#it's not perfect but its gotta get out there at some point eh? write and don't look back too hard
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Total $hit$how: Good Cop
in which Jericho cracks a wall
cw: aftermath of violence, adult language
previous // masterlist //
×~×~×
When Harbor's hour was almost up, Jericho made his way back to the briefing room, a hopeful plan at the ready and a nervous feeling in his gut, every step closer to the door jiggling at his nerves like jello.
The word interrogation didn't exactly fill his head with pleasant images. In movies, it was usually portrayed as torture, ineffective on the protagonist but shockingly useful against any minions the heroes snatched for intel. In real life, he'd experienced something like it once or twice. Corporate cronies trying to grill a confession out of him; entrapping questions intended to get him to admit to anything they could twist into something worthy of an arrest. Those were some of the scariest moments of his life, and even though he'd insisted on his own ignorance, in the end he was only saved by a lack of evidence of his hacking activities (hacktivities?).
Jericho's own encounters had been pretty mild, but he still wasn't eager to put anyone else through it.
Then again, this was just a challenge, wasn't it? Succeeding didn't mean they'd suddenly be required to hurt Finley, it only meant Sahota wouldn't kill her. If they managed to win, maybe they could pursue Joy's original idea and just talk to the woman. Whether she was a hardened criminal or not, surely she'd be willing to help if she knew the safety of the city was on the line.
…But that was all a big if. Unless Harbor had managed to pull a trick out of his hat, no one had been successful so far, which left Jericho. Jericho going toe-to-toe against Sahota's boundless willpower. No big deal, just a stranger's life hanging in the balance.
If he failed, could they still back out?
There were other avenues. Both Sahota and Vic had been clear on that, but the group's own insistence had gotten them to this point. If they completely gave up on Finley as a lead now, they'd have just wasted a day, and he doubted Vic would be very happy about that, but between wasting a day and throwing away an entire person, Jericho knew what he'd choose.
From the moment the challenge was announced, he knew what method he'd be using. Bad-cop good-cop, sans the bad-cop. In his experience, difficult people could be swayed to a cause if the reason behind it was just explained, if he pled to their humanity and compassion. And sure, some people were so far up their own bias that they'd refuse to listen, but it was worth a try.
Hell, it was how he got Ari to take a chance on asparagus.
He was prepared to act on the same technique he'd use if they actually won, if they got a chance with Finley: Just talk. A conversation might be all they needed. The Reality Cage was potentially destructive. If Finley knew that, knew what was at stake, wouldn't she help them? It wasn't even as if she'd be responsible for destroying it. She'd just have to tell them how. Some part of her had to exist that would want them to succeed, to save people.
Jericho was inclined to believe that the same could be said about Sahota. He'd given them this chance in the first place, hadn't he? Why let them try at all, unless he wasn't too keen on killing Finley either? If that was true, if this was more than just a lesson in their own inadequacy, Jericho had hope that this whole mission wouldn't wind up as violent as he feared.
Footsteps drew his attention back to the corridor ahead, and he looked up to see Harbor, head drooping, wild multicolored hair obscuring his face. His walk was usually something between a sway and a stumble, but it looked more erratic now, with him nearly bumping into the walls as he went.
“Hey,” Jericho started, but his voice caught when his gaze landed on Harbor's hands. His knuckles were red, skin splitting in some places, blood drying in the lines of his fingers. Totally cut up, and not from the morning’s sparring matches, so that meant… Jericho’s stomach twisted.
Sahota.
Harbor didn't look up, passing right by him as if he wasn't even aware he was there.
“Harbor—”
“Fuck off,” he said in a voice that sounded bitten off, and disappeared around the corner. Jericho had to stop himself from chasing after the other man, from asking what happened.
It was pretty clear what had happened, but why? Harbor was rough around the edges, but he didn't seem like the kind of person who enjoyed hurting someone else, especially not a someone else who was already injured. A part of him hoped that he was jumping to conclusions, that Harbor had just… punched the wall or something to try and intimidate their trainer. But before he made it to the end of the hall, before he could even open the door, he knew what he would see.
An anxious sort of nausea built in Jericho’s stomach as he took in the scene, deliberately avoiding the focus of it as long as he could. The briefing room had been cleared, the big table pushed to one side to make space for the day's challenge.
In the center, tied to a chair, sat Sahota. Blood and spit hung from his face in sticky strands, and his head sat heavy atop his shoulders, like he was struggling to keep it up. His cheek was split, the cut on his lip reopened and dribbling blood, and the eye that had been bruised was now nearly swollen shut.
Jericho’s heart beat faster.
“Is your plan just to stand there?” Sahota mumbled. “Or do you have a better idea?”
And he was just acting like it hadn’t happened. Jericho had already gathered that Sahota didn't like to show any weakness, but this was bigger than pride. Their trainer had been hurt, while he was tied down, by someone who was supposed to be on their team.
“Are you okay?” He clearly wasn't.
“Fine.”
“Did Harbor do this?” Why was he asking such stupid, obvious questions? Why couldn't he make himself step forward to untie the other man? Because of how little he wanted to believe it was true? Because of how surreal it was?
“I… I told him to,” Sahota replied.
What? Hadn’t he warned them all not to do anything he couldn’t sleep off? No matter how tough Sahota was, this didn’t look like it fell into that category.
“Let me cut you loose,” Jericho said, finally breaking a leg free of the uncertainty that held it captive, taking a step closer.
“No,” Sahota said, and he froze in his tracks. “Do what you came to do or get out. I don’t need your help.”
Jericho grimaced. “Should we really continue? You should get cleaned up, maybe—”
“I said I'm fine.”
Same song, different verse. He'd said he was fine yesterday, even after they'd all seen the video that so clearly told them he wasn't.
“Sahota…”
“Davis,” he answered in a clipped tone. “If you can't ignore the blood, leave.” He took a shaky breath, coughed, sent little flecks of red flying. “Tell me what information you're after and pursue it, or get out.”
Jericho exhaled through clenched teeth. It was pretty clear that no matter what he said, their trainer was determined to suffer through this. Was there any point in continuing? He could just leave. Walk away, abandon Sahota to his own wounds and pride, but it didn't feel right. What would happen? How long would it take Sahota to get free on his own? Better to finish the exercise and hope his trainer allowed help after it was completed.
“Okay,” he said, letting out a resigned sigh. “I want to know your first name. That’s what I’m after.”
“Then get on with it.”
Jericho took a deep breath. Ignore the blood. How was he supposed to do that?
“Hey,” he began, forcing a smile. “My… uh, my name's Jericho. I have a few questions for you, and…” he couldn't stay on track with this. He couldn't just pretend Sahota wasn't actively in pain in front of him.
“And I'd like to apologize for any rough treatment you received before I got here. It… that wasn't my intention,” he said. “I didn't want to hurt you.”
Sahota scoffed. It sounded closer to a wheeze. “Do you think Finley will buy that?”
“I don't… Maybe.” Jericho sighed. “Let me start again. Hey,” he said. “You… uh, you have some information that I need. Pretty badly." Everything he said just sounded dumb. "I want to know your name. Sounds weird, I know, but this… you could help me stop a lot of people from getting hurt.”
“What if she doesn't care?” Sahota said.
“There's hundreds of thousands of people in this city,” Jericho continued, trying not to let the other man's words deter him. “Right now, all of them are at risk. If you’ll just work with me here, we can keep them safe.”
Sahota didn't answer. And really, he had a point. Even if Finley did care about the well-being of the city, she’d have no reason to believe anything they said. How could they convince her?
“My family doesn't live here,” Jericho tried. He was truly thankful that they didn't. Having to worry about their safety, their potential destruction at the hands of an uncaring company would be terrible.
“My mom, daughter, aunts, uncles, cousins… they're not the ones in danger," he continued. "But people like them are. I’d never be able to sleep again if something just… destroyed people's lives. Something I could've prevented.” He clasped his hands together, hoped the motion looked sincere. “That's why I'm here. I don't want to hurt you. I don't want to be your enemy. I just want to help people.”
Jericho sighed when that didn't get a response. He shouldn't be too disheartened. Sahota probably just didn't have much energy for conversation. Not after Harbor… did that. He glanced down at his own knuckles, still sore from fighting the taserbots just a few days ago. He'd saved Harbor. He’d thought they were finally starting to meld together and work as a team, but teammates didn't do this to each other. Even if Sahota had ordered it, why would he take it that far?
“I'm sorry about what happened,” he said. “I know someone on my team hurt you.” He swallowed. “Whoever… whoever touched you was in the wrong. You didn't deserve to be hurt like that, and… I'm sorry.” He was. He really was. He'd need to find Harbor after this. They could talk it out.
“I won't let it happen again,” Jericho said. “If someone tries to touch you, just let me know, okay? I'll stop them. I know I'm basically a stranger, but I promise I want to help you. I promise you're not alone. I—”
He stopped at an odd noise. A catch in Sahota's breath, a sound that was oddly familiar but out of place. It took a second for Jericho to realize that Ari made a sound just like it sometimes. When she was trying not to cry.
“Sahota?”
No answer, just another shaky inhale. Shoot, he knew he shouldn't have proceeded, not when he was all beat up like this. Even with Finley on the line… Vic be damned, he'd fight for it to be nothing more than a wasted day. He was fine abandoning the lead, he was fine admitting defeat here.
He wasn't fine leaving Sahota like this.
Jericho exhaled sharply through his nose, crossing the room in two strides to reach the chair their trainer was strapped to and setting to work on the knots. Surprisingly, Sahota didn't tell him off this time, just sat with his head bent and his shoulders shaking.
Why was he crying? Of course, Jericho couldn't blame him. He was probably overwhelmed with everything that was going on, and this was just the straw that had broken the camel's back. But what was ‘this’? What had been his breaking point? Had something he said triggered it?
He fumbled with the ropes, eventually managing to find a weak point in each knot and pull them loose, letting the bindings coil to the floor.
Now with his arms free, Sahota buried his face in his hands.
“Fuck,” he whispered in a thick voice. “I… I don't know what came over me. I'm sorry.”
“Sorry for what?” Jericho said, taking a step back. The other man refused to look up. He could understand if he was embarrassed. Holding up an emotionless, unshakable facade all the time must be exhausting, but it would also be jarring to ever let it drop. He got it.
“The exercise is over,” Sahota said, still not raising his head.
“Alright.” Jericho couldn't let himself be mad about it. He'd given it a try, but if their trainer was just too overwhelmed right now, and no way was Jericho going to push him further. They could worry about Finley later. “Seriously though, are you okay?” he said. “There's no shame in not being fine. I know you're under a lot of stress.”
It took a moment for the other man to respond. “Go wait by the mats. I need to reset this room.”
I need some time alone.
“Okay,” Jericho said softly, backing towards the door. “Do you… want a hand getting patched up?”
“I'll handle it.”
Alright. He wouldn't push him. “Okay,” he said again. “I… guess I'll give you some space.”
It felt like it was all for nothing. Their idea for a peaceful approach had already resulted in violence, and for what? They’d all failed. They were no closer to their goal than they'd been yesterday.
He had one foot out the door when Sahota called after him.
“Davis.” It wasn't loud. It sounded uncertain, like he might ‘nevermind’ him and send him on his way. Jericho turned around, determined to be patient, to show he was at least willing to listen, even if their trainer said nothing else. But instead of sitting silent, instead of ordering him off, Sahota spoke. His head stayed bowed, hands tangled tightly around each other, eyes on the floor.
“It's Ander,” he said. “My name is Ander.”
×~×~×
tag list:
@theonewithallthefixations , @violets-whumperflies , @whump-me , @pirefyrelight , @soheavyaburden , @snakebites-and-ink , @whumpsday , @kixngiggles , @echo-goes-aaa , @whumpcateyes , @clickerflight
#ive been sitting on this for too long#it's not perfect but its gotta get out there at some point eh? write and don't look back too hard#total$hit$how#aftermath of whump#blood#beaten#angst#whump writing
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@slightlyunderokayartist i made another post so I didn't hijack the other one. Because I basically paraphrased an entire novel.
I am going to make you appreciate Pride and Prejudice. It may at some point involve a PowerPoint full of comic sans and memes but I'm on my phone right now, so bear with me. Don't worry, I will remain nice about it.
The thing about Austen, is that she was one of the earliest means based feminists. (Yes, shes writing about landed gentry, but this is 180fuck and feminism is baby steps) Basically the thrust of alot of her work is that violence against women isn't always physical or even particularly violent. A lot of her contemporaries had stories about kidnapping and coercion and perfect pure heroines. In contrast Austen writes a character who is kinda a bitch and the primary antagonist is the fact that her life is entirely beholden to the decisions of the men around her.
So the book opens and you have lizzy. A bitch(affectionate). Shes got four sisters, no brothers and parents wealthy enough to own a country estate but not a London town house. So they're well-off but not fancy.
Lizzy is the second daughter and her dads favorite, because she's clever and cynical like he is. Her older sister is beautiful and sweet and shy and if Austen were anyone else she would be the main character. But Austen said 'nah, I wanna write about the messy one'. There are also 3 younger sisters who are various mixtures of spoiled bratty immature wild child girls.
If you can't tell, Mom and Dad have not been doing a ton of parenting. Specifically Dad, has not bothered to hire a tutor or send them to school so none of them has any marketable skills beyond being a socialite. And they're not even particularly good at it. Dad is less than motivated to take them anywhere they make connections and the entire family is pretty yikes as a result of his decisions. People see Jane (older sister) and go 'oh shes pretty and pleasant and her sister (lizzy) is fun to chat with, but yikes'
The issue is, there's no dowery for any of these girls. A dowery, if you don't already know is money set aside for a woman's married life that transfers to control of her husband when she leaves her family or if she doesn't marry, goes in a trust so she'll be supported when she doesn't have family to take her in. Its basically an insurance policy so she won't starve to death on the street because women can't legally own anything. Also it's a lot of money, that then goes to the new husband, so it makes woman in question more desirable. These girls don't have that, because dad never got around to it. Other issue, when dad dies all his stuff, including the house, goes to some cousin because women can't hold property. Cousin has never met this family and could decide to kick them all out when he owns the house.
Mom, looks at her daughters and goes, 'holy tits, you have got to get married. Preferably to someone rich enough to take care of his in-laws, but married, now.' So she's trying to marry her daughters off for money and different adaptions handle this differently but the original work is pretty forgiving because the other option is pretty grim.
In comes Mr Darcy and his buddy Mr Bingley. Bingley is very wealthy and has the personality of a golden retriever. Darcy is extremely wealthy and doesn't want to be there but his extrovert bestie is dragging him to parties because its good for him.
Mom goes 🤑🤑🤑 and shoves her daughters over there. Bingley and Jane are getting along immediately and Darcy is looking at Mom and going "uh dude..."
There is an overheard conversation that consists mostly of "eh, Jane seems nice but uh everything else? Yikes.😬 " to which Lizzy has the opinion of "what a dick, whatever, not like i ever have to see him again"
Except Mom sees JanexBingley happening and she's gotta lock that shit down. So she insists jane ride on over to his place for a visit tomorrow. In the rain.
"But momma we are fragile English gentry we can't get rained on, I will surely fall ill and die" says jane.
"Yeah, no shit, that's the point. Now go live your favorite hurt/comfort sick!fic and snag a husband"
Jane gets rained on, Jane gets sick. Lizzy says absolutely not and walks over to Bingley's house in the mud and busts down the door to get to Jane. (Lizzy has Plot Armour and/or a functional circulatory system)
Darcy, who's chilling at his bros house, looks at Lizzy and goes "oh, wow" Lizzy goes "you're a dick i don't care about your opinions"
Inside of Darcy head: ooooooh😳😳😳 pretty lady being mean to me? Flirting? 💘Maybe?🥰 oh no shes meeting all my standards
What actually comes out of his mouth: I'm not impressed
Lizzy: I don't feel bad about hating you, because as usual, I'm right
Then Mom shows up, because it can always be worse. Jane is in fact living and enjoying her hurt/comfort sick!fic and Lizzy is about to invent noise canceling headphones a couple centuries early so she doesn't have to make any more small talk. Mom wants to make sure that Jane is being slutty enough. The bratty little sisters are there. Bingley is shopping for rings. Darcy the hypocrite thinks maybe he should chill a little because the prospective inlaws are yikes.
A note: having unhinged in-laws was a big no-no that reflected badly on you as a person, un like today when its just assumed that everyone has a nightmare somewhere on the other side of the family. Like the toilet shotgun. We don't talk about the toilet shotgun.
Carrying on
We meet a dude. His name is Wickham. Hes a bad dude but we don't know that yet. He is of the opinion that Darcy is a huge cunt and Lizzy decides this man has good opinions. There's drama, Darcy screwed me over, blah blah, he sucks and I'm broke but handsome and charming.
We also meet the cousin. Imagine the most obnoxious person you know with a connection to some random famous wealthy person and make sure they bring it up every chance they get. He's also aware he inherits the house.
Marrying your cousin was a thing back then, so he looks at the available choices and picks the pretty one. Jane is spoken for, says Mom but Lizzy is very lovely, I'm sure she would love to be not homeless. Cousin goes yea sure, acceptable. Hey Liza, sorry, Lizzy, I love you v. much, plz marry.
Lizzy, understandably, does not want. Says no. Will not marry into a miserable loveless marriage for comfort. Dad gets the final say, says yeah thats reasonable, favorite daughter gets what she wants. Mom goes "hey your options are miserable and married or miserable and homeless. And your entire family comes with you on the second one. Are you sure thats your final answer?"
Theres some plot, there's a party. Bingley cuts it off with Jane and she sad. Lizzy is pretty sure it's Darcy's fault.
The man himself shows up and asks her to marry him. It goes... poorly.
There is an adaption where she starts swinging a fire poker at him while spouting lines of dialog lifted straight from the book and its not out of place. She reads this man for filth, bringing up Wickham and how he's responsible for breaking her sisters heart and also in general a huge dick that she would not marry if he was the last man on earth. It does not help that he's not only admitting to the things she's accusing him of but defending it with stuff like "i didnt want my buddy marrying into your nightmare family" and "Wickham is an asshole who deserved it"
She knows shes fucked if she doesn't mary rich but she bitches this man out so hard he leaves town and goes back home to learn to be nicer.
A bit later she gets a long ass letter explaining how Darcy thought that Jane was getting shoved into marriage by their mother and didn't want her and Bingley to end up unhappy. And also how Wickham got a fuckload of money from Darcy's dead father and squandered it all because he's an asshole. The asshole also tried to marry his baby sister to weasel into the family fortune so they're not talking and there's the 1800s version of a restraining order out there. Ends with something like "I respect you and am a little scared of you which is why I wanted to marry you and if you never want to speak to me again thats fine"
Lizzy should really be allowed to say fuck here but she doesn't. She decides to get out of town herself and goes to chill with her aunt and uncle. They're touring the countryside and Darcy has a house big enough for tours so they end up touring the house. (Ugh, rich people)
The household staff who work for this guy are all of high opinions. The cleaning lady knows your shit. She knows. And they all like the guy.
Lizzy does not say fuck.
Darcy is not supposed to be there in his own house but he shows up in his own house and sees the love of his life with whom he monumentally blew it. In his own house.
Darcy doesn't get to say fuck either.
Lizzy gets a letter and she really really should be allowed to say fuck because Wickham has run off with her baby sister.
Not married. Run off. Sister has had no supervision or parenting and just knows she needs to get a man so she did. Kinda. And tanked her whole family's reputation in doing so. No no one will marry any of the sisters and they're all fucked.
Darcy realizes this is partly his fault and hes also the only one who can really fix it. So he, without telling anyone, runs down Wickham and threatens/blackmails/bribes him into marrying baby sister and saving everyone's reputation. He makes sure little sister and Wickham have enough money to live comfortably regardless of how shit that relationship turns out to be.
Then he goes over to his sad golden retriever friend who has been moping about the pretty lady who didn't love him and point out that now he has spent all that money and effort rehabilitating the Bennet reputation Bingley might as well marry Jane. So Bingley prances off to go propose to Jane and Mom realizes her family is secure and quits double fisting ye old anxiety meds.
He doesn't tell anyone this. Lizzys family still thinks she hates him. He shows up and goes "hey hope you're happy and okay with this, my feelings haven't changed since last time I asked, I'm hoping yours have."
Lizzy would love to marry this guy because he was never really an asshole from the start and her family is indeed kinda a mess.
Her dad reassures her she doesn't have to marry the rich dude she hates for his money, Jane already did that. Lizzy explains that no actually she loves him and also he saved their ass with respect to the Wickham debacle. Dad decides that Darcy must be a good dude if thats the case and says yep go get married.
Blah blah blah happily ever after.
Lizzy overcomes her prejudices against Darcy and unbends her pride enough to admit she was wrong.
#pride and prejudice#i did not intend to summarize the whole thing im sorry#its good#Elizabeth Bennet is a bitch (affectionate)#sitting over here with my dunce cap that barely fits over my enormous brain
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Chapter 2 act 4: all's fair
Since the newest revelation of Terry’s past had come to light, GG was thinking constantly, how exactly would he go about figuring out the truth behind Terry’s framing and clear his name to his old crew? The cowboy himself had only so much information on the subject and it wasn’t like he could just ask the blood-thirsty, money-hungry bounty hunters himself… or could he?
And it was this thought process that led him to decide the latest destination for the duo’s travels
“A theme park?” Terry asked
“It makes perfect sense!” GG snapped back “if we wanna find a bounty hunter, we gotta think like one and if one’s looking for me they’d have to think like me, where would someone like me wanna go?”
Terry just stared, confused
“Exactly!”
“GG, if you wanted to go to a theme park, you could have just said so”
“Did you not hear that very straightforward thought process of mine?!”
“Look, I know the rogues and I’m pretty sure they’re smart enough not to actively pursue a bounty in a largely populated place like this!”
“Oh…” GG said as his head began drooping down to the ground
Feeling bad for the boy, Terry then said, “Then again, can never be too sure and we did come all this way”
Immediately, GG picked himself back up, “Great!” he yelped, “Now, look alive, we got pages to fill!”
“Pages?”
“I’m thinking of writing a journal or maybe a blog…”
As the Delinquent duo walked off they remained oblivious to the discreet, camouflage-clad seeker, watching, strategizing their downfall…. From the trash can
“Hmmm… The Toppat boy is onto me! Smarter than I thought it seems… but being a step ahead won’t mean much as he steps on a landmine!” Wally Warlock announced as he flipped through his spellbook and with a wave of his hand, a peculiar creature with a mushroom on its head resembling a soldier’s helmet appeared on the ground beside him
“Glug…” the creature groaned
“Hey, over here!” Wally commanded, prompting the creature to turn around, “You see those two?” he continued, pointing at the delinquent duo, “keep an eye on them but stay out of their sights, and when the time is right…” Wally once more waved his hand, making a gun locked and loaded with sleeping powder appear in the creature’s hands
“Glug!” the creature responded affirmatively, as it began to waddle off, dragging the gun behind
For about 20 seconds before it walked into a no entry zone of the park and was launched into the sky by an oncoming coaster
Wally, facepalmed as he saw this, “I spent the last of my cash on this third rate spellbook?! Urghh, well if these things are lacking in quality, they’ll have to make up for it in quantity…”
Meanwhile, the Delinquent duo were simply meandering about the park, with GG practically rotating with each step, “the hell are you doing?” asked Terry
“Well, those hunters could be anywhere, right?”
