currently have no way of even damaging… probably not.

Satsuma: “This time, Tohma and Gaomon are best for the job.”

Satsuma realises this, too, of course. I like how he’s specifying that this is only because Tohma and Gaomon are more suited for this particular job, which is extremely true, and not that they’re better overall, which Masaru would not respond well to.

Satsuma: “Yoshino. You and Lalamon will go to support Tohma.”

Which is to say, Yoshino will drive the car, because Tohma isn’t old enough to do that. (Lalamon won’t really be doing anything at all.) Tohma came to the earlier fight from his limo, but it seems that was only because he was being driven to DATS HQ and happened across the Digimon on the way. Limousines are not the usual DATS-approved method of transportation to Digimon incidents, funnily enough.

Masaru, having been ordered to stay behind and just watch them, is left feeling frustrated and inadequate.

(It’s really only because you can’t punch fire, Masaru!)

Gaomon fighting alone against the swarm of PetitMeramon achieves basically nothing, so Tohma very quickly switches from “Plan A” to “Plan A-2” and evolves him. (I like how it’s not “Plan B” and is totally just an alternate version of the first plan. It’s definitely not that trying to fight a swarm of several Child-level Digimon with a single Child-level was ever a bad plan and really he should have evolved Gaomon from the start.)

It’s a neat detail that Tohma clicks his fingers to summon his Digisoul. Yoshino does kind of a similar thing, not clicking her fingers but instead making a very particular emphatic motion with her hand. It’s like they need some sort of psychological trigger to get it to work – which then also makes it slightly less ridiculous that Masaru needs to outright punch a Digimon to get his to show up. It’s just a stronger kind of psychological trigger, is all! And Tohma and Yoshino have been doing this for a long time. Maybe it usually takes a lot of practice to be able to get one’s Digisoul to show up on command, and the reason why Masaru’s has this extra condition to trigger it is actually because he’s new at this.

I want to take this moment to inform everyone that Gaogamon is a very good fuzzy doggy. He’s one of my favourite Digimon designs.

As an Adult-level, Gaogamon is exponentially stronger than these Child-level PetitMeramon and can easily take down the entire swarm of them in a single attack. Digimon evolution levels, everybody. This isn’t even Gaogamon being especially impressive; this is just how it was always going to turn out.

Tohma: “3 minutes, 47 seconds. We shortened it by another minute.”

Okay, so, some of Tohma’s genius traits can come across as a little bit silly in practice, such as this idea here that he and Gaomon have been timing themselves in their fights against rogue Digimon and constantly bringing that time down. It doesn’t take a genius to understand that each opponent they fight is different, so really it should be completely unreasonable to act like their times for each fight are at all comparable and that completing one fight faster than another means anything. (Plus, this is a thing that’s never going to come up again.)

Still, I do appreciate the narrative purpose of this bit – to show that Tohma is always pushing to improve himself and be better, despite being so incredibly hypercompetent at everything he does already. A lot like Masaru is always striving to challenge himself and get stronger despite already feeling like the strongest fighter in Japan! They are really not so different in a lot of ways.

Also, note how Tohma is getting to fight here, but it’s not the climactic fight of the episode. Just like I talked about for Yoshino in the previous episode: even though this is his introduction, this is not actually Tohma’s episode. It’s still Masaru’s. Tohma gets to have this fight and win it not for his own sake (the whole thing is so effortless that it’s not at all an interesting narrative from his point of view), but rather for the sake of Masaru’s conflict in this episode, because seeing how good Tohma is at this contributes to Masaru’s feelings of inferiority.

Agumon: “Wow…”

Having watched Tohma and Gaomon’s performance from HQ, even Agumon can’t help but be impressed. But then he catches himself and looks guiltily at Masaru, realising he’s just making him feel worse. Aww.

It is interesting to note how, despite all the similarities between him and Masaru, Agumon himself doesn’t seem nearly as bothered by being outclassed by Gaomon in the same way. After all, he’s still a kid who knows he’s got a lot to learn from his aniki; Agumon has never tried to present himself as the best person around at fighting like Masaru does.

Kudamon: “Understand now? This is the difference in ability between you and Tohma.”

Kudamon is apparently quite happy to imply that Masaru is significantly inferior to Tohma. Satsuma, though, doesn’t say anything to agree. I get the sense that Kudamon was a lot less on board with bringing Masaru into DATS, even though he ultimately accepted Satsuma’s decision to do so.

Masaru rushes out of the control room in frustration, with Agumon following.

Kudamon: “Aren’t you going to stop him?”

Satsuma: “Leave him alone.”

I like that Satsuma gets that this is something Masaru needs to figure out on his own, and that trying to talk to him directly about this is probably only going to make him feel worse.

(It’s this kind of approach of Satsuma’s that makes me think that him being so indirect about recruiting Masaru was on purpose out of him wanting Masaru to make the decision for himself.)

Masaru runs out of the DATS building through a tunnel that I’m pretty sure incidentally happens to be the same one we saw Agumon escaping through at the very beginning of the first episode.

Agumon: “Aniki… Why are you angry?”

Masaru: “Shut up!”

[Masaru trips in his running and falls to the ground]

Masaru: “Damn it…”

I enjoy how Masaru tripping over serves to illustrate how his unthinking recklessness doesn’t always end well.

Agumon: “Well, I think Tohma and Gaomon are nasty guys too, but…”

Aww, Agumon, trying to show that he’s still on his aniki’s side. And, yeah, he agrees that Tohma and Gaomon have been kind of dicks to them so far, but… (but still, he doesn’t get why Aniki is this upset about it.)

Masaru looks at Agumon with this bitter look for a moment, almost like he’s tempted to agree and just keep sniping at Tohma… but then he drops it.

Masaru: “No… It’s myself that I’m mad at, not them.”

Of course that’s been what this is really about. This is the first time in a long time that Masaru’s been given any sense that he’s not good enough at something he really wants to do. This isn’t about Tohma; Tohma’s presence just brought this out of him.

And hey, big props to Masaru for being willing to admit this! He couldn’t quite do so at HQ in front of everyone, and especially not in front of Tohma himself, but at least he’s willing to do so here in front of Agumon. A weaker person could easily have kept insisting that, no, this totally is all about that arrogant jerk Tohma, and avoided the necessary self-reflection, but Masaru is generally pretty good at being emotionally honest about things, even when it stings.

He also happens to pull the band-aid off his face at this moment, which I enjoy – needing his wounds patched up is a sign of weakness that he doesn’t like having.

Masaru: “Damn it! What am I doing? Really… what the hell am I doing?”

You’re doing your best, Masaru! Just like you’ve always, always been doing!

I really like how Masaru can’t actually properly articulate what the problem is. He knows there’s something wrong, something that’s frustrating him about himself, but he can’t put it into words. It doesn’t seem like he’s properly consciously aware of why he’s so into his whole fighting thing, and why he wanted to “fight stronger opponents” through joining DATS, so he can’t quite grasp why feeling like he’s not good enough at this bothers him so much.

Also, my compliments to the animators, and to Masaru’s VA. He looks and sounds like he’s on the brink of tears here, and it is good.

Masaru reaches the end of the tunnel… and who should he run into but the old man who gave him his Digivice, who’s sitting there cooking a fish like nothing is more natural.

Old man: “It’s hard lighting up a fire… The sparks go out easily whenever the wind gets a little too strong.”

Masaru: “Well, obviously!”

Old man: “But… once I get a larger flame going, it burns strongly no matter how much the wind blows. Fire is an interesting thing, isn’t it?”

What we learned about the old man last episode is that he finds Masaru interesting and likes randomly showing up whenever Masaru is acting in a way that he considers to be interesting. Apparently, he got wind somehow of the fact that Masaru has been having these doubts, and so he showed up to just… observe, and express his observations in metaphor form. He’s comparing Masaru to the fire, saying that right now his “sparks” aren’t quite strong enough to keep going when something challenges them – but that soon enough, if he just keeps growing more, he’ll become so strong that nothing will be able to stand in his way.

That said, I highly, highly doubt that the old man expects Masaru to actually learn anything from this metaphor – I’m sure he must know well enough to expect anything and everything metaphorical to go right over Masaru’s head. This isn’t actually an attempt to give Masaru advice. This guy just likes being a mysterious old man who makes abstract metaphors about people he finds interesting, that’s all. Sooner or later, Masaru’s flame is going to burn so brightly that nothing at all can blow it out, and won’t that be fascinating to watch?

(I agree, old man. It will. That’s why I’m here, too.)

[Masaru stares intently at the fire the old man has managed to light]

Masaru: “This is…”

And naturally, Masaru, who wouldn’t understand a metaphor if it punched him in the face, completely failed to pick up on what the old man was getting at. Instead, what this metaphor also coincidentally (or maybe not so coincidentally?) happened to be was some pretty useful advice on how to deal with the very literal, practical problem he’s been having today.

Before he can think on that further, Masaru hears a conversation over his earpiece. There’s more PetitMeramon signals, in a place where gas tanks are – not a great place for living fireballs to be flying around – and Yoshino and Tohma are 10 minutes away in their car.

Masaru: “Leave it to me!”

Yoshino: “Huh? What are you saying?”

Tohma: “You can’t do it!”

Masaru: “Shut up! I can get there in 3 minutes!”

The perfect opportunity for Masaru to get the chance to prove himself! Under other circumstances, it’d be arguably better for Masaru to stay back and leave this to Tohma again. Having shown some self-reflection on things, even Masaru himself would probably be willing to accept that and relent. But in an emergency like this, when he’s the closest one to it? Damn it, he has to at least try.

Since the “there” in question was only described as being “Area B-42”, what we have to conclude from this is that somehow Masaru has magically memorised all those location codes already. He doesn’t seem to be making this up to save face; he’s looking at an area off in the distance that he’d probably reasonably be able to sprint to in that time.

(Well, either that or he just assumed based on knowing that this is the only remotely nearby area with gas tanks. Maybe it’s that.)

Satsuma: “I won’t approve of this!”

Masaru: “Whatever, just watch! I’ll get ‘em this time!”

This isn’t Masaru arrogantly trying to show off and refusing to acknowledge that he’s unsuited for this. This is Masaru genuinely caring about trying to prevent the crisis if he can – and this time, he does have at least some idea of how to go about doing so.

Masaru makes it to the gas tanks, where there are indeed three PetitMeramon floating around.

Masaru: “Agumon! Use Baby Burner!”

I’m… not sure how Masaru knew that Agumon even has an attack called Baby Burner, since he’s never used it before. I would say he could have had some kind of offscreen fight as a DATS member already in the three days he’s been here, but Yoshino’s response to his failure earlier suggested that today was indeed his first proper DATS mission.

Agumon: “My attacks don’t work on them!”

Masaru: “You heard me, do it!”

Agumon: “Okay…”

Agumon is such a loyal follower! He doesn’t understand why this is a good idea – in fact, it seems like a thoroughly bad one – but he trusts his aniki’s judgement and does it anyway, even as it only seems to make the PetitMeramon stronger and Masaru keeps ordering more.

After enough fire, the three PetitMeramon grow strong enough to fuse together and evolve into Meramon. (Hey, at least this one’s a non-partnered evolution that makes sense to be happening right now.)

Agumon: “It evolved! What now, Aniki?”

[Masaru grins]

Masaru: “This is perfect!”

I love Masaru’s cocky taunting face here. He knows he’s got this, and he’s so ready to just have a good old fight again, like always.

Masaru: “Fire sparks easily go out whenever the wind blows on them. But… Once they burst into flame…!”

[Masaru leaps to punch the Meramon quite solidly in the face and lands with his Digisoul flaring]

Masaru: “They won’t be extinguished so easily!”

This was what he got out of the old man’s words. Not metaphorical advice about his emotional struggles, of course not – instead, just very literal advice on how to punch fire. He couldn’t punch the PetitMeramon because they were small enough that the wind of his punches just blew the flames out before he could connect. But if he makes the fire bigger and stronger? Then it’s no problem!

And you know what this is? This is Masaru using strategy. It’s a strategy that he needed someone else to nudge him towards – he’s still not really the kind of person to come up with something like this on his own – and it’s also a much more straightforward, reckless, Masaru-style strategy than someone cautious like Tohma would ever dare to use. But hey. It worked.

(Also, please appreciate this ridiculous shot of the DATS car skidding sideways as it dramatically arrives on the scene. That is not how cars work, but okay. …In fact, surely it’s been less than seven minutes that Masaru’s been here; I guess Yoshino floored it to get here as fast as she could, hence the dramatic skidding? She drives like a badass.)

Tohma: “He got it to evolve on purpose… by making the fire stronger…”

See, even Tohma appreciates what the strategy was, even if he’s kind of gobsmacked at it being something so reckless.

And then, as usual, GeoGreymon wins the fight in a single attack. But again, I don’t really mind. The interesting part was getting to this point in the first place.

The Meramon disintegrates into three eggs, appropriate for the three PetitMeramon it came from – but it kinda raises some questions that this single Adult-level Digimon was effectively three individual Digimon in one. It also raises some questions that PetitMeramon was able to multiply itself just by its embers setting stuff on fire, and each of those multiplied offshoots also had its own individual egg. Is this just a particularly unique method of Digimon reproduction? I am definitely not supposed to be thinking about it this much.

Masaru: “How’s that? I was able to take out the PetitMeramon, too!”

Having shown that he can do just as good of a job as Tohma after all, Masaru has bounced right back from his self-doubt and is feeling good about himself again. This kid doesn’t stay down for long.

Tohma: “Don’t let this go to your head. You were just lucky this time.”

It really was not luck. Masaru used an actual strategy that he had good reason to believe would work. Tohma himself even just about acknowledged this during the fight… but not now, now that Masaru is properly listening to him and he’d have to acknowledge that to Masaru.

(A bit like how Masaru only acknowledged his own sense of inadequacy when Tohma wasn’t around.)

Masaru: “It’s just like I told you. The ones who don’t give up until the end win the fight!”

Masaru claims this is like he told Tohma, but is it really about him? After all, Masaru himself was the one who had almost given up for a moment. It’s more like he’s saying this to remind himself that he shouldn’t have done that and should have just believed he could do it all along. (Like the old man said, he just needs to let his sparks grow into a bigger, unstoppable flame!)

We cut right from the location of the fight back to DATS HQ, while the argument amusingly continues as if there was no timeskip at all. They were probably arguing like this all the way back in the car, too. (Poor Yoshino.)

Tohma: “Don’t be absurd. You don’t come up with any strategy or tactics. Do you think using force all the time will let you win at everything?”

He literally did come up with a strategy, though, Tohma! Maybe a strategy that relied on force, maybe not the kind of careful, cautious strategy that you’d use, but that doesn’t mean it didn’t count as a strategy!

Masaru: “Hah, sounds like a sore loser to me.”

Yeah, I think Masaru’s spot on with this one. Tohma refusing to acknowledge Masaru’s approach in that fight as a legitimate if risky strategy really does seem like he’s just being a sore loser.

(Though I like how Masaru himself isn’t even trying to argue that it was strategic of him. Clearly that’s not something that he sees as being worth bragging about.)

