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moonieandi · 1 month

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snapshots pt. 4 | stanley pines x f!reader

summary: you and stanley unknowingly go on a date

warnings (TW): swearing, illusions of past abuse, alcohol consumption

tags: fluff, early relationship described, pining, slight angst, affection

notes: thank you all for the engagement! hope you enjoy <3

edit 8/27/24: hello! below i have linked an up to date masterlist of all the parts of this continuing series- hope you enjoy <3

word count: 3.9k

| masterlist | part v |

He had somehow managed to drag her out of the basement that day.

Of course, he had been down there assisting her in any way he could. A high school dropout only knows so much about mechanical engineering and quantum physics. Still, she seemed happy enough to dance around the chalkboard she (he) had dragged downstairs, bouncing off ideas with him contently listening, trying to piece back together complex wiring to get the ominous inverted triangle on the basement wall to whirl back to life.

She was even more spurred on when he actually engaged, not that he raised his hand like he was back in class (not that he ever remembered doing so when he was in class). She simply seemed grateful that he was attempting to learn anything to help her. To learn how to move this whole fucking thing along.

She dragged him to the basement quite often now that the shack was half shut down for the winter. He had managed to see a few rounds of locals and tourists through the Murder Hut from early October until Thanksgiving when snow began to fall. Then tourists dried up, and only the locals frequented now, so Stan reduced his hours and gave some more of his time to helping her downstairs during the day.

Every night was spent downstairs in the basement though, there hadn’t come a day since she stepped through that front door that they both didn’t wander down to the portal. Of course, this was usually then followed by convening upstairs in front of the T.V., Stanford’s journal passed between the two of them.

She had grown more frustrated as of late, raving about alien material and compatibility with human electronics. He did his best to understand, and he followed along very aptly. Always wanting to be an attentive sounding board, and even bouncing his own, albeit stupid, ideas.

Not that she ever made any indication of them being stupid, and not that she would ever stop him from voicing them.

Educationally, he felt it was the closest he’d ever gotten to an actual education. Said education being advanced quantum mechanics, but everyone had to start somewhere.

But now they were out for dinner because, after yesterday’s long night of pacing and chalkboard rants, he thought they deserved to go out on the meager earnings of yesterday’s Murder Hut tour.

That and it had been exactly a year since he first laid eyes on her. Not that he was gonna tell her that.

He could acknowledge that she may have noticed the amount of time that had past, hence her growing irritation with the lack of progress in getting Stanford back, and her growing hours spent in the dark of the basement. But she more than likely didn’t know of the significance of the exact date, or care, which he figured may be more likely. Especially with the anniversary of Ford’s disappearance having come and gone.

December had been hard for the both of them really, and some things had settled somewhat awkwardly between them from the previous week.

They both handled the anniversary slightly differently, her with general avoidance, head somehow buried deeper in that god-forsaken journal. He found some semblance of self-soothing in diving head first into holding a conversation with any customer that walked through the front door of the Murder Hut that day.

Sitting across from each other at the dinner table was hard that night, and for the first time ever, she poured copious amounts of wine into their mugs on a weeknight. The kitchen had been eerily quiet that night, the silence only broken by scrapes of plates and mumbled conversation.

He remembers being disgusted with his hands that evening. Remembers thinking about how he had shoved his brother away that day, how Ford had stumbled from one end of the room into the other just to disappear before his eyes. How his hands had reached for Stanford, calling for him. How the journal made its way back to his hands, but his brother hadn’t. His hand had been constantly grazing his shoulder that day, running along the raised scar, a sickening feeling sinking further into him throughout the day.

They had both shuffled around each other that night, and she had not said so much as good morning and goodnight in her mounting grief, it felt like. She had felt bad about how she handled that day but had felt even worse about failing Stan and Ford. She knew of the hope in Stan’s eyes that day when she had trampled in through the door of the shack, knew the relief he felt in her knowledge and presence. But a year had passed, and she could feel nothing but shame when she looked at him. She saw both twins that night while looking over at his hunched figure across the dinner table. She had said goodnight to Stan and Ford that night and had wandered upstairs wondering if she could wash the image from her eyes in the bathroom sink.

They had both returned to normal by Thursday but had grown more determined than ever before. So yeah, Stan figured a night out may be deserved.

She seemed happier now, sitting crisscross from him in the Greasy’s diner booth, elbows on the table as she reached over to draw along the corners of his paper placemat with the crayons she had swiped from some kid on the way in.

Something that made him chuckle for a little too long. He must be a bad influence. He had sticky fingers and she knew it. It now seemed to be a competition between the two of them, who could steal the most random of objects.

Her hand was out, shielding the drawing on his placemat as she switched between the meager 4 colors the shitty diner crayon pack supplied. He nudged her hand aside as she giggled.

“No! My masterpiece! Give me a second you grump.”

“It better be good, Picasso, you’re hoggin all the crayons.”

She handed over the red one, and he elected to reach across to her own paper placemat, beginning to draw his usual comic-book-style figures. One of the figures, oddly enough, began to look like her.

Her face was so close to her drawing she might as well have been kissing the table, when she shot up, smiling at Stan and looking for approval.

“Ta-Da!” She moved her hand, showing a mish-mash of red, blue, green, and purple.

He stared contemplatively, sitting back in his seat humming. In truth, he had no idea what he was looking at, but he would entertain giving an “expert” review.

“Hmmmmm, now the color selection may be controversial to some but I think the blue and the purple over here are just lovely. Truly an emotional piece mhm.” He nodded his head, pointing at the corner of colors.

“You have no idea what it is, do ya?”

“Not a clue Doc.”

She laughed, pointing to the blue and purple figures. “Okay so these are two llamas and they are totally in love. You can tell by the cool rainbow and shooting star I put by them.” She pointed at what he figured was the “rainbow and shooting star” between said “llamas”.

“And they are here in Gravity Falls because I drew a bunch of pine trees behind them!” She pointed to what he supposed was the foreground and the mess of green sprigs she had tried to draw.

He hummed again. “Very moving, very touching Doc.” He moved to wipe a fake tear, sniffling along with his act.

“I ain't much of an artist, am I Stan?” She laughed, finding humor in her lack of skill.

He gasped, fake clutching his pearls, an even faker mean expression on his face. “Don’t say that Doc! This is a masterpiece!”

She smirked. “Okay, then that will be 50 bucks for said masterpiece, pay up!” Hand held out to him she made to grab his placemat.

“Pretty steep price there kid, don’t get ahead of yourself now.” He conceded.

She smiled again. “I knew you thought it was shit.” Shaking her head at him she moved to look at his own drawing. “Now what's this?”

He smacked his hand palm side down on the corner image, a blush on his face. “Nothin’!”

She nudged his hand now, trying to lift his hand finger by finger. “No! I had to show you mine now fess up! What ya drawing?”

His hand clenched the corner of the paper placemat, ripping the picture of her from the corner of it and crumpling it up into his hand.

“Nope!”

“Yup!” She had risen up with her hands on the table, reaching for the corner paper now clutched above him in his fist. “Lemme see! Don’t do this Stan!” She giggled the entire time.

He panicked at her determination, fisting the paper into his mouth.

“Gross Stan!” She laughed. “What the fuck!”

He swallowed the paper, not thinking much of it. Saving himself the embarrassment of having to explain himself. He smiled across from her though, as she cracked up at his over exaggeration.

She looked just right, under the shitty diner lights. Car headlights flashing as they went by from time to time, he began to wonder how long she would stay. If she would linger around, once Ford had returned. Wondered what it was that note said, that she brought in with her that very first day she burst through their front door. She had put it away after that day, and he never really did get to see his brother’s usual cursive gracing the paper. What was it he had said, to get her of all people out here?

She was too good to linger, he figured, and Gravity Falls felt far too small for someone like her anyway. Even if the unknown waited past their doorstep, they both hadn’t made the move to wander into the woods in search of the creatures Ford had spoken about. Something they had both voiced before over dinner, their shared hesitation to walk too far from their doorstep. If it was just himself he reasoned he would have wandered into the woods looking for signs his brother had been there, he wasn’t fearful of the unknown, he had done plenty of other things that were far scarier than what waited in their backyard. But she was here, and he felt some semblance of duty to watch her back in particular. So they had made a pact to not wander off too far from the other, and they had stuck to that deal even when coming into town.

The townsfolk hadn’t seen Stan without her by his side since he trampled into the gas station in search of food that very first week. Surprisingly, not too many townsfolk approached her at all when they were out. If it was because he tended to glare at unknown men, she didn’t comment.

“Order up!”

Susan made her way back over to their booth, her hands full with two separate plates of short-stacks.

“For you Mr. Pines.” Settling one plate in front of Stan, Susan moved to place the other in front of her. “And the other for you Mrs. Pines!”

Brain short-circuiting, he freezes in his motion to grab his fork for his meal. His mouth began to move to correct Susan.

“Thanks!” She said across from him, a panicked look in her eyes. Face creeping up into a flush as she thanked the waitress.

Susan made her way away from the table after exchanging common pleasantries, all the while he sat in suspense.

Only after he could swear Susan was out of earshot did he lean into the table, chest close to his plate to whisper across at her.

“What the fuck was that?”

She looked beyond guilty, ringing her table napkin in her hands as her eyes flickered to every corner of the diner that didn’t contain him.

“I-I may have… accidentally… at some point, perhaps…” She sighs, knowing the drive home will be silent, absent of the usual radio. At least it would be if they couldn’t make it through the mistake she had made all those months ago. “Accidentally, sorta, maybe, kinda, let Susan think that we were married?” Her voice rising in octave, her hands running along the rim of the diner table now.

He sits back, disbelief struck him. How the fuck had she managed that?

She answers his question unknowingly. “Okay, so for your birthday in June, remember how I begged you to come to town?” A nod. “Well, you know how I snuck off to Greasy's to get you some birthday pie?” Another nod, remembering how she had been so happy to have correctly guessed his favorite kind that night. He hadn’t even chastised her about the money she had spent on him.

