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byima · 3 years

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Six Weeks at the Blofis’s pt 1

We back baby, read here or on AO3

pt 1: the mortifying incident

"Cheers to making it through the week," Percy says, his second glass of minty cocktail raised in the air for a toast.

The waiter passes Annabeth her refill and she clinks her glass to his. "Cheers to that."

Both of them knock back their drinks, and maybe the liquor will wash away the worst of the past week.

Gods. Only seven days into their temporary stay at the Blofis townhouse and they're already supplementing with alcoholic beverages.

They hadn't planned on 'moving in with the parents,' but after wires got crossed with the people moving into their old place, and because of some unforeseen delays in the remodeling of their new place, they found themselves out of a home for six weeks and scrambling for somewhere to stay. That place ended up being the Blofis brownstone for a lot of really logical reasons.

Nonetheless, the week had been a miniseries in frustrations. Both of them now had longer commutes, Percy was working extra hours to offset additional costs of moving and wedding expenses (the wedding for which they still hadn't sent out thank you cards), Annabeth was on a deadline to turn in a final report for a state grant that would impact her compensation at the end of the fiscal year, and for some strange reason, U-hauls and storage units had been scarce throughout Brooklyn. Percy had spent the last 48 hours at the station, they had fought several times, and Annabeth had cried more than she would like to admit.

So on Friday night, they went on a date. Just the two of them. And they were going to relax, and they were going to enjoy themselves.

"I found a new bedmate in your absence." Their drinks are empty, plates cleared, and they've just been going back and forth for about an hour, tucked cozily in a corner booth at their favorite sushi spot. She's pressed to his right side and he's got his arm around her shoulders.

"Mmhmm," his left hand finds her leg through the slit of her long dress. It's a pale blue floral number, with capped sleeves and buttons all the way down the front. "Tell me about him. Should I be jealous?"

"Very." She bites her bottom lip when his warm palm settles on her thigh. Her mouth is painted a rich red color and he wants her lips on him. "She doesn't snore."

"Mhmm." He drags his nose along her hairline. "I knew one day you'd toss me over for a girl."

"She pokes me awake, occasionally. Not nearly as often as you do."

"Fair enough." His long fingers are trailing up her thigh, while his other hand, visible to any onlookers, casually toys with her long, loose curls. "What else do I do that your new bedfellow doesn't?"

She doesn't answer, but her red mouth parts and grey eyes lock with sea green when his seeking hand bypasses dinner appropriate territory.

She crosses her legs, effectively trapping his hand. He buries his smile in her hair.

"Come on," he mumbles into the curly, blonde mass. "Don't make this harder than it has to be."

Her right hand travels from his knee to his lap, and her parted lips stretched into a smile when he clears his throat.

"This is a losing battle, babe, you know that." She tilts her head until he lifts his face from her fragrant curls and their foreheads touch.

He does know that. But sparring with Annabeth is one of his favorite pastimes. And the alcohol in his system is only egging him on for this particular war, impending defeat notwithstanding.

She caresses with increased boldness and he blows out a breath. "Woah."

"I'm gonna call for the check," she whispers. "Sounds good?"

"Yup."

One handsy subway ride later, and they are back at the brownstone, so wrapped up in each other they barely remember to shut the door.

He starts pulling her up the upstairs to where the bedrooms are, but she stops him at the second step, stumbling under the burden of his heavier mass. Her handbag drops to the wooden stairs with a thump.

"We can't." She tries to tugs him down to her, frowning slightly. "Estelle is probably in our bed. Definitely actually." She sways on her feet, kept upright by his hand in hers.

"What?" He sounds distracted. He climbs down, lifting their joint hands, and walks around her, half-twirling her into his arms. He's back in her personal space: hands at the dip of her waist, and mouth seeking the erogenous zone below her ear.

"I told you." She tilts her head with a noise of pleasure. "Estelle's been sleeping with me."

He's walking her backwards, aiming for the couch, and they bump into the coffee table on the way.

"You didn't tell me anything…" he murmurs, trailing off, confused. "Wait, Estelle? You replaced me with Estelle?" His breath, bearing a heady odor of alcohol, fans across her face as he stops walking and drags his face from her neck to study her.

"Uh-huh." Annabeth is unbuttoning his white dress shirt with slightly drunken focus. "You look really good in white."

"No. No no no." He catches her wrists in his hands. "She can't keep doing that. Not when I'm here."

"You're gonna have to tell her that, big brother. Because I can't. I'm her best friend." She frees her hands and is working the last few buttons loose. "I want this, Perce. It's been a week…"

She's cut off as Percy sets into motion once again, dragging her into the kitchen. His open button-up fills like a windward sail as his rapid, long-legged strides take them through the entryway.