“Well I don’t think they’re gonna strike if they can tell your ready”
“Ah, you’re right, gotta act natural, hmmm…”
At that moment, a Bottle toss stand crossed his sights and immediately he dashed towards it, dragging Terry in tow
“Ah, nothing like some nice rigged carnival games to relax while we’re most certainly NOT on the lookout for bounty hunters, eh, Terry?!” GG loudly announced, much to Terry’s un-amusement
“2 games please” GG said as he plopped 2 bucks on the booths counter and the operator handed the duo 3 balls each
“You first, Terry” GG said “I’ll be on look-out” he then whispered as he stood and tried to maintain subtlety
As this was happening, two of Wally’s shroom-soldiers as one of them walked about a corner, Spotting GG and Terry, immediately the other dragged them back as to remain out of their field of vision, Back in the trash can, Wally was using a communication spell to keep tabs on his fungal forces, when he got a signal from the duo, “You’ve got them in your sights? Perfect! Just get a clear shot and bring those maggots to me!”
“Glug!” the two responded affirmatively
On of them then proceeded to rather clumsily get a grip on their gun
As the creatures began to take aim, Terry ran out of balls and switched positions with GG, “All yours” he said as GG stepped up to the plate
“Alrighty, just gonna wind this one up…” GG said as he reeled his arm back in a circular motion that grew faster and faster, Flames began to fester on the ball and he eventually chucked it with all that built up force!
Completely missing the bottles as the ball tore through the back of the booth, ricocheting off a hard concrete wall, tearing another hole, whizzing past GG, Terry and the booth operator before Smacking right in the Shroom soldier’s face, right as it was about to shoot! Causing the other to promptly flee the scene
“Huh” GG said, “Might’ve packed a bit too much into that one, oh well, I still got two more-”
The operator didn’t hesitate for a second as they smacked the bottles off the table themselves “Look at that, a winner!” they said frantically as they shoved the largest plush amongst the booth’s prizes in the boy’s hands
“Soldiers, what’s your read?” Wally asked, trying to reach the duo’s signal, the survivor grumbled its response, “A fireball? Of course you realize, Toppat, this means war!” He then proceeded to signal all of his troops, “all units, I’m being told our foe is wielding some sort of fire magic, but this means nothing, we’ll just have to fight fire… with ice!” Wally announced as he looked through his spells and clapped his hands, suddenly the hues of the shrooms shifted from sickly greens to lighter blues as they were all given ice magic
Meanwhile, the Delinquent duo were wandering around when abruptly, GG came to a stop, turning around with wide, awe-struck eyes, “What is it?” Terry asked, confused until the boy pointed up at the attraction that caught his eyes
“bumper cars!” GG cried out with glee! Reminiscing of the few, yet very fond memories he had attached to the attraction
“Getting distracted, are you?” Terry teased
“Wha- how DARE you accuse me?!” GG yelled, taking the joke rather personally, “I said I’d find one of your old friends here and I meant it! And I can do it while taking in all the frantic swerving, the tires squealing, the…” he was in a trance before quickly snapping out of it “agh, let’s just get in line!” the duo proceeded to the attraction as GG resumed his observation
Despite GG’s vigilant lookout, a horde of Wally’s shrooms remained undetected as they peered from the corner of a stand, they needed to get close, but how?
At that moment, one of them grabbed an unattended box of the Park’s novelty hats, they donned the disguises, hiding their grotesque spore-ridden mugs with more cartoonish, foam fungi as they proceeded to get into line with the delinquent duo, the line moved and the horde along with the delinquents got into their cars as the ride’s operator came on the speaker to rather unenthusiastically announce “ready, set… go!” as he activated the ride’s music and the car’s ignitions
Now, while GG had ultimately arranged this day-trip in order to lure any of Terry’s old friends and help clear his name, that didn’t change the fact that he was sitting in one of his all time favorite attractions to any theme park, the adrenaline had begun to kick in as the music blared in ears his eyes widened along with a worryingly big smile, he slammed his foot to the gas and he was off! Rushing to the horde and slamming them at full force like a bunch-a bowling pins! He swerved and turned as the horde tried to retaliate, rubber squealed, dust flew, it was utter madness!
“Well that’s… worrying,” Terry muttered to himself as he watched this unfold, until GG’s car inevitably turned his direction, before promptly giving him the same treatment as everyone else in that arena, Terry of course, wouldn’t take this lying down, following the crash, he adjusted his hat and put the pedal to the metal, as the duo chased each other about the area, with GG’s intense, almost maniacal enthusiasm and Terry’s focus and vehicular prowess (jetpack, bumper car, potato, po-tah-to) it was truly an heart- pounding spectacle as they bumped one another to and fro!
Meanwhile, as the horde were recovering from their crashes and attempting to take advantage of their distraction, one of them attempted to fire shots of frost at them, but given the speed of their chase and that they weren’t exactly stellar aimers to begin with, they missed every one, until they got a call from Wally
“What are you doing?! I can see them in your sights, so listen up!” he commanded the soldier as he relayed his strategy, they gave an affirmative “glug!” before shouting at their comrades, waking them up as they all collectively set their arms to drag behind as they all charged forward, creating a layer of ice on the arena, catching the duo off guard as their carts were sent sliding across the stage like billiard balls, they could barely control their cars, just as planned
Trying to capitalize on this disorientation the horde once more tried to subdue the duo with their guns, of course, they only now realized that their ice only made their targets even more erratic than before, but they were in too deep and decided to press onwards to get a closer shot, before getting caught in the storm themselves
At this time GG would try to take back control, he grabbed on to the steering wheel as hard as he could, jolting it left, right, up and down and all around, desperately trying to get any input through as he continually spun out of control, soon enough, he began eliciting his electricity, giving extra power for both himself and the car, finally getting him to veer off, though still at the mercy of the icy terrain
Eventually, the momentum carried him to the edge of the area, where he’d orbit about in spiraling vortex, catching the horde in his grasp
At this moment, the ride’s operator finally woke from their nap, seeing this scene, immediately they pulled the override, causing every car to abruptly stop
Since GG and Terry were the only who bothered to put their seatbelts, the horde ended up being sent flying far off, “they’ll be fine” GG remarked as he grabbed his plush and the duo walked off
After the horde landed, Wally buzzed in “You… lost them again, didn’t you?”
“Glug…”
“Of all the…”
“Glug”
“You what?”
“Glug!”
“Oh-ho, I underestimated you soldier!” Wally hollered as he checked his tracking spell, lo and behold, true to the shrooms word a single spore had been planted on GG’s plushie, now with a direct location wally radioed in every last soldier to tell the good news
After everything, the duo had decided to take a break and eat some snacks, all the while GG lamented the lack of success he was having
“Ugh, what am I doing wrong?” He asked sadly
“Hey, don’t beat yourself up so much, look at the bigger picture, they're bound to show up soon enough”
“Bigger picture…” At that moment, GG noticed the Massive ferris wheel that stood in the center of the park “Jackpot!” he said, as he headed for it, with Terry reluctantly following
Just as the duo hopped on one of the wheel’s carts, just as the shrooms had begun to pursue, catching rides in the carts behind, soon enough, they were all sitting at the highest point of the wheel’s rotation as it came to a stop
“Alrighty, hand me the binoculars” GG said, holding his hand out
“What? I don’t have any”
“WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU DON’T HAVE ANY?!”
“Do you just expect me to have a solution to all your problems in my jetpack?”
“Eugh, alright, it’s fine, maybe if I just look a little closer…”
As GG tried to stick his head out for a better view of the park’s patrons far below, just then Terry noticed someone aiming a gun at the boy
“Get down!” he yelled as it attempted to shoot
“Haha! So someone is here! You know that mushroom-head?” GG exclaimed
“No,but I recognize that kinda magical weaponry anywhere” Terry began to rev his jetpack “fun day, but we’re outta here”
“What? But this is our chance! If their weapons are there, the guy is probably close by”
“You don’t know what you’re dealing with!”
“Which is why I’ve gotta learn somehow!”
“This isn’t your problem to face!”
“It’s ours, we’re a team, remember?!”
“It’s too risky!” Terry grabbed GG’s arms and attempted to fly and flee the scene
GG meanwhile, wasn’t having it, as he broke out of the cowboy’s grasp with a rocket boost and latched himself onto the ferris wheel, he swung and climbed to and fro as the shrooms tried to shoot at him
“What are you doing!?” Terry screamed as he flew back for him
Soon enough the ferris wheel had begun moving as GG reached the top, prompting him to start running to avoid falling
“The things I do for this guy…” he muttered as he felt the wheel gaining speed from his electric steps, eventually getting to the point he could only hold on for dear life as it spun out of control, shrooms flew until the wheel finally came to a steady stop, luckily as GG was a safe distance from the ground, he released his grip as Terry flew down for him
“Jeez! Can you get any more reckless!?”
Watching closely by the scene, Wally was delighted, “it’s all coming together! Now hold still…” he remarked as he began to slowly aim his own gun”
“Urgh… I don’t feel so good…” GG got up, disoriented before he ran off, holding his hand to his mouth
“What’s he doing?” Wally wondered, before noticing the boy fast approaching “Shit! Where’s the teleportation spell?!” he frantically flipped through as GG came closer and closer before he reached wally’s trash can…
Running right past it and vomiting in a nearby porta-potty, walking out, still dizzy
“Ugh, what were you thinking?”
“I was thinking of making good on my promise”
“By throwing yourself head-long into danger!?”
“Huh, when you say it like that…”
Terry sighed, “Look, this isn’t something to take lightly, and I’ll admit I haven't exactly been handling this as well as I should, I’ll give more information on the rogues, but could you not do something like that again?”
Meanwhile, Wally eavesdropped right under the duo’s noses, gasping at what he was hearing “He’s plotting to take us out!” Wally didn’t hesitate to jump out his hiding place with his gun pointed right at Terry, “Not today, weed!”
Just before he could shoot, GG tackled Terry outta the way, Wally proceeded to raise another horde of shroom soldiers
GG proceeded to grab his plush by the leg, before setting it aflame and charging his horde, swatting at the horde like he was in a third-degree burning pillow fight! Rushing straight for Wally himself
Realizing this, Wally quickly used a wind spell to propel himself away and summoned even more shrooms to slow the duo down, even still GG chased him down with Terry close behind, mowing down the decomposers one bullet at a time
Soon, Wally placed himself atop a roller coaster’s tracks, using another spell to summon a small, yet quick tank he’d use to make his getaway, GG followed, Rocket jumping to the tracks, Terry stayed behind, keeping the horde at bay and preventing them from attempting to climb on
On the tracks, GG and Wally’s chase raged on through every turn, slope and even loop-de-loop, even with his speed, GG slowly grew tired, Wally saw this, thinking he was in the clear until he saw something ahead that made him stop in his tracks! An “under construction sign” and piles of sharp debris below
GG began to approach, Wally flipped through his book one more time, looking for any last gambit, before simply deciding to throw the book at the boy, he merely swatted it away as he stopped, huffing and puffing
“I don’t wanna hurt ya,Wizard, just tell me everything you know about Terry”
“Weed? He’s a maggot, always poked into places he shouldn’t and worst of all, he’s a traitor!”
“That’s a lie! He never killed that leader of yours!”
“Is that what this is about? Hehe, well how about you send weed my regards, he can tell all the lies he wants, he was NEVER a part of us and after what he’s done, the only thing he’ll be a part of is the dirt under my boot!”
With rage in his eyes, GG charged a flame in his fist and tried to sucker punch the warlock!
“insidias armis!” Wally called as he clapped his hands, disappearing into the smoke
At this moment, Terry arrived, still wiping off pieces of shroom from his arms, “you good?” he asked
“Yeah, I’m fine, say, the park’s still open, you think we could stay here a bit longer? Could certainly use a moment to take a load off my mind”
“Heh, sounds great!”
And so the duo enjoyed the rest of their day at the theme park, but even still, Wally’s words dwelled in GG’s mind, Terry claimed them to be friends yet it seemed they never cared for him at all,this task was gonna be tougher than he thought…
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~[End of act 4]~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
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How is the sex for him with men and women? How does he feel with men and how does he feel with women in bed?
Hi! I asked your question to the cards and we'll talk about the answer I got, but everyone always keep in mind this is a reading, not an interview with Pedro and nothing is for certain. I also know these are not the only possible genders, but I'll stick to the anon's ask.
Let's start with the men. The cards I pulled were Ace of Spears, King of Teacups and Queen of Teacups. Ace of Spears in a sex reading can be a very sexual card. But it represents a lot of dominance, power, "calling the shots". So he feels dominant, strong, in control. The King of Teacups is a trustworthy lover, he knows what he's doing and he will, again, be dominant and intense, paired with the Queen of Cups, who is someone able to offer a great sexual experience aswell since she is always attentive to what the other needs and wants. I would say he might take pleasure in giving the other guy a satisfying experience, and he feels powerful with that. But he is also VERY dominant, all 3 cards point to that, and he probably likes to be in control of everything.
Moving on to the women. The cards were 9 of Teacups, 10 of Teacups and Knight of Spears. 9 of Teacups, in sex, means he feels incredible. He might have lots of fantasies he wants to explore and he feels free to. 10 of Teacups shows him feeling perfect contentment. Healthy and strong orgasms and a satisfying sexual encounter. There is not much to say with these 2 cards together as they basically mean "he feels fucking awesome" with the ladies in bed and it's very pleasurable. The last card was the Knight of Spears. And here's our dominant man again! He is in control and he will want to call the shots. He will want to explore whatever he has in mind and he will go for it, with a lot of energy and a lot of ideas. The Knight of Spears likes to conquer, to seduce, to dominate, and he can, since he is great with words and knows what to say very well to "catch" the lady he wants.
I then asked if the cards meant he finds both similarly pleasurable, and the cards were King of Spears and Justice. King of Spears is a strategist! He has his own ways and plans for each gender. Again, dominant and in control, no questioning and no doubts. He knows what he's doing. The last card was Justice and seriously, no need to say more. The balance is perfect and each side has its perks (and it’s The Emperor in the illustration of the card as I have pointed out once, eh?).
We are not talking about gender preference, we are talking about the experience with sex, also important to note. Bi people usually are not 50/50 and they may or may not oscillate with their preferences throughout life and no matter what, they are still valid (saying it in the sense of behavior and not the label per se, since we don't know how he identifies or if he has a label at all right now). Since some people get mad and do not understand what I write, I gotta say I don't have a problem with talking about sexual topics (with certain boundaries, of course), what I do not like is clearly made up bullshit and fanfiction written as truth. And no, Tarot is not supposed to be taken as "inside info" or "absolute truth" in any way, it's an Oracle and a person doing their best to interpret what they say.
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only you and me
w/c: 6.7k
warnings: angst, mentions of weed, and some swearing
summary: whenever peter tries to tell you how he feels, harry gets in the way
a/n: ahhhh hi my loves! my mini writing break is over :,) life has been just a mess for me and i’ve been way more critical than usual about my work but i’m doing a little better and ready to get back into everything! this helped me a lot so i’m excited to share it with y’all <3 it’s also my first time writing harry osborn so lmk how i did lmaooofwfjj but yeah pls enjoy
-
“dude, she’s right there! just tell her!” ned whisper yells to peter, elbowing him for emphasis. they’re hidden behind a wall to watch you at your locker. you’re grabbing books while betty rants to you and mj rolls her eyes. “not now. she looks... busy,” peter gulps, gaze trailing down your body. he always finds excuses to put off telling you how he feels.
or rather, excuses find him. something comes up every time he gets the courage to do it. he has no idea why he’s so scared because he’s pretty sure you like him back. pretty sure. there are a few reasons why you might not. also, plenty why you might. you stay up late texting most nights, and you’ve even flirted a couple of times. it never fails to make peter blush. he trips over his words whenever he tries to flirt back.
he’s had feelings for you since the first time you two hung out alone. none of your other friends could make it, but you happily took him up on his offer to come over. you grinned through his whole apartment tour, asked about may and what she does. when peter showed you his room, you even complimented his movie posters, much to his surprise.
“really? you don’t think they’re, like, dorky?”
“no, peter. your interests aren’t dorky. everyone likes what they like.”
and, he liked you. he knew it from that point on. you’d know it too if the universe wouldn’t keep stopping him from saying that.
“she’s so...” peter pauses for a second. him and ned watch you pull betty in by her shoulders as if you’re going to kiss her. she dodges you, mj pushing her back, all three of you giggling about it before you grab betty’s hands and give her words of encouragement. “cool,” peter finishes, turning back to ned. “i mean, how she puts herself out there like that.”
“what’s stopping you from doing the same thing?” ned points out with a knowing smile that peter returns. you make it look so easy. whenever you’re comfortable around people, you can let go of any doubts you have. you stop worrying about what they might think and instead do what you want. it’s inspiring to peter, and heart warming getting to be one of the people you’re fully you with.
he wishes he could apply your wisdom himself.
peter shakes his head, staring down at the floor. “oh, you know. anxiety, fear of rejection. that fun stuff.” “so, yourself,” ned concludes, clapping peter’s backpack so hard it makes him stumble forward. betty and mj wave goodbye to you before heading to their first class. you’re still getting your things together at your locker. this is peter’s moment.
“come on, dude! y/n’s not busy anymore. you got this.” ned keeps his hand on peter’s back, adding on, “it’s been a year already.” “half a year,” peter corrects him in a mumble. he’s liked you for a really long time. “ok, i’m going. wish me luck.” he takes a deep breath and focuses in on you. “aw, dude. you don’t need it.” ned gives him one last pat on the back. “good luck, though.” “thanks, man. see you in trig.”
right as peter starts heading over, harry comes up behind you and covers your eyes. you squeal, jumping up and turning to him, laughing as you playfully hit at his chest. he brings you into a hug where your face is buried in his sweater and probably inhaling his super strong, super expensive cologne.
that’s what’s stopping peter, harry freaking osborn. his own friend.
peter quickly loses the tiny bit of confidence ned gave him. he figures it might be better to hold off on his confession and get an early start to class. unfortunately, it doesn’t seem like that’s going to happen. harry has already spotted him and calls him over.
“hey, pete! come give us some love, eh?” harry beams, an arm slung around your shoulders and you smiling up at him. you direct your smile to peter when he slumps his way to your locker. his lips pull into a barely noticeable frown. you notice. “there’s my guy. why so down, sunshine?” harry offers his fist for a fist bump. peter gives it to him, eyes staying on you.
harry osborn. where to begin with such a specimen? he’s the perfect combination of everything you’d want in a guy. he gets good grades, he’s a star player on on the basketball team, nice to everyone and makes you laugh, popular yet fits right into your small group.
he was friends with you before the popular thing. what kicked it off was him making varsity basketball while only being a sophomore. yep, he’s unreal. since then, he’s been balancing his cool life and also hanging with “the nerds,” as he likes to call you. he got his own feelings for you along the way. peter can tell.
he’ll give you rides home, compliment how you look, basically act like your boyfriend without really being it. it absolutely infuriates peter because he doesn’t compare to harry in the slightest. if he were you and had the choice between himself or harry, he would pick harry.
it’s been a factor in why he hasn’t come clean about how he feels yet. he’s not trying to create a love triangle that he doesn’t stand a chance surviving in.
“for real, peter. you good?” you ask him, eyebrows knitted together in concern. “fine,” peter lies and musters up a smile. “i’m just tired. didn’t sleep too good last night.” you’re only more concerned now. this has been happening to him a lot lately. you search for his eyes. “again?”
“aw, man. you need something for it?” harry punches peter’s shoulder and lowers his voice. “i know this kid who-“ “harry, stop.” your words are serious, tone lighthearted. you throw your head back on his arm. “do you really know a kid?” “i’m not telling you,” he says in an overly happy voice, you humming the same way. peter feels like he’s third wheeling.
“i was telling pete.” harry looks at him expectantly, peter’s mouth dropping open while he thinks of what to say. harry likes to mess around. this is a different level, though. “no thanks. i- i shouldn’t. i’m-“ “relax, i don’t know a kid,” harry chuckles and points at peter. “your face right now.” it’s completely flushed. you knock into harry’s side.
“ok, well literally no one laughed. you’re scaring him,” you tell harry sternly. peter tugs tight on one of his backpack straps. he doesn’t feel like he’s third wheeling you two now. he feels like your kid. he’ll never let ned mettle in his love life ever again if this is where it gets him. “he knows i’m kidding, y/n/n. right?” harry checks with peter. you make a face at him that says you aren’t convinced.
he switches his arm from you to peter, drawing him into his side. “look, pete. i’m sorry. the only kid i know who’s selling is chocolates for his band trip.” you’re satisfied with that, grinning at both of them. peter forces a laugh and nods. “no worries, man. i gotta get to class.” “good boy,” harry lets him go. “bye, pete. we’ll see you at lunch,” you remind him. he gives you a tight lipped smile. “see you, y/n/n.”
you and harry continue practically spooning each other as soon as peter is out of sight.
what the hell is going on?
peter is back to being grumpy, plopping down in his seat next to ned. their teacher has the lesson plan pulled up on the smart board. ned looks from it to peter, almost jumping in his seat. “oh, you’re back already? how’d it go?” “it didn’t go,” peter huffs, copying down the aim. he’s only doing it so he doesn’t have to look ned in the eyes while telling him he bailed. again.
“you didn’t do it?” ned repeats, peter writing something about pi and a unit circle in his notebook. he bites the inside of his cheek. “you have to do it at some point,” ned sighs out and picks up his pencil. even he’s getting tired of this, and ned never gets tired of a good friends to lovers moment. “i think she likes harry,” peter says under his breath. “huh?” ned gasps.
peter doesn’t feel like explaining the extremely awkward moment he just finished living. although, it wouldn’t hurt to get a second opinion. “y/n. he came over, and they kept hugging and whatever.” “they always do that,” ned almost scoffs, their trigonometry teacher moving to stand in front of the class. “yeah, but he had his arm around her the whole time we-“
the bell rings and cuts their conversation short. peter struggles to label the unit circle they learn about when his mind is filled to its capacity with images of you and harry all over each other. it’s not daydreaming. this is a nightmare. maybe, he actually will be having sleep problems.
peter’s morning is relatively decent after that. he gets to do an experiment with mj in chemistry, and she lets him take the lead for once. spanish is easy, health is okay, then he has a free period, then it’s lunch. things can only go downhill from here.
he thinks about hiding in the library until it’s over, but it’s the thought of harry eating your face that gets him to drag himself to the cafeteria.
flash is at the head of your table talking to harry when peter gets there. great, now he can’t eat his soggy chicken fingers in peace. “sounds dope. let’s go on the-“ flash stops saying what he was saying and nods at peter. “penis parker, you’re late.” peter takes his seat on your left, harry on your right. you glance over at him to make sure he’s okay. he acts like he doesn’t care, peeling open his milk carton.
