#its not even like comic relief its just watching him get bullied like the doctor and rose are high schoolers.

[ot3]

im really normally not ever the type to defend any fictional woman's lameass boyfriend from narrative scorn. but they were way too fucking mean to mickey in doctor who. he didn't deserve all of that shit man.

[notveryglittery]

birthday prince (3)

summary: virgil decides roman deserves a day off.  words: 2,100 / ship: prinxiety (roman/virgil) author’s note: this is part three of my Giving The Gay Anything He Wants series for roman’s birthday (june 4)! all ships are written implied romantic but i’m not stopping you from interpreting it otherwise. check the end notes on ao3 for credit on these gifts (bc i don’t know where to put them in this post)! i hope you enjoy!!

part 1 (roceit) | part 2 (logince) | part 3 (prinxiety) part 4 (royality) | part 5 (dlampts)  read on ao3

— — —

“Best two out of three.”

“I thought this was a birthday gift!”

“Yes and?”

“So why don’t I automatically get to pick the first movie?”

“Because I know you’re on a princess kick and full offense, if I have to deal with a talking animal as the comedic relief sidekick, I might actually die.”

“... Okay. Fine, okay, that’s fair.”

“On shoot.”

One, two, three, shoot — Virgil’s scissors versus Roman’s paper meant that the birthday boy did, in fact, not get to pick the first movie. He feigned upset for only a few moments longer before flopping back into their pillow fort. He supposed, given all the hard work Virgil had put into this, he could put up with one non-princess Disney film.

Earlier in the day, Virgil had rather unceremoniously kicked Roman out of his own room, claiming he had something important to do. Were it not for how close they’d grown, Roman would have been upset and suspicious; he trusted Virgil now, though, and knew that nothing would go wrong. He’d spent an hour playing cards with Logan and Patton before Virgil shouted for him from upstairs. When he’d arrived back to his room, it looked almost unrecognizable. It was mostly illuminated by fairy lights, providing a cozier feel than what he was used to; the floor to ceiling windows looked out into a rainy forest instead of the usual rolling hills; his bed had been turned into a truly impressive collection of blankets, pillows, cushions, and stuffed animals. The canopy had been removed which bothered him a little but only until he realized the projector that had been set up, pointing at the ceiling. There was a basket at the foot of the bed, filled with snacks and bottled drinks. Roman figured they could stay here for the next twenty four hours and be perfectly fine.

Surrounded by what was possibly every soft thing to be found in the Mindscape, Roman clutched Mrs. Fluffybottom to his chest as Virgil got the movie set up. She’d been his favorite plushie for the entirety of his existence; he’d taken her on many adventures over the years but she’d comforted him through a number of breakdowns too. He swore there was actually something magical about her.

Virgil threw himself down next to Roman; he had swapped out his usual hoodie for one that was fully dark purple and had even longer sleeves. After Roman had stopped gawking around his room, Virgil had tossed a sweater at him. It was so bright it was practically neon but it was rainbow print and he loved it. He’d immediately changed out of his t-shirt and had grabbed Virgil in a tight hug. Roman definitely intended on starting a sweater paw fight at some point during their movie marathon.

“You good with Hercules?”

“No comedic relief sidekicks, huh?”

“Phil is not a sidekick!”

“What? Are you trying to tell me right now that Philoctetes is a main character? You can’t say he isn’t comedic relief! He gets hurt just for laughs way too often!”

“No! I mean. Maybe?”

Roman laughed, bumping his shoulder against Virgil’s. “Whatever, you dork. Of course I’m good with it. You could have picked The Black Cauldron and I would’ve been good.”

“Talking animal. Comic relief. Sidekick. Gurgi checks all of those boxes. I would’ve been going against my own word.”

“Hmm, fair,” Roman said, humming a little.

As the Muses began singing them through the opening, Roman took a moment to appreciate everything Virgil was doing for him. The basket of goodies was stocked with every one of Roman’s favorite snacks, including enough chocolate to make him sick. In fact, it’d been the first thing he’d decided on, before Virgil could even tell him what the plan for the day was. Not that it was really much of a plan, anyway. Today specifically had been set aside just for Virgil to spoil Roman however he wanted. That apparently meant marathoning Disney movies, napping as much as they pleased, and eating all the junk food they wanted. It was a far cry from how Roman usually spent his time; what with all of the projects he was constantly juggling, or the content he had to help Thomas produce, or the issues to take care of in the Fantasy Realm. He didn’t really realize even how hard he was always working.

Apparently, however, Virgil had.

