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cas-writes-stuff-ig · 2 months

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Cheering Her Up

f!/nb! reader x regina george (you love to make Regina feel better)

She calls you "duck" (ITS FUNNY/CUTE I PROMISE)

closeted bi Regina, and openly enby/lesbian reader

reader binds their chest with transtape/kt tape

secret relationship

cheering her up

Regina is taller than you

CONTENT: SO SO SO SORRY I KNOW IM WEIRD

Word Count: 1853

(Originally supposed to be a one shot)

kind of alludes to sex but not explicitly

Regina lets you write your own diss in her Burn Book, so Gretchen and Karen don't get suspicious as to why you're not in it. (a bit of transphobia and homophobia, t-slur/d-slur)

Past bullying and some self-deprication

Reader is a weirdo but Regina likes it

Reader likes classic rock and old hits, Regina pretends to despise it

She lashes out at you but its all good in the end :)

Reader likes to sing

Part 2 of Cheering Her Up (A Party)

a/n: this is a huge self-insert for me, I was really vibing to Bob Seger earlier (btw this is the second thing ive written in like 5 years spare me)

ALSO feel free to message or comment any feedback is appreciated 🙏

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Before the sophomore year, you were sure Regina totally despised you. She openly criticized any gay person she came across. Sophomore year, you were seated next to her in math and history, and you felt like you were going to be destroyed.

But when you came over to her house for a project, she asked "You have your first kiss yet?"

It caught you off guard. "Uh, no. Why?" your voice squeaked, although you knew she was a bitch. You were attracted to her.

She got close to your face and smirked, you could feel her breath on yours. "No reason," She grabbed the back of your head and kissed you. You didn't kiss back out of shock and Regina pulled away and went red, she opened her mouth to say something to excuse her actions, but you leaned in and kissed her again. That moment opened a whole new door for both of you.

After that, you and Regina got really close. Outside of the school halls, and in the comfort of Regina's mansion, you were secretly her best friend but also her friend with benefits. She isn't out yet either, she still has too much pride to be seen with a loser, but you don't mind waiting for her.

She was slightly nicer to you than others at school. She was actually pretty kind to you behind closed doors. She cared about you even if she never said it out loud. So about a month after you started hooking up, you were at her house and she handed you her Burn Book which was open to a blank page with only your picture on it. "I don't want Karen and Gretchen to get suspicious as to why you're not in it."

You could deal with the insults and the taunts, it never bothered you that much, so you wrote something that used to bother you 'Y/N L/N is a tranny dyke'.

The thing that did get to you was in 8th grade when you confessed to a girl, and she told everyone in your PE class that you watched girls change in the locker room. Everyone shunned you after that, but you grew thick skin. In freshman year you found your place amongst the loners and the nerds. You were content with it.

"Are you sure you want that in there?" Regina asked, what you wrote about yourself was harsh.

You nodded "Regina, I'm out of the closet already. It's a secret everybody already knows" You closed the book and handed it back to Regina and she tucked it away. "If I walk like a duck, swim like a duck, and quack like a duck, I'm probably a duck" She laughed at your joke, and you corrected yourself smiling "I mean dyke"

"You're so stupid" Regina replied, but it wasn't mean or full of scorn, she just shoved your shoulder. She changed your name to "Duck" in her contacts.

A week later you found out what your contact name was, you laughed at her a little and she got defensive "I'll change it then" and you quickly stopped laughing and took her phone.

"No no, keep it, please Regina it's cute" You yanked her phone out of her hand and tried to keep it away from her. You laughed again and ran around her room holding her phone, but she cornered you, pushing your chest, then your back hit the wall. You were breathless from running and grinned, though her face was stern. "I'm sorry, Gina. Please keep it, it's fine really"

The look on her face made you lose your confidence and you backed down, and handed her phone back, "Thanks loser" She tucked it back in her pocket, and she had a smug smile. "You're lucky I'm in a forgiving mood today" and tilted your chin up and kissed your lips.

After that day, it became one of your inside jokes, and "Duck" became one of your nicknames.

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That summer she invited you over to swim at her pool for the first time. "Hey loser, hurry up" she opened the door and led you to her pool.

You brought your only swim trunks and taped your breasts back to go swimming. She was in a tight bikini and she slipped in the pool, you took your shirt off, and she was staring at your body.

You weren't sporty, but you went to the gym, it's not like you had rock-hard abs, but you were toned and Regina hadn't seen you like that in the sunlight before, you beamed as you basked in the warm sun.

"Hey Duck, get in here" she beckoned you, you seized an opportunity to make a joke.

You bent your knees and flapped your arms a little walking back and forth at the edge of the pool "Quack quack" You giggled out. Regina cracked out a smile that evolved into laughter, her laugh warmed you more than the sunlight.

When you slipped into the pool, she was still laughing at you. "You're such a dumbass"

She splashed water at you when you tried to come and hug her in the pool. "Hey!" you yelped as the water got in your face and you splashed back.

After you just relaxed in the pool, you floated on your back, eyes closed, and sun-kissed skin. You didn't notice how Regina looked at you, but you heard water swish as she walked toward your floating body. You cracked an eye open, the sun was behind her making her look ethereal. Regina's blonde hair glowed, she looked like an angel, not the bitchy Queen Bee at school.

"Hey," you tried opening your eyes but just squinted.

She leaned down and said "Hey" back in her sweet voice and kissed you gently.

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

The summer pushed you closer together, of course, she had her fair share of parties she went to with the Plastics. You were there at parties too, but you both only shot each other glances. The days she hung out with the Plastics, you missed her company.

You got your license over the summer and when you got the message that she was back home, you hopped in your Mini Cooper and drove to her house and picked her up. Though she usually drove you around in her Jeep.

"Where we heading today?" you asked as she hopped in the car

She ignored your question and her attention was on your music "Earth, Wind & Fire's 'September'? Really?" she criticized your music taste.

She buckled in and you said, "What's wrong with my music taste Regina?"

"God you really are a loser" she insulted, you could tell she was in a mood today. You were a little hurt but tried not to take it personally. "7-11 can you grab me a Diet Coke?" you nodded and started driving.

You skipped to the next song and what played was Bee Gee's "More Than A Woman" You smiled and sang along to it. Hoping Regina would get the hint you were singing it to her.

"Suddenly you're in my life, A part of everything I do. You got me workin' day and night. Just tryin' to keep a hold on you..." Your fingers tapped against the steering wheel and you moved your shoulders to the beat of the song.

She just groaned and pressed her temples, you thought she really hated it but from the corner of your eye, you saw a corner of her lip lift slightly. After seeing that you sang your heart out a little more at a red light you turned to her momentarily "More than a woman. More than a woman to me" and grinned wide.

"Hey! Keep your eyes on the road!" she pushed your head to look back at the road.

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

At school when Junior year started, Regina and you acted like you two were nothing, you both devised a facade as to why you interacted at all. It was a half-truth, everyone at school thought Regina paid y/n to do their math homework. But you only did that sometimes, and usually just helped her.

Today when you met at her house she was upset about something. "Regina, what's wrong?" you asked worriedly.

"Nothing, stay out of it" she snapped at you and she stomped up the stairs to her room.

You followed her "Regina come on," she turned on her heel and looked at you angrily and lashed out.

"Why are you even here? You're not dating me, stop acting like it" She yelled at you.

You paused and your heart faltered "Regina..." you said quietly. She turned back around and she slammed her bedroom door. Regina crawled in the sheets and just went to sleep. You didn't follow her in. But you walked downstairs to her kitchen and opened her fridge.

When Regina woke up she smelled some kind of pastry downstairs and light music. She opened her door and crept down the stairs, as she approached the kitchen, she heard your humming.

The next song started to play, your back was turned and you were using her mom's apron and mittens, pulling out a batch of brownies from the oven. When you sang alone, you were cheesier and poured your heart into each song, then you placed the brownies onto a cooling rack on the island counter and pretended to hold a mic.

"Still like that old-time rock and roll. That kind of music just soothes the soul" You closed your eyes and turned around still pretending to hold a microphone "I reminisce about the days of old, with that old-time rock and roll" Regina just smiled stifling laughter.

But when you started playing air guitar, at the part with no lyrics. You heard her giggle and your eyes shot open, face reddening "Regina! You're up!" she just laughed at your incredible dorkiness and walked up to you, this was the highlight of her day.

You brushed off your embarrassment from getting caught when you saw how happy it made her. And you walked closer to her and continued to mouth the song and dance around her. Still wearing her mom's frilly apron. You took her hand and spun her around and she still laughed at your silliness.

You stopped and walked back to the counter where she followed, "Brownies?" you smiled.

"Yeah, sure" She sat down at the table and you cut two pieces out.

When you handed her a plate, she looked up at you and spoke softly "Sorry about earlier..."

You smiled softly and took her hand as you sat next to her "Its okay, don't worry about it" You let go of her hand and then asked, "You feeling better now?"

"Yeah, thanks duck" She leaned towards you and kissed your lips. "You're so fucking corny" Regina pulled away.

You smirked "You secretly love it"

"I do" She responded, you almost choked on your own spit at her admission. She reveled in your panic and took a bite of the brownie you made her.

Only you could make her smile like this, and laugh like this, you knew that, and you had your silent victory.

Part 2 of Cheering Her Up (A Party)

#regina george x reader #fluff #renee rapp #regina george #mean girls #renee rapp x reader

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athena-writes-i-guess · 1 year

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what abt a oneshot where reader is in public and calls eddie (they’re dating) and asks him to pretend to be her bf cause she completely forgot they were actly dating cause the relationship was new and she was drunk and he’s like girl what? i am ur bf!!

A/N: Hello friend! Thank you so much for this request! Sorry it took a little bit! Work has been actually insane for the last few weeks. I really had fun writing this little thing, I really hope you like it!!

Pairing: Eddie Munson x f!reader

“So, do you want to maybe go get food with me sometime?” You were asked as the boy, who’s name you couldn’t remember, leaned on the counter in front of you.

You were at a party, roped into going by your friend Robin. She practically begged you to go so she wouldn’t be alone when Steve got busy, and you had nothing to do that night anyways so you decided to go. You had been drinking, probably a little too much at this point, and you were already a little wobbly and confused when you started this conversation. Hell, you didn’t even know what had been said that led to this question.

“I’m sorry, I really can’t.” You slurred out, taking another sip of the mystery drink Steve had made you.

“Awe, really? We’ve been having such a nice time talking.” He asked, shooting you a friendly smile.

Shit. You hated confrontation so much. And letting people down always made you uncomfortable. You usually made your best friend, Eddie, do it for you. Too bad he wasn’t here right now to help.

Then you had a thought, something Eddie had told you to say if you were uncomfortable with a guy hitting on you, “Sorry, I have a boyfriend. Think he’d be pretty mad if I went out with another guy.” You lied, adding a small chuckle for effect.

“Oh, really? I didn’t know that, I haven’t seen you with anyone. Who’s the lucky guy if I can ask? See who I lost to.” He chuckled, taking a sip of his own drink as he looked around, seemingly to look for your supposed boyfriend.

“Oh -uh- he’s not here yet. Had something to do before the party.” You said quickly, taking another sip as you avoided his eyes.

“Well, introduce me later. It’d be cool to meet him.” He said with a nod, “I’m gonna go get another drink! See you later!”

Shit. You hadn’t thought he’d actually ask to meet your boyfriend. What to do now? Who could you even ask to pretend?

You looked around the kitchen that you were standing in at the teens around you, trying to see a friendly face, when suddenly it hit you.

Eddie.

You could ask Eddie! He wouldn’t mind pretending to be your boyfriend. He had always told you that he could if you needed. You had always felt a little awkward about asking him, since you had been basically in love with him since you met. But now you need him.

You decided to look for a phone upstairs where it was a little quieter, passing by tipsy teens as you made your way through the house. You nudged passed couples chatting and making out as you walked up the stairs until you finally found an empty room. You quickly locked the door behind you and rushed over to the phone, dialing the number you had memorized from daily use.

It rang and rang and you were worried that he wasn’t home. You knew he had band practice today. You almost gave up when you finally heard a hurried, “Hello?”

“Eds! Thank god you’re home!” You said, slightly relieved.

“Hey sweetheart! I wasn’t expecting to hear from you until later. Is everything okay?” He asked, concern laced through his words.

“Yeah, everything is fine. It’s just- do you remember how you said that I should tell creeps that I have a boyfriend if they ask me out?” You questioned.

“Yeah?” Eddie responded, slightly confused.

“Well this guy- I don’t even know his name- asked me out and I said I have a boyfriend and now he wants to meet him and I don’t have anyone! Can you please come and pretend to be my boyfriend?” You pleaded, twirling the phone cord around your finger anxiously.

“Sweetheart-” He started, now Eddie really was confused.

“Please Eddie? Pretty please?” You interrupted.

You heard Eddie laugh and you felt the frown pull at your lips, now he was going to tease you about this.

“Sweetheart, I can’t pretend to be your boyfriend.” He said, you could hear the smile through the phone.

“Okay, sorry Eddie.” You couldn’t stop from pouting.

“Wait, babe, it’s because I’m already your boyfriend.” He laughed. “I can’t pretend to be something I already am.”

You felt your eyes go wide and your mouth dropped open in surprise. How could you forget? How could you forget that the guy that you had loved for years had asked you to be his girlfriend just last week?

Alcohol. That’s how.

“Sweetheart? You still there?” He chuckled.

“Oh.” Is all you could say.

“How much have you been drinking, sweet thing?” Eddie asked.

“I don’t know, Steve’s been giving me these drinks and I don’t know what’s in them.” You chuckled, smiling even more at the little “Great” he let out at that. “I’m sorry Eds. I can’t believe I forgot! I think that means I should cut myself off, only water now.”

“It’s alright baby. How about I come over, walk around with you for a bit and get you a little sober- make sure that creep stays away from my girl- and then I’ll take you home for the night. Then tomorrow, for our date, I’ll make sure you won’t be able to forget that I’m your boyfriend, hmm?” He teased lightly, you could practically hear the shit-eating grin on his face.

“That sounds good babe.” You smiled, “Thank you. I can’t wait to see you.”

“Me neither, sweet thing. Be there soon pretty girl!”

Taglist: @srapalestina @yvonneeeee @cityofidek @anaisweird @mrslovesmayahawke @harrys-tittie @becca-alexa @catacina (couldnt tag earlier so sorry)

2K notes · View notes

popponn · 4 months

Text

coincidences and flickers.

ii - blank papers.

notes: fem!burnout artist!reader x pro-player!isagi yoichi ; pro player / post canon au ; self-depreciating thoughts towards one's own work ; fluff, with slight angst (burnout) with a happy ending (a slight hurt/comfort) ; unreliable narrator. a.n. at the end; f!reader but could be read as gn.

summary: you never thought you would find yourself next to isagi yoichi again. yet, like a deja vu, it happened once more.

prev. ; series masterlist. ; next

Going outside, viewing a bright cheerful day filled with fresh air and sounds of laughter around you, several sayings crossed your mind before you finally stopped yourself upon a cafe. Sitting on one of the bar stools and facing yourself towards the people who passed by you from beyond the window, you sat quietly.

The first comment came from yourself, heavily uttered out in your mind, it said, “Ah. Shit. It’s going nowhere.”

Right in front of you, beside a half-empty cup of coffee, was your opened sketchbook filled with unfinished scribbles all over. In some parts, there were hastily drawn squares that illustrated the canvases you would use for your work. Inside those squares were sketches no longer visible, most of their parts were crossed out almost violently under a tangled mess of scratchy lines. Looking at this without your pencil touching the paper, you just wanted to slump down right on top of the table. Thankfully, however, you still remembered what it meant to be appropriate in the middle of a crowded public place.

The second was not quite a comment, actually. It was part of an old professor’s lecture from your student days, a memory that had aged by a few years already. It was said in an empty hall that would soon be used to exhibit students’ works within a few months, right in front of said students. Your professor resembled a smirking, merciless wolf ready to ruin and devour as he stood upright, dressed in black that was more suitable for a funeral than a class.

“The theme is ‘beauty’. Please remember to make it a worthwhile piece. Of course, how you interpret those themes is up in your decisions and angles,” he said. Somehow, those motivating words felt haunting. You remembered how most students paled as the tongue that had ruined so much self-esteem during its career as both a critique and a teacher went on.

“Feel free to show off with size and numbers as much as your space and creativity allow it. I do have high hopes for each of you. After all, ‘beauty’ is one of the most attractive things for an artist, no?”

