#whatever im done with tags now yeet

[basicallysalad]

Help girl we're stuck in a candy store.

Yet another dumb frock fanfic by Basic lol.

"Alright little Timmy! Here comes the aeroplane!" The mother said as she moved the spoon of food towards the kiddo, but as the kid was about to eat the very yummy food,

*Thwack!*

The spoon was knocked out of the mothers hand by what seems to be a rubber band, worst thing yet, the food spilt on poor Timmy :( "OH DEAR!" The mother said as she quickly tries to wipe the stains.

From a nearby bush, a very evil laugh can be heard, "She never saw that coming! Oh and look at the little twerps face! Its PRICELESS!!" A certain yellowed faced jerk said as he cackles evilly once more. "Dude! Not cool, look how sad you made them," says a swell gravestone fellow hehe Im' having fun. "Well duh, that's the point! Its called a prank for a reason dude!" Frown said as he got out of the bush, Brock just rolls his eyes and gets up, it was just like any normal day really. Frown causes trouble and drags him along for the ride. Not that he doesn't like coming along, he loves tagging along to hang out with him. But maybe it'd be better if he would've told Brock it'd be a scheme thing. Cause he kinda doesn't like those lol.

"Well, that raps up my bucket list for today! Let's go home and celebrate my very awesome accomplishment!" The lil stinker said as he took out his car keys, "No way dude! You promised me we were gonna get me some snacks afterwards!" Brock said as he crosses his arms, clearly done with the others bullcrap probs, "Oh, yeah about that- can we get it another time? Its getting late and I'm pretty sure the stores are cl-" Frown stopped after noticing how upset Brock was, okay, if there was one person in this kingdom that he didn't want to see sad, it'd be Brock. I mean, they have a loonngg history together and as much as Frown may deny it, he kinda took a huge liking to Brock. Not in like, a lovey dovey way, like nooo pshh. No way. More like, a friend. Maybe. Frown just groaned and offers his hand to the other, "Fiiinnnee, we'll go get your stupid snacks.."

The other smiled brightly, so bright it was almost blinding. Brock grabbed frown and hugged him, even if frown absolutely hates it when he does lol. "Yayy! Thanks dude! It'll be super quick I promise." Frown just squirms in Brock's arms, of course he hates hugs. He was never a huge toucher. It was kinda nice though. But only when Brock does it if anyone else does he's choosing violence. "Yeah yeah whatever..now can you let me go?" Frown said being the lil grump he is. "Oh yeah- sorry-" he just drops the other down Man how do you elaborate. Then they just yeet to their car and vroom vroom to look for a store or something.

The traffic in the unikingdom wasn't as bad as the one in frowntown. Actually, it wasn't filled with traffic at all so they found a store pretty quickly. Speaking of the store, it was kinda like a mall but just a bit smaller. Think of the place to look like your local walmart. The place was loaded with lights which was just burning frowns retinas. He covers his eyes a bit from the lights. Sheesh, talk about over decorating. Brock just hops out of the car, "You wanna come with dude?" Seriously? Why ask that question in the first place? "NO!! The last thing I want is to be surrounded by a bunch of smelly idiots!" Frown said as he just sits in a more comfortable way in the car. "Pfft, of course. If you like, change your mind you can just go inside and look for me in the snack aisle. See ya dude!" Brock said as he waved bye bye to frown and went inside the walmart thing.

Okay so now frown's alone in the car park place. I mean, it was peaceful and quiet but he was bored out of his mind. Just looking at the people come in and out of the place wasn't very fun. Especially since he couldn't really like, terrorize any of them. He doesn't have the materials to do so. And then out of nowhere he gets the idea to hop out of the car and go look for something to do instead so he does exactly that. I mean he did find like, a giant rat just moving around and a bunch of people walking around and stuff but that wasn't very fun. So he just decides that it was too boring for him to stay and chooses to go inside the mall and hang out with Brock instead. It's at least less boring to be hanging out with your bro while shopping than it is to being alone in a car park.

Anyway he goes inside and looks around to see if he can find his buddy chum pal. Didn't take him long though cause a grey gravestone is very easy to spot in a vibrant background lol. He just runs over to Brock who was looking at a box of cereal and clings onto his arm. "Oh, hey dude. How'd staying in the car go?" Brock said as he puts the cereal in the lil cart thing he was holding. Frown just glares at him making the other chuckle, "it's okay dude. I mean now you can tag along with me so that might be more interesting for you."

"Actually it won't be that interesting. This was more of a last resort than anything! Don't think of this as anything else."

"Right, Gotcha. Oh by the way, which cereal do you think is better?"

And like that they were just chilling and shopping, nothing interesting enough that I can elaborate on. Until they stumbled upon the "toy" aisle. At that time it was pretty late, most people have gone home and stores near the area were being closed. Only like, a couple more were open. "Why are we even here? Aren't we just getting snacks?" Frown said as he crosses his arms grumpily, dude just wants to go home already. "Just a sec dude, I gotta look for something really REALLY important!" Brock was just looking through a bunch of shelves filled with lil cartoon figure thingies. He's a sucker for those. Frown never understood why he liked them cause you know, they're just toys that take up more space in their room than necessary. "Ugh! Just get the stupid toy already!" "Hey! Rude, it's not stupid it's valuable." "Ugh whatever! Just get the stinkin' thing and let's get outta h-"

And boom, before frown could finish his sentence the lights were off. Like, they were gone. Blooped. It was dark. And frown was a huge scaredy cat so as soon as that happened he immediately clung onto whatever was near to him, which was Brock lol. Brock blushed a bit and pats his roommates head to sorta comfort him? it was working so whatever heh, "WHAT HAPPENED TO THE LIGHTS?!-" frown said in fear, the grip he had on the other becoming more and more tighter, "Its okay dude chill- lets just go look for a worker or something and ask them about this?" Brock said he tried to loosen the grip the other had on him.

After a bit frown finally came to his senses and let go of his roommate and turned away from him, possibly to hide his face which was tinted with some pink blush. Brock chuckled a bit and held his friends non existent shoulder, "Pfft- its alright dude there's nothing wrong with being a lil scaredy cat," Brock said teasingly, frown just turns around with the regular ol' frown on his face as usual and smacked Brock's hand off him looking at his direction, "Wha- NO WAY!! I wasn't scared you were- ugh- whatever let's just get out of here already-" frown said as he grabbed onto Brock's hand and pulled it with him.

After a while of walking in the dark and getting nowhere, "Dude? do you even know where you're going?" Brock asked frown who just groans and sits on the ground all angry and stuff. After frown was done throwing his fit, they decided to just hang around in the food aisle thing whatchamacallit. The food was just there on the shelves for free and there's no one to stop them so,, they just took some and ate it. "Soo,, you have any ideas?" Brock said as he ate a chocolate bar, frown just shrugs and drinks his coffee, "Its pointless anyway, NOBODY is gonna be here to help us! so we're just stuck in this- place, with everything we need, all for free, and we can't afford usually,,," Frown said as he came to the realization and looked at his roommate with an evil lil smile on his face.

Brock just raised an eyebrow at that, "What?" Frown went over to Brock and put his arm around him, "Don't you realize this dude? We have ALL this stuff to ourselves now!!" Brock wasn't to sure about that, being the good lil boy he was, stealing stuff wasn't really his forte. "I dunno dude, wouldn't that be like, stealing?" Brock said touching both his non existent fingers together. "Uh, duh! that's the point!" frown said as he rolled his eyes. "Don't worry about it, it'll be fine! no one's here anyway!" Frown said trying to reassure his friend. It took a bit, but Brock soon agreed to it. "Fine, but you better promise not to go too overboard on this."

Frown just made a lil victory gesture of sort which if you asked Brock, he'd call it pretty adorable. sometimes the reason why he even agrees to stick around with frown on these types of schemes is cause he likes seeing his friend all happy and excited, its nice. now that might make him sound like a bad person but can you really blame him? he's been crushing on frown for YEARS after all. Suddenly brock's daydreaming is interrupted by frown waving his hand in front of his face, "Uhh, dude? you dead or something?" "Oh- Oh uh- no- lets just go-" Brock said as he got up. Frown just brushed that off, it probably wasn't anything too important anyway.

Frown first started with the aisle they were in first. He took some cookies and a few sodas and put it in a basket (which he also stole). Brock wasn't really keen on the idea of taking the stuff. So he decided to watch over Frown and making sure he is um. Tamed? Picture it like making sure your dog stays on a leash and doesn't tear up your flower patch. Frown started giggling like an idiot at how evil he felt in that moment. He'd never stolen so much from a store as he was then, "Gosh the store is so gonna be bankrupt with all the stuff I'm taking!" you can insert another evil giggle here. Gosh, he loves that idiot. Brock keeps repeating that in his head everytime they go out and do this kind of stuff. But really, It's the truth. He'd never loved someone more than frown. If only he could just hold him in a more, loving way. As they maybe, sit on the couch. Watching a romantic movie. Well- they already do that but in more of a platonic movie night between friends way. He doesn't mind it of course but really, he could only yearn to be viewed as more than friends by his roommate. To be fair, frown is either ignoring his feelings or is just that dense and to be fair, he hopes for the latter. His daydreaming was cut short when frown accidentally dropped something he was holding. once he looked back at frown (in a less lovey state) only to find he had taken way more than he could carry. "DUDE THAT IS WAY TOO MUCH." Brock said, clearly that won't be able to fit in their car.

"Ugh it'll be FINEEE. We can make room and push it in." Frown said as he puts the overflowing basket down to stretch out his back a bit. carrying all that stuff was already doing bad things to his back. gosh, aging sucks. Brock just looks at him with a sorta 'I'm so done with you' look, but it was more softer of course. "Yeah right, and people wouldn't expect a thing when we're driving through the highway with a car full of items?" Frown stood there and thought a little. Okay, as rare as it is for this to happen, he might've overlooked that one. he groaned in an annoyed tone, "Fine whatever." He crossed his arms in a lil grumpy way which made brock wanna absolutely squish his cheeks. which he did. "Dawwww, don't be a lil grumpster now. Tell you what, how about instead of stealing, we just go and have fun in this place instead?" frown swatted his hands away from his face and looked at him angrily before thinking for a sec, "What kind of fun?" he said crossing his arms and looking unintrigued at Brock.

"Well I saw that there was a furniture aisle with tons of cool stuff to mess around with so like-"

"Ooohh!! Good idea! I could try and mess up the items and put them in the wrong places!! The employes are gonna be soo mad tomorrow!" frown said, interrupting Brock (rude) and doing that weird chuckle thing he did in the show when he has a dumb idea. FYI this wasn't what Brock was planning on saying btw. "Oh um, sure i guess. If you want." Brock said a little upset. He felt a little feeling of disappointment in his guts. Mainly cause he was mostly planning on just relaxing with frown there. But you know what, whatever it is makes frown happy, he goes with it. as long as nobody gets hurt of course.

"Well? What're you waiting for?! Come on!" Frown said impatiently, tapping his nonexistent foot on the ground and crossing his arms.

"O-oh- right- come on, follow me."

After a bit of just walking they finally arrived at the aisle and boy was Brock not kidding when he said there was tons of cool stuff in there. cause there was like, TONS OF COOL STUFF IN THERE. Frown's eyes had the lil hint of excitement in them. mostly he had the evil look though of course. he immediately began to unplug the tv's and move the vacuums to the blender section. Brock just lightly chuckled at how excited he was at just messing up the place. Though the lil feeling of disappointment was still churning in his guts. He felt as if he kinda screwed up a perfect opportunity. He tried not to overthink that fact too much. He'd only started feeling this feeling now which was weird to him. guess the darkness is really starting to set a mood in him or something. especially since it's just them. Alone. Brock went over the the beds part of the aisle and flopped onto one. he couldn't sleep obviously, not without his nighty night kiss. but it felt nice to lay down finally after standing and sitting all night.

Meanwhile frown was having the time of his life. He decided he was gonna misplace the pillows from the sofas. He laughed evily at the monstrosity of a sofa he had created. A grey sofa with bright neon yellow and pastel green pillows on each end, along with a bright blue blanket. Could bring tears to the eyes even, whether it be negatively or positively. Other than that he also misplaced multiple appliances in the place. He let out a content sigh, "Would you look at that dude! You could say I really outdid myse-" as he went to nudge his roommate, he realized he wasn't there hah moron. "wha- Brock?" Frown called out to his roommate. Brock never answered which compelled frown to go look for him. It's unlikely he got hurt. I mean, how could he. They're just in a mall after all.

After a while of just mindless walking, he finally saw Brock laying on one of the beds in the bed aisle. Frown felt a little angry that he didn't respond to his call earlier and decides to give him a little surprise instead.

Frown picked up a pillow and slowly tip toed his way towards Brock who looks a little dazed? Whatever it is, but he's definitely distracted. Maybe he took a nap. Frown just decided to not think too much of that. He smacked the pillow at Brock. Who jolted up in shock. Brock turned around towards frown and pulled him onto the bed.

"You little sucker!" Brock said lightheartedly as he held frown tightly. Like a bear hug maybe. Frown struggled to free himself for quite a while until he decided to just relax and lay in Brock's arms to the others surprise. Brock let go of frown who just slowly slid down Brock's chest which made him wiggle a bit from the weird feeling. He liked it though.

Frown then got up and looked at Brock with old grumpy expression. "What're you even doing here dude? It's so boring." Frown said as he crosses his arms and scoots closer to the edge of the bed. Brock couldn't just tell him 'oh I came here to try and distract myself from my fat crush on you!' no way. "Oh I uh, just came here to lay down, that's all." Brock said as he did the awkward gesture of rubbing his nonexistent neck. Frown looked at him in the eyes which made Brock look away immediately in response. Frown felt a bit uneasy about that. A feeling he feels so rarely he forgot how it felt. He felt bad. He knew that something was bothering him, but he can't really muster up the courage to try and ask him about it. His pride won't let him. But he knew if he didn't do anything about it, Brock would just continue to be upset and he wouldn't want that. After a solid minute of back and forth he decided to just shut out his thoughts completely.

Brock felt that the silence was a bit awkward and decided to turn back to frown to apologize. he assumed that maybe frown would be looking away grumpily and crossing his arms, waiting for an apology as usual. But this time, he was met with a much more, warmer presence. And by that I mean frown grabbed him by the sides and went in for the kiss. Brock was first overwhelmed by shock as his eyes widen by the sudden kiss but as time went on he slowly melted into it. It was a rare for frown to engage in physical touch like this. let alone a kiss that lasted longer than 5 seconds. They weren't going super hard at it or anything, it's just, a light kiss. but it was longer. after a minute frown pulled away. Brock looked at him and chuckled a bit, "Duuudee, what's with the sudden kiss?" Frown blushed after realizing what he did. How was he gonna come up with an excuse now. "WH- WELL- I-" he stuttered struggling to come up with a working sentence, his mind was practically just a blur at that point. Brock smiled gently at the other and grabbed frown by the place where his hips would be and placed him on his lap. they were in a sorta cuddle situation which made frown start to heat up from being flushed and somewhat anger too. but mostly being flushed.

"Well, if that was your own way of trying to cheer me up then, congratulations dude! You definitely did." Brock said breaking the silence. Frown wiggled a bit in the others grip, which made the other let him go. It wasn't cause he was uncomfortable or anything. He just, felt a bit restless. Especially since he suddenly has the blaring thought of him and Brock doing more gross lovey dovey stuff together, yuck. Maybe it's the darkness of the room or something, it's making him feel more mushy than before. author has no idea why he wanted to write him like this. Brock felt like he had to say something anything when all of the sudden, "Hey, dude?- I um- know this sounds super dumb but do you want to,,, uh-" Frown trailed off as he looked at Brock who was blushing as his eyes sparkled in a way that made frown's heart race and words to be stuck in his throat. He can't tell if that's part of his imagination or not. His face completely red as heart sparkle matter matter started to fling out all over the place. Brock knew exactly what's going on now which made him blush deeply as well. He brought up a hand to cover his mouth to hide his goofy lil smile. His heart pounding in his chest. Holy crap it's happening. But as he looked at frown, he looked like he had just malfunctioned. Brock chuckled as he leaned towards frown and firmly held frown's face as he kissed him. Frown returned it pretty quickly as he closed his eyes shut and grabbed brock by the sides.

This time, their kiss was much more deeper. Not deep enough to be considered anything sensual. After a minute or two, they finally pull away panting a bit. Brock looked at frown who seemed a bit dazed like he was just in a trance of sort. "h-hubba hubba!-" Frown blurted out which made Brock burst out laughing. Frown snapped out of it finally after that and immediately felt mortified at what he just said. He started smacking brock to silence him but that does nothing. Which makes Frown just grumpily look away from him. After a bit Brock finally calmed down a bit, "Pfft- wow dude- didn't expect YOU out of all people to say THAT-" Brock said trying to control himself, frown was still a grumpy about that which made Brock scoot closer to him an poke him playfully. "Naawwhh don't be such a grump noww. I thought it was pretty cute dude!" Brock teased lightheartedly. Frown stared back at Brock still with a frown plastered on his face. Brock pinched his cheeks a bit. "Oh cheer up maann, you know I'm just messing with you. Now come on, let's go watch a movie or something!" Brock said holding his hand out to Frown who sighs and takes it.

They managed to get the display tvs on and watched the amazing bulk together. Brock felt Frown's head fall on his nonexistent shoulder, Brock smiled softly as he turned of the tv. poor dude, must've been all tuckered out after all that scheming lol. Brock kissed him goodnight since he already got his nighty night kiss earlier. he fell asleep right there too.

.

.

.

.

"Hey,"

"HEY!"

The both of them were awoken by the sound of someone yelling, as they look around, the place was all bright again and they surrounded by staff members of the store. And they did not look happy.

Frown blinked for a bit adjusting to the brightness before his expression became more crossed.

"shoot."

______________________________________________________________

This thing has been rotting in my drafts for too long.

Take it away from me.

[ofmagiick]

pinned post and docs tba, but for now here's the html of the rules on my theme until i can get other admin stuff done:

laws

I.

SELECTIVITY / FOLLOWING - this is a selective blog for my sake, but honestly, if i can see us writing, i will follow back. i am mutuals only, though, and will have anxiety about sending you things if we aren’t, even if you’re cool. i'm iffy on doubles, just because i myself am very self-conscious. it’s a personal thing, chances are i thing your writing is fucking dope.

II.

CROSSOVERS / OC MUSES - two words: fuck. yeah. star wars lends itself to crossovers hella well, we can figure this shit out in a hot second. plus, the galaxy is so vast and diverse, i want to explore more of this universe, as much as i can. as for ocs, y’all brave as fuck, and i love them. just have a rules/about page, and then we’re golden

III.

RP ETIQUETTE - you know, don’t god mod, don’t randomly kill my muse (not saying you can’t, hell, please do, just im me first), don’t reblog threads you’re not a part of, don’t relog my hc posts. and have fun.

IV.

FORMATTING / ICONS - match me, don’t, dance the macarena before posting, i don’t give a fuck. i format how i want, when i want. my icons use citrus, by apocalypseresources

V.

WRITING - kind of a slow writer, and easily distracted. poke me over ims after about two weeks, if i haven’t replied before then. not super here for rape/torture, but i have an odd like for eldritch and body horror...

VI.

GRAPHICS - all graphics on my blog are made by me/for me. give credit where credit is due. be nice. making shit is a lot harder than just throwing an image into photoshop and clicking buttons. people work hard on shit, and i will come for your knees if you don’t credit people, creators, artists, etc… i have baseball bats.

VII.

SHIPPING - fuck yeah fuck yeah fuck yeah !! you come to me with a ship, and by the time i’ve finished processing the words, i’m already hella emotionally invested. crackships are my shit, so please don’t be scared. honestly, i’ll ship pretty much anything. probably even some sketchy shit by other’s standards. if that’s a problem, hasta la vista, and sorry i don’t cut it for you.

VIII.

NSFW - i and my muse are 18+, my nsfw tag is literally ‘a girl’s got needs,’ let’s fuckin’ do this. i’ll write it, but not with minors. other, general nsfw topics might come up, due to the nature of AUs and canon events. i do try and tag as cw // or cw ment //, so please feel free to tell me things you need tagged.

IX.

PLOTTING - do it. done. if i don’t write down whatever idea i have quick enough, it will get yeeted from my head like a brick out the window fuckin adhd, so (with express permission from you) i’ll message at bizarre hours, probably. on the flip side, this is your express permission: i, lily, mun of ofmagiick, give you, [name], mun of [blog], permission to send me ims/ask with plot proposals. it’s signed and sealed as soon as you read this. no take-backsies. you gotta, now. :3c

X.

MEMES - headcanon/ask my muse questions/etc, open to all. interaction-oriented, mutuals only. no reblog karma, but if you aren’t sending me something, reblog from the source, please

XI.

ACTIVITY - it can be spotty. i’m a full-time student, adhd mess. hit me up in ims with reminders or ping me on disco/in a server, its all cool.

XII.

