#episode: Truth

[miraculouscontent]

A semi-random thought that occurred to me today and a good example of why I will never go out of my way/seek out the arguments of love square stans:

Let’s talk about That Scene in “Truth” real quick with the Adrien pictures, and I mean seriously talk about it from both a writing perspective and in-universe. The simplified version is simply that it has nothing to do with the actual break-up and actually damages the argument of love square stans rather than helps, but I’ll explain in more detail.

Firstly, it’s an actual, literal fact that Adrien himself has nothing to do with the break-up between Marinette and Luka. If you were able to magically edit out the Adrien pictures from Marinette’s wall and all scenes/lines that mention him, nothing would change: we’d be watching an episode where Marinette tries to date Luka, is cut off at every chance due to Ladybug duties (which stress her out so much to the point of being even more forgetful than usual), he gets akumatized, they break up because they’re unable to have the honest relationship that both Marinette and Luka want, and Marinette sobs to herself in her room because she can’t date due to being Ladybug.

Any mentions of Adrien do nothing for the actual story, which brings me to my next point:

Both in-universe and narratively speaking, the show already makes it obvious before The Call happens that this is not just a Marinette problem, but a universe problem. The girls, Ziggy, Luka, and the girls again drag in Adrien to be the topic of discussion at different points in the stories without Marinette’s direct input. At no point during the episode does Marinette herself bring up Adrien without him being the topic first.

This tells us two things:

1 - Marinette’s problem with Adrien extends to other people bringing him up to her unnecessarily. The argument can’t be made that Marinette and only Marinette brought it on herself, because the fact that it’s a problem at all should dictate that the others should stop enabling it by bringing Adrien up.

2 - Marinette can and does have the capacity to not make things about Adrien, but the mention of him makes her lose all sense of self.

If the intent of mentioning Adrien is to imply that Marinette is using Luka as a replacement for him, that disregards what actually happens in the episode. In “Truth,” Marinette is near Adrien on two separate occasions (with Luka directly nearby) and doesn’t have a reaction to him, choosing instead to favor Luka. This contradicts The Call, which suddenly looks more like a moment of panic of her magically-reappearing Adrien wall than Marinette viewing Luka as an Adrien substitute. Marinette also gives Luka a gift specific to him, meaning she thought very much of him and what he would want.

While stans would argue the point that Marinette forgot her date with Luka, she clearly didn’t forget The Gift despite showing in later episode that she forgets virtually everything. This is even disregarding the fact that Marinette essentially tells the audience directly that her memory is shot because of her responsibilities (and any arguing beyond that is gaslighting people with horrible memories into thinking they don’t care about people simply because they’ve forgotten something important about them; S T O P).

A properly-written story would show more evidence to its case, such as Marinette seeing Adrien in place of Luka when they hang out, Marinette whispering Adrien’s name just before she and Luka (try to) kiss, Marinette giving Luka a gift she’d once intended for Adrien (but failed to give him), and Marinette admitting to herself at the end that she was settling for Luka. Not only do none of these things happen, but the show tells its audience in “Gang of Secrets” that Marinette fell for Luka and that she didn’t break up with him due to not liking him. The show, naturally, tries to retcon that in “Crocoduel,” but the retcon proves that they saw the “issue” and didn’t know how to fix it.

Stans will of course continue to argue then about The Call and all the supposed “pro love square implications” it has without realizing the very hole they’re digging themselves into. I mean, this is even going beyond the fact that they will repeatedly bash Marinette for her behavior concerning Adrien whilst they still ship the love square we have in canon.

Basically, everything in “Truth” is explained with one simple sentence: Marinette is obsessed with Adrien, but in love with Luka, and everyone mistakes Marinette being obsessed with being “in true love.”

Obsession takes over Marinette’s mind, her life, everything, and I’ve done whole posts about how thoroughly Marinette’s Adrien crush has ruined her life rather than made it better. Case in point, Marinette wouldn’t even be guardian in the first place had it not been for the Adrien obsession, meaning the Season 4 finale wouldn’t have happened.

