#i literally based my fashion sense around her for like a year and a half
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PROPAGANDA
ALEX DEWITT (DC COMICS)
1.) The term “fridging” is literally based on Alex and what happened to her. She was killed off violently by a bad guy trying to get at her boyfriend only a couple issues after she was introduced (making it obvious they only brought her in to kill her off for shock value). Her death did very little to the narrative other than hurt her boyfriend Kyle and was done in an exceedingly horrifying and violent way. (Bad guy came to the door with flowers and threatening note, broke in and attacked her, choking her to death, before [off panel] chopping her body up and sticking it in the refrigerator as a “surprise” for her boyfriend. This obviously is really fucked up and she deserves better and should win this actually (a vote for Alex is a vote for all fridging victims [in spirit])
2.) It doesn’t get much worse than being the character whose death originated the “fridging” trope. In Green Lantern Vol. 3 #54, Kyle Rayner comes home to find that Alexandra, his girlfriend, has been killed by the villain Major Force and stuffed into the refrigerator.
Alexandra DeWitt is the character whose misogynistic treatment coined the term where a character, usually female, is killed off purely to make the main character, usually male, feel bad. Even if there are other characters who have been subjected to similar levels of misogyny, Alexandra DeWitt’s treatment has been essentially immortalized.
3.) I know she’s not going to win but shout out to my home girl, literally the trope namer for women shoved in fridges. All anyone ever knows about her is that she was Kyle’s girlfriend and got murdered for his character development, even though she had plenty of potential to be her own character.
MARINETTE DUPAIN-CHENG (MIRACULOUS LADYBUG) (CW: Racism)
1.) First, her creator has it as a hard Canon rule that every single episode she has to be wrong about something, even if it doesn’t make sense for her to be. She got to be with a boy who liked who she was and not the fact that she was a hero, who is much better suited for her as a partner than the one she is constantly shoved with. Her superhero partner constantly pushes past her romantic boundaries and is actively encouraged by everyone else in canon around him, even when she states multiple times that she doesn’t want to date him and they are not a couple. He’s always trying to take away from the fight, and several times when he is turned down he will take it out on her. The creator of the show describes him as flawless. Her suits are awful, they’re literally just decorative spandex on her body, giving her no structure or support.
2.) victim of both the crew’s misogyny and racism the show literally cannot be normal about her i submitted her to the character massacre poll so im gonna repeat some of the stuff i said from there shes a 14 year old girl n a rule of the show’s bible is that marinette must always be the one to learn a lesson so shes always wrong according to the narrative even when she actually isnt in the wrong one of her main character traits is that she has a crush on adrien and cause shes a teenage girl shes of course portrayed as obsessive and stalkerish for… having pictures of her fashion model crush in her room n knowing his schedule even though hes super busy n it would be reasonable for her to keep track of his schedule so she n his other friends could actually hang out with him despite being half chinese and (from what i remember) her mom being a first generation immigrant she has no actual connection to it for all intents and purposes her being half chinese is almost irrelevant for her character unless the show feels like being weird about it such as having her white crush be more knowledgeable about chinese culture than her n her parents being based off of the creator and an ex girlfriend of his (his tweet about that is still up btw) which leads into the next thing of marinette is weirdly sexualized by the show she has the most blatantly body paint suit of the girls (cause all of them have body suits seriously pretty much all of the women n girls in this show could be submitted which is bad considering its a girl power show for kids) the camera frequently frames itself on the lower half of her body in one of the comics after she detransforms shes left naked (an issue entirely invented for this comic) and has to wear a box as clothes n there was a scandal about a member of the crew drawing her naked which the show’s creator defended (remember this guy said marinette was like his virtual child) shes not winning in her love life either so both marinette and adrien are superheroes with secrect identities n neither of them know who the other person is under the mask marinette likes adrien who is chat noir’s civilian identity and adrien likes ladybug who is marinette’s superhero identity hes not into marinette n marinette’s not into chat noir however chat noir constantly flirts with ladybug (usually instead of actually helping her) ignores her rejections of his romantic advances n throws a hissy fit whenever she doesnt priortize him (such as not helping her defeat the baddie thats frozen all of paris cause last night she didnt show up for a date he set up when she told him she couldnt go on a date cause she already had plans with friends threatening to quit when most of paris was underwater due to a different villain cause marinette got trusted with an important secret n he didnt and attempting to use cataclysm (his ability to destory anything) on marinette’s best friend when marinette had her use the ladybug miraculous in her stead) while her own pursuit of adrien only ever ends in her own humiliation cause the crew just thinks its so funny for a teenage girl to get repeatedly humiliated for the crime of wanting to ask her crush out n then yank her back when she tries to move on with a guy who openly has a crush on her respects her n is very supportive of her which is something they literally wrote her to do n pressured by pretty much everyone to ask out adrien (as a civilian) n date chat noir (as a hero) cause the show doesnt know how to properly develop a romance for their main couple beyond having everyone say theyre meant to be and then also this is more of like the show’s general misogyny and double standards but when girls crush on the same guy theyre all catty bitches to eachother (n then also two of them are irredeemably evil cause the show hates teenage girls n thinks the show’s main villain (who only isnt a child abuser if you dont considering neglect n emotional abuse real abuse) is more redeemable than two cartoony mean teen girls) while guys crushing on the same girl are chill n buddies with eachother
3.) We’ve seen time and time again she’s capable and smart and creative and can really do anything she puts her mind to-but canon forces her to fall for a guy after he halfass apologizes (never actually says sorry and lies about never having friends when in the same episode he keeps saying he’s this persons friend) about a misunderstanding because ooh white boy go hard I guess and thus for multiple seasons have her go stupid around and simply because of this boy. This same boy but now hero form she’s doesn’t know, gets to trying and flirt with her over and over even after she tells him very nicely that she doesn’t like him like that, thought they were just bantering, and that she likes someone else. The narrative punishes her when she does anything that the boy doesn’t like, either by him not helping her as a hero in fights or scolding her in both forms. Additionally, her character is through the ringer when ever it comes to him because “she’s boy crazy” like teaming up with her bully to ruin this girls dress because she is attending an event with him- which goes way off base for her character- and this happens only whenever he’s involved. They have her be weird around him like sniffed his pillow once and took a hair from what she thought was a statue of him and also have her never function normally around him-which fine that can be true to life cause she’s 13-but when she falls for this other boy who makes her relaxed and helps her to be who she is happily-the narrative pulls a 180 once they date showing she can’t forget about the first boy and putting her pictures she took of the first boy back in her room when they were previously removed. Last thing because I think this is getting way too long sorry, but they sexualize the hell out of the female hero: from their poses and shots focusing on their chest, butts, or movements of them, but also the male heros costumes are way more intricate and detailed where as the main character for three plus seasons only had a red bodysuit with black neck and black spots while the male hero had a black suit detailed with a golden bell, leather belt as a tail, black ears, green cat eyes, and more. I just can’t with this show doing girls dirty and then claiming “girl power”
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thank you for answering my ask!! i was unsure whether to send because sharing concepts is a subjective, often personal thing, so thank you for being so receptive and kind!
yeah i definitely think making things dark for the sake of just being dark is overdone and unnecessary (cue Riverdale), but that if it touches on an undercurrent that already exists in a storyline or character trait then it could be worth exploring.
i always felt chase got away with way too much in regards to him harboring such a crush & at times obsession, with zoey, because as his behavior continued, it was like the whole friend group and PCA campus was aware except for her. it didn’t seem considerate or respectful to her, and obviously this was because Nickelodeon writers notoriously disregard female characters and the depth/range they can bring if given the chance, but i still would like there to be a certain consequence to chase parading around with his emotions about a girl who may have her own desires and thoughts on the matter, too. zoey didn’t know at all that he was going to such great lengths to be her best friend, paired with her, know her secrets, or just how she may feel in a romantic sense about him.
my idea is definitely grittier and sexier than the typical scenarios between chase and zoey, but i think it weaves together the objectification of women and girls in that dicey time of the early aughts, where things like this may’ve happened more frequently and the gossip would be quite juicy. if anyone could tap into that version, it’s you! you’ve got a great sense of reality, infused with just the right amount of dreamy, for the setting of each story you’ve created. this is merely a suggestion and it’s been so great getting to hear your thoughts on this! thank you
Thank you for the kind words and for sharing your concept with me - it can definitely be daunting! I'm always really happy to discuss different ideas and interpretations.
On that note, I apologise for how long this reply is.
I do actually fundamentally disagree with your reading on Chase's character and how he fits into the wider context of mid-2000s and wider Nickelodeon/Dan shows as a whole. Yes, Dan & co are absolutely not interested in Zoey's feelings, which is the main flaw of the show and is based both in misogyny and the fact that Jamie Lynn cannot act. Chase is, functionally, the main character which is why you are supposed to root for him and places Zoey in a kind of old-fashioned love interest role where you literally don't know her feelings until her big confession of love (or a very half-hearted "I love you too" in Trading Places and kiss in Chasing Zoey). Think a Jane Austen character like Mr Knightley or Captain Wentworth, or really any repressed English male, but in a shitty Nickelodeon show with dreadful fashion and an (un)healthy sprinkling of sexism.
That said, disinterest can still be disrespectful and it doesn't change that Chase is the problem here. I make it no secret that Chase is my favourite character and I'm biased, but specifically I like S3 Chase. In some ways that's when he's at his worst; certainly it's when he's most emotional because he's allowed to be angry at Zoey instead of just bearing the brunt of hers, but he's also just meaner to everyone. Plus he's older and he should know better (though if anyone genuinely believes that I think they should meet a sixteen-year-old). But it's the shift from S1 to S3 that I find so interesting. So to me a lot of your characterisation of Chase reads as him in S1, where he is much more of a baby Ross Geller type (or it reads as his character in that absolutely garbage 2015 short that I will not speak the name of and IS NOT CANON).
Saying that, even in the worst episodes (The Play, School Dance) Chase's actions aren't framed as being inherently good or acceptable, he is punished for them within the episodes: he gets sick and he pisses Zoey off and has to apologise. I want to emphasis this because contextually this is when The Notebook and yes, Friends, are having grown men unapologetically pull worse stunts and also because Dan's others shows also stop having this kind of moral framing after Season 1-2 of iCarly. Then you get to S2 and you have the (once again, not good) Time Capsule episode and Chase gets to keep his status as a "good" character because he does not go through with invading Zoey's privacy by watching her DVD, and by Spring Break-Up he doesn't even want to tell Zoey about his feelings. "Friendzoning" always comes up with this show and by now we should all know the sexist connotations of that word, but Chase is not put into the friendzone, he friendzones himself. Michael says "what if Zoey loves you back, then you'll be happy Chase forever," and Chase says, "it's not worth the risk," and then you write a 21,000 word fanfic about how Chase is never going to be happy because he has perpetual depression. The point is that, except for maybe the first few episodes of S1 (and it's explicitly encouraged by Logan in New Roomies), he thinks being best friends is enough.
I find it really interesting that you described him as "parading around with his emotions" because I tend to characterise him as being utterly mortified by said emotions. From memory, the above conversation in SBU starts by Michael doing the "people on Mars know you love Zoey" joke and Chase says he doesn't want everyone to know. I touched on it a bit in my aborted S4 AU but to me the public intrigue of their romance would have been a real challenge for both of them, and if you look at all their 'moments' all of them are private, compared to Quinn/Logan where their arc culminates in a public display of affection.
Again, you get to S3 and he actually is more unreadable - not completely, just less of an open book because his emotions aren't explicitly stated all the time. I think Dan thought he had actually written Chase a season-long arc (I'm not calling it that) because he starts off the season saying that he thinks the universe only wants him and Zoey to be friends (Chase's Girlfriend, also where he seems embarrassed by sending the text message in SBU), tries to publicly deny that he ever had a crush on her (Zoey's Tutor, where from his perspective ONLY Michael should know that he did because he never discussed it with Lola or Quinn), only gets minorly jealous (mainly Son of a Dean but even in episodes like Zoey's Tutor and Quarantine it's either played as being 'overprotective' or dropped relatively quickly), and actually pursues other girls, i.e. Rebecca and the girl he tries to flirt with in Favour Chain. This all then "culminates" into him actually coming to terms with and admitting that he's still in love with Zoey in Goodbye Zoey instead of denying it or ignoring it (and there's a whole thing here about how S3 is arguably when he actually is in love with her, because he's really started to see her as a person with flaws and not just a girl on a pedestal or an object of desire and lol). Even if you don't think that you still only really get glimpses of old Chase, rather than entire episodes dedicated to it (e.g. Chase and his desire to know Zoey's secret is not the villain in Zoey's Balloon, where it probably would have been in S1).
So where does this leave us other than with confirmation that I am certifiably insane? Well, this is fanfiction so still with me being insane, because as you can tell I have thought about this critique a lot. In my head, it is something Chase himself would have to reconcile with. I don't know if you've read if there's anyone in the sun (and fair enough if not because it's long and potentially triggering and lots of other things), but a lot of that is specifically about Chase still beating himself up for what he did as a shitty, hormonal, hyper-emotional (and, in my version) a clinically depressed teenager:
Chase starts to ask for her forgiveness. He tells her about trying to sabotage Logan so he wouldn’t kiss her during the play, about digging up the time capsule, why he stole her TekMate, how he thought about not coming back from England, that he’s sorry for his reaction when she kissed him. And Zoey doesn’t know all of it, can hardly even believe some of it
Zoey forgives him but she's also had the distance of a decade, so it could be interesting to to delve a bit deeper into her reactions like we saw in School Dance, The Election, SBU etc. It might not be something like objectification though, just because I always liked how Chase didn't really objectify her (with some exceptions). In general I think it's something that anything featuring the characters as grown-ups should, at least in the sense of showing that your characters have actually changed since they were fifteen, so naturally I have zero faith that the upcoming movie thing will do any of that.
#hope this doesn't come off as rude because i enjoyed getting to discuss it!#thanks for the ask again
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hi how do you come up with outfits for your mcd character designs and do you have any tips and tricks when comes to creating outfit?
hii ! i'm gonna be so real i am mostly going off of sheer vibes and not any kind of like. ruleset/knowledge but i do have some slight things that've helped me improve with outfit designs! this year i've been really determined to try and improve my art and a big part of that was clothing design so here's some stuff i thought about in that process:
layers!!! so many layers. especially with the climate some of my characters live in its important to think about what's going on underneath what's visible. i often start with things like under-clothes, tights/stockings, and build slowly over the top, layer by layer. it helps to visualise how you'd build the outfit as if you yourself are getting dressed ! this also helped me huuugely with armour, visualising what's going on underneath the actual plates of armour.
when you're researching inspo for designs it can also be helpful to try and visualise that process for the images you find too. what goes on first? what layers went on last? how would you replicate that in a drawing? it makes using refs a lot less complex for me at least because like. some of these outfits look complicated and busy and overwhelming at first glance. like okay there's a dark long-sleeve under that. and then this blouse, then skirt, then a corset, then this long cloak, then the jewels and clasps etc etc.
i don't usually claim to draw every mcd character outfit with a specific like. period of historical fashion in mind but i most regularly look up a very generic search of "medieval clothing/styles" to get a gauge of the Features and Styles i'm most drawn to. to me half of the fun is getting creative, not going for accuracy here. me, personally, i love big scarves, cloaks, long skirts / pants and corsets and include those in my character designs a LOT. pop a ref in your subview or whatever your program has and try and like. pick out your favourite elements of the fit. at first i was like. copying a lot of outfits exactly but like with time i've come to be able to pick and choose my favourite parts and mix match them together.
(a side note that pinterest is FLOODED with bullshit ai art , and other than the fact that it's disheartening and annoying also consider that those generators don't make *great* 1:1 outfit references because they have no sense of folds or how clothing actually like. Works. it blends pieces together and makes folds look uncanny so it's not really great to even look at to base an outfit on). so i find the most helpful clothing references to be on irl models / film and tv characters + even video games ..
i used to find that my character outfits were looking noticeably Plain, flat and boring because there was a lot of empty space. things like new textures like ruffles and folds can help with that, or quite literally just adding on more layers. belts, loops and clasps and jewelry... accessories/decorations are my best friend to make an outfit look more full and busy. my obsession is like. threads/loops with beads , coats / big scarves, satchels/bags, remembering what a character would need to carry around every day or what accessories they would have. etc sasha might carry around potions / supplies. the guards will need a place for their swords. i also like to note practicality for what a character is going to be getting up to and their contexts, and i often design or imagine 2 core outfits at least in my mind - a casual outfit and a 'going out' outfit. especially helpful for the guards because i am NOT drawing armour every time sorry boys. katelyn has a training/casual outfit and her more formal jo9 fits.
honestly. with full transparency. Me and my closet. idk if my friends would agree but i'd like to think i have a decent sense of style that translates well to what i like to see my characters wear. even so . surprisingly, just taking a delve into my closet and picking out my favourite clothes helped hugely with thinking about character fits . for mystreet definitely considering its way more modern but actually also for mcd, since some of my clothes translate well. so there's that.
again these are things that helped me a little so idk if they would help anyone else but that's what i did when i started locking in to try and get better at my character design . and now i love drawing clothes so here's hoping . thankies baii <3 <3
#bee's buzzing#i hope this was coherent anon i'm seriously just making shit up as i go along when it comes to character design
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WE <3 SLOW FASHION
The fashion industry is one of the most harmful impacts on our environment from child labour, cheap exports and viscous trend cycles. These issues can be connected to the high demand of new designs from consumers that more and more collections are released each year. Around 20 years ago, the fashion industry would only turn out two collections a year, for autumn/winter and summer/spring, but now to keep up with the ever changing trends, release 50-100 mini collections per year (Domingos, Vale &Faria 2022).
In contrast to the harmful impacts of fast fashion, slow fashion has been introduced to mitigate some of these harmful processes. The slow fashion movement represents the need to invest in more durable products and timeless designs in order to transform the values of the fashion industry and adopt more sustainable methods. The movement pushes companies to adopt a business model that prioritises quality over quantity and based on slower manufacturing, ethical attitudes and durable well-made products (Domingos, Vale & Faria 2022). By providing workers with safe and just working conditions, including fair wages, manufacturers can also improve economic aspects of the process (Zhen et al. 2017, p. 83).
The slow fashion movement relates to digital citizenship, with the idea of respecting each other in online spaces and acting responsibility relates to the movement's respect for sweat shop workers and the concept of sustainability. There are a number of influencers that rave about sustainable fashion and educate viewers about things such as finding local brands and how to get involved in fashion and environmental activism. Venetia Le Manna is a "former fast fashion addict turned fair fashion campaigner" who uses her digital platform to call out big companies for over-production and exploitation of their workers. Being a good corporate citizen can be achieved by committing to sustainable fashion, but it can also be extended to being a good digital citizen by acting responsibly online when deciding where your next clothing purchase will be. Once upon a time you were only able to buy second hand clothing if you scoured all your local op shops for hours but nowadays, apps like Depop and Poshmark are available to almost everyone. Facebook Marketplace and Instagram reselling pages are also accessible for branded garments.
I personally buy almost all of my clothes second hand because I love a good bargain. Brands like Princess Polly or Cotton On have ridiculous prices for their basics that I can find at the op shop for half the price. I also don't really like searching through racks of clothing at the op shop because it can get overwhelming so I frequent a women's clothing market in Williamstown that's held every few months. I love that it has a wide range of sellers with different senses of style so I can find a lot of unique pieces for really good prices. Also buying a second hand item holds some sentimental value because I know it's from years or seasons ago, I'll never be able to find it again. I will keep some garments for literally forever if I can. I've had the same Supre black singlet I bought off of a Facebook group for 5+ years and it has not a single hole! And because my favourite clothing market is every few months it’s the only time I'll buy new clothes but sometimes I won't buy anything because nothing catches my eye. However, the last market I went to I found a brand new North Face jacket for $30! The seller just wanted to get rid of it because her daughter didn't want it even after they brought it home from overseas. Similarly, a lot of second hand sellers at markets or on Facebook just want to get rid of clothes that take up space, like the saying "one man's trash is another man's treasure".
References
Domingos, M, Teixeira Vale, V & Faria, S 2022, 'Slow fashion consumer behaviour: a literature review', Sustainability, vol. 14, no. 5
Zhen, L, Henninger, C.E & Alevizou, P.J 2017, 'An Explanation of Consumers' Perceptions Towards Sustainable Fashion - A Qualitative Study in the UK', Sustainability in Fashion A Cradle to Upcycle Approach, Palgrave
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DVHS Reread: Chapter III.II
"Couldn't have done it without Kazu's amazing lyrics." She puts an arm around Fujimoto's shoulders; I don't miss his blush. Miyuki was right about them. "We were going to do this a couple days ago, but we decided to wait until now." Make sense, given...everything. "We'll be here until seven, to give everyone some hope."
Have I mentioned how much I love these two? I definitely wish I developed them a bit more in terms of their music and friendship with the other characters. I actually think Fujimoto and Yoshida would’ve been good friends.
MONOKUMA THEATRE XI
This one is brought to you by my sister telling me not to panic over something because she wasn’t.
I'm one of the last to enter my dorm, watching everyone's backs. I need to protect everyone who's left. I don't know where the instinct came from, but I don't think I'll be able to stand losing someone else.
She’s starting to really grow into the traditional protag role :)
I can rule out everyone who's already dead. There's no doubt they weren't the mastermind.
Iirc, I made a couple people suspicious of the dead with this line, haha, probably because of DR1.
Nakamura
Yes: dabbled in a little of everything (if that means anything), literal charmer
No: sweet and helpful
I love how half of the reasons for people not being the mastermind are that they’re too nice to pilot a killing game. Camila, might wanna get your head out of those specific clouds.
"My mom is strict, but she has good intentions. My dad…"
I blink at what appears to be a slip-up on her part. "Your dad?"
She says nothing, as if our conversation never happened at all. Okay. So much for that.
I think this is the first explicit mention of Saito’s dad, and the foreshadowing for next chapter.
Ikeda shakes his head. "No way. There's no rule that someone can't kill two people, you know? So one of the people in the group can easily kill the other two. If they didn't mind being a prime suspect, that is."
...I really had him bring up that rule. I surprise myself sometimes.
A flicker of movement catches my attention from my peripheral vision. "It's okay," Miyuki murmurs, sitting down on my bed next to me. My breath catches. "Read. I'll keep you safe."
This isn't real. I want it to be. It isn't.
And we have our first appearance of hallucination Miyuki! Which ngl by the end I couldn’t even fully tell if she was a hallucination or a ghost or what.
MONOKUMA THEATRE XII
Based on something from a scrapped Team Rocket fic of mine and also me acknowledging that I don’t have Monokuma as involved as he is in canon.