"But we can't," she bemoans. "There's no place for us…"

"Yes we can." Percy pulls her to the counter and she draws her hands up his neck; he backs her up and seals his mouth over hers. Her hands skate up and down his bare chest, along his sides, down the warm row of contracting abs. His hands rub over her ass, gripping it through the light blue patterned linen.

She brushes him below the belt, and he groans and lifts one hand to angle her head for a greedier, wetter kiss: suckling her lips and tongue and licking into her mouth.

The kiss ends with a damp noise. "This is a bad idea," Annabeth moans against his beard bristled cheek, drawing in labored breaths. Her fingers twist in the hair at his nape. She has widened her stance so he can stand between her legs and push her into the counter, his hips molded to hers. He's dragging his hands along her body, pausing to palm and massage what he can and she pulls his mouth back down to meet hers. A bad idea that feels so good, she thinks, as she pulls his lower lip into her mouth.

"This is a phenomenal idea, I think." Percy breathes this into her mouth before he grips the back of her thighs and hoists her up. He drops her on the counter, finding her leg through the slit once again to hold it to his hip.

"What are you up to Perseus Jackson?" She winds her arms around his neck and wraps her leg around his, anchoring him to her.

"What do you think I'm up to, Annabeth? Don't call me that." His hands have left her legs and have started working the long line of buttons on her dress free.

He looks edible: prickly jaw, rumpled hair, shirt open to display his tan, broad torso. Her personal Adonis. She massages her hands into the soft hair covering his chest. And he's trying to focus on unbuttoning her dress but he gets distracted too easily; pushing up her skirt to reveal more of her toned legs, meeting her mouth for heated kisses, and dragging his teeth against her chest.

It's dark in the kitchen and it feels so private and removed, because it's just them and their warm, heavy breathing and the rocking and gripping and rubbing and a mutual promise that's felt more than spoken and that promise is passed from mouth to mouth, from skin to skin and it iterates 'I won't take my hands off of you as long as you don't take yours off of me.'

Percy finally gets her dress fully unbuttoned. It's fire that follows, and though for a living he puts out flames, he'll stoke this heat until it consumes her. With my body I thee worship, that's another promise, a vow they made not even two months ago, and Percy covers a trembling Annabeth's cries with his mouth and makes good on that promise, putting an end to the week from hell with the tried and true rhythm of their moving bodies. With my body I thee worship; this is reconnection, and Percy holds her head in his hands as they seal this covenant.

They startle when the lights flicker on and off in rapid beats. Annabeth breaks their kiss in confusion.

"You guys are in my kitchen, and you guys are loud."

It's Sally. In the kitchen entryway. She's in a large gray bathrobe and the expression on her face is a little embarrassed, mostly fatigued, and very annoyed.

Annabeth makes a noise as they separate, and then she's flushing beet red and thinking about vomiting from embarrassment as she frantically pulls the halves of her dress together while Percy fumbles to pull his pants up from around his knees.

"Shit. Mom-"

"Oh my gods. Sally-"

In their uncoordinated movements, they accidentally knock over a vase of roses, which had, up until that moment, narrowly missed out on the action.

Sally reaches reflexively, stumbling forward from the entryway, but it's too late. It hits the tile with a way-too-loud crash.

That, of course, draws a worried Paul down the stairs, thump thump thump, and into the kitchen. Paul takes one look at the scene and leaves, mumbling something about a towel.

Sally is whispering furiously, "You better pray Estelle doesn't wake up, because this is a lot to explain." She's moving to the side of the counter opposite them to bend over and retrieve the roses from the wet, glassy mess and place them on the counter.

Percy has got his zip up and is rebuttoning Annabeth's dress, jaw clenched in discomfort, while she refastens her bra. He's disoriented, still a little drunk and trying to shake the feeling. Annabeth can't stop babbling in apology.

"I can't believe- Sally I'm so so sorry, we got carried away, totally carried away. And we had been drinking and- and, everyone was asleep upstairs-"

Percy pleads, "Annabeth," desperate for her to stop talking. They finish her buttons and he steps back to help her slide down from the countertop so she can turn and face Sally.

Light footsteps pat into the kitchen and Percy's still pounding heart drops to his spleen. Oh gods, he can't catch a break.

"Annabeth. You're back," Estelle says in a sweet, sleepy voice. She's awake. And she's shuffling to the counter to give her a hug, but all three of them yell.

"Stop!"

"Wait-"

"Estelle there's glass!"

She startles at their raised voices and steps back. Annabeth feels a fresh burn of tears and, frustrated, she pushes her palm against her forehead. Estelle is tired and confused and wipes wispy black hair out of her face. "Are you gonna come to bed Annabeth?"

Annabeth looks at Sally, who gestures and says, "Go, she needs to go back to sleep. Stelle-belle, Annabeth is gonna go up with you so you can go right back to sleep, alright?"

Estelle nods, and reaches her hand towards her.

