#since the last one has been so interesting to me
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right person, wrong times | cl16
pairing: charles leclerc x fem!reader
summary: a random day each year across 11 years, as they go from practically strangers, to more, to less, and again. (~4.3k)
a/n: inspo from 'one day' !! been struggling with writer's block, so sorry in advance if it's rough lool
part 1 | part 2 | part 3
One day in 2018
Y/N glanced across the crowded room, picking out one familiar face amidst the sea of strangers: Pascale. Their families went way back, but with Y/N's parents splitting when she was just a toddler, she'd spent most of her life in Spain with her dad, Switzerland for boarding school, and rare trips to Monaco to visit her mum—hardly ever crossing paths with the Leclerc's.
But today was different. She found herself in Monaco attending a family gathering to finally meet Pascale's sons properly. She couldn't recall the last time she'd spoken to them, but Pascale had insisted today would be the day, especially since her recent move here.
Across the room, Charles stood, his posture slightly hunched as his mother whispered in his ear, urging him to check on Y/N. "Please go see how Y/N is doing. I'm not sure if she'll remember you, but just introduce yourself and keep her company for a while," Pascale pleaded, fixing him with a hopeful gaze. "Please."
"I don’t even know where she is or what she looks like."
"She's at the bar," Pascale replied with a smile. "She's the pretty one—you won't miss her."
"Very helpful," Charles chuckled, shaking his head before stepping back. "I'll make my way over now."
It didn't take long until he found himself at the bar. Surprisingly, his mother's brief description proved accurate, as Y/N stood out for her beauty—quite a departure from the faint memory he held of her.
Drawing closer, he flashed a warm smile and extended his hand in greeting. "Charles."
Y/N shot him a quick, assessing glance, her eyes flitting over his unruly hair and black attire, before meeting his gaze. "Not interested," she dismissed, her attention already wandering back to the room.
Chuckling at her abruptness, Charles shook his head. "No, no, I wasn't trying to... I'm not here to make a move, I wouldn't."
Y/N turned towards him, her curiosity piqued by his response. "Ouch," she teased, a hint of amusement dancing in her eyes. "So you think I'm ugly, then?" Her lips curved slightly as she awaited his answer.
Heat crept up Charles’ neck, and though he couldn’t see himself, he could sense the warmth spreading across his face. With a nervous stammer, he began, “Wait, no! That’s not what I meant—What I’m trying to say is—”
“Relax,” Y/N interjected with a sympathetic smile. “I’m just kidding. Nice to see you again, Leclerc. It’s been a while, huh?”
Charles let out a long breath, his tension easing slightly. For a moment, he studied Y/N with a discerning gaze, as if attempting to unravel her mystery; she was undeniably peculiar, yet undeniably intriguing. “It has been a while,” he finally acknowledged, nodding slowly.
One day in 2019
This marked Y/N’s first ever Christmas market in Monaco. She had wanted to attend last year’s, but the winter season had always been her least favourite. This time last year, it was simply too cold for her—no matter what the news claimed, she was freezing. But today wasn’t half as bad. Sure, she was bundled up in about three sweaters under her hoodie, which she wore beneath her jacket, but well, you could say she was sensitive to weather.
“Y/N?” a voice suddenly erupted from behind her, pulling her attention away from the gigantic, decorated Christmas tree and towards Charles, who now stood before her, holding two steaming mugs.
Y/N narrowed her gaze, appearing lost in thought. “Sorry, do I know you?”
Charles shook his head and sighed, his breath forming a white cloud in the chilly air. “Right, of course. It’s been a year, so it makes sense for you not to remember me…”
“I'm just joking,” Y/N grinned, nudging him cautiously to avoid any spills. “You’re too easy.”
Charles’ mouth dropped open slightly, his eyes widening for a moment before he chuckled, “Okay, I’m not going to believe anything you say from now on.”
"Good idea," she nodded with a smile. Y/N's gaze then drifted down to the two mugs in his hands, and she inquired, "Am I right to assume that one of these is for me?"
A puzzled expression briefly crossed Charles' face, his brows furrowing slightly, prompting Y/N to gesture towards the cups.
As if suddenly remembering, he exclaimed, "Oh, right! I thought you might want something warm, and who doesn't like hot chocolate, right?" With that, he offered one of the drinks to her.
"I sure do." Y/N took the cup, cupping her cold hands around the hot glass, immediately feeling the stiffness melt away from her fingers. The hot chocolate wasn't nearly as scalding as she had anticipated—it was just right, and she savoured each sip, briefly closing her eyes in contentment. When she reopened them, she couldn't help but remark, "Sweet, just like you."
As if someone had turned on a gas stove, heat rushed to Charles' face, though this time he was fortunate; the weather was already giving him a rosy complexion due to the cold.
But Y/N still noticed, and she smiled. "Don't go getting soft on me now," she teased, bumping her elbow into his arm.
