#and then his brain catches up and it's 2001
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I’m Just Dying to Be Him (18+)
Pairing: bottom/sub!Steve x top/dom!Billy x switch/sub!Eddie
Summary: While Steve and Billy are in the midst of a rendez-vous in the woods, none other than Eddie Munson catches them, and maybe he watches longer than he should.
Warnings: swearing, mentions of blood and a fight. 18+ smut: anal sex, sir kink?, masturbation, voyeurism, exhibitionism, threesome (technically) and cum eating. (Eddie’s a perv in this but for now, Billy and Steve will allow it.)
Word Count: 2001
A/N: For my C1 square “Accidental Voyeurism” for @billyhargrovebingo and A3 Square “secret desire” for @harringroveson-bingo . Title taken from the second verse of “Sugar We’re Goin’ Down” by Fall Out Boy. Tbh, the minute a title of a fic I write isn’t inspired by a song will be the day we’re in the apocalypse. As always, kisses to @writer-in-theory for hyping me up and being the best beta reader. <3
Follow me on my main: @serenity-lattes
IF YOU CLICK "KEEP READING" YOU ARE ACKNOWLEDGING THAT YOU ARE 18 YEARS OLD OR ABOVE AND ARE AWARE OF THE CONTENT WARNINGS LISTED ABOVE.
Billy Hargrove and Steve Harrington were the rivalry of the century. Steve was the reigning king of Hawkins, the keg king, the most sought after guy in town… until Hargrove moved into town. After that, Billy managed to snatch every golden crown from Steve’s head and make him look like just another ordinary guy. It started with an argument in the locker room after everyone had left the showers.
“Every time you speak, my brain gets angry,” Steve shouts, smacking the handle of the shower into the off position. Billy was still washing the suds from his blonde locks and simply looked at Steve, amused, which seemed to piss Harrington off more.
“What?” he grumbles, taking a towel to dry the water droplets from his chest.
Billy shuts the water off and steps into Steve’s space, gently pushing his shoulder, walking them backwards until Steve’s back is pressed against the chilly tiles. He drew his lower lip between his teeth, murmuring, “Maybe so, but it would seem your body is very attracted to me.”
Steve glares at Billy, ignoring the way the blood rushed straight to his cock with Billy’s mouth just mere inches away from his own. His eyes flicker over Billy’s face and he groans, “fuck it,” just before practically crashing their lips together. It’s all teeth and tongue, but it’s steamy and probably the hottest thing he’s ever felt. Billy’s grasping at his waist, his ass, his thighs, and Steve can not stop from moaning, despite the potential of someone walking in.
Billy breaks the kiss far too soon for Steve’s liking and he smirks, brushing his thumb along Steve’s lower lip, “Meet me in the woods by the Quarry tonight, we can pick up where we left off.”
And that was how Steve found himself being bent over the front of the Camaro that night.
Just nearby, Eddie Munson was closing out a drug sale to some guy on the swim team. Normally he would have done this near the picnic bench behind the school, but the guy seemed too nervous and felt like doing it at night in the middle of the woods. It felt more suspicious, but his wallet was forty dollars fuller. Though, just as he was about to open the door to his van, a drawn out groan caught his attention, and against his better judgment, Eddie decided to go investigate.
Eddie furrowed his brows, slowly navigating the brush as he got closer to the noise. The first thing he could see was a familiar burgundy BMW and blue Camaro. What the hell were Harrington and Hargrove doing out here, let alone out here together? They were rivals, the talk of the school, of the town. He could hear a loud grunt, making his heart rate pick up. Were they fighting? Poor Harrington. He lost in a fight to Jonathan Byers, how was he going to fare against Billy Hargrove?
“Fuck!” Eddie just barely picked up on Harrington’s voice above the blood rushing in his ears. He inched closer to the cars, not wanting to make a sound yet. If this was a fight, he wanted the advantage. He caught a glimpse of Hargrove’s golden locks illuminated in the moonlight.
“Shut up, Harrington,” Hargrove grunted, followed by the sound of a slap.
Oh, boy.
Eddie moved even closer, so he could see just what was going on between the two cars. He expected to see Harrington beaten bloody on the ground, not bent over the hood of Hargrove’s precious Camaro, Hargrove’s fist in his chestnut locks, tugging his head back as he thrust his cock into his ass.
“Billy, please,” Steve gasped, clenching his fists, as there was nothing for him to grab on to. Billy’s cock stretched him out perfectly, hit all the right spots, and all Steve wanted to do was watch Billy’s face, see the way he scrunched his eyebrows and set his jaw.
Billy could not conceal the smirk, he knew the effect he had on the fallen king. He slapped Steve’s asscheek again and jerked his head back a little more, “please, what?”
Eddie knew he should walk away, but god damn, there was something about the scene before him. Without even realizing it, he was palming himself over his jeans, stifling a gasp. At this moment, he did not know if he was more jealous of Harrington or Hargrove.
The sound heard next was something akin to a cry, enough to make any guy cream his pants, “please, sir,” Steve licked at his drying lips and reached back to grasp Billy’s hand, “Wa- Wanna see you,” Steve whined, making the tent in Eddie’s pants harden even more.
Billy smirked, pulling out of Steve long enough for the man to lay on his back against the Camaro. He grabbed ahold of Steve’s legs, lifting them up to rest on either of his shoulders before pressing a kiss to his right calf.
“What do you think they’d say if they found out you were such a cock slut for me, huh?” Billy’s tongue darted out, wetting his lips as he grabbed ahold of his cock with his other hand and slowly slid back into Steve’s ass before grabbing hold of his muscular thighs.
Steve gasped, head falling back against the cool hood of Billy’s car as Billy bottomed out into him.
“Ah, shit,” he grasped at Billy’s hand, fingertips turning white from the grip, “do not care.”
Eddie carefully unfastened his belt and unbuttoned his jeans before pulling his cock out. He wrapped a fist around it, stroking it slowly as he imagined he was fucking Harrington’s little asshole. Fuck, this was filthy. Eddie put his free hand over his mouth, stifling any noises threatening to spill from his lips. He knew this was wrong. He knew he should just get the hell out of there and rub one out in his van or wait until he got back to the trailer, but this was doing far more for him than his imagination could ever.
There were so many times after Steve and Billy had it out for each other during basketball days in gym class, Eddie would go home and jerk off to the thought. He would close his eyes and picture being above Steve like that, the pretty boy sweaty and frustrated, and whining. Meanwhile, beside them was Billy pressing sloppy, open-mouthed kisses to Eddie’s shoulder while he went down on Steve.
But now? He could be ashamed later. This is the next best thing and he can commit this scene to memory forever. He pumped his cock in time with Billy’s thrusts and it felt so good, too good, in fact. Just as Eddie was about to cum, his stomach sank for a completely different reason. Billy Hargrove’s baby blues were staring into his own. Eddie’s fist stilled, orgasm running for the hills.
Fuck.
He quickly shoves his cock back into his underwear and prepares to run, but before he does, Billy winks at him. He fucking winks.
Billy only smirks, bending down to capture Steve’s lips in a kiss. It was not sweet and tender, but sloppy and desperate, showing Eddie what he could not have. He stops thrusting into Steve, causing him to let out a lewd whine. He then whispers something to Steve that Eddie can not hear. Steve startles a bit, looking around until his eyes land on Eddie hiding behind the brush of the woods.
Double fuck.
Steve turns back to Billy, nodding slowly. For what, Eddie has no idea.
“Hey Munson, c’mere,” Billy calls out, tone commanding.
Great. Either Eddie faces the consequences of his own actions right this moment, by getting scolded for watching, beat up, or both, or he just waits until tomorrow at school. Well. Best get it over with, then.
“God dammit,” Eddie mutters, walking out from behind the brush to the clearing where Hargrove and Harrington were parked, “Look, I’m-”
Billy interrupts him with a tsk, merely beckoning him over with a motion of his hand, “I said come here. Do not make me ask again.”
Eddie picks up the pace and walks over to Billy, pretending the blush on his cheeks does not exist. He’s mortified he got caught, but something about it being by Billy Hargrove made it worse. He was dead meat.
“You wanna watch so badly, all ya had to do was ask,” Billy snaps his hips forward, making Steve gasp, “Wanna watch me fuck Stevie here?”
Eddie swallows the lump in his throat and simply nods, not trusting his voice. Billy seems satisfied enough with his answer and begins thrusting into Steve again, working himself back up to his previous rhythm. He grunts, ready to cum with the way Steve keeps clenching around him.
Steve peers into Billy's eyes, moaning with each thrust, each one getting more broken. Eddie bites his lip and tilts his head a little to watch the way Billy’s cock keeps disappearing into Steve’s ass. It’s a wonder how Steve takes the whole thing.
“You wanna touch him, Munson?” Billy hums, feeling himself get closer to his own climax, as he watches Steve’s face scrunch tighter with each passing moment, “That okay with you, baby?”
Steve nods his head, reaching out to dig his fingertips into Billy’s hands as they held onto his thighs, “Jerk me off, Munson.”
Eddie did not have to be told twice. He stepped closer, taking Steve’s cock in his hand. It was pretty, just like him- shaven, smooth, and pink. Eddie jerked Steve off slowly at first, not wanting to overstimulate him so quickly. What an experience it was, though, watching King Steve be fucked like this, watching him slowly fall apart by the hands of Billy Hargrove and Eddie “the freak” Munson.
“Fuck! Don’t- don’t stop,” Steve moans loudly, head falling back against the hood of the car, knowing damn well he was spurring Billy on. Eddie’s own cock was straining against his pants more than it already was. Watching this up close? This was going to ruin his porn mags forever. Seeing the way Steve’s cheeks were pink, feeling his warm, leaking cock in his hand, and seeing each and every little mole that kissed his skin. Then Billy… his tone, tanned chest he always galivanted around gym class, his thick cock fucking Steve Harrington senseless.
Eddie whimpered quietly as Steve came undone beneath them. He shuttered, spilling cum all over Eddie’s hand, clenching around Billy’s cock. Billy was close behind, grunting for a few more thrusts before stilling as he moaned lowly. He pulled out of Steve, cum seeping out of Steve’s ass. Eddie lets go of Steve, ready to wipe Steve’s cum on the hem of his shirt, but Billy catches his wrist.
“You’re gonna be filthy, you’re gonna act the part,” Billy smirks, “lick up every. last. drop.”
Eddie’s eyes widen, but he complies, licking up Steve’s warm release, his dark eyes boring into Billy’s.
“Good. Now fuck off, if I catch you pulling a stunt like this again, I’ll pound you until you’re seeing stars. Got it?”
Eddie nods stiffly and scurries off, disappearing into the brush to head back to his van. He was most certainly going to jerk off the moment he got to his van. Billy glares at his disappearing form and finally pulls out of Steve, cock slowly softening. Steve whines at the loss of contact and reaches out for Billy, pulling him in for a needy kiss.
“Christ on a cross, it’s not everyday you learn somethin’ new ‘bout yourself,” he mumbles, climbing up onto the car so he could lay between Steve’s thighs while they made out. Steve made a non-committal noise, but he was not registering words, still in the post-orgasm haze.
Tonight was certainly a new discovery. Billy was more less trying to psych Munson out, he hadn’t expected the sex to be that much hotter. They may just have to invite Munson to join more often.
NSFW: Masterlist
SFW: Masterlist
Harringroveson Bingo Masterlist
Billy Hargrove Bingo Masterlist
#after dark#stranger things smut#harringrove smut#minors dni#Harringrove#Steve Harrington x billy Hargrove#eddie munson#stranger things#stranger things fanfiction#harringroveson#steddilly#stilldie#harringroveson bingo#billy hargrove bingo#Harringroveson smut#Steddilly smut#bottom!steve harrington#top!billy hargrove#switch!eddie munson#sub!steve harrington#dom!billyhargrove#sub!eddie munson
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Fun fact for the Beaststars AU: assuming the JoJoverse has the same lunar calendar as the real world there would have been a full moon on April 7, 2001. Aka the DAY AFTER GOLDEN WIND. As if Giorno doesn't have enough to deal with...
👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀
I didn't know that, but I am YOINKING and also merging this with Generally How I Think The End Of Golden Wind Might Go so-
just. It's the last day. The body swap happens and Giorno starts panicking. Not because of any worries about secrets or anything, but because mentally he's still in his beast form. His Fox Bug Brain is loosing its shit because not only is it somehow back in a human form when it didn't change, but he seemingly can't change back. His senses are all out of whack because of the differing biology and the sudden change in size and number of limbs, which is made even WORSE by the fact that this isn't even his regular human body
He's able to manage some sounds, maybe a short word or two, but most higher understandings are completely beyond his comprehension. As for walking....... it's a mixed bag. He can't go very fast and is incredibly unsteady, so he spends almost the whole time glued to "Trish's" (Mista's) side out of general fear and unease. It's honesty a 50/50 on whether Giorno's even able to comprehend what's going on with the body swapping, and even if he can it's definitely going to take a moment
on the plus side, Narancia doesn't have to die because Diavolo isn't sure whether to target the weird Fox Bug Thing :D
but yeah, things continue, Polnareff explains the situation to everyone (who's all still alive because Giorno went with Trish and Bucciarati up the tower and stuck around with Abbacchio on the beach) (Polnareff also has some suspicions about Giorno and starts slowly thinking his situation could be similar to the Joestar's), and they head out to get the Arrow and beat Diavolo's ass
eventually they catch up, and things mostly happen as normal for a bit, the souls all swap back and Giorno's back in his body
and then the Arrow gets thrown, sailing through the air in his direction
it's been days since he'd been found by the Bucci Gang. And despite all the chaos and danger and fighting and blood...... being with them has been the safest Giorno's felt in his entire life. They cared about him, he was allowed to exist as a beast around them and stay safe and unharmed. He wanted to keep that
He wanted to keep them
and for the first time in days, Giorno's mind snaps back to pure clarity as a single thought rushes through his entire being
Protect them
his leaps into the air, higher than he had ever dared before, letting his wings unfurl to carry him even further. He catches the Arrow easily, and just as he lands on the ground its metal meets the mystic flesh of Gold Experience. His body warps and changes alongside Gold, exoskeleton and faux-metal breaking away, both growing and changing and becoming something else. One reverting back to a state he'd lost touch with, the other becoming something completely new
Diavolo didn't stand a chance and the Bucci Gang can only stare in silent shock
unfortunately in the One(1) second Giorno takes to relax after Diavolo is defeated, the shock and stress of everything finally catch up with him. He was in his beast form for nearly a week without any changing back which wasn't the best for his human health (different dietary needs and all (he's not starving since the beast form is where most of the metabolism is going but he's not in peak condition and is probably going to be VERY hungry when he wakes up)) and the sudden shock to his system really isn't great. It also didn't help that Giorno doesn't change forms much so the shock is even worse and also a bit painful
so yeah, he passes the fuck out leaving the Bucci Gang to panic about What The FUCK Just Happened. Currently their best working theory is GER turned Giorno into a human, and GER isn't saying anything because It Really Doesn't Care Much and Polnareff is hesitant to say anything otherwise because he's know this kind of thing is usually kept secret and he isn't sure if Giorno's comfortable with sharing
so they head over to a safe house, the day passes as they treat their injures, Giorno's still unconscious, nobody has any idea what's happening, and things just get MORE confusing when the sun sets and Giorno suddenly starts changing back. GER is mostly unhelpful in explaining things, but Giorno wakes up and is acting mostly normal. He's a bit off, but it's nothing too crazy. He's...... temperamental isn't the right word, but he seems to be more emotional in a sense. He's way more affectionate but also a bit jumpier and seems to have less understanding of them and their words. My thoughts is that the Full Moon Turnings kinda..... wrap their brains in more layers of cotton. Their control and general mental state is much more detached and not as strong. Best case scenario they'll have some faint memories, but most of the time they won't remember anything at all
and of course come morning, the change back
it's....... more than a little disorienting, but his head is clearer then it's been all week so he considers it a plus. Heck, he's never felt this good after waking up from a Forced Transformation in his life! Nothing hurts and he doesn't feel anxious!!!
the explanation is a tad awkward at first. For a bit of crack, during the first half both sides were on COMPLETELY different pages. The Bucci Gang were still under the impression Giorno is a freshly "born" human, and Giorno thinks they know about their werecreature thing. Of course, when that's cleared up there's the question of why he only changed back during that last moment of the fight and why he was freaking out when he was in Narancia's body, at which comes the explanation of...... well, he couldn't
it's a bit uncomfortable to explain the emotional aspect and impact when it comes to his beast form. He has to explain how his mind clouds over, how high stress and strong emotions can influence it, and...... well, how he's never been safe in his beast form before. How this week with them had been the most accepted and safest he'd ever been in his entire life and well....... it's not difficult to connect the dots when they'd all seen the countless scars littering the beast's body
it's incredibly personal, but he wants them to understand. Maybe it's his beast part influencing him, making him more open to trust these people who by all accounts he's only known for a week, but despite the uneasiness in his gut he can't bring himself to regret it
it's at this point Polnareff ends up stepping in and mentions how he knows people like Giorno. That he isn't as alone as he thinks, that there are others out there, an entire family, who could offer him a lot more explanations so he wouldn't have to figure out things as he went
so....... yeah now I have a mental image of a Giant Joestar Creature Cuddle Pile <3
#beaststars#jjba#jojo’s bizarre adventure#golden wind#golden wind spoilers#jjba part 5#jjba giorno#giorno giovanna#gold experience#gold experience requiem#jjba diavolo#diavolo#jjba mista#guido mista#jjba trish#trish una#jjba narancia#narancia ghirga#jjba bucciarati#bruno bucciarati#jjba abbacchio#leone abbacchio#jjba polnareff#jean pierre polnareff#bucci gang#sb answers#continui
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hiii it is midnight so i'm gonna do this tag game that i've been sitting on for a month sorry @schoolhater 💔 but i want to make the effort i miss tag games :')
last song listened to: telephone wire from fun home....i don't have many musical numbers saved to my library but god...songs that make you disintegrate (positively) (painfully)
currently watching: i literally juuust finished catching up with good omens with my friends because one of them (hi jerm) wanted to show it to us for the first time! i'm also currently in the middle of heaven's official blessing/tgcf at another good friend's (vithu!) behest....and i also just finished up young justice (💔 trying not to put commentary for all these shows so this doesn't end up super long but GOD it's Bad) with my buddy robin. i also have plans to start watching season 1 of chucky later this week 😈
also want to put in some movies i've seen recently so here are my most recent 5: halloween (1978), 2001: a space odyssey (1968), the lobster (2015), insidious (2010), palm springs (2020). probably liked space odyssey the best out of all of these lol but the lobster was very weird in a way i liked
currently reading: delicious: the evolution of flavor and how it made us human, by rob dunn and monica sanchez! it's fascinating though a bit eurocentric. currently reading a chapter on how french monks pioneered cheesemaking techniques 👍🏾
current obsession: probablyyy better call saul, i just finished watching it a month ago and he is forever rotating in my brain. jimmy-chuck dynamic in particular drives me a special kind of insane i cannot even begin to express. also uhm this is currently my most used discord emoji so probably him too
^dead chucky
tagging @astagfirulah @soulproof @levitated-ruin @vwampires @cirrates 👍🏾 i never really know how many people to tag but 5 seems like a good number
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to find promise of peace (and the solace of rest): a TMA fanfic
<< Beginning < Prev || AO3 || My Website
Chapter 77: July 2001
Gerry moves as carefully and quietly as he can, boots in hand, paying special attention to the floorboards. It’s not that it’s early, or at least not so early that his mother is sleeping…which is part of the problem, really, that she’s awake and likely to hear him if he’s not cautious. So he concentrates on each step, putting his weight just right, moving as slowly and smoothly as possible so nothing rattles or jingles, trying to summon his inner Martin—he’s always been extremely light on his feet, it’s almost uncanny at times. If he can just make it to the steps without—
“Gerard? Come in here.”
Ah. Shit.
For a split second, Gerry considers pretending he didn’t hear her and making a break for it, but she will come after him, or send someone after him, and he doesn’t know who—or what—she’s in league with this week. He quickly sets his boots down and steps into them before opening the door and coming through, trying to swagger like he’s walking around with his shoes untied on purpose. “Yes, Mum?”
His mother peers at him over the top of her pince-nez glasses, her habitual scowl in place. She never wears those glasses where anyone but him or Aunt Lily—or sometimes Melanie and Martin—can see; she’s incredibly vain about a lot of things. Even Uncle Roger doesn’t know she wears them. “Were you going somewhere?”
Gerry considers his options for a split second, then shrugs. “Out.”
His mother waits, but he doesn’t elaborate. For once, she chooses not to push him. “Pick up a bottle of aspirin while you’re at it. And be back in an hour. We have a train to catch.”
“Where are we going?” Gerry tries to remember if there’s something planned he’s forgotten about. He doesn’t think so. He would have said something to Melanie and Martin if they did. They’ve been making plans, or at least firm intentions, for their summer break for weeks now, and today’s the first real day of it. He can probably put them off for a day, though, as long as his mother wants to go somewhere local.
“Brussels,” his mother replies, dashing that hope instantly, and then further crushes it by adding, “To start with, anyway. My contact wants to meet us there and will take us where we need to go after.”
Gerry definitely doesn’t like the sound of that. It could mean they’re going somewhere within walking distance. It could mean they’re meeting someone with a personal car or a private plane. It could also mean they’re going to point him at the mouth of a pitch-black cave and tell him to go retrieve whatever’s inside it. It definitely does not mean he wants to go.
“Do I have to go with you?” The words pop out of his mouth before he can stop them, or even think about them.
As soon as his brain catches up to his tongue, everything inside him goes cold. He has never, not once, not in his entire life, argued with his mother about one of these expeditions. She says come along and he comes—sometimes dragging his feet, sometimes shaking in his boots, but always, always doing what she asks, demands really, without question or pause. He’s never refused to go, or asked if there was another option. Because he knows there isn’t. There is only his mother, and what his mother wants.
The resentment over that has been building for a while, at least since November, when the trip took just a little longer, Gerard and he missed Melanie’s birthday. It’s been fueled by listening to Melanie and Martin talk about school and activities and the like. Gerry’s never been particularly interested in attending a traditional school, he learns plenty, but it’s been slowly dawning on him (more slowly than it should have) that what he’s learning is what his mother wants him to learn, not always what he needs to know. Or even wants to know. He might not have a lot of use for some of the things in Martin’s maths book, but it looks fascinating. He’s even been considering making an argument for him to attend the local school starting in the fall, just to get an official diploma.
He knows what she’ll probably say to that—common schools are for common children, and you have the blood of the Von Closens in your veins—but he has no idea what she’ll say to him whining about getting dragged off on one of her work trips again.
Mary Keay removes her glasses to hit him with the full force of her glare. His instinct is to apologize, to back down immediately, but he holds his tongue. She’s going to be furious with him either way. He might as well be honest.
After several long moments of silence, she says coldly, “What else would you do, Gerard?”
“Stay in London?” Gerry gestures around them. “I’m fifteen. I’m not a little kid anymore.”
“You’re still a child,” his mother says. “For a night or two, perhaps, but you are far from old enough to spend potential weeks on your own.”
“You’ve taught me how to defend myself,” Gerry protests. Against magical threats more than mundane ones, but still, that should be good enough, right? “Besides, I wouldn’t even be on my own all that much. I’ve got plans.”
A look of disgust crosses his mother’s face. “Plans.”
Gerry stands his ground, with difficulty. “With Melanie and Martin. They’re on vacation, Mum. I just want to spend time with them. I never get to do that, and when we’re home during the school terms, they’re busy except on weekends. This is the one chance we get to have together. Besides, if they get time off from learning, why don’t I?”
The look on his mother’s face is a terrible thing. Gerry suddenly knows she’s about to skin him and bind him into her Book, where he’ll forever be her servant. He tenses, ready to spring the instant she goes for him. He’s not as nimble as Melanie or quick as Martin, but he might be able to dodge her and make it to the shop. Maybe if he trips over his still-untied boot laces, he’ll gain enough momentum from tumbling down the steps to give him a decent head start, and surely she won’t kill him if he makes it outside and into public.
And then, suddenly and inexplicably, her anger clears away. “You want to spend time with Martin and Melanie? Well, why didn’t you say so?” She gets to her feet. “Come along.”
Gerry blinks, taken completely off-guard. “What?”
“Don’t waste time, Gerard. Come with me.” His mother pushes in her chair and closes the book she was studying—which is, in fact, the Book. Before he can think up an escape plan, she grabs his arm and drags him out of the flat.