“just text me later, man. get outta here,” harry dismisses flash, the two of them doing a bro handshake before he leaves. he’s well aware of his and peter’s history. he keeps them separate for the obvious reasons. peter appreciates it because saying no to flash is nearly impossible. he shouldn’t be so mad at harry, should he? he’s a good friend.
harry’s arm snakes around your waist and brings you closer to him. never mind.
“who’s up for sushi later?” he asks the table, everyone agreeing and saying how awesome that sounds. everyone except peter. you tap his shoulder with a small smile. “what about you, peter? you coming?” he realizes you’re all waiting for him to respond and puts down his milk. “uh, i can’t. homework,” he lamely answers.
“dude, we have homework, too. just do it a little later,” ned suggests, betty laying her head on his shoulder. you share a look with her, your eyes wide and a grin on your lips. that must have been what you were talking about this morning. she asked for boy advice. ned advice. why can’t this crap work out for peter?
“i really can’t. sorry, guys,” peter half heartedly apologizes.
he misses the disappointment that crosses your features because he’s pouting at his lunch again.
“homework, huh?” mj tests him, squinting as she takes a sip of apple juice. harry nudges peter’s side with two fingers. “you still mad about the sleeping thing?” “sleeping thing? what sleeping thing?” betty wonders while ned rests his head against hers. a quiet laugh slips out of you as you lean in to tell her.
“peter said he couldn’t sleep last night, so harry offered him...” you mime rolling a joint. “i said no,” peter clarifies, rolling his eyes at the inevitable teasing he’s about to get. none of you have even smoked besides harry. you’re being annoying about it. “of course you did,” mj sighs and kicks her feet up on the table. “unrelated to what y/n just said... harry, i have insomnia.”
everyone bursts into laughter at that, betty shoving her side and you pulling harry by his torso as he pretends to go into his backpack. peter wants nothing to do with any of this. he usually enjoys joking around with the group, even if it’s at his expense because it’s from a place of love.
today feels like you’re straight up making fun of him. harry might as well invite flash to join in.
“alright, alright, alright. enough of the weed talk,” harry decides, you removing your arms from him and grabbing your coffee. “you’re such a bad influence.” your voice drips with sarcasm. you bend the straw and take a sip while scooting closer to peter. “you really can’t come later? i feel like i’ve barely seen you today.” that’s on harry. “i wish i could, y/n/n,” peter exhales. “i’ll text you later, okay?”
you don’t get to answer because mj tugs on your arm, distracting you from peter. she explains how she has to do an art project on what it means to be a woman and needs help brainstorming ideas. you’re full of them, offering up an interesting perspective for her to use. peter smiles to himself as he listens in. you find a new way to impress him every day.
he should tell you that.
“hey, y/n?” “listen to her! you’re seriously my idol,” betty gushes, so loudly you don’t hear peter. not a single thing has gone in his favor at this table. he gives up.
peter locks himself in his room when he gets home from his overall terrible day. he does homework like he said he would, only taking a break for dinner, giving one word replies to may’s questions about school. he’d much rather be having sushi with you. he would’ve gone if the others didn’t.
after dinner, it’s back to grumbling and scribbling down answers. there’s a knock at peter’s door around ten o’clock, which he assumes is may saying goodnight. “i’ll be done in a few minutes, may! love you.” “it’s y/n,” you reply, the smile clear in your voice. his eyes go comically wide. that’s the last thing he expected to hear. “oh. uh, come in.”
you’re holding a small takeout bag, shutting the door behind you and walking over to his desk. you meet his twinkling eyes in the dim light that hits off his walls. from his open window, you faintly hear cars as they rush by and honk their horns in the distance, accompanied by a fresh breeze. it’s cozy, safe. it’s peter.
“hey. what’re you doing here?” peter questions, leaving his pencil in his binder and shutting it. you shake around the plastic bag. “i saved you a roll.” he bites back a smile, getting up from his chair. “may let me in. she was really chill about it,” you continue and hold out the sushi for him. “it’s a california roll. i wasn’t sure what you wanted, and everyone likes those.”
peter lets his smile spread out and takes the bag from you. “thanks, y/n/n. i was honestly hoping one of you would have leftovers.” you laugh softly, peter setting the bag down on his desk. he scratches the back of his neck. “did you guys have fun?” “yeah. i missed you, though.” you clasp your hands behind your back. “everyone did.”
“i feel bad i didn’t go. just... things felt off today,” peter admits the real reason he stayed home, you letting out a breath. “it was harry, wasn’t it? god, he was being so weird.” your arms drop back to your sides. “there’s a difference between playing around and actually upsetting people.” by people, you mean peter. no one else seemed too bothered by him. “i’m sorry, peter. i tried to make him stop.”
“no, you don’t have to apologize,” peter assures you sweetly, grabbing one of your hands. “it’s not your fault, okay? he probably didn’t realize what he was doing. the jokes landed.” he’s referring to ned, mj, and betty finding harry’s comments hilarious. you lace your fingers with peter’s and frown. “this isn’t like him. maybe he’s stressed about a game.” your gaze drifts off to the side, what you see getting you to perk up.
“is that new?” you ask peter, leading him by his hand over to a poster he put up recently. it’s for 13 going on 30. you showed it to him a couple of weeks ago, and he clearly liked it a lot. any movie that makes it to peter’s wall is a special one. “mhm. i got it literally right after you went home the night we watched,” he chuckles and looks over at you while you study the poster.
you turn to face peter again, keeping your hand tight in his. “were you gonna tell me something earlier? at lunch?” he’s confused for a second, then he remembers your ideas for mj’s art project. the fact that you cared enough to bring it up after all these hours makes his stomach do summersaults in the best way. he shrugs and gives you a smile.
“the stuff you were saying about femininity and how there are so many ways to define it,” peter starts, you grinning back at him, at how he took an interest in what you were saying. “you’re so smart, y/n. you make me wanna be better.” a light pink dusts his cheeks. “peter, you’re a feminist?” you coo, joking but genuinely wondering at the same time. he squeezes your hand. “duh.”
“i thought so,” you nod, taking in the rest of what he said. “you think i’m smart? i trust you because you’re way smarter.” peter pffts in response. “i’m only good at, like, physics. you’re good at things that really matter. smart in that way.” you’re feeling your own face get hot. you swing yours and peter’s hands back and forth. “why are you the nicest person ever?”
the answer to that, may, peeks her head into the room. “hey, kids. it’s getting late.” she notices your intertwined hands and shoots peter a smirk. “i thought you were a cool aunt,” he teases, you sadly letting go of him. “she is. thanks for having me over so late,” you tell may on your way to the door. “oh, stop it. you can come over any time.” she puts a hand on your arm. “thank you so much,” you murmur back.
you walk backwards to the doorway, may leaving you two to say your goodbyes. “wanna hang out only you and me? on friday maybe?” that should make up for everything earlier. “yeah, of course. friday is perfect,” peter agrees and bounces on his feet as excitement takes over him. “thanks again for the sushi.”
“no problem. goodnight.” it’s taking every last bit of power in you to not freak out. “night. text me when you get home.” he presses his tongue into his cheek. you slowly pull the door shut. “ok, i will. bye!” it closes, leaving peter skipping across his room to his bed on one side and you doing a little happy dance on the other.
the next day at school, everything is back to normal. honestly, better than normal. your hangout with peter is tomorrow, and he’s planning on telling he likes you then. he already talked it over with ned. he’s relieved it’s finally happening, especially since him and betty have their own thing. she’ll be taking up most of his free time from here.
your group is spending lunch outside today, lounging across a picnic table, surrounded by trees and the shining sun in a bright blue sky. mj sits on the table and has her feet on the bench, which would usually bug peter to no end. he doesn’t mind this time because it takes up enough room that harry has to sit with ned and betty instead of you. you lean into peter’s side and stab a piece of lettuce from your salad.
“it’s so nice out,” betty sighs, ripping off half her cookie and giving it to ned. “we should ditch.” “oh my god, you sound like harry,” you groan between bites of salad. peter lets out a breathy laugh, you looping your arm through his. he grins down at where you’re linked. harry crosses his own arms over his chest. “she wishes.” betty only nods because her mouth is full of m&m’s.
“nah, seriously. i’d take us out somewhere, but i have practice after school.” he speaks quieter than he normally does, less confident. your theory about him having basketball drama was right. “what did we tell you? talk about the sports shit with your sports friends,” mj complains, sitting back on her hands. she glances at harry over her shoulder and catches ned mouthing you can’t say that.
sitting criss cross, she spins around to face harry, unenthusiastically saying, “what i meant was, you sound upset. what’s wrong?” harry gets into it right away, like he’s been waiting for someone to ask. “coach says there might be a scout at the next game. it’s a really good opportunity even though i don’t have to worry about... college yet.” the word makes him cringe.
“oh, damn. that’s a big deal. scary,” mj snorts, turning back to you and peter. her behavior makes ned internally face palm. “that’s awesome, dude. you’re gonna play amazing like always.” he gives harry a high five, who smiles nervously in response. he’s never nervous. “thanks, bro. you guys wanna come and watch?” he’s never invited you to one of his games before either.
this isn’t a group of friends that likes to spend their weekends in bleachers while angry teens shout around them.
“definitely. we’ll be there to support you, harry,” betty answers for everyone, ned pecking her cheek in satisfaction. mj cusses to herself before replying. “if i absolutely must, sure.” only you and peter haven’t said anything yet. he’s been chewing his lower lip, and you your salad. harry looks between you two hopefully. it’s more so at you, which peter doesn’t like.
“y/n? pete? it would help a lot, i’m serious.” he taps his fingers on the table until one of you speaks up. you’re the one who does. “i’ll go. this is pretty huge, right? congrats.” you reach across the table and squeeze his shoulder while simultaneously tightening your arm around peter’s. he takes that as a cue. “i’ll go, too. happy for you, man.”
though peter isn’t currently in the best place with harry, he should show his support by showing up. it can’t be too bad since the rest of you will be there.
a loud, long chuckle leaves harry as he hops up from his bench and comes to yours and peter’s. he bends over and wraps both of you in a hug from behind at the same time. his arms are around each of your shoulders, holding you so close his cheeks are squished against either of your heads. you giggle at that, peter finding himself laughing along and reaching back to ruffle harry’s hair.
staying mad at him is one of the world’s greatest challenges.
“you’re saints, both of you. my angels.” he kisses the back of your head, then lays one right on peter’s cheek, leaving him blushing red and grinning. “what about the rest of us? i never go to shit like this,” mj huffs and seems genuinely offended. harry wiggles his eyebrows. “you want a kiss?” his offer gets her flustered, which she can’t manage to hide. that’s a first.
“shut up. i’m just saying... never mind.” mj glares at you and peter, ned and betty making kissing noises behind her. “someone change the subject.” peter steps in. “when’s the game, harry?” he asks, harry snapping and waving his finger. “tomorrow! cancel your plans, kiddos.” “like we had any,” betty retorts.
some of you did. that was going to be peter’s hangout with you.
ned smiles sympathetically at peter before betty is getting his attention. you‘re unfazed and rambling to harry how proud you are of him.
did last night mean nothing? was it an empty gesture? were you only doing it out of guilt? peter must have read your visit wrong. he’s been wrong the whole time he’s liked you. you don’t like him back, you pity him. harry is who you’re really interested in.
may always says he should trust his instincts.
peter pulls his arm from yours suddenly, swinging his backpack onto his shoulders. you’re taken back because it’s so out of no where. you stop talking to harry so you can figure out his deal. “where are you going?” “bell’s gonna ring,” peter mumbles and picks up his lunch tray. he heads to the garbage can without another word or goodbye to anyone.
“i’m gonna go check on him,” you tell harry, already getting up from the bench. “you do that,” he acknowledges and calls mj’s name again.
peter tosses his mostly untouched food in the trash, seeing you make your way over from the corner of his eye. he tries to speed walk inside so he doesn’t have to talk to you. you’re too quick, cornering him between the door and brick wall.
“we still have ten minutes,” you state, worry flashing across your face. he’s avoiding you. well, attempting to. “what’s wrong?” peter gulps before saying anything. “my next class is on the other side of the-“ “no,” you cut him off. “what’s really wrong?”
he doesn’t feel like having this discussion. it’s bad enough he came to the realization his feelings are one sided. must he break that down for you so soon?
you toy with your sleeve while you speak because peter doesn’t. “i thought you and harry were fine again. i mean, he kissed you.” peter clenches his jaw so hard he can imagine the sound of it cracking. “it’s not about harry.” “what, then? what the fuck happened?” your sleeves are now balled in your fists. you hate it when peter does this angsty routine.
he keeps his voice low and calm so he doesn’t come off as jealous or hurt. he’s both of those things. “the game is tomorrow. friday. when we were supposed to hang out.” you meet peter’s eyes with nothing but remorse in yours. “i... i forgot,” is all you have to say.
you feel awful. he’s had a tough couple of days, and you fell through on your promise to cheer him up.
“clearly,” peter remarks, voice sharp. the way you’re looking at him makes him think he won’t like what’s coming. “peter, we have to go,” you almost whine. “i’m really sorry, i am, but this is a big night for harry. he needs us there.” peter stays silent. you’re twisting the knife deeper into him with every word. “i wouldn’t be cancelling if this wasn’t important.”
now you’re cancelling?
you reach for peter’s hand, but he shoves it into his pocket. that stings for you and him. “please, peter. we’ll hang out at the game, i swear.” this is the last chance you’ve got, so you pile it on. “harry won’t even be there, technically. he’ll... he’ll be on the court.” peter hadn’t thought about that. he lets himself unclench, starting to see the appeal. you add one more thing to lighten the mood and persuade him.
“i’ll buy you popcorn, all you can eat.” it’s that easy. cracking a smile, peter accepts. he’ll deal with his unresolved, unreciprocated feelings after he stuffs his face, courtesy of you. “you better. i’m gonna need it for this long ass game.” your face lights up, grabbing his wrist in both hands.
“so, you’ll come?” “i’ll be there,” he confirms. you throw your arms around his neck. he laughs into the hug and holds you by your middle. “i promise this’ll be the first and last game we ever go to,” you say and mean it. harry is lucky you’re even suffering through this a first time. “thank god,” peter exhales, resting his chin on your head.
that interaction leaves peter confused as hell. you’re crushing his mind and soul one minute, then hugging him the next. you were making him feel so special lasts night, and treating harry the same way today. it’s so jumbled that he isn’t sure if he’s in the friend zone or something more zone.
there are a ton of mixed signals coming his way, and he sucks at reading people as is.
he can’t take another second of this. he’d rather you come out and say you like harry already because it’s torture. knowing you don’t want him in that way would at least eliminate the possibility of anything happening between you two, and allow him to stop driving himself insane.
he’d be able to stop taking it out on harry, too.
the hold you have on peter, that you’re oblivious to, rules his every thought and decision. he’s constantly analyzing what you say to him, debating whether or not your affection is simply platonic. it’s been half a year of this madness, the night of harry’s game blurring every line so much more.
your group arrives a bit early to find seats and hype harry up before he plays. peter gets there after all of you because he’s not exactly in a rush to watch sweaty guys be aggressive. there’s only one upside, which is spending the night with you... and everyone else.
he steps into the gym that’s filling up fast with family members, friends, and the college scout harry was talking about. midtown has a different feeling to it at night. the smell of pencils is oddly stronger, and it’s a lot less intimidating.
cheerleaders are huddled in a circle while the team supervisor has them run their chants. the “leading official,” who peter thought was called a referee, takes his place off to the side. coaches give their players last minute instructions, players fool around with each other, a lot is going on.
peter scans the room for you, and grins a toothy grin when you catch his eyes. you’re sitting by yourself in one of the middle bleachers, only a bag of skinny pop in your lap. you return the smile once you spot him and wave him over.
“i don’t know why, but i thought they’d have an actual concession stand,” you explain the lack of fresh, buttery popcorn as peter takes a seat next to you. he catches the prepackaged bag you toss him. “it’s just a snack table.” “works either way,” peter hums and pokes the bag. “i’m not sure skinny pop is all i can eat, though.” “it’s good!” you defend the snack you chose for him.
“i’m kidding! you’re right, it’s kind of addicting.” he puts it by his feet for now and gives you a half smile. “you’re welcome,” you deadpan in a playful tone. “thanks.” he narrows his eyes. “where’s everyone else?” “right,” you twist around and gesture to the bleacher above you. mj is gloomily seated near the back. ned and betty are a few behind you.
“i told them to find their own seats so we can sit together, alone.” you look over at peter and move ever so slightly closer. “welcome to our friday hangout. just the two of us.” “aw, you didn’t have to do that,” peter laughs out, his knee bumping yours. “but, i’m happy you did.” he goes to put an arm around you, then harry comes racing up the stairs.
just the two of you didn’t last so long.
“y/n, i’m freaking out,” harry announces, zooming through your row to get over to you. he stops once he’s standing in front of peter and shakes him by his shoulder. “hey, pete. you made it.” “yup,” peter replies, pressing his lips together. you wince at his reaction, then quirk an eyebrow at harry. “you’re freaking out? why?”
harry sits down between you and peter, blissfully unaware of the moment he interrupted.
“i found the scout. he’s fucking terrifying as fuck. this super ripped guy, looks like he’d rather be anywhere else,” he talks quietly, like the man will hear him. “he’s not the only one,” peter says to himself, kicking around his bag of popcorn to pass time. you ignore him and grimace.
“shit. wait, how do you know it’s him? did they tell you?” you’re not sure how these things go. harry casually shrugs a shoulder. “dude has a clipboard. seems legit to me.” he gives you a cocky smile. “he’s also in the row before mj. that’s how i noticed. um...” his back now facing peter, he whispers something in your ear that makes you giggle.
peter’s face scrunches up as the spark of anger the past few days have lit reignites itself.
when harry pulls away, you motion for him to come closer with your index finger, cupping your hand around his ear and speaking into it.
nope, no more. peter is entirely about to explode. you cancelled your plans so you can force him to watch basketball, you sweet talk him so he’ll let it go, and you’re running right back to harry after all of that? what the hell does that mean?
peter stands up from his seat. “y/n, we need to talk,” he demands, you moving away from harry to respond. “ok, gimme a minute. we’re-“ “no, we need to talk now.” you don’t have time to refute because he’s taking your arm and dragging you away. harry squints at you in utter confusion.
“um, have a good game! we’ll talk later,” you call back to him, walking with peter even though you have no idea what his issue is and aren’t a fan of how he’s acting.
he releases you once you’re in the hallway. you make a point of harshly yanking your arm back, a scowl painting your lips. “jesus, peter. i was having a conversation.” “do you like harry?” peter blurts out. you’re so shocked at his abruptness that you don’t give him much to work with, only, “what?” “do you like harry?” he asks you again, this time less accusing and more curious.
“do i like...” you’re too aware of the seemingly hundreds of people surrounding you to answer comfortably. “can we talk about this somewhere else?” “sure,” peter nods, letting you lead the way since he did to get out here. you two go down the hall and choose the first room you see, which happens to be the custodian’s closet. it’s thankfully unlocked.
things were tense between you and peter on the way over, and it’s physically mirrored when you step into the room, air thick and smelling of lemon cleaning supplies. you tug on the string hanging down to turn on the light. it casts a faded glow, leaving you in mostly darkness. you sort of like it. this feels more intimate, which is fitting for what you’re both about to say.
neither one of you knows where to begin. peter’s question is ringing in the back of your mind, and you could touch on that, but there’s more to it than a simple yes or no. you don’t have to worry about it because peter gets his words out first.
“i think harry likes you, and i think you like him back,” peter restarts, already sounding deflated by what he came up with. “he doesn’t, and i don’t.” you take a step towards him. “he likes mj.” it’s peter’s turn to be shocked. the hint of a smile sets on your lips. “that’s what we were talking about. harry asked if he should take her to dinner after the game, and i said yes.”
this is going better than he expected.
“mj is the one who likes him, not me,” you reiterate and watch some life enter peter again, a tiny bit. he’s coming around, and he wants to believe you. his trust issues don’t. “but, you’re so... touchy with each other. the hugging the other day?” he mentions. you tilt your head to the side in amusement. “friends can’t hug?”
to be fair, you hugged peter yesterday. that’s a point rightfully shut down.
“he calls you pretty,” peter tries, raising both eyebrows. you have to laugh at this one. “you call may pretty.”
obviously, peter’s analysis skills could use some serious improvements. it sounds like he had the right idea, wrong person. your relationship with harry is platonic. hell, he’s crushing on a whole different person. this actually opens up the possibility of you liking peter in the romantic way, of him being in the something more zone. he had it backwards.
in case peter isn’t convinced yet, and because you really want to, you use one more trick to prove to him you don’t like harry.
“do me and harry do this?” your lips speak for you, colliding with peter’s unexpectedly yet easily. he feels like he’s floating, like he’s in some sort of magical wonderland until it hits him that this is real, and he should probably kiss you back. he does so softly and tangles his fingers in your locks. his hand supports the back of your head as the kiss goes on.
you push forward so your bodies are almost fused together, the closest you can be while you hold his jaw. peter breaks the kiss for a short breather, going back in without more than a moment passing. this one is feverish, his free arm looping around your lower back, hand resting on the small of it. you let out a giggle against his swollen lips and stroke your thumb over his jawline.
he’s been waiting to do this for the longest time, but he doesn’t have to tell you that. it shows in how eager he was to reciprocate, his shyness blossoming into passion. you feel yourself melting under his touch, the kiss eventually becoming a series of short pecks. peter gives you the final one. his pink lips form a grin when you pull apart. your hands stay on each other, not in a rush to go anywhere.
���woah, i like you so much,” peter laughs out. the words roll off his tongue naturally. “you know i like you,” you drawl, smiling at him, a full body smile while you caress his skin. he winds both arms around you and dips his head down to steal another kiss. you’re loving what’s happening. however, you don’t feel like making out while dirty brooms stare at you. you should take this back home.