—sitting at the cafe, years after graduation and even more after that exhibition, you could hardly remember what you drew. Did that professor also leave a scathing so bad your memory repressed it?

Then, the third comment came in the form of your friend, a few glasses behind from being a blackout drunk, but certainly a few glasses too much to still have a filter placed on his mouth. A thick accent laced his slurred voice as he continued his supposed lecture about art and career. “Don’t you get it?! We are artists, but we are human too! Love what you make everyone!!!” he said passionately while standing on top of the restaurant table half naked, his cartoon t-shirt nowhere in sight.

Everyone, just as drunk or a bit less, cheered and agreed with him simultaneously. The stench of fellow art graduates and victims of capitalism’s passions, or perhaps repressed stress, filled the room. From your seat, as the unfortunate yet responsible sober friend of that night’s reunion—chosen via a rigged game of rock paper scissors—could only watch in amusement. Shouting again, your friend stated, “Art is rooted in our emotions as a human! It’s the heart—the heart! Don’t forget that! Express yourself!!!”

Afterward, it spiraled down into even more of a jumbled oration that you couldn’t quite remember. But, certainly, you would wonder if your current self was the one seated there that night. What would this version of you think of those sentences?

Your answer came immediately in the form of a scoff that escaped your mouth bitterly.

“Beautiful things, love, and emotion… huh?” you repeated while staring down at your sketchbook once again. Letting go of your pencil, you buried your face in your palms,“…what am I doing right now then?”

Is there a point for an ‘artist’ who felt nothing when doing something they were supposed to feel so much emotion for?

Is it even okay for someone to make something even when it is not even worthwhile?

“Ugh,” you groaned hoarsely into your hand. Lifting up your face you heaved out one long sigh. As of the moment, you should try again to brainstorm a concept for the needed pieces. Also, you still had illustration work to do. There was no time to whine and feel down. It felt immature, truthfully.

You glared down at the messy, filled-up page of yours. This was the product of your choice, so you had to go on. If the worst comes to worst, you would just consult your client and draw it out as needed. It felt almost like a chokehold that dug itself right inside your trachea, but you reminded yourself once again. “It is work,” you whispered to yourself, “you just have to—”

“Excuse me,” a voice stopped your mutterings right on its track, asking, “is this seat taken?”

You spared a second to berate yourself, once again reminding yourself you were in public that going out was probably the wrong choice for that moment. Then, you faced to your right, answering the voice with a smile, “It is not, please feel free—”

Then, in a manner of a dramatic deja vu, you found the very familiar face of Isagi Yoichi, dressed in casual boyish clothing, right next to you. He paused as he too realized who you were, freezing just as he was about to sit on the stool beside you with a cup of cold drink in his hand.

“Ah.”

“Oh.”

Like a pair of two surprised barely-acquaintances you were, you and Isagi stared at each other in a mix of surprise and recognition. His eyes looked a few shades darker under the shadow of his black cap, however, through tresses that peeked out from under there, you noticed how the bluish tone of his hair got accentuated even further. Dressed in a casual white sweater and grey pants, those hues of his stood out even further.

He looked slightly different compared to the man you met that night, shying away from the party and leaning against the wall. But, even more so, he looked different from the ‘him’ you viewed through the screen three days ago.

A player who truly deserved the titles of ‘Ace’ and ‘Star’ in his name. Someone who without a doubt carried so much passion for what he loves that it couldn’t help but steal your breath away for numerous reasons. It was hilarious in a way, how replaying that one of many matches where Isagi Yoichi played–out of curiosity and a slight remembrance of his name–ended up with your heart thumping almost wildly in your studio.

It was supposed to be a background voice, yet you watched that match with too much enthusiasm, feeling both envious and wishful every time Isagi Yoichi’s face came onto the screen.

Ah–you took in an inconspicuous deep breath–this is no time to think of some soccer match.

Reverting your focus back to the matter at hand, you silently took comfort in the fact that most customers surrounding you either had their ears plugged or were too into their own conversations to care about two people gawking at each other. Forcing your bewilderment within a tidy gulp, you immediately put on your best pleasantry. “What…a surprise to see you here, Isagi. And as I was saying, it is not occupied. Please feel free to have it.”

Quickly enough, the male in front of you followed your cue. Pulling the chair and sitting himself beside you, Isagi offered you a nod that could pass as a half bow as he greeted you by name. “I, uh… didn't expect to see you here too. It’s nice to see you again!”

You nodded back to him, albeit much more slowly, “Indeed, to think I will be able to meet and converse like this with a national soccer superstar, your fans must be seething.”

Isagi chuckled bashfully at your remark, the tense line on his shoulder loosening, “You talk as if you are no one yourself.”

“Having a few websites and prints displaying my name is certainly incomparable to you, please,” you shrugged, turning in your seat slightly to find a more comfortable position to converse with him, “though I am honored to have you know me.”

“Well, I did end up finding out a bit more about you after that party…” Isagi said as put down his iced drink. An iced tea of some kind, if its color was any indication. While your attention shifted slightly towards his drink, Isagi continued a tad bit too miserably, “…but to think you listen to my comments about your painting like that…”

Isagi’s smile crooked ever so slightly, a teasing tone mingled with one that said ‘How could you?’ as light as it should be for a small talk poking. You raised both of your eyebrows as a reply, smiling, “In my defense, you didn’t ask.”

“Hey, I think I did,” Isagi took a sip from his drink. His right cheek twitched. “I definitely did and you just answered vaguely.”

“Then, you probably asked just as vaguely,” you covered your grin with your hand, poorly playing up a faux misery to cover up your growing mirth, “after all, there is no way for a mere painter and illustrator like me to just brag in front of you, Ace Striker.”

“You are…” taking notice of your insistence, Isagi gave up with a sigh. Then, staring at his drink as if he was remembering that party, he continued, “Still that night…”

Hearing him trailing off, you too recalled the condemning comments you spat out that night. “I was… truthfully I just had some shame with that piece of mine. Pardon my manner,” you reasoned, truthfully unsure of how much of it was true.

“Ah, no, I don’t mean it like that, I mean!” Isagi hurriedly added, “I mean, yeah, that happened, but if I know it was your painting…”

Isagi seemed to hesitate to continue his words. You did wonder on what he wanted to say, but letting an awkwardness rise when the both of you still clearly wanted to sit in this spot would be in poor taste. Brushing it off with a wave, you attempted to finish the topic at hand with a good note. “As they say, what happened, happened. So, putting all those aside,” you turned your face fully towards Isagi, starting the conversation from the top once again. “What brings you here?”

If Isagi did notice the shift in conversation, he certainly didn’t bother to mask it. His eyes stayed on you for a moment, but after a brief, nearly unnoticeable moment of silence, Isagi replied to you as he took off his cap, putting it down on the table, “I, well, taking a drink, I guess? I’m supposed to meet up with a friend but…”

As your company furrowed his eyebrows despite holding his smile, you scoffed amiably, leaning your cheek on your palm. “Did they cancel out of the blue?” you asked, out of experience,

“Yeah, his girlfriend and something about an urgent matter,” Isagi said in a way that told you whoever this friend was, it wasn’t exactly a surprising thing for that person to pull. You attempted to cover up your pity at that. Isagi, with hair slightly disheveled by his cap, returned the same question back to you. The forced smile etched on his lips visibly softened as he asked, “How about you, though?”

You took one deep breath as you thought up a response. Answering honestly would just bring the two of you back to the very topic you attempted to run away from–your drawing. But, with a sketchbook being opened in broad daylight like this in front of you, lying would be plain stupid.

You held back a groan. Your headache was probably caused by a rotting mind rather than whatever you thought it was before. This conversation had turned into a devil’s loop.

However, still taking proper manners and such into account, you lightly tapped said sketchbook, “As you can see, work, in a way. I need a change of scenery to try and get new ideas. But, as of now… you could say I’m taking a little break.”

It certainly put so many things mildly, but that answer should do. The last thing you wanted to do would be to express your frustration once again and repeat that night with the same person. Therefore, calling ‘this’ a ‘break’ would suffice.

“Ah, I see,” Isagi’s eyes moved to your sketches. Then, they moved between you and those scribbles a more few times, before with a somewhat timid kind of curiosity, Isagi hummed, “Uh, you don’t have to but… mind if I take a look? At those drawings?”

How you wished you could snap that thing shut and run away.

“Sure,” you pushed it towards him. You hoped your hands didn’t shake. Keeping up your demeanor, you added in a joking manner, “But they are still very messy though–” they are a mess “–I hope you won’t mind.”

“I definitely won’t!” Isagi responded with a grin that carried with it a mysterious confidence. He sounded even more sure than you were. As he flipped the book back to its first page, you immediately bit your tongue. You reminded yourself to appear friendly. “I found some of your work online and I really like them!”

A light flutter touched you upon hearing his praise. It did sound genuine, even if you probably would have thought otherwise. Though, probably, if you looked at your older artworks, you could say that it was made with your whole heart at the very least. Unlike most things you had put out recently.

Idly tracing the pencil you had laid down, you replied, “I’m glad you like them.”

You managed to stop yourself from saying more, somehow, despite the bitter words already hanging at the exit of your mouth. Pushing those words aside, you eventually decided to continue to follow the lines on the pencil’s body once again, feeling the familiar and artificial smoothness on it.

“Woah,” Isagi gaped quietly, turning the pages slowly. You took notice that it was pages of still life studies you did. Just from the number of details on them alone, it was apparent they had been made some long time ago–before the overwhelming weight that made the task of simply opening your sketchbook unpleasant came into your days. There was no way you could muster enough will to put in that much effort.

You stared at those sketches deeply, wondering if you enjoyed making them then. Under your own breath, you murmured, ”Those stuffs, eh…”

“You really are amazing…” Isagi praises easily as he continues to flip through the pages, mouth agape slightly as if your drawings truly were masterpieces. “You are so good.”

Truthfully, the more praise you heard, the more you wondered how you should react. Donning on faux gratitude and humor felt wrong. It truly did lighten your heart to hear it. Hearing that someone spared even a second to appreciate something you make has always been nice. But, even so–

Those drawings were from a time when drawing was easy and filled with love. The you who had walked past that time and looked back at it with nothing but envy had no right to accept those praises. In a way, perhaps you never did deserve those praises.

Many people deserve that title of a ‘pro’ more. They who draw better than you could ever hope to be, they who love drawing much more deeply than you.

You, who dared to say you were in love with your craft once before falling silent this soon–

You have no right to accept those words.

Your fingers drew to a pause, you put a second of consideration before deciding to put that pencil back into your back. “You praise me too much,” you replied, thankful for his kind words nonetheless. However, still unwilling to dwell too much on your drawing, you tried to shift the focus towards Isagi once again, “Also, I’m a bit curious, but do you mind if I ask something?”

“Hm?” Isagi’s head lifted up slightly, removing his attention from your sketchbook for a moment. “Sure, I think. What is it?”

“I thought soccer practice is an everyday thing for pros like you. Are you on break?” you asked casually.

“You could say that,” Isagi said, “two weeks off for a bit before we go back to the usual.”

“I see…” you noted down. Then, the memory of a video you watched a few days ago came to the surface of your mind for the second time. It was a video you played to fill the background silence at your studio, however the cheers of crowds and the close-ups of Isagi Yoichi’s face were played enough times to have an impression of their own. “Still, seeing how hotblooded and passionate you are on the field, I would have thought you would be practicing alone instead of drinking coffee…”

“Wha–” Isagi, unexpectedly, spluttered at your sudden statement.

You blinked. Your hand flew to cover your mouth the moment you realized what you just muttered out loud, “Oh my–I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be rude–”

“No, no! It’s fine!” Isagi shook both of his hands quickly. The two of you truly were lucky that no one paid attention to your interactions or it would be embarrassing–you noted, your face turning as if you just sucked on something sour. “I mean, I usually kind of do? It’s just, a break is necessary sometimes, you know–those stuffs. And really, it just surprised me for you to say that out of the blue so…aha ha ha…”

As the blue-haired male laughed bashfully, you couldn’t help but to follow it with a hesitant guffaw of your own. Letting the sudden jolt between the two of you dissipate, you soon added, “I truly do mean it as praise, though. Even someone who doesn’t know anything about soccer like me couldn’t help but admire you when you play.”

While you were very much aware of how you worded it out like mere flattery, you truly did mean every bit of your word. Even through a screen, watching a play of something that felt worlds away from yours, seeing someone putting on such a wide victorious grin and focused gaze was a ‘something’. Three days ago, seeing that replay in the silence of your own room, sitting right in front of a blank canvas, it truly was a sight.

“Your dedication and such… I will call you a talented genius, but it was definitely more than that…” you vividly remembered how his eyes shone within those footages. Even outside of the field, the glint that stole your breath that day still held itself across his blue eyes that were right in front of you. “...you are a sight to behold, Isagi Yoichi.”

Isagi’s mouth hung open. Nervously, he rubbed the back of his neck as it morphed into a bright smile–boyish, bashful, yet full of pride that you had come to associate with him after watching that match. And, you supposed, after watching the proof of his hard work, he truly deserved to feel that pride.

“Thanks,” Isagi said, saying your name quietly in gratitude. His eyes escaped towards your sketchbook for a moment, “I think I could say the same about you too, though, you know.”

You blinked. “...Huh?”

“That painting that night and all these sketches,” Isagi continued to flip through the sketchbook, finally arriving on the messiest page of all, yet still looking at it as if it was worthy of something beyond a series of unfinished scribbles and less, “I’m no expert at paintings and drawings too, but I could feel how much of your heart and seriousness you put in it.”

“... is… that so…?” you did not expect to hear such praise. Was it a praise?

Was trying to put your all enough when it amounted to nothing eventually?

When it turned out to be meaningless and–

“Your drawings–” Isagi faced towards you, leaning forward slightly as his eyes crescented, a genuine and sincere glimmer still carrying itself in them, “–I really like them!”

For once, you stilled as you listened to Isagi Yoichi’s compliment.

It was simple and, undoubtedly, very subjective. There was no praise on how he understood it nor on how he thought everything came together. You wondered if this was because you hadn’t heard or tried to seek any opinion of your drawings for a while. Or perhaps it was because you drowned every single one of them with your own comparison and sentiments. You couldn’t quite pinpoint what it was. However, you knew that it stilled you because–

It was simply an ‘I like them’.

For once, however, you couldn’t feel any disgust towards yourself or your drawings coming up. Your brain couldn’t come up with any reason or anything–it stayed silent, as you could only nod and utter out a quiet acceptance. When push comes to shove, who were you to discredit a feeling of ‘liking’?

“...thank you, Isagi,” you nod, looking away back to the window across you with a smile you knew was too shaky and big, feeling lightheaded and flustered, “I’m glad you like them.”

The cafe was bustling and Isagi had returned to your drawings, smiling even as he replied to you with a relaxed manner, “Same to you!”

Yet again, you found yourself unable to reply to that. Letting the conversation died there somehow felt right, oddly enough. Your shoulder relaxed as you took a deep breath once more. In the back of your mind, the grating weight was still there and you knew it would come back much sooner than you hoped it to be. But, for that moment, it was enough.

Sitting next to Isagi Yoichi–whose fervor had gained your respect–who praised you with such sincerity, it was enough for you to think that at that very moment–

It is okay for you to draw, despite everything.

Isagi turned to the next page as you stayed silent, finding yourself only being able to stare blankly at the air between the two of you. “Ah,” Isagi came to a pair of blank pages, clean and unblemished by anything.

“It seems you reached the end, Isagi,” you lightly said, offering a hand to take back the book.

“Yeah,” Isagi closed it and took it to your hand with a satisfied look, “thanks! It was great!”

“...you really praise me too much,” you repeated once more, this time acknowledging how it felt lighter to say it. “However, thank you. I’m glad you like those studies and idea roughs.”

“...studies…? …roughs?” a pair of blue eyes looked at you in confusion, the owner clearly blurting those words out of question and unfamiliarity.

You couldn’t help but to laugh at that, “The drawings you have seen. They are studies and roughs. An observation drawn on paper and… a messy note of ideas in drawing form, I suppose.”

“Oh–I see, I think I got it!” Isagi said, brightly in understanding, before then shifting slightly in his seat and taking a sip from his drink. “I never heard of those terms before–or maybe I just forgot it after high school, haha…”

You chuckled in sympathy. “It’s okay. I barely remember any rules of soccer either. I do know you can’t use your hand unless you are a goalkeeper, but other than that, I don’t think I even know what offside is.”