She continues, hands now flying around, trying to flick the memory away. “Okay well, when I got the pie from Susan she had called my order and she called me Mrs. Pines. And I just…. froze up… and I didn’t know how to explain- well everything.” Her voice picks up speed. “I’m not good at lying, like I can do it, but she just caught me off guard. And we hadn’t discussed what we were gonna tell people- like what we were gonna tell people about us living together? And I thought of Ford and all that bullshit-“ she slumps further into the booth seat.

“And well, ya I just…I just didn’t correct her.”

Staring at him, expectantly now. Perhaps waiting for him to explode on her. But all he can manage to do is unravel his fork from his napkin and dig into his pancakes to finally take a bite. Chewing around it, he finally can ask something. He’s less likely to yell with his mouth full.

But the question dies on his lips. He feels more confused by the second, and then more frustrated also. The silence she figured would follow in the car seems to have raced ahead and sits between them at the table now. Her appetite diminishes by the second, and she no longer waits for some sign from Stan, some indication of acceptance. She didn’t figure there would be, she knew she had fucked up. Or at least, fucked up by not telling him about all this sooner, but she had more or less forgotten in between work and well… enjoying living alongside him. But perhaps the arrangement she had unknowingly shoved him into wasn’t something he was comfortable with, which was understandable. She hadn’t ever really believed herself marriage material, and more or less figured she was even less so in Stan’s eyes.

He knew she wasn’t the best liar, their old conversation concerning his name had rushed back to him. He hadn’t wanted there to be any lies between them, because he knew it would be difficult for her to upkeep them on top of everything else. That and he believed that their arrangement and reliance on one another wouldn’t work in the slightest if they were just spilling bold-faced lies back and forth to each other. But this arrangement she had stumbled headfirst into came as a surprise. Perhaps they should have rehearsed something to say to everyone who asked about them, but then again Susan didn’t really ask, she had just assumed that they were together, were married. He understood her stumbling into something like that, but he was struggling to find a way back out of it. Because he couldn’t allow her to live attached to him like this, didn’t want her to have to lie for their own comfort.

A lingering worry in the back of his mind, concerning his past. What if it all came rushing back? What if someone was out there looking for him? What if they hurt her?

He was far past frustrated, not at her though. At all the scrapping and clawing he had to do just to get here, to wind back up in the comfort of lies to survive. But he didn’t want her scraping by with him through this, he wanted her to live. At least before today, he believed she could leave him behind if it all fell apart under him. Always an escape plan somewhere in the back of his head, a way out, a door to reach in the dead of night. But she had shut it, and he didn’t know how he was gonna get her out of it now.

They finished dinner in silence, something that also rubbed him the wrong way. He was frustrated, and taking it out on her. She folded into an odd shape across from him, now looking dim in the diner light. It only served to frustrate him more.

Susan didn’t comment or come by to further disturb them through dinner, which was odd for the waitress. She liked to talk, and Stan knew that the south half of town would know about their silent dinner by Friday night.

Bill paid, they made their way back to Stan’s car. His coat caught up in her arms, he opened her door and shut it again after she entered the car without so much as a prompt.

He didn’t voice a single word until he made it to his seat, he had been too wound up concerning what she had said. That and he hadn’t wanted anyone else to hear their conversation. To know about the lie she had sown, tying them unknowingly together.

“So you’re tellin’ me that this town has thought that we’ve been a couple, no married, for about six months?” His hands tight against the steering wheel.

“Well no, because it was just Susan. Like, maybe just a few people know?” She reasoned.

He shakes his head, chuckling. That’s not how small towns like Gravity Falls worked. “Nah, she told everyone. People in this town are nosey Doc. Everyone’s gotta know by now.”

He adjusts himself in his seat again, reaching his hand out to the back of her seat, like he always does. She’s swallowed by his red coat, her hand meticulously passing the patch he had put across his right shoulder. Humming to fill the silence. He sighs.

“This is gonna be hard, Doc. I get why ya shrugged off the assumption Susan made, really I do, but that doesn’t change the fact ya didn’t tell me.” His hand rubs his eyes, frustration seeping off of him. How the fuck was he gonna pull this off?

“What do you mean?” She interrupts. “It won’t be that hard Stan, we can manage this, it won’t be too hard.” She shakes her head, trying to smooth over his frustration.

“How am I supposed to convince this whole fucking town you married some sorry-sap like me doll?” He points between them, an intensity to his eyes. “Now this will be the hardest con. Because why the fuck would you have married me, huh?” He shrugs, throwing his hands up.

Looking over his scarred shoulder, feeling regret seep through his bones when he sees her now. Sitting there, his winter coat hung off her shoulders, a look of disbelief on her face. An apology on her tongue, he could almost hear it now.

“Don’t.” He shakes his head. “What’d I tell ya Doc, don’t apologize to me.” He turns back to face her now, still shaking his head.

“No.” Anger blooming on her face. “No, why the fuck would you say that Stan. Why the fuck would you even think that.”

She was fuming, a look crossing her face he had never seen before. He had never seen her this thrown before, and he hadn’t the smallest inkling as to why her anger grew tenfold in the face of his statement.

“Because I ain’t no good and you damn well know it!” Voice raising, hackles rising.

“No!” She shakes her head, fingers fisted into his coat sleeves. “You are good, Stan! I don’t wanna hear that utter bullshit from you, don’t say that to me. I don’t believe it, not for a second.” Shaking her head, refusing to leave his gaze. "You're kind to me, you're considerate to me. You're good to me." She reasoned. But he was only ever really good to her if anything. Only kind in the face of her everything.

He thinks of his parents then, their image mirroring their own, but only for a moment. Arguments in front seats of cars and in front of televisions. How they would bend and snap back to each other, how he figured his father would snap and his mother would lie, to soothe him. She would lie, to see the end of the argument, to soothe frustration and heal hurt. But he figured it had more to do with his father's temper more than anything, more to do with raised voices and raised fists. But she was a terrible liar, his Doc, and he would swear to be less of a terrible grump.

He slumps in his seat, turning glassy eyes ahead of him.

“I just didn’t want you to have to lie for me, hun.” He hadn’t called her that in weeks, a flickering memory of that dream always made him flush at the enderment. But he enjoyed how she melted when he did call her that, so he’d concede his embarrassment for her.

“Stan, we can do this.” She slides closer, into the middle spot of the long bench, reaching her hand to his chin and pulling him into an earnest gaze. “Stan we can do anything, we will do anything, to get your brother home. And if it means lying like this then I'm prepared to do it.” She chuckles, humourlessly. “Especially because I’m the one who got us into this mess.”

She’s beautiful, he thinks, this close. Diner light seeping in through the dashboard window, her eyes looking deeper than he'd ever been allowed to notice. She's even more beautiful, as she giggles across from him, slipping a stolen diner spoon into his hand. Slipping her fingers around the stolen object and his fingers. He chuckles finally, he's a terrible influence. His heart settled into that familiar aching sickness, something he doesn't dismiss as much now. Now that it felt as familiar as her. There was a certain comfort he fell into when it came to the feeling and her now, one that made his heart race.

It wasn’t a mess though, what she had done, but it did solidify what he had to do next.

He had been thinking about it for a while, thinking about what sitting in one spot would bring to his, their, doorstep. Thought of the crimes he had left behind, skipping from state to state. It's what had kept him up late at night during those early summer months. What had made him linger around the door late some of those nights also, what if it all caught up to him? Would she be safe?

No, he figured now. Now that she had intrinsically tied herself to him, she was safest next to him. That she hadn't shut any door, that there was a way out, but only for the old him. So she wouldn’t be leaving, but that old part of him would have to. Protect her, them.

He sighs, ready for the conversation they would have to have. He would have to be more honest about himself, he warmed, kinda like her. But really only with her.

“There's something I gotta do then, hun.” He shuffles, leaning into her warm palm along his cheek. “I gotta die.”

She pales next to him.

#gravity falls #gravity falls fanfiction #gravity falls imagine #stanley pines #stan pines #grunkle stan #stanley pines x reader #stan pines x reader

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starkeysprincess · 3 months

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what would reader do if one of the women rafe used to dom was jealous that she was the only one he had an arrangement with after a while and “warned” her that he was going to get tired of her eventually just like he had with everyone else

nonnie, i like this question & i'm kissing your brain, this is v much yelling soft!dom!rafe to me

rafe had every single woman that he's been with completely obsessed with him, not only because of how good he is in bed but they liked the fact that he was successful, they were simply just using him for sex, in hopes of it becoming a more permanent situation.

you didn't think much of how your arrangement with rafe affected anyone until you stepped into the elevator one night, heading to the upper level of his apartment.

a woman enters the elevator and you give her a small smile. it's quiet between the two for a few seconds before you hear, "you're the one that's been going in and out of rafe's apartment, right?" the woman doesn't hesitate to ask.

your eyebrows furrow, clearly confused as to who the woman is but before you can even respond, the woman cuts you off, "you know, he's just going to get bored of you, right?".

"excuse me?" was all you could say. "look, just trust me when i say that rafe will get bored of you pretty quickly. i'm just trying to warn you" the woman shrugs. "you know, woman to woman" she adds.

"what makes you think that he'll get bored of me?" you scoff, "i was once in the same position as you are in, and look where that left me. i'm not the only one that he got tired of and you surely won't be the last".

as the elevator comes to a halt, stopping on rafe's level, you're quick to get off, the last thing you hear before the doors close on her is, "just take my advice and leave him before he gets bored and leaves you".

as you make your way to his apartment, the entire conversation continues to run through your head and it’s not until his door opens when you’re thoughts dissipate, at least, for a few minutes.

he grins as he greets you but he immediately notices the way you seem to be stuck in your thoughts, making his smile drop, “hey, what’s goin’ on?”. the next few words that leave your mouth end up leaving him shocked, “i think we should end this…whatever this is”.

he takes in a deep breath, “what? what are you talkin’ about?”. anxiousness is practically dripping from your words, your forefingers digging at your thumbs. you chew on your lip, avoiding eye contact with him, “whatever this arrangement is that we have, i wanna end it”.

he was spewing out questions, trying to find an answer, “end it? am I being too rough? did I hurt you last time?”. all you could was shake your head, “no…” there was a pause, “it’s better if we end things now before you get bored of me”.

his face softens, his hands immediately cupping your face, “hey, look at me”, making you look up at him. “call me selfish all you want but i don’t want things to end. I don’t know where this is coming from but I could never get bored of you”.