Something was shoved into his face, startling him out of his thoughts. He shot a glare at Virgil, who was watching the movie and acting totally inconspicuous. The item turned out to be a stuffed dragon, one he didn’t recognize from his usual pile of plushies. The scales were shimmery, a nice ombre of purple and blue shades, the wings were tucked against the body, and… Holding his hand against the stomach was warmer than the rest, as if it had a belly full of fire. That was so cool! He squeezed it tight in his arms and went back to watching the movie, feeling even comfier than before.

With the credits rolling, Virgil ushered them both out of bed and into a couple minutes of stretching.

“I’m not having you complain to me later on when your bones start creaking.”

“You make it sound like I’m so old, Virgil!”

“Older than me,” Virgil teased. He ducked out of the way of a thrown cushion. “Oh, is that what we’re doing?!”

Roman took a face full of pillow and suddenly it was on. He couldn’t begin to guess how long they fought for, darting around the room and over the bed, swinging their feather-filled weapons at each other. He did know that by the time he collapsed on the floor, he was breathless with laughter. Virgil was so far gone that he’d dissolved into alternating between wheezes and complete silence. Eventually, they did manage to get back into their nest of blankets, though there was plenty of shoving, poking, and tickling as they did so.

“I dunno if I’ll make it through this next movie so pick one that I won’t mind falling asleep during.”

“You besmirch the name of Disney if you think there’s a single film boring enough to allow that!”

“You dozed off the first time we watched The Good Dinosaur.”

Roman spluttered. “I had just come back from a week-long quest! And that’s Pixar!”

Virgil actually cackled. “You can’t pull that excuse! Disney owns Pixar!”

“Stop bullying me,” Roman cried, “it’s my birthday!”

“It’s two days before your birthday, actually, so I can bully you all I like.”

“I’m picking The Black Cauldron, then! See how you like dozing off during your favorite movie.”

It perhaps hadn’t been his best choice. With Virgil snuggled into his side, warm and soft, the sound of his even breathing accompanying the utter lack of any songs… Well, Roman really didn’t last much longer. They found each other in the Dreamscape. Edges were fuzzy, sounds were muffled, and touch was electric. The Dream Palace was a blurry shape in the distance, attracting his attention every so often when its crystal spires caught the light. Virgil sort of just appeared, as if created from the colors of the setting sun. Roman had a feeling he was made of the field of flowers he’d woken up in.

“I like it here,” Virgil said, sitting down next to Roman.

“Remy does a nice job with it,” Roman agreed, slowly picking daisies and dandelions to weave into a crown.

“You do, too,” Virgil argued. “You have a hand in almost everything, you know.”

Roman frowned at him. “I do not.”

“Yes, Ro,” Virgil insisted, “you do. The Memory Archives look the way that they do because you and Logan watched one episode of Doctor Who together and had the inspiration to redesign.”

Roman chuckled, a little nervously. “I guess.”

“Memory Lane doesn’t hurt Patton because it knows better than to hurt anyone you love. It might be connected to him and his room, but you’re the one that created that safety net.”

“Virgil…” Roman tried, voice slightly strangled.

“I just need you to know how important you are. You aren’t told enough.”

“It’s fine—”

“You’re important, Roman. You matter. You make a difference.”

Roman finally stopped trying to tie together the stems of the flowers. Virgil took his shaking hands into his own and held them tightly. It was just enough that Roman could actually feel it versus the tingly sensation that the Dreamscape normally worked with.

“We love you. We appreciate you and your hard work.”

If it weren’t for that everything around them was already blurry, Roman might not have noticed his vision swimming when tears filled his eyes. It was hard to not know suddenly that he was crying, though, regardless of how physically present he was in this space.

Virgil let go of his hands and instead, cradled his face gently. “I know I go against you sometimes but in the long run, I want you to be just as happy as you make the rest of us.”

He waited a moment longer before smiling and squishing Roman’s cheeks. Roman giggled a bit in response. Virgil gave him two careful pats before pulling away. Picking up the flower crown Roman had abandoned, he set to work on finishing it. Roman wiped his tears away and sat still in the sunshine, content to simply let himself soak it up until he was completely warm from the inside out.

When they woke, the screen projected onto the ceiling was displaying a screensaver of 3D pipes. The forest outside the windows had been replaced with a cliffside view of the ocean. Virgil stirred next to him, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. He absentmindedly pressed a kiss to Roman’s cheek before getting out of bed. He was gone for a little while, during which Roman found two more plushies that he didn’t recognize. They were a gryphon and a lion, both extremely soft to the touch, and with fierce expressions that reminded Roman of how Virgil looked when he was in fight mode. He wondered how these new stuffed animals kept sneaking into his collection but he certainly wasn’t complaining.

When Virgil returned, Roman burst into laughter, because yes, he supposed there was no chance of sneaking that one into the pile.

“There won’t be any room for me in bed, Virgil!”

“Guess you better get used to sleeping on the floor then,” Virgil said, dropping the massive Simba plushie on top of Roman.