Without really thinking, Charles muttered, "You're not making it easy…" His words slipped out, and with their proximity, Y/N heard him loud and clear. Even though it wasn't the first time she'd heard a comment like that, the fact that it came from Charles sent a pleasant shiver down her spine.
"What was that?" Arching a brow, Y/N glanced up at him sideways, a playful glint in her eyes.
"Nothing… Do you want to get inside though? It’s a little too cold for me."
“It’s my first time here,” Y/N said, hooking her arm around his, ignoring the sudden tension in his muscles. “Don’t want to get lost,” she explained, glancing up at Charles, who didn’t object and instead simply nodded. “Right, yeah.”
“So? Lead the way then.”
“Alright, alright,” Charles obliged, skilfully manoeuvring through the crowd, with Y/N beside him.
One day in 2020
“Is this seat taken?” The question caused Y/N to freeze, her forkful of ratatouille dropping onto her plate. She swallowed the remaining food in her mouth and swiftly swept the napkin off her lap, dabbing the corners of her mouth until she was sure there were no traces left.
“Not at all,” she finally responded, turning towards the voice. “I should warn you though—” But the moment her eyes met the familiar pair of Charles’ blue ones, she stopped mid-sentence.
For a brief moment, it seemed as if the rest of the table didn’t exist, as neither of them spoke, both too captivated by the other's presence. With a crooked smile, Charles broke the silence. “You were going to warn me about something?”
Y/N couldn't quite explain why, but the sight of his smile immediately lifted the corners of her mouth, while her stomach somersaulted with a flurry of emotions. She pushed aside the sensation and simply laughed, resting her elbows on the table and burying her face in her hands. “Just forget it,” she mumbled against her palms, loud enough for Charles to hear.
A gentle breeze wafted over her, carrying a familiar, clean scent of laundry detergent that Y/N had come to associate with Charles. Somehow, it immediately calmed the strange fluttering in her stomach, prompting her to lift her gaze again.
“Hi,” she finally greeted with a smile, reaching for the glass of wine on the table.
“Hey,” Charles nodded, settling back in his seat.
They lingered like this for a while, Y/N's gaze fixed on the side of his face while Charles casually surveyed the room, exchanging greetings with a few acquaintances. Squinting slightly, Y/N blurted out, “Are you stalking me?”
Charles burst into laughter, quickly composing himself and leaning towards her. “In my family's house?” he countered.
Y/N nodded in satisfaction as she took a sip from her drink. “Excellent point,” she conceded.
Gently settling the glass down, she redirected her attention to the untouched forkful of food and remarked, “Can I just say, you have to try this, it's so good.” She gestured towards her barely touched plate. “I don’t know what Pascale put in this, but this is the best ratatouille I’ve ever tasted.” Y/N grabbed her fork and extended it towards him, but noticing Charles freeze, she quickly swallowed her words, saying, “Oh, sorry, I know some people are a little iffy with sharing—”
Before she could retract the fork, Charles' warm hands suddenly enclosed around hers, halting her movement as he guided the fork towards his mouth, taking a bite, and nodding at her with a smile. “It’s been my favourite since I was a little kid.”
Y/N whispered softly, her voice barely above a murmur, yet close enough for them to hear each other perfectly. "A man of taste huh?" Her gaze drifted from his eyes down to where his hand still lingered around hers, now tracing soft circles across her skin.
Charles followed Y/N’s line of sight, quickly clearing his throat when he realised what he was doing. He withdrew his hand, causing both to avert their eyes, suddenly finding interest in everything but each other.
The last thing Charles wanted was to make Y/N uncomfortable, and as for her, she simply didn’t want to blow things out of proportion—see something where there was nothing. For all she knew, Charles was like that with all his friends.
A few moments passed, filled with surrounding chatter, before they both spoke up at the same time.
“Do you want to go—"
“So, do you have any other—"
Laughter erupted between them before Y/N smirked, “Because I’m a lady, you first.”
“How kind of you,” he chuckled, running a hand through his hair. “Are you free next week? We could maybe grab lunch or something.” Before she could respond, he added, scratching his neck, “I would offer to cook, but unfortunately, cooking skills don’t get genetically passed down.”
Ignoring the beat Y/N was sure her heart had just skipped, she simply smiled and leaned forward, chin propped on her hand. “You mean a date?”
“Only if that’s what you want.”
Her rapid nods confirmed everything before her words even formed. However, just as Charles’ lips broke into a broad grin, Y/N’s expression suddenly fell as she remembered, “Wait, no, I can’t. I’m travelling to Spain tomorrow to visit my dad. And then after that, I’ll start my internship in New York City.”
Charles sank back into his chair, though his face didn’t betray the disappointment he felt. “I see,” he sighed.
“Rain check?” Y/N asked. She wanted a date with him, to see if they’d hit it off on that level. The only problem was the timing, but she knew her feelings didn’t fade quickly. If they had to wait, then so be it. She was ready to do so. Laughing, Y/N added, “Seriously, I still want that date.”