“wanna get out of here? i do,” you suggest, voice muffled from his lips. they detach from yours and brush your cheek gently. peter makes a funny face. “hm, i thought we had to come. harry needs us,” he says what you did yesterday, earning a groan back. “you’re joking.” “i’m not. what kind of friends would we be, ditching him like that?”
he’s going to end you one day.
“yeah, no. i have no idea how basketball works, and i’d like to keep it that way,” peter drops the act, pressing his fingers into your sides. “i’ve been so mean to harry. i was...” “a dick?” you finish for him. it’s more of a statement than a question. to soften the blow, you rub his cheek with the tips of your fingers. “yup. he’s gonna think i hate him or something if we don’t stay.” his formerly smiley face is frowning.
“harry of all people will understand after we tell him our reasons,” you reassure him, nudging under his chin with your nose. “besides, he has other things to worry about. mj, the scout. it’s fine.” peter considers it, ultimately giving in to you like he always does, resting his forehead on yours. “i guess so. less distractions for him, yeah.” “exactly. that’s what i wanna hear.”
having his approval, you unwind yourself from him and head to the door. his fingers wrap around your wrist gently. “what about my popcorn?” a giggle escapes your lips. “you’re still on that?” “you said all i can eat!” his voice comes out high pitched, adorably high pitched.
“fine. i might have those bags you put in the microwave.” you smile when his fingers lock with yours, peter kissing the side of your head.
“even better. let’s go home.”
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i was going thru ur blog and u have good posts about ableist aus and i was wondering - what if in the aus the requirements for warriors were different? Like instead of having to fight jay only hunts? Would the muddling of roles still be ableist? In a Tree-like situation?If its not presented in a "work super hard to get what you want" and more in a "yeah they can decide what he wants to do". This is mostly for jay (and cinder) specifically because they had desires to be warriors yet were forced to be medicine cats because of ableism (ig this can apply to briar but i just truly cant remember oots that well and i havent read her death). I am asking because i am still trying to unlearn the ableist mindset that i grew up with. Feel free to ignore this ask and thnx!
hey yeah thank you for asking! took the opportunity to write up more general thoughts on rewrites as a whole and i went over why exactly theyre ableist hopefully that provides a better perspective
i think the major thing to keep in mind is that the structure of the clans is very abled centric and overly ignorant of inner community work (for example dens are only solidified or altered when either the area takes damage/the clans grows wrt population) theres a fixation on marking territory and starting fights and whatever with other clans which is whats expected of most warriors to partake in. to fix those implications in any fanwork youve really gotta knead into them and understand the nature of their ableism....its not just a problem with cats being barred from being warriors its the whole occupation and the standard its held to, so to speak (+ that fits into general clan society being flawed but eh thats another thing and also its easy to branch out into thought about)
going to stress other disabled people might have other solutions to how disabled cats are received this is just how i like to think of things
first i think its kind of interesting to examine discrepancies between disabled cats in canon as somewhat of an indicator of clan attitudes and leaders and whatnot. like i think you could get something interesting by regarding lets say deadfoot in windclan and cinderpelt in thunderclan who both have bad legs yet had different experiences with them in clan life. if you wanna go a step further comparing generations like lilywhisker and deadfoot or cinderpelt and jayfeather (+ the consideration of how congenital disabilities are regarded) can also make things interesting and just give you an idea of what to do. having the clan systems stray from a clear-cut common attitude both gives you more freedom for different approaches + adds to worldbuilding anyway. imo boiling down clan society to perfect utopia just gets boring but you can have imperfections in the system that depict the disabled experience just fine. just be careful with them and the way they come across yeah?
(real quick as an in between. god just dont refer to cats/their injuries as crippled. it still happens somehow)
im a little ambivalent on the idea of creating a ‘special role’ for disabled cats to be thrown into. cause then thats a repeat of canon medicine den really. its like ‘oh youre disabled youre instantly discarded into the x role pit’ i think just adding substantial in-universe changes to the warrior rank itself (vagueness is fun actually) or expanding on ‘warrior types’ rectifies the othering angle. ‘othering’ as a whole is just as bad as the ‘exception’ archetype people run for most warrior aus i want to state that clearly. effectively if youre gonna introduce roles that dont depend on fighting or hunting or both make sure theres abled cats who have them too. like say you want a camp-based role where a cats job is to fix dens or one where they help in the nursery, its far easier for a cat who cant run to manage those but also have some cats who are physically capable of doing other ‘tasks’ do the same thing for personal reasons
the tree comparison is interesting honestly cause i guess you could just give a cat a particular thing to do as a nonfixed position. and roles accordingly being made for a cat to fill until they cant and the positions done away with afterward. but youve gotta do it carefully so you dont fall into othering as ive said. id avoid something like that personally i just dont like the quality of ‘well theyre not a warrior (the most noble/useful concept in cat society) theyre actually some other thing’
in general giving disabled cats agency and choice is the best thing you can do. whether this means them deciding on tasks they can do themselves or picking a certain kind of warrior to be or asking for an assistant to help them out when they do stuff. the way you wanna pull it off again depends on my first question of “how does the relevant part of your warrior cat world treat disabled cats already”
very important point, the majority of the ableism also comes in the form of character narratives and not just the structure of the world itself. like think for a bit why the writers decided jayfeather shouldve been forced to be a medic or why briarlight got killed off early etc etc. characters ‘wanting’ to be like the abled ideal and still being bitter about not fulfilling that years down the line are just part of the ableist storylines. if youre abled id literally say just do away with those sadstuck ‘i wanted to be a warrior!’ moments. if you really want to id say pull a cinderpelt or a shadowsight where a cats time in the medicine den started their fascination with medicine and they switched to that path due to personal intrigue. id say a more interesting and realistic angle to it is having a disabled cat who found fulfilment in doing something else besides being a warrior becoming bitter about their entire clan ‘mourning’ how theyll never fight again or giving them the pretence of being a warrior being the best thing you can do.... it depends on the character really
this is just a very basic disability thing but stray from the whole ‘useless/dead weight’ way of regarding disabled characters. like dont place their worth on how well they service a clan or not theyre still deserving of shelter and whatnot. you dont need to justify a cats existence or usefulness by going ‘well they may be blind but their sense of smell is excellent so we keep them around’ or whatever its just no good
last thing i can think of is like. dont disregard how a cats disability affects them. like its fine that briarlight cant fight (or even hunt major types of prey) she doesnt need some convoluted method that lets her do that. there are like a dozen other warriors hunting and fighting and theres present value and enjoyment in the stuff she does around camp. she doesnt have to be brightheart 2 its ok
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The Rescuers
Part One: “Old acquaintances meet again"
Summary: You are a mandalorian rebel friends with Captain Rex so you are well aware of the entire "clone situation" going on. And of course you want to help as much as you can. You then go to Ryloth trying to help the Syndulla's and maybe find your old friend Cody.
Pairing: None. Yet. But will be a Crosshair x Reader.
Gender: There'll be no mentions of gender or pronouns on this part yet. Though further in the story it might have she/they pronouns used.
Word count: 1.6k
Tags: Injury recover, post-clone wars story, rescuing clones/friends, a bit of melancholy?
Warning: Brief description of injury.
Notes: So, I literally dreamed most parts of this story (I know, crazy Star Wars obsession here). I filled up some parts as I was writing of course. And it turned out a bit like a beautiful sad tragic. I might even do a playlist for this fanfic actually. Hope u enjoy it :)
The war, the republic, the jedi all have ended. Literally on the same day. And what it seemed like a fresh start, finally a moment of peace in the chaos turned into nightmares. You weren’t there when it happened, you just heard the news of Obi-Wan saying the jedi order and the republic had fallen and you also heard the now Emperor Palpatine telling everyone that the clone wars has ended and the jedi were traitor, they’ve tried to assassinate him according to well… himself. And now he’s forming this new galactic empire, giving people numbers like the ones clones used to have and killing off any resistance against this new order. Everyone seemed to believe him, you gotta give him that he was a pretty damn’ good liar indeed. But you knew better than that. You are mandalorian after all and were friends with no one less than Duchess Satine and Senator Padmé. You helped them countless times in their diplomatics and you even fought with the jedi and the clones at times. They were good people, yes, the order might have messed up at lot but traitors? Murders? They sure didn’t deserve to die like that and I guess… No one does.
You quickly then joined the rebellion. There you found many of former politics like Senator Organa and even a clone… Captain Rex (or is it Commander now?). You’ve met him once before and he seemed like a good person and looks like he’s really a great man just like you thought. You soon became friends. But sadly, the other clones you knew before like Cody were still with the empire. Though both you and Rex were very determinate to help others like him. And also, obviously, protect your allies against the empire.
Well, as expected trouble begins. There’s been rumors about what’s going in Ryloth with the Syndulla’s and the empire occupation. Worried about them and their people, you go there to help as you can. And if there’s need, you’d call more rebels to help too though you didn’t want to envolve more people yet because you’re afraid of the reaction it could cause ( and what that would cost for ryloth and its people). You also have a tiny tiny hope that maybe just maybe Cody could be there.
Arriving in Ryloth, you discover the Syndulla family have indeed oppose agains the empire occupation and they’ve went into a lot of trouble because of that but apparently a group of mercenaries (?) have already rescued them from the prison they were sent to. One less problem for you to fix I guess. You were glad for them but you still want to spy a little on the empire and see what you could find out after all, the trip couldn’t be for nothing.
You find your way and get to a particular high hill with a great view of one imperial base. You pick up your binoculars and the only person you see in a sort of balcony is a very depressive-looking Crosshair. You remember him from that one time clone force 99 saved your butt from the mess you’ve yourself in. He was… quite unfriendly, let’s say. But he did get the job done and made sure you were okay so you just ignored his behavior. Looking at him now it was looking at a shadow of him.
It made you remember what Rex told you once:
“We clones were all created with this chip thing in our my minds. We were made for the war and the war only but apparently someone thought it would be great if they let us think we've got free will. That we could be anything we wanted to be after the war. So we made friends, some of us found a family with our jedi. They let we hope. Just so we have all of that taken away from us with order 66. The war had ended for everyone except for us. We had our will taken from us, our minds controlled by this chip and we had to follow orders. While we're still there conscious of what we were doing we had to kill the people we fought together the entire war. I remember her face... I'm so glad she didn't see my face. I couldn't bare.”
Thinking about what all the clones been through, you can’t just leave him like this. He did save you once and this was your chance to repay that. Rex keeps saying we can’t save everyone (more to himself than to you) but one person is better than nobody, right? At the time you improvise a plan: neither the empire nor Cross can’t know yet that you’re a rebel. You haven’t done anything yet incriminating (at least not that they were aware of). So you can just jump in there where he was standing and talk to him. Worst case scenario he ignores you. However you sure knew how to annoy him enough that at least he would call you out and when that happens you act. Ok, that you still have to figure out exactly how you would act. Well, half of a plan is better than no plan.
You just jump in behind his back and of course he points his gun at you as expected. But he apparently recognizes who it’s standing in front of him and put his riffle down.
“ Hello there.” You say.
“What do you think you’re doing?” He replies.
“Oh, please, don’t act like you aren’t happy to see me.”
He gives you a faint of a smile. “Don’t flatter yourself.”
You smiled back. “But seriously, what you’re doing here all alone? And why- You finally noticed the burn mark on his now bald head. - are you like this? Doesn’t the empire takes care of its soldiers? Nor your squad? The bad batch, right? That’s what you called yourselves?”
His face closes again. “You have nothing to do with that. I’m-”
“By yourself?” You pause for a moment. “Alright, I get it. You’ve probably been through a lot. We all have. Not sure why you’re like this but it doesn’t matter right now. I just wonder… Don’t you want to get out of all of this?”
Cross pauses for a moment. It seems like he's considering the possibility. “I… I can’t.”
“But…” You then think. You remind yourself of how protective he was that one time you were saved by them. Maybe this instinct was still there, you had to try. You saw a pointed rock close to where you were standing and decided that you would accidentally cut yourself. “Ouch!”
“What’s up?”
“Oh! Nothing! Just might have cut myself here.” You show your hand now with a bit bigger than you expected cut and some blood.
He almost laughs at it. “What a little clumsy one you are, eh?”
His mocking at you, that’s something, right? “Yeah, I guess….”
“Well, let’s go?” He points to the door.
“Go where?”
“Don’t you wanna take care of that, sweetheart?”
“Right, medical bay then?”
“Obviously.” Perfect. He would be right where you needed him to be.
The both of you enter the facility and walk directly to the medical bay. The empire base is pretty much a bland dark and boring military base with some troopers walking around, some commanders (you think) yelling at the soldiers and some droids doing whatever they have to do. You knew only that they were “r - unities” but droids weren’t exactly your area of expertise. However you do notice that the troopers walking around still wear the same clone armor from back the war. And you feel guilty. Because as much as you’d like you won’t be able to help them all. They’ll stay there with their chips on being controlled by the empire…. By the force, that was a hole guilty trip you knew you shouldn’t take. It wasn’t your fault. No, no. They did this. Palpatine and his men were the monsters. Not you. And certainly not these poor clones. One day, yes, one day maybe you could come back and save them?
“Hmmm…. You wanna me to do this?” Cross says. You were so distracted in your thoughts you don’t even realized you were already in the medical bay.
“Oh. You don’t have to.”
“It's fine. I’m used to do this anyway.”
“Ok. Be my guest then?”
“Wow, you’re so funny.” He jokes.
“Whatever. Just do your thing.”
“Give me your hand.”
You give him your hand and he takes it. And to your surprise he’s very gentle while taking care of your wound. He applies some alcohol pads to clean the wound. And as he presses the wound to stop the bleeding you reach for your gun and keep looking at his face. His very concentrated. It’s almost like the rest of the galaxy doesn’t matter. He’s only there at the moment focused on helping you. And you’re trying to plan how you’re gonna knock him out to take his chip off.
“Now I’m gonna get some stuff to make a bandage for ya, ok?” He says and turns his back. Now is you chance. You turn your blaster to stun only and shoots. He falls.
“I’m sorry. But there’s no other way.” You whisper as if he’s actually listening.
It takes some effort (seriously, Crosshair's heavier than he looks) but you manage to put him on one these surgical stretchers. You also have to learn super quick how to use the pad control to see where the chip’s in and take it off. But it’s done. And you wait and wait… For what it seemed like hours though it was only like 15 minutes.
And he wakes up very confused.
#swwriting#tbbwriting#the bad batch#tbb spoilers#the bad bad spoilers#the bad batch fanfiction#crosshair#crosshair x reader#ct 9904#crosshair x y/n#crosshair x oc#female reader#gn!reader#clone wars#star wars#clone troopers#writers on tumblr
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My @malexsanta Secret Santa gift for @gra-sonas 🎁🎄
I was thrilled to give you a Malex gift this year. You're one of my absolute favorites and such a dear friend. You wanted all the holiday cheer: Christmas ornaments, cookie recipe, market, and FLUFF! I hope this domestic fic truly delivers, brings joy to your holiday season, and fills your heart with warmth during the hiatus. I love you, hun! Xoxo. ❤️️💚
(PS: there's a little surprise in this fic, just for you, inspired by you)
***
Christmas Cookies & Holiday Hearts
"You know, this will be our first Christmas together. Officially."
As Michael says the words, Alex glances over at him, and his heart skips a beat. How is it that his alien still manages to take his breath away after so much time?
Alex smiles and gradually runs his fingertips up and down Michael's strong arm, feeling the smooth skin there. "You're right, even though I know you've tried to get me under a mistletoe for years."
"I mean, yeah...." Michael beams. His tan shoulders shrug as he kisses Alex's chest softly, "You aren't wrong, babe. Who could deny those luscious lips?"
Michael's fingers slowly trail up Alex's chest, which currently has imprints of his lover's glowing handprints left lovingly due to their intimacy with each other.
When he sees them, Alex knows with certainty that their love can move mountains and is capable of expanding through galaxies.
As Alex feels the calluses of Michael's hands on his body and now his lips, he closes his eyes to embrace the effect it manages to bring. It's as if a spark of electricity courses through his veins and ignites his soul. That's the only way he can explain it.
Nothing ever compares to this—what they have together in these silent moments. Alex will always cherish this peace with his loved one.
After a moment of soft loving caresses, Michael's smile disappears. Alex knows he's traveling deeper into that intelligent mind of his, the way he always seems to do these days. "But here's the thing, I want it to be special, meaningful. Christmases were never something to be excited about for me, you know? Just another shitty day."
Alex holds his breath but nods. Unfortunately, he knows precisely what Michael means. Though different, the events of their past, parallel each other in many forms worth forgetting. Alex's upbringing was painful in its way. Still, Alex wishes Michael, his sweet, brilliant alien, could have been spared the misery.
All Michael Guerin has ever wanted was a home, to feel like he belongs on this planet, and Alex wants to spend the rest of his life giving him precisely that.
"So, you've never done anything memorable during the holiday season? Not once?"
Michael raises an eyebrow as if to announce come on, but then he suddenly laughs as a memory resurfaces, "Well...there was that one time Sanders and I attempted to bake Christmas cookies for his customers."
Alex smirks as he imagines how that scene played out. A younger Michael Guerin, who was in-and-out of the foster system, and the older man with one good eye, baking in a small trailer. "And uh, how did that turn out?" Even though he can take a wild guess.
Michael shakes his head as his golden curls bounce and sway. He holds up his arm, "Badly, I have a battle scar from the process."
There is a slight white mark on the inside of Michael's arm, which looks a bit like a four-leaf clover. Alex has always wondered about it. "Damn, and here I thought that was a lucky birthmark."
"Darlin', the only good luck charm in my life is you. Never forget that." Alex feels his heart flutter in his chest at Michael's words, and Michael gently kisses Alex's forehead. But before Alex can return the sentiment, his love continues, "But yeah, Sanders' oven was old as hell at the time, and I guess no one taught me not to stick my whole damn arm right on the rack. Sanders felt awful about it. Poor guy."
"Were the cookies at least good?"
There's a sparkle in Michael's eyes as he says, "You know what? They were. I need to find that damn recipe—it has to be somewhere. Then maybe I can take the old man one, even though you are the better baker." His fingers lace together with Alex's, and Alex gives him a loving squeeze.
"You're right, I am," Alex smirks as he wiggles his eyebrows. "But I would be happy to help you. Sanders would seriously love that!"
Alex looks down at their hands still together. He is so happy that Michael now spends so much time with Walt. It is not a boss-employee type of relationship, but more of a familial one. After everything they had both been through, this progression felt natural. And if he's honest, Alex loves seeing Michael finally opening up to others, the way he does with Alex.
Michael nods and grins, "Done." His caramel eyes gaze at Alex, and he turns over to his side. "But I want new memories, too. Truthfully, besides the cookie disaster, I've never had anyone to share the holidays with."
Again, Alex knows all too deeply what he means, "I know the feeling, my love. I've always admired Christmas from a distance, and it seemed...well, always on the outside looking in." He squeezes Michael's hand tightly through the sheets once more, "I'm thankful to have you by my side. We're both on this journey together."
"Baby, I can't think of anyone else I'd rather share the memories with." Michael brings the back of Alex's hand to his lips, "Always and forever."
****
The next day, Alex and Michael decide to go Christmas shopping for their friends, who were more like their found family at this point.
Roswell had turned festive overnight, and it warms Alex's heart as if he were sitting by the crackling embers.
Truthfully, he loves the magic that comes with Christmas: The twinkling lights aglow; the cheerful, upbeat, and often, repetitive music; the smiling faces of those who don't wait till the last minute to shop; the smell of cinnamon sugar baked goods; and the falling snow—when they were lucky enough to get some.
For the first time, Roswell has even set up a Christmas Market like the ones you'd see in Europe. Alex's desert town has turned into a quaint storybook village.
Somebody has strung up multicolored lights between the small buildings, with brightly colored booths, side-by-side. There are reindeer attached to strings high up in the air, and a magnificent tall Christmas tree is sparkling within the town square. Above the tree is a halo of orange lights, symbolizing their golden desert sun.
It brightens both their spirits to witness the magic created. As Alex and Michael walk around, they hear the soft holiday music surrounding them, which only rekindles their melody passion.
They travel to each booth as they look for treasures to buy for their loved ones. Alex also keeps his eyes open for something unique he can get his Michael, but nothing quite captures his glance.
"Look at this!" Michael calls in the distance. He's standing in front of a lovely booth with peppermint designs on the awning and dangling glimmering white lights.
Alex sees what Michael is holding—it's a beautiful guitar ornament. Painted on the guitar are swirls of green, blue, and black, sparkled with stars symbolizing the night sky.
"Wow..." he says in response. "It's breathtaking."
Michael winks and bumps his shoulder lightly into Alex's, "Pretty cosmic, eh?"
"I'll say," Alex agrees as his grin widens.
"It was clearly made for us," Michael acknowledges as he wraps a strong arm around Alex's waist, "I think it would be the perfect ornament for our first tree together."
Alex kisses Michael softly on the lips, "I couldn't agree more, my love."
****
"So, you have no idea what you're getting him?"
Michael looks over at Isobel feeling exhausted, not at all how he felt when shopping with Alex, "Obviously not, that's why we're here, Iz."
"Michael, Christmas is less than one week away, and we're sitting in some random store, shopping for the love of your life, and you don't have a clue about a special gift for him?"
"Yup, that sounds about right."
Isobel shakes her lengthy blond hair back-and-forth. "Have I taught you nothing over the years?"
Michael groans, "Remind me again why I asked you to come with me?"
His alien sis just shrugs, "Because I'm brilliant, and it's obvious you need me. I would even add the word 'desperately.'"
"No...I don't recall that being the reason," Michael teases as he slings his arm lovingly over her shoulders. "You just love this stuff."
"You're right, I do. It's the best holiday these humans celebrate!" They both laugh, but Isobel kisses his cheek, "Listen, deep down somewhere underneath that dirty white tee of yours, you've gotta have an inkling of what you want to get him."
Well, if he had a clue, he would know it, wouldn't he?
But then Michael freezes as he sees something across the store, "Um, wow...that was fast, but you're right, I do."
Isobel pops a hip out, "Told you so."
"Yeah, the only problem is I'm not sure how he'll react to it."
Isobel smiles genuinely, "You know your man; you always have. Go with your instinct, Michael. I mean, word around this town is that they call you a genius or something." She gives him a look as she ruffles up his curls. "But pull away from that mind for once and go with that heart of yours. I, for one, know it's a pretty damn good one."
Michael snickers but truthfully feels loved, "You could write a self-help book, you know that?"
She winks and bites her red-stained lip, "Who says I haven't already?"
"Give your brother a signed copy. He'll appreciate it."
"As if," Isobel rolls her eyes, "You know Max wouldn't read it. That poor miserable fool who I love dearly." She pauses but adds, "So, Mr. Guerin, what'll it be? You going to listen to your heart?"
Michael narrows his eyes at the prize. Already knowing the answer to her question, he decides to let his heart follow the lead.