This just made Roman laugh harder. The fabric on this one was fluffier than on the others, something he could sink his fingers into if he wanted. It was nearly as big as him, or maybe it just felt like that right now since it was smothering him. Before he could move it, though, Virgil sank himself down onto it as well.

“Virgil!!” Roman gasped between snickers. “Get off, you fiend!”

“Hmm…” Virgil hummed, pondering. From where he was laying, he could just barely look directly into Roman’s eyes. This made it all the funnier when he finally decided, in the most deadpan tone, “nah.”

After some wrestling, which led to them both falling out of bed and Roman bumping his elbow and howling for five minutes about his funny bone before Virgil kissed it better, they were finally settled back in to continue their movie marathon.

They watched Moana, Tarzan, and, Mary Poppins before sleep began to take them once more. Seeing as the sun had sunk below the sea quite some time ago, it was safe to assume it was late enough to call it a night.

“I got you…” Virgil paused to yawn. “Got you one more thing…”

“Vee—”

“‘S not much.” He held out Mrs. Fluffybottom for Roman to take. “I just… I made it so that she can never be hurt.”

For a moment, Roman’s lethargy was chased away by astonishment and surprise. He could feel the enchantment just from holding her, though it was passing by the second as the magic was fully absorbed.

“I know you… take her on adventures a lot. Fightin’ bad guys ‘n stuff.” Virgil shifted further into the blankets as sleep continued to take hold on him. “Wanna keep her safe. Know you will, anyway. But jus’ in case.”

Roman rolled onto his side so that he was facing Virgil. He kept the bunny plush tucked between them and took one of Virgil’s hands in his. “Thank you…”

“Love you. Happy birthday, princey,” Virgil told him, papping him once more on the cheek.

Sleep settled over them quickly after. Roman would wake in the morning, feeling more secure and warm than he had in quite some time, surrounded by plushies and Virgil’s arms, and know that he had so much to be grateful for.

[vincent-frankenstein]

The Light and the Dark

Chapter Two: The Power of Shadows

Story Summary:  For seven years, Virgil has known nothing but the Doctor and his lab and his horrible tests. For seven years, Virgil has known nothng but the shadows, ever-creeping, and the darkness, all-consuming. But then one day a man carrying fire in his hands and in the brave tilt of his smile breaks down his door and offers him freedom, and everything changes forever.

Pairings: eventual moxiety and logince

Chapter One / read on AO3

Taglist: @aliferous-ly @walrus-flail @fandoms-n-ship

Virgil was nine when the shadows first came for him.

He remembered the moment as clearly as if it had been yesterday, even though many years had passed since that day. He remembered the strange, musty smell of the attic as he sat in the corner, hidden behind a tall pile of boxes and illuminated by the dusk-light spilling in through the high window. The moment had seemed almost ethereal, then; dust floating like fairy-dust between the dying sunbeams, scattering with every shaky breath he let out, and the silence that made him feel as though time had left him, if only for a little while.

It wasn’t the first time he’d hidden up in the attic, from his parents or from bullies or even from his own thoughts. It was a quiet place, where no one could find him, where he could find himself. He loved it.

This story begins with a little boy, barely even nine, his hair in his face and his cheeks shining with tears. It begins with a child, his chest full to bursting with wracking sobs, sobbing into his shirt sleeves, his knees drawn tightly to his chest. It begins with a wish, to escape the world and its cruel pain, and shadows, deep and dark and curling like smoke.

He hadn’t noticed it then, too involved in cursing Timmy Williams and his band of bullies to the wind between each shaking sob — but there was a strange tugging in his stomach, and a sharp tingling in his fingers, almost as though they’d fallen asleep. Right then, Virgil Sanders wished for a friend; for someone’s shoulder to cry into and someone’s arms to hide in.

And the shadows had provided.

You can imagine his surprise when he’d felt something almost hand-like curling around his shoulder, rubbing comforting circles across his back. For a moment, he forgot how to breathe, opening his eyes to find something draped across his shoulders, a blanket of swirling black smoke.

His scream shook dust from the rafters as he shot backward, his eyes wide and his heart pounding. The shadows melted back to the floor. The tingling in his fingers faded away. And he ran, fear chasing his every step, swiping tears from his cheeks as he bounded down the ladder.

He promised to never return to the ‘haunted’ attic, but he was back within a week, armed with a rolled-up stack of comics, a child’s stubborn curiosity, and his mother’s reassurances, held tightly in his mind. “Ghosts don’t exist, Virgil,” she had said in a voice that left no room for arguments. Virgil only hoped she was right.

The attic was dark save for the tiny bit of sunset-light filtering in through the window. Shadows surrounded him on all sides. Virgil tried to ignore the way his throat closed up with fear, his fingers curling tightly around his comic books. “Ghosts don’t exist,” he said, but his voice trembled and shook and betrayed every ounce of fear he was feeling.