Tohma: “What did you say?”

Masaru: “Wanna make somethin’ of it? I’ll knock you out with one hit to the face this time!”

Oh my god, Masaru. Look at this competitive dork. Now that he’s got his confidence back and feels like he is just as good or better than Tohma after all, he’s ready to have a rematch in the ring and certain that this totally means he’ll win this time!

Satsuma shuts them both up with his, quoth Yoshino, “thunderous demon roar” – apparently a regular thing of his – and declares that Masaru and Tohma will be working together as a team from now on. Naturally, they are both Not Happy about this.

Yoshino: “This is the worst…”

Neither is Yoshino. This is a catchphrase of hers, which is sometimes used when things are going badly in a crisis, but is just as often used simply to express her sheer exasperation at the people around her. I love her role as the Only Sane Man among these two ridiculous over-the-top dorks she’s wound up working with.

Overall thoughts

I like this episode a lot! It’s a great introduction to Tohma, specifically in the context of him serving as a foil to Masaru.

There will be a lot more things about Tohma’s own issues and situation (like I said, there’s a reason for all the genius stuff, I promise) that we’ll eventually get into, but that’ll be a gradual process, because Tohma is not the sort of person to talk about his personal problems to anyone else. For now, since Masaru is the single main character of this series and we therefore see a lot of things through his perspective, it’s appropriate that Tohma is introduced in terms of how he differs from Masaru (as well as a few hints at their similarities).

Then, because of this, we get spend a lot of the episode on Masaru feeling outclassed and how he deals with that, and it’s delightful and subtle and I love it. The first two episodes were setting up the deal with Masaru encountering Agumon and joining DATS, but now that we’ve settled into a little more of a status quo, it’s the perfect time to start digging into Masaru’s character and have things begin to challenge his conception of his own strength. There will be more of this, and I’m looking very much forward to covering those episodes in particular.

This won’t really ever come up again, but it’s incidentally neat to see Masaru struggling with an enemy he can’t punch, and eventually coming up with a strategy by interpreting the old man’s metaphor about his issues literally, because of course he does.

I also just love the old man being there making metaphors about Masaru’s issues simply because he felt like it and finds Masaru interesting. He serves as a nice little narrative device to help draw the audience’s attention to when things are going on with Masaru, as we’ll see in a few more episodes in this arc. I can’t help but appreciate that about the old man, because it’s also basically what I’m doing with this commentary.

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[Dub comparison]

#digimon #digimon savers #masaru daimon #tohma h norstein #the digivice old man

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pennamesmith · 4 years

Text

Romeo and Skeletor

Double Trouble needs dating advice. The Super Pal Trio is here to help. More Skeletor stories!

“Remember,” Wrong Hordak recited, “recovery comes from connection!”

Several hands went up. Most belonged to clones. This was a common and welcome sight in Wrong Hordak’s Ex-Horde Therapy Group.

“And no,” Wrong Hordak continued, anticipating everyone’s question, “that does not necessarily mean romantic connection, or even connection with another sentient being. It means that in order to heal our traumas, we must be a part of the world around us, and acknowledge the world as a part of us.”

Most of the hands went down. Thoughtful murmurs rippled through the crowd. It was the end of another day of helping and healing. With a few more words of wisdom Wrong Hordak closed the meeting, and the assembled members began to stand and make their way out of the room. Most seemed sanguine and cheerful, but one stayed seated and watched the others wearily.

Double Trouble was the group’s newest and most skeptical member. They were trying, they really were, but it wasn’t easy. A lifetime of artful deception did not exactly lend itself to sharing or emotional honesty.

They had their reasons for being there, though.

Wrong Hordak, effervescent as ever, looked over and winked. “Another successful session, my most exalted paramour!” he told Double Trouble proudly. “Now then, I must consult with Perfuma about the itinerary for next week’s field trip to Mystacor. But tonight, I hope you are prepared to be dazzled by my famous quiche!” He beamed brightly.

Double Trouble worked very hard to maintain a calm expression while their stomach did acrobatic flip-flops. “My breath is bated, darling,” they finally managed, before scurrying off to the other side of the room.

The thespian cursed, internally. It should not be this difficult for a shapeshifter to hide a blush.

Closer to the door, Hordak was showing Adora something on a data pad. Double Trouble wended a wide circle around them, even as Adora gasped in surprise and began babbling what certainly seemed like juicy gossip. They simply weren’t in the mood.

Outside, Catra, Scorpia, and Entrapta were strolling away together, while the scorpion princess spoke excitedly about something called ‘Super Pal Trio Game Night.’ Double Trouble pricked their ears — this, perhaps, was a more promising prospect for their problem.

They took a step forward, and were immediately interrupted.

“Where do you think you’re going, hmm?”

Besides Perfuma, Wrong Hordak’s other assistant for his therapy group was ‘Skeletor,’ one of Entrapta’s eccentric bots. Once, he had been a part of Horde Prime’s drone army. Now, he had a nasally voice, a talent for self improvement, and a puppy.

The puppy’s name was Relay.

“How’s this for a surprise?” Skeletor said, holding Relay and patting the robotic canine gently on the head. “I’m considering putting him on a leash!”

“That’s very nice dear, but you’ll have to excuse me,” Double Trouble deflected. “I’ve got issues right now.” They began to move past the skinny robot, before a thought occurred to them.

“Actually, you might be able to help me out with something. Tell me, how do you feel about aiding and abetting identity fraud? I’ll make it worth your while.”

“Mehehehehe! Just like the old days!” Skeletor cackled. “All right, you’ve got yourself a deal! What’s your plan?”

Shadows Over Salineas was going swimmingly.

It wasn’t really a game night, more of a game afternoon, but that hadn’t stopped Scorpia from bringing a tower of boxes into Entrapta’s Bright Moon lab. An entire world of cardboard and plastic was spread out before the three women.

“I am going to finish this Sword of Protection quest!” Catra angrily declared as she moved her game piece back and forth. “No matter how long it takes!”

“Okay, but the Evil Horde already has a lot of points at the Princess Alliance table,” Entrapta cautioned, gesturing to another part of the board. “Plus they’ve got a lot of tanks in front of the castle.”

“Anyone want to help me battle the Laughing Dragon?” Scorpia spoke up from behind a clawful of cards. “I’m gonna —”

She was cut short as the laboratory door suddenly opened and Skeletor slouched inside, wearing a miserable expression.

“This is the worst day of my life!” Skeletor moaned, flopping bodily across the table. Game pieces flew in every direction and clattered on the floor. The other three exchanged nervous glances.

Catra tossed her cards aside. “Well, I guess this is what we’re doing now. What’s the matter, boneface?”

“You’ve got to help me!” Skeletor blubbered. “When are you goody-goody fools going to understand? I care for no-one and no-one cares for me!” He shook his fists and produced a rose tied to a card covered in cartoony hearts.

Scorpia tilted her head. “Is that a flower?”

“It is a flower!” Skeletor howled. “The bitter rose! From a secret admirer.” He clutched it to his chest lovingly.

“Seriously?” Catra floundered. “Does somebody actually have a crush on that goof?”

“I know it sounds strange,” Skeletor retorted. “Never mind that!”

Entrapta rubbed her chin thoughtfully. “So, to be clear. You’re happy about getting the rose?”

“Yes, I am!” Skeletor shouted.

“But it’s a problem because…?”

“I live to be bad!” Skeletor whined. “How else can I act when I’m surrounded by such fools?” The robot swooned again. “Nice? Doesn’t sound like much fun to me! Yuck! What a disgusting idea!”

“Oh, I get it!” Entrapta grinned. “Skeletor needs us to teach him about love!”

Scorpia’s eyes sparkled. “A Super Pal Trio rescue mission? For love? I accept without any further questions!”

“Wait, wait,” Catra protested. “Stop. No. None of this makes any sense. Entrapta, is this another one of your secret friendship experiments?”

“Nuh-uh,” the scientist shook her head. “But... it is unexpected. Skeletor, are you sure you’re feeling all right?”

Skeletor looked uncomfortable. “Certainly! Um… Tell me about the loneliness of good! Is it equal to the loneliness of evil?”

Entrapta seemed suspicious. “Hang on,” she said, peering more closely at Skeletor. “Something isn’t quite right here.”

At that moment, Skeletor walked into the room, again. This time he was holding Relay and a fresh armload of barbarian romance novels.

“I can’t do it,” he admitted with an apologetic shrug, sheepishly handing back the books. “And, I do not look like you.”

“Oh phoo. I went too far, didn’t I?” the other Skeletor sighed, in a completely different voice. “I knew this wasn’t going to work.”

In a flash of dark light, Skeletor morphed into a decidedly more reptilian shape. Double Trouble huffed and tossed their hair back. “Well, that was different, at least. I’ve never done a robot before!” They paused. “Not in that sense, anyway.”

Catra started out of her chair. “What are you doing here?” she demanded.

“Just what I said.” Double Trouble sat back down on the table and nonchalantly studied their nails. “I need advice. Romantic advice. And since you three are all half of some of the oddest couples on the planet, I thought I might start here.”

“Okay,” Entrapta said, already beginning to take notes. “But you’ve come to me for that before. Why the disguise?”

Double Trouble looked away and muttered something.

“What was that?”

“I said it’s because I was embarrassed, all right?” Double Trouble crossed their arms and pouted. “This is not something I usually need help with. I’m supposed to be the one who’s cool and in control. I’m Double Trouble! But now I keep feeling things! In my mind, and my body! Making my guts act all weird, and my brain stop working, and… gah!”

“Those are called emotions, Dee Tee,” Catra deadpanned.

“Plus, you and Wrong Hordak have been going steady for a while now,” Scorpia added. “What’s the matter? Oh no! Have you lost… the spark?” She gasped, claws to her face.

“Just the opposite. Wrongie is perfect! He’s always in a good mood, he always wants to spend time with me, he always knows the right thing to say, and he’s just so darn cute! All the time!” Double Trouble’s face sank. “And sooner or later he’s going to realize that I’m not perfect, and it’s all just an act.”

“You don’t have to be perfect,” Entrapta pointed out, looking up from her notes.

“This is just like what happens in Romeo and Julian!” Double Trouble wailed, ignoring her.

“What?” asked Skeletor.

Double Trouble sniffled. “It’s a play. Someone in the Bright Moon army wrote it and it’s been getting rave reviews in all the theatre magazines — oh, but that’s not important! We’re talking about me!” The lizard flailed their hands helplessly. “What I mean is, it’s like we’re from two different worlds!”

“What, Horde World and Etheria?” Scorpia guessed.

“I’m thinking more Innocent Baby World and Cynical Opportunist World,” Catra cut in.

“Hey!” Double Trouble snapped. “I am not a cynic! Anymore!”

They turned to Scorpia. “But I can still make it work! I just need more research. Your girlfriend is all about this self-care nonsense. How do you deal with that?”

Scorpia got a dreamy look in her eyes. “Yeah, Perfuma’s pretty great. She’s kind, and patient with me, and she knows all kinds of meditation stuff, which is good because hey, funny story, it turns out I’ve actually got a lot of pent-up anxiety from —”

“Ugh! Useless! Next!” Double Trouble pointed to Entrapta. “You! Space bats. How do they even work?”

“Good question! I could share some of my research on Hordak with you,” Entrapta suggested. “It’s more of a hobby though, so I’ve only got a few terabytes of data. Did you know their species has an entire sub-language of ear movements? It’s fascinating!”

Double Trouble paled. “Um. Do you have an abridged version, or…?”

“Look,” Catra interrupted. “I think you’re coming at this the wrong way. First off, you can’t control what other people do or feel.”

Double Trouble narrowed their eyes. “That’s a bit rich coming from you, kitten.”

“I have been doing a lot of self-reflection the last few years, okay?” Catra growled back. “And trust me, trying to be the coolest, the strongest, the best? It doesn’t work.”

She looked across at Entrapta and Scorpia, and fiddled with the wedding ring on her finger. “Sooner or later you have to show your real self. Even if that’s uncomfortable. You can’t connect with someone that way until you’re willing to be weak in front of them.”

Double Trouble regarded Catra for a long time while their face registered a range of unreadable emotions.

“Fine,” they finally groaned, defeated. “But can you at least help me think of something nice to do for our dinner tonight?”

Catra smiled. Entrapta and Scorpia squeaked in excitement.

“For that, you’ll need my help!” said Skeletor. “I’ve longed for this moment!”

Wrong Hordak looked up brightly from his cooking. “You are here! Come in, come in!” He swept Double Trouble up in an enormous hug.

The lizard blushed and did not try to hide it. “I wouldn’t miss this for the world, darling.” With a flourish they revealed a rose and a box of distinctively tiny chocolates, which Wrong Hordak accepted gleefully.

“Now then, why don’t I stand back and let you impress me for a while?”

Wrong Hordak glowed with excitement.

“Impressive?” Skeletor said, somewhere far away. “You boob, it was spectacular!”

#spop #spop fanfic #skeletor #double trouble #wrong hordak #wrong trouble #catra #entrapta #scorpia #super pal trio #DT had everyone fooled until they quoted Skeletor from the live-action movie instead of the 80s cartoons #Romeo and Julian was written by General Juliet #it's a romantic comedy and everyone lives

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icyharrington · 4 years

Text

Is It Wrong?- THE PREQUEL- Part 1 (Michael Langdon X Reader)

so basically,,,, i took my adhd meds for class this morning, and then suddenly got super inspired to write this, so i figured i couldnt waste the focus and wrote this whole ass thing in a few hours. this is the first part of a 3-part prequel series, which details the events leading up to the first part of iiw! just a whole lot more teen angst, drama, fuckboy michael, and more... there isn’t going to be any SMUT smut for obvious reasons, but in a future part there is going to be some dirty stuff ;) anyway i know this will prob flop but this is the first full length fic i’ve written in months and i had a lot of fun writing it, so ima post regardless ^__^

plot: things are turning upside for you now that the biggest fuckboy in school, michael langdon, is about to become your stepbrother. if you think shit is crazy now, wait til you find out that this is just the prequel 😏

warnings: underage drinking, talk of sexual shit, teen angst, sexual tension, taboo relationships

wc: 4.2k

It wasn’t like you didn’t want your dad to be happy.

You did, of course you did.

You’d seen him, engulfed in his loneliness, floating from day to listless day like some kind of cheesy Victorian spectre. Too many times you’d found him alone at night, one hand cradling a glass of sewer-brown liquor, the other thumbing through worn photo albums extracted from dust-ridden shelves in the living room. You hadn’t known your mother well- she’d died back when you were still in diapers, but what you did know was that she’d been a vibrant light in your father’s world that had been unjustly snuffed out in its prime. He was a good father to you, and you knew you made him happy despite the dull ache ever-present in his heart, but it was evident that deep down he craved a companionship you could never provide.

So of course you were glad when he met Miriam. Of course you were glad when you’d seen his beaming smile, sharing the news, with the giddiness of a teenage girl in love, that he’d found somebody. He was practically glowing, that night he’d gone out for their first date. You’d known it’d been special to him, because he’d shelled out a few hundred to treat them both to a fancy dinner; he’d even gotten her a bouquet of flowers on the drive there.