****
"A little to the left, babe!" Michael calls out to Alex as they attempt to fit the oversized tree through the cabin door. "Darlin', my left."
They spent the evening looking for the perfect tree, as it was their official first Christmas together. However, they ended up going with a taller sparse, and lopsided pine because, truthfully, life wasn't perfect, and neither were they.
Life is what you make it, and Michael is confident they can make this tree as bright as his heart feels when he's around Alex.
"There, perfect spot by the window," Alex smiles beautifully, pulling Michael back into the present moment as he nods in agreement.
"I should've tried harder not to get it through the door, though. Those muscles of yours are worth staring at a bit longer."
"Well, hold that thought, Guerin, because I'm hungry for food at the moment," Alex replies as he wraps his arms around Michael. "I'm thinking of soup; it's chilly tonight. Maybe it'll even snow."
Michael runs his fingers on Alex's thick biceps, feeling hungry for something else, "I doubt it. The forecast didn't show it. And knowing our little city, we'll probably end up having a heatwave tomorrow."
"Hey now," Alex remarks, looking deeply into Michael's eyes, "you never can know future outcomes."
Michael smiles mischievously, "I dunno...I think your future looks pretty damn bright tonight, babe."
"Is that a promise?" Alex asks, clearly flirting back.
"Always, darlin'.'"
They lean in to share a long lingering kiss, but before it turns too heated, Michael's belly moans in betrayal. Alex pulls back as he chuckles, "Raincheck for later, okay? I'm going to start dinner. Can you set up the tree so we can decorate afterward?"
Michael glares down at his stomach for the interruption but nods, "Absolutely." He moves his fingers, "I do know how to use these hands."
Alex grins in that sexy way of his as he walks into the kitchen, "Don't I know it."
Michael loves this. He loves that he decided to take the leap of faith and move in with Alex. This cabin has become their oasis, his true home. And here with Alex, he feels like he finally has a place here on earth.
Everything they had been through, even the pain, was worth it to get to this moment. Michael can't help but feel tears form in his eyes as he feels overwhelmed in gratitude.
While Alex moves around in the kitchen, Michael cheats a bit to get the tree set up. His powers hover the pine in the air as Michael uses his hands to set up the tree stand. As he moves the small box of ornaments and lights over from the closet, Michael smiles as he hears Alex humming a new song as he cooks.
Michael wants to live here in this domestic bliss forever.
Alex brings out his home-cooked meal, and damn, Michael thinks as he eats, his man knows how to cook. After they eat the delicious soup, Michael scrubs the plates as Alex makes them each a cup of hot cocoa with marshmallows, just the way Michael likes it. When the kitchen is clean, they sip on the chocolatey warmth as they string lights and decorate their tree.
"Here's our new one," Alex says as he holds their new cosmic ornament in his hand.
"That's a special one that needs to go right in front," Michael replies, as he hangs it up, hand-in-hand with Alex. "There."
Alex leans over and kisses his cheek, which warms Michael's heart. "It's perfect."
"You're perfect," Michael states as he leans his head onto Alex's shoulder. Alex slides his arm around his waist. Their movements are continuously in sync, and they are always somehow touching.
As Alex's fingers softly graze over the skin on his hip, Michael knows what kind of touch he desires right this moment, "Now, how about we curl up by the fire, and I show you just how talented my hands can be?"
"Yes, I could use the reminder," Alex responds with a slow grin.
They quickly light the fire, then Alex gives Michael the look as he pulls him towards the couch.
Being so helplessly caught up in each other, they miss the first few snowflakes that fall in Roswell.
****
It's cold out, but worth the trip. Alex gives the nod towards Michael, who taps gently on Sanders' trailer door.
Michael shifts uncomfortably, but Alex is proud of him for facing the emotions he knows his love feels inside.
After Sanders admitted to trying to adopt Michael, it indeed did something to Michael's heart. He opened up more, and Alex knew that Michael slowly realized he was always wanted and truly loved where it counted. It did something to Sanders too. Alex could almost see the young boy Walt coming through when they spoke now. There was a twinkle in his eye, and he would share memories with a smile instead of sadness.
They felt like a family.
That's why they had talked before coming to the old man's house with the cookies. There is something big that Michael wants to do, but Alex knows he's scared.
Alex is by his side the entire time.
Sanders opens the door with a smile, "Oh, Michael! Alex! Welcome! I wasn't expecting you." He shakes his shirt with a look of embarrassment.
"We wanted to surprise you!" Alex says with a grin. He shakes the old man's hand.
Sanders pats the back of his hand lightly, "I'm glad you did. Please, come in, you two. It's actually cold out."
Michael takes a big breath and follows Sanders inside.
When inside, Michael hands him the cookies, "Merry early Christmas."
"Oh! These look delicious," Sanders says admiringly.
"I'm not sure if you remember, but these are the exact cookies we made that one Christmas together."
Sanders looks up at Michael with surprise, "Truly? The... 'burn on the arm' year?"
Michael nods with a jokingly wince, "The very one."
Sanders blows out hard, "Well, it always pained me that you got burned on that damn old oven of mine, but I must say, those cookies were superb, weren't they?"
"They were, burned and all."
"And you baked these all by yourself? Uh, should I be scared?" Sanders teases with a nudge.
"Nah, I had some guidance," Michael mentions as he casually puts his arm around Alex.
Alex shrugs, "I barely helped at all. Michael here did an excellent job. I tried one, so I can promise you that you'll survive." He winks at Michael.
"Oh, phew! That's a relief," Sanders chuckles. "Michael, where did you find the recipe?"
"In the garage, it was in a wooden box on one of your shelves. The one that's slightly tilting. I remembered you putting it in there." Michael taps his head, "I'm pretty observant if you haven't already noticed."
Sanders sighs with a lopsided grin, "You get it from me, I think." He pops one in his mouth. "Wow, absolutely delicious." After he chews, he looks towards Michael with an expression of gratitude. "Well, thank you, son, this means a lot to me."
Alex knows what the word son does to Michael, its effect on him, and Michael shifts awkwardly. He looks over to Alex for reassurance, and Alex holds his hand, comforting him the best way he knows how.
His strength, after all, is linked to Michael's. They go together in every way that matters.
"That's not the only thing I brought for you," Michael whispers. He reaches into his back pocket and hands Sanders the envelope.
"Oh, a Christmas card?"
"Um, well, not exactly," Michael replies as he squeezes Alex's hand tighter.
Sanders puts on his reading glasses and switches the lights on brighter in the trailer. He opens the envelope and starts to read. The small smile on his face begins to fall, and he becomes nonplussed.
Alex acknowledges that Michael gets uncomfortable, maybe even nervous, but Alex knows that Sanders is touched.
Finally, after what feels like an eternity, Sanders looks up, and his eyes are full of tears. His voice comes out raspy and hoarse as he asks, "You sure? You want that?"
"More than anything," Michael responds, his voice also full of emotion. "If you'll have me, of course."
"It would be an honor, son." Sanders sets the adoption papers onto his small wooden table and pulls Michael tightly in his arms. "You've always felt like mine, anyway."
"I think my mom would be happy about this," Michael cries, letting the tears fall down his face. It's the most beautiful sight to witness, and Alex can't help but let go, too.
Sanders nods and closes his eye as he holds his son, "You know, my boy, I think she would."
****
A few days before Christmas, Alex and Michael decide to throw a little festive party at the cabin. They spent the morning stringing up lights outside, getting the drink station ready, and preparing their friend's gifts around the tree.
It was perfect.
Isobel is the first to arrive, of course, and she brings so many gifts, she can hardly get through the door, "Hello? A little help here, Michael?"
"I'm coming. I'm coming!"
Alex finishes up in the kitchen, and even though the feast smells delicious, Michael's man looks good enough to eat.
Soon after Isobel has her martini in hand, the others follow suit.
Liz and Kyle come together, hand-in-hand, and Michael prays it won't be awkward with Max. Gregory shows up, and Isobel immediately wraps her arms around him. Michael and Alex share a knowing smile, especially when she holds a mistletoe above his head. Then Maria and Mimi head inside with a few bottles of wine. With holes in the top, Rosa brings a large box inside, making Michael wonder what it is, but Arturo follows with a banana cream pie from the diner, and the rest is history. Sanders joins, of course, and Michael can't help but hug him longer than the rest. And finally, his boy Max.
Luckily everyone gets along perfectly. The group has been through so much together that they make a toast for a fresh new beginning.
Everyone at the party finally knows about the aliens being, well, aliens, and swore to protect them. The secret has bonded and united them in ways Michael never expected.
The group mingles as they sip their drinks, and Michael looks around the room at his friends and family, feeling lucky. He made a life for himself in Roswell, and as he looks towards the love of his existence, Michael knows it's time.
He takes a moment to just stare at Alex, and suddenly he's beyond grateful he listened to his heart.
Alex is the one for him. Michael now understands that this human was his reason for coming to this planet—they were written in the stars long ago, destined to be together.
This is why Michael stands up bravely, walks towards Alex, and gets down on one knee.
Michael opens the little black box he got in the store with Isobel and reveals a silvery gray tantalum band, one he knows will fit Alex perfectly.
Isobel hushes everyone down and clasps her hands together as she sends Michael a wink from across the room. Max also gives Michael an encouraging nod, which provides him with the strength he needs at that moment.
Michael stares up at the man he adores, and Alex's perfect mouth falls open. Taking his love's hand, Michael finally finds his voice, "Alex Manes, you are my whole world. When we were teens, you looked at me in music class and sparked something deep inside me; something I didn't quite understand, but it was there with me all along. And when we kissed for the first time, you woke me up to the life I had always dreamed of having. You are that dream, Alex. You are my family, and you've given me a place to call home. I have loved you from the beginning, and I'll love you to the very end." Michael takes a deep breath, "I would be the happiest alien on earth if you would yes. So please, darlin', will you marry me?"
Alex gleams as tears fill those beautiful eyes, "We truly are linked...."
"What...what do you mean?" Michael whispers, but Alex immediately joins him on the floor, kneeling in front of him.
Alex pulls out an emerald velvet box and opens it. Inside is an engraved bronze band that matches the color of Michael's eyes. He holds his breath as the rest of the world fades away. "I mean, you beat me to it even though I've had this ring since we officially got together." Alex places his hand to Michael's face and strokes his cheek gently. "I was waiting for our first Christmas together because I wanted to give us both a happy memory to erase all the bad ones. The plan was going to ask Walt for his approval, which he wholeheartedly gave." They both look at Sanders, who nods with a loving grin. "And then I'd get down on one knee in front of all our loved ones and ask if you'd continue to create this life together with me, a true home." Then Alex holds Michael's hand again, "All I can say is that I love you more than I could ever begin to put into words, and I'm asking you if you'd do me the honor in marrying me?"
Michael doesn't realize he's crying until he feels the drops land on his outstretched hand. "Oh my God, Alex...."
"Is that a yes?"
Michael laughs softly as he strokes the back of Alex's hand gently, "I believe I asked you first, darlin'."
Alex nods with a breathtaking smile, tears flickering those beautiful dark eyes, "Of course I will. A hundred times, yes!" He leans in closer to Michael, "And you?"
"That would be a hell yes, baby!" He hears a whoop from one of his friends in the background, but then Michael gets serious. "It's always been a yes for me." Michael cups Alex's face, "You're my human, Alex Manes."
"That's Alex Sanders if you don't mind."
Michael looks over at his adoptive father again, who's now wiping his eyes and positively glowing. Michael kisses Alex's lips, "I don't mind a bit."
As they finish their first engaged kiss, their friends cheer, cry, and hug them both tightly, then Isobel giggles, "Is now a good time to give you two our gift?"
"Go for it, Scooby Squad," Michael exclaims as he takes Alex's hand in his own, never wanting to let go.
Isobel looks to the room they had closed, "Okay, Rosa, bring her out!"
Michael and Alex exchange a look. Bring who out?
And before Michael can overthink it, Rosa comes out holding a beagle puppy. "It's a rescue. The shelter I volunteer at found her abandoned on the side of the road."
"We thought it would be perfect for you two, plus, remember that dinner we had a couple of weeks ago?" Isobel says as she looks towards Alex. "You practically said you were going to start looking for one. I remember you saying, 'the cabin is much too quiet, I think we need to get a dog.'"
Alex laughs and takes the small puppy into his arms, "I don't recall those were my exact words, but it doesn't matter; she's perfect."
"Lost without a family," Michael says, petting the puppy's long ears, "sounds like the two of us all right."
"You mean a found family!" Liz calls out. "Just like all of us."
Alex looks at Michael and nods. Michael smiles back, "We love her. Thank you, everyone!"
"I knew this pup would be a part of your future," Mimi exclaims, and Michael watches Alex wink at her. "She's a gentle soul. I'm happy she'll have you two."
"Best dog daddies ever," Maria smiles happily. Everyone in the room has what seems to be permanent heart-eyes. "We will miss her, though! She's been staying with us."
"Well, you know you all are welcome here anytime!" Alex says.
"What will you name her?" Gregory asks as Isobel leans back into his arms.
"How about Kyletta?" Michael laughs as he looks towards Kyle. "Kyletta Barklenti."
"Real funny, alien boy," Kyle responds, as he rolls his eyes looking reasonably amused. He looks over at the food, "How about Bagel? You seemed to be pretty obsessed with those today, Guerin. I mean, how many did you actually eat?"
"I was hungry!" Michael retorts, "You didn't bring nearly enough to share."
"Okay, okay," Alex intervenes as he shakes his head. Michael enjoys ruffling Kyle's feathers, but Michael doesn't mind the guy beneath his human annoyances. He's a good friend to Alex, making him a good man in Michael's book.
"So, what are you going to name her then?" Max asks from across the room.
"Yeah, I mean, you don't actually have to name her after a food," Kyle teases.
"No," Michael grins, "you know what, Doc? I like it. Bagel. It has that—"
"Bagel! Yes, call her Bagel. I love it!" Isobel interrupts.
"Not again..." Michael groans quietly. Isobel + anything bagel = interruptions, which is a no-go, especially when it comes to Alex.
After they finalize the name, everyone gushes over the puppy and their rings. They eat, share stories, and finish opening gifts.
The day is perfect in every way. Even on the Hallmark channel, they don't make them better than this.
Michael holds Bagel in his arm and takes a break from the crowd. He sits on the couch in the living room, and the puppy folds up into his lap, falling asleep as Michael rubs her ears.
After a moment or two, someone strokes his shoulder lightly, and he looks up to see his fiancé's beautiful face. Michael feels immensely grateful, not for the first time this holiday season.
Alex scoots in close and whispers in Michael's ear, "So, my love, would you say this Christmas is worth remembering?"
Michael pulls Alex in his arms, "Yes, darlin'. I've never been happier in my life." He takes Alex's hand with the ring and kisses it. "Our family is already growing."
"It sure is," Alex says, putting his forehead against Michael's as he strokes Bagel's soft fur.
They sit there for a while, just the three of them, with the comforting hum of loved ones surrounding them.
"Wow...Look, Michael." Michael looks out the window to see it snowing. The snowflakes fall to the ground in a swirling dance. It reminds Michael of their life together, new and old memories, coming together in a story of love.
Michael feels complete peace in his heart as Alex says, "Merry Christmas, my love."
It was merry, and their future, well, Michael knows it will be very bright as long as they always have each other.
"I love you," Michael answers.
Alex's reply is the kiss they share and would continue sharing for the rest of their days.
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Not sure if you already talked about this. (I’m pretty sure you have) but someone seemed to notice that when the trio get into fights, Hermione’s always in the right. Even when she’s supposed to be wrong she always seems to be half right. That kind of bothers me. Especially since it’s evident in the whole Scabbers situation.
I have indeed, on Quora, so let’s move yet another answer of mine to Tumblr!
Hermione is seldom wrong in the Harry Potter books. Sometimes she makes mistakes but those mistakes are either completely swept under the rug or downright ignored.
It’s partly due to lazy writing and partly due to Rowling’s own growing bias in favour of her Author Avatar that was fuelled by Steve Kloves, the primary advocate of the Hermione Granger Is The Perfect Girl Ever line of thinking (an utterly ridiculous line of thinking mind you).
Lizo: Steve, Hermione is a character that you have said is one of your favorites. Has that made her easier to write?
Steve: Yeah, I mean, I like writing all three, but I've always loved writing Hermione. Because, I just, one, she's a tremendous character for a lot of reasons for a writer, which also is she can carry exposition in a wonderful way because you just assume she read it in a book. If I need to tell the audience something...
JKR: Absolutely right, I find that all the time in the book, if you need to tell your readers something just put it in her. There are only two characters that you can put it convincingly into their dialogue. One is Hermione, the other is Dumbledore. In both cases you accept, it's plausible that they have, well Dumbledore knows pretty much everything anyway, but that Hermione has read it somewhere. So, she's handy.
Now this, right here, is the exact core of the problem.
Rowling herself admits it: if she wants the readers to have information, she puts Hermione in the scene. Hermione is our primary means of exposition because, like *grits teeth* Sssssteve puts it, it’s easy to assume that she’s read about it somewhere and it makes sense.
That’s all well and good but at first, if you notice, Ron also gave us exposition about the wizarding world, mostly about its culture. He was able to recall the exact year of the Wizarding Confederation that outlawed dragon breeding in Philosopher’s Stone! He explained what were respectively a “Mudblood”, a “Squib”, and Parseltongue, Hermione doing a little exposition about the history of that last one! He was also able to identify Sirius, after being dragged into the Whomping Willow, as an Animagi!
But then Goblet of Fire happens and you can notice the first change that will exponentially grow through the books: instead of Ron, pureblood Ron, born-before-the-end-of-the-war Ron, lived-through-the-aftermath-of-the-war Ron, identifying the Dark Mark, it’s instead Hermione, muggleborn Hermione, lived-as-a-Muggle-for-most-of-her-life Hermione, has-no-idea-about-the-emotional-impact-of-the-Mark Hermione who looks terrified as the Dark Mark shoots into the sky!
And it only will get worse, by the end of the series, Hermione pretty much knows about everything the plot needs her to know, instead of having to work with things she knows but can’t always apply to the situation:
Suddenly has a deep knowledge of Magical Law (in the will of Dumbledore’s chapter, while we had Rufus Scrimgeour who could have provided it to us, or to a lesser extent, Ron could have explained how a wizarding will basically worked)
Is suddenly an expert at finding edible plants and mushrooms. Apparently books are always the goddamn answer in JKR’s world, you can literally learn anything from them
She can decipher all the Tales of Beedle the Bard (may I remind you that they were written in Runes, okay Hermione may have a few years of Ancient Runes education BUT I once tried to translate a 3k+ story I had written for fun, from French to English, which means I knew what the subtleties and intentions were, I knew which turns of phrase I had to preserve so it would make sense in the end, and it still took me two gruelling weeks to get a satisfying result!)
Has suddenly grown a sense of quick-thinking (escaping Xenophilius’ house, using the jinx to make Harry’s face weird-looking) despite it being the only remaining flaw she had at the time (remember when she turned her back on her enemy while he was still conscious just to compliment Harry, and almost died as a result, even though she had been training in the DA to learn how to fight Death Eaters?) Quick-thinking under pressure can be learned, but it takes time and a lot of work to force your brain to override its instinct - and it’s fine because we’re all human and different. But no suddenly Hermione is the Greatest Strategist Evah™ and those silly boys (who actually were the original quick-thinking ones, and one of them was established as the strategist early on) better be grateful for this literal goddess because she protects them from all harm with her superhuman brain.
Somehow knows about Quidditch stuff - she knows about a Snitch’s “memory-touch”. Why should she give all the answers? Why can’t Ron give us this particular tidbit of information?
And then when we come to something Ron actually knows, the damn narration itself goes “woah a book that Ron has read but Hermione hasn’t??? shocking!! incredible!! Ron is not dumb, somebody call the news channel”. But… is that really so surprising? We’ve never seen Hermione read wizarding fiction or even Muggle fiction. We’ve never seen Hermione with anything other than schoolbooks in her hands. Of course Ron has read books she hasn’t read since she doesn’t seem to read fiction at all!
Sorry, bit of a tangent over here.
There are only two characters that you can put it convincingly into their dialogue.
So, that’s one part of the problem: the fact that Rowling, after making Ron our insight into magical culture and Hermione our provider of knowledge, ended up saying “eh whatever I guess Hermione can tell us everything we gotta know because it’s more convenient for me”. Which is a decision that was not based on Hermione’s character, but simply lazy writing. Long story short, it probably went: “Could Ron explain this bit of trivia? Meh, better make Hermione say it cause she’ll have read it in a book. It’s convenient and I won’t need to bother myself with exploring Ron’s characterisation.”
(And thus completely forgetting that Ron could maybe ask his big brothers via owl and provide us with a good heap of extra advanced knowledge - Bill is supposed to have aced his NEWTs after all.)
The other part of the problem is quite simply that Hermione is more often than not, either painted as a victim by the narrative (which makes more people take her side, classic manipulation tactic), or made to be right anytime it’s about a plot point.
Hermione’s mistakes are never explicitly stated, corrected, or even pointed out as being unethical.
Hermione only gets one mistake expressedly pointed out as being a mistake: her misadventure in Polyjuice Potion. The rest of them? Even her crush on Lockhart can’t be counted as a mistake - people get crushes all the time, based solely on physical appearance, it’s not something awful or terrible (Except when it’s Ron who crushes on someone. Ron crushing on someone is absolutely forbidden, and he must be punished with much ridicule and humiliation if he thinks he can get away with not worshipping Hermione like the goddess she is. The nerve of him, really.).
Throughout the books Hermione eventually morphs into Rowling’s Powerful Angel of Vengeance, that punishes the people who dared to do something she disliked - Rita is silenced but at a very ethically dubious price; Marietta gets scarred for life because she was more loyal to her mother than to a bunch of people her friend insisted she hang out with; Umbridge is led to a very, very alarming fate that is never made clear but some people have ideas and they’re not all very kid-friendly; Ron first is “helped” without knowing it because Hermione can’t be bothered to have faith in his capabilities, then when he fails to dutifully reward her for “helping” him, she causes him bodily harm before actively bullying him for not mind-reading her interest in him; causes even more bodily harm to Ron because that’s how feminism works; etc.
Hermione’s mistakes are always justified through the plot itself (which is lazy writing).
Turning into a cat? Only affects her.
The Firebolt? Scabbers? Well, in the end, it was really sent by Sirius Black and Crookshanks really wasn’t the culprit. Therefore all the feelings that were hurt and all the trust lost are irrelevant because Hermione was right all along.
Trying to free the house-elves? Well, it’s the intent that counts, right? And we’re never told enough about house-elf lore to know whether they’re poor brainwashed victims or powerful Penate-like symbiotes who need to serve a wizard to survive?