Using The Call to prove Love Square Supremacy isn’t furthering their point, but rather shining a spotlight on the exact issue with the love square and why it should never have been endgame in the first place.

[daftmooncretin]

fellas is it gay to lovingly caress your captains face as you remove his memories because you don’t want him to cry anymore. (he’s crying because he flirted with leonardo da vinci’s robot girlfriend too hard and she blew up fyi) just before this a mutual friend told you he pitied you because you had no capacity to love.

[emotionaldisaster909]

look

look at his smile

this gentle, innocent smile

so unbelievably happy and relieved to see Xie Lian after all those years, alive and well

gods, that’s why i love donghua so MUCH

because THIS IS THE LOOK you’d have after 800 years of devotion, of searching, hoping, longing, loving

they don’t try to make him aloof and sexy in that yaoi-seme kinda way

they just make him TRUE

[seenthisepisode]

u know how fbi and nasa agents are now in court testifying under oath about the aliens. well i want something like that. put dabb singer and pedowitz on trial. with berens jackles and misha as witnesses

[houseswife]

kinda has me creasing how wilson is just casually on the world’s slowest treadmill for the entirety of this scene. he’s like a hamster

[riickgrimes]

"The key thing was of course, the fact that Rick has PTSD and that's very much what's driving a lot of his behavior and being in a place of that level of vulnerability, back with the love of his life in that way.

It's also the thing he fears, the loss of her. It manifests itself in a way that is visceral and leads to the lovemaking not just being about love, but the revealing of pain and trauma and fear. That informs Michonne, that she can't just blast him into making sense. There's something deeper going on here that he can't verbalize. She has to help him get through in a different way. So she gets to see him, as well, as he reveals what's really in there, the wound. That's going to happen most likely in that most vulnerable space." — Danai Gurira

"Yeah, I think it is about pain. As Danai just said, it's about him wanting her and then fearing what he's about to unlock again. He gets to sort of articulate it in the scene further in the episode, when he gets to say that, 'I can't do this again. I haven't got the capacity to do this again. I've worked out how to die and live again.' So it is an absolutely necessary scene that allows Michonne to realize that there's something really broken here, more broken than she's ever anticipated. [...]

So the scene was about a real intimacy, a sort of frightening intimacy. This is a part of his personality he has shut down. It's almost like he's trying to stop himself from feeling this love again. She sees that and she just says, 'Just trust. We're back. We're the same...' I find it very moving. I think it's a very, very moving scene, because it's about them connecting in a way that he's had to deny for seven years. He's denied that connection for the sake of living on in this half life for the CRM" — Andrew Lincoln

Andrew Lincoln and Danai Gurira Discuss Episode 4 of The Walking Dead: The Ones Who Live

[trek-tracks]

Gee, I wonder why Bones doesn't tell you sensitive and private medical information, Jim

[burst-of-iridescent]

the thing about the ember island play is that though it is certainly inaccurate, it is distorted - not false.

the whole point of the play is that the gaang do recognize aspects of themselves - their mistakes and desires and choices - in it! aang is cheerful and traditionally non-masculine, katara is intrinsically hopeful, toph is strong and doesn't conform to social norms of femininity, sokka is comedic, and zuko was obsessed with regaining his honour.

the reason it affects them at all is because it does hold a kernel of truth - because, though exaggerated, it draws upon traits, actions and relationships that genuinely exist. and so having katara call aang her brother and implying real romantic feelings between zuko and katara in this episode where every supposed exaggeration is underscored by reality only lends credence to those implications instead of dismissing them.

after all, if the play was meant to spoof zutara... it can only be because there was indeed something real to spoof in the first place.

[b1gwings]

the first episode of fhjy was such a fucking blast. one of my favorite moments was most of the bad kids succeeding on their saving throws against being Frightened by the Night Yorb but Adaine failed, and when Brennan asked Siobhan how this looks/feels for Adaine, Siobhan was answered “i feel a panic attack coming on.”

and it’s like. as much as Adaine has changed since the beginning, it’s really refreshing to see that her anxiety disorder didn’t vanish with her character development. like, they’re acknowledging how that kinda stuff doesn’t just go away — you can’t really get over it so easily. Love u forever Adaine & Siobhan <3

[bigshotautos]

XxXEMO_LUV_4EVERXxX (for a collaboration with @jumblejunction!!!!!!!!!!!! )

[tornado1992]

Sonic is acting strange.