“i don’t wanna end things because i want you and only you” he whispers, his thumb caressing your cheek. rafe leans down, his face inches away from yours, his lips just merely hovering over yours before pressing against yours.

he pulls away, resting his forehead against yours, “how could i ever get bored of you when you’re always on my mind. every single second of the day, all i think about is you”

tagging: @oceandriveab / @babygorewhore / @xxbimbobunnyxx / @sturnioloshacker / @starkeyisthelastname / @rafecameroninterlude / @thatsthewaythechrissycrumbles / @redhead1180 / @rafeinterlude / @crvptidgf / @drudyslut / @amandabbbbb / @starkeysheart / @flvredcas / @fae-of-prey / @nemesyaaa / @emilysuperswag / @kisses4angel / @eddieslut69 / @rafesthroatbaby / @lilacheavenn / @rafescurtainbangz / @ihe4rttwd / @peterpan-neverfails / @hallecarey1 / @heartsforvin / @hyperfixationgirl / @eternalbuckley / @sabrina-carpenter-stan-account / @native2princess

taglist ⇢︎ masterlist ⇢︎ stargazing (thoughts)

#𝓌𝑜𝓇𝓀𝓈 ༉‧₊˚.#rafe cameron #rafe cameron fluff #rafe cameron angst #rafe cameron x reader #dom!rafe #dom!rafe cameron #dom!rafe x reader #soft!rafe cameron #soft!dom!rafe #soft!dom!rafe cameron #soft!rafe x reader #rafe cameron blurb #obx blurb #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron obx

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zepskies · 1 year

Text

Break Me Down - Part 11

Pairing: Soldier Boy/Ben x Female Reader

Summary: You’re a private investigator by trade, but now you happily sit at a desk — leading a surveillance team at Supe Affairs. After managing to end Homelander in New York, Soldier Boy escapes custody. You are recruited for the manhunt, joining Butcher’s team.

Truly, you joined the S.A. for the right reasons. But after you become his accidental hostage, Soldier Boy will break down every single one of them…

💚 Break Me Down Masterlist

AN: Happy Father's Day and early Juneteenth! In honor of the holiday weekend, here's an early chapter update. 😘

Word Count: 4,000 Tags/Warnings: Violence and peril, angst, hurt/comfort, fluff

Part 11: The Lion’s Den

“Where is she?” Ben asked, once he and Frank were loaded in the car.

Loco and his team had to stay behind as their distraction for escape. If they weren’t slaughtered, they’d be taken into custody.

Ben knew he could’ve wasted all of them, Butcher, his team, the CIA, but the nuclear power in his chest had refused to cooperate…

Anyway, Black Noir hadn’t been there. So it was all the more useless to stick around. The real plan was with you, and he was very surprised that you’d stuck to it…but maybe he shouldn’t have been.

“She was brought to the Tower,” Frank informed him.

Ben smirked. “Good. But pretty fucking stupid of Stan to stick around there when he knew I’d be coming.”

He looked over and noticed Frank’s frown as he drove.

“Unless he’s not at the Tower,” Frank said.

Ben’s smirk fell. Why would that prick take her there if…

“We have to be open to the possibility that his Chief of Security is taking the matter of his daughter into his own hands,” Frank said. “Or she’s improvising.”

Ben frowned.

That didn’t change when they arrived at the Tower, and attempted to use the entrance through the back garage to avoid attention. But it didn’t matter.

The entire squad of Vought security, included what looked like some added muscle (hopped up on what smelled like V24), met them when they reached the lobby of the building. Now that the Seven had been disbanded, there was no pretense of “good guys vs. bad guys.” It was just defense and siege.

And in front of them all was Black Noir.

“There you are,” Ben said, but the other supe didn’t even tilt his head in greeting. He was a still statue, an attack dog given a single mission.

When Noir surged forward, Ben ran to meet him. It was a clash of blade to shield, fist to fist, grappling and reflexes that only Compound V could endow. The match tore through the lobby, then up the large staircase as Ben continued to fight his way up to Stan’s office.

Frank was already on his way up to you, but it would take him time with Vought security crawling all over them. He was good, and temporarily a supe, but he was still just one man.

Meanwhile, Ben and Noir’s fight spilled into the upper floors, through walls and offices and screaming employees trying to get out of their way.

Once they reached near the floor below Stan’s office, Ben got an arm around Black Noir’s neck, and with his free hand tried to unmask him. He wanted to know for sure what lied underneath it, if it was actually the Noir he knew. Or if it was something else entirely.

But Noir twisted with superior reflexes and flipped Ben hard over his shoulder. In the process, he ripped off Ben’s helmet. His brown hair hung over his brows as he pushed to his feet, deliberately taking his time.

When he turned, Noir was standing there with the helmet crunched in his hand. Rolling his neck, Ben prepared to jump back into the fight, but a new sound reached his ears.

He heard you on the floor above. And you were fighting someone…

Ben pressed a finger to the comm in his ear.

“Frank, you got eyes on her?”

V24 had endowed the man with x-ray vision. A moment later, Frank patched through while he struggled and fought.

“She needs help,” he said gravely.

Ben took his hand off the comm, gritting his teeth. Black Noir was still waiting on him, attuned to Ben’s every move as the other supe brandished one of his blades.

Shit, Ben thought. He needed to end this.

Right fucking now.

That resolve helped him take a deep breath, then summon the energy inside him. He focused with the aim of blasting a clean stream of power at Black Noir; not enough to take out the whole building, but enough to take out just him.

His insides felt molten when the power collected, and finally released at his target.

Noir covered himself at the last moment with a piece of fallen debris (a half-crumbled wall), but it only created a small buffer. The force of the blast itself pushed him down the hall and through the side of the building.

Meanwhile, you were holding your own…but you were also getting beat to hell.

You were battered, with blood dribbling down the corner of your mouth from a particularly bad hit.

You were still standing though.

“You’ve gotten soft,” Jon remarked. He’d broken a sweat, had some bruises, and was panting for breath just like you. But he was more in control as he swatted a well-aimed, yet ultimately weak fist as your strength waned. He used his own to smack you down again.

“I gave you time to come around, and this is what you did with it,” he said, shaking his head. “Disappointing.”

When you tried to stand on shaking legs, he kicked you in the dead center of your chest. You felt your ribs crack as you fell back into the glass coffee table.

You gasped for breath, turning onto your side as glass pricked at your back, your sides, your arm. You coughed, wincing at the agony of knife-like pain near your lungs. Blood flecked from your mouth onto your arm, and for a moment, you stared at it in a daze.

But then Jon was above you. You tried to swipe at his face, but he bat your hand away, his brows furrowed angrily. He turned you back onto your back and wrapped a hand around your neck. Your eyes flew wide with panic.

He squeezed with enough pressure that it wouldn’t crush your windpipe, but it was sure to knock you out eventually. You slapped and clawed at his hand, but he only shushed you.

“What you need now is what you’ve always needed. A firm hand,” he said. “But I’m going to help you. I promise, I will.”

The fight drained out of you as it became impossible to breathe, and harder still to block out his words from entering your brain.

But then, the vice around your throat was gone. Oxygen poured back into your lungs as you gasped, then coughed again when your fractured ribs protested.

Your eyelids fluttered open in time to see your father thrown hard into the far wall. You heard the sick crack and breaking of bone as he landed.

Still, you struggled to breathe.

Tears leaked from your eyes when you looked up and found Ben. His helmet was missing, and he wore a furious, steely frown. You opened your mouth, but nothing came out except for more coughing, and more blood.

To your surprise, he tucked his shield on his back and bent down to scoop you up into his arms.

You cringed, uttering an agonized sound when he tried to move you.

Ben hesitated. Looking down at you, some of his anger drained. He made a slower ascent as he straightened to his full height.

And without a word, he carried you out of the room and down the ruined hallway. All the while, you stared at the side of his face. His jaw was still clenched, his brows knitted, his eyes set dead ahead.

You wondered why he had to wait for moments like this to show you who he truly was.

“What are you, some kind of hero?” you managed to quip, offering a small smile.

Ben glanced down at you, and gradually smirked. “Something like that.”

When his foot slipped on a piece of debris, he righted himself quick. But the jerking movement jostled you, eliciting another pained whimper. Your hand gripped at his chest, digging into the grooves of his suit.

“Hold on,” he murmured. His lips briefly pressed to the crown of your head. “We’re getting the fuck outta here.”

Your eyes closed at the tender touch, and a few more tears spilled down your cheeks.

“He…knew,” you managed to say. “Knew I was lying.”

“I know,” said Ben. “I should’ve fucking known better.”

You marveled at that near apology. Your lips trembled as you rested your head against his chest. You just couldn’t help it anymore.

“Was my idea,” you admitted.

“Yeah, well, evidently not all your ideas are aces,” he said.

You could’ve gotten angry, but you saw the way he moved with care, trying not to slip again for your sake. You tried at a smile.

“Guess not,” you said, though you bit your lip at the pain that seemed to radiate through your entire body. Ben seemed to notice.

“Just relax,” he said, a deep rumble. But there was a soothing note to it, you thought. Or maybe, you just liked the sound of his voice.

Then silence fell between the two of you, both comfortable and tense as Ben focused on potential threats in his surroundings.

All the while, you continued to rest your eyes. Instead of your pain, you tried to concentrate on his steady heartbeat beneath your cheek.

“It’s about fucking time,” you eventually heard Ben grouse.

You opened your eyes and were relieved to see Frank exiting the stairwell to meet you and Ben. His face and black tactical gear were splattered with blood, but he looked fine, more or less. His gaze roamed over you with his usual stoicism, but you thought you saw a glint of concern.

“I take it Stan Edgar isn’t here,” said Frank.

“You could fucking say that,” Ben snarked. “Let’s just get the hell out of here.”

“Sir.” Frank saw something ahead, behind you. Ben turned to find Black Noir silently standing in the middle of the hall, with a large, suspicious-looking gun in his hands.

Without taking his eyes off Noir, Ben gestured to Frank. He came up beside you, and Ben passed you into Frank’s arms.

“Get her out of here,” Ben ordered. With a nod, Frank carried you back the way he came, towards the staircase. You tried to peer over his shoulder.