Kidnapping Rita Skeeter, trapping her and blackmailing her? Rita may be one foul little beetle, but that’s going a bit far, isn’t it? Harry approves? Oh, well, I guess it’s okay then…? A main character can’t have a dubious morality, right?
Manipulating Harry into forming Dumbledore’s Army and forcing him to relive a traumatic event with the same woman she’s kidnapped and blackmail and that she knows he hates? In the end, it all works out for the best and Harry’s hurt feelings don’t matter since it’s all about the greater good.
Using the centaurs to get rid of Umbridge (which poses the highly distressing question of what did the centaurs do to her?), realizing that the centaurs aren’t nice little horsies that are going to gently obey her every orders like good Disney princess’ companions, my goodness could this be an opportunity for character growth - nevermind, here comes Grawp the Giant Ex Machina, saving her arse and protecting Hermione from all that scary possibility of introspection. Thanks, Grawp Ex Machina.
Trying to dissuade a highly stressed-out and irrational Harry from rescuing Sirius by telling him exactly what he needed not to hear, a.k.a. “you have a saving people-thing” which causes Harry to completely go bonkers and go save his godfather without thinking twice? Well she was right after all, it was a trap! Nevermind how mind-boggingly insenstive and inadept at dealing with someone else’s feelings she was being, she was right! That means it wasn’t Hermione’s mistake!… probably. (Geez, I’m sensing a pattern here…)
Endangering Cormac’s life (Confunding him WHILE HE’S ON HIS BROOM) to promote Ron’s success? Oh but that’s so romantic! (Yeaaaah, how romantic to display exactly how much faith you lack in your crush. Top it off with a broken neck and that’s a picture perfect first date!)
Assaulting Ron with magic and causing him even more scars than he already had? But he was being cold with her first, right? And he totally should have known she was asking him out! It’s not like her invitation was even worse than his attempt to ask her out two years earlier! Plus she’s just a teenage girl expressing her emotions, anyone who tries to find fault in this is a disgusting abusive misogynist pig! Ha!
Getting all jealous that Harry is better than her at Potions, then pretending she’s not jealous by claiming that TEH BOOK IS EVIL, HARRY, and giving him the cold shoulder too? But no, she’s right, look, Harry used Sectumsempra and he almost killed Draco, nevermind that he’s very horrified about it! Hermione was right, like she always is!
Hermione Obliviating her parents, which pulls her from the “ethically dubious” zone into the “wow okay I’m pretty sure that this counts as a violation of basic human rights” zone, makes her one of those quirky wizardfolk who have the privilege to control those simple-minded Muggles because it’s for the greater good? But nooo she’s crying about it so it’s obviously very sad and angsty and it shows her devotion to the cause!
Splinching Ron while fleeing from the Ministry? Eeeh, but he’s fine, they’ve got Dittany, he’s good as new!… blood loss? Anaemia? What’s that?
Hermione was wrong about the Deathly Hallows not existing? Um, um, that doesn’t matter, LOOK DOBBY IS DEAD AND HARRY IS BACK TO LOOKING FOR THE HORCRUXES!! Therefore Hermione was right, the Hallows weren’t important for their quest, therefore the Hallows might as well not exist, HERMIONE WAS RIGHT NO REALLY I’VE GOT RECEIPTS -
The books never forget to remind Harry and Ron of their own shortcomings and moments of weakness.
Harry’s wrath and recklessness cost Sirius his life. This is the lesson he has to learn from his entitled behaviour in OotP: actions have consequences, and the greater your responsibility, the greater the cost will be.
Ron’s envy and insecurity lead him astray; they’re used to humiliate, ridicule and torture him throughout the books. They’re supposed to teach him that he’s worth something - but how is he supposed to believe that, when nobody ever tells him he’s worth anything? When nobody ever apologizes to him? When his feelings are taken for granted over and over? When his two friends seem to discard him whenever he does one thing wrong?
Hermione is never punished. Hermione is never said to be wrong, never shown to be wrong, never called out on her behaviour. From Prisoner of Azkaban to mid-Deathly Hallows, she stays exactly the same character. She doesn’t grow up. She doesn’t learn. She doesn’t change. She has virtually no character arc.
The only time, THE ONLY TIME IN SEVEN BOOKS, the only time we have something remotely resembling a call-out of Hermione’s horrible behaviour is with this sole quote in HBP:
Harry was left to ponder in silence the depths to which girls would sink to get revenge.
Note how it’s about “girls” and not Hermione in particular, which implies that any girl would do what Hermione does to Ron. Thanks for the generalization, JKR, but I like to believe I’m actually a decent sort of person that doesn’t resort to petty cruelty and exploits my friends’ insecurities whenever I’m angry with them.
Hermione NEVER has to apologize.
Hermione NEVER has to learn from her mistakes because she’s always presented as a victim when she really isn’t.
Hermione NEVER develops into something more - she’s emotionally stuck at fourteen years old. Even less than that when you consider that her reaction to Ron’s return in Deathly Hallows is to trash him with her fists - and she was going to get her wand!! The utter psychopathic b- wanted TO THROW BIRDS AT HIM AGAIN!!! - and this reaction is an appropriate one for a four-years old girl, but certainly not for a supposedly “mature” seventeen-years old.
(Yes, because what separates a child from an adult is the ability to reign in your emotions and not succumb to your impulses. Exactly what Ron did when he left the tent (notice that he had drawn his wand, then he left before he could start hexing Harry), he left to calm himself down. Exactly what Hermione fails to do when Ron returns (she has the impulse to strike him and immediately succumbs to it, which proves to us that The Brightest Witch Of Her Age has all the maturity of a very small child).)
All of that, on top of the awful portrayal in the movies which removes all of Ron’s characteristics to stuff them into Hermione and turns her into some impossible epitome of perfection, eventually contributed to the portrayal of Hermione as the one who is always right and knows everything.
Add to it JKR’s own ridiculous bias (“Ron was quite emotionally immature compared to the other two”, yeah right I don’t see him trying to force freedom onto unwilling creatures or making Harry fly into an irrational rage with mere words but you do you, Jo) and the sexist misconception that “girls are innately more mature than boys”, and you get yourself this apparent behemoth of righteousness that was literally the sole reason why those two silly boys survived everything, and don’t you dare criticize this angel of perfection OR ELSE.
#vivi answers#ask#hermione granger critical#hermione granger#hermione critical#harry potter series#ron weasley#jk rowling#anti jk rowling
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sunsets + sassa? if that works for you!
Thank you for the prompt! Here's a little fluffy Sassa fic with Akari (my Marie)!
Sleepy Sunsets
“Oh man, the conditions were just too perfect today! All that powdered snow,” Sassa grinned as he and Akari waited at the bus stop going back to the city.
“If it wasn’t for the last bus, I bet you’d stick around for the night skiing as well,” Akari replied as she put her hand over her mouth and yawned slightly.
“Heh, sorry about that. Didn’t mean to keep you that long,”
“I didn’t mean that as a bad thing. I had fun too. Just a little more physical activity than I’m use to, so I’m a little tired,”
Sassa let out a small sigh of relief. He always tried to be considerate of others' time and enjoyment, and (especially lately) he really wanted to make sure that Akari was enjoying herself. It would have been terrible if he had dragged her out here for the whole day and ended up being the only one who had fun. While most of the other first-year track and field members found her to be pretty strict and blunt, he quite admired how organized and dedicated she was. Akari always made sure they were prepared for their practice matches and was a great second pair of eyes when the coach wasn’t around. He just wanted to return the favour for all her hard work.
Once the large blue bus arrived, it opened its doors and the pair made their way onboard.
“Do you want the window seat? We still have a good 45 minutes before we get back to the city if you want to nap,” he asked as he took their bags and placed them in the storage above.
“It’s fine. There’s an article I want to finish writing for the Habataki Watcher,”
“Akari Saikai, ever the hard worker, eh? That’s what makes you the best manager. And a great friend of course,” he could get why Ryota was interested in her.
With a little bit of maneuvering, he then slipped into his seat by the window. A bit of a tight squeeze in all honesty. Buses just weren’t meant for guys his height.
Once Akari sat down and took out her pen and notebook, Sassa decided to pull out his phone, figuring that he would read a few articles on running form and kinesiology. Though it wasn’t more than twenty minutes that he felt himself getting a little motion sick from looking at the screen and the bus hitting a few tight turns.
He was glad that he did for when he looked out the window, it was then he saw the most spectacular view.
The bus had reached a point in on the mountain that overlooked all Habataki City, stretching all the way out the sea, which now reflected a beautiful mix of orange, pink, and purple on its surface. The sun was just barely above the horizon.
“Wow, beautiful…” the brunette exclaimed. “Saikai, check out the sunset,”
“Mm…”
Sassa turned his head to see that the teen girl had nodded off. Her eyes fluttered as her head was hunched forward.
“Are you sure you don’t want to switch seats?” At least leaning on the window would cause less strain on her neck.
“It’s fine,” she mumbled, sleepily opening her eyes and started writing in her notebook again. “Gotta finish this article,”
“If you say so, manager,” he responded with a soft smile on his face.
He then heard her chuckle back as a small smile tugged at the corner of her own lips. A very rare occurrence for her considering her usually standoff-ish demeanor. It was then that he noticed how some of the fading light from the sunset managed to highlight her face.
She really was pretty, wasn’t she? Her large, apricot-coloured eyes, her long, dark eyelashes, the way that her hair gently fell onto her shoulders, her soft rosy cheeks…
And even softer, rosier lips…
Sassa felt his face flush as he turned back to the window. He really shouldn’t be thinking about things like that. Considering she was the club’s manager, and well aware of Ryota’s feelings, it was just a bad idea. He was just some dumb jock anyway.
“Everything okay?” he heard Akari ask, sounding a little more awake.
“Ah yeah,” he responded.
“Just… hard to take my eyes off this sunset is all.”
#tokimeki memorial girl’s side#tokimeki memorial girl's side 4th heart#tokimeki memorial fanfiction#fanfiction#sassa nozomu#sassa x marie
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Colorful Camboys, 2.
a/n: hi!! i'm back! i finished up school and got a bit of my writing inspo back, so, i thought i'd write another Colorful Camboy's chapter for you guys <3
hope you're all staying safe! enjoy~
p.s. i haven’t written smut in a HOT minute and lowkey forgot how to write for josuke, but i tried! i’m sorry 😭
p.p.s. i didn’t proof read :) we die like men, fuck it
————
Summary: A Modern AU where your favorite boys are just trying to get off and make money.
You're one of their viewers and happen to catch their attention.
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18+ content ahead!
Josuke - Pink
You’d come to the point where porn was honestly just boring.
It didn’t hurt to want to try something new! Maybe a new genre, a different site? But, all of it was the same old same old. And the disgustingly cheesy, clickbaity titles didn’t do much to turn you on or catch your interest either. You pursed your lips as you scrolled, coming across a camboy website.
You blinked. ‘A camboy website?’
Curiosity had ultimately gotten the best of you as you clicked the link. Almost immediately, tons of live-streams came up, thousands of boys right at your disposal.
‘This is gonna be fun.’
You scrolled through the plethora of streams in search of a boy that appealed to you. For the most part, a good chunk of them were your type. In shape, good looking— there weren’t many bad apples on the tree you were picking from.
Your eyes landed on a certain pompadoured boy by the name ‘ShiningDiamond1999.’ The username definitely raised an eyebrow or two, and the boy sure was good looking, so you simply clicked the stream to see what was up.
He wasn’t popular for no reason. He was cute! It was the oddly ‘adorable, yet super hot’ combo, and girls (and guys alike) were eating that shit up.
You sat back as you watched the boy palm himself through pink boxers.
“Oh? We gotta new person, huh?”
He leaned forward, hand still on his cock as he narrowed his eyes at his monitor. Part of you was embarrassed that he caught you so quickly— he had so many patrons there already! He must’ve been an attentive host.
You liked that.
“A guest, eh? How about you give me a name to call you by, cupcake? You don’t have to make an account for me to take notice of you, yanno.”
You couldn’t help but smile. He seemed sweet; he gave off the aura of someone who’d take care of his partner no matter what, and you had to admit that it was comforting. Not only was he easy on the eyes, he was someone who gave off the impression that he wouldn’t break your heart despite the fact that everything he said was meant for both you and the thousands of other viewers he had right now.
He really must’ve been good.
You splayed your fingers out across the keys, typing out a response. ‘Just call me [username].’
You could see him raise an arched eyebrow. He smiled brightly and leaned back into his chair. “[Username]? I can do that for you, babe.”
Teasingly, he ran his fingers down his torso to the waistband of his boxers. He simply smiled mischievously at the camera and popped the band against his hipbone. “Enough with the chit chat, yeah? I don’t wanna bore our new guest, so let’s get this show on the road, babies!”
Thumbs slipped under the elastic and pushed his underwear down his muscular thighs. His cock sprung out, slapping against his toned stomach and you couldn’t help the groan that escaped your mouth. No wonder he was so loved— he was sculpted by the gods themselves.
His bottom lip wrung itself between his teeth as he gripped his member with a large hand. Up, down, up, down— the motion was hypnotizing as it was erotic, and you could’ve sworn the way he looked at the camera while he did it brought you to the brink of an orgasm alone.
“I hope you’re touching yourself, too, baby girl. I don’t wanna be the only one getting off.”
His hand left his cock to push his boxers the rest of the way down. Without the restrictions the garment brought, he spread his legs wider. You could see everything from the way his balls tensed whenever he teased his head, and the way his asshole clenched around the pink buttplug on the downstroke.
Your eyes widened. ‘Buttplug? He's into that?’
Your eyebrows relaxed and a sly grin took form on your face.
The things you’d give to ruin this boy.
“God, fucking—“, he keened desperately, “I wish you were here right now.”
You subconsciously rubbed your thighs together. You were here to get off, but his performance was so goddamn captivating that you didn’t want to take your eyes off of him for even a second. So, you did what you could to strip yourself of your shorts and panties while still watching, reaching over to grab your vibrator.
“You’d be taking care of me right? Stroking my cock till the head turns red— shit—“
The soft buzz of the toy filled your room and you gingerly placed it on your clit. You jolted at the sensation. It had been a while since you had a nice session for yourself; you didn’t have much time to draw it out and really make yourself see stars. This was nice. Being able to sit back and watch somebody get off to help you get off wasn’t something you had seen yourself doing, but you really might have to make it a more common occurrence.
“[Username].”
Your eyes snapped open and met his, despite the fact that he couldn’t see you. You switched the vibrator over to your non-dominant hand and let the other reach out to the keyboard to type out a quick “yes?”
“Since it’s your first time here, I’ll let you choose.”
Well, this was interesting.
The man on the other side of the screen reached out of frame for a moment to grab something. When his hand entered view again, he had a hot pink dildo in hand.
“So, love, buttplug or dildo? What’cha in the mood for?”
You narrowed your eyes at the screen best you could in the midst of your pleasure-filled haze and typed out your answer.
‘Dildo.’
You didn’t miss the inkling of a grin that lied on his lips. The ravenette leaned back in the chair and pulled out the plug, replacing it with the pink toy.
“Hah~, fuck. Good choice, babe—!”
His eyes rolled backwards into his skull as he sank the silicon toy further into himself. You whimpered and leaned back further into your seat, bumping up the intensity of the toy. This was gonna be a good session, if you said so yourself. You’d have to bookmark this page for later.
“Fuck, I bet you look so good right now. All flushed and panting and wanting to cum, right?”
Your breathing sped up, chest heaving as your hips canted into your hand. “God, yes please—“
Almost as if he heard your pleas, he continued right after you finished speaking. “Then lets cum together. S-Shit, cum with me baby, I’ll count.”
As if on instinct, you grown the vibrator into you, putting it on its highest setting. It was enough to make you jump out of your skin. You had goosebumps everywhere, cold sweat was running down your forehead, and your thighs were shaking like mad. How could a stranger have so much power over you?
“Five.”
You forced your eyes open to look at your screen, eyes locked on the streamer and his hand furiously jerking himself off. You watched as his adam’s apple bobbed in his throat.
“Four.”
Your vision began to blur. You were so close yet so far from your orgasm, and in all honesty, you could’ve came right now. But, finishing with this stranger seemed a lot more appealing than doing it on your own.
“Ah, fuck— three—“
The veins in his arms bulged and he reached around to grip the base of the dildo. He threw his head back as he fucked himself it, his jaw falling slack and hanging open.
“Two—!”
At this point, both of you were chasing your releases like animals. There was something so primal about this— backs arched and hips spasming as you both selfishly chased euphoria. You gripped the side of your desk chair bruisingly, waiting for him to finish counting and—
“One— fuck, one, I’m cumming—!”
Your moan mixed with his as it came out of your laptop speaker. He whined, you yelled, and you both were riding your orgasms like a wave. You hadn’t cum that hard in a while. It was the kind of finish that makes you see stars and make your scalp tingle, and when you came down, you saw the camboy covered in his own release and strands of his hair out of place.
He looked so out of it. He was panting heavily with red airbrushed over his chest and cheeks, and pieces of his once perfect hairstyle stuck to his forehead. He was definitely not present in that moment in time, still on Cloud 9, but you didn’t mind watching as his vision came back into focus and his breathing slowed.
Slowly, he reached down to pull the toy out of his ass and place it some place out of frame. He laughed airily, his large hand running down the expanse of his throat momentarily before speaking.
“Alright, that was really fun. I gotta go clean up now, but I’ll be back to tomorrow, same time!”
You followed his hand as it moved to his mouse to end the stream.
”Oh, and I hope to see you again tomorrow, too, [Username]. I hope you had fun, love.”
This user is now offline.
#not sfw#jojo’s bizarre adventure#jjba#writing#jojo josuke#josuke4#josuke higashikata#diamond is unbreakable
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March 1, 2021: The Hobbit (Review)
Is “quaint” a good word here?
Maybe its the beautiful backgrounds, maybe it’s the stylized designs that make me think of Christmas specials, maybe it’s the faithful take on a classic story that I loved as a kid, but...I dunno. Quaint’s the first thing that comes to mind here for me, for whatever reason.
All I know is that I did enjoy this movie well-enough...even if it’s not my favorite. Don’t get me wrong, this is still a great story, and I do love the original Tolkien tale very much...but I don’t know if I can say this was my favorite adaptation or not.
Now, it got some things right that the Jackson movies didn’t, at last as far as I’m concerned. Thorin’s pretty good in this film, Gollum is great (as always), and it accurately sums up the story in a single movie without too much omitted (I do miss Beorn, though). But here’s the thing: the things that I think Jackson’s movies did wrong outnumber what this film did right.
You know, the weird addition of Tauriel and Legolas, the added Lake Town plot with fuckin’ Alfrid, the entire Azog thing, the fucking NECROMANCER thing, Rada...well, actually, I like Radagast. He was fun.
And that’s not to say that Jackson’s movies did nothing right. Quite the contrary! I mean, Martin Freeman is a PERFECT Bilbo Baggins, and basically everybody is perfectly cast, to be honest. And that includes what I think is the best part of the films: Smaug, as portrayed by Benedict Cumberbatch. And yeah, that motion capture footage is hilarious, but it pays the fuck OFF, what can I tell ya? I mean...come on.
Smaug in these movies is fucking AMAZING, and I genuinely love him. And...well, you know what, let’s actually get into the Review. Enough navel-gazing here. Here’s the Recap (Parts 1, 2, and 3), if you’d like to read that first! OK, let’s get this done and Reviewed!
Review
Cast and Acting: 7/10
Given that this is an animated film, this is an interesting category to grade. I’ll be doing so based on their vocal performances, and...eh. For a Rankin-Bass movie, the vocal performances are a little standard. However, that doesn’t mean there aren’t some standouts. Orson Bean plays a kind and contemplative Bilbo, and while I don’t know that I like him quite as much as Martin Freeman, I do still like his performance. John Huston is likewise good as Gandalf, although Ian McKellen is...well, Ian McKellen, even in The Hobbit films. And then...there’s Brother Theodore. And, boy oh boy, do I love his Gollum a lot! I think he’s legitimately fantastic as this version of the character, and specifically as this version of the character. Andy Serkis is still the better Gollum, I think, but I do think that Theodore handles Gollum’s last line in this film better than Serkis did. However, I can see Serkis becoming the devious little monster he eventually becomes a lot more.
Also, Hans Conried plays Thorin, and all I could hear was Captain Hook, like, the entire time. There are actually a lot of voice actors from the time period in here, like Don Messick, Paul Frees, and Thurl Ravenscroft, and they’re all fine. There’s also Richard Boone as Smaug, and...he’s OK. Not saying he’s great, but...he’s all right. His deep booming voice does work well for the role, and some of his line deliveries are pretty goddamn solid, but...I dunno, he just doesn’t bring the same gravelly gravitas that I expect of, well, a goddamn dragon, let’s be frank here.
Plot and Writing: 9/10
What can I say? It’s Tolkien! And they’re pretty exact with their adaptation of the original work, as adapted and written by Romeo Muller. And yeah, Muller does a good job...but he also writes this similar to how he wrote all of the other Rank Bass specials. If there’s any problem, it’s that. But even then...I don’t know if I can call that a real problem. Still, I’ll take a point off for it, even though it’s really closer to half a point. If anything, I’m upset that Beorn was completely absent. You coulda worked him in, Romeo!
Directing and Cinematography: 7/10
This is essentially judging the storyboarding, and how shots were positioned in the artistic process. And yeah, it’s...mostly good. Unfortunately, true to form for Rankin-Bass production, it often feels just a little too stiff in places. Makes sense since Arthur Rankin Jr. and Jules Bass are the directors. Not as bad as some of their other productions, but still definitely a notable quality of the film. So, points off for that, but the rest of it is honestly fine, especially for animation of the era. What came out from Disney that year?
Oh, damn, the Rescuers? Yeah...shit, yeah, that looked WAY better, and that wasn’t even one of Disney’s best looking film up to that point. Although, different budgets should probably be taken into account. OK, moving on.
Production and Art Design: 8/10
I like the backgrounds in this film a LOT, lemme tell you. They were done by Minoru Nishida, who’s done a hell of a lot of animation stuff, but was also the art director for Kill Bill Vol 1! Neat! But yeah, the backgrounds are absolutely gorgeous here. How about the rest of the art design? Characters were designed by Lester Abrams, then redesigned a bit by the Topcraft guys (specifically Tsuguyuki Kubo), giving it the very stereotypical Rankin-Bass style that the movie is known for. And does it work? I mean...kinda. The good news is that the different races of Middle Earth are pretty goddamn distinguishable from each other, and creatively designed at that. The bad news...sorry, I never did get used to Smaug, I genuinely don’t like his design in this. Like...why the dog head? By all accounts, Smaug was a stereotypical wyrm-style dragon, with the reptilian features and I. I just...I don’t get it. Sorry, but Jackson’s Smaug wins here, hands down. But that said...I do like Gollum. It’s different, yeah, but I think his design works pretty well. After all, according to Tolkien, we’re not really supposed to know what Gollum is. And I think it works pretty goddamn well!