With faces turned towards each other, you could clearly see Isagi’s eye crinkling in humor. It was a good look on him, you noted. The lines of laughter on someone’s face always have their own charm visually, you know after all these years, however, it truly suits his face.

“Then, should I tell you?” Isagi offered, quiet rhetorically as he didn’t miss a bit to continue, “So, basically it’s–”

VRRRRT–

Which he would if it wasn’t for the sudden sound of vibration coming from his pocket. Both you and Isagi glanced down. Isagi made an apologetic face that was jumbled along with a grimace and a subtle irritation, earning a nod and an amused smile from you.

Another deja vu. It seemed like that this meeting would end soon too, you thought silently, vacantly looking at the empty pages in your hand. It didn’t feel good. The empty pang where you knew excitement should thrum was still very much there. It still felt like a hole that was simply there to make you suffer.

But, for once, it didn’t feel as terrible as it usually was–you noted. Perhaps, you could fill those pages with something ‘likable’ soon enough.

“Hey, yeah. It’s me. What is it, man?” Isagi picked up the phone with a tone much more casual than the one he used with you. A bit rougher and clearly more impolite too, you realized. “Huh? What–suddenly? Dude. Come on you just dipped out on me–you can’t just–”

You looked away as Isagi seemed to get exasperated not long into the phone call. Remembering your empty cup of coffee, you wondered if you should order another drink or perhaps move on, either back home or somewhere for dinner. You would definitely have to turn back to your work, though, either way. Your teeth felt like biting your tongue ever so slightly at that reminder, though you probably should indeed go home.

However, before that, you did feel like you had to do something beforehand.

Peering over at the phone Isagi’s hand, you wondered how should you go over it.

“Um,” Isagi called out your name, breaking your trance, wearing a description of ‘feeling bad’ on the scrunch of his face, “I’m sorry but that friend of mine…uh, he kinda turns back with his girlfriend and needs me, so…”

“Take it easy, it’s okay,” you hummed in understanding. Isagi wore an obvious guilt on his face still, however, so you added, “Really. While I do pity that I won’t get an explanation from Master Ace Striker himself, I was grateful for our chat. Thank you for humoring me.”

He chuckled at that, “Come on, no need to be that formal. I enjoyed it all too–oh. Wait.”

As Isagi cut himself short, quickly clicking through his phone, you let him be for a moment. You took the chance to put your sketchbook in your bag and scanned over the table for any of your belongings left. From the corner of your eye, you saw a quirk placing itself on Isagi’s lips.

“But, since we already looked each other up,” relaxed and friendly he offered his phone to you, unlocked and displaying the contact screen, Isagi did what you felt like you should do in your stead. “Mind exchanging our number so I can explain about ‘offsides’ and other rules to you through text?”

You were very glad your head had cooled down, or it would be terrible. Is Isagi the friendly oblivious type who doesn’t realize this sort of thing could be translated as flirting? Or it is? Or perhaps, you were simply getting too many things over your head after a few praises.

“Sure, I was about to ask you for the same thing,” you took his offer gladly, admitting your prior intent easily. Accepting his phone, you punched your number in and quickly returned it. “I will look forward to that offside explanation and the other kinds of stuff too.”

“Yeah, yeah. Explain some art stuff to me too later, ‘kay?”

“Oh. An exchange of information? How transactional.”

“I don’t mean it like that! But… yeah?”

The two of you emitted a simultaneous small laugh, for some reason. Quieting the tickle in your mouth, you shook your head, “I’m joking. I will look forward to another talk with you. It was insightful.”

Isagi’s lips turned into a shape that spelled out amusement in its equal crooked and wry curve. However, just right before he was about to open his mouth, his smile slipped along with the resounding vibration from the device in his hand. Isagi let his mouth hang open for a moment, before finally grimacing, “...well, I should go.”

Never taking your eyes off him as Isagi stepped off his stool, you nodded. “You should. I will be off soon too. Be careful and good evening, Isagi.”

“Then… good evening to you too,” Isagi said as he took backward steps towards the exit, confident and controlled enough as if he could see what was behind him clearly, “I’ll see you around.”

You raised a little wave that was more of a jest than anything, bidding him a farewell, “See you.”

And with that, Isagi turned around swiftly, a slight bounce pushing his first step forward as he went for the door. You were about to take your eyes off him right as he stopped in his rush all of a sudden, turning towards you once again.

“Oh, also–” Isagi said, a bit louder and ignorant to a few glances thrown his way, “–good luck with the idea hunting. Don’t push yourself too hard, ‘kay?”

prev. ; series masterlist. ; next

a.n.: and the second chapter is done!!! it definitely took longer than i thought, haha. maybe i should publish the outtakes for giggles hoho;;; but things are finally moving and looking up. and as a disclaimer, i want to remind you that everyone's burnout is different & this fic will never be the perfect portrayal of those experiences. but, if you are in a slump or a burnout, i wish you a good time soon :3 thank you for @doobea for beta reading this too ;;; this thing wouldn't end up being as coherent as it is without u ily;;;; all in all, i hope you enjoyed this chapter :> please do look forward to the next one, i will look forward to any kinds of feedback & thoughts u may have hehe <3 once again, thank you for reading!

taglist: @doobea @mariyumemi @intheewrld @lazysublimeengineer @coquettemaiden @kreishin @yoisami @takotakigum @themigrainegirll **bolded and italicized means i cannot tag you. please do contact me in case you want to be added or taken out of the taglist :>

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the-iceni-bitch · 5 months

Text

𝐂𝐚𝐧 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐏𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐢𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐎𝐧𝐥𝐲 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐖𝐢𝐧𝐝?

Relationship: Ransom Drysdale x Jake Jensen (Gem and Blondie, NLLYL: Before)

Words: ~3.3k

Summary: Ransom doesn’t want to go, but he can’t stay.

Warnings: explicit language, brief mention of m/m sex, ANGST!!!! Angst, angst, angst, angst, angst, homophobia, implied use of the f-slur, dysfunctional family, so much self-hatred. 18+ ONLY (due to the AU)

A/N: You may have been expecting more Kinktober, but apparently it’s Angst-mas. Listen, all of us knew this was coming but that doesn’t make it hurt less. Just remember they both end up where they need to be and that I am so sorry for doing this to all of you 😭

I am no longer doing taglists so if you want to stay up to date on my fics follow my sideblog @the-iceni-library and turn on notifications.

Ransom took another uncomfortable sip of beer and looked around at all of Jake’s family as he sat next to his boyfriend. It was weird, he was so used to dysfunction and drama that being around so many people who actually seemed happy to be related to each other made his skin crawl. He didn’t know how he was supposed to interact with these people. Even though Jake was sitting right next to him and holding his hand, he felt alone.

That didn’t stop him from smiling like he knew he should be. His thoughts may have been filled with anxiety but his WASP upbringing meant he could put on a good face no matter what. When Jake squeezed his hand he squeezed it back, beaming at his boyfriend even as he wondered at how he could possibly be a part of this man’s life when he was so colossally fucked up. He felt like he was waiting for the other shoe to drop in relation to him being a terrible person, and he hated it.

“Hey,” Jake’s smile dropped a little when he looked at Ransom’s face, his eyes full of concern which only made Ransom want to throw up. “Are you okay? I know Sam Adams is kind of basic beer, I can run to the store if you want something different.”

“No, I’m fine.” Ransom lied, smiling even wider to hopefully cover for the tightness in his throat. “Everything is great, your family is wonderful.”

Jake was about to say something else, he could tell, but fortunately Jake’s sister chose that moment to stand up with her husband. Her grin was huge and she was bouncing on her toes, and even with his anxiety Ransom couldn’t stop a chuckle when Jake started bouncing too. It took a few minutes for everything to die down and then she was finally able to get out the words she had apparently been holding back all night.

“We’re pregnant!!”

The uproar of pure joy was deafening, and it only got more intense when the sonogram was revealed. Every member of the Jensen clan started hugging each other, some of them even cried. Jake was one of the criers, running to his sister and dragging Ransom behind him until he wrapped her in an enormous bear hug.

Ransom felt a little better now that all the attention wasn’t on him as the boyfriend they’d never met before. Or at least he felt better until he heard the word “uncle” directed at him.

“What?” His mouth was suddenly very dry and his smile felt more forced than ever.

“You’re gonna be ‘Uncle Ransom’. Isn’t that exciting?” Jake’s sister beamed at him until Jake poked her in the arm, shaking her head but still keeping that jubilant smile on her face. “Or… you know, sorry. Mom!!”

The rest of the afternoon was a blur for Ransom. A happy, noisy, gut wrenching blur. He didn’t think he’d actually finished the beer he had been holding, and he was vaguely aware of people moving around him but nothing else registered. All he could think about was how fucking serious things were. Up to a certain point he had already been aware, but that was just with him and Jake. Jake’s entire apparently fantastic family had never entered his mind until that day, and he could not figure out how he was supposed to fit in with all of them. Especially as an uncle. The only uncle he’d known was Walt, and he was just awful. He couldn’t be around kids. He probably shouldn’t even be a part of any sort of functional family.

Before he knew it he and Jake were home. He hated the way his boyfriend was looking at him, like he wanted to stay so happy about his sister’s news but also could tell that Ransom was lost in his fucked up emotions. So he managed to put on a placating smile, ignoring the ache in his stomach and his racing pulse when he told Jake how happy he was about him getting to be a fun uncle. His freakout was saved for when he managed to get in the shower after Jake got ready for bed, sitting on the bottom of the tub and breathing painfully while the hot water washed over him and he tried not to feel like such an utter bastard. All night he obsessed about how he didn’t deserve the man he was sharing his bed with, and how much easier things would be if he could bring himself to either talk to Jake or just leave.

It was like that for the next two weeks. Ransom’s cheeks hurt from all the fake smiling and acting cheerful each night when he went to bed. The only time he seemed able to relax was when he and Jake were having sex, and even then he felt like he was being an asshole for trying to distract himself with his boyfriend’s body, so he tried not to do it unless Jake was adamant about it. He knew Jake could tell something was wrong, and as much as he loved the man for knowing that asking would just make Ransom more stubborn, he almost wished the blond would just do it. Maybe if he finally broke down things could get better.

But he didn’t really want to break down. Ransom knew himself, he wasn’t a man who thrived on deep and meaningful conversations. He couldn’t believe how grateful he was when he got an invitation to some boring party for Linda’s real estate firm. A year and a half without a word from his mother or anyone else in his family and all of a sudden he was invited to some fancy soirée out of the blue. Yeah, he hated his family, but he hated what he was feeling around Jake right now even more. He even considered just telling Jake he was going and then drinking himself to oblivion in some random hotel, but he did miss Harlan, and if the old man was going to be there, hopefully Ransom could get his grandfather to talk some sense into him.

“You’re sure you don’t want me to go, Gem?” Jake looked so earnest and sweet while he helped Ransom with his tie and it made him feel like the slimiest douche in the world. “I’m pretty charming. You could introduce me as your ‘roommate’.”

“I’m sure, Jake.” Ransom couldn’t even bring himself to call Jake by his nickname, he hated himself. “Trust me, aside from the food and the open bar, it’s going to suck massively.”

“Okay.” Jake leaned up to peck Ransom on the lips and he couldn’t stop himself from pulling the blond closer for just a moment. “Call me if you need a ride.”

Ransom promised he would, kissing Jake deeply for some unknown reason and looking into his eyes before saying goodbye. It felt painful and he couldn’t figure out why, like it was somehow more permanent and he wasn’t going to be home in just a few hours.

The hotel was sufficiently swanky for what he knew his mother’s expectations would be. He was even more glad that he hadn’t let Jake tag along, handing the valet the keys to that ancient jeep would have been especially awkward. There were so many blue bloods packed into the ballroom that Ransom could practically smell the old money, and he wasn’t impressed. While he was scowling and trying to get his bearings his mother found him, immediately making a stress headache begin behind his left eye.

“Hello Ransom.” God, he’d forgotten how fake the woman was. That smile was showing far too many teeth. “Thank you so much for coming. How have you been?”

“You’re really going to act like you care, mother?” Ransom let her embrace him since he didn’t feel like making a scene, but he hated every second of it. “Where’s Harlan?”

“Your grandfather wasn’t feeling his best so he’s resting at home.” Linda refused to let go of his arm when he stepped back. “But I’m very glad you’re here. There’s someone I want you to meet. This is Sloane Hargreaves.”

Linda gestured to a young woman who looked like every social climber’s wet dream, with eerily straight and white teeth and not a single blonde hair on her head out of place. She was attractive, but her eyes were sharp and cunning, like she was constantly assessing how she could maneuver a situation to her advantage. Everything about her presence put Ransom on edge, especially when she shook his hand and she let out a laugh that was just shy of shrill.

“Yeah, nice to meet you.” Ransom had to yank his hand away from her. Pretty or not she was freaking him out. “If Harlan isn’t I’m going to head home, Linda. There’s no reason for me to be here.”

“Nonsense. It’s not like you have someone to go home to.” Oh, he did not like the way Linda’s eyes glittered when she said that. “Be a gentleman and escort this lonely young lady for the night. What could it hurt?”

Aside from his patience he couldn’t come up with anything, so he just shrugged and let the bourgeois waif wind her arm through his. The way she was clinging to him didn’t help him relax at all, nor did the constant inane chatter. That combined with the cloud of Chanel No. 5 that hovered around her made his headache even worse. All he wanted was to go drink and forget about his fucked up family and the boyfriend to whom he was scared to commit.

He didn’t even know how long it had been before Sloane finally left him alone to go to the ladies room, but it was far too long. Ransom was on the far side of the room from the exit, but he still tried to make a break for it, cursing to himself under his breath when his mother intercepted him with that same, phony smile on her face.

“Now now, why are you rushing off so soon?” Linda sank her claws into his arm and steered him towards a secluded table. “I haven’t talked to you in so long and you’re already leaving.”

“Who’s fault is that?” He took the scotch she handed him and downed it in one gulp. “Why did you even bother inviting me here?”

“What, I can’t miss my son?” Linda scoffed when he just scowled at her, tapping her manicured nails against the tabletop with irritation. “Fine. Your grandfather has been talking about missing you quite a bit and is adamant about letting you back into the family. He’s gotten the idea in his head that you must have made something of yourself if you haven’t come back begging on your knees by now.”

“What’s the catch?” Ransom snorted when she tried to look coy. “C’mon, Linda. There’s no way you’d be thinking of letting me back in if there wasn’t something in it for you.”

“You’re too goddamn smart for your own good.” She muttered under her breath and shook her head before addressing him again. “I know, Ransom.”

“You know?” Ransom chuckled a few times before freezing when he saw the smug look on her face. “What do you know?”

“I know about your… god, I can’t even call it a job.” Linda sneered when Ransom seemed to shrink in on himself, leaning forward as she went in for the kill. “Not just a sex worker, but a sex worker for fa…”

“Stop.” If he had to hear that word come out of her mouth he would start crying, and he didn’t want to give her the satisfaction. “Just stop.”

“You have your disgusting job, your piece of shit apartment, and that little boy toy you’ve been fooling around with.” She tutted when Ransom buried his face in his hands and groaned. “It’s ridiculous and uncouth. I’ll not have you parading your vulgar plaything around in front of the family or our friends.”

“They're not my friends, mother.” He felt like he was going to be sick. “He’s not a toy, I love him.”

“Oh for fuck’s sake, no you don’t.” Linda sipped on her wine while she watched her son crumble in front of her without an ounce of sympathy. “You love money and being a damn pain in the ass, and as much fun as you might have introducing that fruit to society, I won’t have it. Break it off.”

“No.” Ransom shook his head and barely kept his feet as he tried to hold back a panic attack. “I don’t want to come back if I have to leave him.”

“Oh really?” She cocked her head as she gazed at him with those predatory eyes. “You come back and date that pretty, sweet blonde girl who was hanging on your arm all night and I’ll pay for everything.” When she saw Ransom go completely still she knew she had him. “I have a house all ready for you just a half an hour from Harlan’s, that gorgeous vintage BMW you always wanted, and you’ll get to be part of an important family again. All the parties, all the events, and status. Tell me you don’t want it.”

Ransom felt like the bottom just dropped out of his world. He couldn’t do this. He was a bastard but not that big of a bastard. But he was a bastard. He was dysfunctional and repressed. He was in love with Jake but he was terrified of what that meant. He didn’t know how he could possibly fit into that man’s life and make him as happy as he deserved, because Ransom knew that he didn’t deserve the happiness that Jake did. It could be better if he let him find his own way now, before he had the chance to hurt him even worse. Ransom should only be around assholes, he always knew it, the fact that he was considering this just confirmed it.