From the moment he entered the cave at the top of the mountain and going on even after Shadow finished the battle, he was more energetic, talking faster than usual, to his friends’s eyes happier than they had ever seen him before. But deep inside his mind and heart, he felt more melancholic than anything.

Rouge said something about to going visit Shadow, wherever he’d gone, though it’s not probable that Shadow would gift her a powerful gem of inter dimensional proportions, it’s still a possibility. He finds himself comfortable with the idea of either of them guarding it, after all, Shadow would never let it bring chaos to their lives again, and now he knows Rouge it’s a better leader than he could ever be, they both would make the right call.

Sparring with Knuckles was as much of a way to get the stress out of his system as it is a reminder that the guardian isn’t a glory driven danger prone sailor, nor a extremely paranoid jungle survivor, and definitely not a soldier willing to hit an 8 year old if it means saving the world, no, he’s just Knucks. Ready to put him back in his tracks every time he goes off, same old Knucklehead.

Asking Amy to help him bake a cake to celebrate their victory on the mountain took her by surprise, not expecting Sonic to have the consideration or patience to think about and prepare that kind of gift just so their friends would enjoy it together. But what really shook her to the core was how many times he thanked her through the making, in his mind just one of those “thank you” was for the cake, the rest of them were for everything else.

Tails knows Sonic is acting strange.

it wasn’t just the sudden consideration on his words and actions, but also the eagerness to just spend time with them, an insane amount of time in which he paid attention to everyone and everything, he looked to the sea as if it was more of a new racetrack than an obstacle to his speed, he turned his sight to the sky as if he’d forgotten it was blue, and gazed to the palm trees as if he’d never seen one before. But most of it all, between his friends and the rest of the world, Sonic was looking at him.

It wasn’t the normal look he’d give him everyday, being the only one Sonic hadn’t been alone with since the mountain battle was weird enough, they would usually race and joke together after every battle, but not this time; Sonic was actively keeping him at arms length while never getting his eyes off of him, It didn’t matter who was Sonic talking to or what was he doing, if Tails was around, he was looking at him.

Every time he was smiling he would look back to see if he was smiling too, when one of his friends tried to approach him Sonic would instantly get in their way without any more reason than to talk to them, if there was a sudden movement or loud noise Sonic would turn to him as if to expect him to be gone, the calmness in his body being noticeable every time he found him.

It felt wrong, it felt distant, it felt as if he was a problem. He hasn’t felt like this in years.

Hours and hours later when their friends finally got too tired of watching Sonic’s odd behavior they all went their own way for the night, with Rouge just disappearing in the dark, Knuckles claiming he had places to be, and Amy saying the day had drained her and she needed sleep, Sonic and Tails were finally alone.

The walk to Tails’ lab was quick, but quiet. The silence prevailed all the way before they entered the house and closed the door, then it wasn’t quiet anymore.

With the way Sonic practically launched himself over Tails knocking the air out of him as he hugged the kit tightly, both falling to the floor as Sonic held him against his chest with one hand while the other one placed itself securing the fox’s head just below Sonic’s chin. Tails was quiet, way too shocked with the sudden affection after a whole day of being so close while feeling so far away. But Sonic’s sobs and whimpers weren’t quiet at all.

They were loud and broken, not forming any comprehensible words as hiccups broke in every time it seemed like he was actually trying to say something, as if he held back from crying for hours, It felt guilty, sorrowful, and desperate.

Tails found himself breaking his silence and asking repeatedly “what’s wrong?!” as he reciprocated the hug just for Sonic to tighten his arms around him, breaking into fully crying this time, with a sea of tears falling from the speedster’s eyes to the genius’ head, not letting him go even for a second, not loosening his grip after what felt like hours of holding his little brother, who held him back just as tightly.

