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#poor Roy really out here losing all his loved ones
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Bart being rowdy and Linda reprimanding him, and Dinah silently giving Roy support are such good little details
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felikatze · 8 months
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roy is my boy. my beautiful boy who is so bad at combat which is also A DELIBERATE CHARACTERIZATION DECISION.
it's his support with lance, i believe, which questions why roy is at the front lines at all. and roy acknowledges that he sucks. he's weak compared to everyone else, he knows this, but he fights on the frontlines anyways because it's about respect. he doesn't want to be the commander giving orders from up high - he wants to fight together with his men, remain connected with the people he leads. he never wants to lose sight of them.
and it's a thing about self-confidence, too, and how little he has of it - this lad has some massive imposter syndrome. again, he knows all his faults intimately. his combat performance is poor, he's studied the art of war but lacks any actual experience, and he considers himself, well, a loser, overall. but people love him anyway, because he still gives it his all, and it's in his lance support, too - roy's charismatic. not in the bold way, but in his demure nature. he's a steady presence to draw people together, with an earnestness that inspires others to help him succeed. they can tell he just wants to make things better for everybody, and they want to be better for him, too.
also, he's not just a soldier on the battlefied. he's the tactician. you don't see mark sweeping maps, right? roy is canonically the tactical mind behind the entire campaign, and he's damn good at it, too. i forgot whether it's lalum or elffin route, but in one of the two, it's said that it was roy's decision to rebrand to the etrurian army. that name change alone shows keen political awareness. being the lycian army when you're just a hodgepodge of lycians is fine, but when a etrurian general starts backing you, and you've now got the the whole of the continent's biggest nation behind you, well - the snooty bastards from up high aren't gonna let tiny little lycia hog all the glory. roy's conceeding recognition of the war effort to etruria to appease the new etrurian soldiers under his watch who'd balk at being lead by a pheraen nobody. (they probably dont even know where pherae is).
roy's a scholar, not a warrior. he wasn't present when bandits attacked pherae's castle cuz he was on his way home from summer break at college. he's good at this shit cuz he studied it. he has elffin and cecilia as advisors later on, but the early game is all him.
and he still doesn't recognize that cuz it's not physical. he's not in the action. to him, he is just leading people to their deaths. it's his duty to prevent it. it's the inherent guilt of leadership. and how inferior he feels compared to his father and hector - both great warriors in their own right (even if eliwood's combat performance in fe7 is equally poor). this is the only way to prove himself to himself. agrh.
roy is also just so deeply deeply kind. he will give anyone the chance to change, but he's not softhearted. if he must kill, he will. still, though, he has to try. he's always searching for that silver lining, always searching for a way to spill less blood on all sides.
if there is one thing he believes in, it is the goodness of the heart. he's optimistic, but not naive. he knows the world is rotten. the history of the scouring proves that well enough. but the world is made of its people, and if people choose to improve, the world will, too. just as roy tries, anyone can try. anyone should be able to try. humans, dragons, he doesn't care. if you do good, you are good. i just. i know i'm talking vague but it's such a hard thing to pin down.
i really think fe6 is let down by it's lack of emotive portraits here. if you wanna get emotion out of the story you really need to read into it yourself and let your imagination do the work just because there's no portraits or voice acting to sell it for you.
i love my boy. if you mischaracterize him as "hehe dragon racist" ever again i'll kill you.
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hello, i would like to hear about the titans fantasy au O.O
Oh man, you really shouldn't enable me like this... but if you insist!!
Alright, here's the setting: We're in some weird Lord of Rings/DnD fantasy setting with various magical creatures and inconsistent technological developments. Were tunics worn at the same time as ball gowns? Were carriages used at the same time as broad swords? I don't know! And I'm not doing any historical research! It's just haphazardly medieval!
Donna, for the most part, is relatively unchanged. She fits into this setting rather well. She is the demigod daughter of Zues, warrior in training, third in line to be Queen of the Amazons. At 13 years old she is a new arrival from her island nation and she is hoping to learn monster hunting (she's hoping to learn by doing). The one condition of her joining Diana was that she was supposed to stay with Diana at all times. Both of them nodded and smiled in agreement when their mother, the Queen, said this. Both immediately parted ways once their boat hit the shores of this new and exciting world.
Speaking of new and exciting, the King of Atlantis' ward is tagging along for the first time to see the surface world. Garth is fascinated (and a little terrified) and he's hoping to learn new types of magic! The Crown Prince (his older brother) Koryak says that he will make a fearsome mage one day and he really doesn't want to let him down. Garth imagines that one day his brother will rule as King and Garth will be there at his side as the Head Mage. He really has to work on his skills to get to that point though! Hence studying abroad. He's also... maybe... looking to meet some friends. Or any friends, really. He doesn't have any and he's heard good things.
Lord Richard of Gotham is so tired of politics. His... 'father' is the Crown Prince, next in line for the throne of Gotham. Not that anyone, including Bruce, is happy about it. The Kane family has had the crown for centuries and now, because the King only had daughters and Bruce's mom had the audacity to marry a Wayne (their rival house), they stand to lose it all. Thankfully, Bruce's status as Crown Prince is only temporary. As soon as Princess Kate Kane is married off, her husband will automatically be next in line. (Although they've sure been taking their time with that. What's the hold up?) So Bruce doesn't have to ever worry about being King and Dick (as Bruce's totally legitimate love child that Bruce didn't make up to make sure Dick could inherit everything if he ever died, don't do the math on their ages) doesn't ever have to worry about the throne at all. Sure, he's technically second in line but it's as far away from reality as a nightmare and just as scary. For right now all Dick has to worry about is being a squire, going on adventures and learning how to be a great knight! What could go wrong!?
Crown Prince Elroy is fucked. Seriously fucked. The old Crown Prince Oliver saw Roy at an archery competition and decided 'Yeah, that one.' Ollie offered him a room, food and all the arrows he could ever want. When Roy found out that Ollie was taking a page out of Robin Hood's book, Roy was overjoyed. The two of them had a blast stealing from the rich and giving to the poor. It was great! And then Ollie's father, the King, found out. He disowned Ollie, not that Ollie cared, and life went on as normal with one major giant exception. The King didn't have any other children (legitimate children anyway) and Ollie was now disowned. So the King legitimized Roy as Oliver's bastard child and heir. Or, sorry, Elroy because apparently 'Roy' wasn't fancy enough. Now Elroy is the Crown Prince. Elroy is under lock and key so that Ollie can't influence him. Elroy is being forced to study. (The King promised him that this was just to make Ollie see reason but Roy isn't so sure... the King is putting a lot of effort into his training...) The only saving grace is that Roy is being sent away this summer to learn sword fighting. Archery is 'a cowards sport' apparently and Roy 'needs to expand his horizons'. Well.. they certainly agree on that last one. Roy is making a break for it and he's not coming back.
Wally is a young apprentice working for his Uncle Barry. He's learning how to make medicine and treat wounds and find useful herbs. At least, he's learning that sometimes. A lot of his time is spent being a delivery boy. Uncle Barry says that's an important part of any medical treatment, actually delivering the medicine. Wally thinks that he just wants him to burn off energy. Regardless, Wally spends most of his time delivering medicine and he does it well. It helps that he can cross the continent before most people can blink their eyes. He can't tell anyone that though. Barry has made that part extremely clear. As far as their patients are concerned, Barry is a local doctor who just lives outside of whichever town they're in. There's a lot of things Wally can't tell people. Like how his eyes glow and magic lights up on his fingertips when he's excited. Or how he doesn't really like hats, he just has to wear them to hide his slightly too pointy ears. He gets it. He does. He's heard the whispered stories of fae, the hushed talk of changelings, he's read the old cracked tomes on the Elven Folk. He knows what people will think he is. But he isn't. He really isn't. He's just... Wally. And sure, he might be a little bit odd but he's just as human as the next guy, he swears!
Donna finds herself left on the doorstep of the greatest monster hunters in this new world. Garth is accepted to shadow some of the best defense mages ever. Dick finds himself stopping in with some fellow Knights (he is soon to be one after all) on his way home after a particularly hard mission. Roy finds himself shipped off to learn sword fighting from some 'trusted experts'. Wally is on a routine delivery run to drop off some supplies for his Uncle's good friends. Whether it's fate or something far more sinister, they all find themselves at the temple of the Knights of the Emerald Flame. Sir Hal Jordan, who was not ready for the sudden onslaught of children, panics and gives them a mission to get them out of his hair.
The rest, as they say, is history.
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dont-take-me-home · 1 year
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Ted Lasso s03e04 thoughts no one asked for (content warning: I am disgruntled and being a downer)
Ted, just to get it out of the way:
Dear lord, he is so unlikeable this season. Do your fucking job! At least try to do your fucking job! Pretend you’re doing your fucking job? Something? Pretend to care when you are actually on the pitch with your players playing their hearts out (even if they do it badly) and your assistant coaches freaking out because they were doing their desperate best and it wasn’t enough and the fans losing their shit? How long can this man really do zero (0) for his team and not bother to Wikipedia the basics of football and then get to be all paternally smiley and superior afterward somehow because Roy and Beard’s strategy backfired? At least they tried. Fuck you, Ted. And Roy and Beard, grow a backbone FFS. (Also Roy and Beard are portrayed as very incapable here to make Ted look less awful by comparison. I see what you’re doing, script. And I don’t like it.)
This show started out portraying Ted as a martyr in his divorce, yes, but also showing that there’s no guilty parties. And then we got more and more martyr and absolutely no words from Michelle to show that she’s still a kind and fair person. Because she isn’t a person anymore. She’s just someone for Ted to be saintly at. Dear Jason: your self-insert is showing. Have I mentioned the word unlikeable yet?
Sassy is also unnecessarily cruel. She’s always been blunt, but since I know how many puritanical Americans in the fandom dislike her for being a woman who smokes, has casual sex and is not a people-pleaser, I feel like the show is just going along with that now. All the better to portray Ted as a poor little boy that women are so mean to.
Bottom line: THIS IS NOT WRITTEN WELL
Nate:
Look, yes, his scenes were good and if I cared about the big Ted-Nate plotline anymore I would enjoy giving this a good breakdown, but I never enjoyed Nate as a character that much (he’s just SO weak and SO needy and SO makes it everyone else’s problem that I just lose sympathy, sorry, it’s a me thing) and also I don’t care about Ted right now so whatever.
The one joy for me here is 70-year-old Anthony Head getting to play a very sexy villain and having the time of his life with it. Hey daddy. Hey. You are an awful human being. Can I buy you a rich people drink?
Keeley:
Her gentle, gradual realisation that Jamie is not the Jamie she used to know anymore and shouldn’t be dismissed as a football fuckboy was very sweet and a nice payoff for fans. Both Jamie and Keeley deserved that moment.
Her own arc with her PR firm is too rushed to really do anything it’s trying to do. I mean Keeley is always very likeable and we want to be with her when she fights to be respected as a businesswoman but we don’t actually see her working or being good at it -- just having difficulties with her backstabby CFO and her irresponsible underling and saying she wants the president of her VC to find her “mysterious” (what? how about finding you capable? responsible? worth the investment?). So her scenes don’t have any meat to them. (She also looks like a clown not knowing what said president is called or that she’s a woman... wtf?)
I think we’re meant to see some sexual tension between her and Jack? Wouldn’t mind them dating. Wouldn’t mind them being endgame, actually. Keeley isn’t a trophy and she doesn’t owe either of her dumbass exes her love just because they’ve grown as humans (as Jamie already has and I assume Roy is going to before the end of the season).
She’s canonically bisexual whether we see her actually dating a woman or not! Just a reminder.
Bottom line: THIS IS ALSO NOT WRITTEN WELL (mostly)
Rebecca:
Still thinking about Sam. As one would if one had an ex who was beautiful and intelligent and hot like lava and kind and principled and perfect.
Roy and Jamie:
No idea what they’re doing together in their sexy nighttime coaching sessions, frankly. Jamie is in peak physical shape, isn’t he? The last think he would need is more physical exertion fucking up whatever training plan the fitness coaches have for him.
However, I accept the script’s handwavyness about it, because Roy is such a hot mean dom and Jamie is so eager to please him and we got to see Jamie’s butt and we also got to see Roy seeing Jamie’s butt. I’m a simple person.
The himbos:
I want to hug them and put them in one of those heated boxes they use to protect baby chickens. They are too stupid to live. My heart overflows with love. This is a realistic portrayal of footballers.