“He shouldn’t face Noir alone,” you said, even though every breath was a challenge with the sharp pain in your chest.

“He’ll meet us after,” Frank told you. But as soon as he started down the stairs, a fresh team of Vought security and police came to meet you.

Meanwhile, Ben stared down the hall at his opponent. Black Noir activated the strange gun, which lit up with a blue energy.

“You can bring out any kind of fancy artillery you want, but it’s not going to stop me from killing you,” Ben taunted.

Noir remained silent, of course, but he aimed the gun and fired. It shot a potent, crystal blue beam of energy that ate through Ben’s shield, and eventually hit him in the chest before he could finish revving up his own power. The blast from the gun, it wasn’t hot.

It was ice cold. So frigid that it extinguished the heat that had been building in his chest, but it wasn’t diffusing his power completely…it just made it even harder to control.

And the resulting backlash was overwhelming.

Ben woke slowly, like wading through molasses. Usually his mind was sharp, even when he woke from a booze-induced coma. Now he felt groggy, and it was hard to focus or even force his body to sit up on the hard cot he was laying on.

Glancing down, he realized he’d been changed out of his suit. He was dressed in a plain gray shirt and matching pants, no shoes. He knew a prison outfit when he saw one, just as he now knew where he was: a white padded cell.

Fuck.

At least it was better than a frigid coffin…but in his mind, not by much.

He slid his legs over and managed to push up onto his feet.

Why’s it so fucking misty in here? he thought, waving his hand through the smokey air. And why was he so tired?

He soon got his answer when he realized who stood at the large window at the front of his cell.

Stan Edgar.

The man himself, dressed in a well-tailored navy suit, was watching him with crossed arms.

“We did hope you would remain on sabbatical,” said Stan. “But I had a feeling you would return, and come directly to us.”

Stan gestured to the large cell. “This was our contingency plan.”

Ben made his way, with difficulty, closer to Stan, who pointed at the air vents above that were pumping in a gas of some kind.

“A light mist of Novichok,” Stan explained. “Enough to keep you docile.”

“And if I’m not?” Ben asked. His voice was edged with grit, and the promise of retribution.

“We can up the dose, put you to sleep indefinitely,” Stan replied. “But you have my attention. What would you like to discuss?”

“The conversation I planned on having was…a little different,” Ben said darkly. “But first, let’s start with what you used to clone Black Noir.”

“I suppose there’s no real harm in telling you,” Stan said. Even his voice was grating on Ben’s ears, the smug prick.

“We kept some of Homelander’s blood as an insurance policy. But, we’ve learned from our mistakes.”

“Right,” Ben scoffed. “How’s that?”

“This Noir is not a carbon copy, but nor is he a megalomaniac. He’s under our control,” Stan said.

“Until he isn’t,” Ben snarked. If he thought about it, that was something you would say. Maybe your penchant for smart-ass remarks had gotten into his head.

“And that new gun?” he asked. “Don’t tell me your little lab rats put that together just for me.”

Stan’s lips made a wry turn.

“It was a breakthrough project. Temporarily destabilizes the energy you generate when you charge up like a Power Puff Girl.” Stan thought for a moment, then inclined his head. “A reference, I realize, which may be lost on you.”

“So what’s the play here?” Ben said. He was getting impatient. “You know, when I break out, things aren’t gonna be pretty.”

Stan didn’t seem bothered by the clear threat.

“In the meantime,” he said, “you won’t be alone.”

Stan stepped back and revealed the cell right across the hall. Through the window, Ben could see you, lying unconscious on a shitty cot in similar gray pajamas. His brows crunched as he narrowed his eyes, trying to peer in closer. You looked like you’d been bandaged up, at least.

“You also managed to put my Chief of Security in Intensive Care, but his daughter should be fine…if a bit worse for wear,” Stan informed him.

Ben glared back, his lips curling. Sloppy of him. He should’ve made sure that bastard was dead.

“That’s cute, considering he’s the demented fuck who beat her to hell,” Ben said.

Stan rose a solitary brow. “And at whose behest did she enter the lion’s den?”

Ben had nothing to say to that.

You woke with a pained groan before your eyes even opened. Your body felt like a walking welt.

Your brain pounded like bongo drums, your chest felt tender with every infinitesimal movement, but you realized that you’d been seen to medically, at least. Your head was bandaged, and you felt that the blood had been wiped from your face and arms.

You looked up and found, with a sigh, that you were indeed in a cell. But you softened when you found Ben through the large glass window, in a cell of his own. He was sitting on his bed, arms crossed, with his back against the wall. His eyes found yours, and his lips twitched.

“Hey, sweetheart.”

He sounded off. Tired, you thought. And you noticed a steady mist being piped into his room.

Shit. Novichok, you surmised with a frown.

“You okay?” you asked.

Ben chuckled a little. “You’re the one who looks like hell.”

“Why, thank you,” you replied wryly.

There was a pitcher and a cup of water on a tray, a small paper cup of what you assumed were painkillers, and an ice pack next to you on the cot.

You hesitated on the pills, but in light of your incredible pain, you had no choice. You took the pills, drank the water, and grabbed the ice pack, pressing it against your sternum. You sat up all the way with a slow gait and a pained groan.

“Go slow,” he warned. “Bet you’re missing that Temp. V right about now.”

You rolled your eyes at him.

“How’d you get caught?” he asked.

That succeeded in dimming your mood. You explained that Frank had been forced to set you on your feet when you were confronted by more security and a police squad.

The man had been a one-man weapon; hopped up on V24 as he was, he managed to fight his way down to the garage, where you slowly, painfully crept down there.

You and Frank had almost reached his car, but you held him back. You were stubborn about waiting on Ben, even considered going back for him.

That was when the shot rang out, hitting Frank point blank in the chest.

Before you could even bend to help him, you were taken, dragged back into the building, and knocked out before you could take your captor’s gun.

You tried in vain to wipe away fresh tears while you retold the story.

Bottom line: Frank’s death was your fault. Though while he frowned in disappointment, Ben didn’t seem to hold it against you.

“Good on ya, Frank,” Ben murmured. “You went down fucking swingin’.”

“What about you? What happened with Black Noir?” you asked after a moment. Sniffling, you met Ben’s eyes.

He eventually told you about the strange gun Vought had commissioned just for him. And the more you listened, the deeper your frown became. It sounded impossible.

“Makes you wonder what else they’ve been cooking up in that lab,” you muttered.

“Other than Noir?” Ben quipped. He told you about that too.

“We can figure this out,” you said. “If nothing else, my team, the CIA, they’re looking for both of us…if for different reasons.”

Ben scoffed at that. “A silver lining there. Make no mistake, we’re getting the fuck out of here. Just…need a minute to think.”

But he was starting to wane. It was taking all his energy to concentrate on your voice, to even keep his eyes open. The steady stream of gas being pumped into his cell made it damn near impossible, and it was frustrating beyond belief.

Because if he fell asleep now, there was no telling when he’d wake up. And fuck if Ben would ever admit to the panic he felt welling up into his chest.

“Aaah, fuck!” he growled, pounding a fist against the wall.

You noticed, biting your lip in concern…until an idea made you smile. It was something you used to do to distract your sister when she was little.

“Why are colds bad criminals?” you asked.

Ben just blinked at you. “What?”

He asked not because he understood what you were doing, but because he was genuinely confused.

“Because they’re easy to catch,” you said, making a drumming motion with your hands. “Buddum-ch.”

Your neighbor just stared back at you, unimpressed.

“Okay, not a fan of that one. Let me see…okay,” you raised a finger. “What does a baby computer call its father?”

Ben’s eyes narrowed, like he couldn’t tell if you were serious.

“Data!” you said, biting your lip at an embarrassed smile. It curved Ben’s lips, but he was stubborn.

“Why was 6 afraid of 7?” you asked.

“Jesus Christ, enough…” he muttered.

“Because 7’s a dick, that’s why,” you said. And your straight face lasted for all of three seconds before you ended up giggling. It hurt your bruised body, but it lightened you to see the reluctant smile tug its way onto Ben’s face.

“All right,” he said at last. He briefly closed his eyes, trying to remember a joke he’d heard Loco tell. “How do you make a pool table laugh?”

You smiled. “How?”

“Tickle its balls,” Ben said. Your answering snort deepened his smile into a smirk.

“Playing bridge is just like sex,” you said. Ben shook his head. His grandmother used to play fucking bridge.

But regardless, he took the bait.

“How’s that?”

“If you don’t have a good partner, you better have a good hand,” you said with a smirk.

Ben made a sound of amusement, though it wasn’t quite a laugh. You traded these back and forth, each trying to make the other crack with progressively dirtier jokes (though you suspected Ben was just trying to disgust you).

You considered yourself the winner when Ben finally chortled a deep, belly laugh that showed his charming smile.

It made you smile in return.

Ben rested a hand on his chest, but when his mirth died down, he realized just how tired he was. Still, he wasn’t ready to let go of this. His connection with you tethered him to reality, even if reality sucked dick right now.

His gaze met yours. “Why don’t you sing something, crooner?”

You bit your lip once again. “Like what?”

Ben’s eyes closed.

“You know the one,” he said. A softer smile graced your lips, though he couldn’t see it.

“You’re getting sentimental in your old age,” you teased. He chuckled.

“Just sing, for fuck’s sake.”

His brows were knitted, like he was trying all he could to stay awake. You took pity on him.

“If I didn’t care, more than words can say…” you began to sing softly. “If I didn’t care…would I feel this way?”

Every extended note was painful, but it was worth it to see his face relax.

Stan Edgar’s lips pursed, and he set down his cell phone on his desk. Victoria was screening his calls.

Disappointing, he thought, but not unexpected. He surveyed the cleanup crew wiping up debris, glass, and blood from the lounge area with a dispassionate gaze.

This was going to take a while.

So after drumming his fingers on the mahogany surface, Stan decided to push up from his desk and head downstairs via the elevator. It took him all the way down to Level 0, the home of one of Vought’s most secure R&D labs.

There his most trusted scientist, Dr. Tonya Baker, was at the helm with her team at work on various projects. Most of which were not sanctioned by the government.