Even if the tears stopped, their embrace didn’t, with the morning warmth closer than midnight’s coldness the blue hedgehog found himself surrounding the sleepy fox as he fought sleep’s calling to stay with his big brother.

“I love you” was muttered to the boy’s ears as he was claimed by the land of dreams, in which he could fly all day with the shining star he called his brother.

Tails wasn’t sure if that whisper was part of his dream. Sonic knew it wasn’t

[technicolourtelevision]

Hugo: I'm a little concerned to freelance. Can I get a sign off from Karolina and Roman? Kendall: No, pal. No. Down-low. Just get on it. Unless… You want me to pull out the strap-on?

SUCCESSION || 4x04

[stevebabey]

steve harrington but it's that jeff winger moment from community. if u have seen community, u will know... my first stobin-centric piece <3 tw for parental neglect and a prior act of self-harm. this is absolutely on the steve harrington has bad parents train <3

“Steven, this is ridiculous.”

Robin freezes in place. Her hand hovers over the remote she's just placed back down, her limbs locking up one by one at the sound of the voice at the door.

It is not a familiar voice. She knows who it is all the same.

She fights not to move, knowing the couch springs, old and rusted, threaten to reveal her hiding place, even if it is her house. Robin is very much allowed to be here. Expected, even.

But Steve? Steve is not.

It’s why there’s one Christine Harrington on the dingy porch steps.

It’s an unwelcome surprise — even after all the fuss of the 4th of July, a thousand police sirens, endless NDAs, and too much blood on his uniform, Steve’s parents hadn’t shown.

Out of town, Steve had said, his bashed in face making it impossible to read his expression. His eyes were haunted and misty but Robin couldn’t tell if it was from the horror of the night or… a loneliness far older.

So Robin had done the fussing. Had dragged him home with her, shooed away her rightfully nosy parents, and mended him up on her bathroom counter.

Steve had been silent, a little wide-eyed as she worked on each cut, each bruise — but with her gentle touch, he had been helpless to do anything but melt beneath it.

He’d called her Robbie for the first time that night. They’d fallen asleep with their hands intertwined, her arm hanging off the bed to reach out to him on her bedroom floor.

Robin still hasn’t met Steve’s parents, even though it’s been more than a couple months since that night.

She’s been to his house countless times too. She knows where the spare key is, if she ever loses her own copy, that is. Knows which stair squeaks on the way up to the second floor and how the lock on the downstairs bathroom gets jammed too easily.

She’s eaten the best grilled cheese of her life in their kitchen, sitting on the counter.

She’s laughed so hard she’s cried on their couch, getting the throw pillows wet with her happy tears.

She’s still never met Steve’s parents. Til right now.

Christine Harrington has her arms wrapped tight around her frame and Robin has no doubt that on her face is a frown that could make babies cry.

She can’t see her face though. Can only just see a glimpse of her tense body from where she sits. Steve blocks part of her view, his own tense frame in the doorway.

He’d answered the door instead of Robin only because he had the foresight to glance at the front window after the first rap at the door. It was late. Robin’s parents certainly wouldn’t knock at their own home and neither of them were expecting visitors.

The expensive car in the drive, a sore thumb along Robin’s street, had given away the identity of just who was knocking so late in the evening. So, Steve had opened it.

“Mom—”

“I mean utterly ridiculous.” Steve gets cut off without second thought, Christine continuing on as if she hasn’t heard him at all.

“Did you expect us to spend all evening chasing you around? Figuring out where you were tonight from the Carlton’s across the road?”

She’s got this snippy tone that Robin’s heard a thousand times from teachers. Patronising. Too cold for it to seem like a genuinely concerned parent.

“The Carlton’s?” Steve echoes, a bit meek. His shoulders have rolled forward, sinking down a bit and Robin can see his tight grip on the door. Still, she stays frozen, rooted to the couch.

“Yes, Steven.” Christine says his full name again, all bite. “Imagine the shame your father and I felt hearing that. Hearing who you had been associating with.”

“Don’t say that.” Steve grits out immediately, anger bleeding into his tone.

The muscles in his back ripple as he forces his shoulders back, as if he had remembered how to stand up straight at the mention of his friend.