MAINS / EXCLUSIVES - i'm okay with mains, you'll be my go-to version of a character, and the one i'm thinking of if mine mentions yours to someone else, but that's gonna be discussed beforehand. exclusives will have to be heavily, HEAVILY discussed, and likely will be way down the line if ever.

XIII.

CALLOUTS - bitch, no. get that shit away from me. won’t post ‘em, won’t reblog ‘em. call me out if you want, i’ll screenshot it, print it out, and put it up on my wall to laugh at, and remember people are still wasting brainpower to be mad at me. if you have an issue with me, hit me up in ims/off anon, and we can talk like adults.

???

ABOUT THE MUN - what up it’s ya nerd lily with newest brainrot, this time sci-fi. pronouns are she/her or “hey you ditz”, i am legal to drink in the us and far beyond legal adult there, and i id as a goddamned fucking mess mutuals feel free to hmu for discord if you want it

[myghostmonument]

13 x Reader: Home

Notes: Wow this took forever! It’s entirely too long but hopefully still an enjoyable read; I couldn’t find a good way to split it up. I really enjoyed this request and it’s been stewing in my mind for a WHILE, which is where most of my first drafts are usually written. I have another one or two fics planned that will probably also be around this length (or longer), but I’m really focusing on making the majority of my requests more concise. lmao we’ll see. This is also gender neutral for the reader!! Yay! As always requests are open so long as you understand that I’m slooooow Summary [anon request]: Could please you do an OT3 fic with Thirteen/Reader/Yaz, (Ryan can be there too but as a friend) where they just finished a really messed up adventure and they all have to reassure each other they're ok and it's all fluffy and maybe some angst? Warnings: None WC: 5500 oops

It hadn’t hit you, not at first. There hadn’t been time initially; there so rarely ever was. Not when there was so much going on, so much to do. And even after, when you had slammed shut the doors of the TARDIS and left the planet behind, you were still riding the wave of exhilaration. It was that particular brand of adrenaline utterly unique to traveling with the Doctor, and it kept your mind focused on moving forwards, with nothing more distant than the here and now. It was glorious, chaotic, intoxicating. It was survival. It kept the awareness of even bodily injuries from distracting you, because it didn’t matter that you couldn’t make a fist with your left hand, or that Yaz’s shirt was more blood than anything else, or that the Doctor could only draw in measured, shallow breaths. The only thing that mattered was the next step, the next breath drawn, the next moment unfolded. Surviving. And when you had survived, when you leaned panting against the doors of the TARDIS and watched while the Doctor flew around the console, her hands a blur and her voice a continuous counterpart of conversation to the groaning of the timeship as it took flight away, away from there- that was when the wave was at its peak. It flooded you with triumph and coloured everything golden, bright. It was a sort of pride that said yes, we did it, another adventure completed, another win. So no, it didn’t hit you right away, the impact of what you had just seen. What you had just done. The choices you had made, the consequences you had watched unfold. It wasn’t till you stood swaying in the console room and watched as the Doctor and Yaz moved away that you started to feel it. To understand. Horror trickled through you, slowly at first, but building. Between one breath and the next, it was a flood. Your face felt cold even as your injured arm began to burn, and you couldn’t stop remembering, couldn’t stop seeing, not even when you closed your eyes- And then, nothing. Your mind had carefully and firmly blanked. At some point you had ended up in your room, sitting on the floor. You weren’t sure if that was by choice or not. It didn’t matter. You sat and stared at nothing, safer by far than closing your eyes. Your wounded arm was not exactly numb; you were aware of the pain. It just didn’t touch you. (You were also aware, distantly, that you should probably have followed Yaz and the Doctor to the medbay, but you hadn’t. Had just stood there, alone in the gently humming console, until your feet moved on their own, took you away.) It was Yaz who eventually found you, sitting against your bed with your knees drawn to your chest. She might have spoken to you, or she might not have. It was only when you realized that you were warmer and turned your head that you noticed her, settled down next to you on the floor. You shook your head slightly; you got the impression that you weren’t keeping track of time in an entirely coherent manner. You blinked slowly, realized belatedly that Yaz had said something. “What?” ���I don’t want to be alone,” Yaz repeated, and paused. “Do you?” The words were raw, scraped too thinly over exhaustion and pain to be in any way gentle. But they were for all that kind. Kind, and sincere. Because they were coming from Yaz. What she said, she meant. “No,” you whispered, and leaned your head against her shoulder. Your hand found its way into hers without conscious effort or choice, or perhaps it was her hand that found yours. You both sat that way for a while, with clutching hands and distant eyes. You were still in a conflicting state of numb fog mixed intermittently with flashes of horror, but it was easier with Yaz there. Or if not easier, at least… better. She had seen the same things, had made the same choices, was living with the same memories. Eventually, a separate thought floated to the top of your mind, and you mumbled it into Yaz’s shoulder: “What’s the Doctor doing?” “Wondering why her friends are hiding on a floor, and not in the medbay where they’re supposed to be.” You felt Yaz jump, and you lifted your head, looking over the edge of your bed to see the Doctor framed in the doorway. Yaz leaned around the edge of the bed to look for herself, then settled back against you with a released breath. “She really loves making a dramatic entrance,” Yaz muttered, and despite everything, your lips twitched in an approximation of a smile. It was true. “I heard that,” the Doctor said as she moved into the room. Her boots appeared in your field of vision, followed abruptly by the rest of her as she crouched down in front of you and Yaz. You blinked, focusing on her face and noting idly how her ear-cuff glinted in the dim light as she turned her head from you to Yaz. Her lips were pressed into a thin line, and her eyes were narrowed. She looked worried. Tired. “You didn’t follow us to the medbay,” the Doctor said, and you realized that she was looking at you again. “Weren’t you hit by one of those blasters?” Her tone was neutral, but her eyes were flickering with a restless, almost angry tension as they moved down. You looked down as well. “I- didn’t think about it,” you said truthfully, looking blankly at your left arm. You felt Yaz move. “That looks bad,” she said, and the genuine concern in her voice reached you even through your hazy disinterest. “It’s not, but it does need tending,” the Doctor said, though she was looking at your face as she spoke, not your wound. “I didn’t think about it,” you repeated, your voice hollow. Something in the Doctor’s expression shifted, and you struggled to elaborate. You wanted to appease that look in the Doctor’s eyes, but it was hard to find words when emotions themselves eluded you. “I just- I- I didn’t-” you were trying to articulate, but you could feel those emotions (your pain, your memories) welling up in your chest, in your throat, and they were choking you. Yaz tightened her grip on your hand, and the Doctor’s expression shifted again. “Hey, alright, it’s fine, you don’t need to explain-” she began, soothingly, but the memories were still rising, building, and something had to give, something had to give. “- and I can’t- if I try- I can’t make it stop-” “Can’t make what stop-” “They’re… even when I- I close my eyes and I- I see it all again, again and again-” you shuddered and fell silent as you choked on your own words. Yaz was also silent, but tears were running slowly down her cheeks and her own gaze was glazed and distant with remembered horrors. The Doctor’s lips had parted slightly, but as her gaze moved from you to Yaz and she saw the tears, her lips flattened again, pressed tight over words she did not say. They were present in her eyes, though. The Doctor was tired, hurting, and now she was angry too. Angry for the pain she saw in her companions, for the damage done. But her voice when she spoke was absent of that anger. She was good at that, at misdirection. Only her eyes ever betrayed her true self when she let her guard slip. But you weren’t looking at her eyes, or anything else. Nothing in that room, anyways. “Oh,” the Doctor said softly, “oh, my poor fam. Come here, you lot.” Leaning forwards, she pulled you both towards her and into an embrace. You closed your eyes as your face pressed up against the fabric of the Doctor’s coat and inhaled the familiar scent (vanilla, with hints of machinery and something else, something distinctly her). You could feel Yaz next to you, your hands still entwined. It was an awkward, precarious embrace, huddled as you were on the floor and with only four good arms to go around for the three of you. Yes, it was awkward. It was also suddenly as necessary to you as air, as the next drawn breath. You shuddered again as the Doctor spoke, her voice still gentle and absent of the storm that lurked in her eyes. “I’m sorry you had to see that,” she murmured, her head bent over you and Yaz. Her own eyes slid closed, and you could hear the exhaustion in her voice, the way it rasped slightly. She had taken damage too, you remembered.  Anger stirred in you, a sharp jab that pushed away some of your numb fog. You lifted your injured arm and wrapped it painfully around the Doctor, holding her to you as tightly as you could. “Are- you okay?” you asked the Doctor, your voice muffled by her shirt and coat. The Doctor made a quiet sound, something not quite a word, and you felt her shift, pulling you more fully into her arms while her head bent closer over yours, her nose resting in your hair. You could feel her heartbeats against your own chest, and unconsciously you began to match your breathing to hers. “Oh, yeah. You know me, I’m the king of okay.” The words were almost (almost) convincing, falling breezily from the Doctor’s mouth with what was close to her normal light, irreverent tone. Close. She obviously heard the discrepancy too, and cleared her throat. “Have you seen anything like that before?” Yaz asked. “Have you- done that-” she trailed off bleakly, and the Doctor was silent for a few moments. “I’ve been traveling for a long time,” she said finally, quietly. “I’ve seen the worst of the universe, in so many forms and species. Death and famine and war and senseless, needless cruelty, selfishness and fear…” her arms tightened around you and Yaz as she spoke. “But I’ve seen the best of the universe too. People who leap to protect others without even a thought, who stand in front of those in need and go above and beyond to make the universe a better, kinder place.” She pressed a soft kiss to your head, then did the same to Yaz. “Does it get easier?” Yaz asked. “Having to see the- the worst bits?” Again, the Doctor was silent, and this time the moment stretched just a little bit too long. “Come on then,” she said, and she had layered her words with that breezy cheerfulness again, avoiding Yaz’s question. “Enough moping around on the floor. How about some tea? I love tea-” she was moving as she spoke, extricating herself from the embrace and standing. She helped up Yaz, then held out a hand to you. You started to reach up with your injured arm, then dropped it with a wince and proffered your other hand. “Mmm,” the Doctor said as she pulled you up, her eyes sharp on your bad arm. “But before tea, you need patched up.” She had kept a grip on your arm, eyed it critically while moving it gently back and forth. You blinked slowly. The presence of Yaz and the Doctor (and the touch of their skin on yours) was an anchor, but you were still drifting as your mind tried to shield you. To forget. “I’ll start the tea,” Yaz said, wiping surreptitiously at her cheeks. The Doctor’s eyes moved to her briefly and her expression softened, though she did not comment, only nodded. The three of you left, Yaz vanishing in the direction of the kitchen while you trailed after the Doctor (who couldn’t seem to make herself walk slowly to save her life) into the medbay. It didn’t take particularly long to clean and bandage your arm (the wound was largely superficial, if painful) and soon you and the Doctor joined Yaz in the kitchen. True to her word, Yaz had started the tea, and when you came in it was to the sight of her straining to reach some mugs, her face tight with frustration and pain. “I got it,” the Doctor said, stepping forwards quickly. For someone who was by the most generous of estimates barely an inch taller than Yaz, the Doctor nonetheless rarely missed an opportunity to flex her superior height. You rather suspected that Ryan and Graham had begun storing items in higher and higher places, and for precisely that reason. (You were for example sure that the coat hook in the console room had been stealthily and consistently adjusted until it was several inches higher, and counting. One of these days the Doctor was going to try to hang up her coat and find herself to reach, and then… well, you weren’t sure what would happen but you doubted popcorn would be out of place.) You’d been meaning to broach the topic with Yaz and brainstorm possible counter attacks against Ryan and Graham’s mischief… perhaps the TARDIS could be wheedled into lowering the door frames? You accepted a mug of tea automatically from Yaz, your gaze distant as your thoughts pieced themselves together sluggishly, disjointed. Ryan and Graham… you looked up suddenly, and met the eyes of the Doctor. She’d been watching you, and there was a crease next to her left brow. “Are you- are- Ryan and Graham?” you said haltingly, not sure why the words were so reluctant to form. “Yeah, we should probably be picking them back up soon?” Yaz said, though her tone made it into a question as she too looked at the Doctor. “You know how Graham gets,” she added with a faint smile. “Right you are,” the Doctor agreed, setting down her tea. Her eyes flicked between you and Yaz, and her lips pressed together again over more unspoken words. “I’ll just be a mo,” she said, and slipped away. A vacuum of silence was left in her wake, and you and Yaz looked at each other. The memories seemed somehow brighter, more real in that ringing silence. As if they filled the room with a swelling, tangible presence and left no room for you and Yaz. She must have felt it too, because after a moment she stepped to your side, and her free hand found yours again. Not long after the familiar groaning wheeze of the TARDIS filtered into the room, followed by a brief silence and then muffled voices, growing louder. You had one of those sudden painfully clear thoughts that cut so sharply through the fog, and realized that you were not prepared to talk to Ryan and Graham. Yaz’s grip on your hand was suddenly tight, or perhaps it was your grip on hers. You clung to each other, silent in solidarity and apprehension. The voices grew louder, then suddenly muted as another voice spoke over them. It was the Doctor, and though you couldn’t hear her actual words, you could hear the cautionary tone of her voice. There followed a few more exchanges, more subdued, and then a brief silence. When the Doctor stepped back into the room, she was alone. She lifted a hand and brushed hair out of her eyes as she approached you and Yaz. Though her face was drawn tight with exhaustion, her eyes were as sharp as ever as they focused on the two of you, and she noted immediately the way you were clutching each other with pale, wan faces. “Oh,” she said, and there was something so deeply, painfully sad in that one quiet word that you felt as if it shivered in the air, in your heart. You were too raw for it, and closed your eyes- no! You opened them again, afraid of what you saw when you closed them, when you shut out the distractions of the world, when you let yourself still and think and- There was a tug on your hand. You blinked, and realized that the Doctor had grasped Yaz’s other hand and was pulling her away, and you with them. You followed as they moved to the library. Partially because following was easier than resisting, but mostly because when all else failed, you had that, had them. You would follow those two women into anything. “We’ve got tea and biscuits,” the Doctor said, sitting down on a sofa next to Yaz. You had just settled on Yaz’s other side when the Doctor had snapped her fingers and leapt back to her feet. “I know! A fire, we should have a fire. That’s proper cozy, just what we need.” She took off her coat and tossed it over the arm of the sofa before moving to crouch in front of the fireplace. She muttered all-but inaudibly to herself for a few moments as she poked around (you thought you heard a flippant ‘this should be fine’ which didn’t inspire an awful lot of confidence). A few experimental buzzes on the sonic however produced a very respectable fire indeed, and one that didn’t seem too likely to burn down the room. “There,” the Doctor said in a satisfied voice, rocking back on her heels and dusting off her hands. “Cozy.” She placed her hands on her knees and glanced briefly over her shoulder at you and Yaz. Her hair had fallen across her face again, and strands of it were limned in gold by the light of the fire. You stared at her, crouched, disheveled, tired, shadowed. Yet she glowed. She glowed. She caught your eye and smiled, pushing some of her hair out of her face. “You’re going to stay with us?” Yaz asked, moving over as the Doctor resettled herself on the couch between you and her. “‘Course,” the Doctor said easily, leaning back against the cushions and crossing her legs. She reached out and grasped one of Yaz’s hands, then yours. Her fingers curled gently around yours and she gave a soft squeeze. “For a bit, anyway. I think we should be together after… after that. And,” she added, an attempt at sternness as she looked between you, “this seems better than huddling on a floor.” The sternness was somewhat undercut by the way she squeezed your hand again, however. You leaned your head against her shoulder, staring sightlessly into the fire. On your other side Yaz copied you, and the Doctor made a quiet sound, dropping quick kiss on Yaz’s head, and then yours. “My fam,” she said softly. “I’ve got you.” “We’ve got each other,” Yaz corrected, and you nodded in agreement, feeling the Doctor’s hair brush across your face. “Right,” the Doctor said, and her voice sounded odd. She cleared her throat. “Do you… want to talk about it?”  Your breath seized. The shard of bright, unflinching memory pierced your fog, tore it to shreds like damp paper. You stiffened, clutching convulsively at the Doctor’s hand and turning your face into her shoulder, away from the light. Your chest had tightened at the thought of- at the thought- and your arm jerked as it gave a sullen pulse of pain, as if the conversation had woken it. “Or… maybe we just talk, about any old thing,” the Doctor continued. She was looking down at you, and for a moment the reflected firelight was nothing compared to the fire in her eyes. You couldn’t see that, though. You could just feel her warmth against you, and her gentle hand around yours. Yes, it was only her eyes that ever betrayed her. “That sounds good,” you heard Yaz say faintly. So that’s what you did, the three of you. You talked. Mostly the Doctor, spinning stories of past adventures and regenerations and friends. The stories often brought up more questions than than they resolved, but that was okay. You had long since accustomed yourself to the Doctor’s whimsical and rapid-fire method of speaking, the way she blended the ordinary and extraordinary with effortless, capricious casualty. She was youthful and brilliant; she was ancient and utterly mad. She was both the raging storm and the anchor that kept you safe, and as she spun her stories in that quiet room you felt your mind finally begin to quiet. Not all the way, not even close, but… a veneer of normalcy crept over you, and you relaxed. Eventually, impossibly, you fell asleep. You hadn’t wanted to, knowing what you’d see when you closed your eyes with nothing left to confront but yourself. Those thoughts, those memories. But you weren’t alone, and the Doctor’s familiar voice (along with her presence, and Yaz’s) slowly suffused you with enough peace that your mind quieted. And with the quiet came, blessedly, sleep. Your head was in the Doctor’s lap at that point. She had draped an arm over your side, and the gentle circles made by her fingers had been a countermelody to her voice, another anchor. At some point Yaz drifted off as well. She had moved to the floor (she said she liked her feet toasty, though the Doctor suspected that in truth her shoulder was aching) and dozed with her back against the sofa and her head just touching yours as it rested against the Doctor’s thigh. The Doctor stopped talking, eventually. But she did not sleep. If you had been awake, if you had seen the fire reflected in her ancient, solemn gaze, you might have wondered if she too was afraid of what she would see behind closed eyes. So there was silence for a long time. Until- “How are they doing?” The Doctor looked away slowly from the hearth to look at Ryan. She gave him a tired smile as he lurked in the doorway; his posture was worried, unsure. But at her smile the young man stepped farther into the room, his gaze moving between you and Yaz. The Doctor followed his gaze, her eyes fixing on Yaz in the flickering firelight. Yaz always managed to look worried when she slept, so that at least wasn’t new. But the Doctor felt that the policewoman’s face was more stark, the skin more tightly drawn over her bones than normal… and the heavy bandaging on her shoulder didn’t do much to help dispel the image. The Doctor’s gaze moved to the side, followed slowly by her head and her hair fell partially across her face as she looked down at her other sleeping companion. You. It was less normal for you to look so harried, so upset when sleeping, and the Doctor’s eyes might have tightened as she stared. But her hand that rested on your side remained soft, gentle. Protective. “I don’t know,” she answered finally, and even she could hear how tired her voice sounded. How helpless. “Not worse.” “That’s something, then,” Ryan said, though his tone lacked conviction. The Doctor looked up at him and managed another tired smile. There was no joy or happiness in it, but there was genuine appreciation for Ryan and his kindness. “Yes, it is.” “If you want a break or anything, I can sit with them-” “No.” Guttural, low, raw. The word was an instinctive reaction that left no time or room for softening, and even the Doctor was startled when it left her lips. Just one word, but it had been torn from a primal place of raised hackles, bared teeth, flashing eyes. “No,” she repeated, more gently. “I’ve got this.” Her voice was still ever so polite, and it didn’t match her eyes even a little bit. Ryan nodded cautiously, his eyes moving from the Doctor’s left hand (which had moved to cup your head, fingers splayed as if to shield) to her right (which had dropped to Yaz’s un-bandaged shoulder). The gestures were small, but there was nothing subtle about them, and Ryan was wise enough not to push. Not when he saw the cracks in the Doctor’s composure, confined though they were to her eyes (and to that one devastating word). For someone normally so open and upfront with her emotions… it was more alarming than if she had shouted. Those bared fangs and flashing eyes lurked just beneath the surface of her familiarity, a familiarity which suddenly seemed so thin, so insubstantially draped over the ancient, feral thing that she truly was. Ryan had to remind himself again that this person, this friend of his, was not human. But she was his friend, and he did not fear her. So he nodded again, and he did what friends do. He offered his help once more, even in the face of her pain and rejection. “Well, if you do need anything, Graham and I are around, okay?” “I’ll keep it in mind,” the Doctor said, and the wildness had receded from her eyes as she watched him move to go. (Receded, yes, but it lurked. Always, it lurked.) “Ryan-” he turned, looked at her, “thank you. Really.” Ryan nodded, because he heard the tacit apology, because he understood. He left the Doctor alone with you and Yaz, once again staring into the depths of the fire with unreadable eyes while her hands remained as they were, draped protectively over you both. Keeping you to her. When you woke a while later, for a moment you thought she had gone. Then you heard the soft sounds of murmured voices and stifled weeping. You opened your eyes slowly, forgetting for a moment where you were or why there was such a heavy, cold weight in your gut. Then you remembered. You lifted your head and blinked blearily. The fire had died down to sullen embers, and the light in the room was muted, somber. You realized eventually that you were looking at the back of the Doctor’s head, and she was sitting on the floor cross-legged next to Yaz. “-nothing to be ashamed of,” the Doctor was saying. Yaz wiped almost angrily at her face, and you realized she had been the source of weeping. “I’m not,” Yaz said, her voice low and miserable. “Or- well, maybe I am. I mean, I have training for this kind of thing. Trauma and violence, and that sort-” “Training isn’t meant to produce apathy,” the Doctor interrupted firmly. “Training means you can still act and handle yourself in a tense situation, not that you’re unaffected by it, especially after.” “Well, yes but-” “And,” the Doctor continued, slightly louder, “I doubt training for the Sheffield police covers intergalactic warfare, hm? More parking tickets, fewer bio-morphic super-weapons, possibly?” Yaz smiled despite herself and ducked her head. “You did brilliantly,” the Doctor added, quieter. “That was-” she hesitated. “Horrible,” Yaz whispered, and the Doctor reached over, grabbed her hand. “Yes.” There was a lengthy silence, and though you couldn’t see the Doctor’s face, you could see when she took in a deep breath and tensed her shoulders before speaking again. “I can take you home,” the Time Lord said softly, as if the words didn’t tear at her as they left her mouth. But even you could see how rigidly she held herself. “If you want-” “NO!” The Doctor actually winced as you and Yaz both shouted at the same time, turning to look at you with a scrunched nose as you shoved yourself upright with your good arm. “No,” you repeated. “Absolutely not,” Yaz added, and despite the recent tears her voice was steady. The Doctor looked between the two of you. Her expression was serious, determined; she fully intended to take you and Yaz home if asked. But you could see the burgeoning hope in her eyes. The relief.  “I can’t promise that this is the last time,” she warned. “It could happen again. It probably will. I would understand if you wanted to go home-” “We said no,” Yaz interrupted. She was still holding the Doctor’s hand, and you slid stiffly off the sofa so that you could crouch on the Doctor’s other side and grab that hand too. “We are home,” you said. You might have tilted your head, gestured at the room. But your eyes remained steady on the two women. Home. “But-” “We are home,” Yaz repeated, firmly. “We’re a fam, right?” The Doctor was uncharacteristically silent as she looked from Yaz to you, then down at the chain made by your linked hands. You saw her throat move as she swallowed. You met Yaz’s eyes, and then the two of you leaned over and enveloped the Doctor in an embrace. Your face rested somewhere between the Doctor’s neck and shoulder, and you could feel the delicate flutter of her pulse (as well as Yaz’s hair tickling your nose). It wasn’t even remotely comfortable, that embrace. You were all of you stiff (injured, exhausted) and your arms and legs met in a lumpy, disorganized, awkward jumble. And you wouldn’t trade it for the world. Yours, or any of the others you and seen, any you had yet to see. This was home. The three of you remained that way for several quiet, fragile moments. Even the Doctor was silent, and you could feel the hitch in her breaths. It might have been from the smoke inhalation, from her injury… but you didn’t think so. You could still feel her rapid pulse, could still feel her hand gripping yours so tightly. Could still remember the fear in her eyes when she spoke of leaving you... and the relief when you refused. Several moments of fragile silence, that stretched into the shadowed corners of the room and to the stars beyond. Then you felt the Doctor stiffen, as if remembering something. Her chest rose as words made their way to her mouth, and some sliver of premonition (or perhaps more accurately, past experiences) made your lips twitch into the beginnings of a smile before her words were fully formed. “How do you lot keep ending up on the floor?! There’s furniture, proper furniture, and yet once again I find you like this- funny, is it?” the last words were delivered to Yaz, who had begun to giggle. It was infectious, and you began to as well, you face still pressed against the Doctor’s neck. “You two started it,” you pointed out, your voice somewhat muffled. “No, Yaz started it,” the Doctor said automatically, as if scoring a point. Yaz lifted her head and gave her a dirty look. “I- hey! It’s not like either of you had to join me-” “But you did start it,” you replied, giggling again in response to Yaz’s indignant sputter. “That’s- hang on, you started it! Back in your room!” “Well, then you’re both copy-cats who have no one to blame but yourselves,” you said loftily, and were rewarded when both women made sounds of outrage. It only made you laugh harder, especially when an exasperated Doctor tried in a grand gesture to stand up, but utterly failed to escape the tangled embrace. Eventually the noise attracted Ryan and Graham, who poked their heads cautiously into the room. The apprehension that had lined their faces shifted into confusion, and ended up somewhere between amusement and exasperation. “They’re mad,” Graham observed, absently taking a bite out of sandwich that Ryan didn’t care to guess the contents of. Ryan was silent as he watched for a moment longer, taking in the gasping, arguing, laughing pile that was the three of you. Your arms were still entwined, and Yaz had her head thrown back against the couch as she giggled. The Doctor was still making an effort at standing (and was unsurprisingly in the midst of delivering what appeared to be a lecture, though it was largely undercut by the amused curve of her lips) but was thwarted, both by Yaz’s entangled legs, and by her coat which had slipped off the soft to drape across all three of you- indeed, your face was completely covered by it, and Ryan could only hear muffled sounds of laughter and protest coming from beneath it. “Reckon so,” he said finally. Graham noted with some surprise that he was smiling. “C’mon, let’s leave them be. They’ll be fine.” And he was right.  It would take time, of course. All things do. But you all had each other. You were, after all, a fam. You would be fine. There was still so much of the universe to see.