By the time he climbed into a cab to go back to the apartment he was drunk. Miserable and drunk. The pool of self pity he was wallowing in was so deep he couldn’t see the bottom. He couldn’t even find his keys, he had to have Jake buzz him up.

“Hi gem, how was it?” Jake turned around on the couch to greet him and his face immediately fell. “Oh Ransom…”

“I can’t… I can’t do this.” Ransom couldn’t bring himself to look at Jake, leaning against the wall and sinking to the floor as he buried his face in his hands. “I’m sorry.”

“Oh baby, no.” Jake jumped over the back of the couch and went to sit in front of Ransom on the floor. “Don’t apologize, you never have to apologize to me. Tell me what’s wrong.”

“Me, I’m what’s wrong.” Ransom was choking on his words but was determined to not look like the terrified little boy he felt like. “I’m too fucked up for this. I’m too fucked up for you. I can’t give you what you want.”

“All I want is you, Ransom.” Jake reached out to him and flinched when Ransom recoiled. “Just you, that’s it.”

“No it isn’t. How the fuck could it be?” Ransom could hear the pain in Jake’s voice but couldn’t stop now. “You want the family outings and to be ‘uncle Jake’ and domestic bliss. I can’t do that shit, Jake. I can hardly be in the same room as kids, much less have any of my own.”

“Ran…” Jake saw the tears falling from Ransom’s eyes and he lost it, sobbing and gripping Ransom’s hand in spite of the man trying to pull away. “As long as we fucking talk to each other we can make it. You don’t have to do this. I know you feel like you fucking do because yes, your family is that fucked up, but you don’t. I’m here for you, for whatever you need. I love you.”

“I…” Ransom wanted to tell him he didn’t love him, but that was such a fucking lie it got caught in his throat. “I have to go, Jake. I need to leave. I should be back with my family.”

“I can be your family, Ransom.” Jake couldn’t stop himself from pulling Ransom close and wrapping his arms around him. “My family can be your family. You deserve to be loved, to have a family that cares about you. I promise Ransom, you deserve the world. Please believe me.”

“I… I can’t.” Ransom finally crumbled and wept as he embraced Jake in turn. “I’m sorry, I just can’t. I want to, but I can’t. Jake, I have to go back.”

“Ransom,” both of them were a mess but that didn’t stop Jake from kissing Ransom like he was his last breath of air. “I love you so much, goddamn it. I am not going to make you stay, but you should, you can. God, please fucking stay.”

Ransom kissed him back. It was desperate, full of longing and pain. He wished the world would end before the kiss would, but then he had to breathe and reality came crashing around him. His eyes met Jake’s again and he saw the last glimmer of hope die, and he hated himself for killing it.

“I love you, Jake Jensen.” Ransom kissed Jake’s forehead and rose to his feet, staggering towards the door so he could spend the night somewhere else where he wouldn’t have to see the suffering on the face of the man he loved. “But I don’t deserve you. You’ll find someone better, I know you will.”

“Ransom, fuck, just wait.” Jake ran after him and grabbed his wrist to turn him back around. “I’m not stopping you, and I’m not going to tell you that this isn’t the most painful thing anyone has ever put me through, but I’m not going to fucking hate you. You can try all you want, but I love you, I’ll always fucking love you, and all I want is for you to be happy. If it can’t be with me, it should be with someone amazing. Don’t let your family fuck you up any worse, okay?”

“Goddamn it, don’t be such a fucking grownup, Jake.” Ransom had to stop himself from kissing the man again, wrenching himself out of Jake’s grip and running a hand through his hair. “You can keep all my shit. You should forget my number. Goodbye.”

As soon as the door closed behind him he felt his heart freeze over, the sound of Jake’s muffled sobs washing over him as he called himself a cab and went down the stairs. He managed to keep it together for the next week, his face stony and his jaw clenched as he let his mother get him set up in the new house. He even went on a date with the daughter of the upper crust family Linda foisted on him, and Christ was she boring.

It wasn’t until he was moved in, the furniture still wrapped in plastic and a few boxes left to unpack, before he let himself grieve who he’d lost and what he had done to the man he loved, collapsing on the floor and sobbing violently as the moon rose through the trees surrounding his new home. Jake was wrong, he was an absolute and total bastard who deserved nothing but unending pain for the rest of his life. So he let himself feel it, determined to never let go of the anguish that he had brought on himself.

#natalie writes #no love like your love: before #jake jensen #ransom drysdale #gem and blondie #jake jensen x ransom drysdale #ransom drysdale x jake jensen #m/m fanfic #angst #chris evans characters #eighteen plus

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bohemian-nights · 19 days

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love your blog <3

there's no reason for nettles to be cut. the only reason she's not in s2 is because they want to milk "daemyra" as much as possible and don't care about sacrificing the only canonically black character to make the main white couple look good.

it's bullshit. they do shit like this and then claim to be "progressive" ? including black character only to turn them into side kicks for the main white characters and mistreat them is not progressive. why are baela and rhaena sidelined for the strongs? in f&b they're more important. why is laena turned into the "unloved wife"? second to rhaenyra? why is vaemond framed as the villain for being angry that his home is being robbed by a white boy?

and now we have a shot of all of the dragonseeds - except nettles, the only important dragonseed. and when you try to complain the stans hit you with the "but there are other black characters" card. they say that "race doesn't exist in westeros" (LMAO) to excuse and justify luke being the heir and pretend like there's nothing problematic with a white person stealing a black family's home. they also use the "no race" card to justify nettles being erased or downplay her importance. the gaslighting and racist undertones are actually crazy.

thank you for calling these people out.

Thank you. I do try and try my best not to come off like a crazy person talking at a wall, but this fandom and this show are nuts and severely anti-Black.

I won’t say it’s worse than other fandoms, but admitting there is a problem is like pulling teeth.

You have people blatantly lie and pretend like their headcanons are actual canon which is extremely disturbing when it comes to the Black(ish) characters because those headcanons are made to take away their characterization.

There is only so much one can ignore without disregarding their self pride.

As far as the showrunners go I will say I don’t think they are trying to prop up that ghost ship because they wouldn’t have added choke-gate if they had any intention of turning Dumbnyra(I’m not respecting a ship populated by people who think it's fine to call Black characters the n-word) into an epic romance, but they are trying to hold off on putting Nettles on the show because she makes said self-insert look bad and they can’t have that.

Yet they know cutting her looks suspect considering their past actions.

They think diversity = having Black(ish) people there never mind lighting them on fire, sidling them, turning them into an undisputed villain, turning them into stereotypes, etc., and unfortunately they’ve emboldened an extremely racist and toxic fanbase with their (in)action(s).

Laena was deliberately made into the disposable Black girlfriend, but no one cared about that. No one cared about how that looked or how Black fans would feel with that being our representation. How it's harmful and damaging to see that play out time and time again. They cheered it on and called her slurs while doing so.

Now I’ve seen people claim to be concerned about Nettles and her being made into a mistress and yes there are problems with showing a Black woman as a mistress, but there are just as many if not more problems with showing a Black(ish) woman as someone’s second choice or showing us as undesirable. Not a peep was said about the latter.

The same people who are so concerned(I see y’all in her tag) are the same people who a couple of months ago were calling for Nettles to be cut and replaced with Baela and Rhaena or even Addam because they are all Black(ish) now. Never mind that Nettles’ story is vastly different from theirs.

That Nettles isn’t supposed to be indisputably Valyrian like the others(at least in the books her heritage is the least clear out of everyone present and in the show she still isn’t being claimed by anyone).

Never mind that she isn’t supposed to be Daemon's daughter(the dates don’t line up and I dare anyone to tell me they bathed naked with their father at 17; I dare anyone to say that someone who claimed a wild dragon with the highest body count during the sowing doesn’t know how to bathe herself).

Or that she isn’t just someone’s mistress(you don’t risk your life for a woman who is just your mistress).

That she isn’t an unloved unwanted woman despite who she is(Daemon chooses her. We can talk about how that isn’t “progressive” enough for some people although I’d argue that it’s progressive for a character like Nettles, but that’s what’s written in black and white).

That she’s saved and survives the Dance. She’s the only dragonseed that survives maybe even the last dragonrider for two hundred years. She certainly gains more than what she had(she becomes the spiritual leader of a tribe for God's sake).

Is Nettles’ story perfect, no, but people are holding her, her arc, and her potential characterization in the show to an unhealthy standard that they would never hold a character like Rhaenyra, Daenerys, or an even Helaena to and basing whether they like her or not based on that standard.

They aren’t allowing her to be a nuanced character let alone someone with her wants and motivations who experiences love and loss alike.

Nettles' arc is as complex as every other character in this story, but people don’t want that. They don’t even want her there.

Never mind that she’s important to the narrative and there is a reason for her complexity, it’s her skin color they see. Her skin color is the only thing they see and therefore they fail to see her as someone deserving of her dynamic arc.

Instead they want the downtrodden girl. The abused girl. The poor orphan girl who is just grateful to have found a family. The girl who can easily be placed into a box and doesn’t need any analysis whatsoever.

A girl. She doesn’t need love because she’s a girl. She doesn’t need to have her own will and desires because she’s a girl. She’s a child. She’s not a nuisance. A box of gunpowder waiting to go off and change the narrative. She’s not a threat.

I’ve talked about this before(too many times), but that’s who they want.

They can’t have a Mammy that looks too obvious given the story, or Jezebel(I imagine that’s what they’ll say she is once she appears although they’ll look crazed trying to pigeon hole her into the slut category), and they know she most likely won’t be cut, so they settle for the non-threatening, sexless, naive(selectively intellectually challenged) child.

The show calls itself diverse and the fans claim themselves to be feminists, but that’s a joke and a slap in the face to Black fans who aren't self-haters (who the fandom has harassed anytime we don’t blindly agree with and call them out on their bullshit).

Black fans don’t want characters who look like us wrapped in bubble wrap with a pretty little bow on top. We want characters (in every sense of the word), but neither the showrunners nor the fans seem to get this(tale as old as time or at least it’s centuries old).

I started ranting I’m sorry anon, but Nettles tag has been a mess so I used this as an opportunity to voice my peace. It’s extremely disturbing that you have a bunch of non-Black people trying to police Black representation particularly representation for Black women, but at the end of the day what they have to say doesn’t matter.

#bnasks #bnask #nettles #anti hotd #anti hotd fandom #fuck the show and the fandom #bncommentary #laena velaryon #hotd fandom misogynoir

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pinkandpurple360 · 4 months

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Was watching Oops and it finally hit me when Blitz called Fizz out on being a “spoiled attention whore” who gets everything he wants without effort and … Blitz is kinda right? 🤔 Like not to say Fizz didn’t work hard and had to put up with Mammon, but Fizz is basically now living it up on top, with his sugar daddy there to give him everything he needs, only has to interact with Mammon once a year, and he really doesn’t do anything to address the “purse dog” accusations. And then the way Fizz responds it by looking at the leash Ozz gave him which I guess is supposed to be heartwarming, but to me plays more like the literal pet imagery …🤢 (I don’t think Fizz is literally Ozzie’s pet but I wonder how Fizz feels about it. It probably won’t be explored)

Pampered* is what he said and yes I see why he’d think that? Though he doesn’t have the full story on that front and I’m sure he doesn’t fully believe it because he does think he ruined fizz’s life. Then again even as a kid he always got the nicer clothes and the better attention.

But yeah…the other 364 days of the year fizz says “my life has been pretty great” so him being abused ?? Contradicts that. Unless he’s being dishonest and secretive. And his critic says “all you do is work at that (redacted) sleaze joint” “you aren’t even a clown anymore” and clown and jester are used interchangeably. This hurts him as if it’s true. He’s quick to believe what others say.

Viv said he was being fake at the show and that he prefers love to lust, but is also liking tweets saying he loves it at Ozzies..??? I cant follow. And how is fizz being overly sexual and preyed on by creepy fans Mammons fault when it’s at Ozzies where all of this happens? Asmodeus doesn’t like when Fizz is sexualised and when fans ogle at him so…why does he pay fizz to do it in “the house of Asmodeus” even when fizz is branded to all ages.

Up until now the fizzbot said “shipped from big Ozzies factory” fizz says “designed by the big man himself” and Asmodeus talks about the fact he doesn’t like designing these things “for him” so I just can’t follow on who’s responsible.

I’m so confused by this narrative. It would make so much more sense if Ozzie said he regrets having a part to play rather than saying it’s all mammons fault cause he’s shitty.

Oh the leash imagery and later the fact Striker says the term ‘purse dog’, when the quivies are representative of chihuahua, is 100% on purpose. What are they doing with it? I don’t know.

Even calling Fizz a pillow princess ties into it. There’s references to ropes and handcuffs multiple times and I guess im supposed to see that as a kink joke maybe? Or literally? I’m not sure. Kinda like when Blitz is cuffed and collared in truth seekers. Mam puts cuffs on him too but those aren’t the soft fluffy kind. Idk the imagery and what I’m supposed to conclude from it is iffy, but there’s definitely a clear pattern.

Fizz’s profile on Ozzies phone, the fluffy cuffs and the imp—offensive animal nickname, whether I’m supposed to see it as cute or as something a bit symbolically darker? I dont know. When it comes to sexuality in this hellaverse anything goes. Even the imagery of Blitz and Fizz in a cage talking about Asmodeus and Stolas is interesting imagery to say the least. Striker is at least somewhat right but then blitz calls him a reverse racist or something …

What is this shows commentary on class ???? aaaaaaa

Unless Viv doesn’t…know what a pillow princess actually is, and thinks it just sounds pretty cause it has princess in it. that’s a possibility. She basically called him a selfish lover? Like Blitz to Verosika?

Fizz also makes animal noises like “meow” and “ribbit” which is basically an imp slur “fire toad” that was not played for laughs. It’s played like it’s an in universe offensive term. Ozzie doesn’t respect imps, just fizz. He calls moxie “a limp dick imp” and blitz a “feisty imp” and threatens to harm his employees who did nothing but look surprised at them both.

And the fact Fizz hurts several imps succubi and other hellborn in his tirade shows how much he has lost touch with people of his own class. Then being caught up in that fight noise gave him agency back, he was an equal teaming up with Blitzø and fighting his own fight. He fucking knocked out Striker, that’s insane change from “i just wanna go home”

As for right now I’m doubtful they’ll address issues with Ozzie because the ship is marketable and popular. They seemed to have transferred strikers commentary on royals from Asmodeus to mammon. Insisting that Asmodeus and stolas are “the good nice monarchs who do nothing wrong ever” but, who knows.

I feel like Fizz only gets to take a break when he’s with Oz, “money can’t buy happiness but it can rent you paradise” feels like this is a hint towards fizz and Ozzies tender but tumultuous, secret relationship. Because he’s been so mistreated before, he’s fine with submitting to some pampering and infantilisation but can’t fully trust it, he doesn’t fully like it, he has to lie, minimise situations, overstate his capabilities, and even beg, for some agency back. Because he’s vulnerable as a disabled imp with fame. Oz would rather Fizz not be famous anymore so people leave him alone, so he can have fizz to himself, even though it’s important to fizz. So he’s conflicted. And very happy when he quits performing. He’s definitely not the one with the agency around mammon or around Asmodeus, and his status as an imp, feeling inferior, and them as kings of sin, whom he feels unworthy of, is exactly why. When he says he doesn’t care what mammon thinks anymore….he turns back to Asmodeus for a thumbs up of approval. And relaxes when he gets it.

#helluva boss critical #fizzarozzie crit

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lockandkeyhyena · 5 months

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Maybe something that's a play on Kittypet? Or like Kittypet in a homophobic way? Mapleshade calls Houndleap Tail licker, which was definitely supposed to be ass kisser, but very funny if you take it as cat f slur.

Maybe after a cutesy animal? Like a play on fairy? Butterfly or Bunny or something?

i like these alot actually!! its super interesting to take into account clan culture and values when making up slurs for them <- sentence i never thought id say. but as much as i like ‘butterfly’ clan culture doesnt really value hypermasculinity very much? so its interesting to think about what a stereotype of gay cats would look like for clan cats. equating them to kittypets i think is a step in the right direction

maybe they’d be viewed as heartless and selfish because they can’t have kits and thats something clan cats value alot?