You hadn’t said anything when he’d gushed to you the next day about how he’d found the one, despite having known her for only a week; sure, he was rushing into things, but at least he was happy! And that was all you wanted- for him to be happy.

That was why you were especially crushed when you finally met Miriam’s teenage son, whom your father had briefly mentioned with a passing “he goes to your high school, maybe you know him”.

There were so many boys at your school that it was impossible to guess who your potential stepbrother might be. The prospect that you might know him didn’t bother you too much, though you did think it might be a little awkward upon first meeting, but really what did it matter? A little bit of teenage shyness was a small price to pay for your father’s newfound happiness.

That is, until you met him.

So really, it wasn’t like you didn’t want your dad to be happy.

That wasn’t the case at all.

You just really, really, wished he’d fallen in love with anyone other than the mother of Michael fucking Langdon.

ii.

“Oh, you’re so pretty,” Miriam gushed over a glass of Chardonnay, which had already been defaced with aubergine lip prints around the golden rim. “Gosh, I just wish I had your hair. Mine was fried from years of coloring, so I just chopped it all off!”

You smiled sweetly, observing your father’s glimmering eyes as he hung onto every word that rolled off her tongue, menus still stacked neatly in the middle of the table as you awaited the fourth and final guest. The three of you had been there for fifteen minutes already, and still her son had not arrived.

I guess his study session is running late, she’d explained, after seeing your furrowed brows at her lack of accompaniment. It was the first time you were meeting your father’s new love interest and her son, and you were rapidly growing more and more anxious in anticipation of the big reveal.

Studying, you’d thought, racking your brain. So maybe he’s one of the nerdy teacher’s pet types? You could certainly live with that; there were a great deal of others you could think of who would be far worse to potentially become step-siblings with.

“Thanks, Ms… Mead, did you say it was?”

You weren’t sure you knew of any boys whose last name was Mead; he definitely had to be someone you hardly knew.

“Oh, honey, call me Miriam,” she said warmly, and you nodded, unsure of what to say next.

Miriam was certainly not what you’d imagined your father’s girlfriend to be like, not that you cared either way; she sported short, dark hair with vampy makeup, clad in all black with a tasteful leather jacket to match. She was also a bit older than you’d anticipated, with fine lines adorning her rounded face, but again, none of that mattered to you at all. She seemed perfectly sweet, and you had no complaints about her thus far.

“Okay, Miriam,” you said, feeling somewhat peculiar addressing an adult by their first name, “so, remind me, how’d you guys meet again?”

“Well, it’s a funny story, really,” Miriam chuckled, plucking a dinner roll from the woven basket across from her and dropping it onto her plate. Her dark eyes shifted from you to your father, poising an impeccably groomed raven brow. “Should you tell it, or should I?”

“Oh, you should, definitely,” your father said, sipping his wine.

“Okay, okay. Well, we were in the meat section at the grocery store when we both reached for the last steak on sale. So I looked at him, and I told him- oh my, this is embarrassing- (your dad’s name), you finish!”

Your father looked like he was about to bust out into laughter, and, suppressing a snort, he blurted, “she said she’d cut off my hands if I took it!”

Immediately after the words left his lips, the two fell into boisterous hysterics that ushered forward a few disapproving glances from the stuffy rich assholes at the next table over, and you couldn’t help but laugh a little yourself. Well… she definitely was a character, but as long as your father was being kept entertained…

“Hey mom,” came a sudden, inappropriately loud male voice from behind you, so out of place that you nearly jumped from your seat. “I was helping Dan with the world war three chapter in our textbook, he sucks at geography shit.”

The voice’s owner revealed himself as a tall, blond boy, who promptly slid into the empty chair beside you, chiseled face slightly obscured by the deep shadows resulting from the dimness of the restaurant’s ambient lighting.

This was, indeed, somebody that you knew, and you blinked twice to be sure that your eyes weren’t playing tricks on you.

It took you a few seconds to register the direness of the situation at hand, but once the thought processed in your mind, you about descended into an out-of-body experience.

This couldn’t be.

No way.

No motherfucking way.

You’d never been all too much of a religious person, but in that moment, you found yourself silently begging whatever higher power was out there that this was all just some sick, cosmic prank.

The boy turned his head to give you a good, uncomfortably long look, stupidly perfect mouth twisting into an amused sideways grin, and then he spoke. “Ohh shit, (y/n)? (Y/n) (y/l/n)?”

He spoke your name like it was a punchline, tongue darting out to lick his teeth like a lizard about to gobble up some poor, helpless cricket as you sat there with your jaw unhinged. You were at a loss for words, or at least almost, managing to croak out a pathetic, puny, “Michael.”

“Oh, good! You guys know each other already!” Miriam exclaimed, seemingly oblivious to the complete and utter horror that had just about finished swallowing you whole.

Michael let out a snort, roughly translating to ‘uhh, yeah, not that well… I’d never be caught dead hanging around with someone like (y/n)’, and you grimaced. “Yeah, a little bit. You were in math class with me last year, right?”

You cleared your throat, forcing yourself to regain your composure for fear of feeding into this complete asshole’s already massive ego. Yeah, in fact, you had been in math class with him last year, and, not-so-coincidentally, that very same class had turned out to be the one you dreaded the most.

Michael Langdon was the most insufferable, mind-numbing, self-obsessed asshole that you’d ever had the displeasure of knowing; he was easily the most popular boy in the grade, and it was clear he was fully aware of his own high school bullshit prestige. He was loud, cocky and obnoxious; the type of fuckboy- yes, you knew the word fuckboy was overplayed, but in this case there was no other way to describe him- who’d loudly brag about his sexual escapades in the middle of the hallway to his flock of adoring fuckboy minions. He was an I-don’t-do-relationships type, a U-up-text-at-3am type, a Yo-dude-did-you-see-Zoe-Benson’s-tits-today type, a bro-I’m-so-fucking-baked-right-now type. Just the sound of his voice from across a crowded hallway was enough to make you physically recoil. And the worst part?

Every-fucking-body loved him.

Your complaints about him during lunch would only result in your friends cooing dreamily, as though he were some kind of sympathetic creature that needed babying: But he’s so cute, they’d say, twirling locks of their hair and fiddling with their bracelets. I’m sure he’s not that bad.

But he was that bad, and if they took off their shit-stained, teenage hormone-clouded rose tinted glasses for only a second, they’d see exactly what you saw.

It wasn’t only the students, either. He was able to get away with everything and anything he pleased, whether it be sneaking sips of vodka in a water bottle between classes or ditching class to smoke a joint behind the bleachers. There’d even been rumors that he’d fucked some senior girl in the handicap stall during the autumn pep rally while the rest of the student body was packed like sardines in the sticky-hot gymnasium, subjected to incremental barks from the football coach to scream louder and louder.

How the hell was somebody as pleasant as Miriam the mother of such an incurable douchebag? And how, in all the unholy realms of hell, did your luck get so miserably bad that she ended up with your father?

It was all so fucking unfortunate that you almost wanted to laugh. And you probably would have, if not for the chance that you might puke all over your nice new sweater if you opened your mouth.

“You smell funny, hon,” said Miriam before you could reply. “Was Dan burning incense in his room?”

Oh, god. So she was one of those oblivious parents. You rolled your eyes; it made a lot of sense when you thought about it.

“Huh? Oh. Um, yeah. Incense,” Michael said, before suddenly extending his arm across the table to your father. “Oh shit, how rude of me. I’m Michael. Nice to meet you, man.”

Your father seemed unfazed my Michael’s distinct lack of manners as he accepted the boy’s hand and shook it, and you felt yet another knot twist up in the pit of your stomach as you realized that your father, too, had somehow been cast under Michael’s spell.

“Michael, we talked about this,” Miriam said under her breath, like she was scolding a child who didn’t know any better. “Keep the potty mouth to a minimal when we’re out in public, especially while we’re in such a nice restaurant.”

“Oh, sh…oot, sorry, mom,” Michael said with a faux-sheepish smile, his eyes flickering with amusement despite his supposed remorse. “And sorry to you too, sir. Bad habits.”

“Don’t worry about it, Mike- can I call you Mike?” your father said as they released hands, moving his to rest atop Miriam’s on the cloth-sheathed table. “I remember what it was like being a boy your age.”

You scoffed, loud enough that the table fell silent for a moment, and quickly you disguised it with a cough. Your cheeks went hot as all eyes laid on you, and you frantically scanned your brain for something to fill the silence with.

“So, um,” you said, clearing your throat. “Michael’s, uh, how come Michael’s last name isn’t Mead?”

Fuck. That sounded so fucking stupid. Instinctively, you felt your eyes wander to Michael to see if he was laughing at you, which you hated yourself for; why should his stupid, pea-brained opinion mean anything to you anyway? As much as you wanted to distance yourself from that idiotic, made-up high school hierarchy, you always wound up finding yourself being sucked back in, it seemed.

“Well, my late husband’s last name was Langdon, and since he was kind of a dirtbag, I decided not to keep his name after he passed,” Miriam said slowly, as if taking very careful thought to word herself correctly. You took in a breath; this seemed like a whole new can of worms that you hadn’t meant to open up.

“Hey, c’mon, don’t talk about dad like that,” said Michael, his tone only half-playful, eyebrow cocking as he flashed his mother a knowing look.

“You try being cheated on multiple times, Michael. Then you’ll see that dirtbag is really a nice way of putting it.”

Oh, sure, you thought bitterly. As if Michael fucking Langdon is even remotely capable of understanding someone else’s pain.

You took this as your cue to stand up from your seat, mumbling something about needing to use the restroom before scurrying off in the opposite direction as fast as you could without drawing attention to yourself. If ten minutes with Michael as your psuedo-stepbrother got to you this badly, you could only imagine how awful your life was about to get.

You could only hope that your father would find some reason to nip things in the bud with Miriam, but right now, that appeared to be an unlikely prospect.

iii.

“Give me one good reason I shouldn’t end my shit right here and now,” you griped to your best friend, who sat crosslegged on your bed as you stood idly before your floor-length mirror, arms dangling limply at your sides in an unintentional stance of defeat. Your face was one that you hardly recognized anymore, forehead creased with worry and eyes shadowed by bruise-colored rings from a seemingly endless barrage of sleepless nights; a week ago, your father had gleefully announced his and Miriam’s engagement; you of course, as his loving daughter, had to behave as though you hadn’t just received the worst news of your life, which somehow you’d pulled off (for a second you wondered why you’d never taken up theater, seeing at how convincing your acting could be sometimes). It was like you’d been plucked from the familiarity of your boring, normal world and dropped into your own personally tailored hell without any warning at all, though you couldn’t think of a single thing you’d done bad enough to warrant you deserving this. “The worst person on the planet is about to be my fucking stepbrother and nobody else seems to think this is a big deal!”

Your best friend shook her head, letting out a snort as if any of this was even remotely funny in the slightest. “So your stepbrother is hot and cool and he pisses you off. They literally make porn about that.”

You resisted the urge to take her by the shoulders and shake her until some semblance of sense entered her head, instead shoving your hands into the pockets of your jeans with a loud huff. “Yeah, but this isn’t fucking pornhub, (best friend’s name), this is real life! And I’d rather skin myself alive than sleep with that walking STD.”

“You have a lot more self respect than I do. It’s admirable,” she said, still startlingly calm for your liking, and you were beginning to believe that she’d never understand the mental turmoil you were currently suffering with. “Personally I’d ride him into the sunset, whether he had a herpes dick or not.”

You gagged, shaking your head with adamant disgust. Was she really that fucking horny? “You’re sick, you know that?”

“Sick for diiiiick,” she sang back, batting her eyelashes playfully at you. You turned away, scrounging up every weary shred of self restraint within you not to scream.

“Look, (b/f/n). I’m being serious right now. If you fuck him, or suck his dick, or whatever, I will literally never speak to you again.” Your tone was stern, and you faced her again to see whether your seriousness had computed in the hormonal wasteland that was her brain. There was an extended pause as she blinked at you, tilting her head to one side thoughtfully as she chewed her lipgloss-slick bottom lip.

“I mean, he wouldn’t fuck me anyways,” she finally said, still infuriatingly chipper. “I’m nobody. And he’s, like, royalty.”

“Jesus fucking Christ! I don’t care whether you think you have a chance with him!” You realized too late that you were nearly shouting, so you took in a shaky gulp of oxygen and coaxed yourself to soften your tone. The last thing you needed right now was for people to think you were losing your mind, although sometimes that was exactly what you felt like was happening. “Please, just promise me you won’t? I just need one aspect of my life not to involve him. Please?”

“Okay, fine,” she said, drawing her knees to her chest and settling her chin on top. “If it really matters that much to you, I’ll just shift my thirst to Dan Mott instead. That boy is a fucking snack and a half.”

A wave of almost-relief cascaded over your body, and you closed your eyes, letting yourself become one with this momentary victory.

One year. Just one stupid, insignificant year until I can go away to college and forget all about him.

If you could survive that much, you told yourself, you’d be able survive anything.

You just hoped that intoxicating spell of his wasn’t strong enough to bring your best friend into his web of bullshit, alongside all the other girls who’d become entangled along the way.

If she did, you’d be stranded, left to run from Michael and his ever-expanding army all on your own.

iv.

In what seemed like a blink of an eye, the dreaded date of your father’s wedding ceremony arrived; now you stood amidst a small group of distant relatives at the subdued reception party, seeking refuge from the disturbing thought that, legally, Michael Langdon was now your brother, at the open bar.

You and your best friend had decided to make something of a game out of how many drinks you could finagle from the bartender without any adults noticing, which had ultimately proved to be pointless- an hour into the reception, your father had staggered over with two overflowing dirty Shirleys, thrusting them towards the two of you with a big, sloppy grin on his face.

To say he was in a good mood would be a severe understatement- the man was jovial, and you almost felt guilty for hating the circumstances of his marriage so much. By the raised-brow looks your best friend had been shooting at you all night, you knew she was thinking the same thing: that you were being selfish for worrying so much about yourself when this was the best thing that’d happened to your father in years. And maybe it was true; maybe you’d been so wrapped up in your own teen angst bullshit that you’d willingly blinded yourself from the truth. So, with your father’s beaming face dancing in the back of your mind, you pushed any thought about Michael back to the dredges where they belonged.

Fuck Michael Langdon. You couldn’t allow him the satisfaction of knowing that you were distraught, though you’d surely already made that pretty obvious over the past few months (he’d wasted no time in taunting you about it, seeming to relish in your death glares and eye rolls- hey, future sis! he’d crooned at you as you passed his table in the cafeteria one afternoon, nearly causing you to trip and spill your perfectly mediocre iced coffee all over yourself as his friends cackled like demented hyenas).

I’m not gonna let him bother me anymore.

I’m not-

“SIS-TERRRRRR!”

Okay, this had to be some kind of divine test of will.

A blazer-glad arm flung itself around your shoulders and you flinched, immediately jerking away from your intoxicated stepbrother (god, it felt weird to refer to him that way) whose brash motions had sent you both stumbling.