At the back of the room is a rack of magazines, the latest of which is dated about a month ago. I flip through it; I never got into magazines much, but this simply shows some fashion and a couple of quizzes. Nothing really eye-catching, not to me at least. I look at the other magazines before doing a double-take. Even though some of these are recent, there's a fairly large gap between when the most recent ones and the older ones. It's at least a year for some of these, longer for others. Probably the subscriptions were messed with or something.
I think some of the magazines were more recent, given the improved state of the world, while others were there from DR1. It’s also supposed to be a clue as to the improved state, since the magazines were all older issues in DR1.
I glance at the clock before switching to the second classroom, shutting the door behind me. We've only got about an hour until we meet up again; I've been pretty thorough. I think I hear footsteps behind me when I open the second classroom's door. I freeze in the doorframe, trying to crane my neck to see the stairs. "Hello?"
Nobody answers.
I must've imagined it.
Just as before, everything is the same in this classroom, this time even the wallpaper. That only seems to change by floor, just like the colorful lighting in the hallway. "It's weird that there's nothing in here," Miyuki says, leaning on a desk. "Shouldn't there be clues?"
This is what would’ve been Ikeda killing Camila if she hadn’t spoken to hallucination Miyuki. Fun, right?
There are bathrooms right below us, so I decide on my way down that I can either waste time looking for Ikeda or brave the boys' bathroom on my own. I glance around; it's not like there's anyone who's going to barge in, so I push it open and waltz right in. "Fujimoto? Are you in here?" No response. Trying not to appear creepy, I crouch down. There aren't any shoes under the stalls. Nobody's in here, but I check the supply closet for good measure. Naturally, there's nothing but cleaning supplies in there.
Iirc I went out of my way for the supply closet because that was the one with the secret room in DR1. Or maybe that was on a different floor? I don’t remember now.
I know that feeling all too well. And, just as before, Monokuma shows up and ruins everything more than it already has been. "Aw, I was just starting to like her, too! Poor Juliet, torn apart from her Romeo." He lowers his head for approximately two seconds before popping right back up, seeming to look me right in the eye. "Well, love and loss do go hand in hand!" Ouch.
Monokuma actually is a really funny character for me to write sometimes, because I can make remarks like this.
"The victim is Hamasaki Utako, Super High-School Level Guitarist," Abe reads from his file, leaving the others on the floor. "The cause of death is strangulation…" He trails off, turning the file over. Mixed emotions dance in his eyes as they skip over the page.
...Why was that his reaction? I legitimately don’t remember?? Maybe it’ll come to me by the end of the chapter.
(Coming back from finishing the chapter. I really have no clue. Maybe it was just that there wasn’t any other information in the file?)
He hesitates for a second before I leave. "Ishikawa, I'm glad you're taking charge. I was so worried when Ueda died, but you're really stepping up. I feel a lot safer because of that."
Have I mentioned before that I really like Yasu? He would’ve made a pretty good protag, too.
"Even though he's probably the one who killed her?" At my incredulous look, he continues, "You can't honestly tell me it didn't cross your mind. Why else would he run if not out of guilt?"
"Fear? Horror? That was my reaction at-" I swallow hard, finding myself unable to say her name. "-last time. Surely this is the same for him."
I don’t know exactly why other than the obvious reasons of Ikeda pushing the narrative, but I really like this small interaction.
Monokuma blinks a couple of times before his anger starts to show. "Oh, like hell he's-" He storms out of the room, which looks funny on his stubby little legs. On an impulse, I follow. Maybe I can convince him not to harm Fujimoto.
He pounds on Fujimoto's door before extracting a key from somewhere- frankly, I don't want to know where- and shoving it into the lock. He flings open the door and goes in guns-a-blazing, coming out a couple of seconds later with Fujimoto in tow.
This was originally when they were going to find Fujimoto- or Hamasaki, back when I had the death order between them switched. I much prefer how I actually wrote it out, I mean, who ever heard of a victim dying in the middle of a trial?
We all glance at each other. No more surprises. Hopefully we can manage that.
HA
#dvhs#dvhs reread#dvhs spoilers#camila ishikawa#utako hamasaki#hidekazu fujimoto#hamamoto#hamasaki x fujimoto#ikuo nakamura#kagami saito#miyuki ueda#kazuhiko ikeda#yasu kadoshima#fangan#danganronpa
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Suna Doğan Outfits
↳ 1.01
#benim tatlı yalanım#aslı bekiroğlu#suna doğan#turkishedit#btyedit#love how im going to be spending HOURS on these gifsets#for barely any notes in return#it feels right#anyway i've been rewatching benim tatli yalanim#and although im not enjoying it as much as i was the first time around#i still love suna soo much and i loved her outfits#i literally based my fashion sense around her for like a year and a half
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Drabble or oneshots request:
Bucky craving pumpkins with reader
I *think* this is supposed to say 'carving pumpkins' but if not let me know ;) Thanks for the request!
WC: 1k
A/N: No warnings except that it's a heaping mess of fluff.
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“Don’t look,” you whine, sounding like a 5-year-old as you hover your arms over your creation.
“I’m not! You’re the one trying to take a peak at mine, love,” Bucky retorts.
You scoff, feigning offense. “I literally don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Isn’t this supposed to be a fun, relaxing activity?” He asks with a face that is a mixture of loving and judgmental.
“It is! I’m having fun! I just want it to be a surprise.”
Bucky chuckles. “Alright then, love. Just let me know when you’re done.”
“You got it, Buck.” You wink before turning back to the half-carved pumpkin in front of you.
It’s a crisp October evening in upstate New York, your favorite weather. Dressed in one of Bucky’s comfiest flannels and a pair of leggings, you sit on the back deck of the Avenger’s Compound with your super soldier boyfriend, surrounded by the remains of two pumpkins you were currently working on.
He had -- in true Bucky fashion -- originally put up a stink about the idea of carving pumpkins. In the weeks leading up to October, you would list all of the Fall things you were excited to start doing. Apple picking, hay rides, corn mazes, but pumpkin carving was where Bucky drew the line.
“That’s a thing for kids, doll.”
“Do you really think I’m going to stick my metal arm in a gunk-invested vegetable? I’ll have guts stuck in there for years.”
“Can’t we buy pre-carved ones? Or just buy the seeds so we can roast them?”
But when the two of you walked through the Farmer’s Market, carrying a basket full of candles and apple cider donuts, he couldn’t turn away from the light in your eyes as they brightened with true unadulterated delight when you saw the pallet covered in orange gourds. And he knew he wasn’t going to be able to say no to the evil, vicious, adorable, stunning pouty face you gave him when you turned in his direction.
He didn’t say a word as he accepted his fate. Just walked over to the woman at the table, wallet in hand, and reached down to grab the two he thought looked best.
When he walked back, a pumpkin cradled in each arm, his grimace faded away at the sight of your luminous smile, filled with such joy that he couldn’t help but feel the tiniest bit of pride that he had done something to get you to smile like that.
Hell, he even felt a little bit excited to cut into these squishy basketballs when you stood on your tiptoes to lean in for a kiss to express your gratitude.
So now, here you both are, elbow-deep in pumpkin remains, the scent of apple-caramel radiating through the space from one of the candles you had bought earlier that day, a half-eaten bag of donuts, your favorite Fall playlist softly playing in the background, and saran wrap plastered over Bucky’s metal arm. Alpine was sitting on top of her cat tower in the corner of the deck, snuggling with the spider plush you had bought her at the market.
“Okay,” you say, sitting up straight with a face full of confidence, “I’m done.”
“Same. Let’s see what you got, love.” Bucky reached to his left arm to rip off the saran wrap.
You move your pumpkin into view to reveal a jack-o-lantern face, but instead of smiling, its mouth is turned down. You had even carved eyebrows that knit together in the corners.
Bucky narrows his eyes at you, pointing at your creation. “I thought those guys were supposed to be happy and shit.”
You give him a sly grin. “They are, but I based this one off of something else. I call it ‘Grumpy Buck.”
Bucky scowls and you cackle, lifting up your pumpkin and reaching forward to hold it by his face. “See! Isn’t this like looking in a mirror?”
He rolls his eyes, muttering, “Love you too, doll.”
Your grin widens. “Don’t worry, love, there’s more.” You spin the pumpkin 180 degrees to reveal a smiling jack-o-lantern on the other side. “I call this side, ‘Bucky Whenever He’s With His Favorite Person AKA Me.”
He barks out a laugh at the ridiculous title and smiles at you. “You really put in a lot of layers into this project.”
You wink at him. “What can I say? My man is complicated, but he’s the best guy around.”
His heart swells, and he leans forward to give you a chaste kiss. It tastes like apples and cinnamon and something else that is so uniquely Bucky and it brings the same butterflies to your stomach that you felt the first time he kissed you and have felt from every kiss since.
“I love it,” he whispers as he pulls away.
It takes you a moment to clear your head after the dizziness his kiss brought and you blink a few times before pointing at his pumpkin. “Alright, your turn. Let’s see what you got.”
Bucky’s face goes serious as he moves to turn his pumpkin your way. You gasp as soon as his carving comes into view.
“What the fuck?” You exclaim, looking at his creation.
Which looks like a fucking work of art.
It’s a carving of Alpine, perfectly sculpted and shaded that it looks like he traced over a photo of your feline friend instead of freehanding it.
He grins. “Not bad, hey?”
You scoff. “When the hell were you going to tell me that you were a freaking Michaelangelo of pumpkin carving?”
He shrugs, picking up his dagger that he used to carve, a smile still on his face. “Babe, I’m good with knives, remember?”
You frown, crossing your arms in front of you and narrowing your eyes at him. “I still think mine is better.”
He chuckles, then puts down the dagger and takes your face in his hands.
“Your pumpkin is amazing. Everything you do is amazing.” He kisses you again and your frown falls away. “Thank you for an amazing day and for putting up with my grumpy old man self.”
You smile, filled with a sense of awe that you get to share your life with the man in front of you.
“So does this mean that we’ve found a new Fall tradition and you’ll do this with me every year forever?”
Instead of the scowl of dread you were expecting, Bucky’s smile widens.
“If I can have forever with you? I’ll do whatever the hell you want, doll.”
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Tag List: @maladaptivexxdaydreaming @eclipses-and-moondust
#bucky x reader#bucky x you#bucky x y/n#james bucky barnes#bucky barnes#marvel#mcu#fanfic#fluff piece#bucky barnes x reader#reader fic#halloween#pumpkin#fall#october#drabble#bucky drabble#inbox#alpine#bucky oneshot
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Back to bother you BUT how about some nsfw and sfw hc’s for my little meow meow randy 👀👀 the tatum one was <33
HAHA OH YES. For you? I will always indulge in Randy stuff! NGL, he's not on my writing list but I had SO much fun with these, especially the SFW ones!
General Randy Headcanons:
SFW:
Randy is a huge Star Wars fan and goes to conventions. He doesn't cosplay, but he brings his camera and camcorder.
Speaking of which, Randy has a passion for photography. He loves taking pictures around campus, and will literally spend half an hour trying to get the perfect angle with the perfect lighting. People on campus just keep seeing this guy laying on his stomach, then, crouching, then standing then kneeling on a bench and when they come out of class this motherfucker is still doing it.
His favorite things to take pictures of are cool buildings or structures.
He's been in love with Sidney since they met in 6th grade. When he met Billy in 8th grade along with Sidney, he immediately didn't like him. But also he still hung out with Billy sometimes? It was weird, because they were so similar but so different at the same time.
They were basically frenemies. Up until mid junior year, when Billy got weirdly antagonistic towards him, even more so than usual.
He almost threw himself off the second story window when he heard that Billy and Sidney were dating now.
Like fuuuuck, when will the nerd win.
NGL, but it's the 90's. Randy definitely had a bit of some Nice Guy Syndrome lol. It wasnt like, too bad, and not to the extent of most guys, but he did find himself hetting a bit bitter when he, the nice nerd guy, didnt get the girl.
OKAY OKAY super hot take lol, but I see Randy as heterosexual. However, I also like Pan!Randy a lot.
OKAY I know I said it for Sidney, but I genuinely think Randy would also identify with being non-binary. Or at the very least, not minding any pronouns.
Randy does not smell, ever. Like he just doesn't have any BO. He has that gene that makes body odor non-existent. He always smells fresh or like nothing, even when he sweats.
Randy has a matching shoes and shirt combo for every color.
SO Randy's fashion sense actually comes from Tatum. Once he got to high school, Randy was looking forward to a new beginning - a new him! He wanted to to get rid of his glasses and start caring more about how he looked! SO he asked Tate for advice, and she helped him pick out a wardrobe the summer before Freshman year began.
Speaking of Tatum: her, Sidney, and Randy are the best of friends. He used to be embarrassed by having girls as his best friends, but he quickly got over that because those two are his ride or die.
He and Stu actually hung out a good amount alone. I base this on their banter and how casually they interacted at the video store in the movie. It just seems like they were genuine friends. Maybe not super close, but generally liked one another.
Honestly, Stu's betrayal genuinely hurt. Like Billy's? Yeah nah, fuck that guy. You can tell by how he badmouthed Billy in 2 that he really hated him by that point, but the way he badmouthed Stu was far less vitriolic.
Randy internally is just like: Maaaan. How could he? I knew he was Billy's lapdog but murder??? JFC.
He thinks middle parts look stupid.
As much of a movie buff that he is, he gets celeb names mixed up all the time. Like he'll mix up their first and last names.
His favorite Final Girl is Nancy Thompson. He loves Laurie Strode too, she's played by the Scream Queen after all, but Nancy is his favorite by far.
Randy likes anime. He's watched all of Evangelion, can recite all the lore of Trigun, and don't even get him started on how great Yu Yu Hakusho is.
He also likes Sailor Moon and his favorite is Venus because she remind him of Tatum!
He has a crush on Mars and Neptune tho.
Randy's room is actually very neat. He makes sure to organize everything well, and is very meticulous. He has a certain place for everything in his room, and he doesn't like it messed with.
He and Martha get along well, but weren't like super close siblings. He loved her a lot, and was protective of her, but their interests differed a lot, so they tended to do their own things.
Randy argues with customers at the video store about movies and movie opinions, and that's why he kept getting fired lol.
Wanted to be a Horror Film Director when he grew up :(
He watched all the behind the scenes stuff as a kid, and that's what got him interested in video production in the first place.
He built forts out of cardboards in his backyard and you cant tell me otherwise.
he was also the kid in the park who tried to get all the other kids in the park into a group to play pretend, usually something fantasy or sci fi inspired.
Randy loves Halloween. Like the holiday. It's his favorite time of the year, and it's one of the few things he shared with Billy and Stu. They'd grab a couple of beers and go scaring little kids for funsies, though Randy would always stop Stu or Billy from going too far, it was always just in good fun for him.
NSFW:
Total Switch. Subs at first, but as the relationship progresses he can dom just as easily.
His fingers are magic. I don't know what it is, but they're just very deft.
Could be because Randy is a quick learner in the bedroom. Like he genuinely listens to his partner and asks things like "That feel good?" or "This angle alright?"
Very communicative in bed after the initial first time together. During the first time, he's far too flustered.
Is super into body worship. Like he loves worshipping his partner's body like the holy grail.
He moans a lot in bed. Not as loudly as Stu does, but he gets pretty vocal.
He's an ass man, through and through. Boobs are nice, but the way a butt curves so perfectly? Nut.
he prefers more romanic and inimate positions, but he'll never say no to doggy style for...obvious reasons 👀
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So so so long ago, I told the dearest @opaldraws that I would write her a fic for her Instagram Steve au, which is one of my favourite aus because he so would have a huge following and post gorgeous lavish pics of himself with all that his parents’ money can buy, and I did start writing it! Only it took me, say, half a year or more to finish it??
So here you go! To Opal and every other reader,
I hope you enjoy!
-
His oversized shirt a dusty rosa, fuzzy and just a bit too long in the sleeves, the neck of it slipping down to expose moles dotting one shoulder. Skinny jeans in a light denim hug his legs like they were sewn for him specifically, it’s a wonder to behold.
Steve is warm and cozy inside, lying down on a daybed, surrounded by pillows, posing in front of large windows peering out onto the frozen forest, barren and covered in snow. Hawkins is brutally cold during the winters; so unforgiving that the photo shoots they do outside are thankfully scarce, even though Steve would work himself sick with a cold.
If it wasn’t for Billy and his stern insistence, Steve would have gotten frostbite seven times already this winter daring to wear just too little for the sake of fashion and aesthetic. Anything for his 800k followers.
But all his adoring boyfriend can really do most of the time is stand behind the camera and appreciate all of Steve’s gorgeous self with an all too satisfied sigh, as Steve glances over his shoulder at the camera, lashes done up with just a gentle hint of mascara, hearts scattered like freckles across his nose and cheeks.
Valentines is two weeks away by now, and Steve wants to show off and inspire some date looks, soft and delicate and beautiful. He never does anything with his hair, really, everyone already so jealous of the phenomenal floof of it that he wouldn’t ever dream of changing it now - the pastel aesthetic and his hair is practically his entire brand!
He poses on his stomach with his legs bent, feet kicking in the air, sleeves pulled over his hands as he smiles coyly.
Then he’s on his side, chest turned towards the camera, one leg bent with an arm draped over it, face turned away to give the perfect profile.
And then he’s on his back, head hanging over the foot end of the daybed, hair just grazing the floor as he looks directly into the camera, eyes big and brown.
Just like Bambi, is the oft used comparison by Billy, and even if this is slightly boring, he can’t help but smile at how utterly beautiful his boyfriend is.
He stays kneeling there, even as he lowers the phone to meet with Steve’s gaze directly, and all the same, Steve stays hanging there, smiling at the way Billy stares with adoration.
“What?” he huffs incredulously.
Billy doesn’t find words to respond right away, he’s always more adept with action instead, and moves in to kiss those perfect lips, so soft and pink, both of them smiling into the embrace, Billy’s hands smoothing across Steve’s cheeks, careful as to not ruin the makeup.
“I just… love you,” Billy hums with closed eyes, not giving Steve time to miss him.
And Steve laughs again - a sound so blithe and full of joy it’s invigorating and humbling. He reaches up to run his fingers down Billy’s golden curls, raking painted nails across his scalp and tugs there gently till he receives a delighted groan.
At the parting of lips, Steve dives in with his tongue, meeting Billy’s in a lackadaisical sense that urges forth affable moans from both, heat surging up and down Steve’s splayed out shape with every salacious little noise.
“Mmmh, ah… are you- are you done?” Billy whispers, travels away from lips to kiss along Steve’s freshly shaved jawline.
There’s no immediate response as Steve stays still, enjoying the praising kisses like gentle butterflies. He eventually grabs Billy by the sides of his face to guide him away, letting their eyes meet, staying there for seconds too long, admiring the ocean view; crystal clear waters brimming with love.
“Just getting started,” he chuckles once more, but the intent of it this time far more salacious, and Billy’s quick to catch on to that.
Steve rolls around in a rush and gets up on all fours, back arched beautifully, the large sweater hanging loose off of him. He bats his lashes at Billy, who can’t help the insanely cheesy grin spreading from ear to ear, before reaching down to yank at the belt loops of Billy’s jeans, beckoning him to stand up.
And Billy would never dream of not giving his princess what he wants, getting up on his feet only to bring his half hard cock straight into Steve’s eyesight.
A pleased hum roams around Steve’s chest as he slowly undoes Billy’s belt, gazing up with a sly little smirk as he pops free the button and lets the zipper run loose. When fingers curl around the denim to pull down his pants, Billy himself grabs the hem of his shirt and throws it over his head and away, never-minding where it might land since literally nothing else matters right now other than the way Steve’s licking his lips.
“Look so good for me, sweetheart,” Billy coos and gently pushes away the few locks that obscures Steve’s pretty face. “Gorgeous.”
He knows that that’s all Steve wants to hear - that he’s pretty and beautiful and gorgeous and attractive and desired, and Billy knows that flattery will get him everywhere, but even if he sought no boon, he’d still spend every single day of his life praising his boyfriend endlessly, and he plans on doing just that till there’s no more breath in his lungs.
But right now it proves most helpful in urging Steve on, leading him to run his open mouth along the thick outline of Billy’s trapped cock, tongue out to wet the fabric of his black trunks, up to the tip where he nibbles with lips around the head, lapping at where pre cum stains.
The euphoric sensation can be heard in Billy’s stuttering breath, seen in the manner his abs twitch with restraint, felt by the hand tugging in dark locks of hair.
Steve teases the elastic band of Billy’s underwear as he moves further up, dipping his fingers in and running them around the waist, lips just inches above to kiss the warm and taut skin. At an all too torturous pace he pulls down the fabric just enough to expose Billy’s flushed and steely cock, Steve’s lustful gaze following a throbbing vein from the shiny head to the waxed base.
He leans in to press his nose against the fresh skin, inhaling the musky scent deeply, planting wet kisses on every inch within reach, and finally wraps his fingers around Billy’s all too eager erection, the blushing bride nail-polish pairing well with the red of his hard cock.
“Stevie…” Billy breathes his name reverently, filled with lust and devotion, hands petting soft hair.
And Steve gazes up through his lashes at the amorous whisper of his name, taking in how intently Billy watches his every movement. Eyes locked together like this, Steve slips out his tongue to wet his lips till they’re shiny and slick with spit, then presses it flat against the side of Billy’s girthy cock, licking the entire length of it, all the while admiring how his boyfriend gasps and moans at the sight of a most salacious display.
“Fuck, baby,” his voice airy with anticipation.
The hand around him squeezes gently and he can’t help the inevitable thrust as his body seeks more friction. Just so, Steve can’t help the self-satisfied and amused little hum either, mouth vibrating against the veiny shaft, which only worsens the situation for Billy even more as he practically whines,
“Shit, pretty boy, please.”
“Well…” Steve muses and runs the tip of his tongue over Billy’s leaking slit, slow and agonizing, treasuring the salty taste of him. “You did say please.”
He slathers up his lips with spit before closing them around the blunt head, pressing it up against his palate as he sinks all the way down to the base, sloppy in the way he massages every inch of hard flesh with his tongue, eyes fluttering closed as Billy reaches the back of his throat.
Steve revels in every single sound Billy let’s out, the drawn out notes of pleasure.
“God, ahh…”
With hollow cheeks he moves back to the head, tongue swirling around like he’s enjoying a lollipop, fingers back around the now shiny shaft to stroke all of his length that isn’t inside Steve’s mouth. Fast then slow, the pressure perfected in a way that proves just how often he’s done this. He drinks up every spurt of pre, twisting and turning his head in tact with his hand, allowing the occasional thrusts Billy can’t hold back.