His corner was dusty from disuse, bathed in darkness. It had never looked less inviting. Still, Virgil slid into his usual spot, flicked on the lamp beside him, and drew his knees up to his chest, unable to turn back now. He needed to know if what he’d seen was real.

Gently, he set the comic books down on the floor beside him, sending clouds of dust scattering through the air. He rubbed his nose to keep from sneezing, glancing around the dark attic with wide, curious eyes.

Nothing.

It was a strange thing, to feel both relieved and disappointed at the same time. Virgil bit his lip, leaning against the rough wooden wall with a soft sigh. Had he imagined it? It didn’t seem possible. It had felt so real.

“Hello?” His voice sounded impossibly loud against the dusty silence of the attic, and he cringed. Shame curled tightly in the pit of his stomach. Was he really trying to talk to his hallucinations? That’s all they were, after all: just the sick hallucinations of a sad, lonely child.

He curled deeper into himself, feeling his face grow warm. He watched a tiny spider scuttle past his comic books, his vision blurring with warm tears.

And then this time, he noticed it: the strong tugging in the pit of his stomach, housed somewhere between shame and sadness. It was akin to the feeling of falling, and Virgil did not like it. He sat up straighter, wiping unwanted tears from his red cheeks and grimacing.

His fingers began to tingle, a tiny, subtle tickling. He flexed them, biting the inside of his cheek nervously. Maybe the dust up there was finally getting to him? Mom was always warning him about allergies, maybe —

He gasped, his train of thought coming to a screeching halt. Complete silence fell over the attic, and time seemed to freeze, as Virgil stared at the thing. It had risen from the darkness cast by old furniture; a big, shapeless thing, shifting in midair like smoke.

Virgil stared. He felt a scream growing in his chest, fighting to escape, and the urge to run away and never look back. There were loud alarm bells going off in his head. He shoved it all away. He couldn’t run away!

Cautiously, he leaned forward, and the shadow mirrored his movements, forming an almost-human-like shape, if humans had blobs for heads and long tendrils for arms. Discomfort lodged in the pit of Virgil’s stomach.

“What are you?” Virgil asked, his voice coming out a dazed whisper. He balled his hand into a tight fist, digging his fingernails sharply into his palm, and the pain startled him into clarity. He breathed a sigh of what felt like relief but could have easily been fear. He wasn’t dreaming.

The thing didn’t answer. It just… sat there. Virgil’s eyebrows furrowed. Why wasn’t it moving like last time?

Not a moment passed since the thought crossed Virgil’s mind before the thing began moving, shifting towards him. He let out a squeak of surprise, shrinking back against the wall and holding out his hands like a shield.

“Stop!”

It did. It stood stock-still, staring at him facelessly as though waiting for the next command. Virgil blinked, confused. Why was it following his orders?

“Um…” He thought for a moment. “…do a… dance…” he commanded hesitantly.

The shadow began to wiggle, moving like smoke in the wind. Virgil stared, open-mouthed. He’d forgotten how to breathe, sometime in the last few minutes. Was he… controlling it?

Out of the corner of his eyes, he caught a glimpse of his comic books, laid out across the floor. He shifted his page from the strange creature to the pages for a moment, his eyes scanning across colorful pictures of valiant superheroes and their brilliant superpowers.

What if…?

He shook his head, looking back at the creature through a curtain of brown bangs. He glanced down at his own hands, his little fingers curling nervously, and a knot of anxiety grew in his stomach, tying his insides together. The room seemed to sway around him.

He raised one arm, stretching it out towards the ceiling, silently willing the creature to move upwards. There wasn’t even a moment's hesitation; it rose through the air, higher and higher, only stopping when it bumped against the ceiling, shaking dust loose from the rafters. Panic grew in his chest, clogging his throat.

He couldn’t be a superhero! He didn’t wanna save the world, or fight bad guys — he couldn’t handle that much responsibility! He wasn’t a hero, he was just Virgil, he was just a little kid, and he didn’t want this, oh god —

He whimpered, shrinking into himself and wrapping his arms tightly around his shaking frame. The shadow returned to the floor and stayed there, staring at him facelessly. The tugging sensation in Virgil’s stomach had become almost unbearable.

“What are you?” he asked again, his voice a scared whisper, his eyes rimmed with red. “What… what am I?”

There was no response.

A blossom of anger bloomed within Virgil, red-hot, and he clenched his hands into fists. He didn’t want this! He was already different enough, he was already made fun of enough! He didn’t want to be special!

“Go away,” he breathed, his voice breaking, and the creature disappeared into thin air, taking the terrible tugging feeling with it. Virgil flexed his fingers as the tingling faded away, breathing out a sigh of relief.