Stan folded his hands behind his back and reached her side, and she set down a beaker filled with a green, buzzing liquid.

“Good afternoon, sir,” she greeted.

“Tonya, you know what I’m about to ask,” he said. She bobbed her head and turned to face him in her rolling desk chair.

“We’re still working on solutions. Without his cooperation, safely extracting Soldier Boy’s DNA is a tricky thing,” she said.

“You don’t say?” Stan said dryly. “What are our options?”

“Well, needles will only break, as you know,” said Dr. Baker. “The scientists in Russia found that only Soldier Boy is strong enough to break his own skin.”

“And I doubt he’ll open a vein for us,” Stan said, “even if we threaten to put him to sleep.”

He didn’t even think leveraging with the girl would aid, more than complicate their goals. While it was something to consider, Stan would rather find the path of least resistance here. Soldier Boy was…volatile at best.

“How much of Homelander’s blood remains?” he asked.

“None,” the doctor replied. “We used the last of it to clone Black Noir. And a hair sample is not enough to create additional subjects…at the very least, a urine sample. Even Dr. Vogelbaum managed that.”

Stan sent her shrewd look. If only he still had Dr. Vogelbaum in his employ. If only the man were still alive.

What a waste of a talented, resourceful man.

“That will be a problem,” Stan said.

“Not necessarily.” Dr. Baker adjusted a monitor screen at her desk. It displayed the feed from Soldier Boy’s cell.

She pointed to the toilet in the corner of the cell. Then she called over one of her assistants.

“Tell Maintenance to cut the water, and then a section of the pipes.”

AN: Okay. 😅 I know I'm gonna get some mixed reviews on this one (Let me know what you thought!).

But despite the teaser, I think you'll enjoy where the story's headed next...

Next Time:

They wheeled in what looked like a large metal casket. You had only seen one of these in pictures, but it had to be a cryochamber.

A doctor in her mid-fifties accompanied them, giving directions on how to safely enter Ben’s cell. Your eyes widened.

“What the hell are you doing?” you shouted.

Panic trilled down your spine as the guards fitted themselves with special suits and gas masks. The doctor turned toward you as the guards led you out of your cell and into the hall.

“You’re being transported,” she informed you.

Keep Reading: PART 12

Soldier Boy Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Series Tag List:

@deans-spinster-witch @this-is-me19 @waynes-multiverse @mrsjenniferwinchester @samanddeaninatrenchcoat @spalady26 @spnwoman @syrma-sensei @wirdbeimaufhebengebunden @muhahaha303 @123passwort

@xoxovienna @katherineann83 @lollag0w0 @globetrotter28 @nancymcl @ashbatz @secretdreamlandmentality @kristophalis @wonderland2022 @emily-winchester @shelh93 @sl33pylilbunny @spoonmynoodle @chernayawidow

@buckybarnes-1917 @asgardprincess97 @sometimes-i-sing @itsyellow @karnellius @kimberleymjw @is-this-a-febreze-commercial @iamsapphine @sanscas @se-fucking-hun @lassie-bird @jessjad @yepimthatperson @fromcaintodean @stoneyggirl2

@spnfamily-j2 @im-a-slut-for-fluff @lacilou @venicesem @mimaria420 @beautiful-life-coded @tearsfortheyouth @agalliasi @chriszgirl92 @kazsrm67

#The Lion's Den #soldier boy #the boys #soldier boy/ben #soldier boy x female reader #soldier boy x reader #soldier boy x you #the boys season 3 #soldier boy/ben x reader #the boys au #enemies to lovers #frenemies to lovers #private investigator!reader #the boys amazon #soldier boy smut #break me down #Part 11 #zepskies writes

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ilikekidsshows · 3 months

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A lot of Marinette stan always said that "she doesn't aware she did something wrong because Cat Noir never tells her" and this statement just feel funny when in Glaciator 2, Tikki told her "how strange it is for him to be out there when nobody akumatized" and when Cat Noir speak about his concern regarding the treatment he get by the start of the episode (the whole trash can thing) she shrug it out BOTH TIMES because she just couldn't be bothered enough when her love life is the only matters.

What's your opinion on this take "Marinette didn't do anything wrong because she didn't know that there was a conflict and she also didn't know that her behavior was hurting Chat Noir. everything is just a misunderstanding, like two cultures colliding because of differences in mindset."

I'm combining these asks, cause the top one basically says what I think of the question in the latter one. Marinette being willfully ignorant is not the same thing as her not knowing, the former is something she actively does and latter is something that happens to her. When it comes to Marinette being unaware of Cat Noir's problems, she actively avoids asking important questions or any follow up questions when she sees something is up, and she shuts down all of Cat Noir's attempts to bridge the gap or be more open. She's been doing this since the early seasons, just look up my "Fae Cat Noir" tag for how Marinette refuses to see Cat Noir as a real human being with emotions. She doesn't "not know", she actively avoids knowing.

Frankly, the wisemen of the groupchat think Marinette is benefiting from the secret identities rule. I agree, because she wouldn't be brushing Cat Noir off half as much if he could show up at her house to complain about being treated like a second stringer while she calls him her partner. And she'd be far more considerate if she had to go to school and look Adrien in the face after implying he's egostitical for hinting that future Bunnix constantly badmouthing him was making him feel bad.

Marinette is part-timing being Cat Noir's friend, and even the part of time she's his friend, she acts like his feelings don't exist. The rest of the time she acts like he as a whole doesn't exist. No, I don't think "she didn't know" is the defense people think it is. Marinette remains willfully ignorant, she chooses not to know, and actively avoids finding anything out. Those are choices and actions, and their consequences should be hers to deal with instead of her getting coddled because she "didn't know," like she was some kind passive victim of circumstances.

#ml salt #ml critical #ml fandom salt #fae cat noir

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the-insomniac-emporium · 7 months

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tale of woe

ARTICULO MORTIS- the moment of death

(Reblogs/comment are appreciated, I read every tag! :3 See under the read-more for an alternate version without the lighting effect, notes on details, as well as a copy of the final sketch)

The constellation is one of the two mentioned during Cassandra's stargazing scene, Ursa Major. The other, Orion the Hunter, was already featured in my previous piece, Stargazer.

Having a 'halo' of red around her head was one of my earliest concept points for this piece, in reference to her cult ending.

In Romeo & Juliet, Juliet's decision to end her life isn't just about her grief over Romeo, it's the knowledge that her only real options are either to die or to be sent off to live as a nun. When so much of her story is already about trying to choose her own fate, to avoid the life that has been planned out for her, it's easier to understand her final decision. Anywho, the real point of this paragraph is that this is why the left side of the piece features a church building.

The circular window in the church has 8 slices, each with a color representing one of the 7 routes, plus a bonus one for Mia. The colors are all eye-dropped from the character sprites, minus Miranda's, which I selected from the piece I did for her.

The three graves on the left are for the Stans. One of them literally says STAN, one is blank, and the last one has the initials R.S. (Rebecca Stan). On the right side we have a grave for the MC, partially since they die in the cult ending, partially because the right side is more symbolic of the play's canon ending, so the MC's grave is really Romeo's grave.

The main color for the curtains was taken from Cassandra's default sprite, specifically her shirt, because why not? Similarly, the color for the boards/stage at the bottom is taken from her pants. Because why not?

technically the flowers in her hand are supposed to be roses, but I realized about halfway through this piece that over the years my simplified way of drawing roses has gradually turned into just drawing tulips. oops. seriously tho, oops. also realized that this one pan I use for cooking, which I always thought was an 8x8 pan, is actually a 9x9 pan. which explains several recurring difficulties with some of my favorite baking recipes. guess I'm just a silly goose

this had so many layers holy fuck. I used the same file for the original pose sketches, as well as a bunch of reference photos, but even with that in mind it's crazy that this had over 70 layers. by the end there's still, like, 20 active ones. each section had a separate layer for the outline + the color, another couple layers for the banner on bottom, one for lighting, and then the constellation was it's own layer.

Final outline sketch:

Version without the lighting effect (which is intended to mimic the way stained glass looks when hit by sunshine):

#j does art #resident lover #resident lover spoilers #cassandra dimitrescu #this. is kind of. technically r&j fan art.#BUT I ONLY DID IT FOR CASSANDRA OKAY

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matrixbearer2024 · 7 days

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"Lean left! Hard right! Hold tightly to her helm, she'll try to drown you just for spite!"

"Heave, ho! 'Til first light! She'll give a fight to all who try to claim 'The Shadow'!"

"None can tame the one the sailors call: 'The Shadow'!"

Cuz I was working on something pretty angsty with this guy and realized how sad the reunion of this AU would technically be have Aeschylus(Max) being a sailor post-weirdmaggedon joining his father and uncle on their sea adventures. The song that this post is referencing is a sea shanty by Sail North; 'Tale of The Shadow'.

As always, more lore below the cut!

Of the triplets, Aeschylus is the oldest. He came out 20 minutes before Alexander and 35 minutes before Athena. He's the one most like his father in terms of mannerism and hubris, this guy was the one I mentioned being Ford's mini-me always seeking him out whenever the old man's not around.

Aeschylus is also the most adventurous of the triplets since he's curious to a fault, again- very much like Sixer. He's also very trigger-happy and often defaults to violence when being civil with the other party is no longer working or worthwhile, no Stan didn't teach him that. It's just something that developed over time as he grew up an emotionally constipated mess.

"Violence is the language we speak when words no longer suffice."

Sometimes it makes sense he was named after a Greek dramatist, even if Ford had to pick the most ODD poet to name his eldest(technically) after-

That is how his hair normally falls(mostly, he has bangs but he swipes them up because he finds them distracting) if he's not busy slicking it back to avoid looking like Ford, there's a reason why he only starts allowing his hair to fall into it's natural state after Bill's defeat and post-Weirdmaggedon. He doesn't stop wearing contacts though since they're just more convenient than glasses, but he does have glasses and carries them on his person in case of emergency.

There are times he hides Ford's glasses when he's just messing with his old man, he and Stan sometimes have a good laugh about Poindexter being blind as a bat.