“Rain check it is,” Charles nodded. “Congrats on the internship though, that’s amazing. Maybe I can come visit, and we’ll—”
The sudden clanking of glass interrupted him, causing both to turn their attention to the woman standing at the end of the long table.
Without breaking eye contact with the woman, Y/N leaned in closer to Charles, her lips accidentally grazing his as his gaze fleetingly dropped to her lips before he refocused on the woman, who had now dropped her glass onto the table.
Y/N whispered into his ear, to which Charles simply nodded, suppressing the sudden surge of desire coursing through his veins.
One day in 2021
Y/N walked through the Paddock with a sense of detachment, like a deer caught in headlights. The US Grand Prix had come to an end, and Max Verstappen had emerged as the victor. It wasn’t exactly what she had hoped for, but she didn’t feel any strong emotions about it. What occupied her thoughts, however, was the meeting spot she had arranged with Carlos.
Pausing in her step, she pulled out her phone, deciding to cut straight to the chase and call him directly. The phone rang for what seemed like an eternity until the sound was abruptly cut off by a long beep, indicating his automated voicemail.
“Not even personalised,” she scoffed, hanging up, tossing her phone into her bag, and continuing, resigned to the idea of either wandering aimlessly forever or eventually finding Carlos.
However, she didn’t get far before colliding with someone. She stumbled backward a bit before regaining her balance, and as she looked up, her eyes widened in recognition.
Charles stood opposite her, his expression shifting from shock to a warm smile, though his eyebrows remained slightly furrowed. “Hi,” he breathed, the warmth of his breath reaching and spreading across Y/N’s face. “You’re… here.”
Y/N’s gaze swept over his tousled hair, a few strands sticking to his forehead adorned with tiny beads of sweat, some trailing down the sides of his slightly flushed face. “You’re sweaty. Very sweaty,” she blurted out, immediately regretting her awkward observation. But it had been a year since their last exchange, so it was understandable that things felt a bit awkward between them.
A few chuckles escaped Charles, immediately bringing a smile to Y/N’s face. “Thanks, I didn’t notice."
She exhaled a laugh, and then Charles added, “Thank you for coming, I really appreciate it.” Shielding his eyes from the harsh glare of the sun with his hand, he squinted at her. “Can I ask though, was this meant to be a surprise or something?”
“Ah, Charles, you’ve met my friend, Y/N,” Carlos interrupted from behind as he came to a stop beside her.
Y/N smiled awkwardly. “Uhm... Carlos actually invited me, so that's why I'm here."
“You two know each other?” Charles inquired, raising an eyebrow in curiosity.
“My dad lives in Spain, remember?” Y/N reminded him, shrugging. “Our families are pretty close.”
“Right…” Charles nodded, though he couldn’t shake off the slight hint of disbelief in his voice. After all, he knew Carlos was dating someone already, so he wasn’t sure why he felt that way. And as for Y/N, she was free to do as she pleased. After all, that date they had talked about last year never even happened. They had no history, no reason for him to feel jealous.
But he did anyway.
Wanting to diffuse the sudden tension settling between the three of them, Y/N exclaimed, “But it’s good to see you again. And you did really well. Congrats on P4, seriously.”
Charles smiled, and for the first time today, it was genuine. He wasn’t entirely satisfied with P4; he had wanted a podium finish and had come close to it. But for some reason, if she was happy, so was he.
“Thanks—” His smile faltered when an arm snaked around his torso, his girlfriend Amélie taking her place beside him and planting a quick kiss on his cheek. Without wasting a second, his gaze shifted to Y/N, just in time to catch the way her eyes widened before she swallowed, her expression now impassive.
Shock and confusion swirled through Y/N’s body. She hadn’t expected Charles to have a girlfriend, so when she felt her heart crack slightly, it made sense. But she wasn’t going to show it—at least, not purposely she wasn’t.
Charles furrowed his brows as he regarded the girl standing in front of him. A pang of guilt nagged at him, though he couldn’t quite pinpoint why: they were never anything more than friends. And judging by the way neither of them had kept up with one another, you could barely even call it that.
Maybe they were more like strangers with a couple of good memories and unfulfilled promises?
“You alright, mate?” asked Carlos, pulling Charles out of his reverie.
Clearing his throat, Charles replied, “Yeah, yeah... Uhm Amélie, this is Y/N, my… friend.” The word came out almost as a question, but he pressed on. “Y/N, meet Amélie, my girlfriend.”
Charles wasn’t sure what he expected, but Y/N’s cheerfulness was definitely not it. “Hey,” she smiled and waved.
Slowly, tensions began to dissipate as all four of them became engrossed in conversation—though in reality, it was more like three. Y/N found herself too preoccupied with the realisation that Charles had a girlfriend now. It was a simple fact, yet it carried a weight: it meant he hadn't spent the year turning down people left and right, like she had, in hopes of a maybe.