#um. should i tag these as homophobia? like theyre funny to me but i dont wanna make other ppl uncomfortable #hmm #lmk #yeen rambles #cant believe im taking this seriously but its like. interesting!

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huffle-dork · 3 months

Text

Swap into the CrystalVerse Chapter 25: Inverted

Co-written with @crystalninjaphoenix

Read Swapboys | Read Inverted | Read The InvertedSwap Crossover |AO3 Link

Taglist: @brokentimewatch @di-diwata

"Are you holding up?" Anti asks. They've officially reached Mirygale by now, though they're just on the edge of the surrounding suburbs and not into the proper urban area. "Need anything?" Anti looks Alt up and down, assessing his condition after so much glitching.

Alt has slumped against the nearest building he can, blinking colored spots out of his eyes. He giggles a bit breathlessly as his vision dips and sways. “ha ha… m’fineee~! J’st dizzy…!”

"...that's not fine," Anti states. "I don't know if your glitching has changed in the past eleven months, but you're not supposed to be dizzy after it." He shakes his head. "Okay. We're here. We've arrived in the city. I can start looking at the CCTV cameras for signs of your Chase. While I do that, we can sit down and take a break." He glances around. "I'm pretty sure this is a safe area. And if it's not, we can handle it."

“S’fine-“ Alt mumbles, not wanting to look too weak in front of Anti. However, when he tries to glitch to be back by Anti, his vision tunnels for a second and his knees buckle. His eyes roll for just a second as he attempts to catch himself back on the side of the building.

"Whoa!" Anti glitches forward and grabs Alt. He doesn't keep hold of him for long, just long enough to right him. Then he steps back. "Like I said, that's not fine." He glances around. "Look. Bus stop. Has a bench. We'll sit down there. I promised I'd explain things, anyway, this is just giving me an opportunity to."

Alt leans against Anti for the second he’s righted and then he nods slowly, shaking out the spots again. “M’kay-“ He slurs, trying to keep his eyes open. “Sorry-“ Ugh he wished he had Chase’s backpack- he always had some kind of snacks on him. He starts to stumble towards the bus stop.

Anti walks next to Alt for a little bit, then sighs and reaches out to help support him. The poor guy is clearly having trouble on his own. They reach the bus stop together and sit down.

Alt doesn’t protest to being helped- even though he normally would. He slumps against the bench and shakes out his head again.

"Right, you need energy, don't you?" Anti mutters. "Food. Um..." He thinks about it, then reaches to the side. His hand disappears into an invisible pocket for a second, then returns holding a handful of chocolate bars. "There. If you... need anything more specific, uh, tell me, I guess? I'm getting these from a petrol station store that won't notice snacks going missing so keep to stuff that'd be found in there."

Alt blinks up at Anti reaching- and then his eyes widen and shine with hungry excitement at the sight of the chocolate bars. He quickly starts to tear into them, hardly chewing but he nods to Anti. “These are great but- anything with protein can help- something that’ll keep me energized for a long time- maybe an energy drink?“ He stuffs another chocolate bar into his mouth as he mutters, “I was also just like- tortured in a lab for a day and all it gave me was water so I’m starving-“ He says casually, now properly distracted by actually being able to eat.

Anti nods along, sealing this to memory, and then stops. "Wait what the fuck?"

Alt blinks at him, pausing in his chewing. “…what?” His eyes then widen and he quickly looks away, “Uh f-forget about that for now! I can.. e-explain later… probably-“

"What fucking universes did you go to?! Gods." Anti shakes his head. "Okay, fine. You don't have to explain now. Protein and energy. Okay." He does the same thing, now pulling back a bag of beef jerky and an energy drink. "Here. Gods. Fucking hell."

“Too many…” Alt mutters as he takes the food from Anti and doesn’t look at him. “We’ve been… jumping for a while.” He cracks open the energy drink and takes a long swig.

Anti sighs. "Can't imagine... I know they're out there, but I can't go to other worlds on my own. The most I can manage is the Space In-Between. And my home of course, but that's a pocket dimension, not a universe, it's different. It must've been just one thing after another, huh?"

Alt nods, taking another bite of his chocolate bar. Though he laughs slightly. “that’s funny… you seem so powerful… I always thought you could go to other places.” He takes a drink. “to be fair we had help- a device we got from a place called IRIS.”

He fishes out of his pocket and shows it to Anti. “It was broken in the world we found it in… but all it needs is some of my magic and… then we can go anywhere… anywhere but Home though, it seems.” He laughs bitterly. “…it’s been like.., 5 days? A week? Honestly I’ve… lost track of time…” He grabs some of the jerky and eats some before pointing a finger at Anti. “Tell you what- catch me up on all the shit going on here… and I’ll tell you about what we’ve seen. Equal information exchange~!” He smirks.

Anti stiffens slightly at the mention of IRIS. But then he nods and moves on. "Yeah. I said I'd do that, didn't I?" He takes a deep breath. He doesn't need to, but it's steadying.

"After you guys left, Marvin started looking into other worlds. I don't think he found much, but hit led to him diving even deeper into his fucking... black magic studies. And I guess he decided he had enough of most of the others.

"He and Jameson teamed up against the rest of them. Jameson got Schneep on their side with that watch of his and... You saw Jackie's scars. Those were from Marvin. He... The two of them always hated each other. It's just that Marvin made the first move. The three of them got the jump on him and... captured him, I suppose. Moved their base from the house to this hotel area. Kept Jackie in the basement there for Marvin to fuck with for fun. He got out eventually, as you can see, but... the other two weren't so lucky.

"Jameson used his powers on Chase and Jack. Put them both deep under, deeper than he did with Schneep. Chase is providing them with money and victims by..." Anti laughs. "...by pretending to be Jack on his YouTube channel. But Jack is... He's... H-he's..." Another breath. "He's not dead, cause I'm still here. A-and I think that must've been on purpose. I think... Jameson wanted me to... I-I don't know. Realize I'm... not powerful? Jack is... You know about him, from the time we shared memories. He's... very important to me. And they turned him into a fucking doll." Anti curls up a little bit. "Just... a blank, empty shell. Something you can display. I-I don't know what they did but I can't... reach him. And then they moved him away. Somewhere with no cameras or anything, because I have no idea... where he is." Anti's voice broke. "Sam misses him, too, a lot. They don't... leave home much nowadays. They rarely did, but even less now." Another breath. "But... I'm going to find him. I'm going to fix him."

Alt listens closely, politely staying quiet. But, it all hits him like a truck. He gapes at Anti, especially when his voice breaks. He never even thought Anti could cry- He swallow thickly and looks down, “…a hotel? …my friend- she mentioned once… that her friend got dragged into this world… and was hurt in a hotel. By your guys.” He shudders, remembering things Huffle had told him.

"Yeah... I think I know what you're talking about. I was there for that. Maybe I met your friend, there were a few people there."

“That’s… thats fucked up. Massively fucked up… I’m so sorry Anti…”

Anti is quiet for a moment. Then he nods. "Thanks," he whispers. He reaches up and adjusts his scarf, briefly showing the bloodstained bandages underneath. "I'm not going to give up. Ever. I can be very patient, especially against people who deserve it." Wrath flashes in his visible eye, darkening its sclera to black for a split second. "But... that hotel. If we can't find your brother outside, we need to check there."

Alt shudders more at this and grips at his arm. “…knowing our luck lately? ….I wouldn’t doubt that he’s there…” He swallows shakily and reaches to slow pick a bit more at his snacks.

“Yeah… How bad has your luck been?” Anti asks, looking at Alt. “It looks pretty bad. You mentioned… a lab? And… IRIS.”

Alt takes a shaky breath and laughs, “Right.” He grips the energy drink can in his hands as he starts. “It all started when Mag took me into a secret room under our own freaky organization’s headquarters- they’re called SCLERA but I think they’re like IRIS. Anyways- he took me and Chase managed to glitch with us- and he found… an archway. Just like the one in the museum that brought us here the first time. He figured out it just needed black magic and my glitches to work. So he.. corrupted me- made me activate it. Chase luckily managed to come with us…

“Then we ended up in- in a universe we hadn’t been to. But with versions of us we met before- oh yeah it’s… it’s the guys I tried to call you about… they have a freaky version of Chase called Distorter.” He shudders and digs his nails into the can.

“… long story short there- Distorter led all of us to an old Iris facility- where we found the device we’ve been using. The TRVLR. The only problem is- we cant tell which universe is which. They’re all just labeled by jumbled up numbers and letters. So we’ve been just… picking one and hoping it leads back home.

“Obviously- none of them have been home yet. The second one we went to… had some really messed up guys. Their chase had… strings in his skin- and their Anti. They were… they were literally two people stitched together by black magic.” He laughs a bit more, but it sounds scared. “…you mentioned Amp earlier… Something like Amp happened to me there too.. I.. I glitched- and I.. I merged with them.” Instinctual tears fall down his face as he chuckles hollowly. “It was… it was awful.”

Anti's eye widens. "What?" he breathes. "You... you got stuck with some... being made of black magic?" He pauses. "...Stitches. I know of him. That world is close to this one. Gods, Alt. I'm... I'm so sorry. If it was like Amp... gods." Their thoughts had merged together. The pain and hatred that Alt must have endured in that fusion...

Alt laughs, sounding a little unhinged. “That’s what he’s called? Ha… how fitting…” He grips at the can more, denting it and feeling the metal poke into his skin. “…I could feel them- Marvin and Jackie… they were tearing apart- they were… it was horrible. To see their- pain and hate combining to make… that world’s version of me.”

He blinks more tears out of his eyes and tries to hide his shaking. “Of course it didn’t end there… but Um… we did manage to find a kinda nice universe after that? They had um… kid versions of us. Met a sweet teenaged Jackie and… a little budding magician Marvin.” He smiles at the memory, touching the trans pin on his jacket. “The magic there was… strange though. They called it greenlight. But- we even managed to help out a younger Anti… I felt so bad for him… he just- didn’t understand. How humans worked but… I think he just wanted to play.”

"...wait a... greenlight?" Anti blinks. "I--huh. I wonder..." He shakes his head. "Nevermind. This isn't the time. Well, that sounded alright. Some risk, I'm assuming with Magnificent tagging along, but not as bad as Stitches' world. "

Alt shakes his head with a smile. “No it was… it was nice. I… I adored that Marvin kid.”

He then sighs and tries to remember what came next. “Then… oh! Chase loved the next one- it was full of supers. Like- all of us had superpowers. There was a league and Jackie was the main hero there- like Bro is ours. We had to save their chase and… oh yeah there was… a really freaky Anti there too. He… he knew about me and chase just from our phones but- he didn’t actually wanna hurt us. Said he just wanted to observe. He was a freaky bastard.”

“Oh but then! The next one was wild! We ended up in a like- fantasy world- I think they called it Glasuil- Mag got captured by their king who was… also freaky. He like- actually controlled Mag. But I~ kicked his ass~!” He grins, pointing to himself with his thumb before focusing back on his retelling.

“But… I think being away from tech messed with the TRVLR… so it must have clicked on the wrong universe because that’s… that’s where the.. freaky doctor thing found me. Called itself Notarzt…”

"You ended up in THAT fucking world?!" Anti shouts. What follows is a series of curses in Irish and Gaelic. "Gods, Alt! Holy shit. Again, never been there, but I definitely know of that one. No wonder you're so fucking hurt. Gods. Fuck." He shakes his head. "I'm glad you got out of there. I thought things were bad here, but it must seem like a picnic after that."

Alt flinches at Anti’s shout and grips at his bandaged arm, shaking slightly. He swallows thickly. “Yeah I-it really sucked… met another freaky Anti there too. … it took us a long time to realize that those… things were more versions of us…”

He then sighs and gestures at the space around them. “And now! We’re here~” He ends his recap by taking another bite of a chocolate bar with a loud crack.

Anti can probably see how exhausted Alt looks by his posture alone. “…but we keep going. That’s what Chase always says… we keep going.”

Anti nods. "We keep going," he repeats in a quiet voice, scanning the city skyline as if it holds the solution to all his problems.

"If it helps, Alt... I might be able to help you figure out which world is yours. I know a lot about universes... and about how IRIS would number things. Maybe I could identify what they called yours."

Alt looks back at Anti with wide eyes. “R-Really?” He then laughs quietly and looks relieved. “That… that would be amazing. I wanna go home so. bad.” He starts to finish up his snacks and ball up the trash, feeling his energy coming back. “…we just gotta find my brother first. Anddd also unfortunately Mag…”

"Right. Him." Alt can practically hear Anti's teeth grinding in anger. "I guess he needs to go back to your universe. To preserve your stories, or whatever the fuck They said."

“Unless you wanna take him- but I think you have enough problems,” Alt chuckles bitterly.

Anti forces himself to calm down--god he wants to kill Magnificent, even more after hearing he started Alt and Bro's journey of suffering. But he'll restrain himself.

"Well... I've been running a background process to check the camera footage, and either your brother is somewhere without cameras... or he's in the hotel. They put up wards to block external eyes so I'm blocked off from there. Not blocked off from going in, though."

Alt listens and then gets up, throwing away all the wrappers and stuff from his snacks then shaking himself out, body shuddering with glitches. His eyes glow with renewed power as he looks back at Anti. “well… guess we got a hotel to check into then-“

Anti laughs. “Yeah. I guess we do. Come on.” He stands up and glitches farther down the street, waiting on a corner for Alt to join.

Alt smirks and then glitches right after Anti.

——————

It’s completely dark in the room, which is really disconcerting. Marvin had dragged him down the stairs with complete confidence. And while Bro was still recovering from the pain that his magic was causing, he locked a pair of chains around each wrist, binding him to the wall. And after a slight pause, he locked one around his neck too. A collar with a very short leash.

Bro struggles against the chains and then chokes in surprise at the collar being put around his neck. “Uh… this seems kinda kinky-“ He mumbles.

Marvin pauses. “Oh, you’re a talker.” He doesn’t sound particularly happy about that. “Fine. I can work with that.” Another pause. “I have no interest in that stuff by the way.” The defensiveness in his voice would’ve been funny if it didn’t have that uncanny echo.

“Oh yeah of course not-“ Bro mutters. “That’s why you do it without a second thought-“

Bro can see Marvin’s eyes glowing in the darkness. He can hear him walking across the concrete floor of the room but he can’t see what he’s doing. “Hmmm…” Marvin hums. A bit of bright violet magic gathers in his hand and splatters to the ground, where it clusters together and forms the shape of a translucent glowing cat. The cat construct shakes itself and walks closer to Bro.

Bro looks down at the cat with confusion and then tries to push himself back. “Uhhhh n-nice kitty…?”

The cat walks closer. It tilts its head to the side, looking at him. Well it doesn’t have eyes, but it feels like it’s looking at him. Then it places one front paw on Bro’s leg. Followed by another. Alt has a cat so Bro is probably used to this behavior. He is not used to the burning feeling that pops up where the cat construct’s paws touch him.

Bro blinks at the cat and then yells out as it climbs onto him. He kicks out his legs to try to get it off.

The cat digs its claws in but a couple tries knocks it off. “Thaaaaat’s not very nice, Chase,” Marvin says. “I didn’t know you were ailurophobic. Don’t worry! It just wants to check you out.”

“That’s a big word!” Chase comments with rising panic. “But if it means what I think it means no! I’m not scared of cats! I’m wary of freaky ones that burn me though!”

The cat recovers and approaches Bro again. A normal cat would be cautious of someone who just kicked it away, but this is not a normal cat. It hops right onto Bro’s lap, the burning sensation coming with it as it sits and curls its tail around it.

Bro yells out as the cat sits on him and grits his teeth, trying to figure out how to get it off.

“Well you better get used to it,” Marvin says bluntly. “If you can’t handle this you’re not going to last very long.”

As Marvin talks, the cat gets up on its hind legs and presses its front paws against Bro’s chest. Its head moves closer to his face like it’s sniffing him, though it doesn’t have a nose. Then it lies down, resting its whole body across his chest. There’s a slight hissing sound coming from it. Not like how cats actually hiss. Like the sound of water hitting hot metal.

Bro squirms under the cat and bites back any yells or whimpers that want to escape him. He can’t let Marvin think he’s already winning- he’s stronger than this… this is nothing!

The cat stays there for maybe a minute, the burning just feeling worse the longer it goes on. Then it abruptly dissolves into violet magic, which drips down Bro's chest before fading away.

Bro gasps quietly as the cat leaves, taking in careful breaths to try to work through the pain.