Music and Editing: 7/10
Glenn Yarbrough. I love ya. I SWEAR, I do actually like you and your main contribution to this movie, The Greatest Adventure. But if I have to hear that song ONE MORE GODDAMN TIME in this movie, I swear...because they chop up the song and use it in EVERY AVAILABLE INSTANCE with Bilbo. And I guess it’s his leitmotif, but they use that song...A LOT. And not instrumentally, I mean with the goddamn lyrics. Just...tone it down a little, OK? But OK, what about the other music, by Maury Laws? I like it! There are some songs in here that are very catchy, and I might actually get “Down, Down, to Goblin Town” on my playlist. Not that it’s all great, but it works for the setting and for the tone of the movie. And what about the editing? Eh. Visual editing is pretty good, bu7t the sound editing is...it’s 1970s animation editing. Hell, even the Rescuers sound editing wasn’t amazing, when I think about it. It’s fine, but it isn’t great most of the time.
Y’know...I think I can gel with a 76% here.
Yeah, I know, it’s low, but that’s because this movie was...good, but OK. I’m not necessarily saying that it was better or worse than the Jackson movies, because I think they compliment each other in some weird ways. I like Thorin as a character more here, but Smaug MUCH more in the Jackson films. While there definitely don’t need to be three Jackson movies...I’ll admit that I think this one is too short, coming in at only an hour and 18 minutes. And I gotta say, I love the fact that it’s animated...but the live-action films also look fantastic, I can never fault them for how they look (except for Dain...ugh). I think they’re similar, but different, at least for me.
But OK, here’s a question: is it just because it’s a property that I really like, and I have my own internal vision of it, which might be influenced by the live-action films? Entirely a possibility. Watch this movie yourself, make your own score! See what you think. Meanwhile, I’m going to try an experiment.
Fantasy movie, same production company, same directors, same animators, also based off of a fantasy book. And, uh...I dunno, a unicorn, maybe?
March 2, 2021: The Last Unicorn (1982)
#the hobbit#the hobbit 1977#j.r.r. tolkien#rankin-bass#rankin bass#orson bean#bilbo baggins#hans conried#thorin oakenshield#john huston#gandalf#otto preminger#cyril ritchard#glenn yarbrough#fantasy march#user365#365 movie challenge#365 movies 365 days#365 Days 365 Movies#365 movies a year#userakaysa
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Sweet, Like Daisies
Pairing: Usagiyama Rumi (Miruko) x Gender Neutral Reader
Story Rating: Teen
Genre: Fluff / Humor
Story Warnings: Some cursing and flirting, but mostly just cuteness that could rot your teeth.
a/n: This is my art of the bnharem Discord server SFW collab, with the theme of Flowers! I decided to base my part around Daisies, which represent innocence. Rumi can be a cute and fluffy bunny just as much as she can be super fierce and I love her to death. This story also marks my beginning of writing for characters other than Bakugou! I will be posting them on this blog. If there’s anything you’d like to see, lmk! (♡´౪`♡)
Thank you so much to everyone in the server for this wonderful experience! I had so much fun and I can’t wait for the next one!
*｡Collab Masterlist *｡
--Full art piece--
“Let’s go, let’s go! Don’t tell me you’re all tuckered out already!”
“Rumi, you gotta- oh damn, my legs are on fire! What is with this hill?!”
Coming to a stop as you pulled yourself up onto a boulder jetting out of the hillside, you flopped to sit onto your butt, rubbing your burning thigh vigorously. It was a miracle that you had even made it this far, your body not exactly used to these physically challenging hikes that your girlfriend just loved to drag you on. They were easy for her, considering that she was not only one of the top pro heroes in the country, but her quirk gave her incredibly strong legs and just overall physical strength. Her bunny legs allowed her to hop over any difficult obstacle, but you? All you could do was drag yourself along, barely keeping up with her by the skin of your teeth.
“Don’t be a wimp! You’re almost there!” Squatting down at the edge of her current perch, Rumi had that typical wicked and expectant grin on her face, a few loose strands of her white hair falling around her forehead and cheeks. “You got this, Carrot!”
“Carrot… Out of all nicknames, why did you have to pick that one.” With a huff, you pulled yourself up to your feet, using the roots and rocks to help you up the steep incline.
“Oh, because I could just eat you up, of course!” Rumi gave a teasing scrunch of her nose, one of her long rabbit ears giving a twitch in satisfaction of her response. You, however, immediately grew embarrassed, losing your footing. Scrambling to catch yourself, you got secure again before turning your glare up towards her, your face burning fiercely as she laughed at your reaction. She had a talent for making you so embarrassed you could barely stand it, but really, who could blame you?
Rumi was witty and intelligent. Confident and strong. Beautiful and caring. There wasn’t an ounce of timidness in her, which is not what people would expect when they hear the word ‘rabbit’. They would think quiet, reserved, innocent, fearful, and adorable. She was adorable, to be sure, but none of those other qualities showed themselves. Actually, they showed themselves in you.
Before you had met Rumi, you were very shy, easily overwhelmed and lacking in confidence. And still, somehow, this bright and extravagant woman had taken great interest in you, building you up higher and higher until you were finally beginning to see the sun for the first time in so many years. She pushed you to better yourself, to grow stronger and happier in your own skin, and although what she encouraged was hard, it was worth every moment and struggle.
Even if she could make you so flustered you’d want to go hide under a rock sometimes.
“Rumi! Stop that, don’t try to embarrass me while I’m climbing, I could fall!”
“You dumbass, ya think I’d let you fall? Never!” When you finally got close, Rumi reached down and took hold of your forearm, waiting until you got your own grip on hers before she helped to hoist you up. Her effortless strength astounded you as always, but you didn’t have much time to admire it, as she began to move down the past the instant you were steady on your feet. “C’mon, Carrot, move that tush!”
Sighing heavily in exhaustion, you forced your burning legs to walk forward, wiping your dirt stained hands on your similarly dirtied khaki shorts. “We’re almost to a resting point, right?”
“Yes. There’s a nice little clearing here, we can take a break!” Rumi lifted her arms up over her head, giving a drawn out and satisfied groan as she stretched. Nestled at her lower back, her white fluffy tail puffed out and shook in the same moment, bringing a smile to your lips. She was just so incredibly perfect, and you couldn’t help but feel so lucky.
After walking for a while in silence to enjoy the sounds of nature, Rumi came to a stop, starting to maneuver her way through the trees and brush. “We have to go off the path a bit. Watch out for spiders ‘n shit. And stinging nettle. I’m not gonna rub that ointment all over your body if you fall in it again!”
Remembering the painful experience of falling face first into a batch of stinging nettle the last time you went hiking, you were sure to observe your surroundings thoroughly before following her. The brush and twigs scratched and poked your legs uncomfortably, but your thick hiking boots helped you to trudge through it without much problem. When you finally breached the edge of the forest into the clearing, you had to squint a bit from the brightness of the morning sun, bringing a hand up to shield your eyes.
When your eyes finally adjusted, you found yourself standing at the edge of a large field of wildflowers and tall grass, which swayed with the cool spring breeze. It felt so heavenly against your hot and sweaty skin, and the brilliant view of the hills and trees in the distance brought a smile to your lips. Being out in the wilderness wasn’t exactly your favorite thing, but you could admit that it truly was beautiful.
“How’s this for a resting spot, eh?” Rumi quite literally knocked you back into reality with a rough, playful nudge to your side, grinning up at you. “Will this do, your highness?”
“Hey, don’t patronize me like that! I get tired, I don’t have thighs of steel like you do.” You took her hand tenderly in yours as she grabbed it, your fingers lacing instinctively.
“Excuses! C’mon, let’s sit under that tree, it has shade.” Leading you forward as always, Rumi nearly had a skip in her step, her white hair bobbing in its high, messy ponytail. The tree that was chosen was a lonely one, growing out in the field alone. With all the extra room, the roots were large and snaked in and out of the ground like tentacles, and lush green leaves were at full bloom. It was comfortable and beautiful.
Shrugging off your pack, you rested it up against the tree trunk next to Rumi’s, pulling your water bottle out of the side pocket to take a healthy swig. “This really is a nice area, Rumi. How’d you find it?” Sitting down in the grass beside her, you offered her the water bottle, which she took.
“I’ve been hikin’ this trail awhile. It’s challenging, so not a lot of losers try to take it, only those that are strong enough.” After taking a sip of water, Rumi leaned her head back, squeezing the bottle so water trickled lightly onto her face and top of her head. “It is warm today, though! Especially for being spring.”
“Ah, well I can relate to those losers, I shouldn’t be on this hill either-- ACK, hey!” Suddenly, you were sprayed in the face with water, perpetrated by a very annoyed bunny.
“Don’t belittle yourself like that! Be proud, you killed that fucking hill!”
Grumbling from defeat, you ran your hand down your face to wipe the water away, glowering at your lover as she glared right back up at you with a pout that boarded on adorable. Calming down, you smiled, nodding in agreement. “Ah, sorry, sorry. You’re right. I should be proud of myself.”
“You should! My baby isn’t a loser.” Leaning up, Rumi placed a rough kiss against your cheek, her hand pressing against your other to make sure you couldn’t flee. You’d never want to, of course, so you let her punish you with the kiss, which was followed by a much more tender one before she set you free.
Smiling, you turned your attention to the grass around your legs, which was peppered with daisies and dandelions. You felt so calm and at peace in the silence of nature, and with your lover by your side, you were feeling quite… soft. That’s the only way you could describe your current emotions, so you soaked in it for a while, leaning back and supporting yourself with your hands.
After a while of peace, you leaned forward again to give your arms a rest, turning your attention back to the flowers around you. Carefully, you began to pluck the daisies out of the ground, making sure to keep their stem long. As if in a trance, you slowly began working on winding the stems of the flowers together, growing too focused on your work and the rustling of the wind to notice that you were being watched closely. In fact, you were so startled by Rumi’s voice that you jumped, nearly crushing your delicate flower arrangement in surprise.
“What’cha makin’ there, Carrot?”
“Erm… uh, a flower crown. I guess?” You brought both ends of the strip of flowers together to check the size, finding that it still wasn’t quite long enough to fit an adult head. “I used to make them as a kid. It’s been a while since I’ve been near so many daisies.”
With another sly smile, Rumi leaned against your side, resting her head on your shoulder. “Oooh, how grossly cute and sweet! Should I start calling you Baby Carrot?”
“W-what?! No, no, don’t do that, you’re gonna make me want to puke. Why don’t you call me something normal like… babe or hun.”
“Oh, don’t be such a killjoy!” After giving you a playful nudge to the arm, Rumi turned her attention to the flowers around you both, plucking a daisy from its stem and bringing it up to her nose. “Y’know, for such a cute little flower, they have an awful smell. But damn, they’re tasty.” To your horror, Rumi chomped the entire bloomed flower head off the stem, making you yelp in disgust and cover your mouth.
“Rumi! That’s a wildflower! You can’t just eat it!”
“Hm?” Rumi looked up at you curiously, batting her long lashes in confusion. “I eat flowers all the time. I love their taste! They aren’t bitter to me at all. Restaurants sell them!”
“Y-yeah, but baby, they wash them first at least…” You felt your stomach churn as she picked up another flower, dousing it with water from your bottle. “Rumi! Don’t be a smart ass!”
“What, this one’s not for me!” Smirking, she held the now soggy and dripping flower up to your lips, making you cringe backwards with a sour expression. “Open up!”
“No way!” You covered your mouth with your hand, knowing that she would shove it in at the first opportunity. “There’s no way I’m eating a flower! At least not one that hadn’t been cleaned or anything properly! You have the stomach of a rabbit, you can handle it, I can’t!”
“What, you scared of getting worms?!” She poked you on the nose with the flower, leaning more against you. “You won’t get anything that’ll kill you!”
“I would, I just know it!” With a final wave of your hand, Rumi took the flower away, tossing it over her shoulder and back into the grass. “You wasted it?”
“Putting water on it made it soggy, I ain’t gonna eat that! Hey, show me how to make one of these!” Scooting around to face you, Rumi gazed down curiously at the still unfinished crown in your lap. “This shit is stupid; it has to be easy!”
“Well, it’s kind of hard, you have to be pretty gentle with the flowers. Here,” You plucked four daisies with a long stem, handing them to her before you plucked two more of your own. With detailed instruction, you showed her exactly how to twist and wind the stems, but you could see that she was already struggling with the delicate procedure. The frustrated pout was permanently plastered on her fair face, nose scrunching and eyebrows furrowed. Still, she was trying and as focused as she could be.
“How the hell are you doing that so perfectly?!” Rumi eventually snapped, leaning over you a bit to really see your almost finished crown up close. “Look at that! It almost looks fake!”
Laughing softly, you finished off by connecting the two ends of the crown together, holding it up a bit to look at it clearly in the sun. “I told you, I’ve done this before. It’s not that big of a deal, babe. Here,” Turning to face her, you plopped the flower crown onto her the top of her head between her ears, making them flatten out backwards in immediate embarrassment and the tickling of the flowers against the sensitive skin.
Cheeks flushing dark, Rumi scoffed, glaring up at you as she resisted the urge to reach up and rip it off. “Get this thing off of me, I’m not some damn fairy!”
“Aw, but you look so adorable with it on.” You couldn’t resist the wide smile on your lips, especially as Rumi only grew more flustered, her ears snapping up in agitation and making the flower crown bend a bit, though it didn’t fall from her head. “It just makes you look so cute and innocent!”
“I’m not!” Rumi scooted herself closer so that she was sitting right up against your crossed legs, letting hers rest on either side of your hips. “Call me cute and innocent again and I’ll make you regret it!” As if it were a punishment, Rumi reached up and plopped her sloppy excuse for a flower crown onto the top of your head. The instant it landed, it broke apart, showering you with crumpled daisies. Unable to help it, you began to laugh, which only grew harder as Rumi began to rage and stutter. “Dammit! Fucking flowers! This is why I just eat the damn things! Stop laughing at me, Carrot!”
Covering your mouth, you gave a defeated shake of your head, holding your other hand up in defense. “I’m sorry, Rumi, it was just too funny! And so cute!”
Before you could even find the time to react, you were tackled down into the grass, immediately smothered by the feral animal before you. Latching onto her instinctively, you were at her mercy as she gripped your face with both hands, squishing your cheeks and forcing your lips to pucker, even as your laughter continued.
“I told you! You call me cute, you’re gonna die! I-” Suddenly, the flower crown slipped off the top of her head and onto your face, framing it perfectly. The shock silenced you immediately, staring up at Rumi in surprise. She was just as perturbed as you were, but after a moment her wonder broke into a grin, chuckling as she released your cheeks. “Look who’s all cute and innocent now! Ya dork.”
Not bothering to remove the crown, you smiled softly, reaching up to caress Rumi’s cheeks tenderly. “No one in this entire world is cuter than you, baby.”
“Says the person with a flower crown on their face and daisies stuck in their hair. Hey!”
Rumi’s ears parted again as you took the crown off your face, placing it carefully on her head again to where it wouldn’t fall. This time, instead of getting angry, Rumi’s cheeks flushed again, and a cheeky smile stretched across her lips. “You aren’t gonna give up, are ya?”
“Never. Besides, innocence is a great look for you. Just please don’t eat anymore daisies.”
“Nah, flowers aren’t all that appetizing. I think I’m in the mood for some Carrot, instead.”
#bnha imagines#bnha scenarios#rumi#usagiyama rumi#miruko#mirko#bnha#boku no hero academia#my hero academia#bnha fanfiction#fanfiction#miruko x reader#rumi x reader#personal#collab
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188. porky’s poppa (1938)
release date: january 15th, 1938
series: looney tunes
director: bob clampett
starring: mel blanc (porky, porky’s poppa, narrator), bob clampett (duck)
it’s safe to say that 1938 was porky’s best year. speaking in terms of solo cartoons, that is. his cartoons were genuinely funny, stimulating, and he looked great appearance wise. 1939 the porky burnout started, and he was slowly reduced to a smiling stock character whose adversaries and costars were much more alive than he was.
as daffy (and later bugs) rose to popularity, porky slipped into the sidekick role, paired primarily with the duck. with that said, the porky/daffy cartoons are some of the funniest around, and i firmly believe the best cartoons for the both of them are the ones where they’re paired together—with a few exceptions, of course.
however, let’s not get ahead of ourselves: a great year of pig stardom awaits. porky’s father, who made a few appearances during the joe dougherty era, makes his final return. in a story that has loose similarities to the premise of porky’s railroad, porky struggles to convince his father that their cow, bessie, is a much better fit for the farm than the newfangled mechanical cow his father has his eyes on.
the introduction is one of the funniest aspects of the cartoon itself. a hand erases the title credits, scrawled on a blackboard, and fills in “PORKY’S POPPA... HAS A FARM”, mirroring the underscore of “old macdonald” (with substitute lyrics) below it.
a layout of the farm cuts to our pint-sized hero, grinning at the camera as the vocals sing “...and on this farm he had a pig: porky pig, you know.” bobe cannon animates porky struggling to sing along with the lyrics, his “oh buh-beh-boy!”s lagging with the beat. the music halts just in time for porky to pump his fists in frustration, not stuttering once as he grumbles “oh, skip it!”
repeatedly cutting back to the layout of the farm in conjunction with the lyrics is practically a gag within itself. the song grows increasingly absurd, with a goose honking horns, a cow showing off her legs as the vocals sing “with a little calf here, with a little calf there...”, struggling to keep up with the rapid pace of the song. bob clampett lends his own voice to a random duck (no relation to daffy!), following a hand pointing at certain areas of the farm and quacking (”with a little quack here, with a little quack there...”)
finally, the duck in his psuedo-donald duck voice instructs “EVERYBODY SING!”, complete with some fun and unique typography. the entire song falls to pieces--before, the cutting back to the farm’s layout added an incongruous feeling of calm to balance out the wacky antics of the animals and the song. now, everything happens at once. the duck zips across the screen in a quacking frenzy, the mother cow shows off her baby calves, thrusting them to the beat of the music, the goose is a one man band of assorted horns, etc. blissful chaos.
things slow down as we cut back to porky, who smugly whips out a phonograph behind his back. the record is just him saying “oh boy!”, playing correctly to the beat of the music. he’s got this song number figured out... or does he?
even technology can’t conceal his stutter. the record begins to skip, mimicking the sound of his stutter, and porky smashes the phonograph to pieces as he slams it against the ground. the wordless yet furious stare he gives the audience as the dying record croaks out a distorted “oooooooh..... boooooooooy....” is nothing short of priceless. though he didn’t say a word himself during this scene, his motives, thoughts, and emotions are clearly visible. you can FEEL his pride at his solution, as well of the subsequent fury of his solution blowing up in his face. a wonderful end to a hilarious song sequence.
“but on his farm, he has a mortgage... woe, oh woe, oh woe!” the score turns in to a mournful, minor key dirge, with anthropomorphic mortgage papers posing proudly on the farm. some very clever posing and metaphorical play as we fade to porky’s dad, moping around on the farm, the mortgage aligning with his silhouette and becoming a physical weight on his back. more playing with typography as the narrator reads aloud the words on the screen:
this is a parody of the march of time, a radio program who would often announce the death of a notorious person by declaring “and so, today, as it must to all men, death came to [name], [age].” even without the context, the gag is rather amusing, bringing a different change of pace to the cartoon with the addition of a narrator and the typography. knowing the source of the gag makes it hit just the right spot.
porky’s dad mutters about ruination, how he has no milk and no money, etc. mel blanc does a fine job of mimicking joe dougherty, maintaining the stutter and the low voice--in the dougherty cartoons, porky’s father was just dougherty’s natural speaking voice, whereas porky was sped up considerably. you can hear both at once here for comparison.
we pan over to the cause of one of these stresses: their cow, bessie, has been quarantined (how timely!) for “hoof ‘n mouth trouble”, a play on hand-foot-and-mouth disease. clampett opts to take things just a step further--we truck inside the stall to see bessie posing for the camera, grinning with her foot INSIDE her mouth, batting her eyelashes and all. the “bull bontana” (bull montana) poster plastered inside of her stall is a clever touch.
after seeing that bessie’s production chart has dipped overwhelmingly into the negatives--a roll of paper unfurling at porky’s father’s feet, indicating just how poor the farm is doing--he places an “out of order” sign on the stall door.
suddenly, porky’s father grows aggravated. “i need to send you to the hamburger factory!” cue a close-up of bessie tearfully picturing her fate--a pile of burgers and hotdogs make up her figure. clampett would reprise this gag (albeit in a much more cruel manner) in porky’s last stand 2 years later, where daffy eagerly envisions a steaming hot hamburger in place of an innocent little calf.
this is the second cartoon to make an ACME reference, the first being buddy’s bug hunt back in 1935. porky’s father phones up ACME mail order company, asking for “one cow--airmail”. context clues are just as important to the gag than the reveal itself: porky, his father, and bessie all become alert to the sounds of an airplane making a cacophony overhead. suddenly, a package bursts through the barn ceiling, floating to the ground with a neatly tied parachute. the animation appears to be the work of john carey, from the tall, pill-shaped eyes to the slow, drawn out way that porky blinks.
norm mccabe takes over to animate the grand reveal. lots of wonderful little subtleties: porky and his father are timed slightly differently, giving them both a natural sense of interaction and movement. there’s a lovely little accent on porky’s father opening the package by pulling a string--he jerks his head up slightly as he plucks the string, allowing the audience to feel the physical impact and snap of the pluck. it’s subtle, but very well done.
instead of a flesh and blood cow, a mechanical hunk of metal slowly unfurls to life as the package opens. as porky’s father reads the label (The New 1938 CREAMLINED COW), porky himself objects to the new addition. “aww, eh-the-there ain’t no such animal!”
indeed there is: porky’s father loads a pile of hay into a chute, pressing down on the cow’s paintbrush tail. the cow pumps along to a brassy score of “old macdonald”, churning out milk from its metal udders, the milk pouring straight into an assembly line of bottles below. bob clampett’s puns are plentiful in this cartoon (notice how there’s no writer’s credit--he often said that he would write some of his earliest cartoons himself. i assume he wrote this one as well? i wonder how much input chuck jones had in the story?), but delivered nonchalantly, so they can actually be enjoyed. the cow caps the milk bottles by putting literal newsboy caps on top of the bottles, the paintbrush tail painting “cream paint” to the outside of the bottles and forming the illusion of cream. interesting business practices!