Could that have been the end of it? He hoped so. He wanted nothing more than to pretend this had never happened, to ignore this brief moment of strangeness and go back to his okay life. The anxious knot in his guts began to untie, and he leaned against the wall, taking a deep breath.

If only it could have been that easy.

The thing is, there are lots of shadows in this world, and when you’re a little boy who has just realized they can hear you, that becomes a terrifying thing. They were everywhere — at school, swirling behind him, just corporeal enough to make him sick from the horrible tugging, and at home, appearing just in the corners of his eyes, just enough to make him terrified that his parents would see. They followed every order he gave, every which he could possibly make, except for one.

They wouldn’t leave him alone.

[funkymeihem-fiction]

The A-Mei-Zing Outback Adventure (Chapter 23-FINAL CHAPTER)

(This is the final chapter of my first Meihem story! And I thank you all so much for reading and following along. This may be the conclusion to their Outback adventures...but it’s not the end of the MEIHEM!

If you want, head on over to my new sequel to this story:

Hot Headed, Cold Hearted

http://archiveofourown.org/works/11796141

Thank you again!)

Their recovery had not been easy. Her insides had turned red and black and rebelled against her own body, the remainder of her hair had fallen from her scalp, her first attempts to eat real food had resulted in immediate and violent expulsion, and there had been nights of pain where there was no relief until she begged Angela to put her under, better to lose herself in sleep yet again than suffer any more. Junkrat and Roadhog never made any such requests, and endured the treatments with the same angry muttering and resigned stoicism with which they had faced other equally unpleasant things. Dr. Ziegler oversaw their medical recuperation with a keen eye, guiding them through their healing with the help of Ana and Lucio (Zenyatta’s offers of meditation and renewal arts had been swiftly and viciously denied) while Mei filled out pile after pile of paperwork explaining every minute detail of what had happened during their disastrous expedition into the wastes of Australia; often with Junkrat chiming in to not to forget to include some of the more ‘juicy bits’…though Mei wisely decided to leave most of his more scandalous suggestions out.

Winston and Bastion came with yet more paperwork (although this was a great deal more fun to fill out) about possible scientific excursions in the future, and her gorilla friend seemed both sincere and eager to possibly get out of the lab for a while himself, although he hoped it would go a little more smoothly than the mission to the Outback. Bastion had marked several dot locations on the world map, but merely tilted its head when asked what they were and simply pointed to them again, while Junkrat whispered suspicion and threats in the background at its strange behavior. And after that, they had a steady stream of visitors simply coming to see them; from Ana and Roadhog’s knitting club, Lucio and D.Va stopping by to play video games with Junkrat, and when Zarya had returned from a mission abroad, she had nearly crushed Mei in one of her all-encompassing bear hugs and had visited every day after that; with books, stories, and a Russian stew that she swore would make Mei feel better in no time.

Even Torbjorn had dropped by, though it was merely to drop off the newly repaired Snowball. He had painstakingly worked his way through and around Junkrat’s makeshift ‘repairs’, though even he seemed baffled by how it was functioning at all. The little drone’s AI had been transferred into a sparkling new blue hull, and its pixel eyes no longer sputtered or went randomly dead, and it no longer sounded like a flatulent oldworld modem when it beeped hello to her. Mei had been overjoyed to see it back to its old self, and it hovered over to nudge and hug into her arms…before promptly turning around and starting to flash more Mandarin curse words across its screen, aimed at Junkrat. She had been giggling too hard to really scold it as the two started fighting across the room again, and decided to leave her companions as their imperfect selves.

And they had been interviewed numerous times as they lay in their beds. Even Roadhog had been pressed for as much information as possible, though the old junker rarely offered more than his usual grunt or a shake of the head. When the dreaded questions came about Junkrat’s and Mei’s ‘relationship’, as they professionally called it, to Mei’s relief it amounted to little more than a few awkward inquiries as to their mutual consent. Winston never mentioned any more accusations of Stockholm Syndrome, and instead spent most of that interview cringing and trying to avoid any more of Junkrat’s winking and bragging about his self-proclaimed ‘irresistible animal attraction, sheer virility and amazing sexual prowess, an absolute vision in the nuddy, and hey are you writing all this down?’ while she hid her face in both hands and wished that the radiation had killed her to spare her the embarrassment.

But that had been months ago. Things were starting to get back to normal.

Her hair was starting to grow back in now, and Symmetra had kindly trimmed it into a feminine bob for her so she no longer looked like a shaggy mess. The color had returned to her face, her lungs no longer hurt when she breathed, and she had regained some of the weight she’d lost during her months of ice and fire in the desert. She was beginning to look and feel like herself again, and now she could smile when she brought up the eco-monitor program, watching the red blobs of the radioactive storms roll across the wastes. And though Overwatch couldn’t publicly take credit for her work and she had to remain a mysterious benefactor, Winston had let her know that the early warning systems she’d programmed were now a mainstay in the lives of the Outback’s inhabitants and was already saving lives.