“Getting shitfaced at your mom’s wedding… classy,” you spat, crossing your arms in front of your chest and narrowing your eyes at the blond-haired boy.

He was, admittedly, good-looking (only by conventional standards, of course); his lightly gelled blond hair had long since come undone, now soft and unkempt from hours of attention-whorish dancing, but you thought the disheveled look suited him better anyway (since his whole thing was to look like a grimy, rugged fuckboy, not because you personally found it attractive, obviously). He’d undone the top few buttons of his white top (no doubt the only formal article of clothing he owned), which was now stained beyond foreseeable repair with a colorful variety of liquids, and there was a bead of sweat traveling from his slick forehead to his model-sharp jaw. Even in disarray, he looked good, and you couldn’t help but hate him for it.

“God, you are so uptight,” he said, pale eyes flickering towards the multicolored ceiling in exaggerated annoyance as he dragged out his syllables with leisure. “You need to relax, set up a dick appointment or something. Or pussy appointment, I don’t know what you’re into.”

Your mouth fell open at this remark, too stunned by his vulgarity to even get angry with your friend, who had dissolved into a fit of giggles beside you; it wasn’t that you were some pearl-clutching grandmother- you had no issue discussing sexual matters with your friends, and in fact some would even say you had a perverted sense of humor. But this? This was different: something about the way those words had fallen from Michael’s mouth made you feel dirty.

At your lack of response, Michael flashed a pearly grin that could only be categorized as evil, and he crossed his arms to mimic your stance. “Oh, sorry. I forgot that you’re probably still a virgin.”

He glanced over to your friend, whose feeble attempts to suppress her second wave of laughter had proven unsuccessful, before averting his gaze back to you. “Aw, don’t feel bad, (y/n). There’s nothing wrong with being a late bloomer.”

Then, as if to punctuate his words, he smirked.

Your mouth pressed into a thin line, you felt something like a storm swirling inside of you, winds thick and unyielding and relentless, and you were almost positive that you’d tear him apart once the feeling aligned with the rest of your body.

It was then that the song blaring through the speakers switched to something inappropriately upbeat, each thump of the dance-friendly bass feeling like punches to the gut.

The storm inside you hadn’t been giving way to anger at all; it was sadness you were feeling in your belly, hopeless and humiliated sadness, though you couldn’t quite understand why: he’d made some stupid, generic joke to try and get a rise out of you- what else was new these days? Maybe it was the fact that your best friend was, by her passiveness and obvious amusement at your expense, encouraging his taunts when she was supposed to be there for you. Or maybe the reality had finally, finally sunken in, that this kind of interaction with Michael would now consume your life for the next year.

Either way, it didn’t make a difference, and as if on cue, the familiar sting of unshed tears arrived patiently at the back of your eyes.

All at once you were were dizzy; Michael’s perfect face was doubling and distorting before your eyes, and your friend’s pitched laughter rang like incessant, robotic television static in your ears.

With very last straw of self preservation you could grasp, you said nothing at all, walking away with the dazed sluggishness of a zombie on autopilot.

You considered yourself lucky; soon enough, you wouldn’t have the luxury of walking away at all.

“She’s too sensitive,” you heard your friend say, faintly, in the background of your thoughts.

You didn’t have the energy to wonder why she wasn’t coming with you, much less the energy to chastise her for being a bad friend, which was what you knew she deserved. If she cared more about getting Michael’s attention than preserving her friendship with you, you supposed there was no use in trying to stop her anymore.

He’s like a disease, you thought as you ambled your way towards the bathroom, surrounded by people but yet still so alone. He’s like a disease, infecting everyone he touches.

It was only a matter of time, you supposed, before he got to you, too.

Who knew? Maybe he already had.

tagging some people from my old iiw tag list!: (i’m sorry if i tagged anyone twice, i’m literally half asleep right now cuz i got like 2 hours of sleep in the past 24 hrs lol) @wroteclassicaly @ritualmichael @sloppy-little-witch-bitch26 @trelaney @kissydevil @sloppy-wrist @michael-langdon-appreciation @ccodyfern @sojournmichael @starwlkers @maso-xchrist @space-princesssss @ahslangdon101 @isabellaserpentiawesson @stupidocupido @bademliimagnum @nana15774 @urlocalgothb @hexqueensupreme @gold-dragon-slayer @langdonsboots @langdonstrash @fckinsupreme @hisgirlwonder @venusxxlangdon @obsessivenostalgicbaby @kleinegamerin @lambofcairo @kiiteiru @littledemondani @beriveri @grossgayartist @featherpool-852 @discocalico @cryptid-coalition @nu-tt @diamcndscarred @chocolateandhorror @michaelsfrenchtoast @sarcasticbxtch20 @ringpop-poppy @imjustasadhoe @melodylangdon @codycrazy @perfect-ginger-maniac @baphomet-wears-gucci @bigstudentpatrolbonk @jazzcowgirl @a-n-t-s @langdonsblood @ritualmichael @myluciferiscody @fentycoven @gracebtw @bongwaternation @king-of-mischief-and-bitchez @hoseokchild @witchywcmans @satanicbimbo @lvngdvns @langdonskillerqueen @aradevil @anemia-doll @muralskins @funtomimagines @mrssgtjamesbuckybarnes @our-mrlangdon @lotsofhunny @sevenwonderwitch @horrorstreet @kpopmademedo-it @naughtygranger @codyshands @krazycags01 @skullag

#michael langdon #is it wrong #michael langdon x reader #mine #michael langdon fic #ahs #american horror story #apocalypse #ahs apocalypse #cody fern #x reader #ahs x reader

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the-river-person · 3 years

Text

Monster History in the Librarby

Niven was getting ready to close the Library for the night. All the usual patrons had gone home already. Both of the editors for the Snowdin Newspaper, as well as the Loox that often hung around by the tables and played word games like crosswords, junior jumble, or soduku. Speaking of which, Lady Garf, one of the editors of the newspaper who specialized in making games for it, had left a few of the ones she’d been working on. With a sigh he collected the pages and stored them behind the main desk, he’d have to remember to give it to her tomorrow. The bell on the door tinkled and Niven looked up to say that they were actually just about to close. But the words died on his lips and he stared at the person who had come in. Face hidden by a dark cloak, they were somewhat tall, nearly reaching the height of Sir Papyrus, captain of the Royal Guard. Though he couldn’t see their face, he caught a glimpse of white fur. Was it Ice Wolf? Just a little over a year ago he’d started coming in every few months to check out books to read during his work breaks. No, Ice Wolf was much bigger. “Is this the Librarby?” Asked the figure, a male voice, deep yet not unpleasant, almost musical really. Niven grimaced at the question. He’d once harbored hopes of getting the sign repainted. But there really wasn’t any point now, was there? Not only had everybody just gotten used to it, but even if he did repaint it, the sign would just reset along with everything else in a few short weeks. It wasn’t worth the effort, but it still irritated him. Forcing himself to smile he quickly decided just to see what this Monster wanted before closing up. “Yes, it is. We don’t usually see too many non-locals in here. Most just pass by on their way to the ruins or the Greater Snowdin Caverns. Are you from the Capital?” “You could say that,” said the figure, sounding mildly amused. They offered no further explanation, and Niven decided not to push his luck further that way. “What can I do for you?” For a moment the Monster was silent, looking round the small library as if gauging its potential somehow. Not for the first time, Niven wished for the resources to make a much grander library, something akin to the great libraries he’d read of in human books: Ashurbanipal, Alexandria, Pergamum, Villa of the Papyri, Trajan’s Dual Library, Celsus, the Imperial Library of Constantinople, House of Wisdom in Baghdad, "Dharmaganja" ("Treasury of Truth") and Dharma Ghunj ("Mountain of Truth") in India’s Nalanda University. There were so many, and all he had was a few shelves. A couple histories, fiction, somone’s book report left here years ago and never retrieved (it was gleefully shelved as something new and at least 3 people had checked it out since for the sheer novelty), poetry, only a single science book about astronomy, and an entire shelf devoted to joke books and word games. But if someone was really coming out here, far from the Capital, to look for something specific. Well... They had to be desperate. New Home’s public library was much bigger, and if you couldn’t find something, you might humbly petition the King and Queen for access to the castle archives in the chance it might be there. Nobody came to a tiny town at the edge of civilization. Well... they did come. Sometimes they even bought things at the general store or stayed a the inn. But that was really just people on their way to the Ruins after Reset Day, the crowds and the general traffic as Monsters carried out their plans for the next three weeks. Getting puzzles ready for the famous DT and Royal Guardsman Monster Kid, who lived right here in said small town. So some people came through, a lot of people. But not for books. Never for the librarby that hadn’t even spell its name right when the sign was painted. “I’m hoping,” said the Monster. “That you might have texts on Monster History from before the war. History, perhaps theology? Mythology and folklore? I’ll take anything you’ve got.” Oh, so that’s what he wanted. Niven gulped. Okay so maybe it wasn’t accurate that nobody had been coming to their tiny library from out of town. There was that person from the capital he’d only seen once, a shifty fellow who was supposed to be a castle servant. White hair, pale purplish skin, and a terrifying grin with sharp yellow teeth. Niven had been freaked out by the Monster’s weird face markings and the J like tail that had lashed back and forth in agitation. Jevil, or so he had said his name was, had been after books on Monster Religion. It was a surprising subject, one few cared about. But Niven had a couple of rare tomes on it, possibly texts even the Royal Archives didn’t have. And that, it turned out, was the entire point. Jevil was a scribe in the Royal Archives and kept the smaller of the castle’s two libraries in good order for the King and Queen’s more general use. Thankfully he hadn’t come again after the first time, having taken a stack of books with him. He sent them back a month later, along with a few coins for the late fees, and asked for more books, naming each specifically. So Niven had shipped them off to the Capital, and sure enough they returned the next month with a request for more books. Sans the skeleton had become a familiar face as he came by so often to pick up or deliver boxes of books headed for the weird little Monster. And Jevil wasn’t the only one. Ice Wolf had been checking out the weirdest things. Niven would have expected a joke book, or even an interesting novel, but no. Ice Wolf wanted to read about physics and geology and historical documents and traditions. Niven hadn’t had much cause to write to the Capital Public Library in... well ever really. But to get some of the texts Ice Wolf wanted he pulled up his sleeves and penned message after message requesting various books until someone came down about nine weeks in to ask why on earth there was suddenly more book traffic going to Snowdin. “Oh, heh heh.” He laughed nervously. “I believe we do have some things. If you’ll come this way please.” The Monster followed him into the lower levels of the library, a section which held most of the least circulated books and materials available only by request. He really needed to dust down here, now where was the light? Ah yes. A dim bulb flickered to life, bathing the shelves in a warming and distinctly yellow light. From the shelves he pulled book after book, most dusty, a few with a little water damage, and many quite old. These he stacked before the Monster, who shifted in surprise as he looked over the growing pile. As Niven set another book on the pile he caught a better glimpse of the face beneath the hood. A white furred goat-like face with black markings on his lower cheeks and eyes of a dark muted red. Niven almost dropped the books in surprise but hid his reaction by faking a sneeze, though maybe with all the dust in here it really wasn’t that fake. This was a Boss Monster! But not Asgore, not nearly tall enough and certainly much thinner. But not the motherly Toriel either. It didn’t make sense, all the other Boss Monsters had been killed in the war, only the King and Queen had made it Underground with the others. And the only other Boss Monster living since then had been... Hadn’t Asriel Dreemurr become a flower? How had he regained his body? Or... something similar. It wasn’t quite a child anymore, though not yet an adult. Somewhere in between if appearance was anything to go by. A teenager maybe. That didn’t make sense either as his age should have been tied to Asgore and Toriel’s, and none of them could age anyway with the Resets, but maybe being a flower did odd things to you. Niven watched out of the corner of his eye as the prince began flipping through some of the books. “Monsters and Humans have always dwelt together in the world, though the nature of this coexistence had been woven together with myth, legend, and superstition for thousands of years.” Asriel read the passage from a “Brief History of Monsters and Humans”, it was volume nine of the collection, which was anything but brief. The author had been criticized for his long winded and needlessly flowery language. Still it made for good reading, if you had the time for it. “Owing to the nature of Monster’s Souls and the intrinsic connection their magical bodies have to the state of their soul, Humans were often under the mistaken impression that the Monster Clans were more numerous than they really were. As new generations of Monsters were born, they sometimes took on new and often unique forms different from their elders, forms that matched the state of their very soul.” The Prince broke off reading and looked up at Niven, who suddenly realized he’d stopped taking books off the shelves and had been staring as he listened. Flushing, the Lizard started to turn back to the shelf. “Is that why some of the Monsters around are things like Aeroplanes or shaped like bathtubs and obsessed with washing? Because they were born with new forms?” Niven turned back around. It was a good question, and not really covered that well in schools. Sure they touched on the subject, but no one really focused on the implications of how Monster Souls behaved. “Well, more or less. You have to understand that Monsters such as the Tsundereplane couldn’t have been born until Monsters learned of the existence of human airplanes. And anime of course. Then when this new Monster was born, their soul manifested a body that fit who they were at their foundations, the most basic structure of all the things they could become. We Monsters don’t have much control over this, we can’t shift our own forms at will, but our appearance is far more closely tied to who we are than you would think. Creatures like Woshua were born of groups of water dwelling Monsters. Humans often characterized us with names like Fay or Fairy, Spirits, Daemons, and lots of other things. And human folklore has a lot of tales about faeries who insist upon cleanliness and washing, often enacting terrible punishment if specified arrangements weren’t kept, like leaving washing water out at night for them to bathe in, or having a strict routine of personal hygiene while living in an area where said fairy has to deal with you often. Sound familiar? At some point the bathtub must have been an image they focused on, and at some point a Monster child was born with that form as part of who they were.” Asriel nodded, forgetting that he was trying to hide his face and letting the hood slip down a bit as he listened with wide eyes. Just barely visible in the upper shadows of the hood were his horns, not terribly big, just poking up from the white tufts of fur. “Alright,” he said. “I’ll take this one. And these.” He plucked another four books from the pile. “Can you hold the rest for me?” Niven found himself agreeing to do just that as he followed Asriel back up the stairs and let him out. As he locked up and turned out the lights, he wondered why nobody had heard anything about the prince yet if he was back to his true self?