One day in 2022
"Y/N, thank God you’re here!" Amélie's voice echoed the moment Y/N stepped into the living room, causing her to freeze in her tracks. "Uh, hey?" she replied, her eyes scanning the partly decorated room before settling on Charles, who sent her a small wave.
She raised her brows and forced a smile, though it faltered quickly—she and Charles had grown apart. Truthfully, Y/N had contemplated not showing up today; faking an illness or something and making sure to stay at home for a few days—Monaco was too small to risk being accidentally spotted.
But she came.
She came because Charles called.
Two days ago, he had called her in the middle of the night, asking if she was planning to fake being sick to avoid seeing him. And he was right—exactly what Y/N had been contemplating. So, when her first phone call with Charles in two years challenged the very idea in her mind that they had grown apart, it confused her. After all, she was sure she was a blank page now, yet he still seemed to be able to read her.
Snapping out of her daze, Y/N watched as Amélie paced erratically, her brows furrowing with every step. "What's going on with her?" Y/N asked, turning to Charles for an explanation.
He chuckled, approaching her. "It's the cake," he explained. "Amélie ordered it, but now it needs to be picked up sooner than planned because they're closing earlier than usual for some reason. So, now we have a problem, obviously."
"Why don't you just go pick it up?" Y/N leaned into him, her voice barely above a whisper, her eyes still fixed on Amélie, who was now engaged in a fervent phone call.
"Apparently, I'm too clumsy."
"You are."
Charles chuckled, but his laughter was cut short when Amélie suddenly gasped, her eyes darting between Y/N and him as she rushed towards them. “Okay, guys, everyone will be here soon. If I stay and finish all this off, you two can quickly go collect the cake. So, if one person drives and the other holds it really tightly, that should work, right?”
“Sounds good,” Y/N chimed in.
“I agree,” Charles added.
“Alright,” Amélie beckoned them out of the living room and towards the front door. “Go on.”
“I love you,” Amélie said, leaning in for a kiss. But as she moved closer, Charles instinctively turned his head, causing her lips to land on his cheek instead of his mouth. His gaze had shifted to Y/N, who stood in the front yard, seemingly fixated on the grass.
“Yeah... love you,” he muttered absentmindedly, his attention still captivated by the girl just a few feet away from him.
Normally, Charles had no issue displaying affection for his girlfriend in front of others, but Y/N made it difficult. Whenever she was around—whether at family gatherings, parties, or Grand Prix events—his eyes always seemed to gravitate towards her.
“Please, don’t take too long!” Amélie shouted as the door slammed shut.
Amidst the occasional chirping of birds, a palpable silence settled between them. Y/N stared into the distance, while Charles observed her from the corner of his eye, noticing subtle changes since their last encounter. Her hair, for instance, was slightly shorter—a minor detail, yet one he couldn't help but notice.
With a loud clap, Charles gestured towards his car, parked discreetly to the side. “That way.”
Following his lead, Y/N entered through the passenger seat. However, as the car sprang to life and its dashboard lights flickered on, Charles let out a frustrated groan.
“What's wrong?” Y/N inquired.
Charles shook his head for a moment, muttering, “I told him to fill up the gas…”
“Oh,” Y/N exhaled, resting her head against the soft leather headrest. “So, what now?”
Charles' eyes lit up with excitement as he sat up eagerly, turning to face her. "We've got some old bikes in the shed, so if you want to—"
"You want us to ride rusty old bikes, while carrying a cake?" Y/N interjected, her serious expression quickly giving way to laughter.
"...Yeah?"
Y/N narrowed her gaze, appraising Charles for a moment before rolling her eyes and pushing the door open. "This is so going to backfire. I can't believe I'm doing this."
Charles couldn't help but smile as he watched Y/N exit the car. He had a feeling she wouldn't turn this idea down, and he was glad he was right. It meant that despite the years, things hadn't changed too much between them. She was still the same Y/N he knew, and he hoped he was still the Charles she was willing to have a date with.
"Don't tell me I'm going to have to do this by myself now. You coming or what?" Her yell pierced through the car, prompting him to jump out and hurry towards the shed.
By the time he finally reached the shed, Y/N had already claimed a bike—and surprisingly, it was his. Charles used to guard that bike fiercely when he was younger, not allowing anyone, not even for a few minutes. But now, as he watched her mount it, he felt no trace of that possessiveness, not even a hint.
Perhaps it was because he had outgrown that childish behaviour, or maybe it was something else entirely. Either way, he couldn't deny the genuine happiness that bubbled up within him at the sight.
Now, if it were Amélie riding his bike at that moment, he wasn't quite sure he would feel the same way.
“Race you to the bakery?” Y/N grinned mischievously.
A wide smile immediately spread across Charles' face. “Sure, once I get my hands on a bike.”
“No,” she retorted, already starting to pedal. “You snooze, you lose.”
Racing to grab Lorenzo’s bike, Charles jumped on it, yelling, “Cheater!”