Annabeth hurries to her, realizes she's only got one sandal on, scans the floor and locates her wayward shoe, then jams her foot in quickly and takes Estelle's hand, shocked at Sally trusting her young daughter with the woman she found nailing her son on her kitchen counter.

Sally's eyes follow the two of them out of the kitchen and up the stairs before she rounds on Percy, who's been leaning against the sink, buttoning his shirt.

"I don't have anything to say," she starts. Paul is back with a towel and he underhand tosses it to Percy. One awkward "alrighty then" later and he's out of the kitchen as Sally's rant continues. "You two are married at this point and even if you weren't, I wouldn't care." She bends down to pick up the larger chunks of glass. "But to come back here so late? Drunk?"

She tosses the broken glass into the trash can Percy has grabbed and is holding towards her. "And you're loud enough to wake up the entire house? This isn't some frat house, baby. Did you consider Paul, or Estelle?"

Percy drags his hand over his mouth, speechless. His eyes are drawn to the messy smear of red lipstick on his hand. The same red that had been applied oh-so-enticingly to Annabeth's mouth is now a smudge on his palm, and the full mortification of the moment settles on him so sharply he almost feels angry.

"Hey. Mom. I'm sorry. Look, I've got it. I'm sorry." Sally stands slowly and watches Percy impatiently pick up the remaining shards before he drops the towel over the main splash. The towel unnaturally absorbs the wetness, and it takes her tired mind a couple seconds to realize Percy is causing the fabric to draw in droplets that have spread further along the kitchen floor. Sally blinks when Percy snatches it up and drops the sodden thing into the sink.

He doesn't look at her when he grabs the broom from where it's tucked next to the refrigerator and starts sweeping up the remaining evidence of the mishap.

"Well," she begins. Percy still won't look at her.

"Percy." He looks up from what he's doing, detecting a hint of merriment in her voice.

"Mom-"

It's too late. She's laughing, it's a mix of disbelief and exhaustion and vindication, then she's turning away to walk out of the kitchen.

"In the damn kitchen."

Percy fully stops sweeping and looks down at the broom handle in his hands. "Fuck." He says it so matter-of-factly that Sally starts laughing even harder, and his shoulders shake as even he begins to chuckle.

"My girlfriends will be hearing about this."

"Oh please, Mom, don't..." Percy begs, ears going red as he resumes his task.

"Nope, it's my right as mother and witness." She turns at the entryway to face him, brows raised and with a smile that dares him to argue. "And you seem to have this," she gestures to the remaining mess, "handled, so I'm going back to bed."

She's out of the kitchen, waving her hand dismissively.

He still hears her say, "I mean, you know these things, but lord help me, you never want to see them."

---

Percy walks into their temporary bedroom and finds Annabeth, makeup-less and in his t-shirt and a pair of his sweats, laying with a sleeping Estelle, brushing her hair away from her face. She glances at him when he enters, then her eyes are back on the seven year old.

He starts undressing for bed. "You were really serious about her sleeping with you."

Annabeth nods.

He pulls off his briefs and tugs on a pair of pajama bottoms, only grabbing a t-shirt when she gives him a pointed look.

"So how are we ever gonna finish what we started in the kitchen?"

"We aren't." She stares him down as he joins them in bed. "Not in this house."

His eyes widen. "You can't be serious?"

She purses her lips and her eyebrows draw together. She is serious. "Percy. That was mortifying. In a horrible, sobering way."

He gets under the covers. "Yeah. It was. I get that. But in the end Mom was laughing. She's not exactly a nun." He turns on his side. "Otherwise I wouldn't exist."

"It's one thing to be a happy duo of not-nuns. It's another thing to walk into your son and your daughter-in-law having sex on your kitchen counter." Her hand slowly rubs Estelle's back. "I can't even think about sex with you without recalling her expression."

Percy rolls his eyes. He watches her soothe his sleeping sister.

"This is cute," he comments after a moment. She smiles slightly in answer, eyes still on Estelle. "But, I'm not gonna lie, it sort of turns me on in a thinking-about-making-babies-with-you kind of way."

She looks at him with a frown. "You are horrible."

"Remember who had an orgasm back there? Remember who didn't?"

Her face relaxes out of the frown and she's remorseful enough to blush before her attention goes back to Estelle.

"Come on." He reaches over Estelle to briefly shake Annabeth's thigh. "Where's my best friend, my wife, Annabeth Chase? Daring. Demanding. A sexual deviant."

"She had a too-close encounter with your mom, and will not be available for the next five weeks."

He props his head up with his elbow.

"So you're gonna use my sister as a cock block?"

She doesn't reply, but he sees a smile tug at the corners of her mouth.

He shakes his head, "You are unbelievable."

He balances over Estelle, kisses her forehead, then leans further to kiss Annabeth's mouth. "But I'm irresistible. So you're not gonna last."

"You're very cocky."

"You love me like that. You fake prude."