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gregoftom · 6 months
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please excuse this rant incoming but i just saw an instance of this again and am losing it. so i know we talk a lot of shit on the succ fandom as a whole especially the twt mess side of things but BY FAR the weirdest and most confusing subset of people i have ever been witness to in this fandom are tom stans who hate greg. like okay??? 😭 babes greg is your fave’s fave. tom is so obsessed with greg if he knew what stan culture was he’d call himself a greg stan out of endearment. not to mention the majority of tom’s arc doesn’t happen without greg, and so many of their scenes are together. like are they just completely miserable every time greg is with tom which is most of it?? the petty part of me hopes so. the petty part of me also wins bc tom canonically loves greg and CHOSE him. tom reveres greg and that’s that. (not to mention they’re equally as bad as each other so anyone who hates greg on the grounds of him being morally reprehensible while excusing tom who doesn’t have any higher ground to stand on and in fact is the reason for a lot of greg’s less desirable actions. make it make sense)
bruh what.... i mean okay if you hate one of the most important developmental factors and literal key parts of your fave's character. like, you don't have like greg in particular but to particularly detest him when you're a tom stan is just weird. and to get upset when greg is with tom is just laughable bc flash news - tom wants greg with him! like! all the time! if you want to see tom like. you are Gonna see greg. because a huge part of tom's like aims and goals esp by s4 is to keep greg close by. so like. lol. you should at least try to accept him because he's not going anywhere wrt tom. they are intrinsically linked. there's a reason they are literally the most long lasting relationship on the show.
and don't even SPEAK to me about that how tf could people excuse tom while chatting shit about greg in that department that is just ridiculous. i don't like to play moral olympics here bc this is the bad people show and everyone is corrupt but if we're really gonna go down that road you want to tell me greg is "worse" than tom when tom is the one who foisted cruises on greg in the first place? when tom, albeit with love in his heart for shiv, was using her to get ahead and be a part of the roy family when he really didn't need to? [greg's reasoning was. he was fucking homeless and penniless lmfao and the line between being rich and being poor is so paper thin for him] when tom has treated his employees like human furniture? when tom has tormented greg physically and psychosexually? and exactly like a lot of greg's actions are because of tom in the first place! like i love my homie too, tom is my favourite as well but like. don't be daft lmao. let's not lie, shall we?
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themovieblogonline · 7 months
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“Coal Miner’s Daughter” (1980): Country Music Legend Biopic as Love Story
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Coal Miner's Daughter is the rags-to-riches story of legendary country music singer Loretta Lynn. The film covers the Kentucky native’s early teen years in a poor family, getting married at 15, and her rise to become one of the most influential country musicians of all time. Based on Lynn's 1976 biography of the same name by George Vecsey, the movie stars Sissy Spacek in an Oscar-winning performance as Lynn. Tommy Lee Jones, Beverly D'Angelo, and Levon Helm all shine in key supporting roles. Country music icons Ernest Tubb, Roy Acuff, and Minnie Pearl deliver cameo appearances as themselves. https://youtu.be/V8I2cF51Npc "Coal Miner's Daughter" (1980): Country Music Legend Biopic as Love Story Films that Forever Matter Series by John Smistad I had this good friend in college. Julie. Kinna flighty. Okay. WAY flighty. But super fun. One of the joys of life Julie and I really liked to share was scoping out a new release movie in a theater. On this one occasion we were in a Houston area mall looking for a flick to catch. Which one? Hmmm. A promo poster suddenly caught our eye. Looks good we agreed. So “Coal Miner’s Daughter” it would be. My cinematic enthusiast life was just about to be changed forever... "I wouldn't be here if it wasn't for you." Loretta Lynn (Sissy Spacek, in a simply stunning Oscar-winning tour de force) speaks these words of gratitude to her husband Doolittle (Tommy Lee Jones) deep into the 1980 biopic "Coal Miner's Daughter". It's a classic case of "Be careful what you wish for...for you will surely get it!". At this point in the story country music legend Lynn is being run ragged on the road. And the merciless treadmill wouldn’t stop until she succumbed to a complete nervous breakdown on stage.   At the same time, her hubby is drinking himself into oblivion. “Doo” feels there’s nothing else to do, having done his job as the driving force in pushing his sweet singing wife to superstardom. Incidentally, Spacek herself performs all of the Loretta Lynn country music classics we hear in the film. And she is consistently right on note.) "Coal Miner's Daughter" is a captivating chronicle One of striving to reach your dreams, surpassing even your wildest ones, crashing to the ground in a frightening nose dive, and then fighting back to redeem what once was. And may never have been again. But above all else, it is a glorious love story. The Lynn's are a true husband and wife team. This couple come to realize that all the fame and fortune in the world really doesn't mean a damn if you lose yourself, and those you love, to get there. And, moreover, to stay there. Personal Memory... I’ll never forget Julie tightly clutching my left arm for dear life during the entirety of an unexpectedly jarring wedding night scene in a roadside hotel room. The bruise didn’t last. The intense emotion of the moment has. Video Review of STEVEN SPIELBERG’S Directorial Debut “DUEL”! On my YouTube Channel now @ this link: JOHN SMISTAD, “THE QUICK FLICK CRITIC”, talks Steven Spielberg’s Highway of Horrors Classic “DUEL”!! – YouTube Read the full article
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girlypsyop · 10 months
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I'm going crazy I need somebody to read this conversation I overheard on an airplane in 2022. I totally forgot about it until I found it while going through my notes.
It is a bit long but it was just so surreal and beautiful and something something humanity ok?
u ever just overhear one of the most touching interactions of your life in the back of a airbus a320
So I'm gna explain this really bad and it was kind of a "had to be there" situation but just imagine a completely dark airplane, no lights, no open windows, except a single one in the row behind you
In that aisle there's a middle-aged man sitting on the aisle. He is traveling alone. 2 women are sitting next to him
Across the aisle from them are 3 guys
So this middle aged guy. his name is Roy:)
He sits down next to the two woman and as we are shuttling to the runway, he asks if they can open the window because it's his very first flight.
They open the window
They ask him about his destination
He says he's going to Chicago when the plane starts taking off. He YELLS "Woah! Full throttle baby!" (Imagine this in the most southern accent you've ever heard)
Everyone in the back 3 rows cracks up
He laughs and says "yall got your windows closed? Not the least bit curious about what in the hell just happened?"
Everyone at a window seat who could hear him opened their window for a bit
For a while he points out things in the window.
"First time I stepped outta my podunk little town and saw the city it seemed so massive. Just... skyscrapers you have to crane your neck to look at, I'd never seen anything like it. But look at it... you can see the entire city from up here. Look at those teeny tiny little buildings."
....
"Are all those squares down there farms?"
"I think so yea"
"....if aliens ever visit they're gonna think someone got to us first"
....
"I thought there'd be more trees. There are trees everywhere where I'm from. I mean ive seen pictures of deserts and whatnot. Just never seen it with my own two eyes. How do people live like that"
"well it is January. Maybe they're all just dead"
"Oh right. No shit............. that's worse somehow."
....
"This is gonna be a stupid question but is that a cloud down there? Or just fog from a different angle or something, I dunno! Nothing looks like it does down there, I don't trust my own eyes"
"Yes its a cloud"
"That is so awesome. I was hoping we'd see some clouds. I looked up pictures on the internet, but they don't compare to the real deal"
After that he gets a bit nervous, says he doesn't like how the plane feels so still, as if we aren't even moving. He asks if we get drinks on this flight, they say yea usually. He tells them to wake him up when it happens.
When the attendant is a few rows ahead of him, they wake him up. He asks them if they've got bourbon. They laugh and say "not for the poor people" then they ask him if he likes ginger ale he says
"I mean sure"
"If you like ginger ale you'll love it on an airplane"
"Why in the... why the hell does it make a difference on a plane?
"I don't know, the carbonation the ginger it settles your stomach. And it just tastes better somehow. Trust me, it's almost a tradition."
"Well gee there's something you don't read about.. ginger ale on airplanes.."
...
He gets the ginger ale
"It tastes like a ginger ale"
"Yea but it's ginger ale on a plane!"
"If you say so"
A few minutes later he says
"Yknow maybe my expectations were just too high. I was expecting it to taste like. I dunno God's spit or something."
The guys across the aisle lose it
"Man that's what I'm calling airplane gingerale from now on. God's spit"
He goes back to sleep after that. As we start our initial descent he wakes up. one of the girls asks where's he's from
"Lousiana. Small town, I never left it once."
"Wow you must have really loved it"
"Ha. Something like that. I'm a rehabilitation counselor there. Have been for 3 years. Got a big fancy promotion last year, now I'm a bit of a team leader. Who would have thought. Have to wear a tie and everything. Never pictured myself someone's boss. Normally I'm... normally I'm the one quittin after a few months and slashin the boss's tires"
"Oh yea? You ever piss someone off enough to get your own tires slashed"
"Not yet but a man can dream"
A minute passes
One of the guys across the aisle, he's wearing a tie tells roy
"I was in and out of rehab for nearly my whole life. What a thankless job, nobody likes you until long after they've left"
"Ah well. We don't do it for the thanks. It's rewarding to see people turn their lives around. Not all of them not even most of them. But every now and then...."
"Well I hope you know even the ones who don't quite make it are just grateful someone gives a shit about them, even if they're being paid to."
"Oh I'm well aware son. I'm In recovery myself. It's why I could never leave my town. My mom died birthing me and my dad... well it's hard for him. He's got health problems and head problems probably. I think losin her really fucked him up. He did what he could but.... Well I don't wanna bring down the room.....bringing down this particular room would be terrorism I think"
I died at that one
"This is the first time in my life I've had a paid vacation. I never married or had kids and. Well I'm taking this trip for me, but those folks back in the facility are what push me to do this. It's hard sometimes to convince them it's worth it to cross the finish line when I can't show em proof of a better life."
"So why chicago?"
"Well... I never said it out loud but I used to read about those old prohibition bars. Those were big in Chicago. I always wanted to go. Secret entrances and passwords and all that. So I looked it up and there's some those old speakeasies that you can still go to. It's a bit kitch
....
"My ears hurt real bad don't they control the pressure in these tin cans?"
"I guess not very well. Try opening your mouth a bunch it'll pop your ears"
"That's.. disturbing"
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canuck-eh · 1 year
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random thought … which seasons would you include in your top 5 looks for hotch? 🤭
- 🪐☁️
MINORS DNI - 18+ Seriously. Stay away.
Hi, dear! It's lovely to see you here again! 💕
So I have a slightly controversial take here. Ready up, buttercups and get comfortable because I won't shut up about the guy!
Let me just say before I start rambling that I love Aaron Hotchner (obviously) and I found him attractive from the very start but it’s the grumpy act that got me feeling like I should question my sanity.
As for seasons/top looks, I’ll be honest and share a bit of the controversy I have started in some circles… While I loved him in season 7, I prefer his cheeks to be more cheeky? By that I mean that I loved seeing his dimples easily when he smiled but he looked too thin where his face was concerned. That’s a matter of personal preference but I like his full cheeks. I like the idea of having my hands full with his cheeks 🤨 Don't read into that.
Now as for my personal take, S4&5, the unhinged era and the after-Haley era were among my favourite looks. Season 4 had moments that had me 🥺👀🥵🔥. I know how I felt when he was trying to save Kate, and when I saw him hurt or the whole thing with his ear… Poor baby deserved someone to take care of him!
Season 4 also got us the snow scene/gif™️ and I wasn’t emotionally ready to see that. I legit started to imagine things happening outside in the snow 👀 Okay...
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Moving on before I lose it. 🥲
I would have to say that S8&9, as he regained his full cheeks and started looking more and more like he was about to enter his dad bod era, it really made me feel things! Route 66, seeing him in that episode… Heck, I knew there wouldn’t be a day when I wouldn’t think about or obsess over our man! I just wanted to lie in that hospital bed with him when he woke up and never let go! The whole dream thing must have been very traumatizing to say the least, and he deserved all the care and love and sweetness in the world, but like, if I have to focus on the real world (because I should), he looked amazing in that episode.
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My last choice would have to be either the very early seasons with the hair (because let’s admit it, it looked good) but I always saw Aaron as keeping his hair short from there on out because it marked the end of his boyish good looks. It was the end of his innocence. Maybe I'm reading too much into this. But I guess he became a father too, so he realized the world was full of dangerous people and he was bringing a human being into a f***ed-up world. I don’t know. To me, it made sense that he let his hair grow a few times but it never went back to the full fluffy look. It’s like his suits. I won’t go too much into symbolism and symbols, but I’ve always thought he never got his hair to grow back as long as it was then because it wasn’t who he was anymore. He wasn’t naïve anymore, he wasn’t as eager or as blinded by his job. He was still hard-working but he understood the full weight of his responsibilities somehow and the realities of his job made him realize a part of him needed to give to stomach the job.
I know I'm rambling and I'm going to keep going! I loved seeing more frown lines on his face as the seasons went on. Like it’s something I find attractive so early season 1 was a great look, but I like to imagine him with more lines on his face. Anyway, I need to focus. Like I said, either that fluffy hair look or him in season 10 when his dad bod... 💘(Don't get me started on S11, I'm not equipped to be appropriate about this one. I can’t even mention it for your own good).
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So of course his broad shoulders and large chest are infinitely attractive but seeing him in tight shirts, the tight blue shirts especially… Woof! Oh and... The polo shirts! To be honest, I already know how to play golf but teach me my good sir! 👀
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I legit had to pause one time (I’m lying, it was more than once) when I first watched CM because I couldn’t handle all that hotness… Like the episode with Roy had me 😍🥵🧎🏼‍♀️
Look at him...
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So I’m not good at answering this because I’ve always liked him but my controversial take (finally) is that although many people I’ve spoken with seem to love him in S7, it was my least favourite look because I like his cheeks fuller. I like feeling like I’ve earned his dimples when I make him smile in one of my fics because they’re not apparent from the get-go necessarily. I never write him with S7 in mind (sorry y’all). The only thing in S7 that had me question my sanity was the beard and he should’ve kept it, but again, it would’ve looked even better had he had rounder cheeks.
Don't get me wrong, I like him in shape enough to… 👀 but not so much that I can’t pinch his cheeks or the love dough™️ around his midsection!
All in all, I’m a sucker for the little belly, aka the soft shell when you touch him which is in direct contrast with what you’d first expect, and I love the tight shirts and full cheeks! I’d run my hands through his hair regardless of what it looked like anyway. Also… His eyes are very special but don’t get me started on his eyes because this will never end.