Until fingers pull at his hair; hard and earnest enough to make Steve stop and move off, looking up at Billy with red and shiny lips, well used and oh so pretty, oh so enticing. He lets himself be guided up on his knees, meeting Billy where he bends over to kiss him, hungrily tasting how exquisite his own pre and Steve’s spit mixes sweetly together, thumb smoothing over his cheeks and down to drag at Steve’s chin, opening up his mouth to let Billy lick into his heat, suck on his tongue and lightly nibble at his swollen lip.
“Fuck, sweetcheeks,” Billy breathes out and presses their foreheads together, “I wanna cum in you so bad.”
A delighted hum bubbles forth from Steve’s chest and out through the warmest smile any one human can manage, and oh how pleasant it sounds when he says, “Go get the lube, then.”
Billy kisses his forehead once, twice, thrice before awkwardly waddling towards the doorway, struggling to step out of his jeans, then whipping around so fast his mullet snaps in the air.
“Don’t… get undressed without me…” he says most ardently with a raised finger for emphasis.
And before Steve even gets to answer, Billy’s pantsless; hurrying through the hallway, heading for the stairs and leaving behind a trail of his boxers and socks. It’s nice to know how comfortable he is here in Steve’s house, no parents around, no siblings or kids. Just the two of them in solitude together.
He can be heard upstairs, running with heavy feet from the stairs and into Steve’s bedroom, to the bedside table where he finds the bottle immediately, then runs back the same way he came from, till he’s standing once more in the doorway to the conservatory, in such record time he should maybe consider joining the track team come summer.
Slightly affected by running, he breathes out heavily, “Now… do continue…”
Steve’s smile goes wide, feels it burn in his cheeks as he leans down to yank off his socks, balls them up together and throws them at where Billy stands and receives a laugh in return of that.
“You’re impossible,” he says lowly and with a slight roll of the eyes, but Steve’s quick to bring a finger up to his lips and make a shushing sound.
Next the zipper runs free and Steve sits back down on the daybed to pull the skinny jeans off in a rather awkward manner, almost as if he’s vaguely refusing to give Billy exactly what he wants, but it seems inevitable when Steve then gathers his legs closed, the oversized knit sweater pooling slightly around where he’s seated, giving the illusion that he’s wearing nothing else, a shoulder still peeking out.
Billy’s gaze travels up Steve’s bare legs to where moles vanish beneath the rosa fabric, and when their eyes meet, heat clashes together between them with unspoken intentions.
Steve only breaks eye contact to look down at where Billy now starts slowly stroking himself, and he bites his lip at the sight of it, veiny and wet, electric lust coursing through him and down. Down to where he’s been oh so needy and hard for far too long now. And as he leans back, supporting himself with one hand on the daybed, he reaches for the hemline of his sweater, keeps his lip caught between teeth, eyes heavy and sensual as he watches Billy licking his lips in anticipation.
So simple in truth, when Steve lifts up his shirt just enough to give Billy a clear view of his lengthy dick, the outline of it perfect in white briefs, a wet spot forming at the head. Even from here Steve can hear the way Billy’s breath shudders, can hear how he pants and exhales.
“God, Bambi, what’d I ever do to deserve you?”
That gentle praise is all Steve needs, to be told he’s something to be deserved, something holy maybe, cherished and desired to a point where people can’t function. It’s like magic, and it works all those wonders, too, as proven by how Steve spreads his legs and lifts the shirt even higher, up and up till he pulls it over his head, ruffling his hair, but that doesn’t matter right now.
All that matters is Steve giving Billy what he wants, and Billy giving Steve what he needs.
Billy approaches him slowly, suddenly not finding urgency of importance, to then kneel before Steve like one would at a shrine. Kissing firmly with devotion he travels up the inside of pale thighs, giving attention to every mole in his path till he’s met with the leg of white trunks.
Much to Steve’s irritation, Billy skips right past the entire area covered still in cloth, and continues from where the elastic waistband hugs tightly, kissing his way across Steve’s abs, his pecs, collarbone, neck, chin, and instinctively Steve lets his mouth slip open as Billy’s tongue glides across his lower lip before dipping into a sweet and ardent kiss.
In the same moment of such pure infatuation as is found in between their lips, Billy’s fingers hook themselves on the border of Steve’s trunks, whom in turn lifts up his ass to allow for the elastic band to smoothly slip past and down his thighs, his wettened dick hitting his stomach with a lucid slap.
Billy breaks away for them both to gasp for air, to look down at where Steve is drenched in pre.
“So wet for me, princess,” he drawls alluringly, bringing one hand to wrap his fingers gently around Steve’s hardened flesh.
“Mmhm, fuck, Billy…” Steve coos in tact with the slow stroking of his cock, fighting the urge to thrust into the temperate fist, each jerk sending sparks up his spine, causing his thighs to shake.
And Billy kisses the euphoric furrow between Steve’s brows, his flushed cheeks, the moles there, his jaw, down the slope of his neck to bury his nose in the crook and inhales the lingering scent from his honey body wash.
Steve’s head falls back with whines and whimpers at the near lackadaisical stroking, far too little friction, agonizing, lovely. He tilts his head aside and brings a hand up to guide Billy till their lips meet, sloppy and loose kisses as Steve whispers most pathetically,
“Please, don’t tease me like this, Billy, I need you…”
“Then let me take care of you,” says Billy as he leans away to meet with Steve’s gaze, who nods with a sigh.
It’s a bit of a mess really, getting comfortable on the daybed that’s barely long enough for one adult to lay there, then with a billion pillows as well that spill onto the floor as Steve shoves them away to lay down flat against the cushioned seating. There’s limbs everywhere and a near kick to Billy’s face as they settle with him kneeling between Steve’s legs, but it’s all with a good laugh and wide smiles as nothing can truly deter their drive to be brought together like this.
“So gorgeous like this, sweet stuff, all for me,” Billy drawls, voice thick with how possessive he truly is.
Steve’s thighs fall further apart at that; how easy he is when subjected to Billy’s heated gaze that promises him everything, that lustful tongue that swipes across his lips, the hand smoothly slipping down the inside of his thigh, palm heavy and burning, inching closer and closer to where Steve is suddenly so starved.
The lube that gets drizzled onto Billy’s fingers is cold when pressed against Steve’s entrance, sending a wave of goosebumps up his thighs, eliciting a little shocked inhale from above.
“Cold?” Billy asks with a well humoured huff as he looks up.
“Cold,” Steve says like it’s an important statement, yet he can’t help but to smile at the way Billy chuckles lightly.
And when Billy kisses Steve’s inner thigh all apologetic, he can only hum pleasantly, and when the tip of a digit goes in, moan. He drops his head back and onto a pillow as Billy continues to move his finger deeper and deeper, down to the knuckle just to pull out again without pause, setting a gentle and slow pace of thrusting his middle finger in and out of Steve’s lubed up, clenching hole.
“Mmh, ahh,” Steve breathes out loud as he melts like butter, mixing with the way Billy kisses soothingly up and down his thigh.
It doesn’t take long before Billy’s confident that Steve can take another digit, and is proven right with the, “Yes, God,” that spills from parted lips with a satisfied sigh. Billy loves watching how easily his fingers slide in and out, loves listening to the moans that grow louder when he curls the two fingers inside, loves feeling how Steve’s body tightens around him whenever he finds that bundle of nerves and presses against it. How Steve’s entire body writhes in the pleasure of it, moving to seek more, as if he’s in charge here.
“Please,” he pleads.
“That feel good?” Billy asks with a smug grin pressed against soft skin, looking up in hopes of catching how Steve’s face crumbles as he begs.
The answer is a short, airy, “Yes,” as if longer words would steal from his moaning and keening.
He doesn’t get a third finger before Billy’s already lubing his girthy cock up, because he knows how Steve wants it; how he loves the slight burn as his body stretches around his boyfriend’s width. And in true fashion of that, Steve gasps almost ecstatically as Billy lines up the tip of his fat prick with Steve’s clenching, tight hole.
“God, please, yes Billy-” he rambles out until Billy starts pushing in and his words are abruptly discontinued to instead allow a loud and euphoric moan freedom.
Billy inches closer and closer as he stays on his knees, the daybed just the perfect height for such a salacious affair, like it was bought subconsciously for a good and thorough fucking. And lucky for them how alone and quiet it is out here, for surely everyone in Hawkins would hear how vocal Steve is when he gets pounded in bed, how he can’t shut up even now as Billy’s just about bottoming out, groaning at how Steve clenches hungrily around the base of his cock.
How beautifully Steve’s back arches as his body trembles, a hand up to grasp at Billy’s shoulder, his face buried in brown hair and soft pillows, from where he pants breathlessly as he adjusts to the welcome intrusion.
It’s all too tempting to just bend down and kiss up along Steve’s pale stomach, lick a heavy tongue across perky nipples that can be felt in the way his body twitches and his breath stutters, nibble gently at his jaw once more, before whispering out,
“You fit me so well, Bambi, like your body was made for me to love.”
At that, Steve turns his head to catch the awe and adoration in those crystal clear eyes, but as Billy pulls out just to thrust back in, his eyes screw shut with exhilaration once more, a loud, “Fuck,” escaping.
Billy grunts as he speeds up to feed the urgent need they both give voice to. But it’s not enough. Not enough until Billy climbs onto the plushy bench, pushing Steve up higher till they’re both fully up on the daybed with those long legs tied around tan hips.
With an iron grip on the frame above Steve’s head, Billy uses the leverage to slam into his boyfriend’s craving hole, skin growing sweaty as it slaps together between them, his other hand down by a hip to guide their bodies together.
Between curses Billy can’t help to let out sweet honey, too, “God you’re so good to me, baby, sounding like an angel choir when I fuck you like this.”
Steve’s hands both immediately land on either side of Billy’s head and pull him into a kiss brimming with love and desire. “I love you,” he speaks softly, like it’s his most cherished truth, “I love you Billy.”
And Billy can’t help the chuckle that brushes against Steve’s lips between kisses, as hearing this still shocks him, even after years of dating and having sex. It’s astonishing that someone this beautiful and magnificent can’t love a beast like himself.
He curls around Steve; wrapping both his arms around his back as he draws them both nearer, balanced together on the far too small daybed that creaks beneath their shared weight.
“Love how strong you are,” Steve whispers as he kisses Billy’s temple, his hand brushing through golden locks. It’s almost impressive how sturdy his words seem when he’s an otherwise whining mess of ecstasy and blithe curses. “Love how good you feel inside of me, ah-”
Billy keeps his nose pressed against Steve’s neck, breathing in how appetising sweat and body-wash mixes. Every single word pushes him closer to the edge, makes his hips buck and dick pulsate.
“I’m close,” he murmurs between kisses.
“M-me too, oh fuck, please, harder,” it spills from delicious lips and into Billy’s ear.
And who is he not to oblige such obscene pleas. With his knees firmly planted on the cushions, and at a pace that will leave him sore tomorrow, Billy gives his most beloved all that he can, the blunt head of his cock near bullying that golden bundle of nerves buried deep inside of Steve, who in turn can only cry blissfully.
It doesn’t take long before he’s cumming loud and ruthlessly, covering them both in hot white, his entire body tensing up to a point where he’s ardently milking Billy’s cock for all it’s worth, as he cums shortly after with groans and thrusts that slaps so hard it leaves Steve’s cheeks red with abuse.
It’s a short moment filled with warm explosions like fireworks as he pumps his remaining energy deep inside of his boyfriend’s ass, hugging him dearly till there’s no other sound that their laboured breaths.
Moments pass before Steve’s the first one to speak,
“I’m gonna be so sore in an hour after this.”
“Promise I’ll kiss it better,” Billy chuckles out and kisses Steve’s shoulder.
“You better,” comes the response and they both laugh joyfully at that, because yes, Billy is absolutely going to make Steve feel all better again soon.
#Harringrove#My Writing#Lemon#Do we still do that?#Also on AO3#Is it obvious I stopped then came back to this?#I do worry so
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I don’t know why but I have spent way too much time developing a headcanon about how just about everyone behaves when either they are ill/injured or you/other characters are ill/injured. Will this lead to me actually writing a fic? (the odds aren’t great given how long it’s been since I’ve even written anything with my own characters let alone trying to stay true to the sketch of someone else’s) Who knows, but I guess this is the closest I’ve come to writing anything at all in far too long.
Sholmes:
*I think we can all agree that Sholmes is the absolute worst when he’s sick.
*He’s totally the type who being the slightest bit ill turns into a complete dramatic bitch and hams up the tiniest of colds like he’s about to die from the consumption. He lightly groans as though the effort of extending his arm fully to take a Kleenex out of the box himself is too much. Like my old rat D’onofrio his breathing is fine if he has no idea you are home, but the second he notes your presence every breath is a wheezy death rattle until you come and worry and fuss over him until his attention meter is full up.
*But also as soon as there’s something he actually wants to do he’s magically cured and runs off without even putting on a coat.
*In a modern AU he for some reason spends a lot of time on WebMD either convincing you that his allergy-related headache is a rare usually fatal disease. Or that you probably have a rare malady that is exacerbated by eating pheasant he should probably go ahead and eat your pheasant because he’s only thinking of your health.
* When you are sick it is unpredictable at best, but it depends on how sick you actually are. There will probably be a variety of dubious cures and tinctures which you should probably ignore unless Iris made them.
*He has literally tied Kazuma to a bed (this will make more sense shortly).
*He will also somehow claim to find Ryunosuke’s take all the meds at once approach reasonable.
Kazuma:
*Asogi is also a terrible patient who will drive you to want to drink, but in the opposite fashion to Sholmes.
*He’s the ‘it’s only a flesh wound’ type who will thoroughly ignore any and all evidence of illness or injury claiming he is perfectly fine and hale until he is half dead with it and passes out
*Even after he regains consciousness will continue to argue that he will be in tomorrow he only needs to run it under a cold tap.
*You will have to tie him to a bed to get him to take doctor’s orders, and then he will be sullen about it.
*Once you get him into a room and confiscate clothes he could go outside in where he is sulking he will change tactics and he will order you around a lot trying to make you angry enough to throw your hands up and let him take care of himself, except with Ryunosuke who he knows this won’t work on so he just tries to wheedle him into bringing his clothes back and makes double entendres and suggestive comments about being tied to the bed.
*When it is you who is sick he will become the overbearing one and you won’t be sure whether that is because he worries about you or because it’s revenge for when he was sick.
Ryunosuke:
*Ryunosuke is challenging when he’s ill because he will acknowledge the illness and neither exaggerate or ignore it, but he is too concerned about whether it inconveniences everyone else for him to be ill, so he will try to downplay or hide the fact he’s as sick as he is.
*He’ll try to get well as quick as possible hence doing dumb stuff like taking all the meds at once.
*He can be reasoned with, like you could convince him to go home and take a day off, or that if he shows up sick he’ll get you all sick, but he’ll try to work from home or come back before he’s 100% or he’ll also try to prevent anyone from helping him because he feels like he’s causing extra work or that he might get someone sick.
*Can also be intimidated into being a good patient with the threat of a Susato Takedown or Barok just glaring at him until he caves.
*When you are sick he worries over you and runs around trying to make everything easy for you. Sholmes will take advantage of that to the max, so he must be sent elsewhere to avoid that.
*Once threatened to tie Kazuma to the bed so he would follow doctor’s orders. Once he realized how suggestive that sounded and got flustered he gave up on that plan (even though everyone agreed it was actually the only plan that was likely to be successful.) Now they rib him about it every time either he or Asogi get ill.
Susato:
*Susato is level-headed and actually a fairly good patient to no one’s surprise, provided she is the only one who is ill.
*She will also be worried about being an inconvenience, but has the sense to do what’s needed to get better and then tries to make it up to everyone after even though no one thinks that’s necessary
*She won’t let anyone help her though unless she really needs it. As she doesn’t want them to get sick or to fuss.
*If others are sick she will tend to put them all before her even if she’s sicker, and gets stubborn about this. This has led to at least one occasion of Sholmes dropping the theatrics and Kazuma acting like a model patient at the same time.
* When you’re sick she is no nonsense and actually helpful. She spends a lot of time shooting down Sholmes’ webMD self diagnoses, and makes Ryunosuke give her his prescriptions so she can administer the dosage because she doesn’t have time to drag him to the hospital. She has also had to threaten the Susato takedown on Kazuma more than once if he doesn’t go see the doctor today.
Gina:
*Gina is in the Kazuma mold of patient, except when you finally force her to act like she is as sick as she is, she turns into Sholmes.
*When you are ill she is aggressive about you taking care of yourself and worries, she has a lot of past trauma with people dying from her time trying to take care of her orphan army in the rookeries.
*Is not above threats, guilt-trips, and shooting you with a smoke grenade full of vitamin c or eucalyptus vap-o-rub mist.
*has pickpocketed Ryunosuke’s prescription to give to Susato more than once to avoid him taking them all at once.
Iris-
*When ill Iris is a lot more like Susato, but she totally tries to invent her own tea-based cures, and she will also downplay or hide that she’s sick because she doesn’t want anyone to worry about her, but doesn’t go overboard with it the way Ryunosuke does.
*She is pretty much immune to Sholmes’ theatrics at this point, but sometimes will make up new imaginary web md illnesses that he might have to amuse herself.
*She will mother you with tea-based or soup-based cures which you will be safe consuming and will make you feel better emotionally if not physically, but often physically as well.
*Has also modified one of her smoke grenade guns to fire eucalytpus vap-o-rub mists, and also so they can knock Kazuma or Gina out safely and temporarily so they can be made to convalesce when they are being extra stubborn.
Barok-
* somehow Barok is the best patient of all of them. It’s probably the only time that he is truly polite and courteous with no sarcastic requests for forgiving discourtesies.
*This comes from some combination of Klimt telling him as a boy about a noble’s responsibility to the people of his estate (and his actually taking this concept to heart unlike a lot of nobles) and the sheer number of times he has had to rely on doctor’s, nurses, and staff due to the numerous attempts on his life over the years.
*He will downplay the seriousness of an injury especially out of habit and so as not to worry those who he cares about (though he finds it shocking always that anyone cares about him) but he will always get it seen to and respect orders provided they come from a professional and there are reasons given.
*He will insist that his staff gets things if he needs them and not you, but this is because he wants the staff to feel comfortable and he pays them extra compensation for it. Were he contagious he would not allow them but would pay their wages for them to be away from his home. (This is a big secret and his staff is very loyal to him even without this money. It’s just like the chalices and vintages all the theatrics of it is to fund these families of artisans. Charity without charity.)
*When you are sick, except maybe Sholmes who he just can’t even, he is kind and no nonsense. He thinks you should come to stay in his guest room and been seen by his doctor, that way you’ll get the best care and recover quicker. He’ll have his staff take care of you (but also report back to him if you aren’t being cooperative. He will tell you to think nothing of it, you’re friends and he’s rich and has no family left (except Iris and she doesn’t even live with him) so what else would he do with it, besides it provides wages.
*He is not above intimidating Ryunosuke (sometimes also Gina ) into convalescing as they should.
*This doesn’t work with Kazuma who he had also considered tying to the bed, but instead decided to let him have it his way and then when he got bad enough and passed out took him to the estate anyway and made sure the doctors told him exactly how much longer he had to convalesce than he would have if he’d listened to Barok in the first place.
*He brings this up every single time so they can just skip to the part where Kazuma sulks and is a grouchy patient.
*Is the only person that doesn’t join in with the group pastime of ribbing Ryunosuke about threatening to tie Kazuma to the bed To make him follow doctor’s orders.
#dgs#dgs spoilers#I mean not really spoilers unless you are like how would they have talked#ryunosuke naruhodo#kazuma asougi#susato mikotoba#iris wilson#gina lestrade#herlock sholmes#barok van zieks#random headcanon#stronghart would only let himself be sick for 26 minutes
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honesty and promise me, part 5 [co-written with @darkmagyk] [read on ao3]
Annabeth is making her periodic pilgrimage to the gynecologist when she gets Leo's call. It's very fitting--two uncomfortable and invasive things for the price of one. She answers her phone, ignoring the doctor's chastising frown. Surely she can place her new IUD while Annabeth deals with whatever Leo wants.
"What are you doing on the 18th?" he asks, about the only type of hello she ever gets from Leo.
The two of them never really grew out of pretending not to like each other, after they had gotten over their initial dislike. When he and Piper first got to Miss Minerva's, more or less straight out of juvie after Piper's dad made a lot of calls and called in a lot of favors, she and Leo had really hated each other. They used to fight over everything, from Piper's attention to the position of captain of the Mathletes team. And also, over Leo hating a rich white girl on principle, which, in retrospect, is totally fair. But then, by a weird twist of fate, they wound up in Boston together.
If Annabeth had to choose between hanging out with her creepy, Norse mythology-obsessed uncle and hanging out with Leo, she'd pick Leo every time. They had gone through a lot together, things both big and small.
"Of August?" she asks.
"Please be still, Ms. Chase," says her doctor. Annabeth rolls her eyes.
"Duh."
Wracking her thoughts she can't think of any prior commitments she might have had. Maybe there's a concert that day, but if she can't remember, it probably wasn't that important anyway. "Not much."
"Good, because we have plans."
She frowns. "Piper didn't mention any--"
"No, you and I have plans. I'll see you in Philly, yeah?"
Philadelphia? Ew. "Why Philly?"
"Our Smarter House thing won an award."
"No shit?"
"Eta Industries Award. The gala is on the 18th. You're my plus one."
She sucks in air through her teeth, readjusting her hips as unobtrusively as possible. Eta Industries was… a very big deal. "Isn't that, like, an engineering specific award? Maybe you should accept it by yourself." She'd be better off staying out of the limelight for this one, she thinks, even as some part of her longs once again for recognition.
Something electric whirs in the background, tinny and buzzing. "I'll see you on the 18th, then," says Leo, not having heard a word she said. "Also, you've been summoned to the castle."
"Leo--" she jumps as the gyno touches something she really shouldn't have.
"No arguments, she's expecting you today at two. Adios!" He clicks off.
"Okay, Ms. Chase," says the doctor, a little too chipper for Annabeth's taste. "You should be all set."
Annabeth leaves the doctor's office with her brand new IUD, a handful of medical literature which immediately gets tossed in the trash, and a sinking feeling in her gut as she gets on a train to Brooklyn, headed to Piper's place for another annoying and unnecessary fashion show. It's not that she doesn't enjoy being Piper's model--it's a position she's held since their time at Miss Minerva's, and it's never really a hardship to be told how gorgeous she is--but Piper has a way of just... getting information out of her that she doesn’t always want to share.
Stopping off early, Annabeth gives herself a moment to walk down the Brooklyn Heights Promenade, to settle her nerves and indulge herself a bit. That skyline gets her every time.
Turning down Pierrepont Street, she is once again struck by just how quiet the city can be. Manhattan is loud, rude, in-your-face, almost an entirely different world from the stately, deafeningly silent Brooklyn. For Annabeth, who is incapable of falling asleep without city horns blaring, it wigs her out a little.