His mother’s car is a Vauxhall Viva that’s at least ten years older than Gerry and about as stubborn. Because she drives it so rarely, she hasn’t bothered to fix a lot of minor things that aren’t technically affecting its ability to run but definitely make it less than optimal, like the fact that the passenger side door has a broken lock that won’t disengage no matter what they do or the fact that turning the dial on the radio past a very narrow set of stations causes the indicator lights to turn on and refuse to stop until the dial is fixed and the car is restarted. (Gerry doesn’t even know how that’s possible, but he’s not a mechanic or an electrician and has simply concluded that the car is probably possessed.) His mother’s solution is to open the driver’s side and physically shove Gerry into it. She barely gives him time to get over the center console, let alone properly oriented into his seat, before she starts the car and pulls away from the shop. Her driving is less terrifying than the people and things she usually interacts with, but not by much.
Gerry briefly contemplates rolling down his window and screaming for help, or possibly bailing out the window, but the crank is rattling around in the backseat somewhere.
After not nearly as long as the journey reasonably should take and several near misses—including one with one of the red double-decker buses that Gerry is prepared to swear takes at least a decade off his lifespan—they pull up in front of the Blackwood-King residence. His mother pulls the car in behind Uncle Roger’s still old but much better maintained sedan, switches off the engine, and gets out. “Come,” she orders Gerry again, and he scrambles to comply. His boot laces briefly tangle in the gear shaft, and he momentarily debates leaving the boots behind, but manages to free himself and scramble after her as she marches up to the door and knocks.
Uncle Roger opens the door, looking very surprised. He’s clearly getting ready for work, but he’s completely polite. “Good morning, Mary, Gerard. Is everything all right?”
“Do you have a few minutes, Roger?” Gerry’s mother says, in the same tone of voice she usually speaks to Uncle Roger in—a coldly, painfully polite voice with a brittle edge to it that indicates he is testing the limits of her patience. “I have a proposition for you and Liliana.”
Surprise and hope rise up and mingle in Gerry’s chest. She’s actually…considering his request. Even come over to talk to Uncle Roger and Aunt Lily about the idea. It must be his lucky day.
“Of course, of course, come on in.” Uncle Roger steps back to allow them in, then addresses Gerry. “I think Melanie and Martin are awake if you’d like to head upstairs. Melanie definitely is, anyway, and I can’t imagine her letting Martin sleep in, even if it is the holidays.”
“Thanks, Uncle Roger.” Gerry offers him a warm smile, steps out of his boots and tucks them by the door, and takes the stairs two at a time before his mother can stop him or call him back.
Technically, the master suite is up here, but Lily can’t manage the stairs, so she and Roger have the smaller room on the ground floor. Gerry remembers the fight Melanie and Martin had over which of them would take the master suite—both of them wanted the other to have it—but eventually Martin prevailed with the very compelling argument that Melanie sleeps more heavily than he does, so if she has the master suite he can slip past her to use the bathroom or take a shower without waking her, while she’s less likely to do the same. Her door is ajar, and Gerry can hear voices coming from behind it, so he taps on the door and then pushes it open further, enough to poke his head in. “Can I come in?”
“Gerry! Get in here.” Melanie waves him in impatiently but doesn’t get up. “And shut the door, would you?”
Gerry complies. Martin and Melanie are both dressed for the day—Melanie in dark denim dungaree shorts over a bright yellow t-shirt, Martin in a simple blue and white striped shirt and khaki cargo shorts—and sitting on Melanie’s bed, Melanie’s legs dangling over the edge and Martin cross-legged behind her as he brushes out her glossy dark brown hair. It’s the first time Gerry’s seen it loose in a while and he hasn’t realized it’s been getting so long.
“Morning,” Martin says, peering over Melanie’s head with a cheery but slightly confused smile. “I thought we were meeting in the usual spot.”
“We were, but Mum brought me over instead.” Gerry comes closer. “Can I join you?”
“Yeah, of course.” Melanie pats the bed next to her. “How’d you convince your mum to give you a ride?”
“I didn’t know the alleged car was even running,” Martin murmurs. “Neens, you want a braid or a bun?”
“Braid. Donna told me the way you did it last week was really pretty.”
Martin nods and begins separating Melanie’s hair into three equal bunches. Gerry picks up Melanie’s brush and begins getting the knots out of his own hair. “It’s running. Just not well. And I didn’t…exactly ask her for a ride. She’s planning to go out of town.”
Martin freezes for just a moment. Melanie’s shoulders slump. “Oh. You’re going away again?”
“Well, that’s the thing.” Gerry recounts the conversation he and his mother had before leaving the shop. “I was really just sort of hoping she’d say I was fine as long as I checked in with Aunt Lily or something, but she told Uncle Roger she had a ‘proposition’ for him, so I’m wondering if maybe she’s going to ask if I can stay with you all while she’s gone.”
Martin brightens. “That’d be wicked awesome!”
“It’d save loads of time with hanging out,” Melanie agrees. “And if your mum’s gone for a while…”
“I won’t miss Martin’s birthday,” Gerry completes. “Maybe I can even enroll at your school.”
“You wouldn’t be in our classes, though.”
“No, but I could get a proper education, you know? At least some legitimate learning. Maybe even take—what do you call them? My O levels?”
“They don’t call them that anymore. It’d be your GSCE exams.” Martin taps Melanie’s shoulder. “Hand me a hair tie, would you?”
Melanie complies, handing over one of the twisty, loopy ties with the bright plastic balls on either end that she still favors even though they’re all stretching out of shape. “I don’t know if they’d let you do that, but it would be pretty neat to have you at our school, I won’t lie.”
“It all depends on if Aunt Lily says yes, I guess,” Gerry says. He knows Uncle Roger will agree in a heartbeat, so in the end it really does hinge on Aunt Lily. He wonders if he should have stayed downstairs after all to plead his case—like the fact that he’s happy to “watch” Melanie and Martin so Aunt Lily won’t be bothered, or that he doesn’t eat much really. Which isn’t exactly true, but it’s closer to true than not, so it counts, right?
Martin smooths a hand down Melanie’s braid. “There, is that good?”
Melanie touches her hair, then jumps up to run into the bathroom and look in the mirror. Gerry nudges Martin. “Hey, would you do my hair like that too?”
Martin’s cheeks turn faintly pink. “You don’t have to tease me.”
“No, I’m serious. That is really nice. And it’s hot out there.”
“Maybe if you didn’t wear twice your body weight in black leather all the time…” Martin takes the brush from Gerry’s hand. “Turn around, then.”
Melanie comes back, beaming, and beams even wider when she sees what Martin is doing. “Hold on, I’ll get you a hair tie.”
“Oh, yeah, I didn’t think about that.” Gerry just hopes Melanie doesn’t come back with a pink one. “So once Mum gives in and lets me stay, what are we doing today?”
Melanie, of course, has a list of things she wants to do, and it takes Gerry a few minutes to convince her they don’t have to do all of them today. He’s just about to suggest a first stop when there’s a knock on the door.
“Come in!” Melanie calls.
Uncle Roger opens the door and smiles to see them. “Melanie, you look lovely as always, sweetheart.”
Melanie smiles up at Martin. “Martin did my hair for me.”
“And mine,” Gerry adds.
Uncle Roger laughs, not in a mean way. “I can see that. Well, when you’re finished braiding Gerard’s hair, Martin, you can get your things together.”
Martin freezes. “Wh-what?” he stammers.
“Dad?” Melanie gets to her feet, her whole body tense. Gerry suspects she’s about to start a fight and just barely keeping herself controlled. “What do you mean, Martin can get his things together?”
Uncle Roger blinks and turns to Gerry. “You didn’t tell them?”
“We were a little busy,” Gerry hedges, because he’s not sure what he’s supposed to be telling them.
“Huh.” Uncle Roger turns back to Melanie and Martin. “Well. Exciting news! Your Aunt Mary is getting ready to go on one of her buying trips, and since it’s your summer holidays, she and Gerard thought you might like to go along and help. It’s a good opportunity to start learning more about the business, and you’ll get to travel. Won’t that be fun?”
Melanie does not visibly relax at this. In fact, she turns towards Gerry and Martin, and her expression is mingled anger and panic. Gerry is, admittedly, not sure how to respond either. There’s a sense of things spiraling out of control, to say nothing of the fact that he definitely did not want Melanie and Martin any more involved in this than they already are. His mother is going to exploit Martin’s talent for picking Leitners, and heaven help them if she realizes he can see the marks of the Fourteen on people too.
Martin, however, smooths his hand down Gerry’s braid in the same gesture he did for Melanie and speaks in a bright, excited tone. “Oh, that does sound like fun, Dad! Thanks for letting us go. How long should we pack for?”
“Just a week,” Uncle Roger says, and Gerry breathes a silent sigh of relief until he adds, “I’m sure there will be places to wash your clothes if you’re gone longer than that. And I’ll make sure you each have a bit of money to buy things if you need them.”
“Thanks, Dad,” Melanie echoes. She doesn’t sound quite as excited as Martin does, but she darts over and hugs her father anyway. “Can you tell Aunt Mary we’ll be down in just a few minutes?”
“Of course, little moth.” Uncle Roger bends down and kisses the top of Melanie’s head, then extracts himself and heads out of the room.
The second the door closes behind him, Martin sighs heavily. This time, his voice is more resigned than excited. “So where are we going?”
“Brussels, to start with.” Gerry echoes his mother’s words. He twists around to see Martin, so pale his freckles stand out like lint on black velvet, wringing his hands hard. Gerry reaches over and gently takes them to keep him from digging his fingernails into his wrists. “You’re not really excited?”
Martin shakes his head. “I like the idea of spending time with you two, but not your mum. And…what is she going to want us to do?”
“I dunno.” Gerry looks over at Melanie. “You know that isn’t what I wanted, right?”
“Yeah, I know.” Melanie crosses back to the bed and hugs Martin tightly. “How come you sounded so happy before, then?”
“What good would it have done to tell Dad that actually, we want to stay here in London? At best he’d tell Aunt Mary and Gerry would have to go off without us, which none of us want, and at worse Mum would drag herself up here and scream at us for being lazy, ungrateful brats and then we’d get in trouble for making her overexert herself on top of that and we’d probably still end up having to go.” Martin shrugs. “And he wouldn’t understand why we’re scared anyway. At least if he tells Mum and Aunt Mary we’re looking forward to it, they’ll either think we don’t know what’s really going on or that we’re brave enough to face it, so Aunt Mary will think twice about trying to feed us to something.”
Martin’s only twelve. Gerry hates that he already knows how to maneuver the adults in their lives to keep them safe. “I guess you’re right. I still don’t have to like it.”
“That’s fair. I don’t like it either.” Martin slides to the edge of the bed. “Let me go put a bag together. We’re taking the train, right?”
“Yeah, out of Waterloo, I think.”
Martin nods. “Meet you at the top of the stairs in five minutes?”
“Sure thing.” Melanie is already going for her bag.
It’s probably closer to ten minutes before they’re downstairs in the living room, Melanie and Martin with bags over their shoulders and smiles on their faces, Gerry with his hair neatly braided back and his hands in his pockets; his mother gives him the hairy eyeball, but says nothing. Aunt Lily lectures them about behaving and listening to their aunt; Uncle Roger hugs them both and gives them a couple of folded bills, and then they’re out and attempting to maneuver their way into the backseat of the Vauxhall.
“Gerard and I have to gather our things,” his mother tells Melanie and Martin as they pull away from the house. “Then we’ll be on our way. Martin, I’m sending you to the shop to pick up a bottle of aspirin while we do that.”
“Yes, Aunt Mary,” Martin says obediently.
“We’ll go over what I expect of you once we’re on the train. Mind you’re back quickly. This has already set us back.”
“Yes, Aunt Mary.”
“Good.” Gerry’s mother goes back to driving. Gerry doesn’t dare twist around to look at his brother and sister, but unease and nerves churn in his stomach and make him want to roll down the window, lean out of it, and throw up.
What awful things do they have in store for them on this trip?
#ollie writes fanfic#tma fanfic#to find promise of peace (and the solace of rest)#gerard keay#martin blackwood#melanie king#mary keay#parental abuse#esp. emotional abuse#threats#manipulation#terrible driving (incl. mention of a near-car accident)
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Atlantis, The Lost Script
Let us plunge back through the salinated waters of time to 2001, when I, an innocent child of... okay, that’s six, ten, twen-
When I was younger than now.
Animation is my first, greatest joy, and I saw ads for Atlantis, The Lost Empire, but didn’t manage to catch a showing. It has always lingered in my brain as something I should fix. A friend gave me a pile of movies recently, and Atlantis was one of them, so I watched it today.
Disney. Disney, why. You are now responsible for the two biggest failures in turning a script into a movie, ever. The first is The Black Hole, obviously, great script. Pathetic movie. Run this through your brain: The Black Hole was contemporary with Alien. It had DISNEY money behind it.