[saucerfulofsins]

You okay? What happened with your friends?

Someone sent a meme type photo about putting LSD in a water gun to spray on the police. I may be in Europe but obviously this is about America?

Anyway, apparently saying I’d donate to support that (because LSD won’t kill in terms of overdosis) makes me a terrible horrible human being. I’ve had to take them making racist jokes. I’ve had to see these same guys making jokes about sexual abuse. But suddenly I’m the mean person with this “plan”?

They’ve defended Trump, they’ve defended the American police (”no one deserves a psychosis” honestly if you don’t already think these people who shoot PoC are psychotic you’re insane yourself) and right now they’re accusing me of speaking from EMOTION and therefore not being rational.

So, yeah. It fucking sucks. I’ve had no friends for fucking years, I used to have two main friend groups and lost the other group some time last year also for being assholes (although more on a personal level) but I’m done with this fucking bullshit. Holy fucking hell. I’ll find new friends, I’m not willing to deal with people tell me that I’m as bad as the American police for saying that LSD would be a HYPOTHETICAL good and effective way of shutting them down.

Like. No, I don’t like my Tumblr being political. I don’t reblog. I don’t care what people fucking think of me if I don’t reblog, and I’m white and like. Y’know.

But I’m not gonna sit here and listen to a bunch of cishet/bi asshats talk like they’re right just cause they’ve got mates supporting them, and pretend like I’m this evil fucking bitch when they haven’t said a single god damn WORD about what is happening in America? Under the claim that “but I assumed that disagreeing with their police is the default!”

Yeah. Well. At this point I sure as fucking hell am hoping for a full-scale revolution (if not a civil war and I’m hella supporting the PoC here). People have tried this riot-less. It doesn’t work. It’s not gonna happen. And I’ve said violence isn’t the answer to microaggressions, which I still believe, but killing people? That isn’t a fucking microaggression. Fucking hell.

[friedwizardwhispers]

Your feelings about comparison between Furuba manga and anime are justified and valid don’t feel bad about expressing your opinions and criticism.

We manga readers are beyond happy to finally have it all animated but (some of us at least) don’t put anime on pedestal and are truthful about it’s flaws.

And it pisses me off when anime only people or anybody else really attack us for it and just want us to shut up like season 3 isn’t disappointing.... but we have every right to say we are sad because they gave us hope about EVERYTHING being animated now they are cutting it short and skipping important scenes. I just don’t get it. If this were the plan all along, 13 ep - why not hurry up in season 1 or 2 already and not dragging it. Season 3 is the most emotional and important yet it is just done in a horrible way.

Why Motoko, random people and some scenes that make no sense can make it to the anime, yet not Tohru (she was done so dirty, her whole growth in just one ep???? ), skipping Kyoru scenes from the start, but we were mostly quiet. Now Yuki and Machi make no sense because they just cut their slow development off. Probably Kakeru and his gif won’t make it too. And rip Kyoko, while some dont want Katsuya animated because it disturbes them, well its a part of the story and well its who Kyoko was. Life too is not all right but we don’t cancel people even if they are morally grey, do bad things.... love who they love. Im sorry to hear people are disturbed by their relationship but oh how do they deal with life then... stories are supposed to show characters like this lmao.

Hope u have a great day and just so u know, your blog is awesome :)

Okay this is really sweet. Thank you so much for the ask.

I agree that people shoud be able to say or write whatever they want (as long as we don't cross the line of attacking other people for a work of fiction).

If you are the tagging type, maybe just tag it because other people visit the tags and if they want to block it, it's easier that way, To be fair, I didn't do that and that's on me. I didn't think the occasional posts about some adaptation choices would be enough to make people think I'm hate-watching the show.

I agree with you when you said that if they knew how many episodes they had from the begining, there were things they could have cut like the Mokoto stuff (I really hate the Mokoto stuff, I HATE it, they adapted that instead of sexual tension and I'm forever bitter) or the horror house in season 2 (although I really loved to see it animated), I also think it's completely valid to be disapointed when we were promised a full adaptation and then we don't get it.

Plus, the adaptation just said Fuck off Yuchi and kinda took away a lot of Kyoru moments from the begining that I wish was there (the sexual tension and Kyo's apology after true form are two scenes that comes to mind)

Also Tohru's arc really got screwed over and I really have an issue with the main female character getting shafted (especially considering Tohru is my favorite character) and instead of getting the Tohru season we were supposed to get, we get the Tohru episode.

I do want to defend the anime though,

Again your disapointment is entirely valid, and I'm really not trying to dismiss that but for me, the anime is still a good adaptation (I might be biased because I lived through the disapointment that was the promised Neverland season 2 and fruits basket 2019 will never reach that level of just BAD *shudder*)

We are still in the middle of a pandemic and we have no idea how that impacted fruits basket and we don't know if we were supposed to get 13 episodes of season 3 from the begining (I think we were personally but we don't know).

Plus the episodes we did get animated have been mostly bangers this season. I never cried before while watching the anime before (the manga made me cry several time before) but I cried twice this season already. It means they are maybe doing some things right at least ? I think they might be doing theirs best with what they have and personally I'm still happy to see some of the scenes I want to see animated and done well (except for the whole Yeeting people everywhere).

For Kakeru's gf arc, I do like it in the manga and I do like how it ties to Tohru's grief but I don't mind it that much because that felt more planned than the other cuts since they reduced the hints that Kakeru knew Tohru from somewhere since season 2 so I guess, I was prepared (also I'm just gonna continue shipping Yukeru in the anime even more).

On the Kyoko front, I think it's complicated. I genuinely don't like Kazuya and I absolutely understand why people didn't want to see it and to be honest, avoiding The teacher/middle schooler relationship in a series where there are a lot of inapropriate age difference was a good idea, but I do think he and her backstory brought something more to Tohru's story and added so much to the advice Kyoko gave to Uo and Kyo and just characterise Kyoko even more. Also Baby!Tohru. Just Baby Tohru.

Again thank you for the ask. That was so sweet !! made my day.

[goth-girlfriend]

GIF originally posted by Demigodxtonio

Pairing:

Enji Todorki/ Endeavor x Student areader

Summary:

After the sports festival you spend a week with the man who’s company accidentally sent you a request.

Notes: No fluff or Smut, slight ooc

Part: 1/?

🖤💙❤️🔥❤️🔥❤️🔥❤️🔥❤️🔥❤️🔥❤️💙🖤

“Hey, Todoroki.” I looked at the split haired boy.

We recently become, friends? He doesn’t do much talking rather then listening and staring.

“Hm?” He hummed his answer back.

“How tough is your dad?” I asked pulling my long sleeves into the center of my palms.

“If your not up to his standards he will break you down and remold you in a way that leave you feeling empty for his own sick pleasure of being able to take down the number one hero.” Todoroki kept a straight face but his voice was colder.

“Okay then.” I nodded and kept following. “Why didn’t you stop me when I said I wanted to take this offer?”

“The thought of being alone with my own father was unbearable. With the company of someone I know and am comfortable with, I thought it would be easier.” He didn’t look at me.

May heart warmed, the company of someone he’s comfortable with, usually he just refers to me as someone he knows. I smiled, and looked down.

“Honestly I don’t think he wanted me, It was probably some mistake.” I shrugged.

“So are you sure your okay with my crush on your dad and being this close?” I asked nudging his shoulder with my own.

He let out the friendly version of a scoff, “Just don’t do anything weird when I’m around.”

He nudged me back and I grinned, “Got it, keep the weirdness of the down low.”

We stopped in he shadow of a large building.

“It’s huge,” I felt a familiar line coming, “Sure it’s big enough, but just look at the location.”

I laughed at my reference, Shoto let out like two laughs before he gave me a look.

“Oh right, no weirdness got it.” I coughed to clear my throat.

“We should watch another DreamWorks or Pixar movie. Or like go to Univesal, I’ve only ever been to the one in Florida, and I live in Japan you would think this would be the Universal I got to but no.” I talked to Todorki.

He nodded not really listening but taking it in. Then, we entered the Lobby. There he was, all six foot four and two hundred and forty pounds of daddy.

“Shoto.” He greeted his son.

“You must be (L/n),” he eyes me, I felt nervous but if it showed he’d probably shun me.

So instead I took a deep breath, stood straight and puffed out my chest. I looked him dead in the eye and did a quick bow.

“Yes Sir, I’m (Y/n) (L/n) of Class 1-A” I held my breath, if I die, it’s because he rejected me.

“Well, you know how to present yourself at least.” He scoffed and turned around.

I sighed and deflated, I looked at Todoroki, he had a faint smile but nodded at me.

“I’ll just follow you.” I sighed catching my breath.

“Yeah, you did better then what others have done. They think submission is the way to go. No one understands that to work here you need to be assertive but respectful...” Shoto said looking down.

“Why would you want a coward for a Hero?” I asked out my left hand on his right shoulder. “Also it’s probably a bad time but I’m hungry.”

I whispered the last part hoping Endeavor wouldn’t hear me.

The day passed quickly, we learned what we’d be doing. I’d go on patrols with whatever hero I could, and do coffee runs for the office. I mean I didn’t work myself to the bone to be a secretary. Endeavor took Shoto away so I wouldn’t even have anyone to talk to. I huffed and made my way to the elevator.

“Stupid coffee, stupid card, stupid barista, stupid man who bumped into me and made me go back to buy more coffee.” I mumbled and stepped into the elevator.

My phone rang, “Hello?” I asked.

“Yes, (y/n)?” It was the secretary from the floor Endeavor was on.

“Yes, how can I help you?” I asked the same line over and over.

“The meeting is about to begin, do you have the coffee and breads?”

“YES,” I seethed through my teeth aggravated as the elevator stopped and no one was there.

“I’m coming up right now.” I spoke through clenched teeth.

“Alright, thank you.” She spoke.

“ITS YOUR JOBS TO GET COFFEE AND RUN ORDERS NOT MINE KAREN! IM A STUDENT WHO IS SUPPOSED TO LEARN ABOUT THE HERO WOLRD NOT BE A STUPID SECRETARIES ASSISTANT!”

I stripped my cloak off, revealing the mesh bodysuit I wore under leggings, and the other things I wore. I tightened the black strips of fabric around my wrist and began fidgeting.

“You’re late.” Endeavors message Pushed it.

I rushed out of the elevator and to the secretaries desk, “Do your job you lazy scum I shouldn’t have to run coffee and bread and papers back and forth, I’m on an internship you get paid to do this I’m not here to do your job I’m here to learn what being a hero is like.”

I slapped my cloak onto her desk, the coffee splashed onto her crisp white shirt and stained her papers. I turned and rushed down the hall to the meeting room. I shoved the door open and gently placed the coffee and bread on the table. I turned to Endeavor, he seemed aggravated at my disturbance.

“Sir, you look aggravated,” I played and stepped in his direction, “Maybe you should take a break.”

I faked worry, Todoroki was staring at me and whoever was at the other end of the table was staring.

“Maybe you should take a break, it’s what I do when I’m aggravated.” I looked at him, anger emitting from him.

I sat on the table, “I mean, today, I’ve taken it all, someone’s wrong breakfast order, all over the back on my cloak, four cups of hot coffee to my chest and stomach. A perverted man harassing and then groping me when I was running papers for your secretary.”

I crossed my right leg over my left leg, “Every patrol opportunity I was given, has been cancelled, or I was told I was not allowed to go.”

I looked at to my left, there sat the guest, I smiled and nodded. It was hawks.

“Hello, hope your having a good day, would you like some bread?” I offered the bag.

He took it and offered some to Tokoyami.

“Also, I have gained little to no experience, I have five days to learn something, and so far everyone who works here acts like they hate me, and honestly I’m starting to hate it here.” I smiled at Endeavor.

“So, I quit.” I tossed my tag at him.

He caught it with one hand, he watched me as I slid off the table.

I walked to the door, “Make sure Karen or whoever knows how you like your coffee, God forbid she have to run back to the coffeeshop five times in an hour.” I snarled and slammed the door open.

I walked out before I heard laughing, And then a growl. I took the stairs and rolled my eyes, I’ll just call Aizawa and study under him if it comes to it. I’ll even take Present if it comes to it. Making to the lobby I looked down at my phone. I opened it to call the contact number Aizawa gave us, just as I went to push call my phone was snatched. I looked up to meet golden eyes and glasses.

“Your boss is looking for you babe, better go back.” He laughed and his red wings flared slightly.

I stared at them, “nice wings, be a shame to lose them.” I said and ‘reached’ for my phone.

He pulled his hand back and left me and opening, between his shoulder and neck I reached right over and touch his wings. His eyes widened as his wings closed to his back.

And some sprouted from my own back with sick cracks.

“What did you do?” He asked.

“Give it an hour, you’ll be fine.” I shrugged and took my phone out of his hand.

“She is able to permanently copy quirks of others if she can touch it physically. It leaves her opponent at a disadvantage of not being to use their own quirk for a certain amount of time.” Tokoyami said and stepped around.

“Must be nice having a chill guy for a boss.” I told Tokoyami.

He sighed and closed his eyes.

“Hey, Get back here I don’t wanna do this alone.” -❄️🔥

I sighed and turned around to the elevator, “Todoroki needs help.”

👌- ☀️🖤

I got into the elevator and headed back up. Todoroki was outside his dads office, I haven’t even been in there.

He had a huge smile on his face, I pouted.

“I wanna go home.” I smacked my head into the closest wall.

“Yeah, no. He wants to talk to you so have fun.” Todoroki opened the door and waited for you to go.

“Come with me.” You whispered.

“Ok.” So you took a deep breath and walked in, only to hear.

“Yeet.” And the door closing.

Did, Shoto just yeet?

I looked up, Endeavor was standing in a window, the sun casting its glow over him. He was taking out over the city. It’s a sight I’d like to enjoy if I weren’t so aggravated.

“Sit down, we have a lot to discuss.” His voice tumbled and I sighed.

“Alright.” I was tired of taking orders, he didn’t specify what seat so I took his desk chair and turned in it to face him.

“What?” I asked.

He turned to me, and with a very hard stare told me to get out of his seat. I sighed and got up and stood by his desk.

“Why are you upset, you embarrassed me and my agency in front of guests.” He said and sat down, his legs spread a bit for comfort.

“Well Incase you didn’t understand, I’m just a secretary. I didn’t come here to be a secretary.” I sassed looking at him.

“I see,” he turned him his chair towards me.

“Come here.” He pointed in-front of his lap.

I flushed and hesitated, but walked over.

“Get on your knees.”

I dropped and looked down I couldn’t stand the embarrassment.

“Give me your hand.” I prepared my self for lewd actions.

I flinched feeling a burning sensation as a loud smack filled the room. I looked up at him tears in my eyes from the pain. He held a thick flat stick. It resembled a ruler, he placed it on his desk.

“Stand up,” I stood and tried not to flinch.

“Your going to wait here while I rearrange the schedule.” I nodded and turned to go Alejandro the desk.

“I said wait here.” He grabbed my wrist and pulled me down into his lap.

I was burning, this is embarrassing. He leaned foreword, his arms came around my shoulders and his chin on my shoulder. I watched him move papers and write down a few things. It was hot, Why was I so nervous. There’s no way this is real right?

Sitting in the lap of the number two hero, my crush, best friends dad in his office at his agency? I let out a breath I didn’t know I was holding.

Well things didn’t get worse, but they got slightly better.

✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

Support a Small business

[lgbtqpixelart]

if you want this url for non-pokemon pixelart lmk

also if i use a flag by an asshole absolutely let me know, especially if you requested it

hi ^^

i make those for fun while listening to uni stuff, so just take them and use them for whatever tbh

i do take requests ^^

you could request a flag to be done, or a pokemon to be done, or other pixel art (tho i’d appreciate a blank form of the latter or even better one with colours so i know what im working with ^^ )

update: tag system

(oh btw if you see an error or mistake in something like a shading not being the darker colour or me forgetting to change one colour or something just lmk, my eyes are kinda shit lmao)

i make sprites now instead of pixelart, yeet (can still do pixelart tho if you want)

pixel art i’ve already done or am currently doing or have planned would be too much for the pinned post, but i might do separate posts and link them later, so i'll just keep the cut and the category names but there's nothing there

(well now i moved old portions of this post there so there's not a huge pinned post cause oof)

already done

requests

am currently working on: (okay honestly lmao if i start working on them i either finish them immediately or they got lost in the void that is my mind and never will be finished so why bother listing them kdsfjg)

requests: (okay honestly i do these like the moment i get them lmao i love requests i don't get too many)

...

i am

far too lazy to make these lists rn sorry dskfjlg

---

old portions of this post i wanna cut but don't wanna cut lmao:

if you need a single charmander or whatever i did lmk i can copy it from my file it'll probably be better than cropping the image i upload (edit: this only goes for like the first four or five i did cause those were all in one file, now i upload them individually anyways, hence why i moved it below the cut lol)

UPDATE: i can now make transparent ones and it has gotten way easier and faster to do them for me cause i found a neat af site and i can make basically any existing pokemon sprite (i can also make them be pixel art like the first charmanders, but im going to work with sprites much more from now on i think cause now i can do those and they're easier than the pixel art rn)

[just-random-obsessions]

Funny Moments In Thor The Dark World

Find Thor 1 here

Find Avengers 1 here

This is the second part of me watching all three thor movies and the avengers movie and comparing the humor pre-ragnarok to the humor in the 3rd Thor movie. And, as before, I’m writing this on my computer where the I and U keys don’t work so sorry for any spelling mistakes.

Tag List: @nikkoliferous @fyrecrafted @lokijiro @miskiett @darthxerik @icyxmischief @iamanartichoke @juliabohemian @official-and-unstable-satan @melodylnoelle @just-another-human-2019 @fandomsfanfiction @mentallydatingahotcelebrity @cateyes315 @burningarbiterheart @imnotacreepijustlikeyou @usedtobegoodfriend96 @alexakeyloveloki

Official-and-unstable-satan and fandomsfanfiction weren’t tagged sry

Anyone who wants to be added/removed to the tag list please let me know! and if I missed someone please also let me know. Sorry this post is so long

~ “Hello Mother. Have I made you proud?”

~ “Please don’t make things worse” “Define worse”

~ “I really don’t see what all the fuss is about”

~ “Just like you”

~ *That smile!!!!*

~ “I’ve got this completely under control!” “Is that why everything’s on fire?”

~ *About the Scary MonsterTM: “All yours”

~ *Thor says hi to the Big Scary MonsterTM*

~ “I accept your surrender”

~ “Anyone else?” *All the people simultaneously: NOPE*

~ “Perhaps next time we should START with the big one”

~ *Odin obviously shipping Thor and Jane* (idk I got a kick out of this)

~ *Jane awkwardly avoiding her date*

~ *Date: hi*

~ *Him awkwardly talking about his ex*

~ “And the fact that she kept sleeping with other men” “NO!”

~ *Darcy being mistaken for a waitress*

~ *Darcy mouthing “Cute” to Jane about Richard*

~ *Darcy embarrassing Jane by talking about Thor*

~ “Is there a point to all of this cause there REALLY needs to be a point to all of this”

~ “That’s what I said!”

~ “That’s what I did!”

~ “He’s not interested” “I’m interested” (Am I the only one who feels like his awkwardness was actually kinda cute?)

~ “He’s my intern.” “You have an intern?”

~ *Intern is fucking adorable like Richard*

~ “I have totally mastered driving in London!” *Has not mastered it at all*

~ *Selvig running around Stonehenge naked*

~ *Darcy keeps calling Ian ‘Intern’*

~ *Darcy calls Jane cause she didn’t wanna shout*

~ God I fucking love Darcy she’s so criminally underrated

~ “I am not getting stabbed in the name of science”

~ “It’s okay, we’re Americans!” “Is that supposed to make them like us?”

~ “We’re scientists-well I am” “Thanks”

~ “That doesn’t seem right”

~ “I wanna throw something! Jane give me your shoe!”

~ *Jane ignores Darcy*

~ “Give me your shoe”

~ “Were those the car keys?”

~ *Ian’s face when he realizes he threw the car keys to another planet*

~ *If you have to bury so many people then you’re doing something wrong you hot dumb fuck* (I mean that’s basically what Heimdall said right?)

~ “Typical” *after being left behind while Jane goes to talk to her boyfriend*

~ *Jane! Love of my life and most talented and beautiful person in the world oh how I love yo-SLAP*

~ “As excuses go, its not terrible”

~ “I know” “You do?” “Do what?”

~ *Darcy interrupts the KissTM*

~ “Um I’m pretty sure we are getting arrested”

~ “How’s space?” “Space is fine”

~ “He’s my intern… My intern’s intern”

~ “Holy shit!” (after Jane went up in the Bifrost)

~ *Heimdall calmly dodges the car*

~ “We have to do that again”

~ “Hello”

~ “What’s that?”

~ “It’s a soul forge” *No I’m pretty sure that’s a quantum field generator*

~ *Jane being ready to fight Odin for comparing her to a goat*

~ “You told your dad about me?”

~ “It must be so inconvenient, them asking about me day and night”

~ “Please meet my mother” *Jane shies away from Thor*

~ Loki casually tossing the thingamajig in the air like the cute little shit he is

~ Lord, he’s so damn pretty

~ *Kurse being like: Lol I ain’t touchin’ that boy with a ten foot pole*

~ “It’s as if they resent being in prison”

~ “There’s no pleasing some creatures”

~ *Loki calmly reading a book while all Hel breaks loose*

~ “You have my word that no harm will come to yo-” nvm bitch die

~ *THAT look between Sif and Jane*

~ *Frigga immediately seeing through Odin’s bs lies*

~ *Heimdall: I have defeated the big space ship!! The bigger one behind him: Bitch you thought*

~ “WITCH!!!!” *Now I know who Loki gets his amazing aforementioned smile from*

~ *Selvig using shoes to explain complicated science*

~ *Selvig then using pencils*

~ “Any questions?” “Yeah, can I have my shoe back?”

~ “What’s SHIELD?” “It’s a secret”

~ *Darcy’s cute af face when she sees that Selvig is in the mental hospital*

~ “Are you sure you wouldn’t just rather punch your way out?”

~ *Loki shapeshifting into the guard*

~ “Mmm Brother, you look ravishing”

~ “Costumes a bit much”

~ “So tight!”

~ “I can FEEL the righteousness surging!!”

~ “HEY wanna have a rousing discussion about truth?”

~ “Honor?”

~ “Patriotism?”

~ “GOD BLESS AMERICA!”

~ “At last. A little common sens-”Bitch are you really fucking kidding me? (What do you mean that’s not what he said?)

~ “I thought you liked tricks”

~ “I’m Loki, you may have heard of-” SLAP

~ “That was for New York”

~ “I like her”

~ *Loki gazing lovingly at Jane in the background*

~ “Betray him, and I’ll kill you.” “It’s good to see you too Sif”

~ “If you even think about betraying him-” “You’ll kill me? Evidently there will be a line”

~ “I thought you said you knew how to fly this thing.” “I said how hard can it be?”

~ “Whatever your doing brother I suggest you do it faster.” “Shut up Loki

~ “You must’ve missed something.” “I didn’t, I’m pressing every button on this thing”

~ “Well don’t hit it. Just press it, gently.” “I aM pReSsInG iT gEnTlY AND ITS NOT WORKING!!!”

~ *Thor starts slamming buttons and it starts working*

~ *Volstagg: Oh fighting is much fun- OH SHIT IM FALLING!! HELP!!!*

~ “I think you missed a column.” “Shut up”

~ “Why don’t you let me take over? I’m clearly the best pilot”

~ *Bitch I’m the one who can actually fly*

~ “Oh dear. Is she dead?”

~ *Thor knocks over a column* “Not a word”

~ “Now they’re following us”

~ “Now they’re firing at us”

~ “Yes thank you for the commentary Loki, it’s not at all distracting”

~ “Well done, you just decapitated your grandfather”

~ *Seriously, whoever wrote the escape scene is a genius!!!*

~ *Loki yelling at Thor about how thIs was a bad idea you dumb fuck- wait wtf are you doing AAAAHHHHH!!!!1*

~ “You lied to me. I’m impressed”

~ *That smile again snfnejaihfeqrqrsbdsalxdjewonjfeq*

~ “For Asgard!” YEET

~ “Nothing personal boys!”

~ “If it were easy, everyone would do it”

~ “Are you mad?” “Possibly”

~ “TADAAA”

~ “Oh yeah, my father. Eric Selvig”

~ “And these” “yeah… those”

~ “How did you find me?” “You were naked on television”

~ “I don’t get paid enough. I don’t get paid at all”

~ “What’s happening? Birds? Birds are happening?”

~ “All right are you ready?” “I am”

~ *phone rings* “It’s not me”

~ “Why are there so many shoes in here?”

~ “I’ll just text her”

~ “So who’s Richard?”

~ *Thor hanging his hammer on a coat hanger*

~ “Where are your pants?” “Oh he says it helps him think”

~ “Loki is dead” “Oh thank God!”

~ “Better get my pants”

~ “Do you even know what these things do?” “No” “…Neither do I”

~ “Ooh get the guy with the sword!”

~ “Oops”

~ *Ian’s high-pitched scream*

~ *Does car insurance cover My Car Was Sucked Into Another Planet Due To A Cosmic Event That Only Occurs Once Every 5000 Years or no?*

~ *Thor and Malekith fighting between worlds and poor little Mjolnir trying to keep up*

~ *The two of them against windows*

~ *AAAHHH*

~ *Awww! Look at the cute little Jotunheim monster! He’s so adorable I wanna pet him so much!’

~ *Darcy and Ian kissing after he saved her life*

~ “Darcy?” “Jane!” “Ian?” “Selvig.”

~ “Myuh Myuh!!”

~ *Thor ends up on the subway*

~ *The girl taking 50 photos*

~ *Thor and the woman colliding into eachother*

~ “I’ve come to accept your surrender”

~ *Malekith gets crushed by his own ship. Now that’s some lovely karma right there*

~ *Darcy and Ian go back to kissing*

~ “He kinda committed treason on our way out” oops

~ Jotunheim Puppy chasing birds

Wow I’m so sorry this was so long. But guess what? It’s gonna get even longer. Sorry, again.

So one of the differences between the first and second Thor movies is that Thor 2 has humor in the climax whereas Thor 1 doesn’t. This is because of the differences with who is the villain. In Thor 1, Thor is having to fight his brother. To quote Avengers, they “played together and fought together” for several millennia. Of course there’s not going to be any humor in it cause there shouldn’t be. The climax at the end of the movie isn’t supposed to be some epic battle between the forces of Good TM and Bad TM. It’s supposed to be tragic that he’s having to fight his own brother because Loki lost his mind due to so many factors. The last joke in the film is “You’re an amazon liar brother, always have been” “It’s good to have you back”. There’s nothing else till the end credit scene. That’s because Kenneth Branagh knew that this was supposed to be viewed at as being sad a hopeless, not some awesome upbeat battle.

Thor 2 on the other hand, is exactly that. Thor has known Malekith for.. what? 2 days? Maybe 3? His relationship and dynamic with Malekith is different than with his brother. To Thor, this is just another enemy attacking Asgard. And I’m not sure whether this was intentional or not (because I remember reading somewhere how Allen Taylor had a bitch of a time in the editing process so I think the movie came out different than he intended) but the lack of any personal relationship will Malekith means the film can make really funny jokes and still have it fit with the film. If anything, I might even argue that the humor helped the film to maintain a very nice positive vibe. Idk I can’t think of the right words to explain it but the jokes actually fit the film very well.

However, then we move on to Ragnarok. With Ragnarok, Thor is fighting his sister. While (just like Malekith) he has only known her for two days, that still doesn’t take away the fact that he is having to fight his sibling. And I’m not a film director but if I had the option of approaching this situation and taking it the Thor 1 route or the the Thor 2 route, I’d go with Thor 1. Because it’s actually incredibly tragic that Hela has been driven to insanity like Loki (though ok a different level) due to Odin’s shitty parenting. She is the horrible way she is because Odin made her that way. And that could’ve been an AMAZINGLY complex story with the audience feeling so much sympathy for Hela like we did with Loki in Thor 1, but the narrative just falls flat for two reasons. 1) Taika admitted he didn’t want the film to be emotionally complex so 2) The humor in the climax completely detracts from the seriousness of the situation.

Also, some side notes: Yes, this is edited from the original. I accidentally deleted everything and then had to go back and add everything back in. So I also had to re-tag people too. And I also added a bit more explanation at the end. I meant to do so when I originally posted but it never got done till now. Sry. Also sry that it’s so long

[syekick-powers]

rambling about emotions and self-control

i think one of the things that pisses me off the most when family members criticize me is when they say that i’m “bad at controlling my emotions”. first of all, I have ADHD and bipolar simultaneously, my emotions are a hundred times fucking stronger than yours. secondly, i am actually excellent at controlling my emotions. i am the kind of person where if i am having a panic attack, you might not have any fucking clue that i’m even having anxiety unless i state directly that im having a panic attack. ive had PAs so bad where i legit thought i was about to die and not a single shred of that world-ending panic touched my external affect for a second. part of my fucking trauma revolves around having to hide my distress to avoid freaking out other people, which means that i learned to develop a diamond fucking grip on my external signs of distress. it’s deeply maladaptive in some situations, but in other situations it’s equally as useful. and yet because i am very animated and exaggerated in my persona, people assume that i just let my emotions fountain everywhere uncontrollably and that i’m just a waterfall of feelings.

incorrect. every bit of exaggeration in my affect is deliberate. i am not acting like a clown because i can’t control myself, i am purposefully choosing to exaggerate to convey my feelings more effectively. if i don’t want you to know what i’m feeling, you will never ever ever find out. there are some people i interact with on a regular basis whomst i fucking loathe deeply, and yet any time i interact with them i am completely personable and friendly. when im streaming video games on a high difficulty and get frustrated from having to do the same part over and over and over again, i never get tilted on stream. i dont yell or rage, and in fact the more frustrated i become the more blank and expressionless my affect turns. when i was playing dead space 2 on zealot difficulty on stream recently, all of my viewers were complimenting the fact that i spent at least two collective hours on trying to beat the final boss and yet still did not get visibly upset or pissed off once.

yes, my emotions are strong. i have two separate disorders that both have “emotional dysregulation” as some of their biggest negative side effects. my bad moods feel like a fucking firestorm most of the time and strong emotions are very difficult to handle and control. sometimes, my emotions get the better of me and i snap or get irritable. but the only time i’m irritable is when i feel physically and emotionally like utter dogshit and the bad mood impacts my ability to hold back my emotions. the truth is that in my day to day life there are dozens of fucking things that irritate the living hell out of me and i choose to discard my frustration rather than stay mad about something trivial--either that, or i feel the frustration intensely, but bite it back and don’t say anything because i’m not in the mood to pick a fight. if i’m being pissy with you, it’s because i’m completely fuck-out of all mental and physical energy that i would otherwise use to hold back my irritation. there is nothing left to burn. there aren’t even fumes in the tank. this bitch empty, so prepare for the yeet.

the problem that i run into with my family members is that this internal struggle to contain my emotions is completely invisible to any external viewers. they’re not me, of course they can’t see what’s going on in my head. what makes that an issue is that they don’t see the twenty fucking times i got irritated and managed to control my temper through the frustration, they only see the five or so times i lose control. my efforts are invisible to everyone around me, so when i finally do get fed up and make a snippy comment or complain, it seems like i just let my emotions get the better of me all the time.

to be fuckening honest, if the people who criticized me lived one fucking day in my shoes, the extremity of my emotions would exhaust them within hours. the thing is, i’m 25 fucking years old, which means i’ve lived with this shit for over two fucking decades. i have learned to control myself to an extent, and, being honest with yall? it fucking exhausts the living shit out of me all the goddamn time. it’s like my brain expends all my mental fuel reserves on overclocking my emotions as hard as possible while leaving no fuel left over for activities in the day that i actually need to do. it’s part of the reason i’m so fuckdamn tired all the fuckdamn time. but i’m not bad at controlling my emotions when i actually have the energy to do so. in fact, i’m so good at suppressing them that half the time, people don’t know i’m upset at all. to a certain extent, i’ve gotten used to how extreme my emotions are, and have started learning to predict what sets me off so i can make an effort to avoid the negative stimulus and save myself the frustration. i’m just really fucking tired of people accusing me of not controlling my emotions well enough when god fucking damnit you have no idea how hard i’m actually fucking trying!!! it feels like i’ve gotten so good at hiding my distress in my day-to-day life that now people have no fucking idea how shitty i actually feel until they poke me one too many times and i fucking bite their finger off, and then assume that i just randomly blew up on them with no reason or justification. that i’m just behaving like this to spite them personally.

i promise you im not fucking behaving randomly. in fact, my frustration triggers are actually pretty fucking consistent. the same bullshit behaviors will always piss me off; what changes on a day-to-day basis is how well i control the extremity of my reaction. if i’m having a good day, i have enough fuel stores to go “meh, whatever” and brush it off without being too bothered for very long. if i feel like shit, my ability to control my response is hampered and it becomes much harder to bite back a snippy comment. i’m not lashing out to be malicious or spiteful. i’m lashing out because you’ve been doing this shit every day for the past two fucking weeks and today i’m just too tired to deal with this fucking bullshit anymore. my reaction is not a sudden unprovoked blowing up of a bomb. it’s “you poked the caged animal one too many times and now it’s going to fucking bite you to make you stop because it has no other way to express its frustration”.

i try to be clear and concise with my boundaries, and frankly i don’t think they’re all that unreasonable. i like to be able to decide when and how i do a task on my own time rather than being pushed and pulled and jabbed and pressured every step of the way. i like to be able to have my own space where people have to get my permission before entering suddenly so that i feel like i have a safe place to hide when i’m overstimulated. i like to decide when and where i want to engage in socialization, and for how long. i like being able to decide when i’m ready to do a task, rather than having a task suddenly shoved on me with no warning or being pressured to do it before i’m ready. i do not like being gifted objects i did not request (and often actively requested not to get) and then being expected to be grateful for something i didnt even want in the first place. i don’t like gifts coming with invisible price tags and obligations that can change whenever the gifter decides they want more out of me. and i absolutely cannot. fucking. stand. passive aggression. all of these things do not really seem all that unreasonable to me, yet time and time again people treat me like i’m just asking for so much more than they can possibly give. and you know what? 75% of the fucking time when someone crosses one of these boundaries all i do is Make A Note Of It and go along with the boundary violator’s wishes anyway, because i actively decided that making a big deal out of them crossing my boundaries is not worth the effort of asking them to change their behavior, because throughout my entire fucking life i’ve been constantly treated as the irrational, unrealistic, crazy bitch for trying to set those boundaries. i’ve been taught time and time and fucking time again that defining my boundaries is too much to fucking ask. so when someone does violate my boundaries, there’s a little “Sye will remember that“ popup and absolutely zero expression or reaction. which means that yes. when i finally get tired and can’t bite back my frustration any longer, it’s because you’ve done the exact same thing to me two hundred fucking times previous and i don’t have the fucking patience to suck it up and deal with it anymore. im done with your shit.

so yeah. i’m a little bit fucking sick of people telling me that i have poor self-control. the fact that you think i have no self-control is an indicator of how good it actually is, because i’m so fucking good at hiding my distress that you don’t even have any idea how absolutely like a fetid mound of horse shit i feel like until my fuse finally burns all the way up. i can contain a 10-out-of-10 ‘i’m imminently about to die’ panic attack so well that not a scrap of that panic shows up in my external affect for even a second. i can suppress my pain on stream when it’s at a 7 out of 10 intensity or higher and be fucking on stream playing video games and commentating and show almost no sign of discomfort except for an intense concentrating face. don’t you fucking ever tell me that i’m bad at controlling myself. i’m a goddamn adult. i’ve learned how to control 90% of my fucking emotions so well that i could be holding a conversation with you imagining myself breaking your fucking nose and show absolutely zero sign of external hostility. i am good at controlling my fucking emotions. the problem is that my emotions are so world-endingly, apocalyptically intense that sometimes i just get too fucking tired to hold back, and then that’s when i bite. i’ m not just lashing out randomly with no provocation. i’ve been tread on a million fucking times and took it with a smile and you had no fucking idea. just because i bit you doesn’t mean i did it because i have no self-control. self-control? self-control???? don’t you fucking talk to me about self-control you headass bitch. i have a fucking supernova coming out of my brain and you’re telling me im weak for not being able to bite it back when your emotions have about as much intensity as a bowl of lukewarm porridge. don’t ever fucking criticize me for not being able to control myself when you’re playing life on easy mode and i’ve been stuck on expert all my fucking life. self-control. don’t you fucking talk to me about self-control ever again. you have no idea what the fuck you’re even talking about. fuck off.