She had helped. Despite everything, she had helped. She still couldn’t say if it had all been worth it. There was still something small and poisonous and black lurking somewhere in her, something even Mercy’s medicine couldn’t fix, something that made her angry and hurt every time she started really thinking of things…What a cost she’d paid…

But it was over, and she had helped.

***

The sweet breeze of the ocean air of Gibraltar felt cool against her face and ruffled the ends of her hair against her cheeks, bringing some small relief from the hot sun. She sat on one of the far rooftops by one of the communications tower, listening to the crash of the waves and the shrieking gulls as she scribbled in one of her personal notebooks.

“Tried to read your diary there one time, ya know. Your lil’ journal thing?” Junkrat was laying stretched out on a towel a small distance away, his mechanical limbs discarded nearby and a comically large set of sunglasses on his nose as he lay basking in the sun. Like Mei, he had recovered and was looking his old self again. His own hair had grown out at a record pace, even over most of his bald spots, and his eyebrows were as mysteriously bushy and healthy as ever, as if they had grown back overnight.

“Oh?” She looked up from her writing, glancing over.

“Real smart of you to encrypt it all in Chinese, love, real smart.”

She smirked and went back to scribbling. “Do you want me to write some in English for the next time you decide to spy on me?”

“Sounds great. Be a doll?” That familiar toothy grin spread across his face, tucking the stump of his arm under his head. “Mostly I just wanted to see if you ever wrote about me. You know, silent yearning from afar, who’s that mysterious man, maybe a kinda sexy intrigue? That sorta thing.”

“Well, I can assure you that that was really not what I was writing about you back then…It was probably best you couldn’t read it,” she admitted.

“Owch, darl.”

“Sorry! I mean, it wasn’t anything terrible, just…not the nicest, either,” said quickly. “But I’ve written more about you since then!”

He leaned up slightly, adjusting his sunglasses with suddenly renewed interest. “Is it real good?”

She smiled demurely, looking away. “It might be good. It’s a shame you can’t read any Chinese...”

“Owch again! That’s ice cold! C’mere, you.” He waved his good arm as she scooted a little closer, pulling her in. “I know that look. Somethin’ bothering you? Is it the pills? Is it your hair? I like it short, looks real nice on you.”

She shook her head, laying down beside him with a little nudge to make room. “Nothing. It’s just hot out.”

“Pft, this ain’t hot. Still, you wanna go in?”

Another shake of her head, closing her eyes against the sun. “It just reminds me of being back in that little house again, back in the desert. For a while there I kept thinking I would wake up and be back in that shack. It’s just like when I would wake up and think I was back in…back when it was cold instead of hot. Jamison, are you…Are you glad we came back?”

“Of course I am! They saved ya!”

“But…are you glad? That we’re back here? I’m sorry, I don’t even know why I’m asking…”

His gaze turned a little wary behind the lenses of his goofy glasses, his bushy brows furrowing slightly. He was silent for a long moment, shifting restlessly atop the towel, before replying with a low “Well, that’s a bonzer of a question, ain’t it? Arright look, I know you ain’t actually asking me, you’re asking you. But! For what it’s worth, my answer is…’I don’t know’. You got no idea how much this place pisses me off, most of the time. But, it ain’t all bad. Got my own place, food whenever I want it, getting paid by a monkey to blow things up, and they got the doctorin’ facilities that saved my most favorite lady in the world…and then I got fucking bullied into the doctoring stuff too, might I add.”

“Oh, that wasn’t bullying!” She protested half-heartedly. “And I’m glad I did. I’m glad you’re better.”

“See! Then there’s something to be glad about! Yours truly! And I don’t mind saying that’s a lot to be glad of, you snagging the most handsomest and humblest bloke this side of Oz. Look, you don’t gotta figure out the answers all the time. And you don’t gotta be happy, neither. Sometimes things are shit, but it’s better than being attacked by bees, ya know? Dunno if I’m glad to be back. Just glad you’re here, wherever. And if you go trying to find whatever you’re trying to find, I’ll go with ya.”

There he was again, cutting through to the heart of the matter she could only ever dance around, blunt as always. He could blast a path of destruction wherever he went, and this was no different. No matter how many walls she put up, he was one of the only ones who could tear them down just as quickly. Sometimes it irked her, and sometimes it was exactly what she needed most, even if she couldn’t come out and say it. It hadn’t been the desert that had broken through her ice. Not really. It had been him. She’d been cold before, for so long, and it still felt like his body heat was burning even warmer than the sun above them. She could feel it against her cheek as she pulled in closer to his side, running her fingers up his side and feeling the sharp angles of his jutting ribs. “You’re awfully philosophical, you know. And maybe romantic. In an extremely odd way. I never would have guessed it before.”