Similarly, Atlantis is a floop-dooplin’ Disney feature animated film. DISNEY.
Sorry, let me try to start in a coherent way.
Very early in watching Atlantis, I went “Hey, that’s not delivered well, but it’s a witty line.” Then I saw a cute twist on an old trope. Then some more witty lines. And I realized that the script for this movie is fantastic. It’s funny. It’s hilariously, ‘you will die laughing’ funny. It is touching. It is cool. It has clever writing tricks.
“You don’t want to know. Trust me. Audrey, don’t tell him. You shouldn’t have told me. But you did. And now I’m telling you. You don’t want to know.” “Gunpowder, nitro-glycerine, notepads, fuses, wicks, glue, and paperclips. Big ones. You know, office supplies.”
The movie is packed with good lines, and good lines properly placed with other good lines. But it comes out as... porridge.
So I thought a lot about why. I’ve noticed a few things. First, the animation is lush, but it has no timing. Like, not bad timing. No timing. Everything happens at the same smooth, even pace. It turns the most clever quip and exciting event into... porridge. There’s a scene where a hall is flooding and sailors are escaping and the hatch closes with one still inside. I had to rewind my brain to even figure out something tragic happened, because there’s no emphasis to any moment, and the movie keeps on rolling into the next scene.
Voice acting direction has some of the same problem. No matter how good the actor or how interesting their voice, how much emphasis they try to put in, the dialog rattles off at an even pace. That makes, say, a sinister bad guy speech lugubrious at worst, and mostly just dull.
And the final thing I noticed is that the sound level balance is... just bad. A lot of the cleverest lines are delivered at very low volume for no obvious reason. The volume differences between various speakers and action are huge, so a fair amount of dialog is hard to hear unless you turn the volume up enough to make the louder elements unpleasant. There’s no pattern to the volume use. A potentially important cinematic technique is reduced to ‘In there somewhere.’
And look, I could have loved this movie. I realized that very early, when it hit me with a hilarious trope reversal. The geeky hero returns to his apartment at night. The femme fatale is there. She does suggestive, sensual femme fatale things, like baring her shoulders and crossing her legs. Geeky hero doesn’t even notice and just wants to know why this woman broke into his apartment. It’s clever! It falls flat in delivery.
And that’s the whole movie.
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criminal [ jay halstead ]
SUMMARY ─ jay learns something interesting about his partner after learning to use the new look up system -- @halsteadswhore22
PROMPT ─ [ wanted poster ] your lover accidentally stumbles across your arrest record; they are surprised because you are the sweetest person they know
WARNINGS ─ gn!reader, slight angst [ mentions of criminal record ] + general fluff [ some humor + hugs ]
“...and then you search by driver’s license or name. should bring up anyone in the system that’s had a prior charge or arrest. if something appears wonky, just let us know. we’re still working out a few bugs.” the tech states, scribbling off on their clipboard that jay had been shown the new system, and everything seemed to work great for him.
“one final thing, do a couple searches for me that way i can see you know how to use the system.” they prompt, and jay types a couple names into the search bar. will halstead: no record. kelly severide: no record. your first and last name: one record.
that search had surprised him completely, and without being prompted to, he clicks on the record listed under your name. sure enough, your drivers license picture pops up, along with your single arrest record from almost ten years ago. drunk and disorderly conduct. that had amused him, and he made a mental note to talk to you about it later tonight once he was finished with his day.
the second he arrived home, he found you seated comfortably on the couch, the tv playing in the background as he hung up his jacket and kicked off his shoes, “hey! how was your day?” you question, standing from the couch to greet him with open arms.
“pretty good... learned something interesting today.” he smiles, pulling back to look you in the eye as he raised a brow at you, “when were you going to tell me you got arrested?”
the question immediately causes your smile to drop, eyes going wide like saucers, and heat rushing to your cheeks, “uh... how did you find that out?” you question, raking through your brain to try and figure out how your record would have come up -- were you somehow apart of an investigation?
“we got a new system at work. the tech had me look up names to see if i could use the system correctly. i put your name in, thinking that there wouldn’t be anything. but drunk and disorderly conduct? i never would have guessed that!” jay smiles with a teasing tone, watching as you groan and sink onto the couch.
“it was while i was in college. we went out after a big exam, and i got a little too wasted. ended up really drunk and spent the night in jail with a few of my friends. i didn’t even remember it until you brought it up.” jay chuckles deeply, tears nearly springing from his eyes as you frown, “it’s not funny!”
“it is! you are like... the most innocence and sweetest person i know! and the fact you got arrested for public intoxication -- icing on the cake baby!” jay dissolves into another fit of laughter before finally catching your eye and coming to take the seat next to you.
“it’s alright, you being a criminal doesn’t change how i feel about you.” he teases lightly, leaning over to press faces across your face as you try to maneuverer yourself away from him. the action, only causes him to laughter harder, press he kisses your lips softly and pulls you against his chest, “you’re not gonna let me forget about this, are you?”
“nope.” jay chuckles again, before settling into the couch with you leaning against him.
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it’s been twenty-seven years since you left us.
around the time of year that the sun has deserted us seemingly permanently, the dark creeping in instead — around the time of year my entire body freezes up in preparation, feeling your absence like a fist wrapped around my oesophagus. a mist clouds my thoughts and clogs up my veins, and it’s like every day we creep closer to a grief we’ve never been able to properly let rest. somehow, my body always knows way before my brain can play catch-up.
it’s not just you that my body prepares itself for like a soldier going to battle — it’s all of december that’s built of trauma after trauma, a new one added to the mix year after year, to the point that my shoulders felt so heavy even my feet couldn’t hold them up anymore. until this year, finally the dam broke, and I decided something had to give.
all of these images push themselves to the forefront of my mind when I let them.
the first ones, and the core ones at that, unfolded in 1995, the year you crashed to the bathroom floor, and I asked hopefully when you were coming back. the indescribable devastation that followed when I found out you would never hold me again. that same year, not even three weeks later, when my mother critically ended up in the hospital, missing all the moments that are supposed to bring a festive light in the sullen darkness: Christmas, my birthday, New Years. and there four-year-old me was, not only left without you, but also without the one sense of safety I still had left, desperately clutching a piece of fabric she had given me that was supposed to tide me over until everything was back to normal. and normal came briefly, when I met my little sister, but it’s vaguer than the rest of it. did I hold her tiny, rosy hand? my memory tells me yes, but she was so small and fragile, surely I wasn’t allowed to — I might as well have conjured it up myself to make the transition easier. and then, four days later, when she, too, left us. shamefully, I have to admit that the pain I had felt for you wasn’t there this time around, but naturally I did see it in the downturned slump of my parents’ eyes. to this day, I still don’t feel that grief, and I wonder what’s wrong with me because of it. I also wonder what you would’ve thought, meeting her. would it have been as hard as it was when meeting me, or my older cousin? was it for the best you were spared from that grief one last time?
other images wrangle their way forward, flashbacks of events that happened later on: 1997, or was it 1998? fitting that I can’t remember, as it felt like I had no solid ground beneath my feet, like I didn’t even exist on this planet, so scared of life itself that I screamed into the loud, bustling wind by the beach with such a deeply guttural noise I made my mother cry as my plea for help echoed through the dunes. the times when my medication made me so paranoid I genuinely thought my own mother was trying to poison me, even though she was the only one able to calm me down. seeing my best friend play a game in my living room and knowing with a certainty I wasn’t real to begin with, so surely he wasn’t either. when I was in the hospital myself, hooked up to a machine as they were trying to figure out exactly how bad off I would be for the rest of my life, and then having to carry a mini-version of it around for twenty-four torturous hours, year after year, as I knew the rhythm of my heartbeat was written onto paper with every move I made.
2001, crying and screaming in my bed, begging to not have to go, not without my mother. and even then, I didn’t know what I know now — she wasn’t forced by health reasons to not go, she chose not to, a double betrayal burning my trust so deeply I can’t even begin to describe it. I was forced out of bed by his arms and put on a plane to the other side of the world, and the week that followed was the unsafest of my entire life. the memories are blurry — a sharp, nauseating smell, dust in all my crevices, a dark, cold house, and a language I did not speak. the laughter of a six year old child was my only relief in the panic. other than that, I don’t remember much. it’s probably for the best, as when I came home I spent my entire birthday hunched over a toilet bowl, emptying myself from the entire experience. (you would’ve been furious.)
2006, years later, when the bubble burst, and there was no love in that house hold. no love at the big family holiday get-togethers, either. instead, a beautiful charade to keep up pretenses, followed by a stifling pressure closing down my throat in a cold, chilly car, driving towards nowhere in particular, and not fully grasping why all I wanted was to jump out of the backseat, pack the fully prepared runaway bag I had mentally packed a million times and set off to the other side of the country, to flee to a friend I knew was sure to not tell anyone about my whereabouts. (I wish you could’ve been that friend, but I had to make do with what I had.)
2013, when I had to perform all sorts of gymnastics to “celebrate” my birthday, as the entrance of a new man was enough cause to be told I didn’t have a father anymore. “have a wonderful life from now on, but I won’t be in it”. that day was the point of no return.
you would’ve understood. put him in his place, even, as you were the only person he respected enough to listen to, but I never got the time I needed with you to grow up and grow into the language necessary to discuss it properly. but the happy moments are missing, too: you would’ve cheered, and held me tight as you would’ve been the first to hear I was bisexual. you’d have dragged your queer friends over to your house to sit and talk with me, ensure I felt safe and knew what was happening to me. you’d have understood all my demons and you were the one who, even when I was a tiny four-year-old, protected me from his iron rule and approached it with humour and rebellion, the way I still do now.
so it’s selfish to have wanted to keep you here any longer than you were. I know it is. you had a harder life than anyone of us could ever have imagined and it plagued you even when it didn’t. but still, it’s the anniversary of when you died. when my biggest protector, biggest adventure buddy, my partner in crime and the shield against everything I needed protecting from left me to fend for myself.
you needed to go, and that’s alright — you’re at peace now. and, you’d be delighted to see: with the lack of your presence, I have become my own protector these days. I do it fervently, the way you taught us to, and I am proud to say I’m built out of all the best parts of you.
once, years ago, my therapist said she had never met anyone my age before who had been through so much and yet approaches it with such a strong sense of humour, even in the darkest times. it made me smile, because if I know one thing for certain, it’s that I get that from you. the diary entries from the darkest time of your life are heart wrenching, raw in their vulnerability, and somehow still so, so incredibly funny. I thumb through the frantically-scribbled-on pages and feel strengthened by your blood coursing through my veins, knowing that if I am made up of even 1% of your DNA, I’ll be alright.
I thank whatever higher power is out there that I am.
the holidays are supposed to be bright, but understandably, the years have darkened them considerably even if I try my hardest despite it all every single year. my moody, self-indulgent december playlist is currently playing in the background, but there is no song in there for you, as you passed before I started assigning memories to music. I hate that there’s not a single song I can put on that makes me feel closer to you, apart from dutch schlagers that remind me of the neighbourhood you lived in when you were young.
except then I look in the mirror, see the mischievous sparkle in my eyes I’ve been told is always present no matter how I feel, and I know with an absolute certainty —
— that sparkle is you, and you’re here in every song I listen to.
every book I read.
every word I write.
all I can do is hope that you like them.
#spilled ink#um.#be careful before you read this it gets very heavily into. grief and mental illness and everything#yeah idk it’s the first year I’m conscious of the date before it happens#so I wanted to do something with it before it overwhelmed me#this is a lot of personal information WHY am I even putting this on the internet#tw: grief#tw: trauma#tw: seasonal depression#there???????#ah well I cry in the tags daily even if it’s vague. might as well#putting it onto someone feels like too much but this way whoever wants to read it can choose to 🤷🏽♀️
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Oh my god that's delightful to know! RBC being the drive force for everyone in the last arc! I love her so much. I just know they got together after this (it's canon trust me)
but with 1146 she's experiencing it all over again, but this time, she's the one who will hold his hand and catch him if he falls. It probably makes her feel wanted in the best way possible
OOoh that's a *really* good point!!! And since it was probably before she started officially working, she must have been with another red blood cell under training, so most likely someone who has known her since she was little and therefore has a certain idea of her. I know this isn't a popular thing but I feel like she would enjoy having someone who *hasn't* known her since she was young but rather someone who judges her based on what she is now. It's very possible someone would easily consider her the "clumsy classmate" (even in an affectionate light) and I feel like she would appreciate being seen as *more* than that!
considering that there are trillions of cells, how are they going to meet again???