I'll leave you with two things I go back to a lot, for scientific reasons.
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So that’s not much of an answer, I know! But thank you for being here and letting me ramble on and on about my favourite fictional man because I’ll never tire of admitting I want and need a Hotch!
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multimilfs · 3 years
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Miranda Priestly x Fem!Reader: A Little Nudge
Summary: Anon requested “Could I request a slightly angsty Miranda Priestly X Reader? Maybe the reader is in the hospital (it's up to you why they're there) and they're panicking because they think they're gonna get fired. Miranda can replace them within the hour, after all.Miranda shows up to the hospital after hearing what happened and reassures Reader that they're fine. She confesses to the Reader because she was so scared something horrible had happened to them and she was gonna lose them. (sorry im just in a sad mood and im weak for hospital scenes)”
A/N: It’s been ages since I’ve written for TDWP so be kind to me, please! I really hope you like it!
Tag List: @ghostsunderstoodmysoul​ @multifandomfix​
Warning(s): None
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“Why is nobody ready?”
Miranda drawled from behind her desk, glancing at her watch with annoyance. Everyone near her held their breath; nobody having the guts to tell her that it was because you weren’t back yet. 
You were supposed to be back with the accessories from D&G ten minutes ago.
Jocelyn and the run-through team exchanged terrified glances. Someone was going to lose their job today. And knowing Miranda, it was going to be one of them.
They had been relying on the accessories to complete the outfits they’d prepared. An abysmal thing to do, but you’d promised that you would be back early. Now you were nowhere to be found.
Miranda was conveniently unaware of your absence. She was under the impression you weren’t supposed to be back for some time, thanks to a few carefully worded statements from Nigel. If she got wind that you’d gone awol, it’d be hell on earth for everyone in the Runway offices.
Standing beside Miranda’s desk, Nigel saw Serena approach the office. The model stopped when Nigel shook his head. Her eyebrows furrowed in confusion.
“Talk to Emily.” He mouthed silently.
She did just that, turning elegantly on her heel to see the Brit dialing numbers frantically. Poor Emily hadn’t even noticed that Serena was there.
“Why is Nigel telling me to talk to you?” Serena asked softly.
Emily startled slightly, before looking relieved to have some type of help. She put the phone down on the hook quickly.
“Y/N has vanished,” Emily whispered, “I can’t get her to answer her bloody cell phone and she was supposed to be here ages ago!”
“What do you mean she vanished? She doesn’t vanish.” Serena asked.
“You’re telling me. Jocelyn needed the accessories from the winter collection for the run-through and she promised to have them here. Miranda is two minutes from firing them all if we don’t come up with an excuse.”
Emily let her head fall into her hands, repeating her low mantra that she loved her job. Today was not going to be an easy one, it seemed.
A moment before Serena could suggest anything, Miranda’s cold voice echoed from her office.
“So what I’m hearing is that you failed to prepare? After I gave you countless days to finish a simple task.” Miranda asked.
Everyone winced at the chill in her voice. La Priestly wasn’t known for being warm, but this felt like frost-bite.
“We’re just missing the accessories for a few of the outfits.” Jocelyn offered.
Miranda’s hard gaze settled on the girl, making her regret speaking. Drawing attention to herself was the last thing she should have done.
“‘Just’ the accessories,” The editor said dryly, “If you were to go skydiving, I’m sure you’d be fine without a parachute then?”
Jocelyn shook her head quickly. The only way out of this would be for a miracle to strike. She was mentally kissing her job goodbye.
Then Emily’s cell phone rang.
Scrambling for the device, she could have jumped for joy to see your name on the caller ID. She was furious, mind you, but glad to see you were okay.
“Where the bloody hell are you?” Emily hissed in lieu of a greeting.
“Em, I can explain-“
“I’m sure you can, but it better be good or I’m throwing you La Priestly.”
“I’m in the hospital.” You said.
Emily inhaled sharply. She didn’t miss the way your voice cracked over those few words. It may mean more work for her, but an injury like that could cost you your job.
“What did you get yourself into?” Emily asked.
“The heat today exascerbated something and I collapsed, the doctors are running tests now.” You explained softly, lacking the energy you normally had.
Serena watched worriedly as Emily put her forehead down on the desk, letting out a defeated sigh. This felt like the icing on the cake of an already terrible day. She had no idea how to break it to Miranda. The woman was practically reliant on you and your abilities.
“Em?” You whispered over the line brokenly, “Tell Miranda I can have my desk cleared once I’m d-discharged, okay? I understand-“
“No. You-You don’t get to abandon me so close to Paris. I’ll find a way to fix this…”
“It’s okay. I understand what it takes to be one of Miranda’s girls. Collapsing on the job isn’t part of the description.”
“She can make an exception.” Emily snapped.
You sighed on the other end. It broke your heart that you’d probably lose everything now, but you understood that Miranda was far too busy to accept an injured assistant. Even if you did hope that she cared enough to keep you on.
“Do what you can, okay? Just don’t get yourself sacked. I’m at Presbeterian, room 311.”
There were a few more words exchanged before Emily hung up the phone, looking hard at Serena, who stared back with concern.
“Y/N is in the hospital.” She said quietly.
Serena stood with a look of shock on her face. What could have happened to put you in the hospital?
“How are you going to tell Miranda?” She asked instead.
“Beats me, but someone has to.” Emily laughed bitterly.
She stood and walked to the doorway of Miranda’s office, where the woman was regaling Nigel with the incompetence of her staff, who were standing in the room. Nigel noticed Emily and raised an eyebrow in question, to which she shook her head. His face seemed to pale.
Unsure of what to do or say, Emily remained standing in the doorway. She kept her hands clasped in front of her to keep from ringing them.
“Is there a reason for your hovering, Emily?” Miranda asked, her icy gaze resting on her poor assistant.
“Um, well.” She tried, but nothing came out. She froze.
“Do take your time. None of us have jobs to do.”
The editor rolled her eyes, a devious smirk resting on her face. She drew a sort of horrible glee from seeing her employees squirm.
“Y/N is in the hospital.” Serena said.
Any movement in the room stopped immediately. The run-through team held their breath, looking to Miranda.
Upon hearing the words, Miranda felt her heart drop into her stomach. Her hands gripped the edge of her desk hard. Besides something happening to her daughters, something happening to you had become her worst nightmare.
“Excuse me?” She asked, tone just above a whisper.
“She’s conscious, she called to let me know herself where she was,” Emily rushed out, before anyone could make the situation worse, “Something occurred that caused her to collapse, but-“
“I’ve heard enough.”
Miranda was out of her seat the second Emily mentioned that you were awake. That you weren’t gravely injured or in a coma. Her fear eased slightly, but it wouldn’t vanish until she saw you. She was barreling through the office without a care for what was on her agenda.
“Cancel any meetings for the rest of the day and get Roy here immediately. I want access to her room upon my arrival; I don’t care what favors you have to promise or whose egos you have to stroke, get me into that room.”
She snatched her coat and purse from Serena’s hands, rattling off the demands without slowing her pace. Then she was ensconced in the elevator while everyone looked at one another in shock.
“Do you think she’s going to fire her?” Emily asked Nigel, who laughed.
“I think that is the last thing she plans on doing. Now I’d get on the phone with Roy…”
Eyes widening, Emily let out a yelp, rushing towards her desk. Nigel just shook his head; of course Miranda would hold out on her feelings until you fell injured. She apparently just needed that final nudge. 
———
In your hospital room, you were trying valiantly to hold back tears. Your head was leant back against the pillows, eyes closed. All you could see was Miranda’s face in your mind.
You weren’t sure what happened; one second you were walking down 35th, the next a paramedic was standing over you hounding you for information. If you hadn’t been in an ambulance racing through traffic, you would have demanded they let you out. You had a job to do.
Now, you couldn’t. You had let down the editorial team and Miranda by proxy. It hurt you in a million different ways, but you accepted that you were out of a job. That you would no longer spend the days around the woman you secretly loved.
It sent a pang of pain through your chest. You squeezed your eyes shut against it. Remaining strong, even now, was important to you. It wouldn’t do to let your resolve crumble.
Absentmindedly, you heard someone walk into your room. You let out a loud sigh.
“Look, doc, I told you I’m fine. My head may be throbbing, but I’m not going to die on you. Though I may if I don’t get something other than hospital food.” You laughed.
“I’m sure that can be arranged.”
You snapped your eyes open at the voice that was clearly not your doctor’s. Standing there, looking divine as ever, was Miranda Priestly. The woman you were hopelessly in love with.
“Miranda?”
“No, Donald Trump.” She deadpanned, a smirk pulling at her mouth.
Did Miranda Priestly just make a joke? Your mind asked, though you couldn’t stop the grin that spread on your face. She looked pleased at your reaction.
“You didn’t have to come all this way, you know,” You said softly, reality creeping back in, “I told Emily that I could have my desk cleared as soon as they discharged me.”
“I beg your pardon?” Miranda said, feeling as if the breath had been stolen from her lungs.
“I know how busy your schedule is- Hell, I arranged it. You didn’t have to come all the way here to let me go.”
“Is that why you think I’m here? To fire you?”
“...Isn’t it?”
Miranda let out a hollow sounding laugh, pinching the bridge of her nose. You watched her with thinly veiled confusion. Then she walked to your bedside, hesitantly placing her hand on top of yours. Your heart stopped.
“Silly girl,” Miranda said softly, “Do you think I would come here for something as menial as that? Do you think I’d race here, heart pounding with fear, to fire you?”
You felt like you were in a dream. Given that you were in a hospital, it didn’t seem too outlandish that you were imagining it. But when Miranda leant in and placed a soft kiss on your lips, you knew this was reality. This was no mere dream.
She made to pull away from you, offended at your lack of response, but you wouldn’t let her. Grabbing the lapels of her blazer, you dragged her lips back to yours for a long kiss.
When you finally separated, you felt like you were riding a cloud. This was never what you expected to happen. It was wilder than your wildest dreams.
“So… I take it I’m not fired?” You asked with a cheeky smile.
And so overcome with happiness, Miranda let her normal mask drop, throwing her head back and letting out a joyful laugh.
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zombifish · 2 years
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“I could just use a hug.”
This one goes out to all the ‘Ed gets kidnaped and Roy goes dad crazy’ fic writers, yall are a hoot and I love ya. 
-
When Edward Elric was younger he liked to pride himself on being independent. That he could handle himself, and take care of his little brother Alphons Elric. Stand on his own two feet and try to be that pillar of support. 
Unfortunately, this became a far greater challenge upon the passing of their mother Trisha Elric. If you were wondering about the boy’s father, well he up and left a long time ago. So with an absent father and a mother now six feet under with no other living relative they know of,  it left the two boys alone. Only ever being checked upon by the Rockbells, a family friend. Occasionally (that’s a lie, it’s always) going over for a meal or any other necessity that didn’t revolve around alchemy. Speaking of which, about a year after their mother’s passing they met Izumi Certus- a housewife and a powerful alchemist, but most importantly a housewife. 
She taught them not only alchemy but how to defend themselves. Looking back on it, despite how terrifying that woman can be, she really was like a second mother to the two even if they, more so Edward, wouldn’t admit it (the same applies to Sig Certus, Izumi’s husband, next to Mr. Rockbell he showed them what a true father looked & acted like.) 
After a year with their monster of a teacher, the two blonds were back home and ready to commit the ultimate taboo. 
Human Transmutation.  
-
Another bust! Damn it stupid Mustang and his stupid false leads! 
At this point he’s just having them deal with the shit he didn’t want to deal with, the lazy bastard. 
Edward Elric - The Fullmetal Alchemist, Hero of the People was seething. 
Since losing his leg in the taboo and his right arm to bind his brother’s soul to a suit of armour since Alphons lost his whole ass body to fucken Truth. (a bastard Ed just wants to punch silly-Mustang being the first, tied with Hohenheim that is)
Making his way through central headquarters Edward arrives at the front of Mustang’s office, Alphons having gone back to the barracks. Before he can kick the poor door in he spots a note tacked on it. 
Okay, that’s odd, that like never happened before, not even when they were stationed in Eastern Commanded, what the fuck is happening? Did something happen to the office and they had to relocate temporarily? 
Fullmetal, 
If you’re reading this, it means we haven’t come back yet.
The team has been dispatched to XXX. 
You can leave your report on my desk and take the rest of the day off. If we’re not back by the following afternoon it would be appreciated if you could meet us at our location. 
- Colonel Mustang 
“Bastard” The blond muttered pocketing the note, and for once entering the office like a normal person, and made his way over the Mustang’s personal office and placed the report neatly to the side. 
It was odd- odd not seeing anyone here. It felt empty.
Empty just like their old house after… 
Shaking his head to rid of old nightmares Edward stretched, some bones popping as he did so. 
‘Damn when did everything get so stiff?’ 
Just as he exited into the main office area the door creaked open, tensing Edward became hyper-aware of his surroundings. Having been attacked more than once in a closed-off space does that to a person, apparently. When the door fully opened it revealed a blue military uniform and a somewhat familiar face. Edward relaxed a little at that, but he was still very aware of his surroundings, not the first time military personnel have tried to lull him into a false sense of security only to strike. 
What can I say? boys got issues. 