His grin returned, leaning to press his nose to hers smugly. “Heh! S’truth!”

She had felt trapped here before, would probably feel trapped here again if she stayed too long…but it was nice, in its own way. It was a place at least worth returning to. How could she be too sad when the sun was shining, the birds were calling, and the sea was lapping gently so close by, and with her strangely charming companion smiling at her like that? Maybe it wasn’t ever going to be her idea of home, but maybe she’d been too hard on it.

Maybe she’d been too hard on a lot of things.

She was distracted by a pair of lips on her jaw and neck, starting to creep downward, and she squirmed as he started to roll on top of her, pressing both hands to his bare chest to keep him at bay. “Jamie?”

“Too much thinkin’! Live in the now! Give your brain a rest, lovey. Lemme help get your mind off your troubles, eh? We got a good thing going here, and I’m gonna enjoy every second of it. And I plan to make you enjoy it too, multiple times, kinda like last night…How bout I wind you up until you’re ready to explode? Lemme show you one of my newest and most favorite specialties…”

“Lewd!” she gasped, even as she leaned her head back to give his lips more access to her throat.

His hand was just starting to slide down her side when both their communicators went off at the same time. Her shoulders slumped a little in disappointment and Junkrat cursed loudly, but moved off her so she could roll upright, struggling to get her hair in order. She still wasn’t used to it being so short, but at least he said he’d liked it this way? Clearing her throat, she activated her comm, seeing the icons of other agents lighting up one after the other. “Zhou Mei-Ling and Jamison Fawkes present.”

Winston’s gruff voice piped up on the other end. “We’ve just had call go out that Talon has made another advance into Oasis. I want following agents; Pharah, McCree, Genji, Mercy, Mei, Junkrat and Roadhog, Symmetra, and Zenyatta to mobilize immediately. You have an hour before the Orca is fueled and stocked, get ready to move. Over.”

Mei groaned audibly as she clicked her affirmative response. “Another desert? I was hoping for something a little more…snowy? I’m going to get another awful sunburn on top of my other sunburns, I just know it.”

Junkrat snorted, strapping his prosthetic into place on the stump of his thigh. “Well, don’t be too hasty about the snow thing, lovey. But ugh, sending us into the middle of posh bot central? S’the only place worse than Numbani. Makes me sick.”

She thought for a moment, then pressed herself to his back and wrapped both arms around his narrow shoulders as he started to pull on his arm. “I guess it beats sitting around here wasting away in bed, or getting attacked by bees?”

He pulled off his sunglasses, his scowl soon replaced by his usual toothy smile as he rested his head against hers. “Now you’re getting the hang of things! Guess I might even be more careful this time, can’t stand the thought of another minute in that fuckin’ hospital ward again. “

“Good,” she leaned to press a kiss to his cheek before pulling herself upright. “I want you to take care of yourself out there. Although it’ll be nice to get back in the field again. I’ve had lots of time to make adjustments to my endothermic blaster, now my icicles are sharper than ever. Time to show those Talon agents what we’re really made of!”

“Oh yeah, those blokes are in for it. You chill ‘em, I’ll kill ‘em, heh, get it? Oh, I’m liking this side of you…After we’re done with all that, might have to get you in one of them fancy-arse Oasis hotel rooms and wind you up, just like I said before.” His lanky body also heaved upward to stand, his height looming over her as he spotted a familiar, similarly giant figure slowly making its way across the field towards them. “Oi, there’s Roadie! Guess I’d better go start double-checking the frags and getting everything ready to move out…” He hesitated, seeing her pause again and look out over the ocean, although he couldn’t see what was in her eyes this time. But when he took her hand, she readily looked back to him. “If you need me out there, I’ll be right beside ya.”

She nodded slowly, and her smile returned. “I know.”

“And if you get pinned down in the field, just give me or Roadie a shout and we’ll be right there. From now on, I’m the only one allowed to pin you down!”

“Ugh, really?” She elbowed him lightly in the arm, and he elbowed her right back. “…You ready?”

Pulling her forward, he let her take the lead into their next mission. “Let’s go!”

[recentanimenews]

Even In The World Of My Hero Academia, Being A Parent Is Still The Hardest Job

  Raising a child is hard work. Not only do you need to keep them alive and healthy but you need to foster their personal and emotional growth to help them to become kind and gentle people. That's why they say it takes a village ... But what do you do if that village happens to be populated with evil supervillains?