SOULMATES I TELL YOU. Try to convince me they don't get reincarnated together YOU CAN'T
Speaking of the WBC squad, you are right they would totally support seeing their leader happy. THEY ARE THE BEST HYPE BUDDIES AND WINGMEN (embarassingly) OKAY . I think they would support their bro at first after finding out he has a crush on ae-3803 despite not knowing anything about her. They just want their buddy to be happy. But when they get to know more about her (outside from the instances of seeing her screaming and running away for her dear life in the battle field bc that is NOT a great impression.) , they approve of them EVEN HARDER and they are very glad they won't have to make ridiculously bizarre plans to get 1146 to confess to her
Also you mentioned 2001 in the previous ask and I forgot to talk about it but OH GOD he is so hot 🫦 I genuinely love his design (there is just something about bald/buzz cut characters that scratches something in my brain). Also this is more of a personal hc but I feel like he'd use sign language a lot!
And Thank you so much too!! I had lots of fun rambling about CAW with you! Hope you have a great night/day as well <333
Oh my gosh, I would love some more 3803 lore, she would definitely be the type to have puppy crushes and date a few cells here and there. And you have a point! I bet she would like to date someone who hasn't known her since she was a young erythroblast so when 1146 ends up in her life, she's eager to show him that she's more than just the poor, confused little cell in the bone marrow!
1146 more than lives up to her expectations when it's clear that he respects her, not only because she serves a vital role in the body, but also because of her fortitude.
Hehehehe, soulmate au when??? (just kidding, someone else made a wonderful au years ago and it's on ao3!)
WBC squad are simultaneously the best bros and the worst wingmen ever. (If 3803 hasn't made it clear already that she plans on pursuing 1146, they definitely let it slip that 1146 likes her!)
YOU'RE THE FIRST PERSON EVER--I REALLY DO MEAN EVER--TO SHARE MY EXACT SAME THOUGHTS WITH HIM
MAH POOR BOI WHO DOESN'T GET ANY ATTENTION!
He doesn't get much characterization (if any), but I believe that he's the old man in the group (besides 1146) who looks straitlaced and aloof, but he's so mischievous and cunning when he wants to be. Oooooohhhh, and sign language? That's an amazing headcanon! He does look like to be a man of very few words, often preferring action, so I can see him using his hands and facial expressions to get his point across!
(He signs everything with a deadpan expression, hahaha)
Thanks for the headcanons and I hope that you have a wonderful day! :
#robosuta#robosuta ask#answered#caw#cells at work#hataraku saibou#ae-3803#3803#ae3803#u1146#u-1146#1146#u-2001#u2001#2001#devintrinidad#devin trinidad#dearestones
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Re: the topic of how nostalgic this year has made me…2 different people in the past 2 days have reminded me of how I used to be a math tutor. (Idk how, but I had totally forgotten that was one of the many things absorbing my time back in the era of the Start of Family Crises Years. I’ll blame lack of sleep and said crises.) I mean, sure, I tutored friends and stuff all along the way, but what I mean I had forgotten specifically is how in HS my junior and seniors years, like any good nerd, I went through a process to become an officially school approved tutor for everything that came before calculus. They sent me kids who were struggling whose parents asked for help and I got to charge $20/hour. In 2001 that was EYE POPPINGLY high and I had a sweet hustle of prob like 3-6 students at a time I met with a couple times a month. And that rate of pay was almost four times my minimum wage food job.
God I hated math though 😂 I could do it well and I really enjoyed tutoring others and finding ways to help someone’s specific needs to “get” a concept. Looking back, that was a preview of so much of the work I’d do in youth development for years after. My childhood friend and I were catching up the other day and she told me I was better at explaining 8th grade math than her teacher 😭 I was so flattered. Unfortunately my dad pressured and pushed me so much about math and made it so anxiety producing that I forget that I was naturally probably quite talented at it back then (my brain has changed m a s s i v e l y in this regard in the passing 20 years.)
Makes me wonder how I would have been if my dad didn’t do that shit.
Then, unrelatedly, today Ronald randomly reminded me I used to tutor an extremely annoying boy who he based a character on in his latest script 😂 It was so weird to have these 2 memories come up back to back, w/o having mentioned it to Ronald or anything. The brain and memory is so mysterious. Some stuff from that period of time I can remember in such detail it’s like I’m tasting and smelling the early aughts and other massive things aka my math side gig were completely out of my mind last week. Wouldn’t have passed a test on it about myself.
#mine#my dad pressured me into taking calculus BC and the AP exam and I think I still have ulcers I’m getting over from that era
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Hello sunshine!! Please take as much time as you need with this, thank you for such a wonderful event.
My pronouns are they/them. Fandoms are haikyuu, tears of themis and txt. I would prefer a romantic matchup and my MBTI is ENFP. I am a Sagittarius (sun,mercury &venus) Leo Moon and Aquarius (Rising & Mars). What I value most in a relationship is emotional support, teamwork and communication. I always liked people with gentle eyes or eyes that are the most noticeable part of someone. Anyone with an aura that comes off shy and introverted but still sure of themselves is very attractive to me. Personality would be someone who’s kindness + sincerity + integrity shines through even if they are a bit apprehensive towards people or situations. Big heart energy, if I must say.
My personality is I am a good balance of emotions and logic. I love making people laugh and loosen up and I’m always ready to lend an ear. Sincerity is my favourite attribute in someone so it’s what I try to be everyday. The therapist friend and mom of the group most times. Troubles can weigh on me for days but I always remain optimistic despite. I am an ambivert with more introverted hobbies like writing, watching new shows and finding new music, reading poetry & non fiction, taking long walks and learning new languages.
Currently I am in a degree studying Cognitive Science with a minor in Computer Science. Random things that are very dear to me are my dogs, early mornings, my dark blue windbreaker, fruits and the 2001 movie, Artificial Intelligence. The quote I always live by is, “Follow your heart but take your brain with you.”
For the scenario, I would like a scenario about 3am late night talking, giggling under the covers about stupid jokes and talking about the most random topics. Thank you so much for doing this, take care of yourself. ❤️
1000 Follower Matchup Event #13
My event is now CLOSED but I will be doing more events like these in the future. You can check out the masterlist to this event here.
Note: 100000 years late, but it's finally here. Hope you enjoy. Also side note to anyone looking through my masterlist, I need to fix all the links on my account so they don't go straight to google (on mobile) and some just don't work so I'll need to work on that soon. In the meantime if you can't find your matchup that I've already posted you can try searching for it like Matchup #1 or something. idk. or send me an ask and I'll try and find it for you
I match you with SUGAWARA, SOOBIN, and LUKE
Runner-ups were Asahi, Taehyun, and Vyn
Sugawara:
I instantly thought Suga was a great match for you because you said you like someone with gentle eyes and I just LOVE Sugawara’s eyes. They look so comforting, like you can just open up to him about your deepest darkest secrets and he’d listen unconditionally.
Study dates are in your future with Suga, I’m not sure if he’s incredibly smart, but I’m pretty sure he isn’t failing like our beloved Tanaka or Kageyama lol. So you’d both have tons of study dates, though he does get distracted MANY times by your beauty and just stares at you with loving eyes until you catch him and make him focus on his work again. Cute~ He appreciates how intelligent you are, but also how laid back you can be. You’re the only person who’s ever really there for him so the fact that you can also listen to his worries and make him feel better on his bad days is so so special to him. He’d go out of his way to show you little signs of his thanks–nothing crazy, just things like bringing you flowers, buying you breakfast in the morning before your classes, little things to show he was thinking of you!
3am’s with Sugawara:
For some reason, I headcanon that this man can’t stay up late for the life of him
So 3am’s with Suga are delirious; he’s just rambling on about something and isn’t fully making sense, so you’re just laughing at him and he gets pouty because his half-awake self thinks you’re making fun of him
You had proposed the idea of a sleepover to him, and he was really trying his best to stay awake
Cue him jolting up and running to the bathroom to throw cold water over his face every few minutes
You do try and tell him that it’s okay for him to just fall asleep, but he refuses, he NEEDS to stay awake
Mission failed though because he does end up falling asleep as you just admire his sleeping face, deciding to end your attempt at an all nighter and just sleep with him as well
He does wake up early though and uses the time to admire you as you sleep
Soobin:
Okay so I had originally had Taehyun as my first choice, but after months of letting this matchup sit, I thought Soobin would be a better choice. Now excuse me if any of this is wrong, it’s been a long time since I delved into anything-txt-related, but I do still keep up with their music. I just haven’t had time to watch their other stuff SIGH. But again the eyes part made me choose him. Soobin has the cutest, most gentlest eyes in the whole world. Literally if he ever looks at me and asks me for anything, I’d have to give it to him, how can you say no? And let me just say, he definitely uses that to his advantage.
With the boys he’s a cheeky menace, but with you, he’s just so incredibly sweet (but still has his playful moments whenever he isn’t being shy). I’d like to think he’d be a gentleman with his s/o and treat them with so much love and care. He loves how intelligent you are and likes to watch you study instead of doing any studying himself lol. Really soft with you.
3a.m’s with Soobin:
I think he’s used to staying up late so being up at this time is no issue for him
He’ll think of something fun for the two of you to do together, whether it be playing games, or making a late night meal if you’re craving it
I picture cute convenience store runs as you both giggle in the dark of the night, as if only the two of you exist in the world–not a worry in sight
Soobin is more of a listener, so when you return to the comfort of your bed, he looks in awe at everything you tell him, listening to every little detail and jumping in to respond whenever it feels right to do so
It’s like staying up late with your best friend
You both make a bet on who can stay up the longest, whoever falls asleep first has to buy the other food the next day–something cute like that
Overall, it’s a fun night
Luke:
Your very own golden retriever, protective boyfriend. Shy, yet confident Luke, he’s perfect for you. He’d love your dogs, since I’m pretty sure he’s a dog person–love that. He’s a detective (and very in-shape) so he loves going on morning walks with you and your dogs. Early mornings are his favorite time of day to spend with you, seeing your face each morning is like the equivalent of drinking coffee for other people.
He’s typically busy with work, but whenever he’s free, he loves watching movies with you and just staying home to spend lots of time with you doing all your favorite things. He’s fascinated that you love learning different languages so he probably asks you to teach him a new word each day just so he can be included in that part of your life. In return he’ll let you in on some detective secrets (nothing classified though, sorry).
Best partner you could have really.
3a.m’s with Luke:
I need to replay every chapter of tot i swear
But I think Luke is the type to stay up late doing detective work (research and thinking things through) so he’s used to staying up
On the rare free nights that he gets, he’d feel super relaxed finally not having any work to do so he might feel a little drowsy as he listens to you chat about your day and other little things that come to your mind
He listens to every word though, refusing to fall asleep and leave you speaking to yourself
Use this opportunity to get him to say cute things without a filter, he’s usually not as confident with his words of affection when he’s wide awake (even though he does really care for you, he’s not fully used to it yet)
Throws the covers over the two of you and cuddles into you
Doesn’t fall asleep until you do first, no matter how tired he is
Not that thrilling, but definitely still tons of fun
EVENT REQUESTS ARE CLOSED
REGULAR REQUESTS ARE OPEN
Posted: 5/25/2023
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Cowboy Bebop #23: “Brain Scratch” | April 3, 1999 | S01E23
Adult Swim premiere: November 12, 2001 - 12:30AM
Okay, so way back when Adult Swim started I immediately turned my back on Cowboy Bebop for being anime and especially for not being 4 more repeats of Space Ghost Coast to Coast. So I didn’t really on-purpose watch it at all. But the closest I got after turning the first episode off after five minutes was when I watched the last stretch of this episode, context-free. I saw an old man’s face on a bunch of TV screens smugly saying things like (insulting, slightly gayer mimic) “do you know why man believes in god? (long pause) because he wants to.” or “god didn't create humans... it is humans that created god!” while ominous music played. “You see TV has become the new religion” SHUT UP! SHUT UP SHUT UP SHUT UP YOU PRETENTIOUS FUCKING ANIME BULLSHIT.
It’d liken it to the time when I was under the influence of a COOL ADULT I knew who said All in the Family was lame and preachy and completely overrated. I sampled a single episode on TVLand and it was exactly those things, with an overly simplistic MONEY CAN’T BUY HAPPINESS message that was constantly punctuated with Rob Reiner furrowing his brow thoughtfully at Archie being too STUPID and CONSERVATIVE to understand it all. I drew this comic about it:
Later I downloaded all of All in the Family in MP3 form and listened to them instead of podcasts and you wanna know what? I fucking LOVED IT and thought the show was brilliant and hilarious, all because I didn’t have to look at Rob Reiner scowling. My point is my impression of anime was that it would be exactly as pretentious as this episode is. I happened to catch the one single scene from the show that would reinforce those ideas THE MOST.