Also! The biggest reason why I can see him tagging along with the Sea Stans is due to the biggest fact that very much like Ford, once his huge objective is over and done with– he's at a loss of what to do. His dad on the other hand, wanting to make amends with his brother– suggested the Stan O' War like in canon. Ford's trying to fix his relationships one at a time to get it right. It was Stan who nudged Ford to drag Max along with them as well since he knew inherently those two needed to spend time with each other just as much as he did with his brother.

Yes Stan practically raised the triplets alongside Ford's sweetheart for the entire 30 years yours truly was in the nightmare realm. He's not their dad but he's the dad that stepped the fuck UP- even if it kinda is partially his fault that their dad ended up in that realm in the first place LOLOLOL

Sketchy for this doodle pile is here!

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ofbreathandflame-archive · 10 months

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something that has always annoyed me about sjm stans, specifically stans who ‘acknowledge’ that sjm is problematic, is that they never actually take that extra step. and often, she’s only ever called out as vaguely ‘problematic’ and this ‘problematic behavior’ is never actually being expounded on in a nuanced way. so it’s like — of course we’re having these conversations. if the story was well-written, these conversations would be productive. but they’re not, hence why the anti tag exists in the first place. like what’s the point of acknowledging these things when you know you’ll just get shitty when people elaborate on how sjm’s ideology effects characters - including characters that you love/are favored by her.

but then there’s this attitude around the fantasy romance genre in particular that has had me perturbed and it’s this idea that genres such as romance and fantasy-romance are somehow too “lesser” to analyze. it’s “just” fairy porn. again, this is a part of that avoidance language I described in an earlier post; essentially, when people can’t earnestly defend the problems in a series they result to avoiding the conversation entirely. this means they’ll devalue the fantasy romance genre just so that they don’t have to interrogate the harmful tropes they have allowed to become staples of the genre.

i think once you’ve read a good chunk of fantasy/paranormal romance you’ll come to see that it’s a genre burdened with alarming amounts of racism, abuse apologism, and misogyny. and as the booktok train is showing, the use of tropes containing these tropes is up at an alarming rate. and then it begs the question of whether or not we shouldn’t say anything ‘analytical’ about this genre - right? the harmful tropes introduced in twilight are still propagated by the na/ya genre. we even discussed how the loose representation of jacob black potentially spawned an entire genre of ‘poc fishing’ in a lot of young adult novels/media now. and we can all agree that twilight was also dubbed ‘a stupid romance book.’ but that ‘stupid romance book’ is the progenitor of some of the most staple problematic tropes in romance media today.

in truth it’s never ‘just a romance’ book. we seen first hand the effect of just allowing these tropes to exist because these are “just fun novels.”

so if you’re going to headline by acknowledging that sjm has harmful tropes, but not actually take the time to actually expound on what makes her books harmful, like there’s literally no point. and if you’re argument subsists on the idea that the book is a romance and therefore doesn’t warrant any real interrogation then idk what to tell you.

#anti sjm #i sometimes think Tumblr is bad but then someone will send me a twit screenshot #and I get hives #take the lack of comprehension on here and triple it by a thousand #and that will summarize the kind of arguments you’ll find on twitter

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cosmicalily · 8 months

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my japanese kpop-stan mother gives kpop idols roles in her life (if she knew them) - SKZ, BTS, TXT and ENHYPEN

tagging @thevampywolf since she loves my mother and her iconic content (and my mum loves her too, they're like the same person at times welp)

my mum and dad are currently beefing about seungmin and jeongin bc both of them like to annoy each other so vote here on opinions and to hear the full story since it's fun

SKZ

chris - "my client." (for context, she's a psychologist, and she likes to assess kpop idols for fun)

minho - "he would have been my boyfriend, but i wouldn't marry him, because we're too similar, and we'd have too many cats and be a bit crazy."

changbin - "my workout buddy." (they're both gym rats)

hyunjin - "a popular boy in high school that i did a group assignment with."

jisung - "my best friend." (she thinks he's funny)

felix - "i probably would've had a crush on him when i was junior high school."

seungmin - "a guy i hated in high school." (mum's very minho coded, and so she'd probably beef with him the way minho does, so sorta affectionately)

jeongin - "my son in law." (she wants me to marry him, like she straight up told me she won't let me marry any other boy.)

TXT

yeonjun - "the nephew of a twin i didn't know i had." (she's getting a little too creative with these and this one made me snort)

soobin - "son in law."

beomgyu - "my best friend." (i'm actually scared of the chaos that would ensue)

taehyun - "school captain that i hated." (she actually loves taehyun and seungmin, but she thinks she wouldn't get on with them when she was young since she was very sassy and probably would clash personalities or get annoyed lmao)

huening kai - "my son." (he's her child in her opinion, and he reminds her of my little brother so she sees him as a son)

ENHYPEN

heeseung - "he would've been my boyfriend in high school." (duolingo has another person to battle here, although she says she wouldn't marry him or minho, because she's already married to my dad, which is cute lmao)

jay - "classmate in uni."

jake - "my neighbour's son who i didn't hang out with much." (i swear she's thought about these answers before sjgdhs)

sunghoon - "classmate."

sunoo - "my little brother." (this was cute, she has a very soft spot for him and i can see her protecting him and also fighting with him since they're both sassy)

jungwon - "a kid i made cry in primary school." (i'm literally WHEEZING)

niki - "my son." (he's a japanese boy, so of course he's close to her heart.)

BTS

jin - "the rich neighbour's son i hated." (the way she's beefing with so many idols i'm CRYING)

yoongi - "my friend in high school." (they'd get along well, i can see that)

namjoon - "a weird guy in my university class who liked making friends and tried to talk to me too much." (THE DETAIL HELP)

hoseok - "my best friend." (she once dreamt about him working in a theme park as one of those dress up characters lmao. him, gyu and hannie and her would be a chaotic and unstoppable team)

jimin - "my gay friend." (i asked her why she thought this, and she said he reminds her of me, and since i'm bi, she just decided that was the defining factor)

taehyung - "my brother." (she loves him, his music and his dog, he's her bias and i think he belongs in the 'has a soft spot for' category with jeongin, sunoo, huening kai, soobin and niki)

jungkook - "a kid who had a crush on me in junior high school." (i asked her if she liked him back, and she said even if she did, she would avoid him, since he'd be annoying. i think her reference for this was the seven music video and since then her view's been tainted)

my mother is such an icon for this welp, she was just like "you know let me give skz roles in my life," and then it turned into this

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lean-mean-demon-genevieve · 4 months

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I’m not interested in defending celebrities, to be so for real, but I am interested in a crumb of whatever drugs this blogger is on. This kind of standom delusion must feel amazing. 💊💊

It’s so funny to me when stans go after each other and fail to realize that they are all engaging in the same kind of “Nuh-uh! That other side sucks the hardest because of all this very biased data I’ve compiled” type of arguing. I’m also not interested in warring with any stan blogs, but this was just so egregious and needed to be debunked. So let’s unpack:

Right off the bat, this blog has used the word tokenize incorrectly. This means to use someone as a symbol of inclusion or compliance with regulations, or to avoid the appearance of discrimination or prejudice.

I think they are intending to refer to the kids being a commodity to exploit in the overall branding of the family; that they are being objectified. And one only has to skim the Instagram feeds of Danneel and Gen to see which family is more heavy-handed. “Danneel’s entire Instagram use to be solely about that.”Based on what, exactly? Danneel’s very first post is of Jensen and JJ, yes, and her identity as wife and mother is (gasp) very much on display ever since. But…that’s to be expected, right?! After all, sharing those parts of their family life on socials is exactly the whole point and why anyone initially followed. It is that behind the scenes peek into the family lives of J2 that drew people in. It’s not as if either of these women has much of a fan base on their own and neither of them were acting at the time their IG accounts launched.

A quick side-by-side of the 2 accounts at about the same point in time (2017/2018) shows little differences in themes of content:

This blog further claims that “Genevieve and Jared are intelligently including their children where needed” and doing so in “genuine, selfless ways.” *snorts* At the time of this writing, Danneel has 458 posts and Gen has 1,833. Now, I didn’t review each post but the few tags I saw included in family photos were Disneyland and Warner Bros when they visited in recent years. I did not see multiple paid partnership ads featuring the Ackles children. I’m open to anyone proving me wrong, because by sheer volume my argument will still stand. In a random sampling of 2021, we have a string of posts of the Pada-kids that double as ads to varying degrees. Here are just a few examples:

Now you might say, “ok but these are products for children and families…that still seems pretty thoughtful.” Except that one need only scroll a little farther to see the kids included in brand deals for adult supplements, exercise gear, cleaning products, and even shampoo.

All of these products still fit in the “items that help me be a great mom” theme of the Now & Gen era, but this is still blatantly using images of the kids for profit in ways that the Ackles just have not done. What is shown here is just the tip of the iceberg and does not include the other attempts at branding on the failed Now & Gen blog or the YouTube vlog. So I’m not sure how the Pads have only used the kids “when needed” when this family was never going to go hungry without these endorsement deals.

Comparing the volume of likes on Gen’s IG posts that contain the children vs those that do not makes it seem likely that someone has been paying attention to the trends and has concluded that utilizing the children in ads has more earning potential. This is the current climate of social media marketing. These outcomes are in fact considered.

The idea that kids should be allowed to “earn money or have a brand” if they want is actually incredibly irresponsible. Protecting the safety of children that are a part of family content creation was a popular topic over the last year. There have been several examples of families who lost the plot in their efforts to market their children in order to achieve financial gain. What an asinine claim to make for children in general when Google is right there. And I love a link, so here’s a few: X, X, and X. It’s too early to definitively summarize the harm that the Pads might be causing their kids with all the exposure. Even when parents are not intentionally exploiting, their children are too young to consent to this type of “work.” Their brains are literally not developed enough to consider the long term pros and cons. All of this sets them up for potential harm, the risk of which makes none of this a need.

“What’s wrong are self-centered, clueless parents who only show off their kids to benefit off of a certain image.” (Pretending I can’t see the self-centered bit because woooo boy…Gen…😬) But aren’t both families posting photos of their kids to “benefit” off of their image of “family?” It’s baked into the Spn and even Walker marketing. The fandoms have been referred to as a family almost since their inception, so it only makes sense that fans were interested in the leads and their own growing families. Again, both families have benefitted but the Pads have benefitted all the way to the bank. And some Padalecki stans are quick to point this out as a win. If the above blog wants to congratulate Gen on her shrewd sense of business and use of capitalism, then that is a whole other thing and they should just come out and say that without making anyone out to be a saint.