  Not only do the parents of My Hero Academia need to navigate the typical pitfalls of raising children and teenagers, they have to do it with superpowered children who could throw a magical hissy fit akin to Stranger Things' Eleven at any given time. And that's if things are going relatively well. Make enough mistakes and your ward ends up leading the League of Villains. Here's how some of the My Hero parents have fared so far.

  Izuku Midoriya

    First off, let's give a big round of applause for the best freaking parent on the show, the amazing Inko Midoriya. Inko has been nothing but supportive of her son, even if some of her choices may not appear so at first. She did doubt his safety attending UA, but what parent wouldn't after the school has been repeatedly attacked and children were kidnapped? It would be weirder if she hadn't had a problem with Izuku continuing his studies there. But obviously, Inko's -- and Izuku's -- defining moment was learning he would never have a quirk of his own. Izuku felt neglected by Inko's response -- he needed her to lie to him. But that's just the thing: what he was looking for, for all intents and purposes, was a lie.

  The vast, vast majority of the population at this point has a quirk. Izuku is way late in developing one and Inko literally just had a doctor tell her that her son would never have one of his own and gave her physical, medical proof of that in the x-rays of his feet. Midoriya might have thought he needed his mom to give him a false sense of hope, but for all she knew, this was his reality. And without All Might, she would have been 100 percent correct. She was sparing him a harsh awakening when he finally had to face that reality by being upfront with him from the beginning. Which is honestly the better (and much more difficult) move as a parent.

  Katsuki Bakugo

    Speaking of parents being totally cool with their children remaining at UA in spite of all the attacks, Mitsuki Bakugo has zero qualms about Katsuki's attendance. But that doesn't make her wrong or any less of a parent. Each child's circumstances are different, and Mitsuki is absolutely right in her stance.

  To be quite frank, Kachan started out as quite the jerk. He was a bully and literally encouraged Deku to commit suicide at one point. Mitsuki recognizes that the teachers see her son for who he really is -- or at the very least, who he could be. Because of his time in UA, he now has friends! He's starting to kinda sorta have a begrudging respect for Midoriya! He's learning he's not always the best at what he does. She might not have tamed him through her own parenting -- he very obviously gets his fiery nature from her, in fact -- but she can see that UA is helping him to mature and develop and she doesn't want to take that away from him.

  Shoto Todoroki

    So, those are clear examples of My Hero parents doing their best. But not even bona fide heroes are guaranteed to be great parents. And that's definitely the case of Enji Todoroki, who is a terrible, terrible father. His son Shoto is very clearly struggling with his mother's mental illness and his father's abusive and demanding ways. He has shut down and closed himself off from peers, teachers, and even himself. He literally hates an entire half of himself. He also seems to have some repressed memories going on, or at the very least, was too young to understand everything that was happening in his family life and has had warped memories as a result.

  At the moment, Shoto is working hard to retain a sense of humanity and not to become wrapped up in his father's overly competitive nature. But now that All Might is out of the way and his father has become the number one hero by default, Shoto's future (and sense of self-worth) could be at the greatest risk it's ever been. 

  Tenya Iida

    For Tenya Iida, it's not just his parents who have forged his path and identity, it's his entire family history. Iida comes from a long line of heroes, and heroes are well-respected and admired in their field. His own brother runs a very prominent hero agency at the start of the series. It's that prolific family history that likely spurred Iida's brother to become Ingenium, and its definitely what spurs Tenya to live up to that example. He feels he has to carry on his family's name.

  While Iida's obsession with perfectionism and his uptight demeanor seem like comic relief, Iida is absolutely driven to this by the pressure he feels to make his family proud. To be fair to his family, there is no evidence that they push these standards onto their children -- this seems to be Tenya's own doing. But he has some huge shoes to fill either way.

  Ochaco Uraraka

    Everything we know about Uraraka's family actually suggests they are kind, understanding, warm, and patient with their daughter. They are willing to sacrifice their time, health, and money to improve her chances in life. And yet, Ochaco also feels immense pressure to become a successful hero. She feels heavy guilt and gratitude while watching them work so hard to provide for her and is desperate to return the favor.

  While these feelings do push Ochaco to work hard and contribute to the pressures she feels, they have also proven to be beneficial to her. Ochaco's goals have driven her to come out of her shell, to see herself as capable of both supportive and more action-based missions. She has found a renewed sense of confidence in herself through her desire to be of service to her family.

  By and large, it seems that most of the parents of the main My Hero cast are doing their best in extremely unique circumstances (with the exception of Endeavor, who, again, is terrible.) Maybe that's part of why Class 1A is so great! It will be interesting to see how the kids use these lessons as they continue to grow closer to their peers and teachers in the coming years.

  Who is your favorite My Hero parent and why? Let us know in the comments!

    ---------------------------

  Carolyn Burke also writes for Bunny Ears and Cracked. Follow her on Twitter and Instagram.

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