"Interesting," Marvin says. There's the clink of glass, and then Marvin approaches Bro, crouching down next to him. "Did you know you have a very unique soul?" The light from Marvin's glowing eyes makes his grinning face into a ghoulish mask.

Bro flinches as Marvin crouches next to him and tries to move away. “Ha- well, my aunts did always tell me I was special~” He tries to joke.

"So sorry for you," Marvin says insincerely. Before Bro can wonder what that means, Marvin takes out a long needle--and pricks him with it. And 'prick' really is the right word. Despite the length of the needle it barely goes into Bro's skin before Marvin withdraws it. He puts the needle in a glass tube filled with some sort of clear liquid, then caps the tube, stands up, and walks away.

Bro yelps out in surprise and blinks at Marvin in confusion. “..the hell does that mean? Is that a comment about my soul or my aunts? are you being homophobic right now? Or ableist cuz that’s not what I meant by ‘special’!”

Chase can see Marvin's eyes rolling perfectly well because of their glow. "The fact that you think I would be either of those things when my only friend is Jameson is insulting," he says, mostly to himself.

“To be honest- don’t know much about the guy besides the fact that he hypnotized my brother and my friends- but good for him being gay I guess? Does that give him a ‘not-as-much-of-an-asshole-as-you-could-have-been award’?” Bro says dryly.

Marvin’s voice drops into a deeper mutter that Bro can barely hear with his super hearing. "This is what happens when I try to be sympathetic, why did I even try..." Then he turns back to him. "You know, I waaaas going to just leave you here while we wait for the taglock to settle, but I guessss you'd rather stay and chat some more."

Bro’s eyes furrow as he hears Marvin mutter. “I mean- I like talking but you clearly don’t. But, at least I can ask some questions. …why were you trying to be sympathetic? What’s a tag lock? The fuck are you planning to do to me?”

"Heh." Marvin grins. "I didn't mean it literally, but sure. Why not." He walks up to Bro and crouches down again. Nothing in his hands this time. "For the first one. IIII know what it's like to be called that. It's not pleasant. IIII thought we might have something in common. Guess I was wrong. And a taglock is the process one uses to extract a tiiiny portion of your soul power and distill it into essence. Don't worry. Your soul recharges most power over time, such a small amount won't make a difference. As for the last question... I think it's more fun if it's a surprise. Fun for me, of course."

Bro frowns and looks at Marvin with a mixed look. ….he didn’t really feel like he was seen too different until he got his powers. And even then- his powers were a good thing. It was hard to deal with at first but… he’s glad he has them. He did get made fun of for being ADHD but- that didn’t really bother him much. “Hm- I guess our definitions of ‘special’ are different. I don’t think I was ever at your level.” He spits darkly. But then he blinks and furrows his eyebrows together, “Soul power? The fuck is that??”

Marvin's expression darkens as Bro speaks. "Don't worry about it," he says. "Just know you'll get it back. You probably already have it back. Now." Suddenly, his hand shoots out and grabs Bro by the hair, slamming his head back against the wall. "I want to try something out."

Bro yells out as his vision flashes white for a second- his head hitting the wall with a loud thud. But, he bares his teeth at Marvin and he lets power shine in his eyes. "Whatcha gonna do? Burn me with more cats?"

Marvin grins. "That was just a probe. Not really an actual spell." He adjusts his grip, now holding Bro's head in both hands, forcing him to look him in the eyes. "Not like this." Marvin's eyes glow brighter.

Bro writhes and tries to push out of Marvin's grip, a mounting fear weighing down his chest. He doesn't like the look in Marvin's eyes so he closes his, trying to shrink away.

"Scared?" Marvin adjusts his grip, prying Bro's eyelids open again with his thumbs. "You should be."

Bro's vision starts to swim. Fuzzy shapes start to form, repeating fractals, looping like a kaleidoscope, like seeing the angles of a room degrade and then rebuild and then degrade again. He couldn't put a color to the shapes if he wanted to, nor a type, but they're undeniably there. His head starts to hurt.

Bro swallows shakily as his vision swims with confusing patterns. He blinks rapidly, trying to make sense of it. "W-What are you doing?"

Marvin lets go of Bro's head. It's too late now. The spell is already in motion, even if he closes his eyes he'll see the patterns.

"Have you ever had a geometric nightmare?" Marvin asks. "That's not what they're called officially, but you'd know if you had one. This is it. But worse."

The patterns are repeating, growing. They're getting closer--no, Bro is getting closer, he's falling, falling, falling but he can't get his body to respond in time to fly. The shapes fracture, a swirl of swooping hills and broken glass. The rest of the room is wavering. To an outside observer, it looks like Bro's eyes are filled with concentric purple circles. To him, he feels sick. His ears are ringing. His head is aching, a sharp pain like the world's worst migraine.

Bro slumps against the wall, his eyes wide as he tries to blink past the patterns. He can't tell what's up and what's down. He tries to push himself up but that only makes him feel sicker. He shuts his eyes to try to get rid of it but it only makes it worse. "h-hngh-!" His head is killing him- what is this??

Smiling, Marvin stands up. "Have fun with that. I'll be back in... thirty minutes or so to dispel that." And he turns and leaves the room. Bro can hear him go up the stairs but with the darkness and the spiraling fractal patterns he can't see anything.

Bro shakily tries to push up after him. "W-Wait-!" He then crashes to the floor, his chains going taut and his collar choking him. He whimpers and curls up, alleviating some pressure and trying to breathe through the pain. He's a hero- he's strong-! He can handle this.. right?

The patterns show no sign of stopping their dizzying display.

-----------

Being a cat wandering the city at night is very different than wandering it as a person. For one, it's slower. Mag feels like he's been walking forever and he's still in this run-down part of town filled with condemned, vandalized buildings. Or maybe the urban maintenance of this city is just that bad.

Mag growls to himself. It was also slow because he was stabbed multiple times. Just his fucking luck. He tries his best to get around though- looking for a source of magic. Though... hm. If he's back in the universe with that goody two-shoes Anti- then his friends were... a problem. Sure, he got the upper hand on their Marvin and almost won. But, he had been defeated. And trying to steal from those idiots again might get him killed... So- guess the main focus was to try to find his cub. Again... this was starting to get old. He missed having the upper hand.

As he turns the corner, he feels... something. Something familiar. Not a magician, but... some sort of talisman. There's a small alleyway in between two buildings with a large dumpster. A man is shoving garbage bags into it while a second man watches.

Magnificent pauses at the feeling. Huh... he knows that feeling. He slinks into the alley's shadows and prowls closer, trying to get a better look.

The man moving the garbage bags is a stranger, but the other is very familiar. Wearing a red vest and black tie, looking very out of place in this environment, is this world's Jameson Jackson. He must be supervising the disposal of... what is in those bags? Magnificent's enhanced cat nose detects blood and something that smells like death.

Magnificent can't help but hiss at both the sight of Jameson and the smell. He knew the Jackson here was fucked up like all the others- but what the hell was he doing?

Jameson tilts his head... and looks over, right at Magnificent. {That is not the mind of an animal.} The voice says in Magnificent's mind.

Magnificent stiffens and tries his best to keep his mind blank as he backs up and hisses more at Jameson.

Jameson narrows his eyes at the cat... then sighs and turns away. This isn't the time to focus on that. Someone could come across at any minute. He'll keep an eye on that probably-magician and address it after they're done.

{Hurry up, please,} he tells... ah, he can never remember their names when they're new. But whoever it is, he does speed up on command.

Magnificent blinks almost comically. ... he did not expect that to work. But soon he curls up on the ground, watching with narrowed eyes, his tail flicking. ...if Jackson is up to something- maybe it'll lead him to wherever Alt would be. Plus... he can't help but be curious. This was the magic that held his own fools- he never really got to observe how to worked closely. He can't deny its fascinating.

It's not long before the man finishes putting the bags in the dumpster. Jameson nods, satisfied. Schneep used to be better at disposal, but now he can hardly remember to. A distasteful side effect of the control but one Jameson would have to live with.

{Follow,} he says to his man, and he two of them start walking down the alleyway towards Magnificent. Time to check that out.

Magnificent freezes and backs up more into the shadows- trying to keep his mind blank again. Act like a cat... he's surprisingly good at that. He hisses as they approach then tries to dart past them-

{Grab it,} Jameson commands, and the man scoops up the cat as it runs past, holding it up for Jameson to see. {I thought you might be that man who took Mr. Parker away, but I don't think he would find hypnotism fascinating. And yet there's something familiar about you...} Jameson narrows his eyes.

Magnificent yowls and tries to scratch at the man grabbing him. He hisses and narrows his eyes at Jameson- and as soon as they make eye contact Magnificent tries to send a flood of hypnotic power into him.

The man doesn't let go, seemingly unfazed by the cat scratching. But then Jameson makes eye contact. He staggers backwards from the force of the power. {Oh--I remember you now--} He shudders, closing his eyes, but it's too late. Magnificent has control... but it's not as complete as he would have wanted. Or as it was last time. It's like there's some sort of... slippery coating around Jameson's mind this time, letting him struggle against Mag's power.

Magnificent grins and shifts back into his human form to prowl around Jameson. “Well~! Jameson Jackson… we meet again~! How good it is to see you again, pet~” He hums in amusement. He goes to grab Jameson by the chin then slams him against the alley wall, baring his fangs. “Feels like you have some new tricks up your sleeves… perhaps you can enlighten me to what all you and your devious friends have been up to, hm?” While he still has control- he tries to pry and pick apart Jameson’s memories, seeing what he can learn.

Jameson gasps, a voiceless cry. He tries to hide his memories at first, and then suddenly stops resisting, as if letting Magnificent take them.

What follows is a rapid slideshow of a descent into madness. Marvin's descent into madness, to be specific. Studying with a fervor, taking people to try spells on, stealing and killing and doing anything to get more spells. Mag sees Marvin approach Jameson about controlling the others, something he easily agrees to. First, the spell on Schneep, twisting his mind's tendency for delusions inward. Then, the capture of Jackie, who isn't expecting Schneep's betrayal. The moving to the hotel. The screams from the basement. Chase and Jack's hypnotism, making one the other and forcing the other to listless life. Marvin's continued descent. There's an incident in there with a handful of teens and young adults, that's strange--but even stranger is the more recent memory of just a couple weeks ago. When a ripple of magic spread out from Marvin's apartment in the hotel. Jameson rushed over... and saw Marvin grinning at him with glowing purple eyes, hands full of black violet magic that, even in a memory, gives off this feeling of wrongness that makes the hair on Mag's neck stand up. "I've done it," the memory says. "This is it. This power... I can do anything."

Magnificent breaks the connection and staggers back a bit, processing the information. Then, he throws his head back and laughs, grinning at Jameson. “I see… my stupid doppelgänger has let himself be consumed, hm? How amusing… fascinating to see really~! Maybe I should observe up close…” He muses.

Jameson shudders. {Is it "letting" it happen if one jumps in headfirst...?} The thought drifts into Mag's head, then fades away as his control tightens again.

Magnificent chuckles, “Those of us with stronger will power know how to reach the edge but not fall in~” He sings with confidence. He turns to Jameson and smiles, “Jackson- would you be a dear and lead me to your base of operations?”

He resists for a moment before nodding jerkily. {We... walked here. It's not... too far.} He continues down the alleyway towards the street. The man he had hypnotized just stands there.

Magnificent hums with a smirk and then glances at the man. He makes a shooing motion at him. “We have no more use for you- get lost.” He then follows after Jameson.

Jameson nods, unwillingly agreeing with Magnificent. The hypnotized man wanders off. The other two head down the street, walking to the hotel.

-----------

Anti suddenly stops. "Wait. I forgot." They've reached a part of town surrounded by restaurants and short hotels. They all look fairly old, overtaken by urban decay. The hotel where the others are staying can't be too far now.

Alt pauses and turns to look at Anti, raising an eyebrow, “Forgot what?”

"Marvin." Anti looks at Alt with a serious expression. "Do you know what a Void is? Do they exist in your world? Well, the name might be different..."

Alt furrows his eyebrows and tries to think, “mmm… I feel like my mentor has mentioned something like that… something- consumed completely by black magic? If I had to guess-“

"Yes, that's it exactly." Anti nods. "A couple weeks ago I ran into Marvin while he was out looking for more magic. Or... what used to be Marvin. He's become a Void now. Which means that not only is he much, much more powerful, but he has even less impulse control than he used to and is pretty much running on straight emotion, not logic."

Alt shudders at the description of Marvin and swallows thickly. “Okay… sounds horrifying-“ He does hum in thought though, “…running on emotions- we can work with that though.”

Anti nods. He keeps walking as he talks--more proof that they're close. "We could. I'm sure he's just as easy to distract as he used to be, if not more so. But remember to be careful. That Void magic of his burns like acid."

Alt walks after Anti and shudders again at the mention of his magic. He grips at his bandages and nods. “noted… I would very much like to avoid that-“

"Oh shit, wait, something else." Anti's visible eye widens. "They have the whole place rigged up with a... what's the word? It disperses gas throughout the building. I forgot you breathe. We need a solution for if they decide to use that..."

“They fucking rigged the place with gas?!” Alt gasps. Then he curses and throws up his hands, “Of all the times it would have been nice to have my mask! But nooo Mag had to kidnap me from the comfort of my home where I don’t wear it! Fucking asshole-!” He grumbles.

Anti blinks. "It's like a bandanna, right? Here." He takes his scarf off and passes it over. "That should work."

Alt blinks in surprise and holds up his hands. “hey I can’t just… take your scarf- don’t you need it?”

Anti smiles sadly. "No, not really. Just to hide this." He gestures at the bandages around his neck. "People find it disturbing usually. I do like my scarf, so I'd like it back, but I think having you not pass out if they flood the halls with sedative is a higher priority."

“….I guess I can’t argue with that…” Alt mumbles. He looks at the scarf and then loops it around his neck. He’s not one of scarves usually but- it almost feels like his mask and it helps bring him a bit of comfort. “Heh- wonder if they’ll get us confused easier now.” He laughs.

"Heh. Probably." Anti smiles. "Now come on. We're almost there."

-----------

Bro lost track of time a while ago. The fractal shapes covering his vision haven't wavered once, nor has the pattern repeated. Or... has it? Maybe? The pain hasn't wavered either.

Bro is curled up as much as he can while being restrained. He gasps for breath, grunts in pain and is genuinely just trying to keep going. Keep going- keep going. He’s never felt so fucking sick and dizzy though- it’s like a screw is being drilled into his skull. Part of him is hoping he’ll pass out- but some part of him also whispers that he won’t be that lucky.

He's in too much pain to hear the footsteps coming down the concrete stairs. But he does notice the purple glow that cuts through the shapes, increasing until they burn away. The pain is gone, but its shadow remains.

Marvin is holding his head again, the same way he did to cast the spell in the first place. His eyes fade back to their faint glow as he smiles. "You don't look so good."

Bro cries out as he’s grabbed and then pants in Marvin’s grip. He glares at him and snorts. “J-Jeez- wonder what that is…? Not like I just had my head fucked up by s-shapes or anything-“

Marvin grins. "Noooo, of course not." He's being a little shit and he knows it. "Do you need a moment? Hmmm?" He conjures a handful of black-violet magic, casting a purple glow around the scene. He's holding something else in his other hand but Bro can't quite see it.

“Oh no by all means keep it coming, cat bitch.” Bro drawls out sarcastically. “Why even ask? I know you’re not going to-“

"Correct." Marvin holds up the item in his other hand. It's the glass tube from earlier, but now the liquid inside has turned from clear to opaque. It's hard to tell in the purple lighting, but it's a pastel orange color. "Can you guess what this is?"

Bro leans against the wall and raises an eyebrow at the tube. “Some magic bullshit- if I had to guess.” He snarks tiredly.

"Oh come ooooon, I told you about it earlier," Marvin goads. "Did you forget? I guess your memory isn't that great right now."

“No, I just don’t care-“ Bro tries to quip.

Marvin shakes the tube. "This is your soul essence, Chase." He popped the cap off. "Let's see..." He tilted the tube, sending a drop of the essence into the magic he's holding. Bro feels a sudden sharp pain in his chest. Right in the center.

Bro yells and doubles over, clawing at his chest with a choked gasp of pain.

"You should care," Marvin says. "I wiiiiill admit that the reaction you just had? Very strange. I've never done this before, but I'm sure the spells would list that." He pours a couple more droplets into the magic, Bro feeling the pain again every time, and then caps it. The color of his magic is different now. Very slightly, but it's a bit more red, a bit lighter in tone.