[my-happy-little-bean]

Golden Slumbers - Chapter 20

[Previous Chapter]

Chapter 20: Yellow Roses

pairings: logan/patton (logicality), roman/virgil (prinxiety) words: 2787 warnings: alcohol, sad vibes, maybe swearing; with solemn, you never know (bean edit: there is no swearing! such wonders is this!) summary: logan fray has been running his flower shop, aster’s, for about three years now. he hasn’t run into too much trouble yet—other than the occasional presence of his friend, roman prince, who runs a broadway-themed café across the street—and his life had been relatively quiet for quite some time now. that is, until patton sanders opens up a gift shop next door that prides itself in pun-filled cards. that’s when logan’s life gets a bit…louder.

a/n- did you know that roman has a cat named dinah? she was mentioned in chapter 9, did you know that?

we back, bby. 

thanks to @solemn-writing-vow​! writing with you again has been an absolute pleasure. god, we should do this more often. 

tag list ✨ – @virgiltheanxious, @pinkeasteregg​, @toomuchstuffnotenoughcreativity, @the-anti-virgil, @ace-v-p-d, @minnie-sparkle, @too-precious-to-process, @freepaperie081, @whatwashernameagain, @adoratato, @ultimate-queen-of-fandoms2, @softprxnce, @migraine-marathon, @alana-of-the-cartwrights, @emo-sanders-sides-loving-unicorn, @thepusheenqueen, @at-least-seven-pretty-potatoes, @hanramz-the-fander, @atomicengineerdetective, @anony-phangirl, @keeshy-ekho, @samwantstobereal, @potatogirl309, @wentzdayz, @incrediblymanlytears, @generalfandom, @paradoxicalpatton, @poisonedapples :), @michealawithana, @pasteliosis, @microsoft-nerd, @theinsanem, @blinded-by-nobody, @taylorharmonies, @axyzel​, @29-cupsofyogurt, @grey-lysander​, @russian-radiation-station​, @razberrypuck​, @leafyhill910​, @a-lexicon-of-words​, @uh-r00d​, @definenormalifyoucan​, @yeet-me-dad​, @misslilidelaney​, @corruptedicon​, @patton-loves-coloring​, @bubblycricket​, @i-am-not-a-feeling, @froggyfun27​, @penguins-in-turquoise-scarves​, @insanityandimperfection​, @spacenerrrd​, @hissesssss​, @pattongirl​, @your-username-is-unavailable​, @midknight-mania​, @wandering-wondering-aimlessly, @crofters-junkie, @hi-disappointed-im-daughter​, @peanut0303​, @applecannibal​, @fandoms-winkitywonk​, @illiani​, @teenageengineerobservation, @koalaaquabear​, @aceofhearts567​, @davidthetraveler​

((disclaimer: my tag system is a Mess™️ so if ur url is here and it shouldn’t be/you don’t want it to be, or if you want to be on the tag list and ur not on it, pls send me an ask !! thank u ^-^))

read on AO3 if you’d like ^-^

-------------------

“yellow roses = associated with the sun and its life-giving warmth; friendship” 

~*~ 

‘It’s quiet. It’s too quiet. 

Say something. 

It’s quiet, and it’s dark,

and you’re alone, and–’

“Here we are!” Roman announced, flicking on the light switch with his elbow, turning around, and peering over the box he was holding. His bright smile snapped Patton out of his thoughts. “Welcome to my kingdom!” 

Logan rolled his eyes. “Where can we situate ourselves?”

“Dinah’s probably sleeping in my room, so boxes can go in the guest room, Buzzed Light-kill,” Roman huffed. He looked over at Virgil and smiled. “You want to help Logan, mi amor? I would do it myself, but–” 

“Boxes would snap your noodle arms,” Virgil said smugly. He nodded, grabbing the box out of Roman’s arms. “I’ll take care of it.” 

Roman placed a hand on his chest dramatically, his mouth falling into a little ‘o’. “My arms are not noodles! I just– have other important things to do…” He finished lamely as Virgil and Logan made their way to the guest room. ‘Oh well. Mission Failed. We’ll get ‘em next time. Back to the most important issue’. 

Roman turned around and smiled kindly at Patton.

“Let’s embark on a grand adventure to the kitchen, shall we?” Roman extended his hand, sweeping into a low bow. “Fulfill our quest for that hot chocolate?”

‘Say something.’ Patton swallowed down a lump in his throat as he stared at Roman’s hand.

“Sure.” Even his own voice sounded small. Weak. He decided it’d be best to not say anything else. He tried not to notice the fall in Roman’s smile. Now you’ve disappointed him. Made him worry about you. Idiot!

“Fantastic!” Roman said, almost without missing a beat. He straightened himself up once more and took Patton’s hand. And Patton did not flinch, no he did not. “Let’s be on our merry way!”

“Please be careful, will you?” Logan’s voice sounded as if it were miles behind them now. It also sounded sad. 

“To infinity and beyond!” Roman exclaimed instead, skipping to the kitchen and dragging Patton beside him. 

“Why won’t you smile, Patty dearest?”

Patton didn’t know why.

-------------------

The hot chocolate grew cold on the counter. 

“I’m not sure standing here is going to help,” Logan offered, rather unhelpfully if Roman could say anything about it. “Are you going to give it to him or not?”

“I will, calm yourself,” Roman muttered, his tapping on the counter speeding up. (He was tapping in 5/4 time, what has he become?)

Logan looked over at Virgil, who was peering through the kitchen window that gave a view into the living room. Following his gaze, he noticed Patton was still sitting on the couch Roman had left him on, staring wordlessly at The Tigger Movie on the TV. He peered back at the hot chocolate. “It’s gone rather cold, too.”

“I just don’t know what to do.” Roman continued to tap his finger on the counter, pointedly ignoring Logan at this point, since he’s hardly getting to the point. Out of principle.  

“He’s never not bounced to ‘Round My Family Tree’ before,” Virgil noted, continuing to stare at Patton with a certain kind of astonishment. Logan sighed. 

“Well one of us is going to have to do something,” Logan stated. “We can’t just leave him there alone for a lengthened period of time.” A pause. More quietly, Logan adds, “He’s done that enough.”

Roman glared at him. The tapping intensified. “I’m doing everything I can, Logan.”

“He’s just...staring at it.” Virgil spoke even quieter now.

“We can’t just continue to do nothing,” Logan pointed out once more. “Someone needs to talk to him.”

“Why don’t you do it, Pointdexter?” Roman hissed. “He clearly won’t want to talk to any of us. I’m sure you can Fix-it...Felix.” 

Logan looked at him incredulously. “Pardon?”

“Junior,” Virgil quipped lightly. A beat of silence before the joke finally registered, by the look of faint disgust on Logan’s face.

“Ah, I see.” Logan pushed up his glasses. “I suppose I was mistaken beforehand. Someone needs to talk to him other than Roman.”

“I’m trying to help!” Roman protested. “I started the conversation, I made him hot chocolate–”

“That you haven’t given him,” Logan interrupted.

“I put on some Disney," Roman soldiered on, ignoring Logan’s point. “Like, come on! This is the formula to a happy-pappy Patton!”

“Guys,” Virgil finally said, a bit more firmly this time. He spun around on his heel and faced Logan and Roman, rubbing the bridge of his nose. “Look, how about Logan, you just bring the hot chocolate to the kitchen and sit with Patton until we’re there. You don’t have to talk to him, at least just watch the movie with him. Okay?”

Logan looked over at Patton, who was now hugging a pillow to his chest with the same, blank stare at the TV. He sighed, but nodded anyway, grabbing the hot chocolate and making his way to the living room. 

When he was gone, Roman glared at Virgil. 

“What gives?” he hissed quietly. “You told me I was doing great! This is me...doing great!” 

“Yeah, at a distraction,” Virgil said, nervously looking over at the living room as he watched Logan take a seat beside Patton. He shook his head. “Though I’m starting to think we’re running out of distractions.”

“No doi!” Roman said, almost exasperated. “That’s the issue, Christopher Rob-him...of…” A pause. Roman scrunched his face up in frustration. “Look, all my brain power is going towards solutions,” Roman rambled. “Don’t give me problems, give me solutions, Christopher Rob-him-of-solutions! Him being...him being– being me!” He pointed wildly at Virgil and triumphantly blurted out, “A-ha!” 

Silence. Virgil rolled his eyes.

“Wow.” Virgil shook his head. “My point is that…” He took a deep breath. “I’m starting to think that maybe distracting him so that he can be temporarily happy isn’t what he needs right now.” 

“I don’t want to see him sad either!” Roman protested. 

“Well, none of us do,” Virgil shot back. “But maybe we need to push that aside for him. He needs to be sad; the one thing we can give him right now is some company to be...sad in.”

Roman said nothing. Virgil sighed, looking over at Patton, who was now crying into Logan’s shoulder. The movie had been long forgotten. 

“It’s hard seeing him like this,” Virgil said quietly. “It’s harder knowing that he was hurting. I was standing right in front of the person who hurt him and I did nothing.”

Roman’s face softened. “There was nothing else you can do, mi pequeño rayo. You said what you wanted to say.”

“Not everything,” Virgil muttered. “There was loads I could’ve said. Maybe more I could’ve done there too.” He averted his glance from Roman. “I wanted nothing more than to rip her to shreds for ever making Patton feel like...like this.”

Roman took a step closer to Virgil. “I know.”

“He doesn’t deserve it.” Virgil’s voice trembled. “It’s a horrible feeling– to know you’ve done so much to make something work. Realizing that what you’ve had for so long wasn’t even love to begin with– it’s a horrible, horrible feeling.”

“I know.” The words slip out before Roman could stop it. Virgil looked at him with wide eyes and Roman blinked. 

What was he doing? Roman’s thoughts raced. He needed to be whatever they need right now; why was he not doing that? 

He needed to be their hero.

Not this.  Not now.

Roman tugged at the hem of his sleeve. 

“Maybe you’re right,” Roman finally said. He straightened. “He needs not to be saved — but supported.” He smiled. “I can do that.”

Virgil frowned. “We can do that. Okay?”

Silence. 

“Of course, love,” Roman stated simply.

And with that, Roman tapped Virgil’s cheek softly before heading to the living room to accompany Patton. Virgil watched him as he left.

He couldn’t help but stare at Roman’s arm, the scene of him tugging down at his sleeve lingering in his head.

“I know.”

Virgil bit the inside of his lip. It’s a horrible, horrible feeling.

-------------------

When Logan sat down beside Patton, all Patton could hear in his head was “say something.”

“I, um–” Logan cleared his throat, presenting Patton with a soft blue, tartan patterned mug with angel wings on it. “Roman made you hot chocolate. Marshmallows and all.” He frowned. “Though I am afraid it is rather cold now. And the marshmallows have melted.” 

A pause, before Logan promptly offered a small smile, holding the cup a little more towards Patton, who just stared at it. 

“Why can’t you grateful for once?!”

“Thanks,” he said softly, taking the cup and holding it on his lap. Logan nodded, and the two fell into silence once more. Patton watched as Logan took a glance at the TV. ‘Fill the silence, fool!’

“I simply do not understand the premise of this movie,” Logan finally said, clearing his throat. Patton could see the haze of orange and black reflected onto his glasses. “Why are all the characters wearing those...costumes? I am almost certain that Winnie the Pooh does not look like that.”

Patton forced a quiet laugh. 

“They’re trying to make Tigger happy,” he responded softly. He tried to ignore the way Logan looked back at him (stupid, stupid, stupid) and instead fixed his stare on the movie.

“Patton,” he heard Logan say quietly. “I– we are here for you. You are...you are aware of that, yes?”

Patton felt numb at the words. He shouldn’t need to be taken care of. 

“I don’t know how I never...how I never saw it, you know?” Patton’s voice barely broke above a whisper. He can’t help but laugh, despite it sounding so broken. “I’m a bit silly, aren’t I?” 

“Patton,” Logan said, almost sternly. He placed a hand on his knee, and Patton tensed up at the sudden contact. “You are not at fault for this.”

Patton said nothing.

“Now, you’re not going to cry, are you, Patty?”

“It doesn’t really matter.” He bit his lip. “It doesn’t matter anymore because– because it’s over, isn’t it?”

“Pat…”

“I messed everything up, even if– even if you think I didn’t.” Logan’s heart broke at Patton’s feeble attempts of breaking into some kind of an optimistic smile. “And now I lost...well, everything.”

“Falsehood. We have at least four boxes full of your things. Furthermore–” Logan added gently– “you are here.” Safe.

“Doesn’t make me any less lost,” Patton replied, his voice breaking. He swallowed down a sob when Logan didn’t respond. 

“Lo,” he murmured, his voice suddenly smaller. 

“Yes, Patton?”

A pause.

“What if that was it?” Patton finally asked. Before Logan could cut in, Patton continued. “What if she was all I had?” He looked at Logan with wide, teary eyes. “What if she was my soulmate?”

Logan frowned. Silence filled the room for a few seconds as Patton’s question lingered in the air.

“Patton,” Logan decided to say, “I am not in the business of believing that such errant frivolities such as soulmates exist.”

Patton bit back a sob. 

“So I’m alone.” He broke into a laugh; this one more strained than before. “I’m sorry, Logan. I just...I don’t think that helps. Not now, at least.”

“No, the intention of my statement was not to make you...upset.” Logan cleared his throat. “It is a mere belief of mine, I think.” He took a deep breath. “I do not believe soulmates exist because it is preposterous to believe that there is one person for everyone. There are simply just...the right people. That is why people are able to be happy, alone or with significant others — their existences are not dependent on another being, nor are they incomplete until they find that person.”

He sighed. “There are just the right people, Patton; people who improve you and allow themselves to grow alongside you.” Patton averted his glance from him and Logan added, more hesitantly, “The universe is too intelligent as to not have another plan for you. It is…ineffable.”

Silence.

“Thank you, Logan,” Patton said his voice numb; “but you are wrong.”

Logan found himself speechless. Patton continue to force his stare away from Logan in the hopes of hiding the tears rolling down his cheeks. 

“Y-You’re wrong,” he said again, “because I couldn’t change.”

“Patton–” Logan sputtered out.

“It’s true, okay?” Patton felt himself shake at every word. “I couldn’t change– who’s to say I could change for anyone else? Who’s to say that I’ll be able to change for the right person too?” Pathetic, you’re being pathetic, stop stop stop stop. 

“Patton–”

“God, where am I even going to go?” 

“I’m not wrong.” Logan huffed. “You’ll stay with…me, I suppose. If you’re amenable– ah, willing.” 

“And then what?” Patton cried, exasperated. Logan’s mouth snapped closed. “Logan, what if I wait and wait and wait and then realize too late that she was my last chance?”

Patton bit his lip, tears blurring his vision. 

“I-I’m just so scared.” He can’t stop the sob from escaping. “Logan, what if I can’t live without her?”

And that was the breaking point. 

Logan’s body structure tensed, yet his walls crumbled; as Patton collapsed onto his shoulder and began to cry. He could feel the tears stain his shirt and it took all of his will power not to cry with him. 

He instead took Patton’s wrist and felt for his pulse, making an affirming noise. 

“As I thought.” Patton looked up at him, sniffling. 

“What?” 

“Place your hand over your heart.” 

“Why?” Logan sighed at Patton’s blank stare.

“Just do it.” 

Patton slowly did as Logan said.“What…” He looked confused. Logan looked at him softly. 

“Do you feel your heartbeat? It’s steady.”

“I don’t understand–” 

“You’re living,” Logan interrupted. “You are alive, and she’s not here.” Patton sniffled a bit, letting out a strangled half-laugh. Logan’s heart fluttered with the small victory. 

“It’s not the same, really. But thanks.” Patton said softly, leaning back against Logan.

Logan’s mind raced for how to respond or if it would be too much, but was saved by Roman resting his head against Patton, wrapping him into a hug. Virgil soon came to sit beside Roman, reaching to hold Patton’s hand.

No one said anything as the movie faded out of their attention. 

And it was quiet.

-------------------

The morning came and went without any of them noticing it. Logan—who just watched as the little group that surrounded Patton drifted off to sleep as the night passed him—came to terms with the fact that he would just not be going to work. He could afford one day, after all. 

He took the liberty of texting Thomas on Roman’s phone that Roman would not be at work; and every now and then Dinah would make her way into the living room, jumping onto the space beside Logan. She was a gorgeous cat, Logan noted — though by the looks of how Patton’s sniffles turned into sneezes in his sleep, she probably couldn’t stay for that long. 

As he continued his mindless thoughts, a dull headache beginning to build up—‘Never again, I’m never drinking again’—he felt his phone buzz twice beside him. 

Careful not to wake anyone up, he slowly reached over for his phone and pulled it towards him. Without really looking at the sender, he slid open the first new message.

From: Jen | 7:01 am

Hey, sorry for how long this took. But good news! Turns out ur still smart as heck and the flower TOTALLY WORKED. Obviously not magic, but still pretty close! :D :D Let’s grab some coffee soon and talk, nerd <3

Logan smiled half-heartedly on the screen. He had forgotten to update Jen about the state of his little ‘project’ and wasted her time, god, why does he just do everything wrong?. 

Beside him, he suddenly heard the faint sound of Patton’s steady breathing, turning to see Roman’s head slowly drop against his chest. Virgil’s hand was still tightly locked around Patton’s. 

And Patton was quiet.  And Patton looked...at peace. 

If there is anyone who is smart, he typed back, it would be you. It is a complete wonder that you figured it out, and I look forward to meeting with you for said coffee in order to learn your method of how you did so. What day works for you?

He pressed send without thinking about it too hard; it’s time, after all, to change.

And as the golden sun poured through Roman’s curtains, a new thought filled Logan’s mind

as he drifted off to sleep.

You’re going to have to read the other text eventually, you know.

-------------------

a/n- reblogs, likes, whatever — i love ‘em all! thank you for reading, mes amies; hope u enjoyed it <33

[Next chapter]

[ekkorn]

hi there, just saw in the tags that you didn‘t like endgame. would you like to expand on that? i am curious to know other people‘s perspective. personally, i liked it. it has flaws, yes, but to me it was enjoyable. if you don‘t feel like answering, that is fine :) have a great day!

oh wow. you really wanna know? okay, but on your own head be it. :o

i’m just joking, i’ll go easy, or at least give you the digest (a vicious lie) version. if you want to see the full extent of my derision and vitriol, you can go to @lowkeysebastianstan, which is the blog where i’ve tried to limit this too. but to give you the not at all short and not so sweet of it, here goes. (endgame spoilers obviously).

the first thing that really set me off was the ending, more precisely, what steve did. it made absolutely no sense whatsoever, and hit me closer to home than most of my followers here since bucky and steve are my fave characters, and the only ship i really have. now, i never thought stucky would become canon, not even a little, i didn’t even hope for it. sure, the representation would’ve been awesome, but there’s no way marvel could’ve done it justice, so it was just as well it was never gonna happen. what i hadn’t prepared for was to what extreme extent they were terrified of the ship and the effect it would have if they were to let it be even a hint that could be interpreted as some emotional connection between them, for 3 films they’re built bucky up as the most important character in steve’s life, he’s risked his own life to save him, he basically eradicated hydra during wwii fueled by grief for him, he was prepared to die for him in tws, he fought his friends and gave up everything for him in cacw, and then he just? leaves? to be with a woman who died of old age and natural causes after a long fulfilling life with another man and family of her own. who specifically told him to fucking move on in tws? yeah, sure. and do not get me wrong, i adore sam wilson, after bucky, and the real steve rogers, he is by far my fave in the cap verse (saving a few spots for my bp and cm peeps in the mcu, but we’ll get to them), and he is the superior choice to pick up the mantle, no doubt about it. (okay, a little doubt, they teased sebastian with that shield for 8 years, they based bucky on the brubaker storyline where he becomes cap, and so i do feel a little torn bc no matter how happy he must be for his friend, and him and mackie are good friends, he must be a little disappointed? but who knows, maybe they’ll do something with that in the series, which would be stupid af bc that would negate the positive leap in representation, and mackie deserves it too, so who the fuck knows, i’ll probably not be around to keep track anyways, and can you tell im rambling), but for steve’s last words to be to sam? while bucky stands and watch in the background? like??? i could go on in (more excruciating) detail, but that was why i linked the blog, there might be a point or two about this on there.

but that was just the start. all through the movie i felt disconnected and uneasy, they made some really weird choices, but i don’t think it was until nat took the plunge that i knew i had an absolute dud on my hands. 

the mcu has done a lot of things right, but their treatment of women is NOT one of them. and oh boy did they go out with a bang. first is the obvious implication, he got to live bc he had “more to live for”, and she didn’t have a family, and ye gods we know she can’t have kids, so why should she live? 