When he finally caught up to her, Y/N was no longer riding her bike but pulling it alongside her, causing him to slow down beside her. “What’s wrong? Why aren’t you riding?” One corner of his mouth curled upward as he fixed her with a knowing look, coming to a full stop. “Oh, did you finally realise that cheating isn’t the way to go?”
“Says you,” Y/N retorted, though her chuckles rang loud and clear as Charles fell into step with her.
“Anyway,” she pointed down at her bike, “the chain’s come loose. So yeah, I was right, this was a bad idea, and Amélie is going to kill us, and poor Pascale won’t have a birthday cake.”
“Wow, don’t be too optimistic now,” Charles teased, earning an elbow to his side. “We’re not too far from the bakery now, so I say let’s not worry until we get to the ‘how do we get back home in time’ part. What do you say?”
Y/N turned to Charles, her eyes lingering on his features longer than necessary. “Okay,” she finally nodded, “sounds like a plan.”
But her words seemed to fall on deaf ears. In the time she spent gazing at Charles, he had been doing the same, unwilling to move on from that moment quite as quickly as she had.
Stopping in his steps, Y/N continued a few more feet before finally noticing his hesitation and halting her movements, turning back. “Do you want Amélie to murder us?” she joked, but her humour faded when she saw Charles’ serious expression remain unchanged.
“Okay, what’s the matter—”
Charles cut her off with a sigh. “Why don’t we talk anymore, Y/N?”
“What do you mean? We’re talking right now.”
“Come on, seriously,” Charles walked up beside her.
Y/N just shrugged, her mouth suddenly as dry as the Sahara desert. “I don’t know…”
“Well, I don't either, so can we please just start over then?” Charles proposed, his tone tired of the tension and the walking on eggshells. It was too much when all he wanted was to be close to her, to laugh like they used to before everything went haywire.
Y/N looked off to the side, musing over his words for a moment, before meeting his gaze again with a small smile. “Okay, fine, I guess.”
“Wow, you seem really excited,” Charles remarked, flashing a wide grin.
“I really do, don't I? Now, if you don’t mind,” Y/N started walking again, “I really do not feel like being killed today, so let’s fucking go.”
“Alright, alright, I’m coming.”
2:31 ──────ㅇ────── 4:45
#f1 imagine#f1#f1 fic#f1 x reader#f1 fanfic#f1 fanfiction#f1 x you#f1 x y/n#charles leclerc#cl16#charles leclerc fanfic#charles leclerc x reader#charles leclerc imagine#charles leclerc fluff#charles leclerc angst#charles leclerc blurb#charles leclerc x you#f1 fluff#f1 blurb#f1 one shot#f1 drabble#f1 fandom#f1blr#f1 x female reader#charles leclerc one shot#f1 scenario#charles leclerc drabble#cl16 x reader#cl16 one shot#cl16 imagine
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Thoughts on Spy x Family: Family Portrait
I finally got around to reading the SxF light novel, Family Portrait...and I mean "finally" because it's literally been sitting in my shelf since it was first released in English back in December of last year! I was distracted by Code White and the SxF video game which came out around the same time, but even long after that, I was having trouble getting motivated to read it. For some reason, experiencing SxF in novel format instead of in anime/manga just didn't appeal to me, plus the fact that it's not written by Endo himself (these weird preferences of mine are also why I'm not into reading fanfics either). Don't get me wrong, in general I love reading stories in prose form too, but for a series like SxF that already has such an established visual identity, it doesn't feel as "authentic" to me if that makes any sense. But I did want to read it eventually, since it is an official part of SxF media and Endo did the illustrations and does acknowledge the book (he wrote a nice afterword at the end). So I finally sat down and read it in sections over the course of this week! I'll share my brief thoughts on each of the contained stories:
Novel Mission 1
Since this was the first story in the book, it took me a while to get used to experiencing the world of SxF in novel form. There were some things I felt would have been better conveyed in anime/manga, for example, one of the very first gags about Yor misinterpreting Anya's nature class as some sort of hardcore outdoor survival trip. As I was reading that part I was like "I get the joke, but it would have been funnier if I actually saw these images and the characters' expressions with Endo's comedic illustrations." It was also a bit jarring to hear the characters thoughts and feelings from third-person narration, but I got used to it. As for the story itself, it was Damianya focused, something I'm not particularly into, but I don't mind it either. I liked the rare, soft Damian moments, and the thing with the squirrel eating Anya's peanut trail was funny. I also liked the scene at the beginning where Loid and Yor feed Bond together while Anya watches.
Novel Mission 2
Oddly, this was my favorite of the stories! Of all the characters, I think the author nailed Yuri's unhinged thoughts the best - as I was reading, I couldn't help but hear every cringe thought in his voice, which is a good sign of how well the author gets the character! I actually chuckled at a few parts too, both from his insane Yor-obsessed and anti-Loid musings, as well as from his banter with Anya. The police interrogation scene was great and would be even better if it ever gets animated! I also found it interesting that this story has the first instance where we find out what Yuri thinks about Bond (that he's fat and useless - rude!) Also his first time hearing about Franky apparently...makes we wonder if Endo will make him feel the same way if these things ever come up in the manga.