Robin aches; at the reminder of the stark differences of their upbringings and at Steve’s unquestionable loyalty. She finally unfreezes, sitting up a little straighter and leaning forward more— ready to spring up from her seat.

She’s not sure what for exactly. She sorta really wants to go slam the door on Steve’s mom’s face and go back to being bundled up on the couch with him. The urge is strong enough to make her fingers twitch.

“Why are you here, Mom?”

There’s a strain to Steve’s question, even though he doesn’t falter in appearance. Robin can’t see his face either though. She hopes it’s got the bitchiest expression Steve can muster.

“Don’t be smart, Steven.” Christine reprimands coldly. “I know that we may have taken a larger absence than intended but that’s not any excuse to parade yourself around with the strays of this town.”

Strays. Robin feels the word pelt into her and burn into her skin, sinking all the way down. It feels like cold water has tipped down the back of her neck. An unwelcome pit forms in her stomach.

She had known, of course, the reputation of a family like the Harrington's. She hadn’t quite known the extent they would go to protect it. Policing your child's friends over a matter of image is absurd.

Somehow, Robin can see how Steve grows even tenser at his mom’s words— hackles raising like that on a dog. His knuckles turn white. But before he speaks, Christine is barreling on like she hasn’t just slandered every one of Steve’s new friends.

“And to leave the house in such a state?”

Robin hears her sigh heavily, as though this really is the biggest problem in her life — which she can’t fathom in the slightest.

There was nothing wrong with Steve’s house. No mess beyond the usual evidence that someone, you know, lived there.

“Mom, I—” Steve starts again.

“Well, I’m sure you have your reasons. You always do.” She says it so pointedly, like Steve was known for peddling lies to weasel his way out of trouble.

It’s so un-Steve it makes Robin blink hard, wondering if she had heard right.

Steve was honest. He owned his mistakes and he took things on the chin. It was something she had liked most about him in the beginning.

Back when it was all snark and Robin told herself she was never going to be his friend, in this universe or anything other. That even then, reluctant co-worker and nothing more, Steve was honest and decent to her always.

“Now, come on now.” Christine Harrington huffs out her demand. “Your father is waiting in the car and there no use winding him up more than you already have.”

Robin’s stomach turns at her words. It had been a topic of discussion between them, one night weeks ago, lips loosened by the dark. I feel like a dog to them, Steve had admitted quietly, his breath against her pillow and his warmth under her sheets. Like they just leave alone most of the time but expect me to perk up and come running the moment they call. I hate it.

“I’m not coming with you.”

The words stammer on their way out like he had forced them out— and Robin wants to sing she’s so proud of her best friend.

“Excuse me?”

“I’m not coming with you.” Steve repeats himself, the words a little firmer this time. “I’m… I’m spending the night here, with my friend Robin.”

He trails off, the words weaker, losing steam. Robin rises to her feet, the tell-tale squeak of the couch springs letting Steve know she was still here. Still right behind him.

It makes him stand a little straighter.

“I— I’ll come home in the morning.”

Christine Harrington makes a little scoffing noise, a high pitched faux laugh as if Steve’s said something amusing.

“Tell me when did I raise such an ungrateful brat?” She muses meanly and Robin doesn’t miss the way Steve flinches lightly. “We give you free rein of the house, apt time by yourself, and yet when we request you to spend a single evening with us—”

“You’re not asking, you’re demanding.” Steve cuts in, his voice more heated now.

“Oh hush, Steven. You act as if we’re so awful.”

It’s all dismissal. Everything, every word, a dismissal.

“I just can’t win with you, can I?” Christine sighs again, disappointment dripping from the sound. “Either we’re not here enough or we’re here but you can’t find time to have dinner with your family. Which is it, Steven?”

In the doorway, Steve begins to bristle. Robin really, really wants to slam the door now — if only to stop this conversation that seems to keep cutting deeper and deeper into her best friend.

She steps closer to him, moving as silently as she can, and makes sure to stay out of sight as she places a hand gently on the small of his back.

He’s shaking, she realises.

Her heart twists painfully in her chest.