Well, I appreciate this show more now. This episode is fine, I guess. I do still think it’s pretentious. I think there was an episode of Duckman that was more insightful than this that had the same message. TV controls people, they worship it like a religion. Sure. But it’s also cheap hedonistic fun, and what am I gonna do? NOT WATCH IT? Hell, I have TWO TVS going right now as I speak. One is a B&W dailies monitor I bought at a yard sale for 5 dollars. I had to buy an RCA adapter that was 6 dollars to hook up a VCR to it and now I play random tapes on it. I just think it’s cool looking. Sorry, I just realized I haven’t used my tumblr to brag about my B&W monitor yet. I could sell it on eBay for $50 bucks, easy, but I’m not gonna. What was I talking about
This one is about a guy who is selling a religion where you can allegedly upload your soul into a computer or something, and live digitally. 1000s have seemingly committed suicide for this process. BUT COULD IT BE REAL? And why is the head of this religion unreachable? He appears on TV to hawk his cult on a daily basis. It turns out he’s using the brainwaves of a comatose guy, basically using him like a battery and he’s just a max headroom on a screen. I think. Then he says pretentious stuff to Spike while they kill him.
Obvious reference I didn’t realize until this very moment: Heaven’s Gate. That guy. Remember that shit? I do, because I was just becoming an extremely online guy at the time and I remember that being maybe one of the most famous websites out there. I remember the official Monty Python website redesigned their site to parody it, and thinking it was so funny. I recall going to the actual site out of morbid curiosity and my mother freaked out and thought I was going to become a cult member, and I remember feeling like insanely insulted by that and getting into a big fight with her. I don’t even believe in Christian god, you idiot!!!
I like the first act, where they are flipping through TV channels and stuff. All this stuff is strong. But I still think this episode is a little lame and goofy, the same way I did when I stumbled on it in 2001 and s’d my damn h. At it. But, it didn’t piss me off, and that’s worth something.
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Character Name Meanings
i was tagged by the lovely @natesofrellis! ty💕
i love how everyone has like fancy real meanings behind the names of their ocs like word meaning and stuff and im here like heheh yeehaw heheheh girl is boy? heheheh name sound pretty, good enough
alright i so let’s start, this is gonna be long lmfao cuz i can’t resist but do all of them TwT
The name Veronique is girl's name of French, Greek origin meaning "true image". The name Ronnie is both a boy's name and a girl's name meaning "she who brings victory; true image".
I always loved gender neutral names and the idea of “opposite gendre” names for a lack of better terms. Like for example naming a boy Adelaide (Ada for short) or Eloise (El for short) or for a girl, Luca or Elliot. And seeing as any character I create, the world is literally my oyster, I can do whatever I want hahaha. This kind of ends up being a theme for a few of my ocs. They’ll probably have say a feminine name (being a girl) but their nickname will be more androgynous or gender neutral. Ronnie for example, short for Véronique. I went with Véronique because seeing how Ronnie was quite the self insert when I was making her, literally everything about her is inspired and based off me. Her looks, her ethnicity and race, personality. But I didn’t want to give her my name cuz well I don’t care much for my name lol. So I went with the next best thing, the name that I would’ve been given if I wasn’t named what I was, the second choice if you will: Véronique.
I also knew damn well that Véronique is a long name and I can’t possibly be saying her full name all the time lol. Plus it’s french, I have much too many years of experience with people have difficulty saying or reading my name properly and well I didn’t want that for her even if she is fictional lol. And personally I always wanted nicknames, my name’s three syllables yet I’ve never been given a nickname by anyone really, I’m always just the same 1 name always which bores me considering no one besides my parents and myself say it correctly ahaha. So I knew I wanted to give her a nickname, cuz if she’s basically me, I’d think she’d have the same views about her name. How many non french speakers can pronounce a french r and not be intimidated by an accent😅. Now taking the whole gender neutral thing into account, I didn’t want to go Véro, which is the typical nickname for her name cuz well it’s still difficult, so I experimented and found myself really liking the name Ronnie. Sure enough Ronnie worked for the her so I settled with it, and I still love it lol. (I also took inspiration of the name “Ronnie” from Ronnie Radke from Falling In Reverse lol I like their music)
Kana is inspired by me giving her a half asian background, I guess this last name makes her Japanese haha. Like I said I she’s very much me, half French, half Asian. Thinking about her last name, I always loved the Japanese culture, I’m an anime indulger, I love Japanese names. And at the time I was stuck between whether to name her first name Véronique (Ronnie) or Kana, and for a time her name would switch from Ronnie to Kana a lot. But I could never think of a last name. So it dawned on me that I can give her both the names I wanted to, my slow small brain just didn’t catch on very fast the Ronnie still needed a last name hahaha. Kana is also inspired by one of my favourite anime’s Fruit’s Basket (specifically the 2001 version, I am biased towards that version for nostalgic reasons🥲🤲💕), and my favourite character in the show Hatori. And Kana was the name of his wife and well me being a Hatori simp I was like “um I wanna be his wife??🤨🤨🤚🤚” lmfao
Combination of Anna and Belle or French form of Amabel. The name Annabelle is girl's name of French origin meaning "loving".
1000% stole the inspiration of her name from the pirate Anne Bonny because I’m obsessed with Uncharted (especially uncharted 4, for reasons…*looks at sam and rafe*…….reasons..) I was also visiting family in Calgary at the time of Stampede and well yeehaw cowtown lead to me rewatching Yellowstone for the spirit and I fucking love that show so much. Fell back in love with the wrangler Ryan from that show HAHAHA and decided fuck it I’m making another cowboy oc who will double as an RDR oc. But she goes by Annabelle Jones for RDR, nickname Elle. Idk why I just thought Elle was a cute and pretty name and also I had too many cowboy name ideas for Annie’s last name that I had left over. Deciding I’d change her last name to Jones and also change the nickname. My godmother and I were looking at cowgirl names after we went to stampede the first night to watch barrel racers being like “ok we gotta give ourself cowgirl names now” and so we thought about it. I settled on Lucky Annabelle Bonnie (as i said inspired by anne bonny but then it was also encouraged after I saw a “what’s your cowgirl name” generator thing that had both the names bonnie and annabelle on it and I was like well perfect, imma do that). And then proceeded to make an oc and though hey, in spirit of yeehaw, why don’t I go ahead and make my long awaited RDR and Yellowstone oc lol
The name Persephone is girl's name of Greek origin “Bringer of Death”
I always loved Persephone, her character, her story, her power and everything about her. And I also loved her name, I think it’s one of the prettiest names out there. When choosing Seph’s name I just kinda went into my mind’s collections of names that I love to pick out which name I could give her lol. Landed on Persephone because I always wanted a character named Persephone and then of course I had to give her a nickname. I love odd names, unique ones, ones you don’t really go for if you were to be picking nicknames yenno? Honestly now that I think about it I feel like Seph is probably the go to nickname for Persephone but I’d never heard it be used before so I thought it was cute, and not well known. But it was easy enough to pronounce, not long like if I were to have gone with Sephone which was one more syllable, have I mentioned I’m lazy? Seph just sounded cute and I hadn’t heard it before so I was like bingo that’s the one. Wilde comes from the idea of uncharted as a whole lol, they’re always out in the wild yenno? Adventuring, treasure hunting in unknown places. Jungles, forests, mountains, oceans. So I thought the name Wilde would be cute, and considering it is in fact a name, it worked out lol. I also wanted a name that sounded good with Sam Drake’s but that’s besides the point👀
The name Persimmon is girl's name meaning "a dry fruit".
Redraven I found on some dnd name generator that I thought fit her perfectly considering she’s a bright dark red ginger lol and sounded pretty with her first name. Persimmon I chose cuz I knew I didn’t want anything basic or boring lol I wanted a name that wasn’t usually found to be a name. A word that if not introduced as someone’s name, you’d think it’s not supposed to be a name. And well a persimmon is the colour orange, and she’s a ginger, so two and two together lol. And I love persimmons, they’re sweet and taste good so I was like lemme give this sweet name to a woman who has a secret sweet and soft side. And again the whole “androgynous/gender neutral name/giving a girl a boys name” ordeal with her nickname. I thought about going with Monnie, but it felt too feminine lol and I wanted something less so. Also Monnie sounds like Ronnie and I was like well I’m not creative am I AHAHAHA. So I went to the other half of the name and settled for Persi. I loved the way it sounded, I felt it fit her perfectly. And well it definitely fit the “you hear this name and think it’s a boy? HAH WRONG this character is actually a woman, who woulda thunk” motif.
that was a lot lol oops ^^ i tag anyone who wants to share the story of their oc!
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thomas ‘tommy’ shepherd // SPEED.
name. Thomas “Tommy” Shepherd
faceclaim. Diego Tinoco
affiliations. Young Avengers, Nomads
birthdate & age. June 9, 2001 // 20
species. Mutant
identity. Secret
traits.
LOYAL: Tommy’s not really used to having people who would go to bat for him, to be honest. Sure, there’s been a few years of being on a team, but that doesn’t override a lifetime of the opposite—which means that if Tommy thinks he can trust someone, then they’ve got a ride or die for life. He may act detached and, in his own goofy way, standoffish, but Tommy’s the kind of guy who would bury a body for someone that he isn’t even that close to. Snitches get stitches, you know? It’s the kind of prison loyalty you get used to after years spent in and out of juvie.
SELF-SUFFICIENT: If nothing else, Tommy is pretty independent! For better and for worse, a lifetime of having to take care of himself means that he is more than capable of providing for himself (and others, should the situation arise). As much as he jokes about how badly he wants to marry rich and never work a day again, Tommy is pretty streetwise and can get himself out of a bind… usually without causing too much trouble. Sure, that means his credit score is shot to hell because he took out a credit card to pay a lawyer after he got arrested once and didn’t have the funds to pay it back, but what does he look like he is, middle class? The point is, he’s fed and sheltered and he’s good at keeping himself in check in a bind. If he were to get separated from the rest of the gang in some kind of catastrophic event, he could take care of everyone. And himself.
UNDERSTANDING: Some of these hero types kinda… have a moral superiority complex. And Tommy finds that exhausting! He is Not The One. Sure, he has a unique perspective on the matter, but Tommy knows more than anyone that having done bad things doesn’t mean that you’re inherently bad, and he’s quick to give others the benefit of the doubt. While he may not be immediately trusting—he doesn’t believe people right away, and it takes him a long time to truly open up to folks—he is the kind of person who believes that intentions matter and that people aren’t defined by their pasts. Everybody’s got some baggage; what’s the point in getting hung up on it?
FLIGHTY: Is Tommy deeply loyal? Yes. Is Tommy deeply unreliable? Also yes. Sure, he would do anything for his friends, but that doesn’t necessarily mean he’ll show up on time—Tommy’s still not accustomed to having to really answer to someone, and because he’s so fast, he has a tendency to wander off… and then get distracted and stay wandered off. His brain works faster than most people’s, so he might follow the trail of a thought (literally) before whoever he’s talking to has finished a sentence, which has gotten him into trouble on more than one occasion.
VOLATILE: Unfortunately, Tommy’s temper has always been the source of all his problems. Angry outbursts are common in those who aren’t used to being heard, and Tommy’s entire childhood has been marked by neglect and worse; while he often has a goofy, fun-loving exterior that can get as good as he gives with teasing, a misplaced word or a teasing insult that cuts a little too deep can send him swinging straight into rage. It’s a minor issue when it’s a spat between friends; it’s a bigger issue when he’s vaporizing his school or dealing with his massive issues with authority.
RECKLESS: Remember that ‘unreliable, thinks faster than everyone else and will run off’ thing? Yeah, it becomes MORE troublesome! Tommy thinks fast, but that doesn’t mean he’s great at thinking before he acts—his body’s just too fast, and he’s going to start moving before someone can stop him. It doesn’t help that he has a compulsive need to keep moving lest his debilitating insecurity catch up to him (sure, most people can’t outrun their mental illness, but what about the fastest guy alive?), and he’d rather run headfirst into danger without a strategy and figure it out later than stop long enough to start lingering on self-doubt.
abilities.