#six weeks at the blofis's #mypjofic #percy jackon and the olympians #percabeth #percy and annabeth

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themyskira · 5 years

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The Life of Captain Marvel - issue #3

Previously: Carol has spent the last nine months listening to early-2000s emo music while watching herself cry in the mirror, basically.

She let her brother get in a car accident, then made his brain injury all about her.

She found out something private about her parents’ relationship problems, and made that all about her as well.

She discovered an alien device among her father’s possessions, but she couldn't find a way to wring family drama out of that one, so she ignored it.

Now the alien device has enabled a Kree cyborg assassin to track her and her mother down, and it almost (but not quite) forces the two of them to have an actual conversation.

This is the issue where things really kick into high bullshit.

(No talk of family violence in this one, thankfully, but love interest Louis goes into some creepy, coercive Nice Guy territory.)

Dishwasher continues to be the shittiest stealth assassination unit ever. Having already conspicuously crash-landed, murdered two people and caused a gigantic explosion on a major highway, it has stolen a boat (so probs another murder in there as well) and is drawing further attention to itself by speeding so erratically around Harspwell Sound that it almost capsizes a smaller vessel.

But who could possibly see past this cunning disguise?

Carol, meanwhile, is apparently psychic. She thinks to herself,

I can’t get away from the feeling that something is wrong. I woke up in a panic this morning, reeling. For a split second, I couldn’t remember… What had happened? What terrible thing? Why was I spinning?

Because you’re trying to wake up from this nightmare of a comic?

She decides to let off some steam by running, which is apparently something that has always helped her clear her head.

This leads into a flashback of a SUPERNATURALLY FAST YOUNG CAROL OUTRUNNING A GODDAMNED TRUCK.

fuckin WHAT.

We will later find out that Carol, being half-Kree, was always naturally faster and stronger than the average human (though it wasn’t until the Psyche-Magnitron ‘jumpstarted’ her Kree powers that she got the full superpowered package).

That’s what we’re told. Except Margaret Stohl and flashback artist Marguerite Sauvage go so hilariously over-the-top in their portrayal of Carol as a child, so what we end up seeing is a newborn infant with such an iron grip that she causes her father GENUINE PAIN, and a fourteen-year-old girl who can OUTRUN MOTOR VEHICLES.

And yet, supposedly neither she nor anybody else around her twirled that there was anything out-of-the-ordinary about her??

In the present, Carol is snapped out of her reverie to discover that she is jogging mid-air.

Louis: Whatcha up to? Get it? Up to? Carol: Um… Calm down. Get it? Down?

So, we’ve all seen some version of this trope, right? The stressed-out super-person goes to the gym to take out some of their tension on a punching bag, only to unintentionally lash out with their full power and send the bag flying clean across the room, something like that.

What weirds me out about this iteration is that— jogging does not logically bleed into flying. They’re different forms of movement, presumably requiring the exertion of different muscles and associated with different physical sensations. It’s not so much ‘super-person unthinkingly hits the punching bag so hard they pulverise it’ as it is ‘super-person unthinkingly turns their punch into a cartwheel mid-swing’.

Carol and Louis talk. He suggests that “Maybe it’s time ta drop the Mystery of the Old Lettahs, Nancy Drew”.

WHAT MYSTERY. THERE IS NO MYSTERY.

I mean, no, it turns out there is a mystery because the letters were really written to Carol’s mother, who is a secret alien, but CAROL has no reason to know any of this as yet. As far as she’s concerned, the extent of the mystery was ‘ohshit dad had an affair? does mom know?? how will I tell her?? should I tell her??’ And then her mum was like, ‘yep I knew, ‘scool’. MYSTERY SOLVED. THE END.

I mean, don’t get me wrong, this family has a bucketload of issues to work through, but those letters don’t particularly factor into any of them.

Carol wonders what else she didn’t notice about her family.

“Were we normal, Louis? Did I even seem normal? Or… yanno… was there something funky about me too?”

You mean aside from the fact that you could run faster than a speeding pickup truck?

But of course this is Louis’s cue to confess that he’s had a crush on her since he first laid eyes on her… which he does by faintly negging her, because Louis is a turd.

“All those brains and you never figured that one out? You were the only thing I noticed, most days. … You’d hafta be stupid dense to miss that.”

Louis takes Carol’s hand and moves in for the kiss, just as Carol begins to hear a small but insistent beeping that sounds like a distress beacon. Louis handles it SUPER WELL.

Bear in mind, this scene is presented as humorous and cute.

[Louis goes in for the kiss] Carol: Wait— do you hear that? Louis: Shh. I’ve been picturing this since I was 14…

So straight away, Louis is viewing and treating Carol like an object — not an equal partner in this scene but a vehicle for his sexual fantasies. Carol is not enthusiastically consenting. She’s asking him to wait. She’s visibly distracted and concerned. His response is ‘shut up, you’re spoiling my boner’.