(see, if the bw movie wasn’t in the books, i’d completely get it, if it was to give scarjo her life back, and she wanted nat to be good and dead, sure. actually, when i first watched it, that’s what i thought tbh, that the bw movie was cancelled, so. but it’s not, so she will return. and since that the case it’s just fucked up that they yeeted her off the roster. and sure, some of the bw movie was always gonna be set in the past, but tbh? i don’t see much point in prequels for dead characters, you know that whatever happens won’t affect the outcome for the character at all, and i usually find them completely void of meaning. that might just be me though). and of course the fact that she died the same way gamora went didn’t help. (gamora’s death was maybe the single worst thing in aiw, she was fridged, not for the advancement of one man, but for two (thanos and quill) and it.just.shouldn’t.have.worked.thanos.cannot.love! again, mcu and women? not a good match.) 

then of course, it comes back to steve and how much he doesn’t give a crap about the people close to him in the present, we never see him care or grieve for anyone but peggy, and he could barely spare two tears for nat before it was all business again. and the rest of the team? i think clint cared a little, and banner threw a chair, but that was it. no memorial, not burial, no nothing, it was like she never existed, and she died saving the world just as much as tony, he couldn’t have done jack shit without the soul stone. 

and speaking of women, shuri and okoye? before the trailer dropped i was sure shuri was in this, that we’d get to see her lead in her brother’s stead. i actually did a short lament on this already, here.

carol was terribly underused, after all the oompf about her being there she was barely a blip. but the haircut was fantastic, and the best part of the movie was when she returned at the end.

then there’s nebula and gamora (again). at first i was actually quite pleased that they sort of found a loophole to bring gamora back, but then i thought about it (yes, sometimes i get seduced by the flashy colours too) and yeah. sure. a gamora is there, but she’s void of all the things that makes her interesting and all her development is just gone, everything “our” gamora achieved and experienced is gone, three films worth of arc is worthless. so what then is the point of getting “her” back? i don’t care about this person, i don’t know her. are we gonna see quill just harass her the next film, bc you know, she’s been with him, so why shouldn’t he expect her to just do that now? tbh i wouldn’t be surprised, but now that gunn is back maybe he can save it? not that i’ll be around to keep track though.

then nebula. nvm that time paradox, that’s a whole other fuckfest i’ll get back to, but we had to get to see her get killed too, didn’t we. by her sister, the only person in the world she loves. fucking fantastic, i cannot control my enthusiasm. 

and no, cool as it was, the a-force surrounding parker is not enough to bring this home. it was a cool sight though. (see? i can see the good.)

then of course it’s peggy. a woman he knew for a few months back during the war. (sure they knew each other longer, but i’d say, even if you’re very generous, they can’t have spent more than a couple of months in each other’s company, and they kissed once). who they stripped of all character development and autonomy so that steve could go back and get his “damce”. everything she achieved, every good thing that happened to her, her husband, her family, her advancement in shield, all gone. bc steve must have his happy ending, no matter that she told him to move the fuck on in tws, who cares. 

and then there’s sharon. yeah, they forgot about her, didn’t they. i mean, i was never really on board with that, the whole aunt/niece thing was a bit too weird for me, and this was way before i shipped stucky, but that doesn’t matter. bc they did that, they had them kiss within days after peggy’s death (oooh, look how he cared for peggy), making it clear that this was the beginning of something. (also marvel and several of the actors treated emily like crap, oh yeah, i remember, doesn’t help either.) 

(gods i said this would be short, didn’t i? imagine if i could’ve spent all the words i’ve spent ranting about endgame on my latest chapter? good grief.)

then there’s their so called lgbt representation. 30 seconds of a character that had a total of 60 sconds of screentime in tws lamenting his dead lover? well. i. they wanted credit for that. i just.

then there’s thor. they negated every ounce of development he had in ragnarok, this also goes for aiw, wasn’t happy about that, and made him completely ooc, he just spends his time drinking ab\nd playing fortnite of all things? bold of them to assume that will still be a thing in 5 years, but also? thor? THOR? neglecting his people? his friends? the world? thor? then they of course made him fat, haha, so they could add fat-shaming to the list while they make light and fun of his drinking problems, his grief and his ptsd. awesome. the funniest. 

then there’s clint. that they just randomly made a killer? just, like a straight up murderer? okay then. and still nat deserved to die. excellent.

then there’s banner. okay, i don’t think they fucked him up as bad as the others, but it’s still strange he would risk his intelligence to become hulk full time, but you do you.  

rocket and rhodey were the best things about this damn disaster, just putting it out there.

then there’s tony. i mean, we knew he was the main protagonist, and im not objecting that, (even if i think it’s really strange he’d be born in 1970) but idk. that was strange’s plan? all that for that? and pepper just went, eh what the hell, just die, i can raise this kid you wanted. (i know, i know, she’s her mom, she cares), but it was just so flat. and idk. i mean, rdj wanted his life back, just as evans, but i’d want to see that switched, that tony get to retire and steve sacrifice himself to save the world. tony could still be the deciding factor in strange’s plan even if steve delivered the coup de grace. at least he cared enough to show an emotion™when peter came back, which was more than steve bothered with. jfc they fucked up steve.

then there’s the time travel. okay, a few things about the 2012 thing. they put him in the elevator, and then, instead of having him just kick the crap out of the agents, they reference hydra!cap? the biggest shitstorm in the comics in the last two decades? like what the actual fuck? then of course there’s the americas ass thing, which, again, that’s steve, cares about his ass but not his friends! (but at least 2012 steve cares about bucky, maybe he’ll save him a couple of years early, back to the future steve will just live out his life knowing bucky is getting tortured somewhere in siberia, good times.) oh! and i guess they have their loophole to get loki back too, great, they’ll probably just forget that he’s not in the main timeline, bc who cares. 

and the fun just keeps coming with the time travel. oh they tried with some crap explanation that no one can make sense of, but here’s the kicker. they can’t either, they don’t even want to try, they don’t even agree with each other. 

+ +

how did they know to meet up in wakanda or wherever, the dustees? did strange send a memo? not just the ppl in the soul realm or wherever they were, but all the others too, like valkyrie and hope. time and place just magically popped into their heads? and what happened when they all came back? or some came back, bc obviously a shit ton of ppl died at the dusting, like the pilot of a 747 gone? plane goes down and such, ppl really dead. and where do they reappear? where they disappeared? aka those passengers that got dusted comes back mid flight? fun! and what about the ones that moved on in their absence? what happens to the ones that come back when their wives and husbands are remarried, when there’s no place for them in their old lives. did all of peter’s classmates get dusted, or did the rest of the class graduate without him, i must assume that all of those in s:ffh did, otherwise some would be in college by now, yeah?

and that’s another reason their watertight time travel is leaky af, there’s no way to get the logistics to work. the only option as such would have been to go back to 2018 and fix it, to reset time, bc otherwise there are just too many holes, it’s just not possible. but they can’t do that bc then they’ll undo all the things that happen in the future that the characters don’t want to lose, like tony’s kid. 

oh, i know, it’s a superhero movie, but im strange like that, i expect a modicum of internal logic in all my movies, the bitch that i am. 

okay, im gonna leave it there, ive run out of steam, and i want to gif a set. there’s a few things more, but i think you’ve gotten the gist, that i’m not a fan of this movie and a short (lol, so sorry, nothing is ever digest with me, i should’ve warned you) list of reasons why. honestly this is the first time i’ve really don’t a more general account, ive pretty much stuck to steve and that crapshute, there’s a lot of other blogs that concentrate on the other characters, i’d list a few, but i don’t have it in me rn, pop me a msg if you’re interested, also if you’re interested in some real meta, this rambling rant isn’t something that people should be exposed to honestly. 

avengers: endgame was a shit movie and no amount of “he’s worthy” and “avengers assemble” is going to fix that, BUT if you enjoyed it, i don’t think less of you, obviously everyone is different, and i envy the hell out of you, i sorely wish i could’ve liked it too. the russos directed what is by far the best movie in the mcu imo, tws, and they had us all fooled, even if we probably should’ve seen it coming after iron man 4: civil war.

hope you’re having a spectacular day, sorry you had to read this if you did, and and thank you for making mine better, i really had a rant in me needing out. (you’d think i’d run out of hate for this by now, but nah.)

thank you for the ask :) 

[alberteatsglass]

stories from camp

so we had a fundraiser thing and there was 2 teams

you could pick between the 2 teams

there was only 2 teams no other teams than that just 2 you had the choice between team ben and team rj (two of the leaders)

if you wanted you could write the name of the 2 teams you picked

only 2 teams to pick from

so of course that did not last long

so me and my friends sat with this one counsellor at lunch his name was issac

it wasnt spelled that way but they spelled it wrong on his name tag so whatever

my friend asked me what team i was on and as a joke i was like “oh im on team [one of our favorite older kids name]”

and so they responded “hah im on team issac” so i got out my name tag and wrote an I on it for team issac

then all hell broke lose

so our entire table joined team issac while issac sat there like “hell yeah got my own team now yeet” like not taking it seriously (none of us were)

so if you know my affiliation with albert eats gl*ss you know i am really bad at keeping this as just a joke

so a couple people from a different table when we were walking to the jack building were like “can we join team issac?” and of course i was like “yeah sure lmao we need more people” and so it spread

flash forward the two teams got a donation jar so my friends and i drew issac made an offering can and put it with the others

everyone loved it

so im sitting in the canteen with issac and a couple of my older friends making bracelets and the camp director walks up to me so im like “oh shit”

and she brings me out to the hall and is like “ok so what the fuck is team issac and what have you done” so im like “its a revolution” (I TOLD HER THAT OK I REGRET IT)

and she is like “you guys had two teams to chose from why did you have to make a third everyone is going nuts about it”

so of course im like “why are you asking me about it?” and she is like “because i asked a couple people and they said you were behind it” and i was like ??? cause no one at my lunch table would rat me out and there was only like 5 of us

so of course im like “well how many people are in team issac that you have seen?”

35 fucking people

so im like “wow ok fucking wow” so she was like “you guys need to stop” so uh

we didnt

mrs dome telling us to stop only continued what would later be known as the team issac campaign

apparently, i heard from issac team issac got brought up at a staff meeting and he denied everything so we good-

but so we made posters to hang up about team issac got a real offering can and then everything went crazy

so everyday we would have challenges between the two team leaders and one night the two were up there like normal and on of my staff friends runs on stage before they start the challenge and is like “WE HAVE HAD NEWS THERE IS A NEW TEAM ISSAC [LAST NAME] GET UP HERE”

so everyone goes nuts and it was really funny

in the end team issac won the fundraiser thing and that's the story of why im probably never going to be allowed at CYIA training ever again

[leondraisaitlsglove]

Transcript: Peter and Leon Draisaitl in a double interview ahead of the NHL Global Series Challenge

[This is a little rough, yo. Obviously not an exact translation but I tried to stay as true to the original wording as possible while getting the general meaning across properly. The result is a bit stilted. Rick Goldmann (interviewer) speaks a dialect that obviously doesn’t translate here and Peter mumbles a bit in places so I had to take some liberties there. The general tone of the interview is jokey and casual, Leon and his dad are bantering, but there’s heartfelt and serious bits too! I also chose to keep ‘Papa’ (dad) and ‘Mama’ (mom) in their original German bc I think it’s cute, lol. But anyway, YEET! Let me know what you think. Theres two lil McDrai moments in there if you squint.]

I LOVE YOU ANON THANK YOU FOR MAKING MY MCFREAKING DAY IM GONNA READ IT NOW AND THEN SOUND OFF IN THE TAGS WHEN IM DONE. THANK YOU. YOUR HARD WORK IS VERY APPERICATED.

This is the interview for anyone wondering

Rick Goldmann: Welcome, Peter and Leon Draisaitl, to what I’m going to call a ‘family interview‘ here on Sport1 [channel name]. I’m guessing this kind of interview, a double interview, has been done more frequently recently now that you [Peter] are the coach in Cologne [of the Kölner Haie ‘Cologne Sharks’, Colognes Hockey team in the DHL, the German pro Hockey league] and you [Leon] are here [in Cologne]. How often has this happened so far?

Peter: Not really that often. We’ve maybe done it one or two times, three maximum. It hasn’t been that many times.

Leon: Yes [agreeing noises]

RG: So you’re not getting tired of it?

L: Not yet, no. I think we still have quite a bit of that ahead of us in the following days, especially before the game.

P: Yes.

RG: Let’s just start at the beginning. You could say that you two spent the summer here in Cologne together. What did that look like?

Peter: Leon spent two bigger chunks of time in Prague, where he prepared with his trainer. We took a vacation together for three weeks, in Spain. When we were in Cologne, he [Leon] trained here with us [the Kölner Haie] to get ready, both ‘dry’ [gym etc.] training and going out on the ice with us. [Starts grinning] But by now he’s hanging out with the boys more rather than spending time at home with us.

PG: So when you’re in Cologne, Leon, you stay with your Papa?

L: Yes, with my parents.

RG: Who’s responsible for cooking? Not you.

L: Not me, no. [Huffs] Certainly not me. Mama, mostly, when we eat at home.

RG: Okay. But you went on vacation together. You did that together this summer. It’s been a brutally hot summer. I heard you actually don’t enjoy water that much. Is that true? If yes, how did you even survive?

L: Where did you hear that?

RG: Maybe I didn’t come prepared.

L: No, it’s true, I’m not much of a … I mean I do like cooling off, but if I do it’s more likely to be in a pool rather than the big open sea where you never know what’s swimming around underneath you.

RG: So you respect the ocean?

L: Yeah, for sure.

P: I could prove that with a picture or two.

RG: Where did that come from? Has that been the case since he was little?

P: Hmm. Yeah, actually, he was still wearing those little red … what’s the word?

L: Water wings.

P: …water wings or whatever they’re called, and he already didn’t trust the water back then. And he has kept that up to this day.

RG: [Jokingly] Did you not inflate them properly?

P: [Laughs] That’s certainly possible.

RG: I’ve heard something else along with you not liking the water – that in juniors, you actually didn’t play hockey for a year. [Leon nods] How did that happen and what did you think of that, Peter?

L: Yeah I mean my parents were actually pretty… they essentially supported me in whatever… from the beginning it was clear that if I didn’t like Hockey, it wouldn’t be a big problem. I essentially tried out every sport; I’ve played golf, I’ve played tennis… I experimented a lot, and there was a time when Hockey for me was – I think it was actually because we were moving house, moving house a lot annoyed me about Hockey so I stopped playing for a year and played soccer, but it turned out that wasn’t for me [chuckles].

P: [Chuckling]

RG: [to Peter] What did you think? He’s not a soccer player? Or did you not care?

P: Let’s be serious for a while: If he had stuck with soccer, that would’ve been fine for us. We realized, or learned, or understood early on that there’s no sense in pressuring your children into it. Just because I was stomping around somewhere sometime [aka playing hockey], that doesn’t mean he absolutely has to do the same thing. If he had told me; ‘Papa, golf, tennis suits me more’ that would have been…

Leon: Fencing.

P: …been fine for our family. Fencing, sure. With your motor skills… I don’t think so. [Leon grins] It would’ve been okay. I don’t remember, was it even a full year?

L: I don’t know either. Not sure if it was a whole year.

P: He dipped his toes into it, at Fortuna was it?

L: [Offended] That’s Fortuna Düsseldorf. It was Victoria Köln.

P: Or Victoria. No idea.

L: Victoria Köln, yes.

P: But I think that stopped after a few weeks or so.

L: Because they wouldn’t let me take the free kick once, yeah.

RG: That made you not want to do it anymore?

L: Yeah, I lost my motivation after that.

[All laugh]

P: He came back to Hockey after that.

RG: If there’s a list of things you guys don’t want to hear anymore: How far up there is ‘The German Gretzky?’

L: You mean as a nickname?

RG: Yeah, that people call you that.

L: Ehhh, Actually… I try to distance myself from that a little bit, nicknames and all that. Stuff like that tends to come from the media anyway, and if they enjoy writing stuff like that, whatever, go ahead.

RG: Of course it comes from the media, but you still notice it. As a former player I’d say how do you come up with bullshit like that, but they need their headlines. When you heard it the first time, what did you think about it, Peter?

P: As I’m sure you can imagine I wasn’t exactly thrilled with it, because it puts unnecessary pressure on the young guys. Like everyone in this sport knows, there has only ever been one and there will only ever be one [Wayne Gretzky], and that comparison with the name alone already isn’t fair. And in the end it doesn’t even make any sense. But it’s actually pretty cool that Leon is able to – and has always been able to – absorb stuff like that and then put it aside. He doesn’t dwell on it when he generates headlines like that, generates ‘hype’ like that, as it’s already happened in the past, with the junior draft and the NHL draft, interviews and so forth. So far he’s always handled it pretty professionally.

RG: You’ve brought up an interesting aspect: the mental aspect in professional sports. Especially now with how Hockey has developed, maybe in comparison with other players in the DHL, in Europe, with the NHL - what kind of importance does it have for you? The ‘mental strength’ as some people call it?

L: In my personal opinion, over 90% of it takes place in your head. Without wanting to disrespect anyone, when I train with the guys here: they’re not slower – well maybe when compared to someone like McDavid – but generally they’re not slower, their shooting isn’t worse than that of the guys I train with overseas, but in my opinion it’s something in your head. It’s all mental games, mental stuff that plays a huge role in Hockey, and in sports in general.

RG: [to Peter] If you think back to your career and you compare it to Leons, what would you like to have that he does and you didn’t?

P: If you move beyond the fact that times were different back then – no videos, no social media – the NHL was so far removed from us for most players, and definitely for me, that I wasn’t even thinking about it. But putting that aside, maybe his maturity or his mental strength. Because I figured out pretty late what this sport was about, I wasted years of my time playing hockey by not taking it seriously as a team sport, not knowing what it meant to be part of a greater whole. Where I needed to position myself to be actually useful. And he [Leon] understood that much earlier.

RG: If you had to describe him as a player how would you do that?

P: As someone who … maybe partially already is, but will definitely succeed in being a dominant two-way player. Who, with his skills, should be able to carry a line, to lead and direct a group of five players. Moreover he has the ability to score - to set up plays and also score himself. I don’t think I’m wrong when I say that Leon is developing that way. I think that’s his overarching goal he wants to reach, so he can compete with the superstars of our sport. People like Crosby, who have already won tons of stuff, who have proven not just once but over and over again that when it really counts, they can bring it.

RG: [to Leon] How would you rate that evaluation by a coach, by your Papa?

L: He knows me, of course. He knows that it’s my goal to get there someday, to be a two-way forward that can score goals but who doesn’t think he’s above doing the dirty work defensively. Who takes important face-offs and who’s a complete, all around good hockey player.

RG: Leon, this year was the first time you’ve done your prep work in Cologne. How did that happen and why did you choose to do your training camp for the NHL season in Germany?

L: I’m from here. I grew up here. This is the perfect scene for me, and with my dad as a coach here, it gives me every opportunity to prepare successfully and well. A weight room, I can go on the ice, every day, use the gym every day, so that’s a no brainer for me.

RG: When you’re on the ice here, your Papa is the coach. What’s that situation like for you, when he’s the one blowing the whistle?

L: [Grinning] By now I’ve gotten used to it a little. Since I’ve always kind of done it like that over the years, that I go train wherever my dad happens to be at the time. Sometimes when he gets a little louder it’s a bit weird for me, because I only know my Papa from what he’s like at home, talking shit, joking around. So when it gets serious all of a sudden… but other than that it’s pretty normal. I know it’s a business, I know this is his job and I’m smart enough to separate that from home life.

RG: So I guess that means when you were little, you were just like all the other kids, following your dad into the locker room and getting to know Hockey like that. Was it essentially a pre-decided thing that you’d get into hockey yourself?

L: If you follow basic logic, of course that had something to do with it. I don’t know, a couple of weeks ago I saw pictures of me where I could barely walk and was wearing a giant red helmet and gloves that were half my…

P: And a pacifier, don’t forget that. A pacifier.

L: …half my entire body size. So of course I got into it via my dad. But I think the passion, to a certain degree, you have to develop yourself.

RG: When you think back, what’s the first thing you remember of your dad in regards to Hockey?

L: For me, the coolest thing was after the game when the kids were allowed to come down and onto the ice and were handed over the glass by one of the parents. Then taking a victory lap with Papa, that was the best… I always loved that.

P: And my back check at Schalke.

L: And his back check at Schalke in 2010, that was also…

P: Formative. Formative, definitely.

L: I’ll never forget that.

RG: Your back check at Schalke?

P: Yeah, I burned my equipment after that. Before the game there was a match against the Grasbrunner (?) guys, a pre-game.

RG: At the World Cup Germany were hosting? In front of 70000 people?

P: Exactly, yeah. That was when I realized…

L: Let it go. Hang them up.

P: Stop playing.

L: Give it up.

P: And that was the last time I played a hockey game.

RG: Oh, really?

P: Yeah.

RG: Mine too, by the way.

P: There you go.

RG: I saw you and thought to myself: better not try again.