SUPERSPEED: the name of the game. Tommy’s maximum speed is unknown, but he can easily run faster than the speed of sound, over water, etc.; he takes a lot of pride in having been able to run from the US to Genosha and searched the island faster than Billy was able to teleport there, sucker. His physiology is also adapted to allow him to run at such speeds without suffering from the friction or reduced oxygen, as well as somewhat reduced impact effects. He also has superhuman stamina to allow him to keep moving at incredible speed for several hours.
ENHANCED STRENGTH: With great speed comes great leg strength. Speed can lift about 1 ton’s weight with his lower body strength, and even his upper body is strong enough to bear about 800 pounds – mostly under duress. It’s not, like, his preferred state to be in, holding 800 pounds.
ENHANCED PERCEPTION: Look, when you’re moving way, way faster than everything around you, it kinda feels like the rest of the world is in slow motion. Tommy’s mind processes regular information at speeds aligned with his physical speed, allowing him to be aware of his surroundings while moving (the rest of the world literally does appear to be in slow motion) – and to react just as quickly, giving him lightning fast reflexes. This also means that he can, for example, read entire books in a very short timespan and remember what he’s read.
MOLECULAR ACCELERATION: The major difference between Tommy’s abilities and Pietro’s is that Tommy can create hyperkinetic vibrations that accelerate the molecules in matter and can make them, uh, explode. It also means he can accelerate his own molecules enough to pass through solid surfaces! But mostly the “blowing stuff up” part. (Pietro can sort of also do this, but Tommy can do it from a distance, therefore he is cooler and also better, thanks!)
WEAKNESSES. He is still, you know, broadly human; while his body can withstand extreme friction and he can dull the effects of sudden impacts, he is still painfully mortal and woundable in all the usual ways: a punch, a knife, a gun, an energy blast, a broken heart. He is also frankly unaccustomed to people being as quick as he is, and so can be caught off guard by anyone whose speed comes anywhere close to his. …And he’s an impulsive, reckless dumbass, his fatal flaw.
headcanons.
Mostly? Tommy’s here for the free food. Just kidding; Tommy was technically summoned to play the role of emotional support child to Wanda, a thing he has a lot of mixed feelings about—if only because every time he roasted Billy for being like, “you just don’t understand her like I do” about Wanda, it turned out he was kind of right, while Tommy was happy to shrug off the similarities and weird coincidences. But it is true that in a world that no longer has room for superpowered beings who want to live their lives in peace, “apathy” and “staying out of it” are no longer really options. He’s also lonely, but like hell he’d ever admit that one.
Absolutely did not sign the Accords!!! Tommy has ENOUGH issues with the government crawling up his ass to go willingly sign away his rights like that. REGISTER? No, thanks. That gets in the way of his ability to “get away with doing stuff,” thank you very much. Frankly, Tommy is hesitant to register for anything that would get him put into any kind of database, period, especially as a mutant with a criminal history—but everything that went down with the Accords certainly did not inspire confidence.
Another great reason to be willing to relocate to Sokovia? Tommy is effectively homeless. He wasn’t welcome back home after he broke out of SuperPrison—and frankly, didn’t want to go back there—so for some time he made an attempt at normalcy by moving in with Billy and Billy’s extremely normal family. It… didn’t really work out. They are extremely nice, and Tommy still makes a point to stop in for dinner and stay for a few days because he has some manners and he’s not about to wholly disrespect the amount of care and compassion that Mrs. K showed him. But a curfew, a sort-of-mom who expected him to be home for family dinner every single day at seven p.m., sharp… none of that really worked for him. He wanted it to! He really did. He wanted to be able to fit into their lives. But at the end of the day, Tommy just felt suffocated—and the lingering sense that sooner or later, he would fuck up the whole thing, earn their ire, and wear out his welcome, so he bailed before that could become a problem. In the meantime, he’s been squatting in a house in New Jersey with an old ex-villain who basically has dementia. Why, who’s your roommate?
Speaking of an old ex-villain who basically has dementia! Tommy has become a great homecare nurse. This is a pretty unexpected turn of events for someone who is pretty selfish and was once called a sociopath by the person he thought knew him best, and for someone who loathes doctors and labs and medicine of any kind. Taking care of Master P gave Tommy purpose in life when the Young Avengers couldn’t really keep operating, and he feels pretty guilty about abandoning him, actually. That means Tommy will still sprint across the whole of Europe and the Atlantic Ocean to check in on the guy and make sure he isn’t stuck on the ground because he fell over and couldn’t get up and to make sure he’s eating and all. Pandemonium’s not completely incapable of taking care of himself or anything, but he forgets.
After the Young Avengers broke him out of juvie, Tommy never bothered to return to high school. It’s that ol’ “fitting in with normalcy” thing again, and a desire to keep himself off the ‘grid’ as much as possible. He did, however, receive his GED, but he hasn’t bothered with trying to go to college—too expensive, first of all. Second of all, not really worth his time.
Tommy does have a superspeed mutation, yes, but it’s a little more complicated than that—hence his ability to vibrate molecules around him at range. As a product of Wanda’s soul, Tommy contains traces of magic within him, too, and it is the source of his abilities; Tommy’s superspeed is its own kind of reality warping, not dissimilar to time magic—he can move quickly by changing the world around him, so to speak. But practically, it’s superspeed.
In that vein, slowing down can be… a challenge. When you start doing everything faster than the speed of light, it can be difficult—at tims, agonizing even—to operate at a slower pace than everything else; imagine going from the internet speeds we have now back to dial-up. This became a huge factor in why Tommy struggled to maintain real human connections: people just couldn’t keep up with him, and he didn’t want to have to slow down for them. Joining the Young Avengers helped that a little as for the first time he met people who kind of understood him, but his attention span is shot to all hell, and he still struggles with a distinct lack of, uh, patience.
biography.
It all started with a curse. Frank and Mary Shepherd never really wanted a kid; Mary Shepherd can distinctly recall the moment she saw that little pink plus on a pregnancy test (and the second test, and the third, and the fourth) and burst into tears, damning whatever God was listening for giving her this problem that would make her body unrecognizable, belonging to someone else; for another mouth to feed; for forcing her into a marriage she didn’t really want. The whole fling with Frank had been hot-and-cold, intense passion and even more intense fighting. She’d hid the pregnancy at first, until her then-boyfriend inevitably found out and promised to be the best goddamn dad the world had ever seen. They may not have had much, but they would have love, and wasn’t that everything in the world?
No, it turns out, it was not. The fighting stopped… for a while. Frank and Mary got married, a combination bridal and baby shower that left them with a small house stocked with all the signs of domesticity: a mobile with little animals to hang over the crib, a Kitchen Aid mixer (the ultimate symbol of luxurious suburbia. Mary never imagined she’d have one; now that she did, she hardly knew what to do with it). But the tenuous peace they’d brokered didn’t last long, and Frank started drinking again, and Mary never wanted to have this stupid baby, didn’t he remember that, didn’t he remember how he’d talked her into having this baby and if it was his idea he was going to need to take some of the responsibility instead of going out after his shifts, stupid deadbeat?
Anyway, that basically set the stage for Tommy Shepherd’s life.
His parents split when he was young, and Mary Shepherd made the choice to reclaim her life, leaving behind the man and the kid. Frank left Tommy more or less to his own devices; he wanted a buddy more than he wanted a kid. It didn’t help that Tommy was a hyperactive, rambunctious kid as it was, never mind being one starved for attention; even at a young age, it was clear that while sometimes Frank liked him, at other times, his dad found him annoying as fuck, and Tommy struggled to be able to gauge which way the pendulum would swing. When whatever shenanigans Tommy got himself into stopped entertaining him, Frank stopped paying attention.What qualified as “entertaining” got rarer and rarer as Tommy got older, which meant he would start making grander and grander attempts for attention… and in a whirl of anger and every other poorly regulated emotion in the book, Tommy’s outbursts and tantrums took a turn for the violent. Prone to stirring up trouble and picking fights at school, Tommy was regularly in detention or suspended, and before he hit puberty, he already had a knack for finding himself on the wrong side of the law and inside juvenile detention halls.
Most of those stints were short stays for minor incidents—just enough to get a rowdy brown kid off the street, you know? But Frank’s girlfriend always had a funny feeling about that kid, his angry eyes, his unfeeling expression, the way he never flinched at gore, his stupid white hair. She was pretty convinced he must’ve been a mutant or something.
Turns out, she was right. (Or something. Tommy’s not clear on the details.)
When Tommy’s abilities manifested—the same day as that whole Novi Grad Sokovia thing, whatever the hell; he didn’t keep up with world events enough to know how they got there, but he did know where they ended up because you couldn’t escape that particular aspect of the news cycle—all he knew was that he could finally taste the air of freedom. Freedom from the crap of his daily life; freedom from teachers who loathed and distrusted him, who treated him like he was nothing but a lost cause and a trouble maker; from his dad who never wanted him around anyway—for once, Tommy’s life could be really, truly his own.
Anyway, that’s how he ended up vaporizing his school. It was mostly an accident. (Mostly.) No one had been inside—late at night, zipping circles around the track field in a blur too fast for the human eye, all Tommy had been wishing for was the promise that he wouldn’t have to go back to that cursed shithole. And suddenly, the shithole was no more.
He could have run away, of course. He was way faster than any cop car, and the cameras were gone. But when you’ve suddenly blown up your school and reduced it to nothing but ash and scorch marks on the pavement, what the hell do you do besides stand there in awe and start laughing in disbelief? So naturally… he was caught. Before Tommy could really register what was going on, special ops police had encircled the premises and nullified his powers, hauling him off to a unique hell specifically for those bad kids unlucky enough to have superpowers.
For someone who already felt caged within the confines of his crappy life, you can imagine how that went—Tommy did not exactly love superjuvie from the start. When the heads of the prison realized the extent of his mutations, they saw only an opportunity. Ah, war: the mother of invention. From there Tommy became the subject of secret, probably illegal experiments, as a team of scientists hoped to bottle his speed and his kinetic vibrations into something mass producible, or else to find a way to turn him into the United States’ greatest living weapon. They had invented the super-soldier, after all, and that was with a regular human. What else could they make?
The result was that Tommy had phenomenal control over his abilities in a short amount of time, and the instant the power nullification was turned off of his cell, he did what any sane person stuck in a prison would do: he blew the door right off. On the other side were a bunch of wannabe superheroes his age, in desperate need of help—somebody’s boyfriend had been kidnapped. Somebody, it turned out, who bore an odd resemblance to him; they may not have been identical, but there was an uncanny connection. (Tommy claimed not to notice. No one else was polite enough to do the same, apparently.)
So what was Tommy going to do, say no and keep himself incarcerated forever? The rest, as they say, is history: they saved the boyfriend, Tommy joined the team and adopted the name Speed, they went on their share of adventures. Tommy never returned to his dad’s house; his dad never asked about him. For a brief time, he lived with the Kaplans for lack of any place better to go, but after a few days of having to put up with Billy and Teddy sucking face and Rebecca Kaplan trying to lovingly psychologize him, it was time to go. He found some stability working odd jobs where he could get a month’s work done in a few days’ time and pay rent to a landlord who didn’t ask questions, but as having superpowers became more and more dangerous, so did Tommy’s plans for income.
Eventually, the Young Avengers were forced to disband, and Tommy found his way back to New Jersey. Until the Mistress of Magic appeared, apparently demanding his presence…
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( 🎶 ) 𝗦𝗔𝗟𝗨𝗧𝗔𝗧𝗜𝗢𝗡𝗦, 𝗡𝗘𝗥𝗗𝗦 ! my name is 𝗷𝗮𝗰𝗲 ( h / h, 19+ ) and i’m thrilled to be here !! now that most of the revamp is out of the way, i’m feeling extra ready to dive in and plot with all of you !! so, before i get too carried away, i’d love for you all to re-meet my first muse here: 𝗕𝗔𝗘 𝗥𝗢𝗛𝗔 ( h / h, b. 2001 ) ! he’s a software engineering major, a member of the school’s music club, an usher at saengsacho hall, and he resides all by his lonesome in the north wing dorms, room 03 ! his statistics page can be found 𝗵𝗲𝗿𝗲, and below the cut, you’ll find a brief 𝘁𝗹𝗱𝗿 version of his past, as well as deeper glimpses of his personality. if you are at all interested in plotting with him, 𝗴𝗶𝘃𝗲 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝗽𝗼𝘀𝘁 𝗮 𝗹𝗶𝗸𝗲 and i’ll reach out as soon as possible. i communicate on here and on 𝗱𝗶𝘀𝗰𝗼𝗿𝗱 — whatever best suits you and your style of plotting ! thank you for having me !! ✌🏼✨
( 🎶 ) 𝗖𝗛𝗥𝗢𝗡𝗜𝗖𝗟𝗘𝗦 !