She barely has time to ring the doorbell on Piper's dad's place before the girl herself wrenches it open, grabbing Annabeth's hand and yanking her inside. "You're late!" she trills, suffering what Annabeth can only assume is the onset of a caffeine overdose.
"I thought I had until two."
"That was before I had the best idea."
The brownstone is a mess, as per usual, reams of fabric tossed over every available surface, enough dressforms strewn about to make it look like Piper is hosting a party exclusively populated by headless zombies, adorned with a warehouse's worth of half-finished dresses and jackets. Based on the loud fabrics and structured angles, it looks like Piper is in the middle of a Klimt-ian phase of inspiration. Annabeth eyes a bright gold gown with a huge, extended collar, embroidered with silver eyes, the raw edges trailing the floor. "Please tell me this isn't your idea."
"First of all," Piper releases her arm as they enter her kitchen-turned-photo studio, gingerly stepping over a box of assorted beads, "even though it would look amazing on you, that dress is for an actual paying client. Second of all--" she snatches up a dressform from its position behind the camera, setting it down in front of her with a flourish. "This is my idea."
Annabeth was right--Piper is definitely on a Klimt-ian kick.
Pulled straight from her art history classes, the dress looks like a two dimensional painting come to life, a stunning skirt like a column of liquid silver descending onto the black mat, pleats like fluted columns precisely draped over the dressform's hips… and not much else. Annabeth points. “Is that it?”
Piper makes a face. "I have a bodice, promise. Now go take that shit off."
Annabeth looks down at her repurposed The Police shirt, fished out of a thrift store bin some months ago, shirt collar cut and sides resewn to bring the waistline in. "I like this shirt."
"Oh, I like the shirt plenty," she agrees. "But you could stand to wear a nicer pair of jeans."
She does have a point there--her jeans are clinging to life at this point, the knees and hems all but obliterated, strings of fabric valiantly attempting to hold their original shape. "Fine. Be right back."
When she emerges from the bathroom a minute later in just her bra and panties, Piper has laid out another bolt of fabric in that same color, silver with a blue shift beneath the studio lights. Piper, bent over with a strip of measuring tape, looks up at her, then squints. "So who is he?"
Annabeth starts. "Excuse me?"
"The guy you've been seeing."
How... the fuck does Piper always know these things? "I don't know what you're talking about."
She flicks her eyes down to Annabeth's thigh, Annabeth following her gaze to the remnants of the bruise that Percy had left there with his mouth two days ago. Dammit.
Piper tsks, a smile distorting the sound. "Naughty, naughty, Annabeth."
"How do you know it wasn't from a girl?" she asks, petulant.
"Because if it had been a girl, you wouldn't be nearly so defensive."
Shit. "We've been friends way too long," Annabeth grumbles.
"That we have," says Piper. "And out of respect for our friendship, I will refrain from grilling you about him until you are more comfortable sharing."
"So, for a few hours?"
She shrugs. "More or less."
"I suppose you want me to thank you for holding back."
"Don't thank me yet," she grins, wide and toothy. "I've been cooped up here working on my collection for three days, and I am dying to talk to someone."
Annabeth sighs, but obediently raises her arms, making room as Piper crouches down to pin the skirt on her. "Okay, you got me. I'm seeing this guy."
"Seeing or seeing-seeing?"
"Just seeing," she clarifies. "It's pretty casual."
"Can't be that casual if you're telling me about it," Piper points out.
Fuck. This is why she never tells Piper about her hookups. "You're the one who asked."
"Another business bro, I assume?"
"He's--" Piper swats at her as she automatically sucks her stomach in, their long held code for "stay put." "He's a dancer."
She hums, arranging pleats over Annabeth's knees. "Like on Broadway?"
"Ballet."
Piper glances up at her, eyes sparkling. “Un danseur! Ooh la la,” she trills. “What’s his name?”
“I can just leave,” Annabeth says, distinctly not thinking about how Percy will occasionally slip into French whenever he stubs his toe.
“Okay, okay, no more boy talk.” Piper moves in front of her, adjusting the fabric about her waist. “Tell me about the thing you just won with Leo.”
“I had honestly forgotten about it,” she says, lying a little, pulling her arms forward. “You remember his master’s thesis?”
“The shmart kishen thing, right?” Piper asks around the tape measure in her mouth.
Leo, the prodigal boy that he is, had spent his last year of school dedicated to a singular problem faced by people around the world: the sudden, out of control kitchen fire. Using very complicated electronics and engineering that Annabeth does not understand, he devised a handful of mechanisms to sense, contain, and ultimately douse random fires as soon as they popped up. Annabeth came on as his design partner after he had graduated and had gotten some funding to conceptualize an entire safe house.
“Well, it just won an Eta Industries award.”
Her head snaps up, hands freezing in their tracks. “Holy shit.”
“Yeah.”
“Congrats.”
“Thanks,” she shrugs as Piper gets up to grab some more fabric. “I mean, it was mostly Leo’s doing. I just made sure he didn’t leave any stray pipes around.”
Holding out her arms again, Piper slides them through the sleeves of a heavy, corset-like piece, structured and straight and very forgiving on Annabeth’s lack of curves. “You shouldn’t sell yourself short,” she says. “I’m sure your skills as a guinea pig were very valuable.”
“Are you ever going to let that go?” Annabeth asks, she who has literally burnt pasta while it was submerged in water.
“You’re just lucky my dad was out of town that weekend. Have you decided what you’re going to wear to the awards ceremony?”
She shoots her friend a strange look. “I thought I was wearing this?” she gestures to the unfinished silver gown currently making her feel like an absolute goddess.
Piper makes a face. “What do I look like, the fucking Flash? This isn’t going to be ready for another thirty hours, at least. I’ve got decals to add, Swarovskis to bead, not to mention all the hand-stitching on the neckline because for whatever reason my machine has decided to hate me this week.”
“Okay, well,” says Annabeth, appropriately cowed, “then I guess I’ll wear the black one you gave me.”
“2019 fall/winter?”
Annabeth nods.
“Styling?”
“Luke gave me this really nice scarf for my birthday.”
Throwing her head back, she groans.
“What? What’s wrong?”
“You’re so boring,” she moans, pulling Annabeth’s hair out of the way. “Let me guess, you’re going to pair it with the black shrug and opaque nude tights.”
“Well… yeah, I was.”
“Exactly! Boring.” Coming back around, she pushes Annabeth lightly into the light, before taking her place behind the camera. “You could do so much with that dress and you choose to make it boring. Why not some fishnets? Or a big statement necklace?”
Annabeth waits after a few shutter clicks to answer. “Because I doubt that the people at Eta Industries are going to be big fans of my tattoos.”
“That is a bald-faced lie and you know it,” Piper says. “Your tattoos and piercings are gorgeous and you would look absolutely rocking with them. Knock all the old farts right off their feet. Turn.”
Obediently, Annabeth rotates, letting Piper snap off as many pictures as she likes. “This isn’t a Vogue event, Pipes,” she says, rolling her eyes where her friend can’t see them. “Punk isn’t exactly accepted practice yet.”
“Punk was the Met Gala theme almost a decade ago, babe. It has filtered down from Vogue. It's practically cerulean now. Side.”
Annabeth turns again, keeping her eyes straight. Side-eye would ruin the shot, no matter how much she wants to give it.
“I will never understand why you both refuse to wear halfway decent jeans and then refuse to go guns out in my dresses that demand it. I can almost guarantee you that Leo will show up in those stupid suspenders with grease on his face. And you’ll have to get him to leave his tool belt in the car.”
“Then it’s probably for the best that I have a modicum of professionalism, huh?”
Piper leans out from behind the camera, glaring. “At the very least,” she hedges, “will you let me set you up with some shoes?”
“I don’t know…”
“You are not allowed to wear those horrid Manolo pumps you wear everywhere. And your nude Louboutins won’t look right with the black.”
“What did you have in mind?”
Piper’s grin is evil, and the way she scampers out of the room means she’s got something she’d been trying to force on Annabeth for a long time.
Five minutes later, Annabeth is presented with a set of black strappy sandals, its edges detailed in a gold zipper, with safety pin pull to match. She frowns. “Are you sure? They look kind of… hardcore for something like this.”
“They’re Versace,” Piper says. “I was not lying about punk’s democratization.”
Well. They are pretty cool.
“It’s either this or the McQueen boots. They have studs.”
Annabeth sighs, holding out her hand. Piper squeals, bouncing a little, wrapping her in a brief, but exuberant hug, kissing her cheek with a loud, wet, smack. “You’re the best!”
“I haven’t even done anything.”
“I am saving up favors to cash in. Now,” she releases Annabeth, retreating behind the camera. “If you’ve got some time, can I borrow your head? I’m working on a helmet and all my mannequins are busy.”
***
“Hey,” Percy begins. It is so late at night, the dawn is on the edge of breaking, and they are both exhausted from some particularly good sex. Which is saying something, because all their sex is particularly good. “You doing anything on the 18th?”
“Yeah,” She says, distractedly, snuggling down into his bed. The fact that she’s also snuggling into him is just a coincidence.
“Oh.”
“Why?”
“Nothing. Was going to invite you to a thing if you weren’t.” She nods her head against his shoulder and falls asleep in his arms, thinking absolutely nothing about it.
She continues to think nothing of it on the train to Philadelphia on the 18th, half-asleep and listening to Paramore to pass the time, blasting Misery Business on repeat as she changes in her hotel room.
The Eta Industries event is pretty much exactly what she expected: a lot of old rich white people milling about, sipping champagne and verbally circle jerking each other, the insipid strains of classical music spilling out of the ballroom as Annabeth steps up to claim her name tag. “Name?” asks the young, college-aged girl, skimming her printed guest list over the rim of her glasses.
“Annabeth Chase.”
She runs a long fingernail over the assorted collection of name tags, before settling on the correct one, handing it to Annabeth, her star tattoo on the inside of her wrist free and open to anyone who would care to look. “Here you are, Ms. Chase,” she says, smiling. “Have a wonderful night!”
Automatically, Annabeth goes to pin it on Luke’s scarf, before she remembers that something is already occupying that place--Percy’s Acropolis pin. She had taken to keeping it in her pocket these days, something of a good luck charm, and thought that it might… she doesn’t know, maybe send a subconscious signal to Percy that she’s thinking of him. Even though there is, quite literally, no way he could know, she hopes that maybe he can sense it, and that maybe he’s thinking about her, too.
Ugh. She snatches up a flute of champagne from a wandering waiter, eager to get that thought out of her head, making a beeline straight for the refreshments table. It’s there that Leo finds her, not five minutes later, munching on some chocolate covered strawberries.
“And here I thought you might ditch me entirely,” he says, even as he bumps her shoulder. True to form, he is absolutely, 100% dressed in those stupid suspenders, a smudge of grease behind his ear.
“You’ve got a…” Annabeth trails off, motioning behind her own ear.
“Huh? Oh!” He snatches up a napkin, rubbing discreetly. “Thanks.”
She squints. Something about him is distinctly different. “Are you taller?”
Kicking out a foot, he wiggles it, triumphant. “Platform shoes.”
“Seriously?”
“Hey, if they're good enough for Robert Downey Jr., then they’re good enough for me. After all, I am Ir--”
She groans, good-natured, taking another gulp of champagne. “If you quote Marvel in your speech, I’m leaving.”
“Fine by me, Your Highness, they’ll give me the award either way.”
“Excuse me, Mr. Valdez?” The same college girl from before sidles up to them, clipboard clutched in her hand. “They’re about to start.”
He claps his hands, rubbing them together. “Excellent. You coming?”
“I…” She casts her gaze to the makeshift stage they’ve constructed, eyeing the bright “Eta Industries” placard, the sharp angles shiny and alluring, the siren-song of recognition.
This is a big deal. There are photographers in the audience. In the write-ups and reviews, she would be listed as a co-winner of the award, a co-designer of the world’s safest house, a thought so happy she practically starts flying.
“I think I should stay out of the limelight for this one, Leo,” she says, politely. “This is your moment. I don’t want to ruin it.”
He frowns. “You sure?”
Were it not for the fact that people were watching, Annabeth would have leapt up onto that stage without a second thought, snatching up the trophy like she had just won the Oscar, holding it up like the goddamn Olympic torch. “What, you want a white woman stealing your glory?” she says instead, arching a brow.
“You get a pass this one time,” he quips, holding out his hand. “Don’t make me regret it.”
Whatever social grace she has left crumbles. She’s denied it enough--she wants to be up there. “Oh, fine. Since you insist,” she says, following clipboard-girl to the stage.
There’s a quick burst of feedback, then an elderly gentleman at the podium begins speaking into the mic. “Excuse me--sorry about that. Yes, yes, thank you all for coming tonight to the annual Eta Industries awards presentation ceremony. It is always such a pleasure to come together with our hard-working and generous board members and shareholders to honor the best and brightest upcoming talent in engineering.”
Internally, she rolls her eyes. Rich people.
“It is my pleasure, however, to introduce the young man who is the recipient of this year’s Millennium Prize for innovation and safety. One of MIT’s youngest and most decorated graduates, he was a recipient of the Mead Prize for Students, the Friedman Young Engineer Award, and the Collingwood Prize, among several others. His master’s thesis, ‘Towards the Design and Implementation of Autonomous Safety Measures in Commercial Kitchens,’ formed the basis of the project which we recognize tonight, the so-called ‘SmartSafe House,’ reflects the pioneering spirit and outstanding creative vision of not only Eta Industries, but also the field of engineering as a whole. Please join me in congratulating this year’s Millennium Prize recipient, Leo Valdez.”
From the sidelines, she claps enthusiastically with the rest of the crowd as her friend takes the stage, shakes hands with the Vice President of Eta Industries, and accepts the award, a blue, blocky triangle which almost seems to glow in the light of the ballroom. “Thank you, Mr. Helms. This is--this is a really big honor.”
She can see him shaking a bit, taking a quick drink from his water glass. Public speaking was never really his strong suit.
“As--as a lot of you probably know, this project is very near and dear to my heart. Growing up in Houston with my mother, a car mechanic, I was eight years old when her beloved shop went up in flames, like that.” He snaps his fingers, his other hand pressed to the podium where no one can see, joints white with pressure. Annabeth is proud of him--he hasn’t been able to speak this candidly about it in years. She knows firsthand how much his mother’s near-death haunts him still. “Thankfully, we were able to rebuild, and my mother went on to bigger and better things--including a shop with cleaner vents. But I can definitely pinpoint that moment as the day I knew I wanted to make the world a safer place, for my mom, if not for everyone else.”
She remembers, so clearly, that snowy night in the dorms at Miss Minerva’s. The power had gone out, and Leo had made them an illicit campfire out of their trash bin and Annabeth’s failed English exam. Cold and miserable and with dying phones, they passed the time instead telling scary stories and funny memories, until the conversation had gotten suddenly, intensely real.
“But I would be remiss,” he goes on, cheerful, “if I didn’t acknowledge my friend and collaborator, without whose work I wouldn’t be here today: Annabeth Chase,” he waves to his side, indicating her. The whole crowd, as one, turns their gazes on her. She straightens up, imperceptibly, hoping she doesn’t look too haughty or anything. “I’ve never been very good with people. My mama says I’m just like my dad that way. Give me a car, or a computer, or pages of multiplication tables, and I’m golden. But people?” He blows out a breath, and the crowd chuckles, naturally. “Now, if it had been left up to me, the SmartSafe House would have been a top of the line, cutting-edge metal box, efficient to a fault, but completely unlivable. Thank God I had Annabeth on my team to remind me what the project was really about: a home that families could feel safe in, so that what happened to me and my mom might never happen to anyone else.” He hoists his award above his head, leaning into the mic. “Ma, este es para ti. Thank you all.”
Stepping down from the stage, they reenter the crowd, ready to receive adoration. In another life, she might have been embarrassed by such praise. Here and now, however, she takes each handshake and word of congratulations like a starving man in a desert who just came across an oasis, hungry and greedy.
Hey, it’s her night, too.
After what feels like a whole-ass sixty minutes of shaking old people's hands and polite nodding, though, she is in desperate need of a break. Escaping the throng of mingling bodies, she darts into a dark corner of the ballroom, leaning against the back of a rounded stone column, just barely out of sight of the party.
Rubbing her hands over her face, she sighs, just short of a scream. Blowing out all her air, she lets the faint music and fake laughs melt into each other, becoming white noise, a blank canvas, empty of concrete thoughts and feelings.
Then, her ear picks up a strand of conversation.
“...announcing tomorrow that the CEO of Pallas Inc. is choosing a successor,” a woman says, the sneer in her voice almost visible. “About time.”
“I thought she already picked a successor,” says the woman’s conversation partner, a man with the kind of cookie-cutter cadence that she heard every time she took a business major to bed. “Pallas is a family business, isn’t it?”
“You haven’t heard?” Annabeth can almost picture it, the furtive glance around the room, the woman placing her hand on her partner’s arm, leaning in to share a juicy secret. “Supposedly she was grooming her daughter for the role, before she went in for rehab.”
“Rehab? Really?”
“What else could it be?” says the woman. “She’s disappeared off the face of the earth, and her mother refuses to talk about her. Let’s be honest, if she were dead, she would have raised a bigger stink about it.”
Annabeth closes her eyes, sucking air in through her teeth. That… wasn’t totally untrue.
But the woman doesn’t stop. “It’s always the same story,” she scoffs. “You throw countless hours of schooling and millions of dollars into girls like her, and what do they do? Turn around and blow it all on drugs and partying. Honestly, she should be grateful her mother is even bothering with her rehab at all. Hasn’t she wasted enough of the family’s money already?”
Blood roars in her ears, drowning out the fancy party. Sharp points dig into her palm, pinpricks of pain, before she realizes that they’re her own fingernails.
The lady has got it all wrong. Her mom couldn’t even be bothered with that.
Luke’s scarf, the shrug, it’s choking her, suffocating and constricting. Percy’s pin feels heavy on her chest.
Blinders on, she would have sprinted for the exit were it not for the Piper’s stupid Versace heels, reduced instead to a teetering, tottering wreck, like a baby colt running from a predator. The night is hot and humid, heavy with the threat of rain, and Annabeth can barely breathe, dark spots in her eyes, until she ducks into a nearby Target, the frigid blast of air a welcome distraction.
Almost in a daze, she watches herself pick up a few things--clippers, an electric razor, beef jerky, a blue Gatorade she considers for a moment before putting it back, choosing a lemonade instead--practically throwing them at the poor cashier who begins checking her out, mechanically. He doesn’t spare her a single glance for her odd assortment of items. He doesn’t even look at her at all.
The walk to her hotel room disappears in the blink of an eye. Blink--she breezes past the check-in counter, slipping into the empty elevator. Blink--she kicks off her heels in her room, nearly hitting the wall mirror, leaving a scuff mark on the white plaster. Blink--she’s down to her underwear and tights in the bathroom, shaving the right side of her curls clean off. She’d gotten them professionally done for the night, perfect spirals held together by expensive products. And now she wants them gone.
She pauses and breathes too hard, looking at herself in the mirror. Her mother didn’t like that she was blonde. Maybe because of dumb blonde stereotypes, maybe just because it reminded Athena too much of her failed romance with Annabeth’s dad. And that thought stays her hand from getting rid of the rest of them.
That, and maybe the idea of Percy, of some broke dancer, tangling his fingers in it as they lie together.
Fuck her mother, and the fucking stories she tells.
She likes it. She likes her blonde hair and her fresh undercut.
She can get Thalia to touch this up later, maybe. Now, though, she needs this.
It doesn’t look perfect. The left side of hair is too long, her gold laurel earrings too fancy for a homegrown haircut like this, her makeup too pristine. Shoving her hand under the running water, she rubs at her eyes, mascara and eyeliner smearing until they’ve reached something much more respectable for the failure that she really is.
She misses her industrial. And her eyebrow rings. And the tongue piercing. But this will have to do for now.
Breathing heavily, eyes hot, she doesn’t register her phone blinking, signaling an unread text message.
It’s from Thalia. surprised you weren’t at kelp heads bday party, it reads. was pretty boring. Kno he missed you
#backstory backstory backstoryyyyyyy#my fic#percabeth#pjo#the rivalry ends here#darkmagyk#perseannabeth#ballet au
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Tangled Salt Marathon - Day of the Animals
While perhaps not my favorite episode this season, Day of the Animals is easily the best written story of season three. Even so, it still has problems due to the third season’s poor approach to characterization.
Summary: Rapunzel, Varian, Angry and Red are returning stolen loot that the two girls had stolen years ago. They are accompanied by Max, Pascal, Ruddiger and Hamuel who all cannot stop quarreling with each other (or in Hamuel's case, just being useless). While messing with a sea shell pendant, it magically transports the humans into it, leaving the animals to fight over it. A minor thug named Dwayne, steals the pendant forcing the animals to work together to retrieve it.
So Why is a Polynesian Inspired Kingdom Within Riding Distance of a Northern European Country?
If you’ll remember my review of Beginnings, Neserdina’s princesses were wearing Polynesian garb and dancing the Hula when prepping for the competition. Now I’ve already went into length as to why that’s not good representation, but in addition to that it’s also just plain dumb. You can’t just transport one ethic group and dump them into another part of the world because it’s convenient for you. You don’t earn any brownie points for doing that. Especially when your fantasy world is still based off of our own historical earth.
To make things even more confusing, we actually saw Neserdina way back in season one in Way of the Willow. It’s where Willow bought the gremlin knock-off.
That is an island. How the heck do you get to a volcanic island riding in a horse and cart? And don't tell me they’re riding to a port, because Corona is a port city already. They could have gotten there by boat. It’s also can’t be too far away from Corona’s borders if Angry and Red were able to get there on foot during their year long travels.
The only explanation is that the entirety of the Tangled crew doesn’t understand geography, and this won’t be the last example in the show to back up that statement.
So Why Is Rapunzel Here?
We get explanations for why everyone is on this road trip, except for the main character herself. Red and Angry are trying to return some stolen loot. Varian is wanting to pick up rare alchemy supplies at the market and was invited along because Raps hopes it’ll be a chance for Ruddiger and Max to get know one another better.
But why on earth does Rapunzel feel the need to come on this trip herself? Doesn’t she have a kingdom to run? While I’m sure Eugene is more than capable of handling things, this doesn’t reflect well upon the writers supposed plan of making Rapunzel appear more responsible.
Literally any other adult could have come along on this trip. This wasn’t something Rapunzel needed to waste time on. Lance especially would have been more appropriate here as he’s the one who’s suppose to eventually adopt Angry and Red. And the sad thing is, all they had to do was give Rapunzel a line about needing to attend some sort of diplomatic business in Neserdina. That’s it.
In a show that’s supposed to be all about Rapunzel; Rapunzel sure doesn’t have a whole lot of reasons to exist in the majority of the episodes.