P: That’s it, now it’s over.

RG: When did you realize what kind of talent Leon had, the potential he had?

P: The first time I thought it could be enough for a higher level was when I was overseas at Prince Albert and it was starting to look likely he’d get drafted at the junior draft, or rather the NHL draft, relatively highly. And then you obviously have the hope, if you’re talking about the first round or something, that he could end up in the best league, in the NHL.

RG: [to Leon] You’re 22 years old, turning 23, how much would you say have you reached your potential as a hockey player?

L: I’d say I have a lot more in me. Or rather, I know I have a lot more to give. At 22 no Hockey player, no athlete is at the point he can reach by 26, 27, 28. It’s a process I’m looking forward too, but I also know it’s very hard work. I’ll try to get better and better each year.

RG: Now there’s going to be this game, the global series that’s taking place here. The game was sold out within 10 minutes. When did you first find out there would be the opportunity to play against an NHL team as a coach here in Cologne?

P: I don’t remember, or I somehow… [Leon murmuring] excuse me?

L: I think it was through me.

P: That’s possible. I think at first I didn’t even realize it. I heard about the Oilers playing here, I thought it was a joke at first. When it became official I thought okay, well, this is a fact now. Again, for ‘Kölle’ [nickname for the city in the regional accent] this game, and the winter game later in the season, are huge, fantastic events awaiting us. I think this event, this game against the Oilers will be really fun for everyone involved.

RG: The global series, Leon, to explain the basics, what’s the idea behind it? Why does the NHL play games abroad, in Europe?

L: I think it’s to push markets in countries where Hockey isn’t as popular. To increase the importance of Hockey worldwide, and especially in countries where it’s relatively unknown, like China, like Germany, I don’t know where else. Or in smaller countries, to push the sport. I think the NHL is doing a really good job, and I personally really like that they’re doing these kinds of matches. I think for the DHL teams as well, or with New Jersey in Switzerland, for the Swiss teams, it’s a highlight and everyone is looking forward to it.

RG: In this game, Edmonton Oilers vs. Kölner Haie, how important is the Draisaitl vs. Draisaitl duel? It’s not every day you get the chance to beat your dad, and it’s not every day you get to coach against an NHL team either.

P: Well this is going to be his only chance, because in table tennis and every other game [Leon protests by puffing up his cheeks and laughing] he can’t keep up, so maybe Wednesday will be the only time he gets the opportunity. But I don’t see them beating us yet.

L: [Grinning, then mock-serious] This is going to be one of many times I’ll beat my dad, in various things. No, like he said, it’s going to be an outstanding event, for our family it’s going to be special as well. And I think for them [Kölner Haie] it will be the hardest, I think they don’t quite know what’s in store for them yet. Being neutral is [unintelligible]

RG: If you absolutely had to pick a player from Edmonton to play with the Kölner Haie – and you have to, otherwise you’d say you wouldn’t take any – you need to take one.

P: I have to, yes.

RG: Who would you pick?

P: He would start right now? For the season?

RG: Yeah, exactly. Who do you pick?

P: I’ll have to think for a little bit. There’s quite a few who are… I would have to decide between McDavid and Leon. But you only want one.

RG: Yeah, and why you’d pick him. Who and for what reason.

P: I’d pick McDavid. Leon will have to deal with that.

L: [Mockingly] Incomprehensible. Can’t understand that choice.

P: He needs to be strong now.

RG: if you had to pick one for Edmonton – one of the Cologne guys.

L: From the Cologne team. Hmm. [clicks his tongue] Pfohli [Fabio Pfohl]. I think he has the potential. His Hockey IQ is on a really high level. In my opinion it should be his goal to play in the NHL.

P: Okay.

RG: [to Peter] You’ll stick with your choice? McDavid?

P: [nodding]

L: [grinning, shaking his head] Can’t understand that.

[All laughing]

RG: Okay, thank you!

[all-hail-the-witcher]

questionable government spies: chapter 11

ANY AND ALL PREVIOUS PARTS UNDER #SPY BOYS OR ON THE MASTERLIST

_________

here we goooOOOOOO

okay so alot goes down in this please try not to get too mad

its all for a reason I promise

twitch knows said reason and her general reaction was “fuck”

also I tried very very hard to make it accurate I spent literally I think like 3 months googling stuff for this

extra thanks to twitch for the evil planning

also fizz helped, hi fizz, she like made everything worse so if you have a problem go complain to her

I mean you can complain to me too but like her also

anyway lets do this

also  im not really sure how to tag these warnings so if you've got any questions before you read please shoot me a message/ask whatever you want

_______

ship: eventual sprace, platonic ralbert, spromeo, fittons, jack tries to flirt with Kath and it fails

warnings: post insane traumatic injury (??) I dont wanna give it away so if you have a question please message me !!, mention of an explosion, pain, both emotional and physical, physical disability, mentions of a previous bad relationship 

editing: I think so theres been alot of different versions but im fairly certain it all lines up

words: significant amount

_______

Albert was about ready to yeet himself of a bridge, as Race would say. At least, he thought that that was what Race would say. Maybe he was using yeet in the wrong context…. Anyway, Albert was just done with listening to Jack trying to flirt with Katherine.

This was the first day that his and Jack’s schedule had overlapped with Katherine’s. Of course it had to be today, the day after the mission. As if Albert didn’t have enough of a headache from the night before.

Maybe it would be more tolerable if Race were working with them, Albert thought as he moved himself all the way down to the opposite side of the counter, away from Jack. But, Race wasn’t allowed to work with them because he might flood the kitchen again.

“If you were a fruit, you’d be a fineapple.”

Albert let out a loud groan and nearly smacked his head into the counter, beside him Romeo let out a laugh.

“What’s the matter, Al?” He asked teasingly. “Ya don’t like it when people flirt? Ya live with Race for crying out loud!”

Albert sighed, picking his head up off the counter. “No, I just don’t like it when Jack flirts. He’s not subtle, and he uses the most obnoxious pick up lines. At least Race is a little more chill with it.” He thought back to the terrible snow puns from the night before. “Well, most of the time.”

“Well, he did learn from the best,” Romeo bragged and Albert gave him a sideways look. “What? I am a master at flirting! See, I’ll prove it to you. I bet I can make the next person who walks through that door blush.”

Albert rolled his eyes. “Be my guest.”

The next person to walk through the door happened to be Buttons. Albert choked out a laugh. Romeo made a face but still delivered his pickup line.

“Hey Buttons!” He called. “Is your name google? Cause you’re everything I’ve been searching for.”

Buttons made a disinterested face and Albert dissolved into a fit of laughter.

“Ro, didn’t we say no more flirting with the customers?” Buttons asked as he moved around some of the chairs at a table close to the counter.

“But you’re not a customer, you’re an employee,” Romeo pointed out as he began to help a customer.

“All the more reason not to flirt with me,” Buttons stressed. “Besides, don't you have a boyfriend?”

“Specs thinks it’s funny when I flirt with other people,” Romeo pouted.

“I find that hard to believe.” Buttons finished moving around the chairs and walked back towards the door.

“What’s he doing?” Albert asked Romeo as he prepared a drink for a customer.

Romeo glanced up. “Oh, he’s bringing Finch in. He must have been discharged yesterday after his surgery.”

“His what?” Albert was confused. Jacobs had mentioned that Finch was recovering from some sort of attack by the gang, but that had been 6 months ago. Surely he was doing better now…

“Oh, did no one tell you about Finch?” Romeo asked, pausing to call out an order.

“No…?” Albert said. “Well, Jacobs mentioned that he had gotten injured on the YMONY case and was recovering but that’s it.”

“Recovering isn’t the word I’d use,” Romeo said. “He’s had a rough time.”

“What do you mean?” Albert asked uncertainly.

“You’ll see,” Romeo waved him off as the door opened again, revealing Buttons pushing Finch in a wheelchair.

“Hey Finch!” Romeo greeted as Buttons parked his chair at a table next to the counter. “How’ve ya been?”

“Pretty good,” Finch responded.

Buttons rolled his eyes. “Don’t listen to him. He’s been in constant pain for the last week.” He leaned down to kiss Finch gently on the lips. “I’ll be in the kitchen. Have one of the guys come back and grab me if you need anything.”

Finch nodded and waved to Buttons as he walked toward the kitchen. Then he looked up at the counter and noticed Albert for the first time.

“Albert Dasilva! I haven’t seen you in years!” He exclaimed, taking in his friend. “I almost didn’t recognize you.”

“Yeah it’s been awhile,” Albert agreed, leaning across the counter and surveying Finch's appearance. He was wearing an old blue flannel shirt and sweatpants. The right sleeve of his shirt was rolled up to his bicep, revealing the fact that he was missing most of his right arm. Fastened securely on top of his shirt, around his lower abdomen, was a white brace that appeared to extend all the way down his left leg under his sweatpants. There was heavy bandaging and most likely a brace encasing his right lower leg. The chair was tilted back slightly and both foot rests were raised to support his presumably injured legs.

“Are you and Race still partners?” Finch asked as Albert rung someone up at the register.

“Yeah, yeah, we’re still partners,” Albert felt himself smile at the mention of Race. “We’ve started training a kid. Jack!” Albert called across the counter to Jack, who was still trying to miserably flirt with Katherine.

Jack wandered over, looking a little disappointed that he was being called away from his crush. “What is it?”

Albert gestured to Finch. “Jack, this is Finch Cortes. Race and I were friends with him in training. He’s partners with Buttons, and they were training Katherine.” Then he turned to Finch. “Finch, this is Jack Kelly. Race and I have been training him for about a year.”

“Hi,” Jack said, clearly anxious to get back to Katherine.

“You’re so lucky that Race and Albert are training you,” Finch told him. “They’re two of the best field agents I’ve ever seen. Well,” he paused, laughing slightly, “except for that time where they almost blew up the weapons lab.”

Jack stamped his foot in frustration. “How is it that everyone knows about that except me?”

“It’s just one of those things you had to experience for yourself to truly appreciate it,” Romeo sighed, staring off into the distance comically. “I will never forget the look on Jacobs’s face when he told us why it was off limits.”

Albert and Finch began to laugh and Jack stomped back down behind the counter toward Katherine.

“Al, when’s your break?” Finch asked after the laughter had subsided. “I wanna catch up.”

Albert glanced up at the clock. “I can take it now, actually, one second.” He ducked back into the kitchen to hang up his apron and returned moments later, pulling up a chair at the table Finch was sitting next to.

“So,” Finch began. “What brings you and Race back here? I thought Race didn’t want anything to do with this city.”

Albert laughed a little. “Well, Jacobs assigned us a case, and he thinks that we’re going to fail, so Race wants to prove him wrong.”

“What case?” Finch asked. “Or are you not allowed to say?”

“No, no, I can say,” Albert said. He took a deep breath. He was still hoping against hope that Finch hadn’t gotten injured on the YMONY case, even though he knew he had. “Race and I were tasked with bringing YMONY down,” he said.

Finch’s face darkened for a brief second before he responded. “I didn’t realize that someone else was getting assigned to that,” he said.

“Apparently no one was supposed to,” Albert said. “But they got some sort of coded message and Jacobs hates us, so he figured hey why not put them on, if they go missing or die then at least I’ll be rid of them.”

Finch smiled briefly. “Buttons and I were on that case. They’re a dangerous group, as you can see.” He gestured to himself with his left hand.

“If you don’t mind me asking,” Albert began hesitantly, “what happened? Just so I know what we’re getting ourselves into.”

“No, I don’t mind at all,” Finch assured him. “Well, it all started with the Big Bang….which was of course me hitting the floor.”

From the counter, Romeo let out a loud groan and Albert suppressed a laugh. He was glad Finch’s current situation had not affected his personality.

“I was at a warehouse with Buttons and Katherine,” he continued. “We knew that it was a point of contact for the gang and I wanted to scout the area. Buttons and Katherine were around the corner in the car on comms with the cameras and schematics pulled up. I was up on one of the ledges when an explosion went off, shoving me off and down about 10 feet. Then another explosion went off. I don’t remember anything after that but apparently part of the warehouse started falling apart. They told me a steel beam fell on me.”

Albert was at a loss for words. “Oh my god,” he whispered. And I let Race go undercover in that gang. “Are you gonna be okay?”

“You want the laundry list of stuff?” Finch asked, although he didn’t seem annoyed. “Then you can decide for yourself.”

“Um, sure,” Albert said.

“Well, my arm got blown off in the explosion,” he began, gesturing to his stump, just above where his elbow should have been. “I have a prosthetic, but I don’t like wearing it because it’s not the permanent one and it’s uncomfortable.” He paused. “When I fell off the ledge I landed on my back, which caused a dislocated hip and a T9 spinal fracture.”

“You’re not- you’re not paralyzed are you?” Albert stammered.

“Hold your horses, Al,” Finch smiled. “I’m getting there.” He paused, remembering where he had left off. “The beam that landed on me broke my left femur into 5 pieces, broke my left knee cap, and shattered my right lower leg. The beam also caused severe damage to my left femoral nerve which they think might have resulted in a degree of permanent femoral nerve dysfunction. And the shattered bones in my lower right leg completely severed my peroneal nerve, causing probably permanent peroneal nerve palsy. Also, the damage to my spinal cord resulted in incomplete paraplegia.”

Albert stared at him. “English please?”

Finch laughed. “I’m paralyzed from about here,” he pointed to several inches above his belly button, “down. But, since the injury was incomplete, my brain can still send some signals. I have about 50% feeling still from my hips down. In terms of movement, my left leg and hip are more immobile than my right, at least that’s what the doctors speculated, they won’t know for sure until my legs heal. Plus, all of the damage to the nerves in my legs kinda complicates things a little. But, I do have pretty good control of my abdominal muscles, about 75% of what it was and relatively no loss of feeling there so that’s good.”

“So, you are paralyzed?” Albert asked.

“Yes,” Finch said. “Both incomplete T9 paraplegia, and bilateral peripheral neuropathy.”

“Are you going to be able to walk again?” Albert stared at his friend with concern and sympathy.

Finch shrugged. “No one's really sure yet. Depends on how well everything heals and what my range of motion ends up being. I had surgery about a week ago on my right leg,” he pointed to the bandages encasing his right lower leg. “It was meant to relieve some of the pressure and hopefully give me a little movement. I have a scan next week to see how my left knee, leg and hip are healing and if they’re good I’ve got a chance of walking again. But, they have already told me that it will be difficult. Even if everything does heal properly, because of the severe nerve damage and spinal paralysis, I’ll still need braces, probably an HKAFO and forearm crutches or a walker which could be difficult considering….” he trailed off, gesturing to his missing arm.

“What’s an HK whatever it was?” Albert asked.

Finch shifted slightly, his face contorting with pain. He pointed to the brace around his lower back. “This is an HKAFO. It’s a brace that goes around your torso and hip area and then down your thigh, knee, ankle and foot. The one I’m wearing right now only goes around my left leg. Once it’s decided whether or not walking is in the question, another leg brace will get attached around my right leg. It’s kind of like an exoskeleton.”

Albert looked at his friend, letting all of that information sink in. Finch was paralyzed. Finch might never walk again. Finch had been injured while on the same case he had Race were on. “Dude, I am so sorry,” he finally said.

Finch brushed off his apology. “Why? Wasn’t your fault and there’s nothing you can do to change it.”

“I can help bring down the people who did it,” Albert reminded him.

Finch laughed, which Albert found odd considering the situation. “I’m sure you guys will. But I’m not one for revenge. Besides,” he smirked at Albert, “this is just a side effect of being a field agent.”

“Yeah I’m pretty sure they don’t cover amputation and paralysis in the orientation,” Romeo called from the counter.

Finch rolled his eyes. “Well, yeah. But I willingly signed up for this, I knew getting severely injured or dying was a possibility.”

Yeah, Albert thought. A possibility we all would like to forget exists.

“Besides,” Finch added. “I’m not dead, so that’s a plus.”

Albert stared at him in disbelief. “You’re missing half of your right arm and you can’t walk. How is any of this good?”

“Well for starters, I still have my left arm.” He waved it around for emphasis. “And I can get around just fine in a wheelchair. Plus I have a fantastic boyfriend to take care of me. The worst thing about all of this is that I can’t use my slingshot anymore.”

“I don’t understand how you’re so positive about all of this,” Albert said.

“Facing death makes you appreciate life, Albert,” Finch said. It would have been poetic if he didn’t sound so sarcastic.

Albert shrugged. He knew Finch was right, but he couldn’t stop picturing Race in his place. He didn’t think he could go through that.

Finch opened his mouth to say something, but then closed his eyes and scrunched up his face in pain. His breathing was loud and quick.

“Finch?” Albert said immediately, jumping out of his chair. “Finch what's wrong?”

“Get Buttons,” he said through clenched teeth. “And ice.”

Albert didn’t have to be told twice. He ran into the kitchen, skidding to a stop next to Buttons who was working at the grill.

Albert clamped a hand onto Buttons’s shoulder. “Finch needs you,” he said and Buttons’s eyes widened as he began to turn. “Look like he’s in pain. He asked for ice.”

“Okay,” Buttons said, calling over to one of the other workers in the kitchen and abandoning his station. He ran to the freezer and filled a bag with crushed ice before darting through the doors, Albert following close behind.

Finch was exactly where Albert left him. If he hadn’t been, Albert would have been worried. Buttons pulled up a chair directly in front of of Finch’s chair and gently lifted his right leg into his lap. He rolled up Finch’s sweatpants to the knee, revealing a brace around his lower leg and foot and thick bandaging. Then he pressed the ice bag to his boyfriends mangled leg.

A pleased sigh escaped Finch’s lips and he opened his eyes to look at Buttons. “Thanks babe,” he said.

“Of course,” Buttons responded. “Everything else okay?”

Finch nodded.

Buttons turned to Albert. “What kind of lies has he been telling you?”

“I didn’t tell him any lies!” Finch protested. “I told him what happened.”

Buttons rolled his eyes. “Yeah, and I bet you left out the part where you died for three minutes, and the part where they almost had to amputate not one but both of your legs, and the fact that you were in the ICU for almost a month before you were stable enough to be moved, and the part where you can barely sleep through the night without screaming in pain.”

“I was unconscious for most of those things,” Finch protested. “And I’m here now, so what does all that really matter?”

Buttons looked at Albert. “Is Race ever this stubborn about injuries?”

Albert considered for a moment. “Race isn’t usually the one who gets injured. That’s my job.”

Buttons sighed. “Consider yourself lucky.”

Albert thought back to the previous night’s events and how his efforts had gone to waste. He thought about how his hands had been shaking last night when he went to purchase Race’s advil. He thought about Race leaning into him last night as he guided him gently down the hall to their apartment. “Yeah,” he whispered, mostly to himself, “real lucky.”

Finch lifted his head and looked at Albert quizzically as if he were about to say something when Medda burst out of the back room calling his name.

“Albert!” she sang. “Would you be a dear and play these lovely customers some of your music?”

Albert smiled. “Of course Miss Medda.” He stood and began walking back towards the break room to grab his guitar. When he came back, Medda was talking to Finch about his condition.

“You feeling any better, baby?”

“A little bit,” Finch said as Albert began to tune his guitar. “Still a lot of pain, but we’re getting there.”

“That’s good, honey.”

Buttons adjusted the ice bag as Al plucked the E string. Finch winced slightly and Buttons picked up his hand and began to rub gentle circles into it with his thumb.

Guitar finally tuned, Albert moved toward the wood stove in the far corner of the coffee shop to begin playing. Medda usually had him play around 10 songs at a time.

He played a variety of slow indie coffee shop-esque songs and came down to the last one. He plucked a daw strings absently as he tried to decide what to play. His mind wandered for a few seconds before he decided.

He began to strum the opening chords before he sang.

“He’s watching the taxi driver he pulls away. He’s been locked up inside his apartment a hundred days. He says ‘yeah he’s still coming, just a little bit late, got stuck at the five and dime saving the day.’ He just watching the clouds roll by and they spell his name, like Lois Lane. But still he smiles, oh the way he smiles.”

Across the shop, Finch caught his eye, looking as if he were deep in thought.

“He’s talking to angels, counting the stars, making a wish on passing cars. He’s dancing with strangers, falling apart, waiting for Superman to pick him up in his arms, in his arms.”

Crap, Albert thought. He knows.

•••

Albert arrived back at his and Race’s apartment around 2 pm since he had had the morning shift at the coffee shop.

“Race?” He called out softly, hanging up his jacket and leaning up his skateboard against the wall. Apparently Oscar gave anyone involved in a heist the next day off so they could rest, sleep, tend to their wounds, etc. Since Race wasn’t in the kitchen or the living room, Albert assumed he might be napping.

He walked quietly down the hall to Race’s room and peeked inside. Sure enough, there was Race, curled up in an oversized sweatshirt and athletic pants, dozing gently on the bed.

Albert smiled and walked into the room, sitting down next to Race and pulling the throw blanket he kept at the end of the bed on top of him.

A few minutes later, Race began to stir. “Hey Albie,” he yawned, stretching slightly. “How was work?”