“Major Elric! There you are, heard wind that you were back in central.” Ha, now Edward remembered him, all thanks to that scratchy voice of his. Colonel Marks, someone upon first meeting Edward didn’t like. In all fairness, no one on Team Mustang liked the guy, it was clear as day man had a thing against their Colonel, and was too blind to see they had already figured him out. So it was an unspoken rule to just avoid him, the same applies to all military officers that rub any of the team the wrong way(and to beat the ever-loving hell out of the ones that so much as look at Edward the wrong way but shhhhh the golden boy doesn’t know that rule) 
“Colonel Marks, is there something I can help you with?” Edward said, his voice indifferent not wanting to make his distaste for the man known just yet. 
“Yes, in fact, there is! One of my subordinates came across a strange-looking alchemical formation earlier this week.” ok that was interesting.
“And you want my help? Can you just take it over to one of the research labs for something? ``A valid question, after all the military's research labs, would be more suited to handle this than some random state alchemist. 
"Ha well, we actually did! But they were preoccupied with more important things" Okay bullshit, Edward has checked out the labs and they have nothing remarkable going on(especially since the Tucker incident). Best to say no to this guy and be on his way. 
"Sorry Colonel, but I can't help. My superior is off on a mission with the rest of the team and left instructions for me to stand by" not a total lie. Mustang’s note said he had the rest of the day off and should meet up with them at their location tomorrow afternoon if they are not in by then. Besides this left him and Al a good chunk of time to research the philosopher's stone, he wasn't going to waste it doing work for another Colonel. Mustang may be a bastard but he's Edward's bastard and will only report to him, the General and King Fuhrer Bradly himself, not some random Colonel with an inferiority complex. 
"Are you sure?" Marks pushed, Edward walked past him to the exit of the office. 
"Yes I'm sure, now if you'll excuse me I actually have to leave now my brother is waiting for me" 
As Edward stepped out into the hallway, making his way to the barracks the creeping sensation of some kind, like the one when you're being followed but you're not totally sure riddled his anxiety. As the Blond picked up the pace, he rounded the corner and something hit him dead in the face, causing the Fullmetal Alchemist to blackout. 
-
Did they really have to call in military enforcement for a protest? A god be damned protest! It’s not like these people were rioting; they had poorly made signs for heaven’s sake. And being forced to spend the better part of a week watching in case it did turn violent? What in the actual fuck was the General thinking giving them this assignment. 
THEY WERE PROTESTING FUCKING MEAT FOR FUCKS SAKE! 
Fucking hell man these are mostly vegans and animal rights activists, the MP’s should be handing this not the fucking military, let alone a state alchemist! 
Needless to say, the great Flame Alchemist was seething. The only thing that made it worth it was not doing paperwork-then again he’d have to write a report to hand it in. 
Fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuck.
(no disrespect to vegans or animal rights activists(the VeganTeacher is the exception)- it was just the first thing that popped into my head) 
At least he can make fun of Fullmetal, that’s always a win. 
Speaking of the pipsqueak, where is he? They had just entered Central Command and were making their way back to their designated office space, and it was just about noon, they should have caught the brat if was making his way over to check for them, well that or he was in the office waiting to see if they’d come back but knowing the blond he would hold himself up in either the library or dorm with his brother and a mountain of books and scattered paper before realizing what time it was and scrambling to follow his commanding officer’s orders unless he wished to be court marshalled. Not that Roy would actually do that, as much as he pretends the older alchemist has a soft spot for the younger. And if anyone dares bring it up, pray that they are fireproof. 
Upon entering the office Roy was surprised to find it empty, as everyone filed in and got cozy, finishing off any conversation in preparation for writing the report due later in the week. 
Okay maybe he missed Fullmetal because of how small he is, so he peaked back outside, not seeing his major concern start to rise. Despite Edwards' abrasive nature, he’s never more than a few minutes late to something. 
‘Kids probably sleeping in just to spite me’ Roy reassured himself after all this wouldn't be the first time, then again the last time this happened Edward ended up getting kidnapped and almost smuggled over the border by spies. Okay so maybe there was something to worry about.    
Just as Roy was about to call in Fullmetal’s absence the clanking of armour caught his attention. Oh, thank GOD, Alphonse! And where ever the youngest Elric is the oldest is sure to be with him. Unfortunately instead of the office door getting kicked in like it usually does when Edward’s in, it was opened like, like when Al had to drop in and deliver field reports when Ed wasn’t able to. Sure thoughts days are far few and in-between, and Roy means far like it only ever happened maybe three or four times in the last two years. 
“Colonel Mustang? Have you seen Ed? He didn’t come back to the dorm last night.”  
Aww shit 
-
When Edward woke up, he had a splitting head ake. 
‘Son of a bitch by head’ as the blond started to gain focus in his sight. With each blink, Edward became more and more aware of his surroundings. As he was getting his sight back in working order, Edward started listening, for well anything that could give him a hint as to what was going on. 
“Well well well, it seems that the Fullmetal brat is finally awake” Colonel Marks, that damn bastard! How dare he- FUCKING HELL MAN Edward knew that colonel was up to something but kidnapping a State Alchemist? REALY?! To hell with the military the second Edward gets back he’s transmuting all the uniforms pink- then again that might be an improvement-
“So, what ya want?” Ed asked a hiss of curses hot on his lips.
“...no what’s happening? What are you going to do to me?” Marks inquired now genuinely confused. Edward gave him a dry look.
“Not the first time I’ve been Kidnapped you, shithead, now answer my question what the fuck do you want from me?!” 
Recovering from his confusion, Marks backhanded the boy.
“Shut up! I’ll be asking the questions here!” 
‘Welp I didn’t miss the physical abuse that comes along with kidnapping’ 
“Now, what did I need for you? Oh, that’s right! I’m sure you remember Dr. Tucker”
“Ya, how could I forget…” 
“Well before the military archived or destroyed his documents I stashed a few. And I must admit Dr. Tucker was an ingenious man- but his taste in test subjects is left to be desired” Marks walked off to the side, Edwards gaze followed him as Marks stopped at a nearby table. Marks picked up a stick, examining it. Despite the lighting, Edward was able to see a chunk of chock secured on top. 
I think we can guess where this is going.
“Using regular average people, and regular almost common and unintelligent animals, bah what a waste! What about the real animals the rare and exotic kind? The ones that have greater brain function!” as Marks made his speech he waltzed over to a switch, and flipped it, turning on the lights. BlinkingEdward’s eyes finally adjusted to the light, and his ears were met with the sound of several different animal cries. 
“And what batter human test subject to fuse them with than a Prodigy?” 
‘fuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuck’ Edward swallowed heard. It took everything to keep his breathing even, to not show fear. 
Back when Tucker had fused Nina and Alexander(the dog) there was a nagging part of him that always questioned why Tucker didn’t use him as a subject for his experiments? In fact, if Tucker used Edward Nina would be alive! But then, Ed would be…
AGHH this is so frustrating- frustrating and scary, very scary. 
As Marks started making the circle Edward tried formulating a plan. The idiot had left both his arm and leg, sure they were tied down but he could still try to carve an alchemy circle in an attempt to free himself, wouldn’t be the first time but definitely not the last.                       
Just as Edwards had carved out half of an alchemy circle with a screw from his Automail arm, into the backside of the chair he was bound to Marks grabbed the chair’s head and tossed it onto the now complete transmutation circle. The force used tipped the chair on its side causing it to fall side wase and for Edward to his is head on the floor, screw falling loose out oh his hand. 
“Now~ what animal to fuse you with hm?” Despite the throbbing pain in his head Edward was trying his damned hardest the unscrew another bolt. Sinelty prayed to whatever god could hear him,(despite not believing in holy ghost) that this was just a bad dream, that it wasn’t real- that Al would come charging in w-with Mustang and Hawkeye and everyone else that, that he could just escape! Escape this mad man and his deranged experiments!
“Links, bobcats, lions, apes…hmm squid maybe? No, they may be intelligent but one good hit and it’s dead. OH how bought a cheetah! Or or maybe an elephant!” 
“I know, how bought a crow? Common yes but they have great learning capabilities and like parrots can vocalize! I would have actually used a parrot but that shipment came in late and the blasted things ended up dead and I need living test subjects-” Marks continued to ramble as he approached the cage that held the blackbird. As Marks took the bird out of its cage(the poor thing squawking up a storm) inspecting it to make sure its flight feathers had been clipped the door burst open, a pillar of flame erupting from the now doorless entrance as the fire dimmed and the smoke cleared there stood one(1) vary pissed Roy Mustang, hand poised and ready to snap again. 
“Well isn’t this a surprise” Mustang hissed 
“Colonel Marks I’m going to ask you this once let my Major go and ill only burn you a little” And just to be clear when Mustang says ‘a little’ he means A LOT!!
-
When all was said and done Marks was arrested and awaiting trial. Edward was taken to a hospital, despite saying he didn’t need to go to the hospital, to have his injuries looked after.  
Alphonse had stepped out of the room for a little. While he’s glad his brother is safe he for some reason couldn’t help but think that Marks was working with or for someone, so to ease his fear that his brother was being stalked he opted to look around for anyone suspicious. Besides the younger brother, Mustang had opted to say a little longer as well, he was the boy’s legal guardian after all. As an added bonus he gets to slack off from his paperwork! 
“So how are holding up Fullmetal?” 
“...I’m fine”
 Roy let out a sigh, of course, the kid would say that. 
“You know it’s okay if you’re not right? Damn it Ed you were almost turned into a Chimera for crying out loud! By a fellow military personal, no less- doesn’t that bother you at all?” 
Ed just stayed quiet dwelling on his commanding officer’s words. He wouldn’t lie and say it wasn’t scary, it was. If the Team hadn’t arrived when they did Ed wouldn’t be human anymore, or well less human than he already believed himself to be. 
“I-” Roy raised an eyebrow arms crossed as he looked at his subordinate.
“I could just use a hug,” The blond said truthfully.                    
This was supposed to be fluff but here we are-  
Josh, it’s been 7-8 pages on my Dox… that is over 2,500 words! 
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Braaaaaaains...
Jason Todd is legally – and biologically – dead. His family noted his lack of pulse at three in the morning, inside the cave, his body laid out on a table with medical instruments.
No, really, tell him something he doesn't know.
What else crawls out of a grave moaning and groaning?
Or, Jason thought his family full of the world's greatest detectives was smarter than this. Apparently not.
****************************************************************
It had been an ordinary night. Calm. The stage for very little costumed crime and barely more regular, non-insane crime as well. Half the menagerie that made up Dick's loving ragtag bunch of younger siblings had even taken the night off.
Nothing should have make him arrive to silence this thick, to this faint echo of sniffling.
He sprinted after the noise.
Damian's fine, left before me. Duke didn't go out, nor did Steph. Babs spent the evening with Cass in the cave, Tim swept the bowery and said he was going to stop by Jason's place to-
He collided with a shaking, tear stained Tim right outside the medbay.
There was a body on the closest table. Others around it, crying, pacing, muttering in denial.
Dick couldn't look.
No, no, please, please no. I can't do that again. I can't!
Scarred skin, too pale – to be Duke or Cass – by death. His breath hitched. No. He. Fuck.
He knew those scars. Those arms. That chest and that fucking Y from navel to shoulders.
“Dick! Jason... he was...  I found him in his apartment. And I brought him to the cave... but... Jason doesn't have a pulse. He's... cold...”
Dick stumbled.
No.
No, no, no, that... that couldn't be real.
He caught himself on his little brother. Brought himself into a hug too tight, as painful as the arms gripping his ribs and back. A grip meant for a lifesaving light at sea. For a safeline over a ravine.
Twice. He'd lost the same brother twice. And this time, he didn't even have the excuse of inexperience and unstable situations. He... he patrolled the city whilst his brother was dead, completely oblivious to the fact. How could he? How dare he not know?!
“Shh, Tim, I'm here. I'm here.” But not for Jason, whispered a vicious part of him.
“What's all this?”
Dick's heart just about stopped.
Damian stood at the entrance to the lockers' room, uniform folded under one arm, hair slightly damp from a shower and Bat-themed pajamas worn without shame. His mild annoyance was proof he had no idea of the drama that had happened not twenty feet from him.
With reluctance, he let go of Tim, a gentle hand lingering on his shoulder, before he took a few steps toward his youngest, most vulnerable brother.
“D-Dami, I... ”   Damn it, he had to be the one to tell Damian about this. Because otherwise, the person to break the news would be Bruce, and-
Shit.
Bruce.
Oh God. How could they possibly tell him- ? After all their fights, the goddamned shattering that had broken the man he had been, and their last conversations even being more admonishment about protocols that Jason had flippantly disregarded. Bruce would never recover. That was it. The end of Batman.
...But first, God he hated himself, wanted to just curl up in a corner and forget everything, first he had a young brother he needed to talk to. One... one little brother less than just this afternoon.
“Jason... ” He swallowed, his throat tight, his heart in denial, the words so damning, but needing to be said. “Jason did not make it. He... he's dead.”
Damian stayed thoughtfully silent.
Not... not the tearful reaction he had expected, but Damian had grown up surrounded by so much death and horror that he would obviously be guarded. And oh, Dick's heart went to his baby brother, and he truly wished he could
“I do not understand. Why such theatrics for the zombie?”
Dick gasped, knowledge warring with the flash of anger.
“Damian! He's our brother!”
“Did he lose his head?” Damian demanded, and Dick's mind buckled.
“Huh, no, but that doesn't have anything to d-”
“Then, why are you acting so weirdly emotional, Richard?”
Before Dick's temper could catch up to his mouth, the longest and most painful-sounding gasp erupted from the medbay, where, to the general shock of all, Jason's gray-ish body shot upward with both his arms raised.