Lack of Worldbuilding Strikes Again
At this point I’m kind of numb to the whole “magical thing just exists for no adequately explained reason” and so I’m not as upset as some people are about the shell necklace. But it’s still not good writing.
Why does this thing exist? How did come to be cursed? How did it get mixed in with their stuff? What activated the magic and why did it only effect the human’s even though the animals were closer to it?
Just something show. Anything. You bothered to give use rules for how this thing works and even stuck to them this time, but you can’t just make the last leg of the trip and give us some exposition?
Yeah, okay.
So Where Exactly Are We in Relation to Corona?
We can see Pittsford and Ivangarr on the road sign and we have to be in riding distance to Neserdina from Corona, but like are we in Corona still? Are we in Koto, which is Corona’s nearest neighbor to the east according to season three. Are we in some no-man’s-land where none of the kingdoms have control, or are we already in Neserdina itself?
The series gives us no sense of direction nor any firm placement for Corona within it’s world. I only know it is a Northern European country because Corona itself is a peninsula with a north sea, uses French, English, and German fashion/customs, and Rapunzel is a Germanic fairy tale. But like those clues are thrown into a blender and contradicted several times over, on top of never being told where it’s closest kingdoms actually lie.
All of this matters when traveling and exploring the wider world are big themes of your show. You need more solid and consistent world building than this. It also impacts how much authority and control your main character has within the episode itself if she range of political power is limited to one area. So like we need to know where the heroes stand here.
(FYI I personally headcannon Corona as former Prussia which was once part of Germany and it’s alliance of smaller kingdoms. It’s also a peninsula next to the Curonian Spit)
This Is Not Progress
Okay so the idea here, is that the show is implying that Rapunzel is trying to improve Corona’s justice system over Frederic’s previously inhumane crack down on crime. However, this is terribly executed.
For starters the show has never called Frederic nor Rapunzel out for their previous misbehavior. You can not change any system for the better without acknowledging the flaws within said system first. Therefore this comes right out of nowhere and doesn’t stick around long enough to stay within the viewers minds for later.
Secondly, Rapunzel is incredibly fickle about who she does and doesn’t set free. The Saporians were still in the dungeons last time we saw them, Caine was shipped off to the prison island and left to die there as far as we know, and the Stabbingtons are shown shackled together in the wedding short even though they supposedly changed their ways and befriended Eugene again.
Meanwhile Dwayne and Stalyan are free to go their marry way and continue their life of crime, Varian is only released from his overly harsh punishment because he kissed Rapunzel’s ass not because it was wrong to imprison him in the first place, and later Cassandra gets away scot free because she’s Rapunzel’s bestie even though she committed the worst crimes out of everyone in the show and for very little reason.
That’s not justice. That’s not compassion. That’s not progressive reform. It’s just nepotism, and it’s every bit as corrupt as Frederic’s classism and totalitarianism.
Just because Rapunzel is “nice” it doesn’t mean that she is kind. Real reform has to treat everyone with equality and have a set of base standards that are beyond one person’s personal judgment. She is still a dictator and an abuser even if she lets the occasional person go free on a whim.
Finally, Rapunzel’s methods are just downright ineffective. Dwyane may not be a threat to our heroes, but that doesn’t mean he’s not a threat to other people. He’s not actually sorry about trying to rob people at knife point and he fully plans on continuing being a thief after feeding Rapunzel the lines she wants to hear.
Furthermore, we don’t know if this course of action is born out of malice or desperate need. He half heartily comments about finding ‘an honest job” but can he even do that? Is it even a realistic option for him? The series has been weaving this class inequality theme through out it’s past three seasons and directly connecting that to Corona’s crime rate.
Eugene had a hard time finding a job during season one directly due to his past record, remember? A life of crime he was forced to lead in order to survive, and he’s the Prince Consort! What chance does Dwayne have? Did Rapunzel even try to help him find work or did she just wag her finger at him and told him “Now, now, stealing’s not nice.”
The show wants to act like Rapunzel is this progressive reformer but then they turn her into a Republican instead. That’s not me being sarcastic either, this approach to criminal justice is the foundation of conservative belief and has been for centuries. The right are not interested in why people commit crime. They don’t care about addressing the fundamental problems in society that lead people to break the law. Let alone bother to analyze why those laws exist in the first place. Instead they resort to doublethink and survivor bias to either write off those that fall through the cracks or make excuses for why their policies repeatedly fail, often ignoring the fact that things aren’t actually working for whole swathes of people who aren’t themselves.
Tangled the Series is far too simplistic and childish in it’s approach to deeper subjects like this to enforce the messages it supposedly wants to enforce. Rapunzel herself relies on magical thinking, double standards, and personal bias to see her through every and any problem and the show just rewards her for it rather than challenging her to grow and in doing so winds up supporting people like her in their authoritarian ideas, whether that was the writers’ intentions or not.
In short, Rapunzel shows no interest in putting in the real work it would take to implement genuine restorative justice. She doesn't honestly care about Dwyane or his victims. She’s just posturing here for the sake of her self image.
You’re Not In Any Position to Talk Rapunzel
Speaking of Rapunzel being a hypocrite.... The entirety of season three’s main conflict is her having a petty bitch fight with her supposed best friend and needlessly dragging everyone else into it.
In fact that’s the whole show. Rapunzel repeatedly failing to get along with other people because she’s deep down a shitty person despite the veneer of ‘friendliness’ she slaps on to hide it. Having her just say she knows better does nothing to convince me that she’s actually learned anything. You have to show that she’s learned it first, and that requires acknowledging her own wrong doings.
Varian’s face here just tells it all. Rapunzel is full of shit and no one in the show knows it better than him. Why are they even friends again? Why should we trust her with the three kids she neglected more than once? Why should any of these people take what she says seriously?
Well This is Contradictory
Also, since we brought up double standards, here’s Varian undermining that whole “jail is bad” thing Rapunzel is trying to push with Dwayne and later with Cass. Not only is the show under cutting it’s themes for a joke, but it just reinforces the abuse Varian received. He’s now bought into Frederic’s stupid beliefs and winds up reinforcing to the audience that that his ‘reform’ was due to his past imprisonment.
As an adult watching this series, Varian’s supposed redemption continues to increasingly look like a victim complying with their past abuser out of fear of further harm rather than anyone genuinely learning to be better.
Can We Please Stop Infantilizing the 16 Year Old
As if to deflect from Varian’s past mistreatment and continuing parentification, the show then goes on to showcase the opposite extreme whenever possible. I know it’s hard to tell just from these few screen shots alone, but over the course of season three Varian is spoken down too and treated condescendingly by the rest of the cast, and by Rapunzel in particular, even as he enters his later teens/early adulthood.
Some of this is just to due to Rapunzel being her usual holier than thou self, but there’s also times, like here, where Varian is lumped together with the actual children of the show, even though he’s 6 to 8 years their senior.
In fact out of everyone Rapunzel interacts with, Varian’s actually the closest to her in both age and development. Queen for a Day forced the two of them into a power imbalance due to a mixture of classism and society’s ongoing unhealthy (and often artificial) divide between younger and older teens, but as we get further and further away from that point in time and as Varian nears the same age Rapunzel started out as, that imbalance becomes less and less relevant.
Look at how this scene is framed, He’s standing between Angry and Red and is placed lower than them to make it look like he’s one of them. He’s not.
Varian may still look 12 with his big old eyes and short stature, but seeing as how we’re past Hearts Day, he’s actually close to being 17, if he isn’t already. The timeline gets even wonkier after The King and Queen of Hearts, but trust me, we’re close to being two years past Queen for a Day, if not more so.
Varian, for all counts, should be Rapunzel’s equal by now in terms of story. Not only is he closest in age to her, but he’s also the only other person going through a coming of age arc. And of the two, Varian’s the one who has actually learned and grown as a person. He has more real world experience than Rapunzel ever will and knows how to implement that experience. (He’s also the more mature, but that’s more of a failure to write Rapunzel competently than a reflection of his capabilities.)
No matter how you slice it, Varian shouldn’t be taking orders or advice from Rapunzel; no one should be, really; and he most certainly shouldn’t put up with her condescension. Rapunzel is not his nor anybody else’s mother. She’s not even a big sister like figure, and at no point should be treated as the leader of anything or anyone.
Rapunzel is a Poor Man’s Rose Quartz
I typically try not to draw too many comparisons between Tangled and other shows outside of the occasional parallel, as a show should be able to stand on it’s own for good or for bad, but it’s hard not to discuss the series without also discussing Steven Universe in some way.
Steven Universe is this generation’s Batman the Animated Series or Scooby Doo. It’s the game changer that everybody else is trying to copy in some manner. Chris desperately wants Tangled the Series to be the next Steven Universe, right down to how the show is structured, paced, and what themes are presented. But unfortunately Chris has no idea why Steven Universe works the way it does.
For starters SU adjusted it’s pacing as it went along, smoothing out its rougher edges while Tangled doubled down on its filler. SU had a planned arc from the get go and stuck to it, so that by the time the twists came they made sense. SU kept it’s focus on Steven purposefully so that the story unfolded from his view point while making to sure to acknowledge the importance of other characters around him and their conflicts. It didn’t make him infallible nor shove aside everyone else’s arcs.
But most importantly, Steven Universe was written by a bisexual nonbinary person who set out to make a show for people in the queer community like themselves. Meanwhile, as a middle aged white man, Chis hasn’t a damn clue about his primary audience and has shown no interest in connecting with them.
This isn’t to say that Steven Universe is a perfect show. No show is beyond criticism. Nor is this to say that straight white cis men can’t write; many of them do and can portray characters unlike themselves competently enough. But if you’re completely disinterested in other points of view than you can’t be a good writer of fictional stories, that’s just a fact. Because in order to understand proper characterization you need to acknowledge that not every character ever will be like you and that even you’re main heroes will hold beliefs and experiences different from yourself. Otherwise there is no genuine conflict to build off of. Either no one will disagree with each other or the conflict will come across as flat and forced, complete with lopsided bias.
Therefore, in the end, Rapunzel winds up being less of a Steven and more of a Rose Quartz/Pink Dimond. Both are spoiled princesses/co-rulers of a kingdom that mistreats it’s people and anyone outside of it, who rebelled against their guardians, supposedly out of a sense of justice, but really for themselves and their own freedom, only to make things even worse for everyone. On top of that they both accidently harmed their friends, freindzone their best friend while also bossing them around, are condescending to their love interests, is controlling of people who trust them, and throws temper tantrums when they don’t get what they want, oh and neglected someone for an inhumane amount of time.
Even then, Rapunzel winds up being the worst of the two.
The whole point behind Rose was that she is someone whom the main characters place upon a pedestal and as the series went along slowly had the scales fall from their eyes and learned to view her for who she really was flaws and all. By the end, in Future, she is even metaphorically removed from her pedestal when Steven removes her picture from the wall.
Rose also grows as a character, unlike Rapunzel. Her story is deliberately being told to us backwards. The awful person she was in the past was no longer who she was by the time of her death. True she was still flawed, and the consequences of her actions continued on even after her demise, but she actually tried to be a better person. She got called out for her behavior, she wasn’t excused for actions even when the show explained why she did what she did, and she stopped doing harmful actions whenever she realized that they hurt someone.
Greg was allowed to stand up to her and show how she was wrong, and she respected him for it and later fell in love with him because of it. She tried to better control her temper when she wound up hurting her friend. Her failed revolution and her mistreatment of Spinel was actually born from a misguided desire to help, rather than outright selfishness.
Rose Quratz/Pink Dimond is a brilliant fucking character. You may not like her, but you can’t deny that she is one of the most complex figures in children’s media to ever be created. She is real, nuanced, and multifaceted. He role within the story is complicated, messy, and intricate. She is the most well rounded female character I’ve ever seen and she is what I had hoped Rapunzel would be when I first watched season one, only even more so as the actual focus.
I want women in cartoons to be people!
But Rapunzel fails at every turn to follow through with this promise. She is not a deep complex character. She’s not a flawed and complicated heroine. She’s a blank canvas in which the creator can shove his creepy ass views upon. She is never taken off her pedestal, she’s never allowed to be wrong, and she is forced to spout the the creator’s personal bias against other characters.
Rapunzel isn’t a person. She had the chance to be one, but then was reduced to .. to this. As a woman, the treatment of Rapunzel and Cassandra in this show is just flat out insulting.
So What Is the Difference Between Angry and Red Now?
I’m all for character growth, but at this point Angry and Red are just interchangeable. Anything that made them uniquely them has been lost, and they’re now just fulfilling the generic rambunctious little kid trope. Red becoming more assertive shouldn’t mean she stops being an introvert altogether; that’s not how that works. While Angry shouldn’t lose her temper completely just because she’s wiling to open up more.
So Why Dwayne?
I like Dwayne as a character and in truth I don’t mind his existence here, and unlike that werewolf hunter last time he at least was established in a pervious season. But this is still time that could have went to a more important antagonist.
Also notice that Dwyane gets a villain song, but not Lady Caine or Zhan Tiri. Just saying.
Rapunzel Has Not Earned the Role of the Wise Sage and Mentor
Rapunzel has never learned to listen to others. Ever.
On it’s own this might have been a good speech, but when taken in context of the wider story it just makes Rapunzel look like an ass.
A year traveling does not make Rapunzel suddenly all knowing. She is not wiser nor more experienced than anyone else in this scene. She’s also a crappy leader and big fat hypocrite.
Even when she’s technically right, as seen here, she’s still in the wrong because she never follows through and acts upon her own advice; making this whole story pointless in the grand scheme of things.
And that’s the core problem with season three. Rapunzel is shoved into a role she is not designed for and the whole premise of the series runs right off the rails. You’re main heroine in a coming of age story can not inhabit the mentor role. She can not simultaneously learn and grow and be always right while instructing everyone else.
All through out season three Rapunzel is either rendered completely useless in her own damn series, or she utterly fails to fulfill any sort of narrative promise laid out for her while she infuriatingly hijacks the story from more interesting and dynamic characters.
Behold The Only Reason Why Varian was Included in the Episode
Speaking of hijacking things, Rapunzel of course has to get the idea to save everybody, even though what she thinks of isn’t anything special. It’s not derived from her character as an individual nor from all that experience she supposedly has. It’s literally an idea anyone could have come up with and the show just hands it to her in order to justify her exitance.
Meanwhile the character who actually is useful to the plot is sidelined and reduced to just a plot device. And not just here, Varian is rendered practically pointless in all but two episodes in season three, even in episodes that he actually should have more impact in, like the season opener and series finale.
Good writing treats characters as equally contributing to the plot in ways that complements who these characters are.
Ok I’ll Admit That This Line Is Funny
Look, I know this whole review series is about pointing out the negative, and I stand by my opinion that Tangled the Series is one of the worst written shows I’ve ever seen, but I want to make one thing clear.... I do not hate the show. If I hated the show I would not waste my time reviewing it.
Yes the over all writing is shit, but there are a lot of good things to be found in the series beyond just the crap story arc. The humor is usually solid, the animation is gorgeous, the music is a delight, and the majority of the characters are likable even though they don’t develop in the ways that they should. There’s a lot of talent that went into this show and there’s a lot of potential to be had in it’s set up and lore.
Being critical or negative about the aspects of something doesn’t mean you dislike it, or that you’re not a real fan, or that you’re just a ‘hater’, and I actually find TTS to be fascinating because it’s such a mess. I write reviews because they’re fun and because I genuinely think there is something to be learned from Tangled’s mistakes.
So Why Do We Cut Back to Rapunzel Here and Not Varian?
This is such an odd framing choice. Varian is the one who is talking and reacting to what’s happening. It’s his pet that’s in trouble and therefore he carries the emotional weight of the scene, and yet it’s Rapunzel’s shocked face we focus on? Why? What’s the point of that? She has no business being the center focus here. The action does not involve her.
If you wanted to include her for a later set up then why not have both her and Varian present in this shot? Usually I can at least count on the story boarders to frame things better than this, but they really missed the mark here. Unless Chris is just that stupid and petty that he over ruled them and forced Varian out of the scene, but that seems like a pointless fight to pick, even for him.
See This is How you Fulfill a Narrative Promise
The conflict between Ruddiger and Max was set up in season one with What the Hair, then it was reiterated a few episodes ago during The Lost Treasure of Herz Der Sonne, and then it was reintroduced in this episode along with a stated lesson about working together that they needed to learn. By they end of the episode, guess what, they’ve learned to work together. That is how you properly set up and resolve a conflict.
It’s clear from this that the writers of Tangled the Series know the basic tenants of writing and how to fulfill narrative promises. So the fact that they don’t follow through with this in the majority of the show’s episodes and ongoing story arcs just baffles me.
Is it negligence? Is it hubris? Is it incompetent management and editorial mandates? Is it just one asshole ruining everything or is this a failure in the writers room as a whole?
I just don’t understand what the fuck went wrong here. There’s no reason for why the show got as bad as it did. How does the most acclaimed animation company in the world put out such amateurish tripe?
Just... wow.
Now you know why I’m mesmerized by this show. It is a mystery to be solved, like trying to figure out how the crew on the Titanic fucked up so badly or why Hindenburg blew up. You just can’t look away.
Conclusion
Like I said at the start, structurally speaking this is the strongest episode of the season. I personally enjoy Lost Treasure a little more, just because Rapunzel annoys me less in that, but it’s not a bad story. However when you’re best episode in your final season is filler, then you know you’re in trouble.
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Laundry Day. Sero x F!reader
Content warning- Mature humor, Mineta mention, sexual situations, heavy petting.
“Come on! It would be so much fun!” Mina was bouncing on her heels, practically vibrating with excited energy as she tried to convince the group to go along with her scheme.
“So let me get this right.” Bakugo sighed. “You want to do this fucking thrift store scronging thing for Christmas?”
“Yep!” Mina said. “Let’s be real, none of us have a lot of money this year, and this will be a way to have a lot of fun on a budget! It’s simple. Everyone finds the weirdest or most inappropriate thing they can buy for five bucks or less, and then we have a white elephant party on Christmas Eve!”
“White Elephant?” Kirishima asks, tilting his head.
Kaminari nods, jumping in. “Yeah man! Means people take turns picking gifts out of a pile. Or they have the chance to steal a gift someone else already opened. Basically, don’t go picking stuff thinking it will go to a specific person.”
“Is this going to be just us? Or are we inviting everyone? Because I live in curious fear of whatever Mineta would manage to dig up.” You asked from where you were lounging.
Mina blanched while Denki cackled in delight.
“Oh god, we have to invite everyone now! Imagine Midoria’s face! Imagine Iida’s!”
“It’s settled! Party at Bakubro’s!” Kiri cheered.
“Oi shitty hair! Don’t fucking invite everyone over to my place!”
“But you make the best curry! Please? For your bestest friends in the whole wide world?”
“Fuck no!”
“Pleeeeaaaase?” Kiri pleaded.
“NO!”
Kirishima looked around the squad, communicating silently as everyone nodded. As a collective force, you all turned your best puppy eyes at Bakugo. He squirmed, firmly trying to look away from all of you. You all started fake whimpering and whining. You knew you had won when Katsuki’s lips briefly twitched into a smile.
“Alright! Alright! Now stop it, you fucking extras!”
“Three cheers for Bakubro!” Sero exclaimed.
The weeks flew by and before you knew it, the party was upon you. Katsuki had grumbled and bitched the whole time, and yet now was gazing with pride at the absolute spread he had spent the last two days cooking. Everyone had showed up, had gorged themselves, and were now in the process of opening presents. There had been a couple weird mugs, a lamp made out of a deer leg, and Iida had had the misfortune of opening the gift Mineta had brought. Everyone stared in horrified awe at the three foot long, hot pink dildo.
“Are those teeth marks on it?”
“Yep, teeth marks.”
“Mineta, where the hell did you find this thing?”
“I swear I got it at a thrift store! The price tag is still on the base, look!”
“Yep. That’s a price tag.”
“I’m not drunk enough for this.”
“I wanna bite it.”
“Y/N! NO!”
There was a lot of laughter and teasing as the evening continued, gifts continuing to be claimed or stolen at a slow pace. Just about everyone after Iida had tried to steal ownership of the horror dong as it had been nicknamed. Denki had just stolen it from you, so you had to pick a new gift. You pointed toward a box that was rather conspicuously wrapped entirely in tape.
“Okay, someone toss me whatever the hell Sero got.”
The black haired man gave a little fist pump as he snagged the box, walking over to sit next to you as he handed the box over. He casually pressed against your side and slung an arm around your shoulders. “Amiga, I’m honored! You’re going to love it!”
“Yeah, I’m going to love it if I can ever get into it.” You began the process of slowly unwrapping the absurd amount of tape. “Seriously, anybody got a knife?”
A chorus of “no”s replied, no one actually bothering to look for one.
You gave a dramatic groan. “You’re all awful and I hate each and every one of you.”
Hanta gasped and placed a hand over his heart. “Even me, Querida?”
“Especially you, you office supply elbowed freak.” You replied, sticking your tongue out at him even as you snuggled more comfortably into his side.
After a couple more minutes of dramatic whining and tape unwrapping, you finally got the box open, only to reveal the gaudiest t-shirt you had ever seen. It was a nauseating shade of Pepto Bismol pink. There was glitter. And oh god, what the thing said. You started cackling. You held it up for everyone to see, discovering as you did so that this had to be the largest shirt you had seen in your life.
“Ooo, nice one Hanta, that’s really awful!”
“Someone steal this from me, please!”
“No way, Y/N! It’s the perfect addition to your wardrobe!”
���Hermosa! I’m wounded you would get rid of my gift right after opening it.”
“Look at this thing! Fatgum would swim in it!”
You made a show of grumbling, but you stowed the shirt back in its box and enjoyed the rest of your evening with your friends. When you got home quite late that evening, you shoved the box into the back of your closet and didn’t think about it again until almost a year later.
~~~
Today had been the day from hell. You muttered curses to yourself as you stomped down the hallway to your apartment. Work had been harder than usual, the kind of day that made you grateful to make the long commute back home. So of course today would be the day that the subway would be taken over by a villain who had a sludge quirk. Asshole had flooded the cars with the thick, foul smelling, viscous ooze that reminded you of things unmentionable. You and the other passengers had had to scramble to make sure no one ended up in over their head. Lucky everyone had been saved. Unluckily you and many others, you had spent the better part of two hours standing shoulder deep in the muck. It was in your hair. It had soaked your clothes. It was in your underwear. And the icing on the cake was of course it was your friends and neighbors who had rescued you. Of course your crush had seen you when you looked like you had taken up competitive septic tank diving.