Novel Mission 3
I liked this story a lot too! I think it worked the best in novel format out of all of them, probably because it was more focused on drama and emotions than comedy. It's ironic that the two official SxF stories that feature the deeper side of Franky's character - this one and the omake chapter from volume 13 - are both not even part of the main canon! Alessa would have definitely accepted Franky's job as an informant, but he felt that someone like her should only be surrounded by "beautiful things." The poor man really needs to see that inner beauty matters too, and he has that! I also think he should have swallowed his pride and told Loid the real reason why he wanted the disguise...not that it would have changed the outcome. Poor Franky.
Novel Mission 4
This was a cute Forger-focused story, but like the first one, I felt it had parts that would have been more effective in anime/manga form, for example, "hair monster" Yor and whatever hideous painting Felix ended up making! But despite that, it was still funny and cute. Though I do think the author went a tad overboard with Yor's flustered antics...they just kept going and going, lol. Also, like the movie, we have another scenario of Loid getting flung into the air by Yor but landing gracefully on his feet (though this instance was much tamer since she wasn't drunk and only pushed him instead of hit him). Again, maybe I would have appreciated the humor in this story better if I saw it in anime/manga with Endo's hilarious designs and expressions, but for what it was, it was enjoyable enough.
Short Novel
This extra short story would be perfect as a reintroduction story for a future anime season...maybe one day!
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Overall, the Family Portrait novel is a nice addition to the Spy x Family universe. Even though I feel the humor in the series is most effective in illustrated form, it's still nice to have more stories in the canon, especially ones that show new sides to the characters, like the Franky and Yuri stories. Like the movie, it's debatable if this novel should be considered true canon or not, but personally, I don't find anything in it that contradicts canon, at least not yet. So yeah, definitely check out the novel if you haven't already! 😁
#spy x family#sxf#spy family#spyxfamily#loid forger#yor forger#anya forger#bond forger#damian desmond#yuri briar#franky franklin#sxf family portrait#sxf novel
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hey there! this sounds like a bit of a silly question, but as a trans guy, you’re one of the few trans people i’ve been following almost since i joined tumblr, so based on your other anon ask and answer i figured i’d pop in and ask if you have any advice? if you want to answer, ofc :) — i foresee this being a bit long, so i totally get if not
so i’m also a trans guy, but i haven’t been able to take any steps toward medical transitioning before since i live with my parents. but i’ll move out soon, and i still can’t decide if i should take any of these steps even once i do. i’ve never felt like i particularly wanted to medically transition (i don’t really care about how my body looks + i’ve never really cared about changing any of it), but i would like to be seen a guy — i don’t mind if not so by strangers, but maybe so by like, my friends. but i can’t help but feel like i’d be laughed at for wanting that — i’m not naturally androgynous or masculine looking to others and i have never been mistaken for a guy, because i have really long hair, d cups, and curves. and without medically transitioning, i also kinda feel like i’m… betraying the trans community, since i’m not really putting the effort into my transition and so i’m just ‘pretending’, even though i do know i’m not.
so my question would be: as a trans person who has transitioned, socially and medically, do you think people are more understanding than i think they are currently? do you know of any trans people who don’t want to medically transition, and do you think it’s possible to live fulfilled that way? or even: do you think it would be easier for someone like me to just live a lie? i usually tell people i’m a lesbian, because they definitely would not look at me and assume ‘straight guy’, but also, as a trans person who doesn’t want to medically transition, i’m just always worried that i won’t be taken seriously. i feel like your experience of being trans and probably interacting with the community is much more than mine, which is why i ask this last one — i would try being open myself, but again, i’m still living with my parents unfortunately.
I'll be honest I don't actually really know much "community" save for former art school classmates. I've only known one trans person irl who chose not to medically transition - at the time, Finland's trans law was still shitty and required sterilisation for legal sex change, and all that. She didn't want kids or anything, but refused to engage in the process as her own little personal civilian protest. I don't want to paint some caricature picture of some Sharp Dommy Tall Scary Goth Trans Anarchist, but I was deeply impressed by the way she didn't do a single thing to try to seem smaller, softer, or in any way submissive or docile to be ~feminine~ the right, socially accepted way.
She wasn't just taller than most men but usually the tallest person in the room, and she stood out in a crowd of cis women like a crane in a chicken coop - a bird just as much as they are, but a different kind of bird. And I remember thinking that I could never do that, being so unflinching and unhesitant about standing out in the crowd because assimilating and muting yourself is beneath your dignity.