Bro screams out and braces his arm against the floor, bending on his elbow. The other hand clutches at his chest as he heaves through the pain. Bro struggles to lift up his head and then looks at Marvin’s magic with wide eyes. “Wha… what did you do?!”

"I've just infused my magic with your essence," Marvin says, grinning like a madman. "Normally this could mean I could heal you better, or find you easily with a tracking spell. But I want to see what else I can do." He puts the glass vial away and presses his handful of magic against Bro's chest.

“T-That’s insane why would you want to do-?” Bro protests before the magic gets put on his chest. During the awkward moment of silence Bro finally laughs nervously. “…can you not like- try to magic my tit…?”

Nothing happens. Marvin tilts his head, looking thoughtful. Then he stands up, slowly pulling his hand away. The magic stretches into a rope. As Marvin steps backwards away from Bro, he feels a strange pulling sensation in his chest, right where that pain was.

Bro regrets trying to joke as the strange pull makes him let out another choked gasp. He squirms and tries to back up. “Ew ew stop!! That feels fucking freaky!”

Marvin grins. "Does it?" He gives the magic rope a tug. The pulling increases to the point of near-pain.

Bro cries out as he's pulled. He tries not to show how much this is freaking him out. He knows next to nothing about magic- no matter how much Alt explains it to him it just doesn't click. So he's confused beyond all belief right now.

"I wonder... If I remember, your Anti can use electricity, right?" Marvin's free hand lights up with purple electricity. "Has he ever shocked you? Does it feel like this?" He grabs the magic rope with both hands. Violet magic races down it and into Bro.

Bro doesn't even get a chance to answer Marvin's questions before his body is flooded with electricity from the rope. He screams and spasms, crashing into the wall and craning his neck as his body writhes out of his control.

Marvin laughs. His grip on the rope slackens but he doesn't let go. He tilts his head, teeth bared in a smile, eyes alight. "What about this?" One hand crackles with icy power. Before Bro can recover, he sends that down the rope as well.

Bro yells again, now curling up and trying to claw at the burning cold invading his chest.

And he laughs again. "Oooone last try." The final magic is flame, burning violet. It races down the rope.

Bro crashes to the floor, screaming out in agony as he writhes on the ground, straining to try to get away from the burning pain.

Marvin drops the rope, waiting for Bro to calm down, watching with a smile.

Bro blinks pained tears out of his eyes as he heaves and tries to get his senses back. The room tilts and sways and he can hardly make Marvin out through the dizzying vision. "y-you... you bitch...!" He tries to snarl, but he's too wracked with pain to make it sound threatening.

"Not very creative, aaare yoouu?" Marvin says. "Just... impulsive. Like another do-gooder I knew." His face curls in disgust. "I hope the wounds killed him." He leans back against the wall. "Well, let me ask you a question, Chase. What would you prefer? To keep going like this? Or... I could hand you over to Schneep. He was really excited about this. Or maybe I could even hand you to Jameson. Now that I have your soul essence, he could put you under really... really... deep. In all honesty, that one's probably the least painful option for you. Dolls don't feel pain."

Chase struggles to push himself up on shaking arms. He bares his teeth at Marvin, blue trying to light up in his eyes. "Y-You don't s-scare me... W-Whatever you bastards do to me- it won't fucking stick. I won't become some doll or plaything or whatever you sick freaks have planned! Heroes don't get taken down- we keep going." He then laughs, sounding a bit unhinged. "And I know Alt is gonna find me. He probably will find your Anti too- and I know you fucks are scared of him. They'll kick your sorry asses!"

Marvin's eyes briefly flash brighter. "AFRAID of Anti? No, no. Never afraid. And even if we were, that was before. This is now. I've fought him with this new power and he ran like a bitch." He bares his teeth in a sharp grin. "As for your Anti, I'm sure Schneep will be excited for that, too."

Bro's eyes flash bright with blue power and he pushes himself up more, yelling in rage. "If you let that doctor bitch anywhere near Alt I swear to fuck I'll-!"

He stands up straight, moving around in the darkness. "Well, I offered you a choice and you threw it away. Though to be honest, I probably wouldn't have done what you asked anyway. So you're stuck here. With me. And with them."

He gathers magic in his hands and drops it to the ground--once, twice, three times. Each one splashes and forms another cat. Similar to the other one... but bigger. And these ones have claws and mouths with sharp, sharp teeth.

The hero cuts himself off as the new cats form and he slowly tries to back up. He growls and then tries to see if he can shoot Marvin with a concentrated electric blast.

Marvin sidesteps the blast, which cracks against the concrete wall, briefly illuminating the room. The walls are blackened and pitted like they were splashed with acid. Runes are drawn on the floor.

"Oh... I see then." His voice drips with venom. "Have the runes on those shackles worn off? Or does it simply not work on you? Either way, you've fucked yourself, Chase Brody."

And the three cat constructs pounce.

Bro yells out in rage- trying to pull against the shackles to go after Marvin. But, then, the cats pounce. And Chase screams, trying to pull them off or kick them or just- anything! But, soon enough he's back in a heap on the ground, crying out and curling up to try to protect himself.

Marvin leans back against the wall, watching with grim satisfaction.

-----------

The outside of the hotel blends in with the surrounding environment perfectly, not standing out at all. But Jameson walks up to it with certainty, stopping outside the front doors. {This is it,} he says reluctantly.

Magnificent smirks and then gestures towards the door, "Well, Jackson? Are you not going to show me around? I am a guest after all~" He grins.

Jameson grits his teeth and tries to resist, but doesn't quite manage to. He pulls a set of keys out of his pocket and unlocks the door, holding it open for Magnificent to walk inside.

Magnificent giggles and bows a bit to Jameson before striding in. He takes in the look of the lobby and whistles. "My! What a fancy place you all have found~!"

The lobby is empty. Schneep was in here earlier when Bro popped in, but not anymore. Jameson walks in behind Magnificent. {Where... do you want to see?} It's like the question is dragged out of him.

Magnificent hums and then grins at Jameson, “Why don’t you show me where Marvin learned all those interesting things, hm? Perhaps it can help me as well~”

Jameson nods jerkily. He heads around the long desk in the lobby towards a door behind it.

Then, suddenly, lunges for it, reaching under the desk for something--

But shortly after he grabs it he freezes again. A small knife clatters to the floor.

Magnificent yells and tries to stop Jameson- then he growls as he sees the knife fall. He throws out strings to wrap about Jameson as he walks towards him, tsking softly. "Jackson, Jackson, Jackson... must we play these games?"

Jameson stiffens as the strings wrap around him. He tries to struggle against them but Magnificent's power is still too strong. {Yes,} he says, giving him as much of a glare as he can muster. {I've lived too long to fall to an arrogant child like you without a token of resistance.}

Magnificent laughs and then kneels down by Jameson, pulling him up by his hair to grin wide in his face. "And yet, my age hasn't stopped me from overpowering you once again~ How is all that experience aiding you right now, old-timer?" He then throws Jameson's head down to the ground and whips out some magic to keep Jameson pinned. "If you're going to be so difficult- then I'll find all your secrets on my own. You can sit here and writhe for all I care." Mag snorts and then in a flicker of static he disappears behind the door Jameson was heading towards.

As he disappears, he doesn't see a small smile flicker across Jameson's face. He also doesn't notice the small button on the underside of the desk, right where Jameson pulled the knife from.

Behind the door are stacks and stacks of books, paper, manuscripts, and all sorts of writing. It's not very organized, but the sheer amount of knowledge is impressive.

Magnificent laughs quietly and starts to prowl through the stacks, looking for anything interesting.

The variety of these books and texts is also impressive. All very dark magic, of course, but it covers just about any subject. There is a particular emphasis on the body, mind, and soul of a person, and how to use it all to your advantage, how to manipulate it, causing pain. There are also a smattering of texts about other worlds. There is a diagram of the doorway that was used to take them here the first time.

This immediately peaks his interest and he heads over to the diagram- trying to see what Marvin has learned about the doorway... maybe it could help his future plans.

Not much, apparently. This diagram, handwritten in writing that is not Marvin's, talks about how the doorway is something that naturally appears in remote areas around the world. The runes on the stone side are in various runic languages, and some of them are unknown. The only one repeated is an angled spiral in the two top corners. All other known runes mean either "travel" or "world." The magicians have found that they cannot destroy the doorway with magic or conventional means, though there has been debate about doing something so drastic as dropping it in a volcano or putting it in the path of a powerful bomb.

Magnificent does find this interesting though- good to know they're naturally occurring... He could use that to his advantage some day. And them being hard to destroy is a good thing too. Satisfied with this he looks around to see what more there is about the other worlds-

Most of the materials about that are sparse, about theories on why there are other worlds and how to reach them. But there is a book--thin but there--that lists magicians' attempts to reach other worlds.

There is a faint hiss coming from somewhere in the room. But Magnificent is too engrossed in his search and studies to pay it much mind.

Magnificent hums slightly and leafs through the book, reading through the attempts. He doesn't suspect anything is wrong- the pull of knowledge got its hold on him.

Most of the attempts are nothing interesting, more listing what doesn't work than what does. Most often, people disappear in their attempts and never return. But there are a handful of methods that work. It's most reliable to scry into other nearby universes--though which universes are nearby will change, as it seems they tend to move around while still staying in the same general position. Interestingly, the stone doorway is listed as having the potential to send others to new worlds, but it activates rarely, seemingly on its own.

Magnificent finds this fascinating. And can't help but chuckle that he has found a way to power the doorway when whoever wrote this can't. It feels him with a sense of twisted pride. He only needs to learn to control it- or gain control of the device from Alt...

There is a white mist spreading across the floor.

The mad magician blinks and sees the mist spreading across the floor. He stumbles back, "What the?!" He tries to look for an exit.

The door behind him has closed. There is a sweet smell in the air that makes his head spin.

Magnificent staggers and fumbles to hold himself up against one of the stacks. He curses in Gaelic and tries to see if he can teleport out of here.

Can he concentrate enough to do that? Can he muster up the focus? Whatever this is, it's taking effect fast.

He can't concentrate enough- trying to teleport out of the room has him knocking into the wall on the other side of the room. He curses and then feels so dizzy, he crashes down to his knees. "Fucking Jackson-! I should have known...!" He growls angrily, trying to focus on staying awake.

The room continues to fill with sweet fog. Magnificent's head swims and concentrating becomes even more difficult, disconnected thoughts in a darkening mind.

It's not long before the fog overtakes the dark magician and he sinks heavily to the ground, passing out in the fog.

It takes a couple minutes for the fog to disperse. Then the door opens. Schneep leans in, pressing some cloth to his face just in case. Jameson is behind him, doing the same.

"Aha!" Schneep says. "I honestly was not sure that would work."

{He asked for knowledge, and his desire for it overtook him,} Jameson says. {Now then. What shall we do?}

"Marvin is using the practice for the other-universe Chase," Schneep says.

{Oh? He's here too?}

"Yes. I thought he was our Chase before and I was very concerned because he wanted to go outside. So I pressed the button."

{Good job.} Jameson reaches into his vest and touches his watch. {Chase is too sick to go outside.}

"He is," Schneep repeats dully. Then he blinks and is back to normal. "Well we will have to get Marvin for some magic restraints, but we can put him in the operating room for now. And switch out him for the other Chase when it is time."

{That's a great idea.} Jameson nods. {Let's do this now.}

#SITCV inverted #swap into the crystalverse #alt anti #swap magnificent #bro fantastic #inverted au #the scene of alt and anti catching each other up is really nice :')#i love their relationship especially in this story #alt really hated anti at first but now theyre working together!!#oh and get fucked mag but also get fucked jameso gajhbk #both of them suck so much ajghbk

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fratboykate · 1 year

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Because I can't let it go and I'm an east coaster. Enjoy waking up to this:

Kate tries so hard to make sure the kids are not impacted by her and Yelenas argument. She and Yelena are in agreement on that so with the kids, it's business as usual, but kids got these stupid things called brains and feelings so they know their moms are having problems.

Maks, fearing for his family staying together, apologizes for being upset that Yelena missed the play. Yelena can either break or look at Kate like "he forgives me, why can't you" because I genuinely think she's so analytical and book smart, she forgets feelings so she could really go either way on that.

But you just have the kids walking on eggshells around them and Kate hates it but Yelena keeps saying "we need to get over this" which isn't an apology. It's kicking the can down the road. And so they're in therapy one day and Kate just goes OFF about not letting her kids feel abandoned and Yelena should understand why that issue is so important.

I need to go lay down.

You really can't dangle angst in front of me and expect me to resist. Here's 2k words of "moms are fighting" like that other anon said lol.

---

Yelena pokes her head into the dimly lit office where her wife sits, intently pouring over stacks of documents.

"Hey. You coming to bed?" Kate flips a page and scribbles a note on the edge. "You don't have to sleep in the guest room...You should come to bed...I stopped at La Perla on my way home and bought some new things I could show you. You never say no to a private fashion show." Kate thumbs a few pages back and cross-references that data with the one on the current page. Yelena is blatantly getting iced out. The blonde nods and sighs. "Well, at least I know you'll have to talk to me on Friday from four to four fifty."

Yelena references their standing bi-weekly couple's therapy appointment in jest, mostly trying to lighten the air between them. She loathes that Kate can hold a grudge like no one else.

"It's not a joke, dude. None of this has ever been a joke to me." Kate rebuffs her without looking up from the splayed-out folders.

"Are you implying it is to me?"

Yelena steps inside, closes the door behind her, approaches one of the two plush chairs across from Kate’s desk, and unceremoniously plops herself onto it.

"You treat it...us...very aloofly when you feel like it. Like things you can put on a shelf when it's inconvenient to have us around, so, yah. I guess I am."

"You always have the drama dialed up to twelve." Yelena states, her tone lighthearted. She's frankly pushing to minimize this, not maliciously, but because she needs it to go away. Yelena needs them to be okay again. She can only handle them being in a weird place for so long before it starts to drive her slightly mad, and this has already been going on for weeks now. Slowly escalating until it all blew up.

Kate huffs and shakes her head incredulously.

"Maybe people are right. Maybe we do marry versions of our parents because you're exactly like my mom."

W O O F. Kate could've called her wife a slur and it would've stung less than being compared to either of Kate's parents, particularly Eleanor.

"The hell is that supposed to mean?!"

"You're a genius. Figure it out."

"Why are you hellbent on making this worse? He forgave me. Why can't you?"

"Dude..." Kate swallows an aggravated, throaty groan. "Sometimes I can't figure out if you're actually this dumb outside your little lab or if you pretend to be so I let you get away with shit."

"You're angry. I get it. But don't insult me. I draw the line at disrespect. We can talk this through without going low or being childish."

A bitter laugh escapes Kate.

"You seriously have zero self-awareness. It's stunning to watch. You should have one of your coworkers observe you. 'Genius who's a fucking idiot in disguise: a study in how she gets through life.' could win you some awards. That's all you care about anyway."

"Yeah, we're going to do this in therapy because I'm not letting you goad me into saying something I don't mean."

"Whatever."

Yelena stands and attempts to walk away, but Kate's reply forces her right back down.

"Stop acting like a child, Katherine. I have three of those already. Don't need a fourth."

"You remembered you have kids?! AN EARLY CHRISTMAS MIRACLE."

Yelena rises again and manages to walk a few feet this time, but she eventually pivots and stomps back. Kate has successfully managed to push her buttons.

"I told you. I told you so many times that more than one was a bad idea. I'd be stretched thin. It's why my parents only had me. My mom knew this career is complicated. Time-consuming. But unlike you, my dad listened. He got it and they acted accordingly. Responsibly."

Halfway through her diatribe, Kate jumps in and begins talking over her wife.

"I'm sorry I can't be a perfect, obedient lap dog like your dad. I wanted a big family. You always knew that."

"AND YOU KNEW I DIDN'T! You knew it. We talked about it for years. You should've married someone who wanted the same things."

"You should've just said no if you weren't going to be around."

"Do you even remotely comprehend that it’s basically impossible to say 'no' to you?! Remember the cabin? I told you I didn't want kids and you threatened to leave me, Kate. You asked for a divorce, said you were done with me if we didn't."

"Don't rewrite history now. You said you weren't ready yet. YET. Not that you didn't want them at all."

"It was so clear. It was clear what I meant."

"Words have meanings. You can't change them retroactively. That is NOT what you said."

"Maybe not at that moment, but I told you I had doubts before that day. More than once. You heard what you wanted to hear."