It took you three tries before your key actually got in the lock. You shuffled into your apartment and straight for the bathroom. Grimacing as you peeled your clothing off, you unceremoniously chucked everything into the hamper before stepping into the shower and turning the water as hot as it would go. You stayed in the shower for over an hour scrubbing and rescrubbing every inch of you. With great reluctance, you eventually stepped out of the shower, reaching for a towel. You lazily dried yourself off as you walked into the bedroom, intent on putting on pajamas and pretending you didn’t exist for the next several hours.
You opened your underwear drawer only to be filled with a deep sense of dread. Empty. Your pajama drawer? One pair of extreme booty shorts that say “creepy” on the butt. Your t-shirt drawer? Empty. Your closet? Empty. Frustrated tears threatened to slip down your cheeks as you realized that the shorts were the only clean item of clothing in your apartment. You had been meaning to do laundry for a while, but you hadn’t realized that it had gotten this bad. As much as you hated to, you were going to have to do your laundry tonight. You put the shorts in and looked through your closet again, desperate enough to find a sheet to try and fashion into a toga when you spotted a rather bedraggled tape covered box. You hadn’t thought about your ridiculous white elephant gift in several months, but now? Well, it technically was a shirt. It certainly would cover you better than an improvised sheet toga. Before you could think twice about it, you opened the box, grabbed the shirt, and slipped it on.
The shirt swam on you, going past your butt. The color was bad, and you winced at the image on the front. But, you were now decent enough to venture down to the building’s shared laundry room. So, after grabbing your hamper, detergent, and quarter jar; you did just that.
You hummed the Mission Impossible theme to yourself as you descended the stairwell to the ground floor. Most of your friends lived on this level, but chances were they were fast asleep at this time of night. You were glad of that as you hurried along. You really didn’t want to run into anyone wearing your current getup. It took several minutes to sort your laundry into a few machines and get everything started. You were leaning against the last machine in the line, debating going back to your place or just staying here when you heard something that made you freeze. Upbeat whistling that was growing closer each second. You knew that whistle You did not want to see the owner of that whistle right now. You had already been embarrassed in front of crush today, you really didn’t need him showing up for round two. You were debating how quickly you could scramble into a dryer to hide when Sero Hanta entered the room.
He briefly glanced your way. “Hey Y/N! I figured I might see you here. I’ll admit I’ve seen some shit, and that was gross even by my standards. I wanted to ask how you were doing. Make sure you weren’t injured or any…”. He trailed off when he finally registered what exactly you were wearing. His grin turned positively feral as he set his own laundry bag to the side.
“My, my, my.” Sero gave a rumbling chuckle. “Whatever do we have here?” Sero’s eyes could sweep up and down your body. His signature grin grew wider as his gaze lingered on your t-shirt clad chest.
You crossed your arms, attempting to hide the gigantic image of a lime green, glittery, prancing unicorn proclaiming “I’m horny!” What were the odds that someone else would be washing their clothes at two in the morning? Apparently changes were pretty damn high, you thought as you leveled a half hearted glare at your friend and neighbor.
“It’s laundry day, Hanta, don’t read into it.”
“But Hermosa! How can I not? The first time I see mi corazón wearing the gift I so painstakingly chose for her?” He waggled his eyebrows as his trademark teasing grin spread over his face.
You blushed, turning your head to the side and refusing to look at him.
“You’re full of crap, Cellophane. It’s been a really shitty day, and this was literally my only thing to wear.”
Sero nodded and hummed, turning to put his own laundry in the machines. “Si, si. It was a rather difficult time, it looked like. And you okay though? Not injured? I didn’t get a chance to catch up with you after the fight was over.”
You groaned, tilting your head back and covering your face with your hands. “I’m afraid I got a nasty case of extreme embarrassment and took a heavy blow to my pride. Of course you fuckers had to be the heros on duty for that whole debacle.”
Hanta looks at you seriously as shoves disorganized armfuls of laundry into the nearest machine. “I’d rather it be me saving you than anybody else, Querida.”
You let your hands fall to your side with a disgruntled sigh. “Why? So you can witness all the embarrassing situations you can blackmail me with?”
“Well now that you mention it, yes.” Sero dumped an obscene amount of soap into the washer before turning it on. “However,” he purred in a sinful voice that startled you. He stalked toward you like a hungry jaguar. He stalked toward you like a hungry jaguar. Squeaking, you inched away from him until the back of your legs were pressed firmly against the cold metal of the washing machine. Hanta leaned over your retreating frame, placing an arm on either side of you, caging you in. “Querida mia, I want to always be able to make sure you are safe.”
You placed your hands on his chest, halfheartedly trying to shove him away.
“That’s very touching. Now get out of my personal space.”
“But Querida,” Sero murmured, his voice going low and sensual, moving closer until your hips pressed against each other. “There’s nowhere I’d rather be than your personal space. Si supieras las cosas que quiero hacerte...”
With him so close, there was nothing you could do to disguise the shiver that ran through you at his words.
“Oh? What’s this?” Sero said. His large hands traveled to your hips, his long fingers finding their way under the hem of your shirt to tantalizingly stroke your skin. He leaned forward, voice turning to a growl with his mouth next to your ear. “Hermosa likes me speaking Español, hmm?”
You bite your lip before giving in and nodding.
“Well, in that case… Taco supreme!”
The fingers that had been stroking your skin suddenly became deadly, horrible tickle weapons; digging into your sides and moving rapidly. You shrieked with surprised laughter, thrashing from side to side as you tried to escape. However, Hanta’s large frame and firm hips kept you pinned against the washing machine as his traitorous fingers continued their assault. He continues to tease in between his own laughter. “Nachos grande! Cinnamon Twists! Quiero Taco Bell!”
Tears are streaming down your cheeks as you wheeze and slap at his chest. “Stop! Stop! You horrible man!” He gets in a few more tickles before he does stop, wrapping his arms around you, pulling into a tight hug as you both take a few moments to pant and calm your laughter. He nuzzles your neck before asking softly, “Feel better?”
You nod, just enjoying his warm body wrapped around you.
“Y/N?”
“Yeah?” Your voice just as soft as his, one of your hands finds its way up to stroke his hair.
“I’d really like to kiss you right now.”
“Please.” You whisper softly, tugging at his hair just enough to encourage him to move his head back. Your lips find each other, cautious and gentle at first. Then, Hanta nips at your lower lip, and you let your mouth fall open with a whimper. The kiss is hunger and passion, and heat. Tongues wrestling, teeth lightly biting and teasing each other as hands roam and grope. Sero’s hands find the back of your thighs and soon he’s lifting you, setting you down on the edge of the washing machine. He presses himself between your spread legs, bucking against you, and you can feel his hard length teasing you through your clothes.
“Wanted this so long. You have no idea how long. Y entonces hoy estaba tan preocupado por ti. Cuando vi que estabas en peligro, quise matar a ese villano y encerrarte donde nunca más estarías en peligro.”
“Me too. Wanted this so long, but didn’t think you felt the same. Now get back here and kiss me like you mean it!”
He happily complied, his lips fitting over yours as if they had been made to be placed together. The kisses and touches didn’t stay innocent long, his hands finding your breasts through your shirt, teasing and pulling at your nipples. One of your hands traveled down to stroke the obvious bulge that was rutting against you. Between his thrusting and the vibrations of the machine you were sitting on, your shorts were becoming visibly soaked. His fingers found their way up a leg hole and he moaned sinfully when he found there weren't any undergarments keeping his touch from your soaking folds. It was your turn to smirk, pulling away from his kisses to whisper in his ear.
“I told you, Darling. Laundry day.”
“Amore, you’re going to be the death of me.” He groans, shoving his face into your cleavage as he slips a finger into you.
You laugh breathlessly. “You better not die on me, Hanta. What I have in mind will be much less fun if you’re dead.”
“HOLY FUCK!” Shouted a very recognizable voice from the doorway. Your groan was not from pleasure as you rested your head on Sero’s shoulder.
“Piss off, Denki.”
“Hanta’s finally getting some honey! Score man!”
“What’s going on?” Mina’s sleep heavy voice drifted in from the hallway.
“Y/n and Sero are going to Pound Town in the Laundry Room!”
“Denki, en el nombre de Dios, I will kill you if you don’t back out of that doorway and let me finish what I started.”
Bakugo’s voice rang down the hall “No fucking in the goddamn Laundryroom!”
Kiri’s voice soon followed “Take it easy, Tsuki! They can clean up when they’re done! Get some guys! You need condoms?”
Sero sighed deeply, pulling his hand out of your pants as your shoulders shook from silent laughter. “I think, Hermosa, we can agree no fucking in front of the friend group?”
You nodded, laughing as you jumped down from your washing machine perch. “Not until the third date at least.”
Sero moaned softly, not expecting the way that statement had made his cock twitch. Acting quickly, he scooped you up, and threw you over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. “My room. Now.”
“Ooo, Caveman Hanta. Sexy.”
Denki jumped to the side to let Sero pass, calling after you “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t!”
You called back “Well, I’m going to do Hanta, so what does that say about you?”
Sero’s hand came down on your bottom with a firm smack as he continued down the hallway and around the corner, taking you two toward his apartment and out of sight.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Spanish guide-
Amiga- Friend
Querida- Darling
Hermosa- Beautiful
Querida mia- My darling.
Si supieras las cosas que quiero hacerte- If you knew the things that I want to do to you
Y entonces hoy estaba tan preocupado por ti. Cuando vi que estabas en peligro, quise matar a ese villano y encerrarte donde nunca más estarías en peligro.- And then today I was so worried about you. When I saw that you were in danger, I wanted to kill that villain and lock you up where you would never be in danger again.
Hey guys! Pan here, hope you enjoyed it. It’s been quite a while since I’ve put any of my fanfic out there, so please be gentle with me. I just used Google translate for the Spanish, so I’m sure some of it is very wrong. If you have corrections, please feel free to send them my way! Also, if you see any triggers that need tagging please let me know. I also accept constructive criticism, and appreciate having spelling and grammar mistakes pointed out. Also want to take the chance to answer this question ahead of time-
“The fuck is up with the dildo?!?!”
The Dildo of Doom is based on real events. That actually happened. One of my former sorority sisters found the dong of death at a thrift store. It did indeed have teeth marks on it. Human teeth marks, I should clarify. Truth is stranger than fiction.
I have to thank @reinawritesbnha for helping me edit some clunky sections. If you aren’t already familiar with her work, please check her out!
Taglist- @reinawritesbnha @nkjktk
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Some of my doodles for Session Six of our Call of Cthulhu game!! We finally got back up with that potion-maker from Last Loop and tried to explain EVERYTHING to her, since she’s the one who seemed the most ready to believe us last time (Also, we saw her voluntarily possessed by a spirit at one point, so it seemed like it would be a good starting point to explain some of our problems).
This went.... chaotically, as there are 0 tells for who’s talking and everyone was very insistent on contributing to the conversation. The alive versions of Sammy and Joey mostly stayed out of this mess.
ALSO!! WE’VE PICKED UP SOME NEW INSANITIES! Henry has a mania that compels him to draw/document everything he learns (in case we lose memories or loop again), Sammy still has the mask thing, Joey’s picked up an obsession with symmetry after witnessing his body horrifically transformed by a corruption across half of it, and Sammy, after seeing the Star Pool lurker’s indescribably horrible non-ink-demon form, is filled with a terrified respect for it and has become strangely deferential. I DID NOT EXPECT SAMMY’S SANITY DROPS TO LINE UP SO PERFECTLY FOR CANON PROBLEMS,
Anyway, have some more out-of-context quotes!! Some of these are just conversation because imagining people trying to hold a conversation with three different voices coming out of “Henry” is my favourite thing now.
[Sammy is played by me, Joey is played by Boo (inkyvendingmachine), Henry is played by Maf (inkcryptid), and Thren (haunted-hijinxer) is our GM!]
[Sammy] *summarising* (So we're gonna run by Josephine and see if she has anything that maybe we should know, uh, based on our current predicament, which has gotten even more complicated than the previous time we talked to her, which hasn't happened yet!)
[Alive!Sammy] Is something wrong?
[Henry] No! No, everything's fine. Let's go.
[Alive!Joey] ...I don't think anything's been RIGHT for a while...
[Sammy] (Are we, as a, uh, unit -- do we have the mask on?)
[Ghost!Joey] There's... three of us in here?
[Ghost!Sammy] Sure, that's a normal thing to say!
[GM] Josephine looks like she is trying to figure out what to say, but she is having... trouble.
[Ghost!Joey] Have you ever had someone... hang out with you... during the festival? Like, kind of, possession?
[GM] She raises an eyebrow, but nods, and says "Yes, that's part of my duty, as a leader of this religion."
[Ghost!Sammy] Fantastic. That seems to be happening to us.
[Ghost!Joey] We're not, exactly sure how we managed to get... in the past again... but we're -- *points with Henry's non-sketching hand over at the live ones*
[Joey] Live!Joey just confusedly shrugs and sips his coffee.
[GM] "...Uh, go back a minute."
[GM] "And you don't know how this happened?"
[ghost!Joey] Not exactly? I --
[Henry] Sammy fell into a Star Pool, and Joey got killed, or, was a host for the cultists.
[ghost!Joey] I don't know if I got killed, but,
[Henry] Well, you looked goopy.
[ghost!Sammy] I don't know what was going on with me, either; I still seemed to be running around.
[Henry] Also very goopy.
[ghost!Joey] So, that's a confusing answer! Um. Let's pretend *points at alive!Joey* that he didn't listen to you, and he went up to the Star Pools anyway, without the potion, and then something happened up there that resulted in whatever is happening to us now, which included us losing our memories and waking up later as the same... entity, but we didn't know for a while, and.... uh... it looks like the last time we saw our bodies that weren't alive and human still, they looked... corrupted by the Star Pools.
[ghost!Joey] Do you know what might've happened to cause all that?
[GM] "...I think there's a lot to unpack there," she says.
[GM] And, indeed, one of them has turned up a pair of gloves! It's somewhat worn, but they don't have holes or anything. Though they might not match your ensemble.
[Joey] As long as they match each other, that's fine!
[GM] They do that.
[Sammy] (I mean, Henry has-- not to rag on Henry's fashion sense, as a man who's worn nothing but the same shirt and suspenders for twenty years, but Henry doesn't have much of an ensemble going on, really.)
[chatting while Joey's player steps away for a moment]
[Sammy] Sorry for making you guys deal with Alive!Sammy; Ghost!Sammy genuinely doesn't know how to argue for this.
[Sammy] It's like, yeah I dunno! Sounds like a raw deal!
[Henry] Henry also doesn't know how to argue for this, it's like, Hey! Do you want a whole bunch of awful, horrible, terrible memories? ....No? Oh.
[Sammy] CANT IMAGINE WHY!!
[Sammy] Like, please? I'd like my body back? ...it's your body, we'd be sharing it-- but not like this situation, uh,
[Henry] Just please, take... I have... take Sammy back.
[Sammy] Could you take this off of my hands, I'm really tired of dealing with it,
[Henry] I love 'im. But I need a break. Please come take your lost.... self.
[GM] Your wayward self.
[Henry] Who's this sassy lost child.
[Joey] *re-entering chat* Ah, we're talking about Sammy.
[Sammy] OH MY GOSH.
[Henry] I ROLLED A ONE HUNDRED!
[Sammy] Henry is VERY tired and distracted.
[GM] Henry's sketching again. He was left unattended for a bit and he's sketching again.
[Henry] Yup,
[Sammy] *sputters* HE CAN'T BE LEFT UNATTENDED, WE'RE BOTH HERE
[Joey] HE LITERALLY CAN'T!!
[Sammy] THAT'S THE WHOLE PROBLEM!! SAMMY WOULD LOVE TO LEAVE HENRY UNATTENDED!!!
[Sammy] Is the voice familiar?
[Joey] Is it the Lurker's?
[GM] A bit...?
[Henry] A bit familiar or a bit like the Lurker's?
[GM] ...Yes.
[ghost!Sammy] Joey, what do you think it was?
[ghost!Joey] I think it has something to do with our situation, and perhaps the fact that--
[ghost!Sammy] "OUR SITUATION" doesn't really clear anything up, that could be a LOT of things right now!
[Sammy] Sammy doesn't want to be back in the actual time we belong in! He's dead in that one!
[Sammy] I guess it's also Alive!Sammy's turn. I don't, uh,
[Sammy] ...there's too many Sammys,
[Joey] (Alive!Sammy just goes WHAT THE FUCK)
[Sammy] Yeah, I don't think he's prepared, when he turns the corner, to find cultists with swords, and Henry immediately drawing a gun and screaming at them; I don't think he's prepared for any of this, or has a game plan for what to do in case this happens, other than just, yelling, “WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!”
[GM] at Henry, or the cultists?
[Sammy] ....BOTH????
[Joey] Does Joey know of any way to interrupt magic?
[GM] Injuring someone is a good, classic way to do that.
[GM] So, you can do an attack, whether it's with the gun or with your fists!
[Sammy] *flipping through character sheet* I mean, I feel like I'm probably not just shooting him, I-- wHEN DID YOU ADD "DUSTPAN" TO MY WEAPONS???
[Sammy] The idea of Joey just continuously accidentally killing people is REALLY funny to me.
[Sammy] This is going MUCH better than the last time that we fought anybody!
[Joey] Apparently Joey just needs to be really angry, and then my dice are like, “yeah, you can kill people.”
[GM] *flipping through the rules* Here we go, "Disrupted spellcasting, for example, if they are shot!" Well, okay then--
[GM] ......ohhh.
[Sammy] Uh,
[Henry] "Oh?"
[GM] HM! ........ let me get a d8.
[Henry] Concern...????
[Sammy] It's probably fine. It's... it's probably fine.
[GM] ........
[GM] Uh..... huh. Well. That's an 8.
[Sammy] On the d8.
[GM] Yyyeah,..... you disrupted his, casting,,, it's not a serious spell so most of this stuff is not extreme, but I rolled an 8, and that says,
[GM] "A mythos monster is accidentally summoned."
[Sammy] WHAT??
[Henry] WHAT???
[Sammy] WHAT????
[Joey] *dying of laughter in the background*
[Sammy] I DIDN'T KNOW THAT WAS AN OPTION??? OKAY!!!
[GM] I didn't think it was, at this level of spell!!
[Sammy] Remember when I said that this was going well? I NEED TO STOP SAYING THINGS.
[Joey] How is Sammy putting on the mask?
[Sammy] With his.... hands...?
[Joey] No, like, how is it laying on his head,
[Sammy] OH.
[Joey] Ghost!Joey would like to turn it so it's like, in the middle of his head. But like, on forehead, so that they can still see.
[Henry] (A fancy visor!)
[Sammy] (...you can still see if it’s on the side...)
[Joey] (Joey would really like it if we, put it in the middle.)
[Sammy] (...I FORGOT YOU HAVE A SYMMETRY THING)
[GM] You felt, when Sammy and the cult leader were both giving the Lurker commands, that there was a kind of tug-of-war going on there, and it seems like the cult leader won that round.
[Henry] Wait, we can give the Lurker commands?
[Joey] We're allies.
[Sammy] Yeah, we're the host.
[Henry] Oh, um,
[Sammy] Sammy asked it for help! It didn't, uh... this is how things always go for Sammy, so, I feel like this is correct.
[Sammy] (...Henry pulls out a gun, someone tries to grab him and he just bashes that person over the head, Joey tries to help by shooting this cult leader to stop him from casting a spell, and this horrible weird bendy monster is unleashed, Henry IMMEDIATELY kneels to this creature, and it starts listening to him, and he grabs the amulet and starts directing it to murder people after pulling the mask down over his face, so, yeah!! I can see that being pRETTY UNSETTLING actually!!)
[Joey] And I've already accidentally summoned a demon, somehow!
[GM] This is just how Joey rolls, he just aCCIDENTALLY SUMMONS DEMONS, apparently! Even when OTHER PEOPLE are casting spells, Joey finds a way to accidentally summon a demon!
[Sammy] We do need those; those ARE our bodies running away,
[Lurker, when asked if he can shapeshift] It depends on the host! I didn't do this. It's pretty awesome, though! I feel like this is actually something that was designed to be this way, for the first time I can remember! Deliberate, you know what I mean?
[Henry] “Yeah!” Henry says, not knowing what he means.
[Sammy] We're very focused on getting out of here.
[Henry] We're channeling Wally Franks!
[Sammy] NO! Don't channel Wally Franks! He didn't get outta there he just YELLED ABOUT IT, which is what WE'RE DOING RIGHT NOW!! LET'S ACTUALLY GET OUTTA HERE!
[GM] You guys go around a corner that at least obscures you from immediate sight, though it's good the Lurker is as, uh......
[GM] ........
[GM] ........
[GM] ...uh, for lack of a better word, bendy as he is,
[players explode with laughter]
[GM] I TRIED, I couldn't think of anything else!
[Sammy] NO I SAW THE GEARS TURNING IN YOUR HEAD
[GM] You have a small Bendy.
[GM] He's blinking.
[Henry] Henry is.... is having, a moment,
[Sammy] We're honoured you're joining us, but we really should get moving?
[Henry] Just let him ride on his shoulders like a kid, that'd be adorable!
[Henry] Henry's having SO many emotions right now. He wants to be respectful, but also, oh my god, that's so cute?? and also my OC???? Oh my god??????
[GM] I don't think the Lurker is familiar with the concept of piggyback rides. I mean if he's asked I'm sure he's down for whatever, but,
[Henry] Henry's gonna ask the Lurker if he wants to climb on his shoulders and ride.
[GM] The Lurker thinks this is a FANTASTIC idea, because nobody has ever carried the Lurker around before!
[Alive!Sammy] Sammy's very pale.
[Alive!Joey] You have a... Bendy now, Henry...?
[Henry] Uh, kinda! This is the Lurker.
[Alive!Joey] “The Lurker”?
[Henry] The giant monster? He's... small now, so he's not a giant monster.
[Alive!Sammy] Henry WHAT is going on? Or, whoever you are right now,
[Henry] It is me; look, I've been letting the others talk because I have no idea what's going on. I don't know... I just want to get everyone out of here alive.
[GM] (What a Henry thing to say)
[Alive!Sammy] *snarking* Well, we're alive SO far! Maybe don't run at people with swords, in the future? Might help with that.
[Henry] That was Sammy. That wasn't me.
[Joey] (*laughing* "By the way, that thing you were lecturing me about? That wasn't me, THAT WAS YOU!")
[GM] The Lurker settles down when it is clear that the hug is not a threat.
[Henry] (I AM LOSING IT! I hope you know what you've done to me!)
[GM] (I was not expecting this either but here we are!!)
[Henry] (Maybe it was my idea. I can't believe I've done this.)
[Joey] Alive!Joey at some point shows Bendy how to hold the pencil.
[GM] He says "Oh, hey, neat!" and has an easier time.
[Henry] Oh my god, cute?