Carol: [leaning back from the kiss] …is that a car alarm? Some kinda distress beacon? Am I just freaking out because my childhood friend is, like, millimetres from planting one on me?? Louis: …but with less talking…

We are just going to zoom on past this atrocious dialogue because we do not have the time.

The important thing is, Carol is visibly uncomfortable and Louis does not care. Carol is making it clear that (a) she’s distracted and not in the moment, (b) she’s concerned someone might be in trouble and she may need to get her superhero on and (c) she’s panicking a little at the prospect of kissing Louis. This is the point where any decent person would back off and ask if she’s okay, if she wants this, if she wants to slow down, if she needs to go do the superhero thing.

Louis, who let me remind you is supposed to be a likeable love interest, again tells her to shut up with an aside that she’s less talkative in his sex fantasies.

Carol: [pulling right back in concern as the beeping grows more urgent] Hold that thought. Definitely not a car alarm. Louis: [visibly irritated now] …way less talking.

AND LOUIS TELLS HER TO SHUT UP AGAIN.

Carol: [flying into action] Something’s happening…! Louis: [kicking a stone sullenly] I know, I’m the guy tryna make it happen…! [sighs loudly]

Louis is a classic fucking Nice Guy.

He thinks that because of their recently-rekindled childhood friendship, because he’s listened to her troubles and offered a shoulder to cry on, because he’s finally managed to engineer this romantic moment alone — he’s therefore entitled to Carol’s love. So when Carol keeps pulling away from his increasingly pushy advances, she’s the one being unfair — he’s trying so hard to “make it happen” and she’s not giving him anything in return!

The fact that he’s whining about Carol not reciprocating literally as she leaps into superhero mode and flies to investigate a potential threat makes this particularly laughable, but there are no circumstances in which this behaviour is okay.

In every panel, Carol is sending clear signals that she wants to stop or slow down, and Louis responds by trying to pressure her into doing what he wants — first by shushing her, then by belittling her for talking too much, and finally by sulking and blaming her.

AGAIN. THIS IS THE MAIN ROMANTIC INTEREST IN THIS BOOK. CAROL IS SUPPOSED TO LIKE HIM. WE ARE SUPPOSED TO LIKE HIM.

WHAT THE F U C K

Carol traces the sound to the family home and realises that it’s coming from the garage. When she gets there, Marie — apparently the only other person who can hear the beeping, is in a frantic state. She’s found the source — the obviously extraterrestrial device Carol found, inadvertently activated and promptly forgot about back in issue 1 — and she’s super worked up about it.

“It shouldn’t be here! […] It wasn’t his. I don’t even know why he kept it… this piece of junk…”

Okay so first of all, you do know why he kept it, that is a lie. Next issue we’ll find out that the device is a beacon through which the Kree military could track and communicate with operatives like Mari-Ell/Marie. When Marie decided to desert the Kree military and commit to raising a family with Joe on Earth, she gave him the beacon as a gesture and they switched it off together.

Obviously he was going to keep it. He wouldn’t have been capable of destroying it and it’s clearly not something you can throw in the bin. Marie could have destroyed it and ensured that it could never be inadvertently switched on — say, by her dumbass daughter — and used to track them both down, but I guess incompetence runs in the family.

Carol asks who the obvious alien technology belonged to if it didn’t belong to Joe, and Marie screeches that “IT BELONGED TO HER!”

Of course, she needs to say that — she has to keep up the pretence that this is all about an imaginary mistress and not about her and Carol being aliens — because Stohl doesn’t want to give away the game yet. But the question is, why would she at this point?

Marie is a deserter and a fugitive from the Kree military. She knows that, were the Kree ever to track her down, she would be summarily executed for treason. She has just discovered that her beacon — the one surefire way the Kree have of locating her — has been activated and is now beeping insistently. Knowing how the military operates, she should know that the Vacuum Kleaner is on its way to kill her and her family, and that it almost certainly has a bead on her location.

(Seems pretty incompetent on the Kree’s part to have an alarm installed in the beacon to let the deserter know an assassin is coming, but as we’ve seen The Mopman Prophecies is a pretty terrible assassin.)

Priority one should be deactivating and/or destroying the beacon. Priority two should be getting her family secure and preparing Carol in particular for what’s about to go down. Because as deeply selfish as Marie has been to keep lying to her daughter for all these years, surely Marie is more invested in saving her children’s lives than she is in preserving this fiction she’s created.

Well… maybe not. Jury’s still out.

Because rather than doing any of those things, Marie seemingly doesn’t know what to do except freak out and continue to lie when questioned about the beacon.

Carol isn’t much better. She couldn’t see the beacon for the OBVIOUS ALIEN DEVICE that it is before, and even now as it’s beeping at a volume/frequency that is near-deafening to her and her mother and yet completely inaudible to everybody else in town, she still thinks it’s nothing more than a busted old TV remote.