#jevil #snowdin town #librarby #undertale #undertale au #aeontale #asriel dreemurr #tsundererplane #woshua #toriel dreemurr #asgore dreemurr #monster souls #library #snowdin librarby #flowey the flower #ice wolf undertale

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wonderland-in-bloom · 4 years

Text

kingyo-chan...literally

[second year boys]

HEEEEEEY GUYS!!!! (i promise requests will be opened soon) so this is going to be something a little bit different! as many of you know, i usually write reader inserts but today i decided to be writing something with just the boys for the sake of fueling my satisfaction of interactions with the boys, and idk i felt like writing something for myself today~ and i have a smol question....are y’all okay w/ chara x chara? like yaoi/bl/shounen ai bla bla (although a is still kinda confused who she ships who with lol) i’ll also happily take requests of a canon chara x canon chara (if y’all are comfortable w/ it of course) :))

this oneshot will consist of the second years: riddle, ruggie, the octavinelle trio, the scarabia duo, and silver! and i’ll be labeling this oneshot in my masterlist as twst boys!

anyways hope you guys enjoy this -3-

♡

“LISTEN up you dogs!” a very familiar scream pierced the air and made its way into all of the student’s ears. divus crewel officially started class. today was quite a special occasion as the whole second years had a conjoined alchemy class. azul was thrilled, after all it was his best and most liked subject, thus he was just beyond excited. he wondered what kind of task professor crewel would give them that day. “today we’ll be focusing on a potion which can transform those who drink it into mermen.”

some of the octavinelle students cheered, including the octavinelle trio. “yay!!! maybe we can use this to bring some of the students down back to our home hmm?” floyd cheered. “indeed, floyd. it will certainly be interesting.” jade added. “however!” professor crewel’s voice boomed again. “i will be picking your partners.” groans could be heard around the room. “damn it! i can’t be with you then jamil.” kalim whined. jamil awkwardly chuckled but thought to himself, thank god. riddle was panicking to himself and fidgeting immensely. please don’t let me be stuck with floyd. please don’t let me be stuck with floyd. please don’t let me be stuck with floyd. PLEASE ANYTHING BUT THAT! professor crewel took out the list of names written on parchment paper. he cleared his throat and this was when riddle started to feel even more anxious. “jamil viper and azul ashengrotto.” jamil sighed in relief. he didn’t have to be in such a hassle. azul just smirked. jamil was a clever person, and they wouldn’t have any problems working together.

“jade leech and kalim al-asim.” kalim cheered. “pleasure working with ya, jade!” jade just smiled. “of course. the pleasure is mine.” yes it was rather a chaotic pair...but at least it wasn’t going to be that disastrous. “ruggie bucchi and silver.” ruggie sighed. he didn’t exactly have a problem with silver but they weren’t that well acquainted either. he was just thankful he didn’t get someone problematic or chaotic. riddle sunk in his chair. he knew exactly what this meant. professor crewel went through all the names of the students, and riddle knew that everyone had a pair. and all that was left....was floyd. “floyd leech and riddle rosehearts.” riddle slammed his head on the table, causing a student beside him to jump in shock. “why out of all people...why?!” he muttered to himself. he soon felt an arm slung around his shoulders. “yaaaaay! it looks like we’re a pair kingyo-chan!” please kill me now.

“fufufu, it seems as if riddle-kun and floyd are a pair.” azul chuckled as he stared at the two. jamil was already up and ready and lit the flame to the cauldron. the two of them knew it was going to be easy peasy. “i hope nothing bad goes wrong.” jamil just sighed as azul started to read out the instructions for the potion. “ah kalim-san, please be careful.” kalim jumped back from the lit up flame below the cauldron. “phew! almost got burnt there.” jamil’s ears twitched and furrowed his eyebrows as his furiously threw the ingredients into the cauldron. “it’ll be alright, jamil-kun.” azul assured him. “hopefully.” he mumbled to himself as he started to stir the concoction.

“ah, one fish tail please silver-san.” ruggie and silver did surprisingly well. ruggie just read the instructions out loud while silver just followed in pursuit and did everything ruggie said. surprisingly, they worked well together compared to the other pairs. “do i stir now?” ruggie shook his head. “it says here to wait for thirty seconds.” they were actually functioning properly. who would guess? as ruggie was about to stop the stopwatch, his ears perked up as he heard a shriek from beside him. “WAAAA~I THOUGHT YOU SAID LIZARD’S TAIL?!” kalim was panicking as he put in the wrong ingredient into the cauldron. jade was trying his best to calm him down but also not lose his shit. “kalim-san, it’ll be alright. we’ll just conjure another batch after this.” jamil heard all of this from where he stood and gripped the wooden stirrer so tight it was almost crushed under his grip. “i do not trust anyone else to be his partner. not even myself at times.” he was basically just a tired mom at this point. poor jamil.

meanwhile over at floyd and riddle’s cauldron, it was quiet. awkwardly quiet. by the power of the queen of hearts, please don’t let anything bad happen. riddle kept to himself and stirred the potion. “ne, ne, kingyo-chan~ aren’t you excited to try this potion out?” riddle gulped. “it’s against the protocols for students to be trying out the potions without official permission from the professor. besides, we better be careful to not get in contact with the potion, or else...” floyd pouted as he started to pour the concoction into a vial. at first he carefully eyed which one but eventually got bored and distracted from his task. he didn’t even look at where he was pouring the potion until he heard a gasp from beside him. riddle was covered in their potion. “uh oh...” there was a poof of red colored smoke. when the smoke cleared, floyd looked down to see...a small red goldfish flopping on the floor. “k...kingyo...chan?” he scooped up the little goldfish in his arms. it continued to flop around.

“but the potion was supposed to make you into a merman...not an actual goldfish...” floyd wondered to himself as he stared at the small fish in his hands. riddle wasn’t able to speak but he was thinking to himself how much he needed water. if he could speak, he would scream at floyd and demand to put him in water. he was a fish after all. but alas he wasn’t able to and just continued flopping around. “what happened here...OH MY GOD WHAT IS THAT?!” azul came over to see what happened and his jaw dropped when he saw the goldfish in floyd’s hands. “riddle-kun....is now a kingyo.” azul panicked. “JAMIL-KUN GET SOME WATER IN A LARGE BEAKER. NOW.” jamil heard the panic and worry in azul’s voice and rushed.

he ran, water occasionally spilling out of the beaker but he managed to make it in time for azul to scoop up ‘riddle’ from floyd’s arms and into the beaker. he was able to swim around now and breathe. phew. he was safe. “HOW ON EARTH DID THIS HAPPEN?!” azul screamed slightly, getting attention from the other students. “oya oya, floyd what did you do?” jade sighed as he saw the commotion. “WAAAAAH! IS THAT RIDDLE-KUN?!” kalim gasped as he tried to get a better look at the goldfish in the beaker held by jamil. “KALIM! OI! CAREFUL!” jamil scolded him as he tried to steadily hold the beaker. professor crewel stepped closer to the incident. he scolded floyd for being so irresponsible and not careful, but also riddle for not watching what floyd was doing. in the end, he just told azul and jamil to quickly come up with an antidote to reverse the mess. meanwhile ruggie and silver were watching from afar.

“shishishishi, i wonder what they got wrong.” silver took a closer look from where the two of them were standing. he glanced at their cauldron. floyd and riddle’s potion was raspberry in color, while silver and ruggie’s were a mauve color. the instructions stated that the mauve color was how the final potion should be. he then remembered how the color was a raspberry-like color before they added the fish tail. “ah. they forgot the fish tail.” ruggie thought about it for a while before he snapped his fingers. “of course! good analysis silver-san!”

“sheesh, what is with everyone else and the fish tail. such an easy task to do but everyone apparently messes it up. shishishsi what an interesting day today is.”

♡

yours truly wants to make a comic w/ astra and le boys but haduh the dedication isn’t there ;-;

love, a♕

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brideofcthulhu10 · 4 years

Text

More headcanons to help me work through the dreaded writer's block! Hope you guys don't mind it's a bit slow right now, I plan on posting another tonight and hopefully I'll be able to get to some asks once my brain is no longer fried

Dwayne Headcanons

When he was responsible for Laddie, Dwayne would often take him out to the boardwalk whenever Star was busy. Sometimes he’d even choose to take him along even if they were with Star just to hang with the munchkin

If anyone told him he was too short Dwayne would hypnotize them into letting him one. He wasn't exactly worried about the kid being flung from the roller coaster, he could easily catch him if it happened. It felt awesome impressing him at the strength test, just watching him jump up and down as the attendant handed him a giant blue monkey which of course he'd give to Laddie. The boy was such a hyper, sunny child it was hard not to laugh when this spritely eight year old would play a water gun game and yell “this is a load of bullshit” when he lost. Well, he did grow up around four teenage guys, two having the worst language you could imagine. David used the word "fuck" like it was going out of style. At one point some lady in her thirties tried to lecture Laddie about watching his language, to which Dwayne had immediately stepped in after he said “piss off lady”. Again he had to choke back a laugh, pushing the kid behind him before this lady throttled him. To save face Dwayne feigned some half assed “shame on you” to Laddie just so she would piss off, and then ushered him away- for an ice cream sundae. Granted while he couldn’t condone a kid cussing up a storm, he did find it utterly hilarious watching this uppity chick squawk like a hen in outrage.

“Seriously though I don’t know where the hell you learned all that from-”

“Paul taught me.”

“Yeah, well, Paul probably isn’t the best guy to copy, kiddo. "

Chinese food isn’t his favorite, but he knows it’s Markos so he doesn’t complain when they have it at least once a week. Actually, his favorite is probably Hispanic. Many forget much of California was once Mexico, and as such the culture still thrived even into the early 1900s. Santa Carla flourished, and between pick pocketing gigs and heavy labor on the docks, Dwayne could always count on there being fresh tortillas for a few dollars after a long day. Elotes with extra chili powder, huarache, freshly brewed horchata on ice? Utterly delicious! Nothing can compare to freshly made tamales by a sweet abuela in a tiny food truck cooing to you in Spanish. Even he can blush when they pinch his cheeks gushing about what a skinny man he is. Paul and Marko love it as well and will often tag along when Dwayne goes to Mama Rosa’s, although he often has to elbow Paul in the gut because he’ll flirt with the cooks in the back into getting a free taco.

“Ay, Paul, mi angelito querido cielito, you’re skin and bones!”

“Well, I always skip a meal before coming here, abuela. Your cooking is too epic to have anything else in my stomach!”

“Dude, will you stop flirting with that poor woman before you give her a heart attack, you ass?”

Dwayne had a brother many years ago who was lost after being caught in direct sunlight during the great San Francisco earthquake of 1906. Since then on April 18th he holds a small memorial for his brother Jasper, who died pulling the curtains shut to shield them from the sun. Some years David, Paul and Marko will join him, silently drinking to their fallen friend. It's a rare moment of seriousness for these wild boys, sitting beside an altar crudely constructed atop a wooden crate, draped over with the jacket once worn by Jasper that survived the flames. Decorated in worn candles melted by decades of use, a bottle of rum from over eighty years ago still untouched with an empty shot glass beside it caked in dust and cobwebs, worn flowers shriveled into darkened husks, a glass of blood they keep freshly filled with each visit, feathers of birds to help carry him to the sky. Every time he adds something new, a gift from every era. Recently he brought Jasper a Def Leppard vinyl record, propped against a sketch of his brother drawn before his passing by an admirer who had died long ago. Paul left a little toy motorcycle for him, Marko brought an old pocket watch he found at an antique store that bore a striking resemblance to one he had admired long ago, and David brought him a hunting knife

“You would’ve loved hair bands, Jas. Everything’s changed now, its crazy. It sucks you never got a bike of your own,” Dwayne would say, sitting in the dark with only the tender flicker of candles brushing away the dark. Never again would he let the sun take him. It was the darkest, deepest cave in the hotel. And there, Dwayne spoke more than he ever does outside “Horses were cool, but it’s better to have something that doesn’t stop every time it takes a shit, you know?”

Unfortunately Dwayne sucks at video games. It’s not that he doesn’t get it, but he has the worst gamer rage. Now, Dwayne doesn’t often get legitimately mad, but when he’s been playing the same god damn stupid water level for the past hour and a half just to be killed by a squid-! Well, lets just say Paul practically dove to catch the controller before it was chucked at the tv, and cue a dirty look towards Dwayne for nearly smashing his “baby”. He wasn’t about to have him break ANOTHER controller. Yeah that wasn’t the first. At this point he’s content just watching from afar and sometimes back seat gaming when Marko is going the wrong way. He’s not nearly as bad as David who will openly call someone stupid after dying.

Dwayne is definitely the type to nap after a long night. Truthfully he misses when he could just lay out in the sun like a lizard on a hot rock after a long day, it’d feel incredible. Instead he’s resorted to a hot water bottle or a heating pad. Yeah, he loves hot weather. Summertime is his favorite time, just savoring the toasted air blowing in his face on rides over the beaches. Sometimes he’ll try to wake up early to watch the sunset from within the cave, although it’s burnt him on more than one occasion he will still try to get a glimpse. Winter is the worst for him, he hates, absolutely despises the cold. Even though he doesn't technically get cold anymore, everything seems to die away in the winter leaving only twisted branches and grey skies. David may enjoy all that gloomy melancholy but not him.

One wouldn’t assume Dwayne to have much of a sweet tooth. That’s because they’re wrong. While he isn’t into the marshmallow caramel double candy bars deep fried and dipped in chocolate like Marko or Laddie, he has a serious weakness for chocolate. Like, a major weakness. Paul is still searching for his stash, tucked away somewhere secret in the hotel. Any time he thinks he’s close to finding it, Dwayne moves it again.

“Dude, sharing is fucking caring you greedy bastard”

“Get your own candy asshole, why do you think I keep my stash hidden from you guys?”

Now the whole hoity toity fancy chocolate isn’t what appeals to him. He can certainly appreciate a well made chunk of dark chocolate sprinkled with chili powder, but he’ll settle for a cheap bar snatched from a gas station. Most sweets weigh heavy on him, but chocolate is such a unique medium that can be changed into almost anything, appealing to every taste imaginable. Sweet, savory, spicy, bitter, semi-sweet, rich, dense, light. Chocolate cake, chocolate doughnut, hot chocolate, fudge, and of course the traditional candy bar. You make him a mug of Mexican hot chocolate and he is putty in your hands. You couldn’t necessarily bribe him with food. But you could certainly butter him up to suggestions when he’s crunching down on a candy bar. Paul knows this, and at this point Dwayne knows this guy has royally fucked up if he comes up to him with a stack of chocolate bars.

“Heeeeey, Dwayne, buddy, old pal, chum, lookie what I found, all for you man how cool is that?”

“....,” Dwayne glances up from his book at the handful of chocolate and slowly lowers it with a firm sigh. “What the hell did you do now?”

“Wha-Whaaa-? Oh! Okay, wow. Woooow. Offend much? I go out of my way- I mean, can’t a guy just, you know, do something nice for his best friend-?”

“Paul. What. did. you. do?”

“Okay okay, well you see David made me go fill up his stupid bike, and there was this hot chick at the gas station, I mean perfect fuckin ten man, she had the biggest frickin tits- okay anyway! Well, next thing I know the keys are gone, the chick's gone, the fuckin bike- You gotta help me man he’s gonna fucking kill me and dance on my grave!”

Of course Dwayne will help… in exchange for twice the chocolate. Like I said, it won’t always work as a bribe, but it’ll certainly help your cause if you go in with some incentive.