One should take note that nowhere in here have I said that Danneel or Jensen are better people than anyone. I didn’t praise them for anything or proclaim their intentions are always pure of heart. How could anyone know that, except by virtue of the faith that comes along with extreme fandom? And that faith isn’t the same as screenshots, numbers, and patterns.

As always: Pedestals aren’t for people. Hold everyone accountable, even your faves. They will survive.✌🏼

#anti genevieve #but actually more like #anti stan culture #be your own hero

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venusin-aries · 1 year

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Anti’s coming into the Gwyneth Berdara tag and accusing Gwynriel’s of the mischaracterization of Gwyn or only liking Gwyn because of Gwynriel is fucking LAUGHABLE.

All I've seen are posts singing praises about Gwyn (just Gwyn!) and I have NOT ONCE seen a Gwynriel shipper characterize Gwyn wrongly.

What are we mischaracterizing her for?

Being brave as fuck for choosing to train to be a Valkyrie? Nesta’s admiration and fondness of her? For saying she’s resilient for being able to enjoy herself and laugh with her friends after experiencing some fucked up shit? THAT SHE'S LIKABLE?? Being strategic and patient FOR DAYS and spying on the Illaryian males before sending the beasts after them ruthlessly? Being smart and witty? Her interests in sex and smut and stating she doesn’t want to be coddled? Her willingness to sacrifice herself on the bridge? Her determination to finish the blood rite even though she was injured as fuck? Her unwavering loyalty toward Nesta and Emerie? That Nesta thinks her beauty is comparable to Mor and Merrill?

The fact that she’s not judgemental and she immediately accepted Nesta when they were sharing their stories? Her own struggle with guilt and self hate? Her immediately witnessing what Azriel is capable of when they first met? Azriel’s shadows reacting POSITIVELY towards her and yeah, the thought of her joy glowing in his chest? That she teases him and challenges him? That she hasn't seen him torture someone yet but she's seen worse shit soooo why would she be fazed??

She's canonly more suitable for Azriel than anybody else in the series and THAT'S why people dislike her as a character even though on her own she's a great character.

Those are only SOME of her positives we got in ONE book. Notice, some of those positives include Azriel, but most don’t 🤷🏻‍♀️.

Allllllll of those points have textual evidence to support them. And these are allllllll the points Gwynriel shippers love to make about her.

The only charactization of her anti’s will accept is if she goes back to the library, stays there and is never seen or heard of in canon again. Or if she’s evil which she’s likely not going to be. Stop being so petty. If anything SJM has her set up for a HEALING journey.

However some people obviously like to see a female character STAY broken and let her trauma define her.

Getting mad when she's so obviously such a fun character? She has fun and laughs and teases her friends and Cassian and Azriel and enjoys herself but there's something wrong with that and you think its annoying????

Fanon Gwyn and Canon Gwyn are basically the same. If you don’t like fanon Gwyn, you probably don’t like canon Gwyn and that’s fine, whatever, I think you have totally shit taste but whatever just STAY OUT OF THE GWYNETH BERDARA TAG.

I see the shit ya'll tag and then delete.

I’m a Gwyn stan first and foremost but I have not seen one single other Gwynriel shipper mischaracterize her.

Fanon is fun until it melts your brain and you start believing ONLY fanon and wrongly remembering canon and then attacking others for using canon to support their points.

It’s crazy to me that anti’s can dislike a fictional character so much that the idea of potentially seeing more of said character in the canon universe and getting more fandom love honestly upsets them.

Like holy shit, I don’t like E/riel, but I have enough tact not to take that out on either Elain OR Azriel. And I don’t go looking to start shit with shippers because I'm not pathetic. Too bad some people can’t extend that same class to Gwyn.

Also, I feel like some people forget about this fucking scene.

Gwyn studied Ramiel's craggy, unforgiving slope. Not much snow graced its sides. Like the wind had whipped it all away. Or the storms had avoided its peak entirely. “Is it living, though? To take the safe road?”

“You’re the one who's been living in a library for two years,” Emerie said.

Gwyn didn't flinch. “I have. And I am tired of it.” She surveyed the blood-soaked leather along her thigh. “I don't want to take the safe road.” She pointed to the mountain, to the slender path upward. “I want to take that road.” Her voice thickened. “I want to take the road that no one dares travel, and I want to travel it with you two. No matter what may befall us. Not as Illyrians, not for their titles, but as something new. To prove to them, to everyone, that something new and different might triumph over their rules and restrictions.”

A cold wind blew off Ramiel's sides.

Whispering, murmuring.

“They call this climb the Breaking for a reason,”Emerie countered gravely.

Nesta added, “Wehaven't eaten in days. We're down to the last of our water. To climb that mountain-“

“I have been broken once before,” Gwyn said, her voice clear. “I survived it. And I will not be broken again- not even by this mountain.”

Look at me and tell me this is a character we’ll never hear from again. Go right a fucking head.

You can't come into the Gwyneth Berdara tag claiming we mischaracterize her. We take her as is. No need to pick her apart or give her little unnecessary traits to fit her better with any one.

It's not possible to make her out to be something she's not when every little thing we love about her is canon.

You can be salty over us comparing Bryce/Hunt and Azriel/Gwyn but oh wait! SJM uses similar language to describe them ON PURPOSE in canon as fucking well!!!

On purpose.

In fucking canon.

But we’re reaching.

Do not come into the Gwyneth Berdara tag and say Gwynriel’s make it hard to like her but oh, you do like her you do! And then go on to say she’s nothing more special than a Valkyrie or Nesta’s friend. Yeah, I fucking saw that shit.

People are weirdly jealous over a ship/inspiring character a lot of people relate to.

Gwyn is not stealing Azriel from any one because there’s NO ONE to steal him from.

These character's are fake but the hate and vitriol ya'll are spewing at people who like her are very real.

Just stay out of the Gwyneth Berdara tag if you don't like her.

#gwyneth berdara #gwyn berdara #gwynriel #pro gwynriel #azriel x gwyn #gwyn x azriel #pro gwyneth berdara #acotar #acosf #I probably have more to add but I'm blanking #Oh its a long boy #but coming into the Gwyneth Berdara tag and being a dumb bitch is a choice #also this is probably a mess but oh well

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darklinaforever · 2 months

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It's insane how a*ysmond shippers hate Helaena, the idea of helaemond and heavily romanricize the Aemond/A*ys thing. In the books, A*ys is Aemond's prize of war, literally his property and s*x slave, who, later on, regains her agency sending Rapeaemond to his death.

Like, if helaemond is bs and it's never gonna be confirmed as show canon, why are they wasting their time fighting helaemond shippers on sm? And why Geeta's words , confirming special connection between Helaena and Aemond bothers them do much

So, personally, I'm not super invested in the stories of the Helaemond fandom.

I've never had anything against the ship, and it's only recently that I started to really like it and look at some posts on them, even if I avoid because I tend to come across in anti Daemyra / Daemon Targaryen very quickly.

So I haven't had the opportunity to see what you are describing to me in relation to the behavior of Alysmond's shippers, even if I have already vaguely heard about it.

On the other hand, I have seen a lot of Helaegon fans also taking down Helaemond.

Which I find quite crazy and lunar. In what world do you ship Helaegon ?!

But anyway, fandom's behavior towards each other is really not tender, sometimes, just out of pure malice and mockery which I don't understand.

You don't like a ship ? Well don't go to the tag dedicated to them to attack them.

What's in it for you if you're so sure of yourself ? It doesn't make sense and it's quite pathetic.

The Alysmond stans who piss off are either motivated by what I have already cited, or their simple twisted idea of the canon which pushes them to stand up against what they judge to possibly disturb them, which is paradoxical, if they claim that this Helaemond relationship is essentially pure fanon that will never be confirmed.

They're probably insecure about their ship, and don't like it, even if they don't admit it. That's the only reason for their bad behavior, that and or being a complete asshole who has nothing better to do with his life to feel better about himself.

As far as I'm concerned, in the context of the show alone, Helaemond makes much more sense than Alysmond or even Helaegon.

#house of the dragon #hotd #team blacks #team black #pro team blacks #pro team black #anti alysmond #helaemond #helaena x aemond #helaena and aemond #helaena targaryen #helaena the dreamer

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swallowtail-ageha · 11 months

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Scrolling through your asoiaf tag and you have such good and correct opinions like how can anyone love just Dany or just Sansa or just Arya like how can anyone not see the parallels between Dany and Sansa it makes me feel so crazy like why are there so few people who love all the girlies?? I genuinely love every single female POV character and can’t imagine hating any of them. I mean sure yeah Cersei is a villain but you’re telling me her tragedy doesn’t touch your heart? Watching this woman desperately try to avoid her prophecy as it unfolds before you doesn’t have you in a death grip? Or like are you unmoved by Sansa telling an annoying snotty little boy how brave he is because she wants him to feel better? Dany comforting Missandei when her brother dies? Arya getting to the house of the black and white and immediately thinning to being a man a cup of water (or at least what she thought was water)? How about Sansa telling Joffrey she hopes Robb cuts his head off? Dany sassing the man who wants to open the fighting pits? Arya telling Jaquen to kill himself? Like please come on. All three girls are obviously different but they share so many very endearing traits. I am fiercely holding tight to my delusion that Dany and Sansa will bond over stories and songs and Arya will teach Dany about all the flowers in Westeros and then Sansa will show them how to make flower crowns and embroider little emblems on Arya’s clothes

First of all tysm!!!!