Honestly, I don't know what to tell you about being openly trans without transitioning medically, save for that it takes more guts than being able to just go stealth. I had physical dysphoria about the way my body was, and was desperate to get top surgery just for the sake of my own physical comfort, and I like the convenient anonymity of being able to just be Just Some Guy who doesn't attract anyone's interest or curiosity.
It's a smart move to not come out to your parents before you're out of their house and not relying on them for anything - this is something everyone should use their own judgement for, but I stress it to every queer kid to not take the risk if there's any chance that they'll react poorly while they still have power over you. But living your whole life in the closet - "living a lie" is a good way to put it - will corrode you from the inside.
It's better to live in peace with yourself and against the world, than in peace with the world against yourself. There is absolutely nothing in your power that you could do to change the minds of people who have already decided that they don't respect you, and if they try telling you that they would, if you only met their approved criteria, they are lying. That's bait they're dangling in front of you, and there's no "earning" the respect of such people.
Stay true to yourself and be good to people, and you'll have the respect of people who are capable of respecting you. Don't waste your time and energy on people who won't respect you, every thought and effort you spare them is wasted on them.
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hello! Do you have works in which crowley's a chef/can cook? Thank you sincerely! x
Hi! Here are some chef Crowley fics...
Flambé by gazing (T)
“Chef Crowley, sir? I don’t think he does special requests-“
“He does for me.” Aziraphale cuts in smoothly. “Tell him it’s Aziraphale.”
-
Alternatively: Aziraphale frequents Devil’s Kitchen, a dessert restaurant in Soho. He’s rather infatuated with the head pastry chef…
Sometimes it's cosmic, sometimes it's cocktail weiners by myladyclegane (M)
All executive chef Anthony J Crowley wanted was a cider and some time with the girls(of the Golden variety) after his double shift, what he gets is playing savior when his best friend and next door neighbor (and desperate crush) has to unexpectedly host a last minute game night for his awful co-workers.
As Sweet As This by vantablck (G)
One moment, Crowley had a high position at a top Michelin rated restaurant. The next, her career was taking a metaphorical million light-year dive into a lake of boiling sulfur and she was moving back into her small childhood town.
Cue Aziraphale, the childhood best friend she’s been pining over since time immemorial. Cue Crowley’s oh so brilliant idea of co-owning a restaurant with her.
Till I Saw You by curiouswriterkr (E)
Crowley is a burned out chef recovering from adrenal fatigue in Tadfield. Aziraphale, a gifted musician with a big, soft heart, happens to be performing one evening at an open mic. Their eyes collide and inevitably, so do their lives, helping each other step into healing, truth and more joy.
Style and Substance by Cabernet_Woebegone (E)
“But y’know, if my boss finds out I’m helping you even a little, they’re gonna throw me out on my ass.”
“Yes, I understand it is a bit of a conflict of interest for you… Is there something I can offer you in return? Something you would like?” Aziraphale questioned hopefully.
You, Crowley thought loudly as he took a second sip. I want to know if you moan when you kiss the same way you do when you try something delicious. I want to know if your lips taste like Zinfandel.
“Yes, actually.”
Aziraphale is having difficulty running his restaurant, and it isn't helping that he believes the place across the street is trying to sabotage him.
To his surprise, chef Crowley comes to him on friendly terms. Together they come up with an arrangement that could benefit them both.
(Explicit rating for chapters 10 , 14 & 17, see tags for description. Please do not record this as a podfic or repost this fic anywhere! Thank you!)
Capellini d'Angelo by AngeliqueTombee (E)
Ezra E. Fell is new to America, the restaurant industry, and to getting positive attention -- especially from men the likes of Chef Anthony Crowley, an award-winning chef who's angling to bag his first Michelin star. Despite both being foreigners in a foreign land, can Ezra and Crowley overcome hellish hours, diabolically bad co-workers, fiendish guests, apocalyptic-feeling hurdles, and all the other rigours of typical industry life and make their relationship work?
And should Crowley even bother aiming for the stars?
- Mod D
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Lets talk about how Danny Phantom loves to push the idea of ¨these two characters must be together because destiny said so¨ and the implications of it!
Okay, for starters there is quite a lot of fans that agree how Danny and Sam gets forced into the show, specially in Season 3. They don't have much development in their relationship around the show because it was a 2000's Butch Hartman show and things have to keep the *status quo*
We know that Marmel wanted for more Valerie and Danny development but he couldn't for continuity issues and probably because Hartman wasn't fond of the ship. It took around 20 episodes for Valerie to have another episode about her since breaking up with Danny in ¨Flirting With Disaster¨.
I say that it makes a lot of sense of why Valerie and Danny's relationship didn't last long in this context because Danny was still keeping secrets from Valerie and still involved a lot of lying- not exactly the best condition to be dating with someone.
So the best solution is for Valerie to learn who Danny is, and then after things get better, they probably can start getting into dating again, right?
Well, sorry, you can't see any of that because this happens in the very last episode of the series, we don't get to see how Valerie reacts to it and it doesn't matter because now Sam x Danny is canon!