"One is a mistake. Four is a pattern."

"You wouldn't stop asking! I wanted to make you happy. That's all I've ever wanted. Obviously Maks...after......Maks was my idea. I know that. I needed it after the...It felt wrong not to try again. And you were so upset. You tried to bury it, but I could see it. I always know. I knew it would make you happy to try again."

"They're not some consolation prize, dude. What is wrong with you?"

"I never said they were. Don't put words in my mouth."

"Can you leave? I have work to do."

"I love them. More than I think I could ever quantify."

"You're doing the bare minimum. Congratulations. Good for you."

"Stop being an asshole. I'm trying to have a conversation."

"I got shit to do."

Yelena doesn't move, mind racing. After a long beat, she speaks anew.

"Maybe it's my pride, maybe it is...but do you have any idea how hard it is to feel so incredibly subpar at the ONE THING you're desperate to be great at? I don't have to try at work. That's innate to me. It's easy. This...all of it...I feel like I'm treading water every day. There's not one day that I've gone to bed feeling I've done a good job with them. I think I can be a good partner, most of the time at least. I feel like I did it for a long time before we had them, so I can confidently say I'm no less than competent on that front, but I've never felt anything except terrible at being a mom. It's an awful thing to come to terms with every single night. I don't think there's been ONE night since Alex was born when I don't beat myself up over everything I did wrong or could've done better that day before I fall asleep. It's suffocating sometimes, Kate. I often feel like the weight of my own disappointment is smothering me. Add yours on top of that and…it’s not easy for me. None of it. You're a better mom than me. Always have been. They love you more too and I get it. I get it. It's understandable. If I were in their shoes, I would too."

"It's not a competition. Never has been."

"Sure. Doesn't mean this come naturally to only one of us and it certainly isn't me. Sometimes it feels like the best thing I can do for all of you is stay out of your way. You seem to do fine without me when I'm not around."

"We've kind of had to learn to lately. You checked out."

"I didn't."

"This is your dissertation all over again."

"If you felt that way, why wouldn't you say something? We promised we would never let it get that bad again. We said we wouldn't."

"I can't spell everything out for you."

"I also can't read your mind."

"Trust me. You don't need mentalist skills to put two and two together. You just don't care enough to pay attention."

"Why do you go out of your way to say things that hurt me when you're angry? You know I care. Of course I care."

"Why do YOU go out of your way to DO things that hurt ME?! ALL.THE.TIME! All the time, dude."

"I don't mean to."

"That would be an excuse for almost anyone else, but you've got a big ass brain, so...try again. Not good enough."

"I don't know how else to apologize for missing the play."

"This is so much bigger than the play! My god, it's impossible to talk to you."

"Try."

"Yelena, I have work. This is the third time I've asked you to leave my office."

"Work is more important than this?"

Kate's eyes shoot up from her computer screen to scowl directly at Yelena.

"Don't play that bullshit with me right now because that would be RICH coming from you."

"I'm only trying to talk."

Kate doesn’t offer an answer and refocuses on her work instead.

Yelena is not deterred. She’s not leaving.

They sit silently. Kate examines papers then types as anger oozes out of each pore. Yelena wordlessly follows her every move with her eyes.

After around a dozen minutes of Kate trying to play it cool while her wife's gaze bores into her, she forcefully shuts her computer and glares at Yelena.

"My entire fucking childhood, I had to watch my parents pick other shit over us. I won't let you do it to them. I know what it did to me, what it did to Deej and I'm breaking that pattern. I also won't force them to watch us do this charade of pretending to be okay for their sake. Either we fix it...YOU fix it...or it's done."

"So what? You want me to quit my job? Become a stay-at-home mom?"

"No. I just need you to get your fucking priorities straight."

"So it's you, or it's done?"

"'Prioritize your family over work' is a pretty fucking basic ask, dude. Don't make me sound irrational because I'm not."

"Why do you always do this? Why do you always throw divorce around so flippantly the moment we have big issues come up?"

Kate stands from her chair.

"If you're not letting me work, I'm going to bed. I'm exhausted."

"If you truly want to break the pattern, then stop running away like your parents did..."

"Yelena." Kate speaks over her wife. Firmly. A blatant warning that she should stop going down that path.

"...They blow relationships up every time things get hard because it's easier to walk away than to work at it."

"Don't bring my parents into this."

"You already compared me to your parents. Twice."

"If you don't want that, quit acting like them. Simple. I'm going to sleep. In the guest room."

"You're the one who always walks away..."

"Yelena, I swear to fucking god...Stop talking."

"...and I'm the one always chasing."

"Must be nice living in an alternate fucking reality. For someone who claims they don't want a divorce, you sure love to do everything in your power to push me to it."

"You know what, Kate? Fine. You want to be away from me this badly? I'll go to a hotel tonight then stay with my parents starting tomorrow. You come find me when you're ready to stop acting like your father and are willing to have a conversation with me like the adults we're supposed to be."

"Do whatever the fuck you want. It's what happens anyway."

"Good."

"GREAT."

Kate storms out of the office, leaving Yelena behind. The blonde exhales explosively and allows her head to sag between her shoulders.

That's not how tonight was supposed to go, but Yelena is too proud to back off from the threat now. She has to call Kate’s bluff at some point, or they will get stuck in this cycle forever. Now might be as good a time as any to see how far her wife is willing to take this.

...Seems like she has to go pack.

#moms are both idiots #theyre both wrong but theyre both also right #will you start discourse over this as usual???#only time will tell #kyfbaup #kyfbau #anonymous #answers

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constantineshots · 9 months

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Hi, wrt your post from the 35th bday issue where John gets called the f slur, could you clarify what you mean by saying "it could be either or"?

Surely he is called the f slur because he is percieved as queer, and that he is percieved that way because he isn't interested in sleeping with the woman.

YEAH, that’s what i mean by that, from the woman’s perspective.

what i intended to mean is more fans use him being called the f slur in that scenario as essentially the big kick-off of his canon bisexuality, when it’s more cemented later on and that’s when it’s more canon by john smith, though i don’t think constantine being perceived as straight was ever intended.

also, the term is a lot more common back then in a linguistics stand point, and people kind of just threw it around when they were offended regardless- like when a few years back ( and technically, still now, i suppose, though it’s not as common ) when guys on games would call people the f slur when they were frustrated with them. or, hell, it’s something i was called ( and various other slurs towards lesbians ) because i didn’t like playing with “girl” toys when i was younger and because my brother didn’t like that i played “boy” games like mortal kombat or found an interest in comic books, but it didn’t necessarily mean i was queer ( though a few years later, i know i am ). it was just something used because i defied from the norm and what was expected of me. so when i saw this and thought back to my own experiences, i thought “well, there’s a chance he’s not being slurred because she thinks he’s genuinely queer, but instead because he did something that wasn’t the norm and that she wouldn’t like.” if this makes any sense.

which is why i also go on to add the “gay earring” part of the post- if she had seen that, which is entirely possible but we don’t know for sure, then it could suggest that he’s being genuinely slurred because of his queer identity. however, he isn’t confirmed bisexual until later on in the series ( exact issue i am not entirely sure, but it’s definitely not this early on ). regardless, i say people can perceive it as either or because of the fact she might not be targeting his queerness and instead just in general being like “fuck this guy”. it’s a sort of giving both sides of the argument, and just how loose the term was at that time period. like people were just using the slur left and right until nowadays, and even now, some people still do. but now especially it’s targeted toward our community.

basically continuity stuff. we don’t know if they included it to hint at john’s bisexuality, or if they just added it because it was something to say at the time. personally, i think it could be the former if i were to take an actual stance on the argument because i don’t think john was ever intended to be a straight guy, but again, it could be perceived as either or. there are plenty of instances of john being targeted by homophobia, though- like in the horrorist.

#asks #john constantine #hellblazer #i hope this makes sense?#like just from remembering the time period #the f-slur was kind of just tossed around #and then adding on my own experiences with the word #he was definitely slurred #but i can’t say for sure if he was slurred because of his queer identity #though i think it may have been that #just because i don’t think john was ever gonna be straight. at all #especially with the gay earring addition #but it wasn’t confirmed at this point and was under a different writer than the person who did confirm johns bisexuality

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findafight · 1 year

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i apologize in advance for the loooooong ask lol (and no pressure about replying if u dont wanna haha) but i saw ur post in the billy hargrove tag and thought it was an interesting character analysis! im a billy fan but im inclined to agree with most of what u said, and i think it's also interesting to compare him and max to zuko and azula. one thing i wanted to comment on tho is when u said "He's also just a racist asshole that has all the means to not be one and doesn't use them or ever feel bad about it."

i just wanted to offer an argument for that point, bc we see that billy's been abused since he was a kid and watched his mom be abused before him, and we also see neil throw slurs at billy, so it's not farfetched to believe his dad spouted racist shit around him too. he also still lives with his dad, and we see in their argument before billy goes to fetch max that billy's safety at home can depend largely on agreeing with and repeating what his dad says.

seeing as how his mom left, how susan doesnt stick up for him (doesnt she even avert her eyes when neil backs him up against his wall?), and how other older women seem to objectify and sexualize him, it also seems like he doesnt have any other adult support in his life--especially not at home where he's supposed to be safe. i would say all of that points to him not having *any* means at all to not be racist, esp considering that his safety might depend on whether or not his dad hears the wrong thing about who he (and max, since his dad seems to put the onus of her actions onto billy's shoulders) might be hanging out with.

he's not in an environment to recognize that racism is bad, and in fact i think it's an environment that teaches him by implicit threat that being racist might actually be something that could help him feel safe, if only bc it means his dad wont have one more thing to come after him about. what means does he have to stop being racist, when he doesnt seem to have external adult support? why would he feel bad about being racist when that mindset might offer him some form of safety? considering all that, i think it's actually surprising he doesnt throw any slurs at lucas (im not applauding this, just observing), esp when put together with how billy himself gets called the f-slur by his father. the importance of words and what you choose to say and what not to say, etc etc.

obviously racism is bad, and im not arguing against his actions *being* racist, i just think that saying he has the means to not be racist isnt entirely accurate. it would be like saying azula has the means to be a good sister but she doesnt use them or ever feel bad about it. that would be an unfair statement when considering how both she and zuko were raised to be pitted against each other, and she had something more to lose by being seen as the more powerful/superior/better sibling by their father. furthermore, the only kind adults in her life have left her with her father for various reasons (her mother & iroh). i dont think she had the means to be a better sister/person, nor would she ever have the need to feel bad about it, because she wasnt raised to look for the means or question why she would want them, if she even knew they existed. the same can be said about billy & his racism. i dont think he could even *start* to have those means, let alone use them, until he starts properly healing in a place he feels safe.

idk, just something to think about i guess. i hope this doesnt come off rude, this is meant as genuine discussion. 😅 people tend to look at billy's scene with lucas, pronounce him racist, and call it a day without considering the context he grew up in, and the fact that racism doesnt come from nowhere--it is always, always something you learn. billy literally says this to max: "i'm older than you, and something you *learn* is that there are a certain type of people in this world that you stay away from." sure he mightve just picked up racism from school or society or something, but with the context of his father at home and how aggressive billy gets with lucas in a similar way to how his dad just got aggressive with him, it makes you wonder how billy might have *really* learned that lesson.

anyways, i dont think he has the means to stop being racist all of a sudden, all by himself, and it seems unfair to blame him (from a narrative standpoint; lucas & his friends, however, have every right to go off lol) for something he cant necessarily choose to improve in his life when he's still living with his bigoted abuser. we dont know if he ever feels bad about it or not--we never see it on-screen but things between him and max certainly change enough for her to try desperately to save him in s3 where she's still (sorta-kinda) dating lucas, so i assume there was some kind of calm-down there, plus billy and max's relationship got to a point where max grieved him *so hard* she got targeted by vecna--but he definitely doesnt really have the means to choose not to be racist. i dont think he thinks he *can* choose this, nevermind discussing whether or not he could and chooses not to.

that being said, i do agree about how he didnt really have a proper redemption arc, or any chance at healing at all. sorry again for the long ask; im sending it cuz im genuinely interested in a good faith discussion. you said you didnt necessarily like billy but found his relationship with max interesting, and you said so on a post about healing & redemption. ive always found that billy's healing & redemption are intrinsically tied to his upbringing and his abuse at home, and i find that his racism is an extension of that in a way people dont acknowledge when making their broader points--instead saying that either the people who sympathize with his home life are excusing the racism, or the people who are naysaying his racism are excusing the abuse. theyre tied together, and i found that most of your post looked at billy fairly except for that one point about his racism being something he can choose--like his racism is something separate from his home life--so i thought id just. give it a genuine go. 😅 anyways, hope ur havin a good day!

Hi! So you've got some good points and in that post I didn't really touch on his racism more than the other things because that would be, to me, one of the things easiest for Billy to begin to rectify. Saying he has all the means wasn't correct though because he doesn't, and unlearning bigotry is not an easy thing, especially without support, but not an impossible thing. People can and do change their perspectives or beliefs even in environments where it is punished.

Reading your thoughts I think you are right in that it likely very much is linked to his abuse, in the way his father treats him and Susan's non-action. Him telling max that "you learn" s also interesting and I think does show that Neil encouraged racism and bigotry in general. The only positive interactions with older women he has is grown women sexualizing him, which is unfortunately never examined further in the show, and the only man we only see him interact with is Neil. So. He obviously doesn't have adult support in his life, we don't see him with any teachers but there's only so much they can do too.

However having adult support isn't fully necessary for him to realize his actions were wrong. I think I was sort of looking at how Max has also been in that house with Neil and Billy, and that Billy often does, like you said, emulate Neil or act as an extension of him possibly for his own safety, leading to his abuse of Max and his seeking of power and control in other areas while max pushes against that.

From the flashbacks in S3 showing Billy and max meeting, they look significantly younger, I'd say max was likely eight or so? And Billy about twelve. So Max has been in this situation for possibly about four to six years (considering she consistently calls him her brother, implying she is used to him as her brother not her mom's BF's son), and while we don't know how her mother treated her or allowed her to be treated, it would not be far to say that Max could have also acted and believed the same things as Billy as a form of self preservation like him. But she doesn't? And it could be that her bio dad still influenced her when they were in California, or that Susan did put more effort into protecting Max, or Max's own experiences at school enforcing that Neil was wrong. Idk.

For me, Max threatening Billy into not coming near her friends again could have been a point where he took a long hard look at himself and reevaluated what he was doing. Even without support he could go through that realization, and attempt to be better. He could have realized that max was not his enemy but in fact another frightened and abused kid. That could have been his gateway into breaking the cycle of abuse with max, and we don't see that. Very unfortunate.

And you're right! We don't know what happened between them during the interim of S2/3. For the most part, and I haven't rewatched billy s3 scenes in a while, he seems relatively the same as the start of s2 though. I don't think we ever see them interact until the sauna test and by then Billy is flayed and out of control. So we do not see if any repairs to their relationship were made, or if billy did work to change. I think if he did, the show would have tried to show us that his and Max's relationship was better, even if it was still rocky and that Billy clearly still had some issues(like those with older women). But it did not, and so we are left to assume he didn't change all that much between seasons.

Max has a lot of conflicting feelings for Billy, because she is scared of him but also sees him as her brother. She wants to have a brother she can rely on but doesn't. I don't think her desperately not wanting Billy to be a mind flayer puppet indicates their relationship was better, but that Max does care for him either way. He's her brother, whether or not they get along, and she does not want him to be involved or being manipulated.

When he dies, and max feels guilt for it, I sort of have the opposite interpretation as you. I see her immense guilt and grief from it stemming from the fact that Billy had abused Max, and at some point she likely wished he was gone, out of her life, possibly dead. Because she was a scared abused child. And when he died trying to save her all those feelings of guilt for wishing she never had to see him again compounded with a possible sense of relief that she wouldn't, because now he was gone.

I also think she wanted a positive relationship with him. She wanted to have a brother she could trust, who she didn't want to wish away. So her confusion and relief and guilt for his death are what leave her vulnerable to vecna.

To just touch on billy not saying a slur to Lucas, I am pretty sure it was in the script at some point before being pulled. Possibly because Caleb was young and I thiiiiink it was during the scene he shoves Lucas into the wall, so someone realized doing that combined with calling him a racial slur maybe traumatic especially for a child actor and they cut it.

#stranger things #billy Hargrove #abuse #racism #stranger things meta #findaanswers #finda's rambles #reineyday

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