𝟬𝟭. he was born and raised in the seocho area of seoul, korea.
𝟬𝟮. dad’s a mechanical engineer for hyundai, mom’s an accountant.
𝟬𝟯. he was called a child genius and whiz kid during his childhood.
𝟬𝟰. learning new things came easily to him; in advanced education.
𝟬𝟱. felt tremendous pressure to succeed as a kid—it crushed him.
𝟬𝟲. mom and pop expected perfection; older brothers resented him.
𝟬𝟳. most of his friends in school only used him for his “ brains. ”
𝟬𝟴. later on, he “ discovered ” music; fell head over heels in love.
𝟬𝟵. self-taught himself the guitar in secret; production software, too.
𝟭𝟬. wanted to go to school for music, but his ‘rents threatened him.
𝟭𝟭. enrolled in kyungwon university—a software engineering major.
𝟭𝟮. continues strengthening his music skills, falls deeper in love. 🎶
( 🎶 ) 𝗗𝗜𝗦𝗣𝗢𝗦𝗜𝗧𝗜𝗢𝗡, 𝗘𝗧𝗖. !
𝟬𝟭. upon first meeting roha, it’s easy to tell that he has deep emotions. he’s quiet, often reticent, and generally believes that he’s hard for people to understand. spoiler alert: he’s right. he’s enigmatic, in a sense, and it’s easy for new people to feel perplexed by him. you can catch him staring out of a nearby window lost in thought, or in secluded stairwells taking naps so he can catch up on dreaming. because he felt, and still feels, immense pressure to succeed in day-to-day life, roha found it easier to live in the imaginary world he constructed in his mind whenever he could; escapism becoming a vice of his. though, whenever he does pay attention to the real world in front of him and makes an effort to connect with others, he picks up on energy and emotions very easily — making him highly empathetic, but this is sometimes to a fault. for example, if someone is angry or upset, he mirrors their feelings and it tanks his mood. he tries his best to separate himself from other people’s problems, but it’s hard.
𝟬𝟮. roha can also be quite stubborn in his own feelings, and values his personal freedom a whole helluva lot. even though he eventually caved to his parents demands of him, he still fights back by continuing to pursue music in private. he decided on software engineering as a major because it’s practical enough to appease his mom and dad’s wishes, but it also allows him to learn more about building his own software, and he hopes to use that skill in the future to develop new, innovative production software for music. that’s his plan for now, and he loves whenever he can make friends that share his same passions. collaborating with people on music projects is one of his favorite things to do, so if your muse is a singer, or an instrumentalist, or a composer, or whatever-else, he’ll definitely wanna chat them up. kindred spirits are a big deal to him.
𝟬𝟯. he’s a hard worker, and while this is definitely a positive trait all-in-all, roha sometimes lets it negatively effect his health. he pulls all-nighters a lot because he loves the nighttime, and he often claims that the moon speaks to him and gives him ideas. whether it be staying up until early morning in order to finish assignments, study for tests, or finding new ways to use classic chord progressions, he often runs on little-to-no sleep and catches up by taking naps whenever ( and wherever ) he can. additionally, despite being sent money monthly by his father in order to sustain himself and focus on school, he’s rather thrifty with his spending. some may call him a cheapskate, others may argue that he’s wise with his cash, but he controls his desires and impulses well. that said, though, whenever he really wants something, he goes all out to get it and is rather possessive of his belongings. this, sadly, goes hand in hand with romance, too. possessiveness is, unfortunately, another vice of his.
𝟬𝟰. musically, roha creates tunes that are rather lo-fi, bedroom rock / pop, and his style is expanding with each new day. i want to say that his songs are actually really great to study to, and they may have ended up on some youtube playlists, or just on people’s soundcloud accounts, for that purpose. lately though, he’s been wanting to collaborate with others. he wants to learn from the styles of different musicians, so that’s where he’s at now. what’s sad about this is that he’s often a little too shy to approach people first, so his list of possible / dream collaborators is long, but will he message them ?? no, but he’s working on it. some references for how i envision his music sounding are here and here !!
𝟬𝟱. roha is hopelessly lazy a lot of the time. this was the bane of his parents’ existence when he still lived with them. if he has to choose between last minute studying for an exam or sleeping in, he’ll choose sleeping in 100% of the time. if his dorm is getting messy and he knows he has to clean it, he likely won’t for a couple more days. he’d also rather stay-in and order delivery instead of cooking or going out for food himself. there are many things about him that would qualify him as a lackadaisical individual, and while some find it charming, a lot of others are totally fed up with his bullshit.
𝗻𝗼𝘁𝗲, roha's a little more established as a muse for me than ryō was, but i’m still excited to get to know him even more. in many ways, he’s still a work-in-progress, especially in this new verse !! i plan to discover more about him while i write, but he’s snippets of what i have so far. thank you all for reading — you’re the best !!
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a thing i’ve had in my wips for a hot min ft Yesenia and a tiny Cesare
79’s Club, 2001
Yesenia presses her back to the door and shuts her eyes tightly. She tries hard to drown out the muffled beats of music playing.
She was almost home. Back to the desert, in the small hideaway she called home for so long. She was almost in his arms and far, far away from here…
“Tia?”
Yesenia opens her eyes with a gasp, and catches Cesare sitting at his mother’s spot of the vanity table. A mess of papers and a school text book laid over the table, but his eyes watched her curiously, a hint of worry filling them. “Tia,” he repeats, “are you okay?”
“Celito!” Yesenia greets, swiftly wiping away the tears that gathered in her eyes. “What are you doing here? I thought your mama had tonight off?” She asks, making her way to him. On the way, she plucks her satin robe from a hook, slipping it on.
Cesare sighs, resting his chin on his hand. “She got called in last minute,” He mumbles. “I had to brings my homework. I forgot my Gameboy,” he laments. Yesenia chuckles, tugging her seat over. She looks over the papers and hums.
“Mmm, math,” Yesenia sighs with a click of her tongue. “How’s it coming along?” She asks, resting an elbow on the table, her hand tangled into the dark strands of her hair.
“Bad,” Cesare replies bluntly. “It’s long division.”
Yesenia offers a hand and Cesare gladly pushes the text book to her. Her eyes scan over a few examples “Chingada,” Yesenia remarks, then winces. “Ay Señor,” she quickly corrects. “This is math now?”
“Horrible, right?” Cesare asks, leaning back in the chair, her tried balancing the pencil on his nose. “I’m no good at it. I’m gonna fail,” He sighs.
Yesenia frowns, “Cesare Bruno, do not let me hear you say something like that, again.” She says firmly and fully in Spanish. The young boy pauses and sits up, lowering his head.
“Lo siento tía,” He says quickly, peeking a glance up to her.
Yesenia shakes her head, fixing up the scattered papers. “I do not want to hear you ever put yourself down like that. Ever.” She continues. “It’s okay to ask for help.”
Cesare nods quickly, tugging through papers and book back to him. “Will you help me?”
Yesenia smiles, “Of course,” She moves closer, her hair falling from her face.
Cesare pauses. The sight of a dark bruise on her cheek comes into his vision. “Tia, what’s that?” Cesare asks, pointing at her cheek. Yesenia feels her skin go cold as she tenses and covers the growing bruise with her hand.
“It’s nothing, mijo,” Yesenia assures gently, giving him a smile. “I’ll be fine.”
A customer had gotten too handsy. Yesenia could still feel the way his fist slammed across her face when she confronted him. Yesenia’s jaw ticks at the memory from only moments ago. Lana had bouncers on the man in an instant, as Yesenia took off. While the physical pain did hurt. It was her pride and something else deep within her that hurt even more.
“When I grow up, I’ll protect you, and mami and Lana. I’ll be big and strong,”Cesare says suddenly, puffing his chest out a bit. “I’ll help you just like you help me.”
Yesenia grins, pressing a kiss to his cheek. She only hoped and prayed he and his mother could ride above all this.
“I know you will.” Yesenia replies “But let’s work out that brain of yours for now. So if we divide 8 by…”
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No seriously [climbs out of bed] I've been trying to sleep but Logic Mortal Brain is trying to find Reason in her Madness. I side-hat for the mad hatter himself and even he has a big shrug emoji while trying to dump her. He just says try not to find Reason in it, but I can not. Can not not. Can not not seek Reason here. Woman wtf is you doing.
After I laughed off her want to pull me into a lawsuit game, did she really try to put out a restraining order against untagged posts on my own blog?
Like she's gonna restraining order me, Hermes, and the collective unconscious? She's gonna lawsuit herself out of her tartarian fate? This is like when she tried to sue the mechanic in a loop for half a year but infinitely more retarded, on Eternity.
Can't hold her own ego on her own blog from the reflections of her own lies but she's gonna try to lawsuit me about it. "Dear judge he cast witchcraft on me that made me tell the truth."
"Dear judge I'm hexed for the rest of my life and it's his fault." "Um... yeah, okay. Your response?" "She's insane, your honor, and built a religious cult between her and her new spouse idolizing my self image from 2009 and my villain from 2001. Then stalked me for three years." what. "I said what I said."
"Dear judge he says meanie truths about me on his own journal. Make him stop." Why are you reading his journal for three years. "Um..."
QED, I'm the one that needs the restraining order. Against YOU. But I took it to a higher order. Catch up, buttercup.
Welcome to literal hell. And the fun trick is, you've been here a long time. Told you at the start whichever me was having a hard time catching up on how hard you've fucked up. We're all caught up now sweetie. It's too late.
No amount of filed suits will fill the abyss inside you, or fix the crack in your delusional faith chassis, or your shattered ego or deleted blog. Your world of shadows is as hollow to you as you are now. And you have to live with that. And with my shadows pushing you to and fro as your gods of delusion bound into your uncentered pyramids.
I told you, Mercury and Saturn were arguing your fate.
This is it.
You've been here before, Shealyn. Trying to lawsuit your way out of a mistake in a loop, not knowing how to act, or running away from the act. You would twirl your hair back then, but weren't ripping it out.
I'm sorry your current pile of trash you call a husband doesn't know how to Act. No wonder you're pulling your hair out. You downgraded into clueless deluluville and I leveled up once you were out of my way and got the cosmic glo-up. Sucks for you, you cock gobbling plagiaristic octopus-jibberish spewing purple catted biiiiiiiiiitch.
Those are still my air jordans. I'm still motherfucking coming for them. You still know the fucking truth. But daddy taught me a fun way. Ever play AFK Journey? It's like that.
youtube
"No judge sir, I'm not a controlling thundercunt at all sir, I'm just trying to gag a man that left me three years ago on his own journal I choose to read."
Well... why do you choose to read it.
"Because he's telling the truth and I need to know what part of my wicked past to defend against and spin new lies for oops I said that out loud."
Has he been talking about you all 3 years? No sir but 3 whole months. Sir she spent eight months in a furry porn server trying to find my business investor after 3 years of her harassing every group I follow online to do social damage to me. I spent 2 1/2 months telling the truth and practicing my actual religion she corrupts, without fear. Her reaction is to silence me.
Yeah sure. Gag order me off my own blog. Good luck, you controlling, abusive cunt. Delusional piece of shit this close to having a mental breakdown because you realize everything you have is a lie. Fucking everything. Your god is a man and he hates you and it's your fault. Your relationship is two self justifying vultures deluding themselves into the deepest pits of medication. And ur bald now.
I could have gone off on you at any point. I left you to your fucking Barbie Dreamhouse delusions. But you couldn't fucking control yourself.
Shattering your entire world was our only choice to end this. But you're still the ditz that fucking drove right into the biggest cosmological Fuck You Alignment of the brotherhoods possible. Cuz you can't stay off this fine ass dick.
No seriously in all the retarded moments for you to be retarded in, that was a fucking singularity of retardation.
No like it's literally a singularity, there's a surprising amount of those, but you wouldn't comprehend it. Anyway, I'm already offboarding the godbus, the others aboard can do as they wilt, last reading is the 10th. It's over girlie, your Everything is just Over. However many days months or years you have left breathing will be in observation of how Over it all is for you, each small achievement you overpraise going up like meaningless smoke in this maze of death. Because you won't accept the light for it to be life.
I used to be like you. Then I grew up, I'm just trying to get this septic backup out of my mainline, and it's name is Shealyn. But if I Am I Am, she's me, and look how far she's been processed already. The rest will do the work for me after, my part in this is almost done.
I know I know Crowley, enough of Because or trying to find Reason but oh my me what.
Guys bad news about the divine, it's a clown show. And you're already inout it.
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