[Sammy] (*losing it in the background*)
[Joey] I was just thinking that if he's sitting next to Henry, and he watches the Lurker fumble with the pencil enough, he's going to just, reach up and--
[Sammy] (I LOST NINE SANITY TO THIS ASSHOLE!!!)
[Henry] (But he's so cute!)
[Joey] (Well now he's cute, maybe you get some sanity back!)
[Henry] (Like petting a cat! You get sanity back from petting the Bendy.)
[Sammy] (Yes, he is adorable, I will serve him faithfully.)
[GM] Make a navigate check.
[Joey] *rolls terribly* Joey doesn't know where the fuck we're going.
[Henry] I missed the navigate check too.
[Sammy] Ohhhh boy, we better not get lost...
[Joey] Sammy, do you remember where we're going?
[Sammy] Oh, don't ask Sammy. Don't ask either Sammy.
[Sammy] Alive!Sammy will eventually ask "You DO know where we're going, right?"
[GM] You guys..... uh, get lost! Well, let me check one thing.
[GM] *rolls*
[GM] ... THE LURKER, APPARENTLY, CAN GET YOU BACK TO WHERE HE APPEARED,
[GM] What a useful pocket demon.
[Henry] I love our pocket demon.
[Joey] I love our son...
[Sammy] Joey,
[Joey] Firstborn...
[Henry] Adopted from a cult!
[Joey] We went to Haiti and adopted a son.
[Sammy] Sammy's role as third wheel here is getting weirder and weirder.
[Sammy] I can't believe Binoculars is a Bendy fan.
[Joey] (Meanwhile, Ghost!Joey remembers something? There is an inscription on the floor between the laundry room, and Josephine's room, that does not allow the passage of evil spirits. I... don't think the Lurker is going to make it past that.)
[Henry] (Ohhhhhhhhh)
[Sammy] (Hmm. Also... BRINGING THE LURKER in to see Josephine feels, hostile???)
[Henry] (OH... I didn't think about that; he's just my kid now!)
[Joey] (I have literally no idea for Joey.)
[Sammy] (Gosh, what a thing to ask... I just have to appreciate, what a thing to ask a Type Three -- "Okay, what's YOU?")
[Joey] (Joey looks down at the mask, feeling all of his inner masks,,,)
[Sammy] ("I'M COMPOSED OF THINGS THAT MAKE OTHER PEOPLE THINK IM SUCCESSFUL,,,")
[Ghost!Sammy] After you.
[Ghost!Joey] Actually, I would feel more comfortable if you went first,
[Ghost!Sammy] ...Fine. Fantastic.
[Joey] (This is-- I don't know if Sammy can feel it, but this is definitely out of, still thinking about the slight guilt that ran through him when Sammy was blaming EVERYTHING on him, and telling him to keep them out of this,)
[Sammy] (I mean, Sammy just thinks this is risky and wanted Joey to be the guinea pig, so, that's nice that you were thinking of him!)
[Sammy] A quick kiss won't be enough time for Sammy to like, stop bluescreening in time to react to this? So, um, uh, he- he just, uh, needs, uh, a- a minute, but he, will be, blushing furiously. I think that's the only reaction!
[Joey] Perfect~
[GM] The spirit lady probably flashes him a thumbs up.
[Joey] *laughing* Sammy DIES. We did all of this to get him alive again, and he just DIES.
[Sammy] SLAIN INSTANTLY.
#call of cthulu: haunted hijinx#when in doubt just keep drawing#sammy lawrence#joey drew#Henry Stein#I get way too much of a kick out of non-henry Henrys#i wanna draw so many of these convos but like ITS ALL JUST ONE GUY#TALKING TO HIMSELF
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Please Hate Me //part 47
Fandom: Marvel
Summary: Based on: “Imagine having a love/hate relationship with Loki.” by @thefandomimagine Who would have thought that babysitting a god could be so much fun?
Genre: slow-burn, enemies to lovers, banter
There are few things better suited to following a great summoning ritual than stalking a kindergartener and, quite literally, taking the candy out of his chubby little hand.
"Hey, that's mine!" the brat, Timmy, screamed, but had to watch Loki unwrap the popsicle and munch on it.
"Oh, Timmy," you sighed. "I thought a tough kid like you would handle this better."
"Who the hell even are you weirdos?" Timmy considered ending his question with a kick to the shins of one of you, but decided otherwise under the unnerving gaze of the strange man in a green suit. There was something off about him, that much was certain, but little Timmy couldn't wrap his mind around how otherworldly he actually felt.
He looked around, but none of his friends were around yet, and neither were any adults.
You smiled your beautiful, wicked smile. "Don't fret, Timmy. We've heard all about your deeds, and boy, did we actually love them."
Timmy frowned. His chubby cheeks puffed up just in case it was time to scream. You didn't look like parents of whatever kid he might've recently offended. The pocket money he was getting ;ately from his schoolmates was nothing to worry about. A few bucks here and there weren't a reason for such a direct approach. Okay, those glitter pens he took from that girl last week might cause some bigger stirrup, but she certainly had a different set of parents last time he saw her.
"The hell are you talking about?" the boy settled on a safe approach.
Loki chuckled and leaned down to look him in the eyes. The features of his face started to blur. Timmy frowned, but blinking didn't clear it up. The harder he looked, the more they melted, and molded, and reformed-
"We know what you've been doing, child," the creature's horns grew and curled, just as more and more sets of eyes popped open. "We have our eyes on you."
The shadows deepened, and the world turned colder and eerily quiet. It was the absolute stillness of something deeply unnatural moving right past you.
But Timmy, despite what his teachers might say, was a smart kid. Being a bully and a petty little thief for years without facing actual repercussions of his actions could not be achieved if one didn't know when was the time to run. Timmy knew that time had come and didn't wait for things to unravel any further. His short legs took him surprisingly far in just a few seconds. Loki and you could only watch him go.
"Do you think it'll be enough?" you asked, taking the lollipop from Loki. It was the strawberry flavor. "I certainly wouldn't want to fail our first commission."
"I guess we'll see," Loki shrugged off the spell. "But I'm pretty sure we gave him something to think about. I can send one of the shadows after him to make sure he doesn't pick on our 'client' at school tomorrow. It'll be awhile before they disperse after summoning, so we can make use of them."
"Will they still lead us to the stolen pin though?"
"Without any problem."
And that closed the case. It was a little satisfying, Loki had to admit.
He was still unsure about the pin, though. There was something off about the type of magic he sensed in the box. Faint as it was, the tang of death and rot was still unmistakable and didn't fit in the mental image of SHIELD's safehouse it was supposed to be stored in. It made the chase after the truth more thrilling.
Loki fixed his suit. It was not the type of fashion he usually preferred, but the way you looked at him in it made it worth it. There was nothing as confidence-boosting as being aware that you’re the eye candy for anyone lucky enough to pass.
"Shall we?" Loki offered you his elbow as the shadows gathered and formed a rough doorway. Beyond it, only darkness swelled.
Stepping through it was a fight against condensed mist, but at least it had none of the flesh-shredding quality of Bifrost.
The shadows Loki had called followed the invisible trail of magic the pin left behind after it was stolen. There was little chance of them being wrong or simply misled, Loki had assured you earlier. As beings stuck in a state of half-existence, there was not in the physical realm so often that it could affect their judgement and cover the tracks. Still, even Loki had a moment of doubt when he took in the place the two of you had been led to.
"I think we should've used that chicken," you said, looking around what was unmistakably a forest. A thick, dark, and very old forest. Definitely the type of forest unwelcome to unannounced travelers.
It did not mean you were scared. You were just aware of a certain, thick atmosphere hanging low in the cold, winter air. Somehow, it was darker than it should've been at that hour. The trees loomed over you, their branches twisted and hanging low enough to strangle.
Loki kept on patting your arm while your terror grew, and despite ignoring him for a while, you finally decided to turn.
A thick wall of a hedge, painted in a rotting green and sprinkled with half-melted snow, stood tall and guarded whatever was behind it. The branches were woven too tightly together to take even a peek between them.
"Is that a house? In the middle of a forest?" You asked, but no answer came. There was no road leading to the house. The trees encircled the hedge, but didn't interrupt its space, as if that particular spot had been chopped out of the forest. As if the usual rules of logic and nature didn't apply there.
"Strange," Loki muttered to himself as he walked closer. The hedge ran far in both directions, and from the point you approached it, no gateway could be seen. High above your heads, thin swirls of smoke rose into the air.
"We should walk around and see how to get in." You gestured to the left.
Loki looked up. The hedge loomed a few heads above him. Even if Loki jumped, he wouldn't see above it. He jumped anyway.
And was swallowed by the hedge.
You knew there was something wrong with that forest, and the strange house especially, even before the branches shot out and wrapped around Loki. He only managed a yelp of surprise before he was pulled in towards the impenetrable depth of the bushes. As much as it was reassuring to know that your senses and intuition were as sharp as ever, the time to brag would come later. Using the ace up your sleeve, or rather sword in your pocket, you made quick work of all the choppable branches.
Loki dropped to the ground.
"You could've cut off my hand!" He looked in horror at the cleanly cut piece of his sleeve. It had been a close call indeed.
"Couldn't you regrow it?"
Loki stopped shaking off the twigs for a moment. "I'd prefer not to find out, honestly."
The hedge, despite your trimming, was as impenetrable as before. The only thing that changed was the distance you kept away from it. After not a long discussion, you decided to look for a way in.
The little gate looked suspiciously ordinary. The metal rusted in a few spots, mercilessly beaten by years of rain and humidity. The path beyond it winded between neat rows of herbs and vegetables and occasionally flowers you couldn't name. The scent of fresh soil hung in the air as you walked through them. The house itself was neither big or new, but was most definitely haunted. There was no doubt about it. It was obvious in the way the windows watched you approach. In the way the smoke curled lazily through a draft you couldn't feel. In the doorknob in a shape of a hissing bat.
"Do we… knock?" you whispered. For reasons you couldn't explain, you had a feeling the house was listening to every word.
"That's usually how it goes," Loki's reply was equally quiet. He made no move to knock, though.
A hollow hooting was the only warning before a dark shape swooped by your heads and landed over the door. The owl was big, even once it settled and closed the wings. The feathers, in various shades of grey and muddy brown, hid it almost perfectly against the wooden planks of the house.
It was a nice owl, one might think without looking closely. Because under further scrutiny, one would notice the deep gash only partially hidden by the puffed up feathers, and the bones peeking out underneath them.
You stared at the dead owl and it stared back.
It hooted.
"I know, I said I'm coming!" the voice from inside the house shouted. The footsteps neared. Loki and you braced against whatever you'd have to face.
The door creaked open.
Many thoughts had passed through your mind, but one thing you didn't expect to see was a spotty-faced, alarmingly skinny young man in jeans and a cloud of smoke surrounding him. You got a facefull of an aroma that reminded you of college dorms. You wondered if Loki thought he’d met the wrong end of a skunk.
"Listen," he said, gesticulating wildly. "I know that y'all always want shit, but my grandma is still on her vacation, and I'm currently busy. She'll surely contact you once she's done, but nothing has changed since last time, and I still don't know when she'll be back."
The owl descended majestically and sat on his still raised hand. The man blinked in mild confusion.
"I fed you already, don't give me that look, Barbara."
Loki looked at you. You looked at Loki. The owl turned her head backward and noticed both.
"I might be wrong, but I'm pretty sure this is the first time we're meeting," Loki forced himself to say after your not-so-subtle nudge to his ribs. "Could we bother you for just a moment?"
"I'm busy, I've got a shift tomorrow and—"
Loki barged in anyway, not interested much in whatever the man had to say.
The little house turned out to be more of a cottage. Even though some work had been done to restore it and make use of modern inventions, the very core of the cottage stayed the same as it possibly had been for decades, if not longer.
The herbs hanging from the ceiling to dry filled the air with a pleasant, if a little heavy smell that clung to skin and clothes alike. The huge chimney was full of wooden planks and blasting enough heat from the other end of the large working space to make you regret wearing winter clothing. Whatever was boiling in the huge iron pot hanging over the blazing fire was unlikely to be edible judging by the consistency and color. Or at least you hoped it was not supposed to be edible.
The owl flew in and perched on a chair.
"Listen, I'd really appreciate it if you could leave me alone," the man groaned, following you.
He took another drag and exhaled a cloud of smoke, eyes red-rimmed. The owl hissed and moved over the chimney, where she sat with as close to an angry expression as a half-dead owl was capable of.
To your left, a rather familiar and highly surprising uniform laid along with medical equipment.
"We'll leave as soon as we get the answers we need," you promised. "And our first question is - who the hell are you, exactly?"
The man blinked. "Are you joking? I thought you were clients."
"What would you sell if we were?"
"I mean," he gestured around. "It's my grandma who deals with potions, but I suppose I could give you a medical check up if you need one? And don't worry if you're dying, that's even better, I've got that covered too. Just make sure to come to me before the decay starts, and I'll put you back on your feet in no time."
"Wait, I'm confused," Loki frowned. "Are you a doctor or a necromancer?"
"My dude, I have no idea where you've been the past few decades, but if you think med staff is capable of making a living from just one job, you honestly should get a reality check. Look around - I literally still live with my grandma and don't even get me started on how much debt I still have to pay off with those stupid side jobs."
"You mean, resurrecting pets?" You looked at the owl. Barbara was not blinking.
"Listen, I'm at the point of my life where I don't ask questions. I just need the money. I want to move out. Have you any idea what it is like to live with your 260 year old grandma who has a better social life than you?"
The silence was a little awkward.
"Precisely."
Loki wanted to take a deep, steadying breath, but whatever the young man had been smoking didn't sit well with Loki's lungs.
"I must ask though, are you raising the dead because you're such a terrible doctor, or is—"
"Paperwork."
Loki blinked. "Excuse me?"
"Have you any idea how much paperwork follows every death? I'd rather bite off my hand than do any more extra unpaid time than I absolutely have to." The man sat at the table and produced a stash of pot from somewhere. With slow, precise movements he started to roll another blunt. You bent your knees to see under the table, but couldn't find any hidden drawers.
Loki nodded at the man’s comment, although he was nowhere near possessing that kind of knowledge. Deaths that he usually participated in involved little to no paperwork.
"Was this involved in one of your recent side-jobs?" Loki put the little wooden box on the table.
The man shook it before opening. Only after sniffing it did the look on his face change to recognition. "Yeah, I think it was. I was paid to get a pin from it. I don't know what happened to it afterward, though. The client just paid and disappeared."
"How did you get it?"
"Mice."
"What?" Loki asked. You looked around, just in case.
"No one cares about mice, especially in huge warehouses. That makes them perfect for the job, especially if they're controlled properly."
The dead owl hooted in agreement. Loki had an idea how the mice had been initially caught.
"That complicates our case," he whispered to you.
"Who paid you?" you asked, hoping that the answer wouldn't be...
"I don't know," the young man shrugged. "Some guy in a trenchcoat and lots of shiny money. My favorite kind of a client."
The man suddenly had a few golden coins out and in his hand. You hadn’t even seen his hands go under the table that time. The coins were heavy and most definitely not fake, although you didn't recognize any of the symbols they bore.
Loki did.
"Do you think that agent of yours will cover any extraterrestrial expenses?" he asked, watching the reflexes shine on the golden surface.
"Where are we going?"
"To the biggest black-market-turned-casino-turned-complete-mess of a planet in the universe."
"How lovely," you said.
Barbara agreed, hooting happily as she hopped off the chimney and landed on Loki's shoulder.
"Take her." The young necromancer yawned sleepily. "She hates me anyway. Just remember not to give her any pickles. She's got terrible gas."
#please hate me#loki x reader#loki x you#loki#loki laufeyson#loki marvel#loki imagine#loki laufeyson imagine#loki series#loki mcu#marvel loki#loki fanfic#avengers loki
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Well I promised you a post about my bi Geoffrey Martewall headcanons so here it is guys <3
So…as I previously mentioned in a tag under one of @agapantoblu's posts, I've been half-seriously headcanoning Geoffrey Martewall a.k.a. the best character in the Hypervesum series as a clueless bisexual for... well, for some time. Let's say a year and a half. I've never bothered actually sharing these headcanons online because I didn't really have a clear idea for an actual argument in support of this claim of mine, but now I’m finally ready to put the all the reasons why I get extra-strong bisexual vibes from Geoffrey Martewall into words. Beware…it’s a lot of words :’’)
Exhibit A: Geoffrey and women
1.1. Geoffrey’s taste in women is just too good
Listen. LISTEN. Our man’s taste in women is IMPECCABLE: he could, as Brianna said herself, have chosen to take any young noble maiden as his wife, but he decided to go for a woman that 1) is a couple years older than him 2) is not noble at all and, you know, used to be just a poor paesant before coming to Châtel-Argent 3) already has a son who was fathered by a French knight to whom she was never married and that she had to raise as a teen single mom 4) at the time of their first meeting had a crush on his current worst enemy. LISTEN!!!!!!!! Geoffrey’s taste in women is suspiciously��good, way too good, in fact, to be that of a medieval straight guy. I mean…Ian, a man who comes from the 21st century, fell for the textbook angelic maiden, while Geoffrey literally did not even bother looking around for some young blushing bride and just decided that the hot milf who threatened him with a pitchfork in book 2 was his first and best choice. What an Absolute Fucking King. This choice of his is, in my opinion, very telling of the kind of view he has of romance and women in general.
Which brings me to the next point, namely:
1.2. Geoffrey appears to have an attitude towards women and a view of womanhood that are significantly more modern than those of an average knight of his time
Is it just me or is Geoffrey actually the one with the most… modern mindset out of all the knights starring in the saga? There are a couple of specific scenes that kind of make me think of him as an outlier among his peers, and although some of those are definitely there for the purpose of showing us that Martewall is indeed a rather peculiar knight, others contribute to creating the picture of a character that is almost… out of place in the 13th century?
Allow me to expand a bit further on the “Geoffrey and women” topic: we saw how chivalrous and respectful Geoffrey was towards an unconscious and injured Brianna. First he made sure her son was comfortable with him warming her up using his own body, and reassured him he meant no disrespect by removing her clothes; then, he proceeded to strip her in the most methodical and detached way possible, which let us know Geoffrey respects a woman’s body and modesty the way any proper, courteous medieval man would. But then there’s another, and in my opinion far more interesting, instance in which Geoffrey is seen interacting with a woman: I’m talking about his brief conversation with Blanche of Castile in book 3. Here we see 1) how Geoffrey treats women he is not attracted to (“not attracted to” as in: women he has no interest in romancing), and 2) to what degree he actually respects female authority.
Our first introduction to Blanche is the scene in which Guillaume, Ian and Henri de Bar are talking about her right before the audience in Paris, during which we learn that the vast majority of noblemen do not take her opinions seriously and do not appreciate seeing her talk during political debates. Even Henri de Bar, although he does not mean to be insolent, raises an eyebrow at the thought of a woman participating in conversations that concern military strategy, while Guillaume seems almost amused at Ian’s heartfelt defence of her speeches. Which is why Geoffrey’s brief interaction with her stands out so much: when she starts talking about the war in England with him, he carefully listens to her as if she were just another male superior officer: he does not appear even slightly surprised by her competence, he does not try to dumb down the topic of discussion, he listens carefully to what she is saying, he offers his opinion only when she asks for it and he answers her questions in the most straightforward way possible. At no point during the conversation does he ever attempt to pull the condescending “with all due respect, madame…” to correct or contradict her statements. He is not in courteous knight mode, he is in soldier mode, and is unfazed by the fact that the one he is discussing logistics and war strategy with is a delicate looking princess. Once again, the author is fleshing out Geoffrey’s character by having the protagonist and point of view character draw a direct comparison between him and other men. Martewall does not simply respect women as in “oh I’m a proper knight and I use my blade to protect defenceless maidens”, he actually, genuinely respects women.
Which in my opinion is such an interesting facet of his values and personality: in the second half of book 2, Ian notices how thoroughly Harald Martewall managed to drill the code of chivalry into his son’s head, and remarks on the fact that the Martewalls are all perfect examples of the True Old School Knights. Both Harald and Geoffrey are the embodiment of the honourable, unyielding, upright warrior trope, and they perfectly fit the image we modern people conjure in our minds when we think of a knight of the Middle Ages. This specific aspect of Geoffrey’s set of values gives his character a strong, let’s say “old-fashioned” connotation, and yet said set of values seems to come from an internal source rather than rely on tradition and external rules. He, for example, got rid of his helm and shield when he saw his adversary in combat was not fully equipped, but he also willingly assisted the Dauphin in taking over England despite having previously sworn an oath of loyalty to John Plantagenet, since his sense of honour compelled him to aid the man who provided him with the help he needed to get his home back. Geoffrey is way more likely to base his choices on what his own moral compass compels him to do rather than resort to convention and tradition to tell right from wrong. This makes Geoffrey a perfect blend of both old and modern qualities, and in the context of his relationship with women he tends to lean quite heavily on his more modern side.
Let’s go back to discussing his first introduction to Brianna for a second: he witnesses Brianna express her unrequited attraction to Ian, flirt with him and even mock-kiss him straight on the lips, and yet not only does that not make Geoffrey respect her any less, it also does not concern him at all later in book 3 when the story hints at the fact that he might have an interest in taking her as his wife. This is a rather unusual attitude! I mean, even the exuberant Etienne de Sancerre, who has shown an overt preference for feisty and confident women, grumbles and protests in jealousy when his wife Donna and Daniel greet each other with a hug while out in public, deeming the gesture to be inappropriate. What I’m trying to say here is that this is a man who is waaaaay ahead of his peers in regards to his view of women and womanhood, and who also appears to be very confident in his masculinity (so confident, in fact, that the thought of having to “put women in their place” never once crosses his mind), hence why I keep sensing the most excellent kind of bisexual vibes coming from him.
Exhibit B: Geoffrey and men
2.1 Jerome and Geoffrey’s friendship makes NO sense
And I mean it. Yes, we do read about Ian wondering how two people with such different sets of core values (ok maybe Jerome lacked core values all together lol) could have ever been friends, which means that yes, readers are in fact meant to notice how misguided Geoffrey is in his commitment to honour this bond of friendship and avenge Jerome’s death, but the more I think about this, the more I convince myself that this whole situation is, in fact…really weird.
Let’s start from the beginning: so, Geoffrey’s anger over Jerome’s death is the main source of conflict between him and Ian, and it puts the plot of book 2 in motion. Now, we never actually saw Geoffrey and Jerome talk to each other in book 1 (because at the time of its drafting the author had not yet planned on writing a sequel for it) so all the available details about their relationship (mind you, there aren’t that many) have to be gleaned from Geoffrey’s recollections present in book 2 and pieced back together in order to get a clearer picture. Another fact that should be noted is that we also never saw Jerome talk about Geoffrey (again, because Geoffrey wasn’t really that relevant to the plot of book 1): Geoffrey’s words are the only source available when it comes to trying to reconstruct what their interactions might have been like, which means that our perspective on their friendship is going to be inevitably, extremely one-sided.