The whole arya vs sansa vs dany fandom fight frustrates me to no end, mainly because all parties involved seem to have little to no empathy to the characters whose stans they oppose. It's all maliciously extrapolating some parts of the text to make them see worse than what they are (ex: daenerys' "if i look back i am lost" getting twisted from "dany knows that dwelling on what ifs and turning your back after you have taken a commitment will only damage you in the long term" in "dany doesn't want to reflect on her past mistakes and will go mad and get stabbed to death" or sansa getting frustrated at sweetrobin being a sign of her being ableist and classist while it's. Just a normal reaction of a stressed and traumatized 13 yo who is otherwise very sweet to her cousin)

For loving the female characters same! Even those who commit outwardly villainous acts do get lots of humanizing moments, Cersei, as awful as she is, is simply a product of the hyper misogynistic society she lives in plus years of parental and spousal abuse (and the doomed by prophecy vibes) and. I genuinely don't get how people can look at the walk of shame and say it's a fitting punishment to her crimes

Overall all the hate for female characters that are more complex or more driven or more morally ambiguous than what most female characters are presented as in other media in a fandom who (supposedly) prides itself in liking morally ambiguous characters is.. frustrating, really. I blame both fandom misogyny but also the GoT series, as it's outright changes in female character's actions and stories to make them look better or worse than what they originally were skewered the visions of almost everyone in the fandom (arya is an egregious victim of this. Scenes such as her caring for Weasel or her befriending sex workers in braavos don't exist and they added that "all girls are idiot" scene that i hate and they removed all her plan to free the northmen from harrenal and she got turned from traumatized child to hashtag no one super cool assassin and her character got straight up murdered in the tv series.)

Oh and also for kickstarting the whole jonsa vs jonerys thing which i'm pretty sure is the origin of the stupid dany vs sansa wars

And yes!! Dany Sansa and Arya should get to meet and reunite! While i do think that there will be some slight tensions between Sansa and Arya because they left on Not So Well terms, they have also matured a lot, so i do think they would have an heartfelt reunion. Meanwhile Dany and Arya could bond because of both their connection to Braavos and Arya's admiration for those who free slaves, and Dany would empathize (and feel a common ground) with Sansa for her being a child who had all her family die and got married extremely young while beeing creeped on by older men, while Sansa, who is shown to admire women like Margaery or Myranda, who are shown to be very keen regarding politics or social issues, something that Dany is

In the end, i genuinely hope that all three of these traumatized little girls get their happy ending and none of them dies, they all are interesting and complex characters that share parallels with each other, and it sucks that because of stupid ship wars or discussions on who would get the throne they get pitted against each other. THEY WOULD BE FRIENDS Y'ALL

#anyways i am holding onto the hope that ADoS ends with dany legalizing gay marriage and marrying sansa #sorry if it gets super rambly and incoherent anon because i always tend to do this when i get an ask #i just want to tell you that your ask made my day and it was all on point!!!! i hope you have a nice week month year life #asoiaf

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crackinwise · 6 days

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Look, here's why "Teen" CAN'T be Billy (and it'd make me extra pissed off if it is.) Spoilers for Agatha All Along and Marvel comics!

↓

Billy is a Scarlet Witch fanboy first and foremost. He's also a shameless nerd for all the Avengers, like Kamala Khan. Making his introduction be as an Agatha fanboy, even just as a con, is maddening. Why need her or help her get powers back when he'd know how dangerous she is to Wanda and himself by extension? He's already extremely strong on his own. Why nerf him?

For Billy to be here in search of Wanda, it means they would have majorly skipped his origin story. He had a new family he was born into and a team, adventures, love, all before he AND HIS BRO went to find Wanda. Hell, he thought she was dead like everyone else for a while.

Billy got Wanda back with FAMILY help. His brother Tommy. Uncle Pietro. Grandpappy Magneto. (I do understand the MCU won't let us have the last two.) A family quest to find family being turned into a Halloween Wizard Of Oz journey with an enemy would give me a migraine. They re-imagined House Of M so recognizably with Wandavision, so why would they fumble Billy's comics here?

There's no reason Billy's name or story would be forbidden to Agatha. Who would have made that spell? Why? Would she even recognize him when his last name is very different and family life has no connection to Wanda at all? I doubt he keeps blabbing to her that he's Wanda's son if he's really pretending to be Agatha's stan. (There's another theory of who Teen is that makes more sense for his name to be hidden, but his comics aren't in my wheelhouse.)

When Teen said a spell in the first episode, it was some Latin mumbling instead of his will. Billy in the comics, at least when he's still young, wills things to be in order to use his magic. He says what he wants like a mantra, out loud in plain words. I know the MCU might have nix'd this since he didn't do it in Wandavision either, but I still have hope they'll give it back. It shows how powerful he is, like his mother who could change all reality with an errant thought.

If the boyfriend calling was Teddy, that means they also skipped the couple growing closer on their team and the whole Skrull/Kree prince thing by this point in the timeline, and I'm just already so mad it's taken this long to even get one HINT of Teddy in the MCU, so if they really made his introduction be a neglected phone call I'll scream. He did stay home and worry and cover for the twins while they searched for their mom, but that's AFTER they'd established themselves as heroes and Teddy had his own family crisis. (They should have introduced him in The Marvels, I'm—)

No red in Teen's color scheme nor any resemblance to young Asgardian or Wiccan costumes. It's the weakest argument but the wardrobe dept usually gives us something. Billy had the color scheme in Wandavision and got to mimic his Wiccan costume besides (not the ugly galaxy pajamas they have him in nowadays). There's a promo poster that DOES have Teen in red with a headband, but it still seems off to me. Seems like a trick.

Granted, if Teen is really who most suspect to be another character close to Agatha, he doesn't have that color scheme either and I'd completely understand why...

Now stop making such smartass posts in the tag casually calling Teen "Billy" until we know. Because not only are you raising my blood pressure, but it's disrespectful to people who like to avoid untagged spoilers and you may just be setting them up for no reason. It's rude.

#agatha all along spoilers #agatha all along #billy kaplan #wiccan marvel #scarlet witch #marvel

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princeescaluswords · 5 months

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I like Stiles as a character, but I often get frustrated by fanon diverging from canon, and the worst of it to me is the ways that Lydia treated by Stiles - as something he deserves, most notably when she kisses Scott and he's angry, which the fandom holds against Scott because apparently Lydia making choices means Scott is a bad friend - or in the scene when Lydia is high after the werewolf attack at the movie rental place, and the only thing that keeps Stiles from doing [something] is that Lydia calls out for Jackson rather than him.

I think Stiles is kind of a jerk, and I like him because of it, but the fanon Stiles used as a weapon to bludgeon canon Scott is... the dumbest thing in the fandom

Have you ever seen the frequent criticism on this site that certain people should have paid more attention in English class? This criticism arises from posts like the one I saw today, where a person was confessing that "people think Stiles is evil because he almost made out with Lydia while she was drugged up." I don't think Stiles is evil for doing that; it sounds like you don't think Stiles is evil. I've never actually heard anyone call him evil for almost giving into temptation. (The closest I've ever come to calling Stiles's evil is his behavior in Lies of Omission (5x09) and Status Asthmaticus (5x10) and I don't even go that far). What we do recognize that what he did in Lydia's bedroom in The Tell (1x05) wasn't the right way to behave.

Stiles's desire for Lydia is real and natural; it was his inability to recognize and respect proper boundaries that almost created a very bad situation. He did pull away when Lydia said Jackson's name; the realization that she was confused about who he was and not secretly attracted to him reminded him that his behavior wouldn't be the fulfillment of his desire but him taking advantage of her. It's a good scene that tells us about Stiles's weaknesses but also about his strengths: beyond the insecurity that leads him to fixate on the most unattainable girl in school and his constant disregard for proper boundaries, Stiles is a fundamentally decent human being.

So why do I, personally, bring up this scene when talking about Teen Wolf a lot? Stiles-stans (who are not really fans of Stiles but fans of Fanon Stiles or, more accurately, Self-Insert with a Stiles Name Tag) like to go on and on about how deficient a person Scott McCall, the lead protagonist, is because he was "obsessed" with Allison and lacrosse. They argue this to say why they 'dislike' him, but what they actually mean is that he shouldn't be the lead protagonist. But they never seem to remember Stiles's behavior when it comes to Lydia (or Derek's behavior when it comes to Paige or Liam's behavior when it comes to Hayden for that matter).

My position -- and I think the production shared this position -- is that Scott's desire to have a girlfriend and make first line on the lacrosse team is real and natural. However, his attempts to avoid recognizing and coping with the consequences of Peter's vicious assault could lead to very bad situations unless he took responsibility. Scott had to learn how to anchor himself -- which he did! He had to make sure he put what was truly important ahead of his relationship with Allison -- which he did!

I have always maintained that Teen Wolf is a bildungsroman, which is a story about children becoming adults. Throughout the series, Scott's growth is primary; he evolves from an asthmatic loser who feels like he sits on the sidelines of life into a True Alpha werewolf leading a war against those who would murder supernatural creatures out of self-interest. But he's not the only one to grow. Allison had her own story; Lydia had her own story; Derek had his own story (one of the best redemption arcs ever); and Stiles had his version of that story!

The problem is that there are a lot of people who didn't watch Teen Wolf as a story, but rather as raw material. They swooped in and picked up the parts that they wanted, like vultures devouring a carcass. They wanted Stiles and <insert white male love interest here> to be the focus of the show, as they were the focus of their interests, but they could do without the part where Stiles struggles to grow up. In response, they selected only the parts that fit their agenda. Thus, Scott becomes dull, obsessive, stupid, with a foolish no-kill rule, and an unearned hostility toward the Hale Family whom he shamelessly usurps, even though none of that description is remotely true. On the other hand, Stiles becomes the should-be valedictorian of his class, a master archmage, and a ruthless anti-hero ready to kill anyone to protect which ever white male character he loves this week, even though none of that description is remotely true.

Fandom, in the name of their own enjoyment, has boiled their understanding of the story down to "I don't like Scott" and "Stiles is not evil!" Nuanced takes like "Stiles had the courage to cross boundaries to protect others but that tendency also led him into some problematic actions" and "Scott didn't start out a heroic protagonist; he only embraced the mantle when he realized that the threats he had to face didn't care that he and his friends were teenagers." become difficult for them to understand and unpleasant for them to process, because they only really want Power Fantasy Stiles and Bad Friend Scott. Those bits and pieces fit into the pre-existing tropes that bring them pleasure. It's the limitations that frustrate them, not Teen Wolf's.

#stiles stilinski #scott mccall #scott mccall defense squad #teen wolf fandom problems #fandom racism

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