“It was okay,” Albert said, remembering Finch.

Race made a face, shifting to rest his head on Albert’s leg. “Your tone of voice and facial expression says otherwise,” he mumbled sleepily.

Albert laughed. Race could read him far too well. “Buttons brought Finch in today.”

“Oh, how is he? He was hurt on our case right?” Race had closed his eyes again.

“It’s bad, Race,” Albert whispered. “He lost most of his right arm, and he’s paralyzed. All those terms he told me….” Albert trailed off, thinking about all the medical shit Finch had told him. “There’s a good chance he won’t be able to walk again, Racer. And I just kept thinking, what if something like that happened to you?”

Race cracked open his eyes, staring up at his worried best friend and gently taking his hand. “I’m fine, Albie, there’s no need to worry about me,” Race reassured. “Last night went fine, I’m just a little beat up is all. I’ll be fine in a few days.”

“Are you sure hun?” Albert let the pet name slip out accidentally and he winced. He only called Race that when he was worried about him. But after last night, he had reason to be.

Race’s expression softened and he placed his hand on Albert’s leg. “Hey, hey. I’m okay,” he whispered.

“I know, I just,” Albert sighed, “I don’t want anything to happen to you.”

Race snorted. “Says the person who has more scars than freckles.”

Albert rolled his eyes.

“I’ve danced my whole life, Albie,” Race reminded him. “I have a crazy ability to overcome minor physical injury.”

Albert sighed again, lacing his fingers though Races. After a few minutes Race spoke up. “Lay down with me?” he whined.

“Of course.” Albert stretched out next to Race, looping his arm around his chest, relishing in the physical contact that proved that Race was, in fact, okay. At least for now.

_________

im sorry but it had to be done

if you have any questions about finch please ask hes gonna be around for awhile

there was a version where he died but were Done With That

also that song Albert was singing was waiting for superman by daughtry

again sorry

but also not

ALSO AMPUTATING FINCHS ARM WAS FIZZ’S IDEA NOT MINE I TAKE NO CREDIT SHE WANTED HIM TO “not be able to shoot his slingshot anymore”

huuuuuu

feedback is always appreciated hmu to be on the tag list

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[panticwritten]

Writing request! Carl and Sawyer (some version of you, I’m not sure where Carl usually fits in) have stumbled into the same dungeons and dragons forum and become closer through battling together (not 100% sure of Carl’s personality, be him not the type for this or totally the type). This can be a silly throw away or warmup up one since it is me.

Okay, so Cherry sent me this like forever ago. I wrote it, they read it because they live with me, but I forgot to actually post it! The name change to Kane is going smoothly, and I’m ready to never think about that asshole as Karl again lmaooooo

So, yeah, Kane and I play some DnD and he’s not subtle about anything ever at all. 

I’ll have to wait until after I post this to change the colors of the different people in the text chats because lord knows I look at those strings of chat-text and have a time sifting through it. Homestuck has spoiled me.

Word count: 2270

@asinwolves @avi-burton-writing @infinitelyblankpage @no-url-ideas-tho @jade-island-lives @ravenpuffwriter @spirit-wizard-nerd @steakfryday @alextriestowritestuff @cataclystr0phe  @perringwrites @davidvalencia323 @fluffpiggy @dont-trust-the-clogs @authorkimberlygrey @aclassilighthouse @cherrytying

I don’t think Kane knows I know.

If the smattering of ‘kid’ in our correspondences hadn’t tipped me off, it would definitely have been the way he made his character. I doubt anyone else would get the joke or see what he’s doing, but seriously? His character isn’t anything like him, of course.

If he were to be himself, he’d be a tiefling fighter. Either scout (ha) or cavalier archetype. He’d be a faction agent. Making a call between the chaotic alignments might be a shaky one sometimes. His attributes terribly skewed toward charisma and dexterity.

But he’s chosen a true neutral urchin. A mastermind rogue. An eladrin. The attributes are fairly balanced, save for dexterity always hovering above the others and strength a little lacking. Nothing like Kane. Not at all.

No, that’s the point.

He made a character that is exactly what I end up presenting myself as in the damn Cube. How I always play in console RPGs. Behavior just not erratic enough to be chaotic. Snarky and angry, never overtly because of the need to cover every goddamn emotion up. Inconsistent.

I’m not sure when I realized it was him. I thought it might be a member of the Collective when I first got the invitation from an unknown player. With Haz, j355, Hal, and Jax as mods of the server and tag-teaming as DMs, I slowly caught on to Kane’s game.

He’s making fun of me. He must have been playing with this character for some time, with their high level, and I wonder how long he’s been planning this.

It took me a little bit to even realize most of the similarities between myself and the character. My own character, a homebrew ice genesai, a brawler, bonded fairly quickly with them because they’re both urchins and saved each others’ asses when their time in the city overlapped.

He uses my lines, though. The whole ‘I’ll be fine’ shtick and his character has mentioned being a poet several times. After that, it took a few more days of play to start realizing it was him. That it was Kane playing such a long game.

The first time it occured to me, it was a bad call on what the endolin would do. We were looking for the deed to a seemingly abandoned manor. We hadn’t run into anything but low-level scavenging animals. In short, any good player would be a little on-edge and I was waiting for the other shoe to drop.

Halexander (MOD): Alright. The second you both clear the door, it slams shut behind you.Match (SeeSaw): Crap.Videre (ANON): whats in the room?Halexander (MOD): It’s a pretty nondescript room. Pretty small, almost looks like a study with three desks lining one wall and a bookshelf on another. There’s a couch shoved into a corner, looks like it was slept in recently.Match (SeeSaw): Can we roll investigation real quick?Halexander (MOD): Go for it, dude.Match (SeeSaw): 5Halexander (MOD): You notice that, unlike the rest of the place, there’s no dust. The whole room is swept clean of it. That’s it. The epitome of observation.Match (SeeSaw): Okay. Videre?Videre (ANON): nah im goodHalexander (MOD): You sure? Just gonna barge in there?Videre (ANON): the doors locked right what else can we do?Match (SeeSaw): Whatever. I’ll get a closer look at the couch.Videre (ANON): imma look at the closest desk while the kid does thatMatch (SeeSaw): Fuck youHalexander (MOD): I’ll put some form of that exchange as being in character.Match (SeeSaw): GoodMatch (SeeSaw): Now, the couchHalexander (MOD): To clarify, you’re both investigating different areas of the room?Match (SeeSaw): YesVidere (ANON): yeahHalexander (MOD): Excellent.

I was so used to the DMs at least pretending to need time to formulate responses that Hal’s immediate block of text took me by surprise.

Halexander (MOD): The two of you cross the room in different directions, as if by silent agreement. Match is slower, being more hesitant, so Videre gets to the desks first. Before you can do more than peer at the desk, however, there is a cry behind you. The bedding on the couch lashed out and has taken Match captive. Match, a blanket has one wrist and a facemask has bound itself over your eyes due to your proximity when the animation first occurred. Roll Initiative.Match (SeeSaw): Whaaaaat. Not cool. Okay, 16.Halexander (MOD): Enchanted Bedding got 12.Halexander (MOD): Videre?Videre (ANON): am i far enough away that i can stay out of order and keep looking through the drawers?

Uh.

Match (SeeSaw): What the fuck. I’m being attacked here, your rapier would take care of this in like two seconds.Videre (ANON): you dont know that. i have a feeling the deeds in here just give me a minuteHalexander (MOD): You can stay out of the fight if you want, but you still need to roll so we can keep this orderly.Videre (ANON): fineVidere (ANON): 8Halexander (MOD): Thanks for cooperating.Match (SeeSaw): Okay, first off, Match is never going to trust you again.Videre (ANON): he doesnt even know im helping yet. he cant see rememberMatch (SeeSaw): WHATEVERMatch (SeeSaw): Is the blanket pulling on me or just holding me there?Halexander (MOD): It’s tugging something fierce. The rest of the pile of blankets and pillows are writhing as if alive.Match (SeeSaw): I guess I’ll attack the blanket with that dinky little knife.Match (SeeSaw): “you should empty your bag in case you find good loot” THANKS VIDERE NOW I DONT HAVE MY GOOD WEAPONSVidere (ANON): hey you should know better than to listen to me by now kidMatch (SeeSaw): When we finish this, I will find you and kill you.Halexander (MOD): Also canon, in-character dialogue.Match (SeeSaw): YEET, crit. 5 damageMatch (SeeSaw): Don’t think you’re off the hook here, HalHalexander (MOD): I resent that.Halexander (MOD): And that’s including your proficiency?Match (SeeSaw): 6 damage.Halexander (MOD): That’s what I thought.Halexander (MOD): You slash blindly at the blanket. You manage to cut the corner holding you clean off. You’re still blinded, but you’re free to move.Match (SeeSaw): OKAY YEAH I BACK THE FUCK UP AND ASK VIDERE WHAT THE FUCK THEYRE DOINGHalexander (MOD): You stumble back into the door.Match (SeeSaw): Hold up just a fucking second

I scrolled up to reread the chat.

Match (SeeSaw): Can I try opening the door?Halexander (MOD): Unfortunately, you’ve exhausted your turn. The mass of blankets shoots out another piece but cannot quite reach you in its haste. Obviously, you don’t actually see this because: The blindfold begins to tighten around your eyes. That’s it for that, what’s next on the agenda?Videre (ANON): how many of these drawers could i search in one turn?Halexander (MOD): Two.Videre (ANON): how many drawers in each desk?Halexander (MOD):Three.Videre (ANON): ill search two drawers in the first deskHalexander (MOD): Alrighty then. The first drawer is full of vials and tubes. Most of them stand empty, but there is a vial each of blue, red, and orange liquid. The second contains a weathered journal.Videre (ANON): ill snag those three vials and pocket the journalHalexander (MOD):Of course you will.Match (SeeSaw): Can I open the door now.Halexander (MOD): Since Sherlock Holmes over here can’t do much else, I’ll bite. The door, amazingly, shockingly, opens once you manage to find it with the blindfold currently limiting your sight and putting increasing pressure on your skull.Match (SeeSaw): Okay, we’re dumb.Match (SeeSaw): Videre, the door’s open, let’s get the hell out of here!Videre (ANON): im not doneMatch (SeeSaw): Are you serious right now.Halexander (MOD): Better make the rest of your turn good.Match (SeeSaw): K. I cut the string on the blindfold and join that IDIOT at the desksHalexander (MOD): I’m honestly just gonna take that as a free action.Match (SeeSaw): Sweet. Can I search a drawer?Halexander (MOD): You definitely can.Match (SeeSaw): I’ll start on the middle desk, I guess.Match (SeeSaw): I’ll deal with YOU later, VidereVidere (ANON): looking forward to itHalexander (MOD): The drawer holds a dusty lab coat. That’s it.Match (SeeSaw):Why the fuck not, I’ll take it.Halexander (MOD): You done?Halexander (MOD): Just kidding, I know you are. The blanket wraps around your ankle to pull your feet out from under you. Roll for acrobatics to see if you eat shit.Match (SeeSaw): Jesus fuck.Match (SeeSaw): 10Halexander (MOD): You slam your face into the desk on the way down. Take 1d4 damage for that, and your nose is bleeding.Match (SeeSaw): Why are you doing this to me.Halexander (MOD): You chose to let me design this campaign. What did you think would happen?Match (SeeSaw):2Halexander (MOD): While you’re down, another blanket catches you by the wrist. Again. Go, Videre.Videre (ANON): two more drawersHalexander (MOD): The first is full of pieces of metal. Mostly junk, nuts and bolts. The second is empty, so I’ll knock the action down and let you open another one.Match (SeeSaw): IF YOU WANT TO KEEP YOUR HANDS AFTER THIS YOU WILL HELP ME RIGHT NOWVidere (ANON): yeah ill open another drawer. that leaves three left right

They searched every single drawer before helping me, by which time I was almost dead and being smothered by a pillow. They found the deed and I chewed them out on the way back to town. They said they knew I would be fine, they needed to find the deed, and there was no harm done.

Having already seen the parallels this anonymous player was making between their character and myself, I bristled at my computer.

Match (SeeSaw): Don’t think I don’t know what you’re doing. You won’t stay anonymous forever.Videre (ANON): oh im so scaredVidere (ANON): are you gonna come kick the shit out of me over a dumb game? give it up and find something else to obsess over if youre gonna be like that kidVidere (ANON): im just staying in character

And I had a good idea who was on the other side of the computer after that. Especially after I found out he’d done a covert investigation check with Hal instead of sharing with me. He knew there was an enemy in the room before we even entered. Was likely planning on using me as a distraction from the beginning.

The next time he surprised me, we were working for the owner of an orphanage to find ways to exploit parents interested in adoption. Match goes along with it because why not. Also because fuck adults.

But Videre surprised both me and Jax.

Jaxabandit (MOD): u want to what?Videre (ANON): buy the orphanageMatch (SeeSaw): We won’t get paid if you do that.Videre (ANON): im gonna assume that was in character and not in this whole ‘ooc’ space or whateverMatch (SeeSaw): Duh. The guy’s slimy and gross. But just because you have money doesn’t mean Match does. He needs the paycheck.Videre (ANON): think of it this wayVidere (ANON): if dicks like this werent in power match wouldnt have grown up on the streetsMatch (SeeSaw): That’s not how he thinks about shit and you know it.Videre (ANON): and hes not the one holding a huge sack of gold right now

I didn’t know what to think. By this point, I knew it was Kane. The fact that I asked Haz helps, but I know the way he talks to me. He’s the only one that would do this and keep up with it for so long.

So now, I’m not exactly sure what to do.

Match just died, like D-E-D, dead, and Videre is flipping the fuck out. The two of them had become fairly close friends. They were snarky and prickly toward each other, but they were partners in crime and would likely kill for each other.

Videre gets really scary in the final stretch of that fight.

I didn’t realize Kane thought so highly of my intimidation skills. I didn’t think he thought highly of me at all, not outside of work. I was just a tool and a weapon and something to either give orders to or take orders from.

But Videre is a force of nature toward the end. Being a mastermind rogue, they confuse the ice devil as well as fighting it. They show a lot of skill they didn’t before, turning a few unlucky rolls into happy mistakes. Even they seem surprised when they win.

Videre (ANON): wellVidere (ANON): i guess i know what its like to be you nowThe Old Hazzle Dazzle (MOD): Are you done now, Kane?Videre (ANON): wow cats out of the bagMatch (SeeSaw): You’re awful at hiding who you are, though.Match (SeeSaw): Also, you’re an assholeThe Old Hazzle Dazzle (MOD): Did you want to make a new character and keep going? Or call it quits for now?Match (SeeSaw): I think I’m done. I gotta go challenge Kane to a fist fight.Videre (ANON):gotta find me first

- Videre (ANON): has left the chat -

He’ll have to try a hell of a lot harder than that to get out of actually hanging out with me like a person.

[spadesinglasses]

Avengers Endgame (Movie)

specifically that ending we are all aware about.

spoilers to the whole thing, this is a complete rant and if yer gonna be critical about how much of a casual fan I am, then please don’t waste time reading everything I wrote. Just move on to the next post.

From what I saw while reading the stucky tag here’s the summarized version.

Steve fucked off to the 40′s to live a life he apparently wanted.

and in doing so created a timeline where :

A Steve Rogers will forever be stuck in Ice (because Endgame!Steve took his place and made all search for him stop)

Has two endings for the Bucky in that timeline (either he was saved before Endgame!Steve settled down and is now happily living his heterosexual life somewhere, or that Alt!Bucky is still in the hands of Hydra.

And if Endgame!Steve decided to go back to that hetero timeline after delivering the shield to Sam Wilson, our timeline is now a world without Steve Rogers aka he will be shown as someone who died for the world etc.

Or they could just say that his location is classified information yada yada.

In our timeline if Steve did went back to his now new timeline, I hope that Bucky will not feel abandoned or alone. He is someone who just voiced out whether he was worth all of it or not. You can’t just expect me to believe that that kind of insecurity and doubt of self worth is cured just like that.

I’ve read a headcanon where Steve and Bucky talked about it and how Steve was doubting it but Bucky was the one who gave him the final push, hence the last goodbye and knowing looks/sadness.

I could guess that if we’re going with that, Bucky didn’t know that Steve will come back just to drop off the shield, hence that surprised look when he saw Steve on the bench.

Now there’s hope that in Steve’s new timeline, no Shannon will be alive. Steve will probably veto everyone’s decision to give that name to someone’s daughter. He’ll be like “From here on out, any spelling, pronunciation etc of the name Shanon is banned in our family line.”

Now to address the idea that Steve is robbing the new Peggy the life that our Peggy had. The thing is, the Peggy in that timeline have not yet forged a life with the husband she got in our timeline, and with Endgame!Steve yeeting himself there, then that option is completely obliterated. Peggy of our timeline is still the same. The Peggy with E!Steve is now in a different one having a different life and all that. 

Now, the idea that Steve somehow apparently is okay with just picking any Peggy in any timeline is probably not right. When Steve went back to the 1940′s that is technically the same Peggy that he loved up to the point where he went under ice. So in a way that Peggy in the new timeline is still the same, what changed is what happened after Endgame!Steve went there and lived there.

I just want to say something.

Me not getting the ending I wanted doesn’t mean the movie is shitty in a general sense. A lot of people loved it, a lot of people are content with it and I’m not going to invalidate the happiness they got from the film just because I did not like it, and with that I also want to say that I am not happy with the film.

I would love a proper funeral for Natasha, it doesn’t have to be a huge thing but damn at least have more than just the original avengers be in her funeral. The newcomers also should mourn for her, Natasha deserve that at least. I was expecting the people who met Natasha to be there even if they are not best buds. It’s all about respecting who Natasha was.

I was not happy with Thor, but I do understand that people deal with grief in different ways. 

I’m annoyed with Quill but that is more of a personal thing. I just can’t take away Chris Pratt’s face away from that character. I’m working on it tho. (No promises tho)

SAM WILSON MY MAN. I wholeheartedly love, support and will forever be there for him in spirit and soul.

Sam Wilson goddamn deserve to be Captain America, for others to finally appreciate the work he puts in. He’s not a jacked up with a serum kind of superhero, but goddamn boy really be there in the frontlines with just wings.

I hope he gets an equipment upgrade befitting his new role. And no I don’t want him to be like Steve Rogers. Heck we don’t want that. America needs to fucking accept Sam Wilson as who he is. And if I have to strangle everyone so they can stop being shitty, I will do so.

I have full confidence that Sam will be a great CA.

I would not be happy with Bucky being CA if they went to that path. Bucky wants to clear his red marks by his own power, his own will and his own self. Giving him the title would not only be faced by huge resistance, but also Bucky would not a huge band aid to just slap against the mistakes he wanted to right. 

Bucky deserves a redemption by his own hands and not some title they want to give him.

Me going back to Bucky. I have to ready myself for future because I am already nervous about who they will pair Bucky with. Only if to quell the fans.

Since I haven’t seen Bucky in MCU state that he is heterosexual. There is a chance that he will be paired with a woman or a man. I have a whole thing regarding this part but ya know what fuck it im done.

hmmm i lost my train of thought here.

I’m not even going to dive into the whole plot storyline writing thing going on there because i just can’t give a shit anymore with how they could’ve done the whole stone thing differently.

Ah lastly, the infamous “lgbt” representation by our dear Russo.

Fuck him. Apparently that was the hyped representation. What a fucking joke.

Well at least we got Steve canonically not being homophobic then. Take that fans who say that Steve does not approve of homosexuality. Fuck you.

All in all, I can count off at least two stuff I like about the movie. 

The end battle was basically like the War of Wakanda so meh. 

I am annoyed that they made Endgame some kind of intro for Carol. I wish she got more scenes there.

I loooove Pepper’s fight scene tho.

It is a fan gratification movie all in all, the storyline is simple and uncomplicated not the way Civil War is.

zhmm what else.

Oh yeah I’m probably done actively anticipating future marvel movies, specially if I don’t know jack shit about what’s it gonna be. So yeah I would be reading spoilers first before deciding whether its worth to be watched on the cinema or not.

As of now, what I’m looking forward to at the tags in tumblr is Captain America Sam Wilson, Bucky scenes, Carol scenes, future character scenes, and actual lgbt+ representation.

To conclude this little rant. 

I ranted, whined and wailed because I did not get the ending I wanted. I got disappointed despite not having that much of a high expectation. 

This rant doesn’t mean that Endgame is generally a shitty movie. No, it’s just shitty in my own perspective because once again canon defeated me.

So to all fans who shout at casual fans for being too casual, or comic book fanatics who want to rip my head off for not liking what is canon, please don’t waste your energy.

I got into the fandom, the whole MCU because of Stucky, SO yes I will be fucking pissed because they took that away from me just like that. 

I WOULD EVEN BE CONTENT WITH THEM BEING PLATONIC BROS AS LONG AS THEY WILL FACE THE MCU TIMELINE TOGETHER, BUT NOOO.

Whatever. I’m happy for Endgame!Steve whatever. He got what he wanted no matter the cost.