#lost boys 1987 #lost boys imagine #the lost boys #lost boys fanfiction #fanfiction #fanfiction writing #lost boys #fanfic #80s movies #lost boys dwayne #billy wirth #lost boys vampires #lost boys laddie #vampire fluff #fluff imagine #fluff #lost boys head canon #headcanon

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fantasticstoryteller · 3 years

Text

New Dynasty Chapter 55

Peter watched as Wade paced the room. The older man was nervous and slightly twitchy as he moved. Slowly, Peter was coming to realize that the twitches were the man reacting to the voices in his head, the “boxes” as he called them.

“Please calm down,” Peter urged as Wade paced.

“I can’t—I mean, I shouldn't—shut up! I’m getting there!”

Peter felt a little hurt that the boxes got a full, complete sentence to themselves while all he got was broken grammar. He strode over and quickly grabbed Wade’s shoulders. “It’s okay!” he assured the man—still clearly not all there.

Wade gasped for a moment and then pressed his hands to his face. “I got a job.”

Peter waited. Clearly there was more coming.

Wade began to shift, like he wanted to pace—but he didn’t break away from Peter, who kept his grip light enough that Wade could break away. “It’s in New York.” He rushed on, quickly. “But it’s not a killing job and I know I said I wouldn’t kill in the city but it’s a good job for a friend and there’s no killing involved.” He paused. “I asked.”

Peter nodded. Sure, he knew Wade said he wouldn't kill in the city—and that was good. He also knew that Wade was a mercenary which meant he had to take jobs. He felt certain Deadpool was trying to funnel that money into Peter’s house without the boy knowing. He didn’t see why Wade was so worried about it.

“Do you need help?” he asked as he released Wade’s shoulders.

Wade stared at him for a full minute before suddenly dropping into a crouch with both hands on the back of his head. “Fuuuck,” he breathed. “You don’t—you just don’t know, Baby Boy.” Suddenly, in a lightning change of mood, he jumped back up and grinned. “It’ll be fun!”

Peter grinned back. “Of course,” he said. “You’re always coming along with me, so I’ll come along with you.”

“Woohoo!” Wade danced around Peter towards the door, and then shuffled back to avoid hitting Aunt May as she came in with groceries. “Oh, let me help you with that!” he said.

“You are a dear,” the old woman replied as she handed the bags she was carrying to him. “I have more in the car.”

Peter grinned. “Let me help too,” he said as he went out to the car.

After all the groceries were in and put up Aunt May invited Wade for dinner, and—for the first time since he’d woken up recovering in the house—he declined. “Sorry Aunt May,” he said cheerfully. “Spidey’s going on a job with me and I have to make sure it’s safe.” He twitched slightly. “Of course I know what recon is!” he said suddenly. “I just don’t normally bother!” He bowed, saluted, and then pulled his hood up before dancing out the door.

“Well, you certainly made him happy,” Aunt May commented. She looked at Peter and raised an eyebrow. “A job?” she asked.

He shrugged. “Wade said there’s no killing,” he said, “and I believe him.”

“Hmm.”

^^^

{Smooth, idiot. That was real smooth.}

[‘Make it safe?’ Just how are we supposed to do that? Just last week the Lizard knocked him off a building!]

“We do the best we can,” Wade said soothingly. It was something Peter had told him on one of their lunch dates.

{Date!}

[Dude, he’s way, way too young.]

“Not like that,” muttered Wade as he walked down the street.

[And why are we working for that bitch, anyway? She tried to kill us!]

“Everyone tries to kill us,” Wade argued.

[She THREW us into a VOLCANO!]

Wade winced as the words echoed against the inside of his skull. “But it wasn’t personal,” he protested.

[The hell it wasn’t!]

{Anyone else curious as to why she came to us? Considering she told us to go to Hell last time we met?}

“We have more skills than she does!”

[The only skill we have that she doesn’t is the skill not to die. Are you sure this is going to be safe for Peter?]

{Aw, relax. She’s also lazy.}

Wade reached his apartment and hauled out his maps of the city. Now, from what she’d said the object he was supposed to be collecting was in this high-security facility. All he had to do was—

There was a rap on the door. Then it turned into a vicious pounding. “Dammit Deadpool!” snarled his roommate. “Open the damn door!”

Curious as to why she needed him to open the door, he did so. His roommate, a pale young woman with hair in multiple colors, was holding one of her shoulders as blood seeped between her fingers. “You look bad,” he commented as she limped into the apartment.

“Don’t start,” she growled as she limped towards the medicine cabinet in the kitchen.

Wade saw odd purple and blue lights dancing in the spilled blood.

[That’s new.]

{Never seen that before. We sure she’s human?}

“Pretty sure she’s not,” murmured Wade as he closed the door.

“What was that?” demanded the angry voice.

“Your blood’s all sparkly!” Wade said cheerfully.

“Yeah? It’ll wear off.” Her voice lowered and she muttered to herself. “Fucking unicorns.”

{Hey look! The room’s brighter!}

Wade nodded as he looked at the literally glowing golden strands of hair next to the young woman’s head. They were the only parts not dyed. “Your hair’s glowing again,” he pointed.

“Fan-fucking-tastic,” muttered the woman as she grabbed a beer with one hand, smashed the neck of the bottle against the counter, and chugged it. She pressed the cool glass to her head. “I miss home.”

“Because of your hair?”

“That too.”

Standing there it occurred to Wade that his roommate was almost as indestructible as he was. “So Carol,” he said.

“Cora,” she corrected firmly. “As in, ‘Coraline.’ As in the other person on this god-forsaken lease.” She angrily tossed her beer bottle towards the trashcan and it hit the wall where it shattered. Most of the glass went into the garbage can. Neither of them really cared to clean up the mess.

[We ever ask where she came from? Because, I think it might be important later.]

{We said we wouldn't ask if she didn’t, so we didn’t.}

“Coraline,” Wade agreed. “I’m going on a job soon.”

“Good for you.” The phone in her pocket rang, she dug it out, and answered with a single word. “No.” She put the phone on the counter. “And?” she asked.

“And Spiderman wants to tag along. There’s no killing involved,” he added.

Coraline sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose. “Deadpool,” she said wearily, “you accepted a job.”

“Yes.”

“In New York City.”

“Yes…”

“What’s the job?”

Wade beamed behind his mask. “Object retrieval!”

Coraline closed her eyes. “Object retrieval,” she repeated.

“Yup!”

“Deadpool, did you seriously ask the spider if he could tag along on one of your jobs—the mostly law-abiding do-anything-to-help-along-the-boys-in-blue spider, I’d like to add—when it involves stealing?” She looked at him. “I’m not an expert, but that sounds like a good way to alienate him.”

[She’s right.]

{Oh, my God! What were we thinking!}

“Gotta go!” Wade said realizing there was a crap ton of research he had to do.

“Yeah yeah, good luck,” muttered Coraline as she head towards the bathroom, limps already fading.

^^^

Peter crouched in the corner overlooking the building in front of them as Wade, in full Deadpool regalia, checked an odd little compass on his wrist. “What’s that?” he asked.

“My moral compass. Just making sure I don’t lead you down the wrong path, buddy,” said the mercenary as he put the thing away.

Some of the things the man said made absolutely no sense. “All right,” he said. “So, now that your moral compass is straightened out, what’s the mission.”

“Right. So, my client, my friend, works for these people who had this—thing stolen from them by these people. Now, they called me, instead of the police, because none of them are supposed to have it.”

Peter felt his lips twitch behind his mask. He wasn’t sure if they were twitching in distaste at stealing or amusement at the way Wade was putting the situation. “Let me see if I’ve got this right. A group of people, who were not supposed to have this object—whatever it is—had it stolen by this other group of people, and the first group has hired you to steal it back for them.”

Wade nodded. “That’s it. Contract complete when said object is in her, the contract holder’s hands.”

Peter nodded. He was slightly surprised at the formal phrasing, but Wade was a mercenary. Presumably that meant he had a lot of experience with contracts. “What’s the object?” he asked.

“Some kind of book. She said I can’t miss it.”

“All right.” Peter waited. “How are we getting in?” he asked.

Wade’s head whipped towards him. “What?”

Peter held back a sigh. “Your mission,” he reminded the other man. “Your plans.”

“That is both the single best and most terrifying thing I have ever heard from you,” Wade said softly.

“So, what’s the plan?” asked Peter, both anxious to get started and to keep Wade from thinking too much.

“Plan? Right, plan. Spidey, you’re backup. I want you to stay out of sight as much as possible. These people are sneaky, and I may need super-secret backup to get back out of there.”

Peter nodded. “All right,” he agreed. The two of them went into the building.

Everything seemed normal enough at first. There seemed to be an appropriate number of guards for what was a secret priceless artifact. The security was not quite the best, but appropriate. Pretty much all Peter had to do, as Spiderman, was follow along the ceiling keeping an eye out for surprise attacks. There were a few, and he webbed those would-be attackers to the walls and floors before Deadpool even registered that there was a threat, but nothing major. And Deadpool was very careful not to actually kill any of his attackers, a fact that Peter appreciated.

Before the mission Peter and Aunt May had sat down to have a talk and Peter understood that Deadpool was a mercenary known for killing. Knew it very well, in fact. He had accepted that there might be reasons fro Deadpool would kill on this job—because he was working and it simply might not occur to him to use non-lethal force. He was prepared for that.

When they made it to an inner room, Spiderman still hanging back in the shadows providing silent support, the game changed. On a wooden table was a single, huge book. It was blue. It looked like it was glowing.

Leaning against the table was a woman. She was tall, for a woman (slightly shorter than Wade), was wearing a white dress that looked like a bunch of feathers had been sewed together, and had long, cascading blond hair. “Hello Deadpool,” the woman said in a calm voice. She was holding what looked like a bunch of Popsicle sticks tied into the vague form of a human in one hand. In the other she held what looked like a bloodstained piece of cloth. Just behind her, on the table, was a tall, wide glass of water and a second doll.

Peter’s senses went haywire. This woman, whoever she was, was bad news. Deadpool merely waved cheerfully. “Hi,” he said. “I’ve come to get that book on the table behind you, and once I get it I’ll be on my way since I don’t want to kill anyone in Spiderman’s city.”

The woman chuckled softly and Peter felt the little hairs on the back of his neck raise at the sound. “Oh, yes,” she said as she wrapped the bloodstained piece of cloth around the doll she was holding. “I’ve heard about your little—team up with the human spider.” She moved to where the doll was being dangled over the water. “I’m surprised he isn’t here now.”

Another chill ran over Peter, warning him that something was about to happen. He tensed, not knowing what to expect as he looked around the room desperately for any sign of the danger his senses said was coming. He trusted his senses explicitly.

The woman simply released the doll to where it fell in the water. Wade gasped and choked as Peter stared, not certain what was going on until water began pouring from Wade’s mouth. The man was drowning. The woman dropped the doll into the water and now Wade was drowning.

Peter dropped to grab the doll, to haul it out of the water only to be easily backhanded out of the way by the woman, her nails ripping bits of his suit. “There you are,” the woman said in satisfaction. She smiled at Peter as she pulled a thread from his suit and tied it around the other doll. The merc choked one water as the woman snapped the leg on the doll.

And Peter felt his own leg snap in response before he collapsed to the floor. He gasped as waves of pain rolled over him—but he had fought his way through worse. He’d once swung through the city to catch Norman as Green Goblin with two cracked ribs. That had been bad. This was—still bad, but not quite at those levels yet. He swallowed hard as the woman walked towards him.

“Do you give up, little spider?” asked the woman in a voice that sounded kind, but his senses warned him were anything but.

“Never.” Peter shot webbing at her, and she easily dodged with a laugh.

“You are losing your touch, little spider,” the woman said.

Peter felt his lips widen in a grin. “Am I?” he asked as he yanked on the webbing. The glass fell to the floor. It didn’t break, but the water spilled out.

“Poor little spider,” said the woman sadly as she snapped the other leg. “Just doesn’t know when to quit.” She gasped as suddenly a sword protruded through her stomach.

“Want to bet?” snarled Wade as she fell off the sword, clutching the wound in her abdomen.

A dim part of Peter’s brain that was still functioning noted that it wasn’t a kill move. Even drowning, Wade had held back. As Wade picked him up, Peter webbed the woman to the floor. He also snagged the book with another piece of webbing; no reason to leave it behind. The book sagged as Peter reeled it in. “How heavy is this thing?” he demanded.

Wade glanced at the book. “If I recognize this,” he said absently, “about sixty pounds.”

“Sixty pounds?” demanded Peter, his vision graying slightly as Wade moved him. “What exactly is it?”

“I don’t think anyone is really sure. It sort of showed up a few years ago and has been bouncing around private collections ever since.” Wade carefully carried both Peter and the book out of the building. “Shit!” he swore when they were outside. “This was supposed to be a safe mission!”

Peter couldn't help but chuckle. “I don’t think there is a such a thing,” he said. “How many buildings have you been knocked off of?”

“Yeah,” said Wade as he walked. “But that’s me. I heal. I know he does too, but not as fast!”

Peter frowned. He healed both too fast and too slow. Too fast to risk going to a regular doctor and too slow to keep up with Wade.

“Not to worry,” Wade said as he tried to keep his steps even to prevent from jolting the injured spider in his arms, “we’ll just drop off the book-it thing and then I’ll take you back to Aunt May.”

They were a ways down the alley when suddenly the building they’d escaped exploded. Peter stared at the wreckage in horror. “All those people.”

“Not your fault,” Wade said quickly. He sagged. “Mine.”

“Your fault?” Peter frowned as he mentally reviewed the mission. Had the merc planted a bomb or something without Peter noticing? No, he hadn’t. Wouldn’t. “No,” Peter said firmly. “Not your fault, either.” He turned back to the wreckage. “It must have been some kind of self destruct,” he mused.

“Must have,” echoed Wade dully. “Come on,” he said turning and sprinting down the alley. Peter clung to consciousness with all he had. Every step hurt his legs more.

It didn’t take too long for them to reach Wade’s goal. Wade propped Peter (careful about jolting the injured legs) in a shadowed area of the park before taking the book to the swing set. Peter clenched his jaw against unnecessary sounds and worked to set the legs himself. He’d learned that his bones healed faster if they were set as soon as possible.

A woman, dark hair and sensual curves, approached the swing set. “Deadpool,” she purred.

Peter frowned. Used to hearing meaning behind words he read the dark irritation in her voice. Not usually the voice used to greet a friend. He looked up warily as the woman approached. Actually—she slunk more than she approached.

“Ana. You lied to me.” Wade’s voice was hard, cold, and almost unrecognizable.

“About what?” asked the woman, Ana, Peter supposed she was called.

“About the mission,” he said. “Medium security, no powers, that’s what you told me.”

The woman shrugged. “So they hired extra help after I looked into it. Not like you can die,” she added carelessly.

Rage flickered in Peter at the tone. He grit his teeth as he started to understand Wade’s casual attitude towards injury and dying. It took all his will to stay seated where he was and not draw attention to himself.

Wade merely sighed and tossed the book to the woman—who caught it easily. “That’s my friend,” the woman purred.

Peter had heard enough. He got up, barely registering the sharp pains in both legs, and strode over before webbing the book to her hand and the rest of her to the swings. “That,” he said grimly to the woman, “is no way to be. You can’t base ‘friendship’ on favors. That’s not how it works,” he told her before pulling his phone out.