No, the extent of Carol’s deductive reasoning is, ‘THING MAKE MOM SAD. THING BAD. THING GO AWAY NOW.’

Carol: [snatching the beacon] Here— Let’s just get rid of it! [hurls it into the bay several kilometres away]

So this is the point where Marie comes clean, right? She knows it’s only a matter of time before the Kree Khambermaid shows up at their door. She knows that even as they stand here, her children’s lives are in danger. She has to say something, if only to get them somewhere safe.

NOPE. SHE JUST FUCKS RIGHT OFF TO SULK AND TAKE HER FRUSTRATION OUT ON THE DISHES.

JJ asks what upset Marie, and Carol is a shitty liar.

“…nothing. Some broken remote I found in a box of old… um… just some stuff in your closet.”

Again, ZERO curiosity about this ultra-suspicious beeping that only she and her mother could hear.

JJ reveals that he knew about the letters, which kind of stands to reason — the box was in his wardrobe, and it was stored in a very visible, easily accessible spot. (Carol, of course, is taken completely by surprise.)

He adds that, after reading them, he recalled kind of a weird childhood memory.

It was during the summer; the three kids were spending the day on the boat with their uncle while their mother was out of town. They stopped briefly at shore to pick up some more bait, only to see their father canoodling with a mysterious blonde.

Steven: Hey— is that Pops?! What’s he doin’ all the way up there…? JJ: And who’s he doin’ it to?! Steven: Uh… I’ll tell ya when you’re my age. Beans, don’t look! Carol: Huh? [Joe and Marie start to levitate off the ground]

Things that are stupid about this:

Marie is a deserter from the Kree military. If the Kree Empire were alerted to her presence on Earth, they would send somebody to kill her and take her daughter away. Donning fancy alien clothes and flaunting her superpowers in full view of the harbour is idiotically reckless and endangers her entire family.

AN ALIEN HAS JUST LIFTED UP THEIR FATHER AND LEVITATED WITH HIM AND ALL THE KIDS CAN FOCUS ON IS THE FACT THAT THEY’RE KISSING AT THE SAME TIME.

AND LIKE. NOBODY EVER DISCUSSED THIS. JUST LIKE NOBODY EVER DISCUSSED THE FACT THAT THEIR SISTER COULD OUTRUN A FREIGHT TRAIN WITHOUT BREAKING A SWEAT. WHAT IS WRONG WITH THIS FAMILY.

oh and can we talk about the fact that Carol saw this. Carol, who dreams of visiting the stars. CAROL, whose childhood bedroom is wallpapered with NASA and Star Wars posters. C A R O L, who has craved flight since before she could walk.

CAROL SUSAN JANE DANVERS SAW A MYSTERIOUS ALIEN WOMAN FLYING WITH HER DAD AND THEN IMMEDIATELY FORGOT ABOUT IT ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME.

Also, though it’s less important, the dialogue has gone askew here. Steven’s “I’ll tell ya when you’re my age” is clearly meant to brush off a question about the canoodling. But it was Steven who asked about the canoodling — the question from JJ that he’s responding to is ‘who’s the lady?’, which of course neither of the brothers knows.

So the exchange should either read,

JJ: Hey— is that Pops?! What’s he doin’ all the way up there…? And what’s she doin’ to him?! Steven: Uh… I’ll tell ya when you’re my age.

Or,

Steven: Hey— is that Pops?! Who’s the lady? JJ: And what’s she doin’ to him?! Steven: Uh… I’ll tell ya when you’re my age.

But also, it shouldn’t be either of those things, because what they really ought to be talking about is OMFG THOSE PEOPLE ARE FLYING.

“And I was right there? I— I really must have buried that memory.”

Really? We’re gonna do suppressed memories, now? That’s where you wanna go with this?

I mean, it’s possible it could have slipped her mind somewhere in between the two complete memory wipes she’s suffered over the course of her superhero career, but short of that, there is no earthly reason why Carol would not recall seeing an actual alien hovering in front of her face.

Carol goes to talk to Marie about the histrionics in the garage and they take a walk down to the pier together.

Carol: So… what was that device in Pops’ stuff? I tried to open it but couldn’t make heads or tails of the thing. Marie: Carol, it’s not just… that thing you found. It’s time I told you the truth… though I promised your father I never would.

Really, Carol? That’s the question you want to ask? Not ‘why was Dad canoodling with aliens?’ Not ‘why did Dad have an extraterrestrial device among his possessions?’ Not ‘how come you and I are the only ones who heard that thing?’

So, a few things happen at this point.

Having decided that with lives on the line, she can no longer avoid telling Carol the truth, Marie… continues to avoid telling the truth, procrastinating by talking vaguely around her relationship with Joe and her decision to keep the family together. Can’t take it too quickly, or she might actually reveal something of value before the Janitor arrives to kill them all.