Electroshocks didn't make you jolt like that.
Electroshocks, in fact, remained in their kit on the other side of the medbay, unused. Because Jason had seemingly been dead long before he had been brought to the cave.
That was roughly the moment when Dick's brain caught up with the first of many hints. Latched onto it with a fool's hope.
“... Damian... When you were calling Jason a 'zombie', what did you mean?”
Damian's brows scrunched up together, a look he meant to be intimidating, but had more in common with a disgruntled kitten. “Exactly that, Richard. Do we not have files on zombies in the computer? Dead bodies walking about animated by unholy powers?”
Jason's not- Dick forced the half formed thought to a halt. For once, he rather wanted to be very, very wrong in how he perceived his family.
“What's with all the noise? Can't someone try to sleep like the dead without screaming?” Jason groused. “Should have gotten myself buried ag-OOF!”
“JASON!” screamed the hysterical teenager that had launched himself at a very lively dead body.
“Huhh? Hi, Timmy?” Jason said blearily, ruffling Tim's hair, eyebags suspiciously prominent. “... Fear gas?”
The blinking slowed, the fog of sleep drifting away as he silently begged the rest of them for an answer.
Happily provided by a still crying Tim. “I thought you were gone!”
“What is dead may never die,” Jason quipped, his mouth twisting in that cocksure grin from his Robin days.
And Dick wanted nothing more than to stop right there, pass out from the relief and joy of his little brother being alive and kicking, but...
But... 
That joke. One of many morbidly unfunny jokes and puns.
Bone-deep fatigue crushed his back. A bitter curse for whatever higher forces messing with them echoed strongly inside his skull, before he gave in to the inevitable and inhaled a few times for patience.
“Jason. We thought you were dead-dead.”
With prickly, hedgehog style affection, Jason pushed Tim back and stood up, stretching. “Come off it, Goldie. I wasn't even decapitated. I mean, if you were really worried, you could have just called a necromancer or something.” His expression hardened. “But if you ever call a necromancer on my ass, I'll shoot your perfect glutes.”
Yup, yup, yup, this is happening.
Tim finally wiped the rest of the tears away, helped by one of Stephanie's handkerchiefs, when he froze. “Wait. Your skin's still pale as a corpse.”
The flicker of amusement in Jason's eyes killed it for Dick.
God, how could they have all been this idiotic? If Wally ever learned about this – Shit, did Roy and Kory know before him?!
They were going to laugh their asses off at him.
Jason, unaware of the world recalibration happening in his poor big brother's mind, shrugged and rolled his shoulders – who creaked suspiciously loudly, more like rusty hinges than normal body parts. “Eh, I'm just a bit hungry. Nothing a meal or two won't fix and get some blood flowing back under my s-”
“You're a zombie.”
They turned toward him.
“Way to cross the finish line on time, Mister Rabbit,” Jason drawled.
Barbara, for once, looked completely unprepared. “A zombie,” she repeated, dazed.
Stephanie's nervous giggle died out when she noticed the lack of humor. “... No!”
Cassandra furiously looked down, muttering in her fist. Duke, by contrast, had the expression of a person stuck in a very awkward nightmare.
Even Jason's good-natured ribbing faded in when faced only with the distant screeched of bats. “... Hm, guys, bats, roostery, parasites and octopi? This is old news. What's with all the... ”
He vaguely gestured at their faces.
“Old news?” Tim rasped like he was being strangled.
“I came back from the dead years ago! Come on! Am I in a parallel universe? Hey, Demon Brat,” Jason called, baffled, “you knew, right? I didn't imagine that, right?!”
“Of course, Todd. Mother informed me of everything. Besides, Grandfather's interest in your state of being was of interest for a few weeks. How could I have been ignorant about your zombified state of being?”
In the corner of his eyes, Dick noticed Tim's, Barbara's and Cassandra's expressions all pinching in displeasure. In a way, Dick was reassured. He hadn't been the target of a family-wide hoax to discredit him as an attentive and loving eldest brother. No, he was just naturally blind, apparently.
“He knew?” Tim growled, like it was a personal failing of the fabric of time and space.
Damian's tone was the exact opposite. “And none of you realized...?”
Dick squirmed. “I... huh... you see...”
His baby brother eyed him, completely unimpressed, and for once after years of partnership, Dick felt he deserved every single ounce of it.
“I see... I shall reevaluate the value of this 'detective training' I've been given if this is the result then,” he said, the nearest thing to completely disavowing his older siblings without saying so.  
In other circumstances, perhaps the others would have demanded that Damian stay and explain, but he suspected the quelling look it would have deserved prevented them. Not one of them spoke until Damian had disappeared upstairs and the elevator doors had closed.
“Jason, since when have you been a zombie?”
Jason blinked, jaw hanging. Juuuust enough for some of the scar tissue on his face to stretch past normal. Why did Dick only notice that now?
“Wait, you're all serious? How could you not know? I told you guys!”
And there was Dick's pride rearing its ugly head, because no, no he had not been told and maybe his deductive skills needed a very complete overhaul, but his memory was still excellent!
“You never said that. Heck, we weren't even talking until two years ago!”
“I literally told you all that I crawled out of my grave by myself, groaning the entire time. No experiment, no Lazarus Pit, just a body waking up in its own coffin and deciding to breathe fresh air. Does that not scream 'zombie' to you?”
They cringed.
“Not the only one that returned from beyond,” Babs mumbled. He could see her pull up the mental list right there.
“I greeted you all last meeting with a 'What's up, my bat folks? It's me, your favorite zombie!'. What did you think that meant?”
“That you're an asshole with a morbid sense of humor?” Stephanie quipped, and Jason momentarily paused his indignation to high five her. Fair's fair.
“Okay, but what about that time I got shot in the chest and I told you all not to worry about it?”
“I just figured you were going to get stitched up by Leslie or yourself, you know, regular bat neuroses,” Tim confessed.
Dick made a mental note to keep a much closer eye on Tim's patrols for the next few months.
“From a bullet chest wound?” Jason asked with an incredulousness that was not at all earned, because he was a freaking zombie!
“I thought your armor had blocked it! The hole wasn't bleeding!” Tim protested, cheeks red and tone defensive.
“Well, yeah,” Jason replied. “I don't bleed. It's like some fruit pulp or something. Ain't coming out if you don't press. My heart's not pumping.”
That's a 'nevermind' on the smoothie I saved for after patrol.
“Well, I know that now,” Tim said.
“I feel like I should write it down on the plaque or something,” Jason still sounded amazed, and might have pinched his arm just to be sure he hadn't been daydreaming, “Like, 'a good soldier AND A VERY DISCRETE ZOMBIE!' in big flaming letters. With a spotlight. And a dictionary opened on 'Zombie' or 'Undead'. You know, just in case the next batbrat to come along needs a few subtle hints about my true nature. What'd you think, Dick?”
He could not have been blushing harder than he currently was. “I think shut up.”
“Of course. What about when I shoved my deadly cold toes at Tim under a blanket?”
“Cold feet.”
“Never eating around you guys?”
“Daddy issues with Bruce,” Barbara deadpanned, and got a sock thrown at her for her honesty.
However, Duke, poor kid, turned green. “Wait, so when you offered me some jellied brain... was that not a death joke?”
Dick's stomach spontaneously shrivelled.
By the grimaces and sharp inhales all around, that was a common reaction.
Then the worst possible thing happened: Jason grinned.
He strutted, all confidence and brashness, and viper-quick, snatched an arm around Duke's shoulder. “Narrows, Nightlight, my tiny bitsy bro, everything I do is a death joke. My very existence laughs at death.”
Inside the batcave, the groaning was long-suffering and shameful.
“But that was actually brains,” Duke countered.
“Yeah. Calf brains. It's a delicacy.”
Tim massaged his forehead. What a mood.
Duke narrowed his eyes. “It was purely for the joke, wasn't it?”
Jason patted him on the back so hard Duke faltered. “One tragically wasted on your obtuse mind. I prefer me some Tête fromagée instead. Less like grainy jello.”
Stone-faced, Barbara wheeled herself toward the batcomputer. There, upon a series of quick clicks, she opened up the Bats's files. “Alright, you had your fun. Do you need to eat brains or are you just the world's least funny meathead?”
“I'm the world's most misunderstood vigilante!” Jason loudly protested, milking their pain for all it was worth. And then some. “But yeah, I do. No grey matter in there” -- he tapped his belly -- “no thinking up here.” -- his skull.
“Need some better quality brains then,” Tim stage-whispered to Stephanie.
Cass pointed the finger at Jason. “No killing for brains.”
Jason's good humor flickered with a flash of green. “Ain't ever done it, never will. It's a matter of morals, not hunger, Cass.”
Dick swooped in that minefield before it exploded.
“Great! Proud of you, Jay! You're the good kind of vegetarian zombie,” he said, putting an arm around his ginormous little brother's shoulders.
Wait a minute...
“Hey, you're older than when you died! Zombies don't age.”
“No, I was thrown into a Lazarus Pit, and the evil waters cured the malnutrition-induced delay on my growth. Haven't aged a day since.”
“I just thought you had a weird babyface thing going on,” Tim said.
Jason's grin turned sardonic. “Quite the opposite, Timber.”
Dick put his head in his hands in some vain attempt to prevent his brain from leaking through his ears.  With his luck, his little brother would 'playfully' eat some of it. “There's no way you look this rugged at biologically sixteen! I refuse to believe that.”
“Can you imagine my power if I'd been allowed to reach my full potential?” Jason leered, eyebrows waggling like waves in a sea at storm. “So many heart attacks.”
Barbara and Cassandra exchanged a silent look, and, after a solemn nod, Cassandra reached up to slap Jason upside the head.
“Thank you, Cassandra,” Barbara told her. “Jason, never do such a thing again.”
The disgruntled groan that followed must have been on purpose, because Jay was indeed an asshole.
“Besides, it's not like the world will ever know,” Tim said, cutting, a smirk hiding by his hand.
Dick really thought his little brother was far too relaxed upon learning that Jason was one with the undead. Sure, they had all encountered various levels of zombies during their missions, from all sorts of oral traditions and cultures, alien viruses and hidden nanobots piloting meat puppets. It wasn't even classified as a nation-wide crisis to encounter free-roaming zombies. But since the chronically unalive individual in question was one of their own, Dick felt he was owed at least a whole evening of frazzled panic and incomprehension for once.
“Oh?” Stephanie instead asked, sensing blood.
Tim shrugged. “Well, you know, no pulse, no blood flow,” he said with an angled eyebrow nodding at Jason's crotch
Stunned silence followed, their expressions varying from disgust, horror, unholy glee and, from Jason himself, wide-eyed shock that his shrimp of a little brother had had the balls to assimilate the zombieness fast enough to mock him for him.
Dick prayed for patience. For fortitude. And for an alternate timeline where he was an only child.
Why, for all the love of cotton candy and professional uncriminal clowns, did Tim put THAT image of Jason inside their brains? What had he done, him, a loving model for all of society, to suffer like this?
Maybe if he asked nicely, Jason would eat the image out of his head. He owed Dick that much after this clusterfuck of a conversation.
“Ooooooooh,” Stephanie crooned, miming getting dunked on. With acrobatics.
Jason huffed. “Like I was ever interested in the first place. I ain't Dick.”
“Okay, no slut shaming or virgin shaming, in fact, no shaming at all, please. In this house, we accept all sexualities, but we don't give out raunchy details about any of it, I only have so much brain bleach.”
“Share?” Duke pleaded in a whisper.
Oh, I wish I could, you young innocent soul.
A few beeps turned their attention back to Barbara and the batcomputer. “Well, that's one long overdue update to Jason's files. Anyone else want to share their 'obvious' medical condition?”
“Excuse you, being dead is not a medical condition.”
“I will make you wish for the peace of the grave, Jason.”
Droplets dripped from nearby stalactites.
A few bats flew overhead.
Jason turned to them like nothing had been said.
“Right. That was fun. Best night of my month. Can't wait to tell the Outlaws.”
Dick resigned himself to a series of unflattering texts by the absolute dickheads that were his second family. He could already tell the messages would blow up his phone to the Moon. 'You didn't know your brother that came back from the dead is a zombie?!'
“Have mercy and wait tomorrow morning?”
That smile could have been great or terrible. “You're lucky I'm in a spectacularly good mood, Dick.”
He had lifted his leg over his bike's seat when Duke was struck by genuine worry.
“Wait. Does Bruce know?”
Jason barked out a laugh.
“Of course he does! God knows he's got some massive blind spots, but he's obsessive, paranoid and I find subcutaneous trackers on me every week. No way he didn't get the hint before now.”
But, as his gaze went over the rest of them, his good cheer dimmed, his grin slipping off his face as surely as a bit of decayed flesh.
“... Right?”
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scorpionyx9621 · 3 years
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Robins at the Airport
So a fun fact about IRL me is that I work in shipping & logistics and I work closely with a lot of the major airlines as both vendors and customers. And it had me thinking. How do the Robins fly? (And no I don't mean with their suits lol)
Also I'm aware that Bruce is a billionaire. Bruce without a shadow of a doubt has not only a private jet but access to a lot of personal travel supplies. That being said, even though some of our boys have definitely flown on Bruce's jet. I have no doubt since most of them are adults now, if they wanna travel they're probably flying commercial.
I'm also a filthy ♌ Leo Sun ♌ and fire signs stereotypically love to travel. So! Here's the Robins and their travel traditions.