“Spidey, what are you doing?” asked Wade.

“Look, you said the contract was complete when she was holding the book. She’s holding the book. Contract complete,” Peter grumbled as he dialed. “It’s me,” he told the operator. “Came across what looked like a shady deal at the park.” He rattled off the park’s address. “The buyer is webbed. The seller?” He turned to look at Wade and firmly added, “The seller got away.” He looked back at the woman as he slipped the phone back into his pocket. “They’ll be here in twenty minutes,” he told her. He took off quickly.

Wade loped off after him. “Hey, what?” he asked the hero.

Peter stopped for a moment and then looked at the merc. “All right, listen,” he told the man. “If something happened and you did kill someone in the city—we’d still be friends. Granted, we’d be friends with distance because I wouldn't be able to let you stay in the city—but we’d still be friends. It’s not dependent on you doing anything for me.”

The Deadpool mask stared at him for a moment, eerily still. Then he pointed down. “Do you realize you’re walking on broken legs?” he asked.

“What?” Peter looked down and stared as he gently stomped his feet against the ground. “Oh—huh.”

The two continued on their way. “You need to figure out how to do that on purpose,” Wade told him as he locked fingers behind his head.

“I wouldn't even know where to start,” Peter said wearily.

Later, the two men would find out that their mysterious adversary was known as The Witch. They found that out—the same time they found out that there was no female body found in the explosion.

#Spider-Man #Deadpool #Spideypool #flashback #flash back

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newtafterdark · 4 years

Text

Taste of Metal - Chapter 10: Sweet Beans AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26157634/chapters/66411679 What if the overwhelming VR experience Gordon went through, had a deeper purpose than just being a simple simulation & a freelance debug job for him?But most importantly- what if Gordon Freeman listens to Metal & used to be in a band? aka. the “Metalhead Gordon AU”

- - The digital clock on the wall said 4:36 PM.

Gordon was laying on the futons in the living room, limbs lazily stretched out and staring at the ceiling. Most members of the Science Team were currently preparing dinner in the kitchen, supervised by Joshua.

The past few days had been... certainly something. It felt like he had attempted speedrunning several different things at the same time because there was an unsettling feeling of time running out fast for something if he didn't.

He knew that was his anxiety. The feeling of too little time for anything, his thoughts running 88 miles per hour, sending him down rabbit holes of thoughts and worries. Especially, since his last job for Black Mesa had him mess up his medication schedule during his time in the simulation. He was slowly getting back to what he considered his personal normal state... and it was honestly a relief.

Gordon turned his head to the side, acknowledging Benrey, who was sitting beside him on a pillow, Gordon's injured arm gently laying on his open palms as he was applying a new layer of healing sweetvoice to it.

His arm was significantly better now. Still sensitive to touch, but all in all healing. Though he had to admit that the scars that had been forming in the process were... unique.

The edge of where the mess started was more akin to what he had expected - lighter coloured slightly bumpy lines & patches where the skin had been damaged.

But the area where it had been an open wound? That's where it looked... unusual. It looked like a protective layer of flesh & skin had formed where it shouldn't have without a proper surgery. The skin there was just as light as the scarring on the edge... but it felt new. Sensitive. And a certain amount of weird because... well, this simply wasn't what a human body would do on its own during a healing process.

Then again... his body had been getting help with the whole thing-

Gordon closed his eyes and let out a soft hum, almost harmonizing with Benrey holding a steady note beside him, as the cool sweetvoice hit his arm.

He hadn't really had the time to ponder over the fact that he was sharing his apartment with several non-humans... but laying on a comfy futon, having to hold still and wait for Benrey to be done sweetvoicing at him - yeah, that sounded like a good time as any.

Well, until he noticed that Benrey stopped singing. He opened one eye, seeing Benrey looking at him with a questioning look on his face, his head slightly tilted to the left.

"Yo, you gonna space out on me with 'em big thoughts?", Benrey asked.

Gordon chuckled at that.

"I told you once and I'll tell you again - your sweetvoice is good. Helpful and... just really relaxing. Helps my brain shut up about the painful shit and lets me focus on things I actually want to think about. Can't help it, my dude.", he said with a shrug and a soft smile.

"Huh.", was all Benrey said, keeping eye contact with Gordon.

The human in question blinked up at the guard.

"If you want... I can tell you my thoughts while you do... uh... the healing thing? No need to reply to me, just... I don't know, me rambling for a bit?"

Now it was Benrey's turn to blink - and to Gordon's surprise similarly to a lizard, an eye-lid-like part of eyes closing over them sideways.

"... that's so fucking cool...", Gordon whispered in awe, staring at Benrey with wide eyes.

"Whu- What?"

"The thing your eyes do when you blink! I... I guess I was never close enough to actually notice it. It just looks cool, is all I'm saying."

"W-Wow, Gordon Flirtman here trying to butter me up with the compliments?"

Despite his quick retort, Benrey visibly turned a shade darker and averted his eyes, letting out a few pink orbs of sweetvoice before returning to the healing teal.

Gordon let out an amused huff, resting his free arm behind his head and looking back at the ceiling.

"Look, I just appreciate all the cool non-human things you and the others can do. I... I don't know how much of it was just part of the simulation and what you can do now that you're free again... but it's simply exciting to me!"

He heard a slightly deeper-pitched tone coming from Benrey, somehow making him feel like it was okay to continue talking.

"So many terrifying things crawled out of the Breach over the past years... all with the goal to destroy and to conquer. The Kaiju and every other creature related to them were all I had for reference for non-human beings for a long time. Aside from Joshua, of course, but you get what I mean."

Benrey let out a few notes that sounded similar to a soft "Uh-huh".

Gordon continued.

"But as scary as you guys think you are... and as you can be-"

Gordon turned his head towards Benrey once more.

"- Thank you for being you. Silly, obnoxious, chaotic and kind. And for showing me that not everything you can find beyond portals and in shady labs is something I should fear forever. That I needed to learn to listen and learn, again. To understand. To actually be the kind of scientist I always wanted to be."

They sat there for a while, Benrey laser-focused on Gordon's arm, a few stray orbs of sweetvoice remaining in the air between them as he eventually closed his mouth.

"I did a good... thing? By being- uh, me?", Benrey eventually stuttered out, still gently holding Gordon's arm in his hands.

Gordon nodded.

"No one told you to apologize to me after everything - even when I told you not to worry- but you did so anyway and on your own accord. Not to mention you are actively helping me heal physically since the moment you guys found me."

He reached over, resting his hand on Benrey's knee.

"You may not be human, Benrey... but you are a person who tries to make up for the things they fucked up. And that's a good thing, in my book."

Benrey's brows were furrowed as he slowly nodded.

"I'm.... n-not a bad guy? All the time?"

"You're a menace with Gremlin energy at worst, at this point."

That made Benrey snort, Gordon laughing softly in return.

"Uh, feed me snacks 24/7 and I'll be the greatest cool!", Benrey added with a grin.

"That's not how Gremlins work!", Gordon wheezed, moving his hand and pinching the bridge of his nose as he tried to keep himself from breaking out into loud laughter.

"Only got the energy, bro. Am not small or fuzzy... right now."

Gordon slowly sat up, intrigued by the implications of those last two words. He opted to sit cross-legged, radiating curiosity and excitement as his hand was drumming away on his thigh.

"Shapeshifting... Shapeshifting!! Okay, okay! Tell me when I get too personal with my questions but... uh... you can change your appearance not just in size? Holy shit man, that's... that's WILD!"

Benrey stared at Gordon with wide eyes for a second, taken off-guard by the man's excitement for his more out-there powers. He rubbed the back of his neck nervously - something he had observed Gordon doing sometimes and added to his own mannerisms.

"Yeah, uh, character creation ain't perma-locked. Can access that anytime I want. Makes me tired when I do it too much... but it's cool.", he said, then looking somewhat unsure- "Would you... be a big cool with me doing that? Around here? SMALL WAYS! N-No big Benny. Just... feel comfy here. To do that, I mean."

Gordon smiled at that, reaching over to place a hand on Benrey's shoulder.

"Dude, as long as you don't go full horror and accidentally scare the shit out of any of us, go ahead. I don't know... what you have in mind with "small ways"... but I am curious, so... go ham."

"You sure? Is right now okay?"

"Uh... if you want, yeah!"

Gordon was about to remove his hand to give Benrey some space, but within the blink of an eye Benrey's hands looked... almost paw-like. His fingertips ended in dull claws, while the skin on his hands had a slight gradient to them, reminding Gordon of the ever-present shadow on Benrey's face. He let out a soft gasp-

"Holy SHIT?!- Let me see?? Can I touch them?"

"Huh? Ain't nothing fancy, but sure."

Gordon mirrored Benrey's previous gentleness with his arm as he now carefully took one of Benrey's hands (paws?) in his own.

"Wow...", Gordon breathed, slowly turning it over-

"HOLY FUCK YOU HAVE BEANS????? PAW BEANS?"

Benrey let out a crackle at that but nodded.

"Sometimes, 'cause it makes stuff easier. Climbing and holding shit and all that. Got that perfect gamer grip."

"..."

Benrey tilted his head at Gordon's sudden silence.

"Uh... ?"

Gordon looked up from staring at Benrey's hand, the biggest smirk on his face.

"So... you got paw beans."

"Y-Yeah?"

"Which means you also have toe beans-"

"What you talking about Feetm-"

"Beanrey."

"Wha-"

"BEANREY!"

"NO!", Benrey exclaimed through already starting to laugh, as Gordon fell back on the futon wheezing, barely managing out a "YES!" in reply.

#hlvrai #hlvrai gordon #hlvrai benrey #benrey #gordon feetman #Metalhead Gordon AU #metalhead gordon #you have no idea how much I love this chapter #it gave me so much serotonin #may it give you just as much aND MORE #fanfic #fanfics

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microcos-pod · 3 years

Text

Micro-Cosmos S1E3: A Little Piece of Home Transcript

(The crew celebrates a special day. Transcript begins below break.)

[THEME MUSIC FADES IN] ANNOUNCER Futuristic Trail Mix Productions presents Micro-Cosmos: A Science Fiction Podcast. [THEME MUSIC FADES OUT] [sfx: button press] ATHENA Hey, HQ. It's Officer Athena Romero, with Crew #0137-F. I'm transmitting from... North 54 degrees, West 109 degrees, in a moment of alone time. Camp's not too far, I just... wanted to come out here to record. We were up so, so early, but we made really good time getting our travel in for the day. And... I don't know. I felt like being introspective. I know that's rarely a good thing to be, for people of our situation... but sometimes it can't be helped, I guess. We're nearing what Doctor Couvillion calls the temperate forest region of the planet. Oh, uh, Felix is... fine, by the way, in case you were wondering. I know I haven't talked about him a lot for the last week since his little run in with Mercutio, and in hindsight, that was probably a little alarming from your perspective. But, no. He's, um... just been very focused on his work. Ever since our encounter with that little... strange... cat lizard dinosaur thing, he's taken to a pretty enthusiastic approach of figuring out what it actually is. You know, what is eats, how it behaves, it's characteristics. Thus, he's not been his usual social self, but he's had what I guess you'd call a breakthrough. He's named it. The species, I mean. Varanus concolor. Apparently he's determined that it's a new species of monitor lizard. Exciting stuff. Miles and Cal have been sorta... tense, the last little bit? I don't know if Miles is still mad at them about that terrible, terrible prank or just for being, you know, Cal. I like Cal. And Miles. Honestly, I do. I think they're almost a little too similar to get along sometimes. I get that. I've been in the same spot for most of my life. I only recently figured out how to sort of... stop taking my own reflection personally. [sfx: fingers drumming on comms, pacing footsteps] ATHENA (CONT’D) Alex is good! If you're wondering. You know, morale and all. We've been talking a lot, since we're sort of the only ones not in our own world. Well, I guess we're all in our own world, that's sort of our job, but...

[Athena laughs.] ATHENA (CONT’D) Literal humour, Athena. Good one. Anyways, she's nice to talk to. Leadership skills to boot, in case you didn't already know and needed someone to sing her praises. I think I'd be more than willing to sing her praises. So... the mission's going very well. Everyone is healthy and accounted for, and we're absolutely on track to get to our shipment drop-off point. Comms and tech and climate are all nominal. We're okay. We're okay.

[sfx: bag shuffling as she picks it up, footsteps] ATHENA (CONT'D) Oh, by the way, before I head back. It's my birthday. I don't know if that's something I should mention. Just thought... I don't know. I don't expect the others to notice, or even know at all, really. But it's nice to acknowledge another year, you know? I'm certainly not spending it where I would've expected to be if you had asked me on my previous... thirty birthdays. Anyways. Yes, it is my birthday, and I kind of miss home, and also I kind of don't, and also being here is present enough. So, I will celebrate by breaking open some of the candy in my bag, and getting some sleep- FELIX, ALEX SURPRISE! HAPPY BIRTHDAY!! [Athena laughs.] ATHENA Guys! What are you doing?

ALEX Oh, come on Romero. You didn't really think you were going to get it past us, did you?

ATHENA No, I wasn't meaning to-

ALEX Oh, don't bother backtracking. You're busted.

FELIX There's no real party, or, presents, or... anything that would make this a proper birthday because of our circumstance, of course, but...

ALEX But an ambush was the least we could do.

FELIX The Commander and I only found out when she was conversing with Cal, inquiring of the database today's points of interest, or else we would've...

ALEX Done more than an ambush.Alex observes Athena, who's just standing there, staring at the two of them and grinning. But, I don't know. Seems like the ambush worked out pretty well. Try to smile less, huh?

ATHENA Heh. I, I mean... this is really sweet of you guys, I appreciate it.

MILES Appreciate what?

[sfx: footsteps, tapping on a screen] [C41′s JINGLE PLAYS] ATHENA Oh, uh, hey Miles!

MILES Heeey Athena, guys. What's up?

FELIX Did we...?

ALEX Nope.

FELIX So we forgot to...?

ALEX Yep.

FELIX Dammit.

ALEX Well, when you assume...

C41 Oh, um! Happy Birthday, Athena!

ATHENA Oh, uh, thank you Cal. Anyways, I was thinking we could get to bed early-

MILES Crap, it's your birthday?

ATHENA ... Yeah.

MILES I am so so sorry, I had no idea, I must have like, missed the memo, but-

ATHENA No, no, Miles, it's okay, I promise. I didn't say anything, and so how would you know? Spending it away from home, I wasn't really sure what to do, it's kind of hard, but...I just got busted by the Commander, so... [The crew laughs nervously.] MILES Happy Birthday.

ATHENA Thanks.

MILES You're welcome. Yeah, uh, actually, Cal and I forgot something back at our setup.

C41 We did?

MILES We did. The thing. We need. We need that thing, Cal, uh... we will be back... later. [sfx: footsteps walking away]

[C41′s JINGLE PLAYS.] FELIX Well, who wants to get this party started and play some cards?

***

MILES Caal! Why didn't you tell me it was Athena's birthday?