But Room Service is taking its time, and Marie is running out of steam. If something doesn’t happen soon, she and her daughter might be forced to have a necessary and productive conversation!

It’s all on Carol now. Only she can save us from a devastating outbreak of basic competence!

Marie: Carol? Carol: [wheeze] I can’t— [wheeze] Marie: What is it? Are you okay? Carol: [swoons] Marie: Carol! Carol: [HYPERVENTILATES HER WAY FACE FIRST INTO A GODDAMN LAKE]

Okay, but who in the hell read this script and saw this artwork and didn’t think that everybody involved with this comic was about to make massive fools of themselves?

Wait, never mind, I just googled it, and the editor on this book is the same person who edited America. That... absolutely checks out.

There’s a page of Carol sinking dramatically through the water, unable to get her body to move, before Marie dives to her rescue. They both collapse on the dock, exhausted, just in time for the beeping to begin again.

In town, all hell is breaking loose. Turns out Carol’s ‘out of sight, out of mind’ approach to the Kree beacon? Not a great plan. After being flung into the bay, the device wound up being scooped up in a fishing net and brought right back into town, which is where Tide Pod’s drone has located it. The drones are now exploding everything in sight.

Louis tries to slow it down by hurling some sick burns: “Hey you! Sir Splodesalot! … Hey! Baby Death Star Head!”

Carol arrives on the scene and asks if anybody is hurt, and Louis immediately starts whining that she didn’t show up sooner.

Carol: Louis! Everyone okay?! Louis: What’s the use of this place being the “summer home to a super hero” if you’re not gonna come when we’re being [attacked?]

He’s skating very close to having an actual point, because this entire situation is Marie and Carol’s fault. However, this is also the dude who, mere hours ago, lost his shit when Carol prioritised saving lives over a make-out session. You don’t get to demand she ignore a distress call one minute and then complain that she didn’t respond fast enough the next.

Also, you’re the ones who slapped Captain Marvel’s brand on your town and your donuts, not her. You fuckers are lucky the Avengers haven’t come after you for trademark infringement.

A cloud of drones descends on Main Street. They immediately go for Carol, so she takes to the sky with the plan of luring them away and exploding them high above the town.

But first, a quick detour to needlessly endanger her family and tackle her mother to the ground.

After destroying the drones, Carol returns in time for Clorox to arrive and—

what the hell man, why did you decide to nude up for this?!

And finally, the reveal we’ve all been dreading.

Marie/Mari-Ell: …she’s here for me. Carol: Ma?!?!

(Small detail, but dudes, let your letterer do their job. They’re not just your friggin typist. You want to emphasise Carol’s shocked exclamation, the letterer can do that by playing with fonts, sizing, colour and speech bubbles. You don’t need to vomit out interrobangs like a seven-year-old who’s just discovered punctuation.)

anyway yes this book is a nightmare.

#comics talk #the days of our lives of captain marvel

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alterlifes-a · 6 years

Text

tag muns you want to know better; repost - don’t reblog.

What inspired you to try/create that muse/s: well , if you’ve been with me long enough then you know that tooru started out as an AU ! o.ikawa t.ooru, where instead of attending s.eijou , he went to s.hiratorizawa ! to be honest , i kind of just wanted to try my hand at writing that kind of thing ? it was the very first time i had made a tumblr rp blog , so i had no idea that people rp different verses of the same character on one blog !! i originally rp’d on deviantart , and it was very commonplace to have different blogs for different verses ... i had over 70 rp blogs on there and most of them were literally the same 2 characters but in different AUs LMAO ... so imagine my surprise when i saw people rp’ing different AUs on one blog ... RP’ing multiple muses on one blog ... !! but i kinda just stayed with my iteration instead of playing canon ! kawa anyway , since i didn’t really see the point in starting over . as tooru developed more , though , i began to use him as a venting tool because this was a part of my life where i was really depressed . but as time grew on and i eventually made him into an OC , he became a much happier character . he really is my best friend ; he’s been there for me through it all , and even though he’s just fictional , i really owe him a lot for helping me out during rough times .

What is inspiration for that muse/s: well , currently , a lot of things ... lots of music , japanese culture + religion , and also my own experiences . in general , i have a p.interest board for him , so ... maybe you could say i draw inspiration from that , too ! i also rly enjoy the band MILI . their songs really fit tooru , like ‘ bathtub mermaid ’ . i’ve also been listening to hello , again and am planning on drawing something based on it for him ( + the song’s prequel , “ goodbye ” ) . i mainly tend to daydream while listening to songs , so ... yeah . as for characters who serve as inspiration for tooru ... well , i think that’s an artist meme , so i might just fill it in in lieu of answering this properly lol ... but two i can think of off the top of my head are leon from f.ire e.mblem e.choes and n.eferpitou from h.xh !