So here we go, book 2, chapter 5: Geoffrey has decided to abduct Ian and Daniel and drag them to his home in England to get some answers and avenge Jerome’s death and he currently has Ian at his mercy, so he immediately starts asking questions. He asks why he currently is not home, he asks why his brother has no knowledge of his whereabouts, he asks if his name really is Jean Marc de Ponthieu, and these are all very dangerous questions: they pose a real threat to Ian’s credibility. But then, when Geoffrey asks why Jerome was so certain he was an imposter, Ian breathes in relief, because that means Geoffrey knows nothing about the ambush in Couronne.
But. Wait a second.
How could Geoffrey possibly not know about Couronne? That’s how Derangale KNEW without a shadow of a doubt that Ian and Jean de Ponthieu were never the same person! Dude was busy forging incriminating letters left and right with Ponthieu’s help??? He was the one who helped Ponthieu and Renaud De Dammartin set Isabeau up to be assaulted by Claude de Dammartin??? Geoffrey explicitly says Jerome was obsessed with Ian, so Derangale must have talked his ear OFF with all his incessant rambling about him being an imposter…and Geoffrey did not bother asking him about the details of this weird doppelganger theory of his ONCE? We know how sharp and observant Geoffrey is. We know he is perceptive, and straightforward in voicing his opinions, and not easy to fool. We know he is the type of guy who likes to ask direct questions and get believable, clear answers in return, so he MUST have asked Jerome why he was so sure about the illegitimacy of Ian’s identity. How did Jerome answer? Did he make up a lie on the spot? Geoffrey is equipped with a very functional built-in anti-nonsense super-sensor (the one that allowed him to immediately spot all the places in which Ian’s deception and intentional gaslighting were coming off at their seams even after Ian had managed to convince Geoffrey’s own father that he was Jean de Ponthieu’s second-born son), so if that was the case – if Jerome had indeed tried to make up some story about why he knew who the real Jean de Ponthieu was – Geoffrey (in theory) would have easily been able to tell that he was being lied to.
Do we then have to assume Jerome simply replied with “I just know”? Well…the text implies that this is the most plausible option: as Ian and Geoffrey’s heated conversation goes on, we realize that the only reason Geoffrey believes Ian to be an imposter is…because Jerome said so. And this, in my opinion, says a lot about both Geoffrey’s relationship with Derangale and his current emotional state. Let’s really think about what this little kidnapping stunt of his must look like from an outside perspective: Geoffrey just decided to abduct a man whose identity has been publicly confirmed by Guillaume de Ponthieu, one of the most powerful men on French soil, who also happens to be a relative of king Philippe Auguste (which means Ian has ties to the royal family as well lol???), who ALSO confirmed that Ian is the youngest Ponthieu brother and PERSONALLY BESTOWED the title of Faucon du Roi upon him. Geoffrey does not (currently) have a shred of proof against Ian: he just chose to believe that Ian is some random foreigner who has been allowed to pretend to be a nobleman and marry Isabeau de Montmayeur by the count of Ponthieu and the king of France because that’s what Jerome believed. Jerome stood alone in front of the entire French court, subjecting himself to ridicule, to denounce Ian as an imposter and Guillaume as a liar (and readers know he is 100% right, but look at this from the perspective of one of the characters who are not involved in this intrigue), which are such far-fetched, absurd, ludicrous accusations, even the closest of Jerome’s friends would have demanded at least some evidence in order to give his version of the story some credit. And yet Geoffrey, who has not been given even one crumb of information on the real Jean de Ponthieu’s actual political alignment, simply decided to stand with him against the rest of the world.
And then, Ian starts answering Geoffrey’s questions by telling him all the vile things Jerome did to him, his family and his friends (while still carefully avoiding the Couronne topic): he tells him of his sadism, villany and criminal actions, and Geoffrey does not believe a single word of what he’s saying. He straight up calls all these accusations lies, and he urges Ian to stop insulting a knight of England his peer and a man of honour deserving of respect. Geoffrey refuses to listen to any negative remark Ian has to make and threatens him with violence when he insists on calling Jerome an unworthy man. “Jerome wasn’t a liar”, he says; “he was my friend, and you killed him”. This is exactly what I meant when I said their friendship strikes me as extremely weird: I mean come on, really? Derangale was a textbook piece of shit. He was violent, vengeful, and arrogant, and yet Geoffrey describes him as a “man of honour”??? It almost seems as if he and Ian are not even talking about the same person??? The sadistic felon Ian met in Cairs is nothing like the friend Geoffrey has such a high opinion of. Which can only mean one thing, namely that when he was with Geoffrey, Jerome was on his best behaviour. And in order to have adapted his behaviour to fit Geoffrey’s expectations of a good and honourable friend, Derangale must have had a very clear picture of the kind of person his “friend” was. Jerome knew Geoffrey would never have allowed all that malicious shit to happen under his watch, so he decided to keep all his plotting a secret from him. Geoffrey never was Jerome’s accomplice in aiding Renaud de Dammartin, Ferrand de Flandre and Jean de Ponthieu steal the Montmayeur fief for king John, and therefore has no reason to believe Ian’s words.
There are two things about this situation that strike me as particularly weird. First of all: Derangale wasn’t just witholding information from Geoffrey, he was also hiding his true nature from him. And Geoffrey…never noticed? Geoffrey, who can usually smell bullshit and deception from a mile away, who has no difficulty in telling a man of honour from a felon, who normally would not bother wasting his time being friends with such an insufferable prick, never managed to guess the true nature of Jerome’s character? Huh??? And secondly: why exactly did Derangale ask for help from a guy he was so sure he would never have been able to turn into one of his accomplices he had to actively keep parts of himself and his plans hidden for months up to the battle in Bouvines? What we know, thanks to Harald Martewall, is that Jerome was the first to reach out to Geoffrey back in book 1: apparently, the two of them used to be friends as young boys, then stopped seeing each other for a couple of years until Derangale decided to pick up the phone and give him a call. Geoffrey was in England, minding his own business, when Jerome contacted him to ask if he was willing to join him in Béarne. He, as sir Harald recalls, “was busy raising a cavalry troop for Ferrand De Flandre, and wanted my last-born as champion in a tournament”. It is not difficult to guess why Derangale asked specifically for Geoffrey to join his faction. Martewall is, simply put, the baddest bitch in the area: he is easily the scariest and most skilled warrior out of all the knights we get to meet in the saga, and an experienced tournament champion is precisely what Jerome needs for the little show he has in plan for Béarne. What I really want to know here is: couldn’t Derangale have called for literally any other English knight to help him win? Why did he risk enrolling a guy he knew would never have approved of his schemes and totally could have kicked his ass if he ever found out about his misconduct? Couldn’t he have called for a couple more champions who would have been overjoyed at the opportunity of beating the shit out of all those French knights? Why did it have to be just him and Geoffrey against the ENTIRETY of Philippe Auguste’s lineup? Why was he so confident in his ability to manipulate Geoffrey? Oh AND. This is an information that is nowhere to be found in the actual books but it is something I asked the author to confirm because I was just too curious: Geoffrey…did not have fun in Béarne, like at all. He did not care for the show Jerome wanted to put on, he did not enjoy participating in that display of strength and superiority, and he was grumpier than usual during the whole ordeal. So our man Jerome basically decided to rely exclusively on Geoffrey’s excellence and made him travel all the way to Béarne instead of putting together a slightly larger faction of fellows who could have maybe shared his immoral cause (like hello?????? it’s literally JUST the two of them against ALL the French nobles competing at the tournament lmfao??? I mean ok girl!!! give us drama! give us spectacle!) despite knowing that 1) he would have had to completely alter his behaviour around him 2) he could never have explained to him why he knew with absolute certainty Ian was an imposter and 3) Geoffrey would have intensely disliked being at the centre of theatrics. Like…I get that Geoffrey is your most skilled friend when it comes to the art of jousting, but… his presence is also a bit too inconvenient in this context? I mean really? You didn’t know any other knights in the area who could have been available as champions? You had to call for Geoffrey? Specifically for him? Haha girl ok! (oh and you also saved some of the custom higher quality blades you had made for your squadron to arm Geoffrey? Ok! Oh and you decided to pick Geoffrey as the other leader of your special squadron? Girl Ok!!! The guy would leave your ass in less than a second if he ever found out about your awful crimes so keeping him at your side is quite the risky move, but you do you I guess).
And another thing is, not only did Geoffrey hate every second of that charade, he (and this is also information that I got directly from the author) was downright shocked at Derangale’s unprompted act of violence against the young count of Grandpré… that was something that caught him completely off guard and that left a bitter taste in his mouth. It makes total sense for Geoffrey to feel this way, that’s very in character for him. What actually, really surprises me is Geoffrey’s reaction at hearing Ian mention this particular incident. You were there, says Ian, you saw Derangale attempt to kill a friend of mine with your own two eyes, and yet you insist on threatening me for calling him a criminal and an assassin. And that’s what finally prompts Geoffrey to lay hands on him. He silences him with a slap so violent it almost makes him fall on the ground. Geoffrey reacted with anger and disbelief when Ian was describing him heinous crimes that he never witnessed and did not believe to be true, but only resorted to physical violence when Ian forced him to acknowledge and condemn an action he actually saw Jerome commit. This brief scene alone is enough for me to confidently conclude that Geoffrey is, there are no other words fit to describe his current emotional state, deep in DENIAL. He hears an uncomfortable truth he has no way of denying, he lets that send him into a violent rage, he acts that violence out and then he ends the whole conversation there. He just. Leaves. And he repeats the same exact pattern of behaviour a second time! Book 2, chapter 12: Martewall starts to interrogate Daniel, who tells him about Derangale’s first attempt at kidnapping Isabeau AND manages to have one of his own men confirm his story. Then Geoffrey becomes visibly agitated, to the point he inadvertently breaks the rod he brought to beat information out of his prisoner in fucking two, CHANGES THE TOPIC OF DISCUSSION ON PURPOSE, and then when Daniel insists on bringing the conversation back to Derangale’s crimes he draws his sword, points it at him in another fit of anger and then! He LEAVES!! AGAIN!!! Bro???????????? You keep saying you “want the truth” and yet when you finally get it you cut the conversation off because you don’t like what you’re hearing? Hello???
“You insist on defending him only because you do not want to admit you have been lied to and manipulated by him”, this is what Daniel says to Martewall’s face, and the most articulate rebuttal he is able to come up with on the spot is “that is not true”. He absolutely did not expect to be confronted with such merciless answers, and he has no idea how to cope with Ian and Daniel ripping into the image of the good and honourable Jerome that only exists in his mind, so he just rejects anything negative they have to say and breaks things like a moody teenager.
His behaviour is extremely erratic. For the entirety of the first half of book 2, Geoffrey is clearly not his usual self. His own father tells him he does not recognize him anymore. And when Sir Harald confronts him and makes an attempt at urging him to release Daniel, Geoffrey reacts with something I would almost describe as a…temper tantrum? Sir Harald’s request for an explanation from his son is more than legit: after all, he just learned from Daniel that Geoffrey decided to kidnap a renowned nobleman on a whim, without any evidence of his supposed crimes, WITHIN THE BORDERS OF HIS FIEF IN FRENCH LANDS. That could get them in SERIOUS trouble with both his brother Guillaume de Ponthieu and Philippe Auguste himself, as Salisbury will later remark on. I mean, this action is not only dishonourable, as Sir Harald will be very quick to point out, but also extremely stupid. And Geoffrey is not stupid. Like, at all. He knows when to shut up, his rage is usually under check, he is not prone to acting out in anger or taking rash decisions. But here, Geoffrey is letting his emotions run rampant. His father is being perfectly reasonable, and he replies quite disrespectfully by stating that he is not a young boy anymore and that he will not allow for any reproach o interference on his part.
It should be noted that Geoffrey’s troubled state of mind is not solely the result of Jerome’s death. In fact, in chapter 12, Geoffrey makes it clear why he is so angry and frustrated. He lays out all of his reasons to his father:
“I’ve always done my duty and I lost my honour because of those to whom I owed my loyalty. I fought loyally until the very end, I paid my defeat with imprisonment, only to discover at my release that my name is associated to those of a friend deemed a felon and a king judged a coward; I return to my homeland and I end up on a list of traitors because of you! I am forced to be subject to the last two accusations, but the first…that one I intend to acquit myself from with any means necessary. At this point, I have already lost my dignity as a knight and you are the last person who can reproach me for it, since you are the one who dealt me the final blow”.
Geoffrey’s words reveal that he is also doing all of this for himself. He is now more desperate than ever to prove Jerome was always in the right, since this seems to be the only means of coping with the loss of his precious honour. The thought of having been friends with a felon of this magnitude is something Geoffrey could never, ever tolerate, because what would this say about him as a person? This explains the state of denial he currently is in: he has done something he would normally see as despicable by kidnapping Ian in his own lands, but he could excuse acting like a vulgar bandit if only he managed to force a confession out of Ian and avenge Jerome’s death (have I already mentioned Geoffrey has NO business being mad about Jerome meeting his demise at Ian’s hands? Dude was killed in fair combat. On a battlefield. Ian did not assassinate him or anything of that sort, there simply are NO good reasons as for why Geoffrey could ever want to “avenge” his friend’s death?? like there’s literally nothing to avenge here??? Lol???). And although Geoffrey is indeed defending Jerome’s honour because he feels that his crimes, if proven true, could reflect badly on himself, Geoffrey’s words still betray real attachment and a genuine feeling of affection for Jerome. Ian himself will later recognize their bond as valid by directly comparing it to the sentiment of friendship he shares with Daniel. At the time of Ian’s abduction, Geoffrey did not yet know that he would eventually be forced to fight yet another war once he’d finally reach his home: at that point in the story, Geoffrey’s motives for taking Ian and Daniel as prisoners had little to do with him wanting to gain back the honour he now feels his father tore from him by ordering him to side with him against their king. The primary motivation for his disreputable conduct in chapters 4 to 10 was, in my opinion, grief.
Another thing that I find extremely interesting and that in a way contradicts what I mentioned above about Geoffrey not being able to tolerate the thought of having been friends with a criminal, is that once he starts to come to terms with the proof of Jerome’s misconduct…he never disavows their friendship. What he says once he finally accepts Ian as his friend and lets go of Jerome’s obsession is: “I did everything in my power to honour our friendship, going even beyond common sense”. He never tries to claim they were never really friends or proclaim he wants to cut all ties with such a man. And towards the end of book 3, when Geoffrey and Ian are discussing what Ian’s exile really implicates and Ian is finally forced to admit he never was Jean de Ponthieu, Geoffrey all of a sudden brings Derangale into their conversation to reflect on how Jerome was right all along and how happy he is to learn that he at least did not lie to him about this one specific thing. Well, maybe I’m reading too much into this, but I was expecting him to focus on the sheer amount of lies he had been fed by…you know, Ian, the friend who happens to be alive and whom he is currently confronting. He does not even seem interested in asking Ian to explain himself, it is Ian who apologises to him, completely unprompted. They were having a conversation about Philippe Auguste and Guillaume de Ponthieu wielding the power to destroy his life, and after several beats of silence and intense consideration, what Geoffrey decided to say out loud was “I’m happy Jerome didn’t lie to me about you”? Ummmmmmm ok??????????? Lying to him certainly was not the worst thing Jerome has ever done? What about the many crimes he committed against Ian, his friends and his family? What I’m trying to say here is that Daniel’s argument about Geoffrey having been manipulated by Jerome must have cut deep, since here he is, bringing this up again. Derangale died more than two years ago, and Geoffrey already gave up on trying to redeem his honour and reputation, but he appears to be still in the middle of the process of learning to truly let him go. Dealing with the idea of having been deceived in such a cold way by a close friend to whom he though he owed unwavering loyalty is proving to be challenging. I might be delusional but I can only make sense of the fact Geoffrey brought Jerome into their conversation about Ian only to briefly touch on a strictly personal matter that concerned his own feelings and his private relationship with Ian’s old archenemy if I assume Geoffrey was, at this point in time, still dealing with some very intense and complicated feelings (….furthermore…………it doesn’t…really…make sense…for Geoffrey to be happy about Jerome telling him that Ian’s identity was a hoax…since the whole point of telling him that…was getting his help in destroying Ian and not really “being honest” with him…like…Geoffrey, love, why are you so desperately hanging on to these miniscule scraps of “““honest and genuine interactions”””, why do you still treasure this literal MICROSCOPIC CRUMB of “““sincerity””” on Jerome’s part…hello…………………???). Sorry but this whole Jerome/Geoffrey mess just exudes one-sided, unfulfilled and unacknowledged tenderness in copious amounts once you really start to read into it. My personal interpretation of the situation is that Geoffrey is having such a hard time trying to make sense of the extent of Derangale’s manipulation and condemning him as someone who was always undeserving of his friendship and devotion because he completely lacks the tools to properly analyse and interpret his own feelings on the matter.
2.2 Geoffrey and Ian vs Geoffrey and Jerome
I’m touching briefly on Ian and Geoffrey’s friendship dynamics in book 3 mainly because I think that their relationship will provide me with some good clues and parallels that could be of help in determining what Geoffrey was like when he was in Jerome’s company, since the third instalment in the series gives us such a wonderful and complete picture of the kind of friend Geoffrey is. Remember how Geoffrey immediately sided with Ian against Gant without asking for evidence against him and came to Ian’s rescue twice despite having very important businesses to attend to? Geoffrey has repeatedly shown that he has a tendency to be aggressively protective of his closest friends, to the point he has no problem resorting to extreme violence to ensure their safety (Ian, bleeding on the floor, gripping Geoffrey’s arm: “please tell me you took at least one of my assailants alive I’m going to need a witness???????” Geoffrey: “…” Ian: “…” The pile of corpses right behind them: “…” Geoffrey: “…sorry lol I kinda dealt with them in a bit of a heavy handed way” Ian: whimpers and collapses in his arms). Geoffrey’s attitude in regards to Ian’s enemies perfectly explains why he never had any qualms siding with Jerome against Ian despite the fact Derangale wasn’t telling him shit about the supposed evidence behind his outlandish claims. This is actually part of his regular pattern of behaviour: Geoffrey has consistently shown a thorough commitment towards undying trust and unconditional support through direct action. He might seem cold and aloof since he is never seen behave in an overtly friendly or approachable way when he is out in public (he also does not smile ONCE throughout the whole trilogy), but this right here is, in my opinion, a very affectionate man who is capable of forming true and intimate bonds with a handful of hand-picked men whose company he deeply treasures. Let’s talk about how Geoffrey U-turned at the speed of light to go back and help Ian corner Gant even though he was in the middle of carrying out an extremely important mission for Blanche of Castile. Let’s talk about how Derangale did not even have the time to fall to the ground after Ian delivered him the finishing blow, because Geoffrey literally teleported behind him to catch him, hoist him on his horse and take him to safety (let’s also talk about how Ian later found Derangale’s corpse among those of all the abandoned fallen soldiers the imperial army was not able to retrieve, and saw that his dead body had been laid on a shield with care, which means Geoffrey probably was the one responsible for preserving his dignity in death since we know for a fact he was there to hear Derangale’s last words and witness him die – I am literally about to start screaming please send help :)))))))). Do not let his grumpiness and harsh words fool you, Geoffrey is the most dedicated best friend another knight could ever ask for.
HOWEVER, the main difference between the two relationships I am comparing is that Geoffrey’s support of Ian is always unconditional, but never irrational in the same way his pursuit of revenge on Jerome’s behalf was, and at no point in the story does Geoffrey fail in evaluating Ian’s character or intentions. Furthermore, Ian’s gaslighting game was ON POINT in book 2, he was warping reality around Geoffrey like a damn magician, but Geoffrey never fully bought into his carefully crafted lies. And yet I am expected to believe that Derangale was such a skilled master manipulator he was able to conceal his true nature and agenda from Geoffrey for months? Hello??? PLEASE! Make it make sense!!! The ease with which Derangale was able to withold crucial information from him is extremely suspicious. Really? You mean to tell me Jerome Derangale had one of the least gullible people in the saga wrapped around his finger for years and never once slipped and misbehaved in front of him? Sorry I know at this point I must sound extremely redundant but Geoffrey’s selective blindness towards anything that concerns Derangale really is the weirdest thing ever, like, uh oh! Are you sure you didn’t catch any overly soft feelings for your bestie? So…I’m gonna say it: my theory on why Geoffrey’s behaviour was all over the place in the first chapters of book 2 is that he has always been completely unaware of the true nature and extent of his emotional attachment to Derangale, and this cluelessness of his contributed to worsening his already frustrated state. Furthermore, I also think Derangale must have noticed something was going on with Geoffrey and decided to use it to his advantage. Dude was a bit too confident, suspiciously confident in his ability to keep Geoffrey at his side without having to disclose any kind of compromising information.
In conclusion:
What I’m trying to say here is that I’m pretty convinced Geoffrey Martewall is not one of the straights. To sum all of this up, he:
-drinks astronomical amounts of his own extra strong brew of respect women juice on a daily basis
-has a tendency to get very attached to a few selected male friends who he then proceeds to protect with everything he has
-never noticed his old friend (👀) was lying to him, acted in a very out of character and erratic way for a while after his old friend’s (👀👀) death and was ready to commit actual crimes in an attempt to honour his old friend’s (👀👀👀) memory.
So. Yeah. The bi vibes are there. I would rather die than give up my Clueless Bisexual King Geoffrey Martewall headcanons! Sorry but a straight Geoffrey would make zero sense to me. Your honour can’t you see!!! this guy is WAY too cool not to be bi!!!
I rest my case.
P.S. I cannot BELIEVE I’m actually posting this monster on the day of the anniversary of the battle of Bouvines??? I swear I didn’t do it on purpose, at first I was really annoyed at the fact that putting this together was taking me weeks but then yesterday while I was editing I realized I would eventually be able to publish this on the very day Derangale died and Geoffrey was taken prisoner :’’) Perfect timing am I right?
#I love....Geoffrey Martewall...so fucking much i literallyhschbcbg !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!#He!!!!!!! HNGGGGG#also this is probably full of mistakes and typos and whatnot but i don't care at this point i just want to get my point across#and my point is that Geoffrey has to be bi and i am . right#haha ooops my Jerome/Geoffrey agenda is finally out in the open for everyone to see haha ooooooopppppp#anyway i've never posted anything this long before#Geoffrey was worth every single word I spent talking abt him tho#hyperversum#I'm tired I'm going to bed now byeeeeee#Geoffrey Martewall#Jerome Derangale#Ian Maayrkas
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