Tim Drake
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Tim is interesting because he, like Damian, actually grew up with money. Like. The Drake's were in the same tax bracket as Bruce.
Tim likes to travel and has flown everything from small little turboprops to big commercial jets to his family's and Bruce's private jet.
I feel if Tim is going commercial he's that guy who arrives at the airport 4 hours before his flight. He's catching a 7pm flight? Expect Tim to be there at 3pm.
He's that person who can find an outlet by his gate, get some overpriced airport coffee and/or food at a standard fast food restaurant, and wait down the time for his plane to arrive.
Tim dresses pretty smartly but casually. Usually a button up and some jeans with some tennis or boat shoes that are easy to slip off in security.
I don't think Tim sleeps on planes easily unless it's a red-eye. But he does just spend his time on his phone or on his laptop either watching movies or doing coding to kill time.
Dick Grayson
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Prior to inheriting all that fortune from Alfred Dick loved to travel and loves airports. Both for the people watching and the jet-set atmosphere.
Traveling around alot as a child helped out with that. The Flying Grayson's almost always traveled by car so anytime Dick gets to go on a plane he gets excited.
Dick has a fascination with Technology and I can certainly see Dick being a low-key Avgeek. Seeing how these huge planes carry hundreds of people across the sky through feats of human engineering is something that makes him smile.
That being said Dick is not often on time for traveling. He always either shows up WAY too early or he's sprinting through security because his flight departs in 45 minutes and he just got to the airport.
Hell even when Dick is EARLY he ends up running late for his flights because he always ends up eating at a restaurant/bar post security with the best views of the planes and loses track of time.
Dick has missed many a flight/connection because he gets lost in the moment much fo Bruce's chagrin. Granted dropping a couple hundred to rebook Dick at a moments notice is literally just a minor hindrance for billionaire Bruce Wayne.
That being said, more than once, Bruce has had to call a charter for a private jet to pick up Dick when he got stuck at an airport and he HAD to be on the last flight out from San Francisco to Newark or Gotham.
Dick can sleep on a plane no problem. None. It's one of the few times he does ever get truly good, restful sleep. Much to the shock of everyone.
Dick always wears something athletic for flights. Usually sweats or compression pants and a hoodie with tennis shoes. He always carries his Nightwing outfit in his carry-on though much to the chagrin of his family.
Damian Wayne-Al Ghoul
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BRAT
He's that person I, myself, would hate at an airport. He demands to fly private all the time because he can't be bothered to deal with the riff-raff of us poors.
He gets better as he gets older though. He still demands to fly first class at a BARE minimum and will give Bruce hell for it regardless.
Damian may be a bit snobbish when it comes to trying restaurants but he always wants to eat before he gets on a plane because plane food is gross to him.
He's fine most times though. Like Tim if you plant him in front of an outlet and give him a sketchpad and/or his video games/manga he'll be fine.
On a flight he's always very respectful to the flight staff but he will use them for what they're worth. He takes full advantage of all the perks he's given. He's not old enough to drink but he certainly will take advantage of the snacks he can get (Damian insists on flying Delta because he loves the Biscoff cookies. He doesn't like many sweets, but Biscoff cookies are his weakness.)
Damian is way too vigilant to sleep on a flight. Even if it's a red eye and even if he's flying private. He just can't seem to find a way to be comfortable.
Damian is like Dick, casual and comfortable in dress. It's an airport not a gala.
Jason Todd
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So fun fact: we actually have a canon representation of Jason on a regular flight from Red Hood & The Outlaws!
Boy literally wore a blazer on a flight while Roy wore a freaking Tank Top lmao. And he was uncomfortable with Roy's behaviors but flirted with a flight attendant and one of my personal favorite minor characters/love interests in Red Hood's lore, Isabel Ardila.
Jason is also like Dick in that he actually really enjoys traveling. That being said, being legally dead and not on Bruce's best terms means Jason's a well-versed economy traveler.
I read somewhere that Jason has a small personal fortune from the assassinations he's done. But I think he still chooses to fly economy when he can. He sees flying first class as unnecessary and would rather use airline miles for free tickets than free upgrades.
Is a master of getting crap past the radar (it's called checked bags friends. Also if Jason needs to move heavier firepower he knows it's easier to just ship that shit ahead of him.
He's like Damian in that he gets everything he can out if a service. Free pretzels? You bet. Complementary drink? Give him a coke with extra ice (it's canon he likes extra ice in his drinks)
He's always extra nice and polite to all the flight staff and any TSA he sees because Jason knows he's a monster and has to work extra hard to blend in.
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themaribatpit · 3 years
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Jasonette July Day 20: Then Perish
Written by: The Maribat Pit @jasonette-july-event​ Prompt: Then Perish (Part 1) Rating: M (violence, minor character deaths) A/N: We wanted to finish Jasonette July with a bang.  The second half will be posted tomorrow for the Saturday Challenge.  We’ve appreciated all your comments and kind words, we really do read every one. It genuinely means a lot to us and encourages us to continue writing together.  As a fandom you have been nothing but kind and supportive, and we enjoy bringing you fics great and small with a wide variety of genres, dynamics, and iterations.  Also blame DC fanboy for the memes in this fic. Marinette loved to travel, she had traveled all over the world from New York to Shanghai. Today, she traveled with her parents to Gotham City to visit her parents' friends, whom they had not seen in many years. Sabine was initially afraid to visit Gotham City, due to its crime rate and ever-growing list of criminals. Tom reassured his wife, saying that his big stature would scare any would-be criminal from harming them, that the trip would be short and they would visit Metropolis afterwards. Marinette wore the Ladybug Miraculous, just in case something were to happen. As the family got off the taxi at Park Row, everyone felt something was off. "Park Row really has...changed." Thomas muttered. Sabine held on to both her husband and her daughter, "I think we should leave." she said. Soon shadows began appearing around the corner, then came the yelling, and soon after came the gunshots. Thomas grabbed his wife and daughter and ran to find shelter from a hail of bullets. Marinette looked back to see many civilians, men, women and children caught in the middle of this gang war.  She needed to be a hero, her father could take care of her mother, she needed to save those in danger. She freed herself from her father's grasp and ran behind a corner, she whispered "spots on" and transformed into Ladybug. Diving and flipping across streaking bullets everywhere, she flung her yo-yo to drag any unfortunate bystanders into an abandoned building. While in a building with innocent civilians, she peeked her head out the window to see a monstrous man.  Wearing a blood red helmet and wielding two pistols, he systematically killed everyone before him. His flips and kicks were graceful yet brutal, the cries of pain and pleas for mercy made her shudder. She couldn't fight him, no, she was afraid to. It would be best to find her family, she did all she could and got bystanders to safety. She quietly transformed back into Marinette and went to look for her family. She ran back to where she last saw them, she scoured the streets shouting "Maman! Papa!" hoping that using her French would help her parents find and identify her. She soon ran into the Red Beast, as she began to turn and run back before she saw the two people at his feet. “<No, no no no, please god no.>” she whispered to herself, tears building in her eyes. There lay her parents, in a pool of their blood with bullet holes between their eyes. Marinette dropped to her knees, silently crying. The Red Hood either didn't see her, or chose to spare her and decided to walk away. Marinette ran to her parents, grabbing them both and shaking them. "<Don’t leave me, please don’t leave me>” she wept. Later, she was picked up by the GCPD. They escorted her on the flight back to Paris along with the remains of her parents. When she arrived, she was approached by the Aide Sociale à L'enfance (ASE).  They told her that she'll be staying at a nearby orphanage until after her parents' funeral. Then she would then be sent off to live with her only remaining relative, her Great-Uncle Wang in Shanghai. On the night before the funeral, Marinette was unable to sleep.  She curled her legs to her chest while she sat on the mattress.  She has spent the past few days researching the mysterious Red Hood, crime boss and self-proclaimed Prince of Gotham.  She read article after article of his meteoric rise to power, first conquering Black Mask, then The Penguin. Nightmares plagued her whenever she closed her eyes, she saw the Red Hood tower over her parent's lifeless bodies, covered in their blood. She was worried about being sent off to a foreign country tomorrow evening, while barely even speaking any Mandarin. All the while knowing that once she is on that flight to Shanghai, her parent's killer would without a doubt walk free. Morning comes, yet Marinette still thinks of what she should do. Could she really go to Shanghai to start her life anew, not knowing the language and allowing her parents’ killer to go on unpunished? At the funeral, while standing over her parents’ graves, she remained silent. The priest, ASE agents and her friends all came to pay their respects. Each of her friends approached her to give their sympathies, but she did not listen to a word they said. The Red Hood weighed heavily on her mind, and she made her fateful decision. To run, run and never look back. She had prepared a backpack containing the Miracle box with all the Miraculous, along with a few essential supplies and money. She turned into Multimouse to sneak on board a passenger aircraft to make her way to Gotham City.  Jason knew, better than Batman, that fighting crime sometimes meant getting your hands dirty.  What started as a petty squabble between two rival gangs grew into a bloodbath.  He missed Roy at times like these, Artemis and Bizarro were still missing, but he held out hope that they would one day return to this Earth. A teenage girl with an impressively sturdy yo-yo had burst onto the scene, trying to get civilians to safety.  He was a bit too preoccupied with the battle to get a good look at the girl.  Knowing Bruce, the next time he’d see her, she’d be under his wing.  Sadly, there were two civilians that neither of them could save, a large, burly looking man and a tiny woman.  The person who shot them with frightening accuracy had got away, moments later a teenage girl had arrived on the scene.  There was a brief flash of fear in her eyes when she saw him, and she would have just scurried away if only he hadn’t been at the very spot where her parents lay dead.  The girl was inconsolable as she fell to her knees and wept, pleading with them in French.  Red Hood walked away, thinking it would be best to leave her to grieve.  There wasn’t a whole lot he could say in English that would make her feel any better, never mind in French. He watched from a distance as the GCPD arrived to pick up the pieces, Red Hood watched from the shadows as police officers and an interpreter tried to get the girl’s side of the story.  From what he gathered, the girl’s name was Marinette Dupain-Cheng and her family owned a bakery in Paris.  Her next of kin was a relative in Shanghai, and it sounded like the best option for her would be to go and live there.   The plan was to ship her and her parents’ bodies back to Paris, and let child services take it from there.  He would have probably told her to get as far away from Gotham as possible, away from the clutches of a certain someone who was also orphaned in Crime Alley.  He saw her cradle what looked like a small pink doll to her face as she wept, before he turned and walked away. A week later, Jason had a break in the case.  This was all caused by some low-level members of the Falcone and Maroni families continuing their decades-old battle.  As far as everyone knew, the crime families swiftly executed the men responsible and went about their business.  Two crime families were unable to keep their lackeys in check, and now the people who weren’t lucky enough to be whisked away by Yo-Yo Girl, were now either dead or wishing they were.   He thought back to poor little Marinette, wondering where she was now. Bruce confronted him at the Iceberg lounge shortly after the incident, to which Jason explained that the perp had got away.   He had killed people before, and that wasn’t stopping anytime soon, after all it wasn’t that long ago that he tried to kill the Penguin.  “This may surprise you Bruce, but the Red Hood isn’t the only one who uses guns in Gotham '' he snapped.  There were some lines that even he did not cross, lines that he had drawn for himself. Judging by the accuracy of the gunshots, this was no accident.  Their daughter was probably starting a new life, probably on the other side of the world.  Still, he wished he could have said something to the girl, a simple ���Hey, it’s gonna be all right” probably would have sufficed.  Little did he know that Marinette was making her return to Gotham City.  She would have her revenge on the Red Hood, and this time she had nothing to fear and nothing to lose. After her very uncomfortable 10 hour flight from Paris to Gotham City in the cargo hold, Multimouse quietly sneaked out of the crowded airport without alerting anyone. Marinette wandered around Chinatown, thinking of her next step. She was thinking about how she would have to go through the city with a fine tooth comb to search for a lead, likely starting small with his men in the streets.  Before she could put the earrings back in her backpack, Tikki begged her to reconsider what she was doing.  “Please Marinette, you need time to heal, to grieve,” she pleaded, but Marinette didn’t need the powers of healing, luck and creation. If and when she encountered the Red Hood, she wanted to bring him death, misfortune and destruction.  After all, that was exactly what he had brought her.  With a stroke of luck, she overheard someone getting a beatdown.  "You get your ass outta here, this is Red Hood's turf. If you wanna sell that shit, you gotta give the boss his cut."  Marinette whispered "Plagg, claws out" and transformed into Lady Noire, before sneaking up behind one of the Red Hood’s men. He released the person he was beating, and chased him out the alleyway.  She took this opportunity to swing her staff,  hitting the back of his neck and sending him face first into the ground. He immediately tried to stand up, as he stood on wobbly legs he took out his knife from his jacket. "Oh shit, Catwoman?!" he yelled. Lady Noire used her staff to sweep him off his feet and slammed her staff onto his face.  "Where is the Red Hood?" she growled.  "Screw you bitch!" the goon retorted. Lady Noire had a feeling that he wouldn’t tell her the location of the Red Hood, so she decided to try a different approach. "Fine then, why don't you give your boss this simple message…" Before she could finish her sentence, she heard the telltale click of a gun being loaded. She turned around and started spinning her staff, creating a grey shield to deflect the storm of bullets that were being fired at her.  She moved her hands at a rapid pace, and frantically pushed back against the hail of bullets.  As the bullet storm subsided she looked up and saw, up on the fire escape, was the Red Hood with an assault rifle. The Red Hood casually tossed his gun aside and asked "So, what's this message you have for me, Catwoman?" He gracefully did a forward flip and landed in a crouch.  "Wait a minute..." he said, the first thing he noticed was that this person was tiny, 4’11 or maybe 5’ on a good day. Her eyes were a bright acid green with dark slits like a real cat’s pupils.  "You're not Catwoman, you're too short to be her, for one thing.” he remarked “also she usually has a whip instead of a staff, who are you?" Lady Noire gritted her teeth, "You killed my family" she answered with a low growl. "Do you have the slightest idea how little that narrows it down Kitten?" Red Hood's taunts made her snap.  She screamed "YOU TOOK EVERYTHING FROM ME!" The Red Hood stared at her, as he crossed his arms.  "I don't even know who you are, what's your beef with me?" He asked, Lady Noire lunged at the Red Hood with her staff, she swung wildly to try and hit him.  He dodged most of her strikes with ease, “Is that the best you’ve got?  You’re gonna have to try harder than that.”  Where she might have lacked in skill, she made up for in determination.  She wasn’t pulling any punches, he had to give her that.  He caught the staff under his arm, and punched Lady Noire with his free arm.  As he went on the offensive, he slapped her staff aside, and came at her with a series of punches and kicks.   “So, what do you want Kitten? Money? Jewels? A very big ball of string?”  he joked.  “All I want is revenge,” she spluttered. “Get in line Kitten, you’re in the city that runs on vengeance” he retorted. Marinette was lucky that the suit gave her enhanced speed, strength and endurance. She always loved how the Lady Noire suit felt a lot lighter compared to the Ladybug suit. Though she shuddered to imagine what her opponent would do with this power.    He raised his leg to end his combination with a forceful downward kick, Lady Noire raised her staff up to a horizontal block to stop the kick. Upon contact with the kick, the staff split into two, and then Lady Noire launched into her counter attack. She was striking the Red Hood with a flurry of blows with both halves of her staff.  "Escrima sticks too? Looks like we have a Nightwing fan here” he smirked under the mask; this new girl was just full of surprises.  He brought his arms to the sides of his head in a defensive posture, blocking the onslaught of strikes from the escrima sticks.  Red Hood then grabbed Lady Noire by the back of her head, placing her in a Thai clinch. He launched a powerful knee to her face and sent her reeling back. He drew his pistols and fired a torrent of bullets at her. Lady Noire had to dodge, weave and use her staff to deflect incoming bullets. One bullet even grazed her cheek. She then pointed her staff at the Red Hood and extended it with so much force it slammed him against the wall of a nearby building. Without giving him any breathing room, she then retracted the staff. She launched herself towards him and then dropkicked his face straight into the wall. His helmet cracked against the tremendous pressure. "It's now or never” she thought, as she cast Cataclysm and swiped at one half of the Red Hood’s helmet. She saw the helmet dissolve and reveal the target beneath.  She noticed that underneath the helmet he wore a red domino mask, not unlike the one she usually wore.  She would have time to think about how overly dramatic that was later, as she used her other hand to pick up the knife on the ground that the other goon left behind.  She jumped on top of the Red Hood, “Now perish!” she cried out as she thrusted the blade towards the exposed part of his face. Red Hood recovered quickly and caught her hand holding the blade. As the two struggled for the knife, Lady Noire tried to swipe at him with Cataclysm again.  Suddenly, she felt the power of 50,000 volts coursing through her, as the Red Hood activated the taser hidden in his chest piece.  She powered through, running purely on anger, grief and adrenaline. She was only able to struggle for about a minute, before passing out from the pain.  Red Hood flipped Lady Noire’s unconscious body aside, before he took off his helmet to inspect the damage. "The hell?." he pondered, "So, indestructible staff that can do double duty as a shield, and the ability to disintegrate things with one touch. Let's find out who you really are."  He slowly stood up and looked down at her unconscious body. He tried to peel away her domino mask, yet it would not come off. He tugged on the mask, even to the point of lifting the unconscious girl off the ground. He released the mask, and let the body drop with a small thud.  The Red Hood began talking to himself "She either superglued the mask on or it’s something else. Considering all that she can do, I'd say 80% chance it's magic and 20% a lantern. Either way a 100% pain in my ass".  He heard a small beeping noise and gingerly lifted her hand up off the floor.  As it emitted black and green energy, he noticed that she had a ring on.  The beeping came from a small picture of a paw print, which was missing a few pads.  If she was a lantern, that ring was going to run out of charge any moment now.  He took out his phone and called the Iceberg Lounge. He requested that they send for a van to pick him up and his new guest.   He requested that the Su Sisters get her cleaned up and ready. He needed to find out who sent her and who she worked for. He took out the special handcuffs that Batman designed when dealing with metahumans. As he walked towards Lady Noire about to cuff her, he heard some more beeping, followed by a bright light surrounding her.  Her suit and mask disappeared, leaving behind a small girl in pastel pink clothes who was probably no older than 15 or 16.  Her long braid changed back into a couple of shoulder-length pigtails, and she had a pink backpack on her back.  Jason looked inside the bag, there were a few sets of clothes, a wallet and an antique Chinese jewelry box.  He wondered if that ring was just one of many tools in her arsenal.  Jason's eyes widened, he recognised her as the girl he saw a few weeks ago when the turf war in Crime Alley broke out.  "What’s she doing here?" he said to himself aloud, “ Idiot” he muttered. He remembered following the girl and her GCPD escort to make sure she boarded her flight back to Paris.  She was supposed to be with her remaining family. Yet she came back to, no, ran away to Gotham City.  All for revenge.  He checked her wallet and saw the name printed on it, he sighed, this just confirmed that she was the same girl. When she had her revenge, what would she do then?  He wasn’t the undisputed master of thinking things through, but even he thought she was a fool to come back here.  Gotham City didn’t have the best track record dealing with orphans.  He knew this from personal experience, but there was that time where many were rounded up and sent upstate to juvie, for the crime of trying to survive on the streets.  He would have been in the same position, had it not been for his own fateful encounter in Crime Alley. He shuddered to think what her other option would be in a place like Gotham City, becoming a Robin.  Part of the reason he wanted her out of Gotham was so that Bruce wouldn’t get any ideas about taking her in.  When the car arrived, he scooped up the girl in his arms and carried her towards it.  Marinette woke up with her heart beating frantically in her chest, the first thing she saw was a bright light.  She was dead, she had to be, the last thing she remembered was confronting the Red Hood and now he had killed her.  She slowly sat up, she looked down to find that someone had changed her clothes, she was wearing light blue pajamas.  She started to look around, to her left there was a large floor to ceiling window where she could see a city at night with bright twinkling lights.  On the table next to her was the Miracle box, she quickly grabbed the box and looked through it. She gave a sigh of relief when she saw that all the Miraculous she brought with her were still there.   Suddenly, Marinette heard someone clear their throat.  At the foot of the bed, stood a rather large woman who had a bundle of clothes in her hand.  Next to her was a blonde woman with pink highlights who had a tray of food. “Oh good, you’re finally awake” the large woman said gruffly, she set the clothes down on the edge of the bed.  The blonde girl set a tea tray down in front of her, along with a couple of pastries.  Marinette’s heart sank at the sight of the croissants, they reminded her of her parents and their bakery. “Eat up and get dressed, the boss wants to see you later” the blonde woman told her, before skipping to the larger woman’s side.  Just as the two were about to leave, Marinette piped up, “Um, where am I?” she asked, “Who is your boss?” “You’re in the Iceberg Lounge in Gotham City”, the large woman told her gruffly.  “The name’s Suzie, this is one of my sisters, Candy. Our boss is the owner.”  Marinette gave an awkward wave as they left, and Candy returned it with a more cheerful one.    She took a bite out of the croissant, it tasted cold and dry. However, if she was going to defeat the Red Hood, she’d need all her strength. She put Plagg’s ring back in the box and reached for Ladybug’s earrings; she needed a new tactic.  When Tikki appeared in front of her, she also quickly looked around the room before looking back at Marinette with a concerned look on her face. “I couldn’t do it,” Marinette explained “he managed to stop me and I ended up back here”. Tikki’s eyes were sympathetic as Marinette held her closer to her face, “Are you sure you still want to go through with this?” Tikki asked.  “For now, I have to get changed and go upstairs to meet the boss.  Maybe he’s the one who found me after the fight was over” Marinette theorized as she gave Tikki the cookie from the tray.  While Tikki quietly nibbled at it, Marinette stood up and walked over to the edge of the bed.  Inside the small bundle of clothes were a simple white blouse and black skirt. They were a little big, she would probably hem it if she had her sewing machine.    Moments later, a tall woman with dark hair led Marinette into the penthouse, a large room with a desk in the corner.   A tall man in a suit stood with his back towards the door, overlooking the sparkling city skyline.  She slowly stepped inside, looking around the room as she walked towards the man.  “Um hi, who are you?” Marinette asked as she apprehensively walked towards him.  She couldn’t help but feel small in that grand high-ceiling room. “I am the owner of the Iceberg Lounge,” he explained. “I guess the question I should be asking is…” he turned towards her and Marinette saw he had a domino mask over his eyes and a red half mask covering his nose and mouth, “who are you?” He threw something at her and she caught it.  She looked down and saw the Red Hood’s helmet, half of it looked as though someone tried to tear the metal open.  Then she remembered everything she had researched about the Red Hood, and the fight that took place not long after she arrived back in Gotham. “You…” she hissed. To be continued...
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demigoddreamer · 3 years
Text
Batfam Fanfic Recs Part 2
I can't believe Sun moon stars jedi said reblogged my post*check out their tumblr and ao3*. I loved the story because it had one of my favorite theories about Jay having to do some prostitution to survive while on the streets and it's realistic considering Jason probably had to do whatever it takes to survive. oh you poor baby boi i'm so sorry but it makes for some heart wrenching fanfiction.
I also apologize to who didn't like it I did warn it could be rather serious, and the tags probably said so too. I just really like when stories talk about deep issues and stuff like insecurity and body image and whatnot. But sorry I understand if you're not into that. I'm the type of person not phased by dark topics blood and guts could be flying on a screen and i wouldn't flinch
I was just too lazy to do tags which i'm sorry but I really I don't have as much time to do this as you think so i'll write some warning but I wouldn't blame you if you didn't trust me after that
Anyway this is another bunch of fanfiction that follows the rules of the part one listed here(no x reader or incest etc): https://demigoddreamer.tumblr.com/post/647924403914571776/batfam-fanfic-recs-part-1
These are from my bookmarks and since canon bruce is well abusive I struggle to read fanfiction that has bruce as a good parent cause fluffy bruce just doesn't make sense besides i do love some good pain and trauma in fics and batbro bonding against bruce
Different Dad, Same Story by haras_onom
Teen and Up Audiences
*implied/referenced child abuse
Relationships:
Dick Grayson & Jason Todd
Jason Todd & Bruce Wayne
Dick Grayson & Bruce Wayne
Dick Grayson & Jason Todd & Bruce Wayne
Summary:
Jason Todd is still dealing with the aftermath of Bruce beating him and kicking him out of Gotham. Luckily, Dick Grayson (big brother extraordinaire) is there to help.
fuzzy gray by envysparkler
Teen and Up Audiences
*implied/referenced drug use
Relationships:
Dick Grayson & Jason Todd
Dick Grayson & Bruce Wayne
Tim Drake & Damian Wayne
Tim Drake & Jason Todd
Summary:
Dick has a bad day. Good thing he has a little brother.
(Bonus chapter: Tim has a bad day. Good thing he has his brothers.)
Wayward Birds by LanternWisp for Lysical
Teen and Up Audiences
Relationships:
Jason Todd & Bruce Wayne
Jason Todd & Eddie Bloomberg
Dick Grayson & Jason Todd
Summary:
Jason learns that maybe not all of Bruce's rules are fair, but a fair few are there for a reason.
Lost In My Mind by alexandredumas_eatyourheartout
Teen and Up Audiences
Summary:
(*SOME TRIGGERS*)
How do you run from your mind? You can't, considering your head is attached to your body. The fact was Jason could never run from his mind, no matter how fast he went.
Now his brothers have to save him before it's too late. Will they save his mind, or lose him forever?
(Rated Teen because I'm paranoid but there isn't super graphic stuff. I'm still rating it as graphic because it might get to that point.)
inhibition by envysparkler
Teen and Up Audiences
*implied/referenced underage prostitution
Relationships:
Dick Grayson & Jason Todd
Jason Todd & Bruce Wayne
Summary:
Batman gets hit by a Poison Ivy special. Jason is unfortunately caught in the crossfire.
Proximity to Power by Sohotthateveryonedied
Teen and Up Audiences
*implied/referenced underage prostitution
*implied/referenced sexual assault
Relationships:
Dick Grayson & Jason Todd
Summary:
Dick could almost enjoy himself if he didn’t have to endure the constant grabby hands from drunk aristocrats who are too used to getting what they want. Dick can’t get a second alone without someone grabbing his ass or pinning him with a conversation, telling him how much he’s grown up, which everyone knows is code for “you’re finally legal now.”
He feels bad for Jason, who has only been Bruce’s son for a few months now. This is his first upper-class party. Dick can already imagine how he’s being treated like a shiny new toy, fawned over and getting his cheeks pinched by elderly ladies who’ve doused themselves in musty perfume and the finest jewelry they own.