C41 I didn't think it was that big of a deal. It's just another day of the year, which... happens to be the day that Athena was born. You can congratulate her on still being alive, like you did, and then move on! Didn't seem that important to me.

MILES Yes, it's a big deal! It's like you said, it's the day someone was born, not just another day. Come on, Cal! Remember when Em and I made a huuuge deal about it on the anniversary that I created you?

C41 By chance, do you mean Doctor Macey? If so, then unfortunately, yes I do remember. It was very loud. If not, I haven't the slightest clue who 'Em' is.

MILES Yes. Her. Doctor Macey.

C41 Okay whatever. Anyways. Do continue on with what you were saying. It's proving to be really entertaining.

MILES Oh, I'll show you entertaining.

How did you not know that birthdays were important? Seriously, there's even a song about them. I taught you better than that.

[Miles sighs.]

MILES Cally, I didn't mean it like-

C41 It's Cal. And no, you're right. Why would something the O Great and Powerful and All-Knowing Miles Abbott made be so inconsiderate and dumb?

MILES Seriously, Cal. I didn't mean it. You know how I get.

C41 Yeah?

Oh, just drop it.

[C41 lets out a long series of scoffs and huffs in the following silence.]

C41 (CONT'D) ... Miles?

Miiiiiiles...?

MILES Caaaal....

Caaaaaaaal.....

C41 Miles- MILES Cal, I need to make Athena a birthday present!

I don't even know what she'd like, let alone what I could make her! There's like, nothing even worthy of being a gift on this planet.

[sfx: Miles snapping.]

MILES (CONT'D) What do I have? What do I even have? What does our camp have? I need to find something. Anything. I'll make it work. Cal, help me look. Please.

[C41 snorts.]

C41 Oh.

Oh, you mean actually help.

[sfx: a buzzing noise of C41′s form]

C41 (CONT'D) Um... well there are some big batteries that Alex didn't need over there, she left them this morning with her equipment. There is a... There is a... it looks like... is that a plastic fork? I really hope that isn't used. You all are a mess. And, um... what's that box, over there? What's that?

[sfx: footsteps, objects being knocked over]

MILES It's, uhhh... Chocolate. And... more chocolate. A gift from Emily, I... forgot I had these.

C41 Huh. A... whole box, huh? Of chocolate? What could you even make with those?

MILES I don't know, okay? I don't even know like, maybe I'm overreacting. Athena didn't tell us because she's not at home, or whatever-

Wait. Cal, what, um, what does Athena's home have?

C41 What?

MILES Where she's from. What's it like?

C41 Patroclus C? Well, it's-

[sfx: a long glitch]

C41 (CONT'D)- Patroclus C. A moon in orbit around more well-known terrestrial body Mirana Dunis. Patroclus-C is known for it's industrial prosperity and plentiful resources, as well as it's freezing conditions.

Notable landmarks include it's few geysers. All imported plant and animal life have adapted to the cold climate, however they take refuge in the steamy geysers that provide both water and heat- MILES Okay, Cal. That's enough, thanks.

[sfx: the same glitch, a zap]

C41 Oh, ouch. Eugh. Why did you let that happen? You know I hate that mode!

MILES I'm sorry! I'm stressing a bit here, if you haven't noticed.

C41 Yes, I'm well aware.

MILES Anyways. I... I think I have a plan.

C41 That's never good.

MILES Let's just hope this turns out. Mmm.... a decent start. ***

FELIX Have any... fives?

ALEX Go fish. [sfx: drawing a playing card].

ALEX (CONT'D) Got any queens?

FELIX Yes, yes. Queen of stars.

ALEX Thank you! Got any threes?

FELIX Go fish.

[sfx: drawing a card]

ALEX So close.

[sfx: approaching footsteps]

FELIX (with his mouth full) Better luck next time. Do you have any-

ALEX Want us to deal you in, Romero?

FELIX Athena? Hm. Cannot believe you were still doing work on your birthday.

ATHENA What's the name of the game?

ALEX Go fish. Do you play?

ATHENA I like to think cribbage is more my forte but... sure. Deal me in.

[sfx: cards shuffling]

ATHENA (CONT'D) Who's winning?

ALEX Me. I've won three matches.

ATHENA And how many has Felix won?

ALEX We've played three matches.

[Alex and Athena laugh.]

FELIX I am beginning to suspect her a cheat.

ALEX Can't help having an eye for this stuff.

ATHENA For what, counting cards?

ALEX I wish. Patterns. Got any kings, Athena?

ATHENA Go fish. Is that technically cheating, then? Patterns?

[sfx: drawing a card]

FELIX I believe I can call it cheating if it makes me feel badly about myself.

ATHENA Fair enough. Felix? Any fours?

FELIX Go fish. See, that felt perfectly fair.

ALEX Doc, I said patterns, not x-ray vision. You keep accusing me of cheating, I'm gonna start to take it personally.

FELIX I harbor suspicion, not accusation. Commander, do you have any aces?

[Alex sighs.]

[sfx: passing cards]

ALEX Dishes and comets. Happy?

FELIX Yes. Athena, do you have any sixes?

ATHENA Yeaaah. Here you go.

[sfx: passing cards, movement of pairs]

ALEX Feeling better about yourself?

FELIX Yes. Very.

ATHENA Jeez, you're already on track to win.

ALEX Felix, should I start repaying you all that whining?

FELIX I-

MILES (distant) DOES ANYONE HAVE JUMPER CABLES?

[sfx: stumbling, approaching footsteps]

FELIX Speaking of.

ALEX Uh... no, I don't think so. Maybe you should ask Cal?

MILES (distant) No. That's okay. I'll use the transport hawser. That should work... just as well if not better. I'll... I'm gonna go get that. Bye.

[sfx: retreating footsteps]

ATHENA That's... that's for... emergencies, what do they need that for-

ALEX My guess? Nothing good.

FELIX Commander, do you have any twos?

ALEX No, but I do have a Petty Officer who needs their marbles back.

[sfx: standing, retreating footsteps]

ATHENA Alex?

ALEX (O.S.) I'll be right back!

FELIX It's her turn, actually. Which one of us should go next?

ATHENA It's my birthday. Got any sevens?

***

[sfx: shuffling]

MILES I got something! Not cables, but... almost even better.

[C41′s JINGLE PLAYS]

C41 You're... actually doing this?

Oh... Okay. Even if it may be sliiiightly dangerous? Not that I care or anything-

MILES Look, I just can't sit back and do nothing for Athena's birthday.

C41 Yeah, but I think it would be better to guarantee everyone's safety than... You know, possibly blowing us up and setting everything on fire.

[sfx: metal chain drops]

[Miles sighs.]

MILES I guess that's true. I just don't want to disappoint her.

ALEX You're not disappointing her, kid.

MILES Huh?

Oh. Hi, Commander.

ALEX Wipe that sad look off your face. Even if you didn't know, she's happy that you're at least thinking about her right now.

[sfx: footsteps, shuffling, sitting]

MILES I... guess that's true. But I want to make her something. That's what I specialize in.

ALEX Fair enough. I guess I just didn't know you guys were this good of friends.

MILES I don't know that we are. It just seems like the kind of thing I should've tried for, I guess. We've got so much time to spend together and I don't want you guys thinking I'm cold and ignoring you all just because I get wrapped up in crap and get away from myself and especially lately with everything going on with Cal-

ALEX Hey. We don't think that. And I'm not just saying that, either. What were you planning on doing?

MILES I- ... Well, if I tell you, it would ruin the surprise.

ALEX Okay, okay. Do your thing, fix-it guy.

[sfx: getting up, a few footsteps]

MILES Hey, Commander? What if she doesn't like it?

[sfx: footsteps stop]

ALEX Remember what we talked about, kid. Make it from your heart, and she'll love it.

MILES O-okay, Commander... Thank you.

ALEX No problem, Miles. Always here to help. Let me know if you need anything else, yeah?

MILES Mhm! Now, I... I gotta get this show on the road.

ALEX Cal, keep an eye on them for me.

C41 Will do, Commander.

ALEX Good luuuck!

[sfx: retreating footsteps, tent closes]

C41 Well, that surely was-

MILES Alright Cally! We have some major business to attend to!

C41 -motivational.

MILES Okay, so I'm thinking... What if we melt the plastic fork? Like, all the way, and then, and, and then shape it around to make a base for the volcano geyser thing?

C41 That sounds incredibly dangerous. And like it would be highly amusing to watch.

[sfx: a whirring]

C41 (CONT'D) And according to my calculations I am correct on both counts. Do it.

MILES And... then we can put the chocolate in- Hold on, do we have anything to keep the chocolate melted?

C41 Hm. Probably not.

MILES Dammit, okay. That's fine, that's cool, uh... We can hook it up to the batteries someway to keep the heat constant and the launch device powered, that's fine, I can do that...

This is going to be a piece of cake. Let's go, Cally!

C41 How many times to I have to tell you? It's Cal.

MILES Mhmm, yeah. Let's just kick this baby in the teeth.

C41 Wh... what?

MILES It's an expression. Like, "let's blow this popsicle stand"? Or... "let's get this show on the road"?

C41 I don't understand how that could be related to either of those meanings.

MILES Whatever. I am gonna get this thing started, and it's going to be great.

[sfx: prolonged noises of tinkering and contstruction, a zap of electricity]

[Miles yelps.]

[C41 laughs.]

MILES Not funny!

[sfx: more sounds of construction and tinkering]

MILES Aaaaand there! Done. Finished. Phew.

C41 That looks...That... looks...I mean, um...That looks so good!

MILES You think?

C41 Yeah, I think she's-

ALEX (O.S.) How's it looking in here?

MILES Yeah, I think everything went great!

ALEX Perfect!

[sfx: Alex claps]

ALEX (CONT’D) Well, grab it and let's go; we have a birthday to celebrate. Take Cal and we'll meet her and Felix at that clearing. We're doing a little more celebration for Athena.

MILES Okay, Cal. You heard the boss; let's get going then.

C41 Yuuup.

MILES You know, I’m pretty proud of this.

C41 As you should be, Miles.

***

[sfx: approaching footsteps]

MILES HEY! Hey, guys I'm back!

FELIX Hello- oh. Oh wow. What...

ATHENA Miles... what's all this?

MILES It's, uh, it's your gift!

ATHENA Oh, Miles, really you didn't need to do that, that's super sweet, but-

MILES Oh, it's... it's just a little... something... electrocuted myself a few times making it, but- Happy Birthday!

ATHENA Oh. Oh, wow, that's really something, Miles, I love it!

What is it?

MILES It's a geyser. Like... you said. Well, actually you didn't say, but I did some digging and your... your home plant has... geysers, yeah? So it's like a little piece of home.

A geyser.

ALEX A geyser.

ATHENA Oh! Yes! A geyser. Of course! That's really thoughtful, Miles, you, uh... you shouldn't have! So it's like a... trinket! Or a little... a sculpture!

ALEX Oh... just you wait.

MILES Well, it's for more than just show.

Heh. Bet you've never seen anything like this before.

FELIX I'm quite sure I have not.

[sfx: setting down the present, the geyser bubbles and erupts pathetically, with a crackle]

[Miles breathing heavily.]

MILES Ta-dah!

ATHENA Ohhhh, wow, that's... that's so cool. Was it... was it supposed to melt like that?

MILES It was not the intention but apparently... that doesn't matter now-

[C41′s JINGLE PLAYS]

C41 Evidently.

[sfx: more crackling]

ALEX Oh, okay, is this thing going to blow, Miles? Like actually, really blow?

MILES Shouldn't. It's a possibility... but it shouldn't.

ALEX Cal?

C41 Probably not? It'll be fine! Maybe Miles should get a little closer to shield the blast just in case.

MILES DON'T YOU RUIN THIS BY TRYING TO GET ME KILLED!

C41 Who, me? Never.

[sfx: the crackling and bubbling stops]

ALEX Alright, okay, okay. That was very cool. Right Athena?

ATHENA Right!

ATHENA (CONT'D) Look Miles, I really appreciate this, it's very, very sweet and I just hope you didn't feel like you had to do this, or anything-

MILES No, no, no. I wanted to. I mean... you were around to... keep me calm when I thought we were gonna get eaten in the woods. I didn't want you to think I didn't care, and... I wanted to make something nice for you. Normally I have more stuff to work with than forks and batteries and... chocolate.

FELIX Real chocolate?

ALEX Yes, real chocolate. Not now.

FELIX Ugh, and it's all on the grass, and... what a waste.

ALEX There will be more chocolate. Actually. Felix?

[sfx: receding footsteps]

[Alex and Felix whisper as they retreat.]

ATHENA Um, okay, but... Anyways. Thank you, Miles. That was a lot of fun. And I hope you didn't actually electrocute yourself.

MILES Oh, don't worry, it's not the first time.

C41 They're not joking.

MILES More of a shock than anything.

ATHENA Doesn't sound great for your health either way.

MILES Well, heh, yeah, I mean- Hey, wait a second. Wait what's-

ATHENA Huh?

[sfx: candles burning, approaching steps]

[Alex, Felix, Miles and C41 begin singing “Happy Birthday”]

ATHENA (overlapping) Oh, my... guys, what are you... that better not be our only fruit cake-

ALEX Come on, blow out the... flare candles. Make a wish.

ATHENA Okay, okay!

[sfx: blowing on candles, a glitch]

[sfx: candles burning]

[Alex laughs.]

[Athena hums in confusion]

[sfx: blowing on candles, a glitch]

[sfx: candles burning]

ALEX Come on, Romero. All in one go, now.

ATHENA Right. [sfx: blowing on candles, candles extinguishing]

[The crew cheers.] ALEX Happy Birthday. I'll clean up Miles's present later.

[Alex and Athena laugh.]

FELIX Time for cake!

[Felix leads Alex, Miles, and C41 in singing “For She’s a Jolly Good Fellow”]

FELIX Cake! ***

[THEME MUSIC FADES IN]

ANNOUNCER Micro-Cosmos: A New Science Fiction Podcast. This episode, "A Little Piece of Home", was written by Zyrel Thompson and Lauren Tucker, edited by Luka Miller, and directed by Jesse Smith, Zyrel Thompson, and Lauren Tucker. It starred Jesse Smith as the voice of Athena Romero, Jackson Rossman as the voice of Miles Abbott, Luka Miller as the voice of Alex dela Cruz, Kaleb Piper as the voice of Felix Couvillion, and Pippa van Beek-Paterson as the voice of Cal. Original music by Julia Barnes, and sound editing by Tobias Friedman. Be sure to stay tuned to our feed for upcoming episodes from the new backpacking intergalactic adventure from Futuristic Trail Mix Productions. To follow the show and find transcripts, you can find us on Twitter, Tumblr, and Instagram as @MicroCosPod. Questions, comments, and concerns can be emailed to us via [email protected]. Find more information on the show on our website, microcospod.space. Thank you for listening.

[THEME MUSIC FADES OUT]

#micro-cosmos #Microcosmos #micrcosmos #microcos pod #new podcast #science fiction #sciencefictionpodcast #audio drama #microcospod #podcast reccomendation #fiction podcast

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