bobe cannon animates a delightful scene with porky. fun animation and fun dialogue make for a great combo. some very fluid, light, and fun animation of porky giving his pep talk as he hops around, swinging his arms, nonchalantly pushing his hat out of his face after getting so excited. “c’mon, eh-beh-beh-beh-bessie! we won’t let that old eh-neh-nuh-new fangled eh-ceh-co--heifer beat us. you just eat your uh-wuh-wee-weh-whea--eh-ha-hay, and show that eh-teh-eeh-eh-tin-can cow who can make the most...”
porky lowers bessie’s foot from her mouth by climbing on it, preparing to shovel a forkful of hay into her mouth, however, she shoves her foot right back in it, much to porky’s annoyance. “aww, every time you open your muh-mee-muh-me-eh-mou--kisser, ya put your eh-feh-eh-foot in it! eh-bee-bessie, you gotta eat! you eh-deh-dee-eh-don’t wanna be eh-seh-seeah-seeah-smothered in onions, eh-do ya?”
treg brown’s sound effects of doors creaking as her leg is lowered is the perfect touch to the gag. porky struggles to feed bessie, eventually getting stuck in her mouth himself as he attempts to hold both legs down to no avail. he frees himself, just in time to hatch an ingenious idea.
his plan works: porky places the entire pile of hay onto bessie’s legs, who swallows it up whole, her mouth comically huge as she attempts to swallow it. porky is overjoyed, clapping at her efforts before rushing off to give her some privacy.
instead of porky just milking her like a regular farmer, clampett pushes the entire scenario further. porky paces around in the manner of an expectant father, accompanied by a soft score of “lullaby on broadway”. the sound of a baby crying prompts porky to do a gorgeously animated head shake of surprise--bessie hands him a milk bottle, which porky carefully swaddles and places in a basket.
the charade continues, with clampett lulling us into a false sense of security with an already absurd gag. cue a gag that would have been incredibly risque in 1938: at about the fifth bottle, porky reaches out and finds that bessie hands him a bottle labeled “CHOC. MALT”, accompanied by an underscore of “i wish i was in dixie”. porky and bessie both grow bashful, but porky’s nonchalant whistling is cut to a half as bessie delivers yet another bottle. “gosh--eh-ceh-ceh-quin-eh-qui-eh--quart-tuplets!”
porky rushes over to his farther to share the good news. however, dad is too preoccupied with the fancy mechanics of the cow to pay bessie any mind. he shows porky a barrage of dairy-related puns churned out by the creamlined cow:
cottage cheese (cheese in the shapes of houses--and an outhouse for good measure--don the conveyer belt), limburger cheese (cheese slices with clothes pins pinned to their “noses” to ward off the stench), and swiss cheese (a cuckoo bird pops out of the cow’s mechanical side and sprays the cheese wheels with bullets, which turn into yodeling mouths). interestingly, mel’s voice for porky’s father changes in this scene--it’s still him, but the nasally undertones are absent. i wonder if he did this on a different day?
nevertheless, the staging of the next gag is genius. the majority of the screen is black, save for a small window revealing porky holding onto bessie’s udders. “c’mon, eh-beh-bessie! hurry eh... hurry eh... step on it!” the window expands to reveal bessie pouring a bucket of milk into a line of funnels (rather than udders), which are then evenly distributed to the bottles. “’ats a guh-geh-gee-eh-girl!”
mechanical cow seems to be doing just fine, plopping cherries on top of elaborate ice cream sundaes and milk shakes. the only fault in the system is the cow’s own personal whiskey bottle rolling down the assembly line, which it confiscates promptly.
porky, on the other hand, is making do. with an ice block on her head, bessie churns out ice cream cones to the best of her ability. as the cones grow smaller and smaller in size, porky orders her to eat more hay, which she happily does so.
now, it’s cow vs. cow. the mechanical cow opts to play some dirty tricks on bessie, pouring a jar of vanishing cream it produced onto the hay bessie is eating. and, thanks to the law of cartoon physics, the milk bottles she hands porky disappear by the minute. though the effect of the bottles disappearing may not seem like much today, for 1938 the ink and paint department did a wonderful job of demonstrating the illusion that the bottles suddenly disappeared.
with the rest of the hay now gone thanks to a hefty glob of vanishing cream, porky and bessie engage in a wild goose (cow?) chase to find more hay. the mechanical cow gobbles up every square inch of hay in sight--at one point, bessie heaves a dubious shrug to the audience. i love how they made her hooves look like hands, but still remain identifiable hooves. the scramble animation she does as she dashes out of frame (with porky clinging to her like a horse) is wonderfully done as well.
both porky and bessie and the creamlined cow exit the barn, chasing each other around the farm. the mechanical cow physically turns into a vacuum cleaner, threatening to suck up the last remaining pile of hay. in a gag that’s reminiscent of the harman-ising days (is it the inclusion of the outhouse?), the cow-turned-vacuum rushes into a shed filled to the brim with hay. the audience merely watches the shed itself shrink in size as the cow gobbles up all of the hay, the final result a puny little outhouse.
at last, the enemies reach a face-off. the last pile of hay--or, as porky puts it in his punny little way, “eh-thee-the-thee-that’s the last straw.” in a relatively tashlin-esque maneuver, clampett makes some fast cuts to heighten the suspense of the action. cut between porky and bessie to the mechanical cow to the pile of straw (facetiously labeled “MILK WEED”). the cuts grow quicker and quicker, the music crescendo-ing...
until BLAM! in a loose parallel to the finale of rover’s rival, everything explodes at once. nuts and bolts rain in the sky, as do neat little bundles of hay. however, clampett doesn’t allow the audience to rest just yet--with bessie nowhere in sight, the mechanical cow continues to charge forth, seeking refuge in a hay to release a humongous pile of milk bottles. so high, in fact, that the shed (and cow) are elevated several feet into the air. porky’s a goner.
porky’s father, who had been absent for the past few minutes, reappears to declare the tin-can cow a winner, much to porky’s visible dissatisfaction.
yet it’s not a clampett cartoon without a twist! bessie pokes her head out of the mechanical cow’s mouth, mooing the ever popular catchphrase from the ken murray show: “mmmmmmwooooooooooah, yeeeeaaaaaah!” porky gives a celebratory “oh, boy!” as we iris out--the goose and duck from earlier poke their heads into the scene just before the iris fully closes.
this is an early porky cartoon that’s just plain fun. bobe cannon’s animation of porky serves as one of the many highlights, from porky getting aggravated with his phonograph to his excited pep talk towards bessie. corny as the opening number is, it’s a lot of fun at the same time--the intensity in increasing chaos is a prevalent theme to clampett’s cartoons. just look at the climax/ending of baby bottleneck!
i don’t have many complaints towards this cartoon, if any at all. it’s not my favorite porky entry, sure, but it’s most certainly an enjoyable watch and one of his better cartoons of the ‘30s. the visual puns aren’t nearly as hamfisted as ben hardaway’s (as we’ll soon discover), making them more enjoyable than some of the jokes present in, say, daffy duck & egghead. regardless, there are a lot of unique gags, fun animation, and amusing dialogue to constitute a watch.
the cartoon is up on HBOmax, but you can also watch it here!
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(1) New Message from Unknown Number
main masterlist // (1) New Message Masterlist // next part
Summary: Y/N is drunk and can’t remember her ex’s number.
A/N: Hello, it is I, the idiot who writes Social Media AUs when she’s drunk but is too lazy to put them in the proper format and just leaves them to die somewhere on her laptop
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader (Social Media AU - that’s a lie, it’s actually just texts in Word format 🤡)
Warnings: swearing, dumbassery
Unknown Number: Hey asshat so listen
Unknown Number: I kno we hvnt spoken since like
Unknown Number: High school but whateve idc
Unknown Number: U’re an asshle so I dnt even care that its like…
Unknown Number: 3 in the morning nvrmd
Unknown Number: Ive ben dared to txt my hottest ex by these evil witchS so
Unknown Number: Here u go
Unknown Number: At least u had decent abs so congrats on tht jfc
Unknown Number: also u dnt get to complain abt this txt bc like
Unknown Number: u dated me for 6 months on a dare so U KNOW WHat this shuold feel like ya
Unknown Number: Wow dude that sounds like a dick move
Unknown Number: Seriously who the hell dates someone for 6 months on a dare?
Unknown Number: Doesn’t that only happen in movies though?
Unknown Number: hey bitchass dont act like u don’t kno what im talkinG abt
Unknown Number: Oh shit yeah, sorry. I don’t know who this asshole of an ex is but I sure as hell am not him
Unknown Number: Dude sounds like a complete waste of human space
Unknown Number: And I think I wouldn’t get to live it down if my friends would hear I did something that shitty
Unknown Number: Wait lemme ask Sam
Unknown Number: Nah, he says Steve would’ve beaten my ass if I were to do that so there u go
Unknown Number: m sorry who tf are u
Unknown Number: Bucky
Unknown Number: what kind of stupid name is bucky
Unknown Number: Shit man, u’re the one blowing up my phone at 3 in the morning, sending me weird ass messages when I don’t even know u and u dare say my name is stupid???
Unknown Number: Sheit srry
Unknown Number: Is been A long night
Unknown Number: nd week
Unknown Number: Actlly make thAt the whle entire fuckin month
Girl with asshole ex: Srry fr bothering u
Unknown Number: It‘s cool
Girl with asshole ex: Hey the witches ask if ure hot
Bonky: Yeah
Girl with asshole ex: WHAT THE FCK MAN AT LEST BE A LIL BIT HUMBLE SMH
Bonky: U wanted me to lie?
Girl with asshole ex: Fair point
Girl with asshole ex: They wnt a pic
Girl with asshole ex: Pic or it didn’t happen punk
Girl with asshole ex: Tht was nat
Bonky: What kind of party are u at that you can constantly text me?
Girl with asshole ex: Wanda’s place
Girl with asshole ex: Girls night
Girl with asshole ex: Getting hammered on wine BITCH
Girl with asshole ex: Also dnt change the subject
Bonky: I don’t even know your name
Girl with asshole ex: Why would I tell u my name I just want to see a suppsdly hot asssd
Bonky: You know mine and now you want me to send u a pic of me
Bonky: Bit of a disadvantage here babe
Girl with asshole ex: Babe?
Girl with asshole ex: BABE?
Girl with asshole ex: Fine
Girl with asshole ex: BABE if I tell u my name will u send a pic of u so we kno u arnt a 60yr old perv
Bonky: I’ll think about it
Girl with asshole ex: Hey fuck u
Girl with asshole ex: Not fair
Bonky: How do I know you’re not the 60yr old perv?
Girl with asshole ex: Cuz she got big tiddies to prove
Girl with asshole ex: And that was wanda
Girl with asshole ex: So now u know my fridsn
Bonky: Still don’t know your name tho babe
Bonky: Also tell Wanda she shouldn’t give out this type of info to strangers
Girl with asshole ex: ure not a stranger anymore bonky
Girl with asshole ex: ure my babe nao
Bonky: I’m going to let that Bonky slide just bc u’re cute
Bonky: But I’m also going to stop replying until you tell me your name
Girl with asshole ex: U think im cute?
Girl with asshole ex:
Girl with asshole ex: I mean u havnt even seen me but thats fair
Girl with asshole ex: Wand and nat say its true so ill believe u rnt lying to me rn
Girl with asshole ex: But I wanna see if ure cute
Girl with asshole ex: Wait why r u up st 3 in the mrng I mean we re drunk but wht r u doing
Girl with asshole ex: Babe u need to take better care of urself
Girl with asshole ex: Babe
Girl with asshole ex: Babe?
Girl with asshole ex: BABE?
Girl with asshole ex: Ph shit ure actually ignoring me
Girl with asshole ex: I dont like this
Girl with asshole ex: I actually like talking to u
Girl with asshole ex: Pls stop ignoring me
Girl with asshole ex: COME BACK AND LOBE ME
Girl with asshole ex: Babe?
Girl with asshole ex: Fine
Girl with asshole ex: It’s Y/N
Bonky: Now, that wasn’t so hard was it?
Babe: fcuk u
Bonky: I’m up at 3 bc we ordered pizza and decided it’s time to beat Sam’s ass in Mario Kart once and for all
Babe: Nd how’s that going for ya?
Bonky: Bitch has been beating us for the past 3 hours
Bonky: Thor is the only one getting at least close to him now so we’re about to give up
Babe: Wait shit how r u replying so fast if ure playing Mario kart tho
Bonky: I gave up two hours ago
Babe: Quitter
Bonky: Just gotta know which fights to pick babe
Babe: Heads up I might be fallin asleep soon
Bonky: Drink some water before that, maybe get some food in u as well to soak up all the alcohol and have an advil close for tomorrow
Babe: Ok MOM
Bonky: Hey Wanda willingly told me you have “big tiddies” so your friends don’t seem to be doing a good job of taking care of you
Bonky: Might as well let me do it so you don’t die tmrw
Babe: Ohhhh so u careeeee babe im touched
Babe: Kkkkkk Ill talk tu u tmrw ill be dead soon
Babe: Nd I do have big tiddies
Bonky: Good night babe
*
Babe: What the shit
Bonky: I see you survived
Babe: Barely
Babe: My head might explode soon and I feel like I’ve vomited for an entire lifetime
Babe: TMI sorry
Bonky: I’d like to point out I’m glad I don’t have to decipher your texts anymore and that you can actually spell properly
Babe: Fuck you Buckaroo
Bonky: I would also like to remind you that I have on good authority that you have “big tiddies” so don’t make me use that against you
Babe: I am going to kill Wanda
Babe:Ugh I need coffee
Babe: I’ll talk to you later
Bonky: I’ll be waiting for you babe
*
Babe: So
Babe: BABE
Bonky: Yes baby?
Babe:
Bonky: Nah, you love it
Babe: Fine
Babe: You still haven’t sent a pic of you though. I might be able to rise Nat and Wanda from the dead if you do
Bonky: What do I get in return?
Babe: The promise that I will keep replying even though you might turn out to be an ugly orc?
Bonky: Not enough
Babe: Fine. I’ll keep talking to you until you want me to stop. Or until I get bored of you
Bonky: Eh, you can do better
Babe: What do you WANT?
Bonky: A pic of you in return
Babe: I’m not sending you nudes, perv
Bonky: If I wanted to see you naked and be a dick about it, I could’ve asked last night, don’t worry
Bonky: But if you’ll know how I look it’s only fair I should know how you look
Babe: That sounds reasonable
Bonky: I’d say it’s a fair exchange
Babe: Fine, you first then
Bonky: If you don’t send me a pic of you afterwards babe I will stop replying, just so you know
Bonky:
Babe: Did you type super hot guy with the most beautiful eyes in the world in Google or something?
Bonky: I’m touched but no. Sam took that photo at a work event
Babe: Bitch do you really expect me to believe this is you? That looks like a guy who just stepped out of a magazine, I highly doubt I would have the luck to text him instead of my ex when drunk
Bonky:
Bonky: Are you always this annoying?
Babe: …
Bonky: What? Do you want me to take a selfie with the fucking newspaper now? I read the news online babe, I’m not getting off of this couch just so I can buy a stupid newspaper to prove it’s me
Babe: Do you have one in a suit?
Bonky: …why am I putting up with this?
Bonky: Hold on
Bonky:
Bonky: It’s been 5 minutes, are you going to reply?
Bonky: You still have to send me a picture of you though, a deal is a deal you know
Bonky: Fine, I warned you
Babe: Shit sorry
Babe: Hi Bucky, this is Natasha
Bonky: Hi Natasha. Is Y/N alright?
Babe: Uhm how should I put this?
Babe: Y/N is crying right now and she can’t reply herself
Bonky: What? What happened? Is she okay?
Babe: Oh yeah
Babe: She’s just crying because (and I’m quoting here) you’re “so beautiful, it’s like all my wet dreams and fantasies have come together. I swear this is some cosmic joke, this is not happening”
Babe: I’m not sure if she’s laughing or crying now
Babe: But she keeps yelling at me that I have to send you the most perfect picture of herself that has ever existed or you will stop talking to her
Babe: I think she started crying again because “I will never live up to that level of perfection, he told me that I have to know which fights to pick”
Babe: Uh yeah so here
Babe: 1 Photo Attached
Bonky: Hey Nat, could you tell Y/N that I would like to talk to her now?
Babe: Sure
Babe: Hey
Bonky: Baby?
Babe: Yeah?
Bonky: You picked the wrong fight if you think “you will never live up to this level of perfection”
Babe: Oh God
Bonky: Stop being an idiot
Bonky: And listen to me
Bonky: I would really like to keep talking to you. Mainly because you’re an idiot who makes me laugh, but it’s also the fact that you are the most gorgeous woman I have ever seen in my entire life
Babe:
#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes fanfiction#bucky barnes oneshot#social media au#bucky barnes social media au#bucky barnes au#social media#bucky barnes texts
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YO LOBOTOMY CORP AND NSR? TWO OF MY FAVORITE THINGS? You got some amazing tastes! What are your favorite abnormalities? (Personally I love Clouded Monk and Army in Black.)
Guess it’s just my deep need for unusual characters in media- the weirder they are the more I love :,> plus both got object head/inhuman characters so I’m just in heaven with ‘em dsdsdhs.
And ohhhhh boiii- gotta find the strenght to not cite more than a half of them all or this ask is gonna be infinite ahah. They all just so neat,,,
(Ohh! Those two have really good stories, especially Monk! Also a Zayin turning Aleph upon you fricking up? We love the sadism of Project Moon.)
(!!Obvious spoilers for Lobotomy Corp!!)
Mhhh- so! I already said two of them:
-Funeral of the Dead Butterflies (cw: death mentions, bugs)
I love his design to bits plus c’mon,,, he attacks you with butterflies-... butterflies from a coffin and a literal hand gun.
The thing that hits me the most it’s his flavor text and description though, so cold yet poetic, direct and harsh- is one of those many info pages that make you understand how dark Lobotomy Corp is and I love it. Weird abnormalaty to be one of my faves tho since I’m panicked by only thinking about death in a direct way eh;;;
-Void Dream (cw: dreams used as escapism)
They’re a sheep- a sheep perpetually tired... how can I not love them,, sgdsgd.
Alright joking apart- the whole thing about using dreams as escapism is just really interesting, it’s a thing that many just go through (me included) while others just remain trapped into it? To the point of delusion- of not accepting reality anymore,,, it’s both a terribly frightening and fascinating concept- especially with how they convey it ingame! (The whole- if sleeping employes are awaken during their breach they instantly go mad? Reality kicking in right there.)
These are the main two faves explained! I’ll write more under the cut ‘cause I just really like to ramble about them and also some of the topics get a bit darker,,
Some more faves are:
-Blood Bath (cw: self harm, suicide)
This one makes my wrists crawl just by looking at the suit and weapon,, but I think it’s one of the reasons I find it interesting- and also because of its serene yet chilling look. It’s presence is calm- but you can just feel that something is wrong, the blood and cuts being the lowest on the frightening scale. The story is just heart-wrenching, at least for me, and I like that they had the respect to be crude and keep it quite real while describing what Carmen was going through. The last line also hits me everytime ngl;;
I do prefer its legacy version though- because of the more personal final observation- especially with the choice to grab the hand or not.
Those hands though.. oh those hands-,, no matter what, they’re still stretching outward and asking for help with such streght- I don’t know, it’s both hopeful and depressing to see that all that remains of its victims is that.
-Today’s Shy Look
Even if they killed my self insert first time around I forgive ‘em lmao.
This one I like because of the way it rappresents shyness as something more than just a cute thing or an excuse. As an extremely shy person myself, reading the last phrase of their story is so sad- the way they just ask to let them have at least the space between their face and their skin mask as only their own- a space to be themselves without the need to stretch their face into a smile for the sake of others :,>
-Der Freischütz (cw: guns)
Hella cool looking and his story is quite familiar- makes sense since he is a “fairytale” category- heck I gotta figure out the real story that inspired it.
But a cold hearted huntsman who tried to trick the devil just for the latter to let him destroy everything he loved himself and let his own soul get a free pass for hell? Love him.
I like drammatic stories with an open or bad end I guess eh;;
-The Burrowing Heaven (cw: eyes)
Just the name itself makes me love it. I like when things usually associated with good get turned around- and with such sneaky and cool sounding names!
The story I also love how is written- it’s like a poem. Imma sucker for poetic sounding things and this game spoils me to no end,,
Also its aesthetic? Beautiful.
-Child of the Galaxy (cw: abusive friendship, suicide)
10/10 would use him to train my weaklings in spite of the danger anytime lmao.
Once again- the story does it for me. Especially the way the opening segment is described in such an ethereal and friendly way- and then you read that it’s from the diary of one of his victims,,
Obsessive friendships or obsessive need for attention and love are more topics that are interesting for me to read about- just how such a nice thing can become so dark and abusive- brrr scary. I also feel it portrays the feeling of being the victim of one of these relationships in some way- always feeling observed, walking on eggshells with everything you do- scared of what they might do or think, the feeling of just being used, of not being in control- geez this game is ruthless when you look into them stories;;
-The dreaming Current (cw: drugs)
I love this shark boyo so much;;; their design is so surreal, creepy and colorful?? Just- woah,,
Their origins are also so sad- a child’s life made of pills and comatose dreams to let them have “normal” experiences,, so heartwarming yet depressing sobs.
Also this boi’s weapon shoots bubbles-... b u b b l e s- I want to get them just to use that weapon on an Aleph or Waw just for laughs sdysdsh.
-The Trio of Magical Girls (Queen of Hatred, Knight of Despair, King of Greed)
I still count the boxes and pray everytime I send someone in King of Greed while they’re under a certain percent;;
I love all three designs, but I also love the “Uh? No more problems? We gonna be the problem then!” vibe they all mostly have sahdhsgd.
All of them show how any good thing, if you have or do too much, can become bad. Sense of justice and love, compassion and loyalty, happiness- they easily become hate, despair and greediness.
I’m especially fascinated by Kind of Greed due to the all thing about desire becoming something impossible for humans to fully satisfy and becoming their own cage- deep stuff for me to overanalyze ahahah.
-Big Bird (cw: eyes)
Birb. They big and they birb. Perfection lmao.
Alright for real- the whole story of the three birds is quite good, showing that our worry over something can become an even bigger threat than the thing itself (Note to myself right there;;).
I just also really love the big bird boyo,, they a mess to keep at bay during ordeals and stuff but they adorable so I forgive the “casualties” ohoh.
I would rant on and on but this is already so long- idk who will even read all this stuff but,,, it makes me happy so I guess it’s more for me than others eh;; :,>
#the cloud can speak oh boi#thank you so much for this ask#you practically opened a mind floodgate and I couldn't be happier sdsdgsj#I love talking about these creatures so much- there is just so much to say and analyze! Oh geez I'm starting again;;
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