Series
a heart just can't contain all of this empty space by TheMermaidLord
(THIS REC IS A YOUNG JUSTICE FIC shoutout to young justice fans i'm one too :))
General Audiences
Relationships:
Artemis Crock/Wally West
Kon-El | Conner Kent/M'gann M'orzz
Dick Grayson/Wally West
Roy Harper/Jason Todd
Summary:
The Batfamily shares information on a strictly 'need-to-know' basis. The Team is of the opinion that this basis is a little too 'need-to-know'.
It starts when Dick disappears for months with no explanation, and, apparently, there's no end in sight.
Learning to Breathe by A_Bright_Idea
Teen and Up Audiences
*implied/referenced child abuse
Relationships:
Tim Drake & Dick Grayson & Jason Todd & Bruce Wayne & Damian Wayne
Summary:
Whilst taking down a sex-trafficking ring, Jason get's caught in an explosion and almost drowns. Saved by Nightwing, Jason is horrified when his brother refuses to leave his side until he's fully recovered. There's just no arguing with a guilt-ridden Dick, but maybe this is exactly what Jason needs? Maybe it's what Dick needs too. ------------------- Sequel to 'I'll be Home for Christmas' and 'A Little Unsteady'. Can be read alone.
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lyss-writes · 3 years
Text
Excelsior (Part 9)
[9/12]
Looking back on that moment later in the privacy of his therapist’s office, Tom might have said any number of things. He might have said, Are you fucking nuts? (Pejorative, and potentially a trigger.) Or, Suppose you’ll want to be the one in heels, Ginger Rogers. (Passive-aggressive, with a subtle hint of good old-fashioned homophobia baked in, for flavor.) A simple No, thanks might have sufficed here, but.
The thing was, Greg used to do this competition with Andrew every Thanksgiving weekend. Greg, whose family was a grouchy Quebeçois hermit and a conniving New York news magnate and a handful of cousins who had never once mentioned him. Andrew, whose family was English and distant in every sense of the word. And now Andrew was dead, and Tom was going to—what, he was gonna tell him No, uh-uh, absolutely fucking not, Greg like some kind of homophobic monster, like some horrible beast who would sooner piss all over a dead guy’s memory than shimmy around a hotel ballroom in Spandex pants like some low-rent Midwestern Baryshnikov with his wife’s cousin?
Shiv. Now there was an angle. Oh, to think of Shiv discovering that Tom had taken pity on her poor widowed cousin! Oh, oh, oh, how she’d fall longingly at his feet when she heard all about his selfless act of kindness. How gallant he was! How dashing!
So he agreed, but—because Tom was smart and blessed with real business acumen when it came to cutting deals and closing tricky loopholes—Greg had to find a way to deliver the note to Shiv first. Send it first-class, via carrier pigeon, in a fucking stripper-gram, for all he cared. Just get it done, nice and discreet, and then they could talk about this… ballroom dance thing.
“This is a wonderful thing you’re doing, Tom,” Dr. Parfit said, smiling at him. “A wonderful, wonderful thing.”
Oh, it was wonderful. God, he was good. In awe of his own brilliance. He could be back home with Shiv by Christmas, if he kept playing his cards right.
“Gosh, is it? I don’t know,” Tom said, simpering. “I like to think I’m just… being a friend.”
“Of course,” Dr. Parfit said, hand to his chest. “Of course you are.”
But his therapist didn’t know about the letter. He didn’t know about the sneaky little (possibly illegal) side deal he’d struck with Greg.
Logan Roy had once said in a fit of passion that Tom was fathoms beneath his daughter. He liked to think that this bit of duplicitousness would do his father-in-law proud.
————————
His parents were thrilled, predictably. Less thrilled, when they realized who his new dance partner was. It seemed like everyone knew Greg somehow: as the twenty-nine year old widower, as the resident office nympho. His mom mentioned that Greg had shopped his wrongful termination suit around to the white-shoe law firms in the Twin Cities a couple months back, including hers, but he’d decided in the end that it wasn’t worth the time and money to pursue legal action. But gee, wasn’t that a terrible tragedy to happen, to lose his husband when he was ever so young, and so in love! And wasn’t Tom such a sweetheart for taking him under his wing. And did Greg know that he was welcome to come for dinner anytime—really, anytime at all, anything for Tommy’s new friend!
“Sure,” Tom said, just to get his mom off his case. “I’ll tell him.”
But first: the letter. He disappeared into his bedroom and settled at his old desk and wrote. And damn, it was good. Really moving stuff, just super romantic. Would Nate do this for her? Would he write a bunch of purple prose and wax poetic about how lucky he was to be married to someone so extraordinary, so breathtakingly beautiful? Would he break some smug bastard’s nose for daring to touch her? And, well. Would someone like him, so concerned with the plight of the working class, blah blah blah, do what Tom was doing for Greg? What was he doing right now? Was he making a difference in Shiv’s cousin’s pathetic life? Ha! As if!
He scrawled it all out on a bit of his mom’s stationery—proof of life, etc.—and sealed it up in an envelope to give to Greg at rehearsal.
————————
“Holy shit,” Tom said. “You’re telling me that this was a garage?”
He stood in the middle of what could have been a professional dance studio, which just so happened to be in a converted four-car garage behind an old derelicted Craftsman. It was gorgeously designed. Oak floors, an entire wall of paneled mirrors, a top-grade sound system with wall-mounted subwoofers.
“Yeah,” Greg said. “I know. It was a total mess before I moved in with my mom, but she let me, like, trick the place out. Cool, right?”
“Jesus,” Tom said, running a hand along a light switch panel on the wall: turn a dial, and the lights dimmed so that a single spotlight burned overhead; flip a switch, and there was a strobe effect that rivaled the display at a West Berlin discotheque. “How opulent. This must have cost a fucking fortune.”
Greg smiled, a little sheepish. “Roy money.”
“Ah.” Tom thought privately that it was probably a bit of a waste, throwing several hundred thousand dollars at a bachelor pad slash elite dance studio in your mother’s garage, but then again, if he had his hands on even a fraction of Shiv’s inheritance, God knew what he’d do with it. He probably wouldn’t be channeling his millions into funding the cure for cancer, either. Maybe that was why she’d been so insistent on signing a prenup. “I thought you said you weren’t much of a dancer?”
“I’m not,” Greg shrugged. “But it’s therapy, and it’s fun! And the walls in here are good because they’re soundproofed, so I can play music really loud and my mom doesn’t hear it.”
“Oh. That’s… useful.”
Greg plugged his iPhone into a speaker setup and started tapping at the screen, scrolling through a Spotify playlist. “Uh-huh.”
“So when are you gonna give it to her?” Tom asked.
“What?”
He pulled the sealed envelope out of his back pocket and held it up. “The note, Greg.”
“Huh?” Greg kept looking at his phone. “Uh, I don’t know. Soon. I thought I’d, like, email it to her? Do people even use the post office anymore?”
“You’re not gonna read it,” Tom said, eyebrows cinching in the middle of his forehead. “Greg. Tell me you’re not gonna read the note. It’s private. It’s romantic.”
“Fine, like, type it up for me if you don’t want me reading it,” Greg said, his eyes still glued to the phone screen.
“Greg, you know I can’t do that. I can’t use a phone, I can’t touch a computer.”
“Yeah, yeah. Right. I forgot, the restraining order.” Greg lifted a shoulder. “I’ll scan it, or something.”
“Good, good.” Tom hummed to himself, a little unsettled by Greg’s nonchalance. There was a lot riding on the successful delivery of this note. “It’s a good letter, though. I think.”
“Mm. I bet.”
“Yeah, Shiv’s not really much of a romantic, you know. Or, uh, she’s not really, uh, comfortable showing affection. Always hated PDA. She keeps her cards pretty close to the chest.” Tom cleared his throat. “But I think she’ll see where I’m coming from.”
“Uh-huh.”
“And I mentioned in there, I talked about what I’m doing for you, the dance thing, how generous it is—”
“Very.”
“—and how I’m, ah, how I’m being of service to you—”
“No, like, yeah. Absolutely.”
“—to your need.”
“Right.” Greg took the envelope from Tom with a tight smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Uh, should we start?”
“Oh, ah, sure,” Tom said. Somehow he’d managed to forget that dancing was part of the deal. Apparently too much to hope that Greg would forget about it too, huh. “Show me what you’ve got, Stringbean.”
They warmed up for a bit in front of the mirrors, not so much dancing as they were swaying side-by-side to the beat of whatever treacly pop song Greg had pulled up on his phone.
I remember when, I remember, I remember when I lost my mind There was something so pleasant about that place
It was… fine, but not really danceable. Not in the way Tom knew how to dance, anyway. (Yes, he’d dabbled a bit in theatre, back in college. And yes, he’d taken lessons with Shiv before the wedding, a simple waltz, nothing too extravagant.) If they were gonna do this, then they needed some damn wedding music. Whitney Houston! The Spinners! Earth, Wind & Fire, for fuck’s sake. Real music.
So he cajoled Greg into switching up the playlist a little, and then they were, uh. Kind of dancing, the two of them, Tom leading with a firm hand on Greg’s hip. It was weird, dancing with someone taller than him, who also happened to be male, and gangly, and redolent of Old Spice deodorant, but he was also surprisingly… coordinated? And he didn’t seem to mind that Tom had taken the reins and was pushing him around the dancefloor like a housecleaner with a Hoover.
The level of automatic trust was unexpected. Which was nice, Tom had to admit. Weird, but nice.
“Hey, you’re, like, pretty good at this!” Greg said at one point. They were dancing to an oldie, a Sinatra song with a slower tempo, while they caught their breath.
“Don’t sound so surprised, Greg.”
“I didn’t know you knew how to dance, is all.”
Tom raised an eyebrow and spun Greg in a loose circle under his arm, and went in for a dip.
“Of course I know how to dance, Greg. Jesus,” Tom said, expertly tipping Greg. Yeah, he still had it in him. “I’m not a philistine.”
“I–I know,” Greg stammered, blushing, on his way back up.
Dancing was more of a workout than Tom remembered. They were flush and out of breath after an hour. Greg’s hair was damp, stringy with sweat, and his cheeks were pink.
He looked good, all worked up like that.
“See you tomorrow?” Greg asked when Tom went to leave.
“Yeah, sure, tomorrow,” Tom confirmed. “And, uh. Don’t forget about the letter.”
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fuckyeahgoodomens · 4 years
Video
youtube
Brilliant interview ‘Neil Gaiman in conversation with Nilanjana S. Roy’ ❤
Nilanjana: One of the reasons Terry Pratchett's books was so powerful, was that behind the fun and, you know, the great world building and everything, he was writing with a tremendous anger. And not a despairing anger but an anger that was fuelled by a thirst for change, you know, saying: our world is not in the shape what it should be, discrimination should not be happening the way it is. And you wrote not necessarily with that same searing anger but a lot of what you were writing about from Sandman to American Gods to a lot of the other books was also about looking at injustice, looking at tyranny, looking at freedom, and particularly you’re right from the start whatever you were doing whether it was comics or whether it was novels or short stories or films you’re being preoccupied by the question of who has freedom and who doesn’t, you know, freedom in their lives or freedom in a fantasy world, and do you think this is one of the gifts of fantasy, really? I know that mainstream critics often don’t see this, they think of fantasy as something that is escapist, but it is the oldest form of storytelling that we have.
Neil: You have touched on so many important things in your question, I’m going to miss things out while I answer, but, first of all: Terry Pratchett - absolutely. That anger, a fury, righteous indignation drove Terry, and what also drove him was knowing that one of the things that fantasy does best is taking something that you know, you’ve always seen from this angle and turning it around so you see it from this angle and you’re not seeing the thing that you’re used to, taking reality and allowing you to lose preconceptions. Because you may think that you don’t like this kind of person but actually here’s a story with this kind of person. You may think that the problem with the poor is that they just don’t work hard enough because you’ve worked hard and you’re rich, and then you get Terry writing about boots from the point of view of Vimes, he’s sort of police captain in the city watch, and just thinking about the fact that if you can afford a good pair of boots, that good pair of boots will last you the rest of your life, but if you can’t afford a good pair of boots you’re gonna get a pair of boots with cardboard soles that are gonna wear out after a couple of years and then you have to get another pair of boots and another pair of boots and actually if you’d had the money you would’ve saved a lot money and it’s expensive being poor. And Terry puts it in a way that actually means that you read that and you go ‘oh, that actually changes the way that I’ve viewed powerty, because yes, it’s really expensive being poor, the poor get to pay more for stuff’. Terry would write about racism. Terry would write about things that made him angry in the world. I wish that Terry was alive right now and I wish that he hadn’t had Alzheimers and I wish that his fury and anger could be with us today because I would love to see what he would make of the governments, of the tech world, of the foolishness of people, and I know that he would phrase things in ways that would just change peoples minds because that was part of Terry’s power. When we wrote Good Omens we wrote about stuff that we were upset about or concerned about 31 years ago. And the weirdest thing with Good Omens was that it came out last year as a TV series and we have people asking us if we changed it to become timely because here was stuff about War, here was stuff about Pollution, there was a lot of environmental stuff that was killing whales, it all seemed incredibly timely and we’re like: no, no, no, all of this really timely stuff is 31 years old, it’s just the world has got worse. The one huge thing that we missed of course was we have a joke in Good Omens how Pestilence, Plague has retired in 1936 making way for Pollution...
Nilanjana: And he’s out of retirement, isn’t he?
Neil: Absolutely, out of retirement and making us all realize that it never got away.
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