Then, deathly calm, Steve says, “Did you know in 7th grade, I lied and I told everyone in my class that I got appendicitis?”

Robin blinks at the change in subject, the strangeness of Steve’s comment. She does remember that, vaguely. A boy in the year above— it had been a wildfire rumour that had turned out to be true.

Or so she thought. Staring hard at the planes of Steve’s back, the pit in her stomach yawns with an anticipation of devastation. Her hand on his back curls up a bit.

“You and Dad were gone for the whole month to Washington. It was the first time you had ever gone for that long and you didn’t even tell me until the day before you left.”

“Steven—”

“I just wanted someone to worry about me.” He steamrolls on, tone too casual for the story he was telling. “And it worked."

A beat.

"But then Cassie Lange asked about the scar.”

Robin’s hand on Steve's back twists up tighter. She feels like she knows what’s coming— but wishes it to be not true.

She doesn’t want to think of Steve, little twelve year old Steve, doing all that he can for a scrap of attention he was supposed to be getting from his parents.

“And rather than admit I’d lied…” The words come out too tight. “I went and found your sewing scissors and I made one.”

There’s this icy bite to Steve’s voice, his shoulders tensed back up. Christine still hasn’t said anything.

“I hurt like a bitch but it was worth it. I got a card from every single person in my class.”

“You wanna see the scar?” He asks— then he’s moving, his hand rucking up his sweater and shirt and exposing the skin of his stomach. Christine makes a noise like a muffled gasp. Robin feels a bit sick. Steve drops his shirt.

“And I kept all of those cards I got —all 17 of them stashed them under my bed in a box that I still have til this day.” He exhales through his nose. “Because it was proof that, at some point, somebody actually gave a shit about me. Because you didn’t. You didn’t then and you don’t get to now.”

His words hang in the air. There’s a long stretch of silence where Steve stares down the woman on the porch— someone closer to a stranger than a friend.

“So, I will see you at home, tomorrow.”

And then he slams the door to Robin’s house shut with a finality that shakes the air. Robin tenses up at the loud noise. Steve doesn't move, just stays staring at the closed door.

Behind them both, one of the noisy pipes in the house makes a loud noise. It sounds worse than usual as it breaks the silence.

Outside, Robin hears the click of heels on the pavement as they quieten, moving further away.

The pit in her stomach tightens immeasurably, a faint bile taste in her mouth. She finally remembers to smooth out her hand, pressing it flat against Steven’s back— another reminder that she was there.

If he wanted to talk or he didn’t, she was there.

Suddenly Steve sighs, an exhale so large that he shrinks down a couple inches, his shoulders dropping. It sounds exhausted.

He finally turns away from the door, to Robin, and she can only hope her face conveys every ounce of love, of support, she feels within her chest.

“Steve…” She breathes softly.

He wasn’t crying but just the sound of his name, spoken so delicately, seems to inspire tears. Robin catches the tremble of his lip and moves without thought— throwing both her arms around his neck and wrestling him into a hug.

Steve goes easy, his arms snaking around her middle and holding her back so tightly it nearly makes her squeak. She doesn’t though— just lets him bury his face in her neck, taking these big shuddering breaths, these half-formed sobs that break her heart clean in half.

She doesn’t know how long they stand there. Car engines drone as they pass by the street. The streetlights seem to get brighter. Steve presses himself so close to her, as close as he can, and Robin hugs back just as tight. She gives him all the time he needs.

She wonders if there’s an indent of him on her when he finally pulls back — a Steve Harrington shaped outline imprinted on her soul. It feels like there is.

If she could trace it, she thinks, it would be whatever shape love takes.

“Thanks Robbie.” He croaks out. He’s started scrubbing furiously at his face and she can see the wet sheen of tears as he wipes them away.

Robin doesn’t move far, just unwinds her arms a bit and lets them fall back to her sides. There’s an ache between her brows from how long she’s been frowning in concern. Steve looks more disheveled than usual, his usually perfect hair looking flatter — but he looks lighter too, somehow.

“No need to thank me, dingus.” She says, voice soft. She faux punches his chest and then regrets it when his lips don’t even twitch upward. It’s weird to see Steve all undone.