Thread/AU that made you really happy: B.NHA AU ... !! i’m hyperfixating sm on that one ... idk , a lot of planning and plotting goes into it , esp since a lot of my mutuals are in the fandom . in particular , i love love love the story i’ve created with @noquirk . i literally cannot envision a more perfect plot for tooru in this verse . heck , it’s literally my main go - to timeline when i draw / write for it . tooru is , quite literally , not very much in this AU without deck .

Something really special on your wishlist: sh ... more ships ... ships to draw and animate and make animatics to ... also i need to get my butt into gear and finish my JRPG AU group lol .

Something you are looking for in short future for your muse: blease tooru help me get thru the school year ... also i have some animatics in the back burner so i’m looking forward to getting those done !

Share something related to your muse!: his canon story , in parallel motion , deals with existentialism and alternate universes . ultimately , it’s a story that serves as a physical manifestation of my own struggle with depression , and while it’s sombre in tone , i want it to tell whoever’s reading it , “ you matter . ” it’s why tooru is placed into so many marginalized groups ; he’s fat and trans and biracial and bi and suffers from bpd + depression + anxiety but he’s a good person through it all ... his story is tragic because he’s not allowed to exist and will be forgotten when he dies , but his existence impacts so many other characters’ lives ... it’s a butterfly effect kind of thing . because you exist , you’ve made so many peoples’ lives better . and i understand it’s rough and i understand depression + sucky real life aspects try to convince you otherwise , but just ... think about it . there’s an alternate universe where , because you don’t exist , something huge was probably impacted . and even on a smaller , more intimate scale --- if you hadn’t existed in another life , then one of your friends might not be here . they might not be as happy as they are now , because you make them happy . life can be awful . but it’s wonderful and beautiful , too . that’s what i want tooru to be to others . someone to look up to and relate to , and someone who tells you , “ it’s okay ! ”

What do you think about character’s design/how do you came up with this: he’s ... kinda generic LOL mainly cause he’s based off of o.ikawa looks - wise due to his origin ... but part of his looks also derivate from an old ask blog muse i had :

i just really like that bangs - over - one - eye hairstyle ngl ... also i have no idea how / when his hair became maroon - brown since o.ikawa’s hair is chestnut brown , but ... yeah . also have no idea when he gained red eyes HDKJSFS,,,, i find fangs appealing on a character though , so that’s why he has fangs and does the :3c ... honestly i think i kinda just slapped together what i like in a design and put it on him , so even though he may look like an NPC ( lol ) , he’s still appealing in my eyes .

What your muse taught you: how to love being alive ... ( i’ve actually written an essay for a class about how he’s helped me through depression haha ... he means a lot to me , can you tell ? )

What is roleplay for you: all of you are awful and yet here i am anyway so really this says more about me than anything else .

Just say something nice about other mun!: @onfaith you are my ANGEL you mean sm to me and i wish u all the best with your studies / @tikkvn i love u sm cass ur an amazing person n a wonderful existence never forget that / @juuheart notay is my fave bleach chara also ur art is so cute / @wuvlite if i die all my money goes to u so u can keep drawing holy SHIZ ur art is #inspiration / @queznak ur very interesting and charismatic as a person !!! / @uzvisen idk how to spell ur url this took me 3 tries but also ilysm / @conhnhaketon i also cant spell ur url but i hope ur doing well n ur eid was good , ik we’ve both been busy but i would live for u / @quirkthief ur one of my fave ppl i will forever tag u in shibes also i’ve supported u in u saying afo was hot even when he looked ugly n now i get to watch everyone who made fun of u writhe bc he is rly rly hot hahaha / @noquirk you’re so talented pls never stop what ur doing / @aerve you’re rly cool !!! 100% support u in everything u do ! >:0 / @starbooms aries ur so creative ugh ... ur mind !!!!!! ik we don’t talk much but ur v fun / @bendsair i forget what other blogs ur on but chris ur the coolest #TalkRomania2Me / @creatied we don’t talk much either but ur graphics r so aesthetically appealing wowzers !! / @daimnas i’m wuv you amari !! also my french sucks but uhhh comment ca va ( i’m too lazy to find the accented ‘c’ dsfhi ) ?? / @soarsun i’ve only known u for a few weeks but if anything happened to u i would kill everyone on this website n then myself / @quirkgifter nanners is the coolest n nana is the best grandma in town / @natsutodoroki im so jealous u got a canon url as ur rp url LMAO but also ur rly cool n fun even tho we dont talk too frequently ! / @lechors LINNEA I WILL DIE FOR U RIGHT HERE RIGHT N--- / @ YOU READING THIS BC I’M ABOUT TO FALL ASLEEP : YOU’RE AWESOME AND GREAT !

Tagged by: stole it from @queznak Tagging: whomstever

#no formatting im heading 2 bed bye bye shkfjs #long post /#long post #meme .#what’s up —– i’m ru ‚ i’m 19 ‚ and i never h*ckin’ learned how to read . / ooc.

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