Robin thinks back to that conversation and the callousness of Steve’s mom. Her uncaring tone, the use of his full name like an insult.

She thinks of what Steve had said.

“I’m sorry you felt—” The words get stuck in her throat which grows thicker as she thinks about it. About a self-made scar on Steve’s abdomen, made by a twelve year old boy who just wanted someone to worry.

“—That you felt like you had to do something like that to yourself. I’m sorry no one noticed what you really needed.”

Steve nods slowly, his eyes glazed with a far away look as he stares somewhere over Robin’s shoulder. He gives this little shrug, a little huff through his nose.

“It’s okay.” He says, voice a bit distant. “I mean, it’s not but… even if I hadn’t meant to tell you, I’m glad someone knows now.”

It takes another second before he finally seems to shake himself from his thoughts, turning to properly look at Robin. His eyes are red-rimmed and the tip of his nose is pink. Tell tale signs of tears.

“I’ve never told anyone that before.”

Robin swallows thickly and it takes effort to choke down the urge to cry.

“Well,” She starts. It comes out too high pitched and tight and she clears her throat. “Thank you for telling me.

Some kind of smile plays on Steve’s lips, as if he can tell that she’s fighting off her sniffling and it’s sorta funny to him. It is, a little.

Because instead of being embarrassed or feeling pitied, he feels… delightfully surprised to have her care so much. To be so upset on his behalf.

“Oh, c’mon Robbie,” He gives her that same faux-punch in the shoulder she did earlier and it actually succeeds in making her lips pull up at the edges. “None of that.”

“You’re such a dingus.” Robin says. It comes out a bit wobbly still. Sue her— she doesn’t have Steve’s insane ability to bounce from one emotion to another in a single second.

Steve grins. He wanders back to the couch and flops down onto it. Robin follows and when she sits down, it’s a fraction closer to him this time. He gives one last scrub of his face, wiping the last of his tears away.

She nudges him with her thigh. She has to check just one more time.

“You alright?”

Steve smiles, crooked in that way that lets her know it’s completely sincere. He reaches forward and presses unmute on the remote, the film they’re watching starting up again with a buzz.

Steve presses his thigh back against Robin’s and in the dim lighting of her living room, his eyes glitter with an emotion that threatens to make her want to cry once more.

“Course.” He says. “I got someone checking up on me now,”

Another pointed nudge of his thigh against hers. “I’m better than ever.”

[fear-no-mort]

favourite thing: his new habit of saying uhuh/mhm and also this

[egophiliac]

Did. Did you see Ortho's Broomquet preview? The fact that his broomquet is mostly white like Kalim's, Rook's and Silver's and that we know by now that Idia's ideal dreamworld involved OG!Ortho being still alive and a student at Royal Sword Academy is killing me. Twst is throwing hints left and right that OG!Ortho was meant to be a light magic user heroic character just to tug further at our heartstrings with his death and IT'S WORKING. I'M IN SHAMBLES.

as much as I am rolling around on the ground waiting for more of Silver and Sebek's Excellent Adventure, I am also SO desperate to see the resolution of Idia's dreamworld and, fingers crossed, more of dream!OG!Ortho. and I don't know how it would be physically possible, but I would LOVE the Orthos to actually meet somehow! bonus points if there's some kind of very confusing confrontation!

but I do really like the three-way contrast between OG!Ortho, what Idia thinks OG!Ortho would have been like, and humanoid!Ortho. especially since Ortho's post-episode 6 arc is all about becoming independent and his own person! I want to see more of it! and I can't really put it into words very well, but, like, I would LOVE this to be the resolution where Idia finally manages to come to terms with OG!Ortho's death -- man heard "niichan" once and immediately ran down a billion flights of stairs to throw himself into Metaphorical Hell, he needs something big like this.

(if the September schedule comes out and there's still no more main story, I am going to be DESPONDENT) (I mean I will be understanding because production takes time, no one should be subjected to crunch to meet arbitrary deadlines, a good product that takes longer >>> a rushed product that is out sooner) (but I shall also be despondent)

[whatnor]