Lets talk about that ring:
What bothers me is how, while this episode is about Danny being into Valerie and dating her, the ring that Jack gives to Danny has the name ¨Sam¨ on it. It is like the universe in show is screaming at Danny and the audience ¨See these two are the endgame! Haven't you realized it yet? Well, we are leaving you 100% clear with this¨.
Sarcastic Chorus made a video talking about the show keeps hammering you again and again that Danny and Sam are ¨meant to be together¨ by having characters commenting how everyone can see that except Danny and Sam, who it isn't clear why they don't tell what they feel to each other. He talks about how it gets really frustrating because nothing is exactly happening, people are just waiting for something to happen.
Let's move to ¨Double Cross my Heart¨ we have Gregor/Elliot and Sam falling in love with each other. They seem to share a lot in common, being into similar things. Danny keeps thinking that Elliot is an spy from the GIW and he is after him.
I could get into the implications of Danny stalking Sam in this episode, but the one thing i want to focus on is that by the end of the episode it does get revealed that Elliot had been faking to share similar interests to Sam and was lying to her about who he really was.
Was it because he was a spy from GIW? Nope! It was because he was tricking her into falling in love with him.
What frustrates me about this is the implications this episode gives: ¨If anybody else that likes Sam that isn't Danny, then that means that they are faking it! Danny is the only one who can love Sam and everybody else is trying to trick her¨. It is such a bad message and it sucks a lot for Sam to find someone that is a lot like her and then the writing go ¨sorry, they are a faker¨.
At least for Danny and Valerie made sense because it wasn't intended to work in that context, in ¨Double Cross my Heart¨ it just does dirty to Sam by spitting back in her face any chance of liking someone else that isn't Danny.
And episode that leaves a similar bad taste in mouth to me is Masters of All Time.
I have talked about this before, that in the alternative timeline Vlad and Maddie end up getting married together. Because they didn't want the kids in the audience to think about the implications about how Vlad might have been happier and not turned out evil from the proto lab accident, they had to make human! Vlad go against most of his previous established characterization of his regular self (like not allowing Maddie to use ghost gadgets for some reason) and be an abusive caricature of himself.
It couldn't be that maybe Vlad and Maddie didn't work together well, they have to leave obvious that no, Vlad is the terrible option and that Maddie and Jack are meant to be together. So much so that it said by the characters in the episode!
See, the writers made human! Vlad a piece of shit to leave clear that Maddie can only marry Jack. Because destiny told it so! It isn't like Jack and Maddie are their own people and they can choose whoever they want.
Yeah, Jack and Maddie have to get back together so Danny and Jazz don't become non-existent, but it find it so dumb that they made human! Vlad a weird ass copy of Disney Gaston instead of just writing it in a way that maybe these two clash being a couple. It could be that Maddie finds Vlad nice but Vlad is too busy always working or he isn't as fun as Jack was. Then Maddie realizes that she wants to be with Jack instead.
While having some fun elements, Masters of All Time is an episode that gets dumber and with more weird implications the more you think about it. And telling us that Jack and Maddie have to be together not matter what is one of the reasons.
I just dislike how weird this series is about how ¨destiny told these two characters have to be together¨ and not treating the characters as something they choose to do.
It is also weird how this seems to apply to the female characters, in how Sam and Maddie, the moment they like someone else that isn't Danny nor Jack, then it turns out that person has to be abusive or be faking it. Itis like the show says they ¨belong¨ to Jack and Danny and they can't be with anyone else because then it would be bad.
It is as a whole pretty frustrating
#danny phantom#danny fenton#sam manson#jack fenton#maddie fenton#Valerie gray#vlad masters#human! Vlad#Flirting with disaster#Masters of all time#Double cross my heart#dp rant
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Hello love, I read your masterpost about color theory and I find the last part about how Eddie is wearing a lot of black in season 7 interesting, because it caught my attention too.
Do you have any more ideas about that? Because every episode we get more moments of Eddie wearing black in important scenes, like him meeting Shannon's clone in today's episode!
Have a good day!
Hi, darlings, thoughts on the black. I have thoughts on the black and I have theories about the black, but I actually only solidified them after talking about it with @stagefoureddiediaz and honestly, if you want costume analyses she's the blog to go because her insights get me mindblown all the time because she talks a lot about patterns I kinda saw but didn't fully understand were there, so seriously, props to her with this one.
But to talk about Eddie in black, I'm gonna go back to Shannon in s2. And his love interests in general.
Shannon was a character that was always wearing color, and she always wore warm, bright tones, and considering Eddie's earthy, somewhat muted, still army colors palette, she literally brings color to his life. They go as far as making this quite literal in 213, because the hospital scene, Shannon is literally a point of color in this very dark moment, since most people around are in darker colors, her orange stands out. And obviously, the yellow she died in is a staple.
Ana was very muted when it was about the 2 of them, she was allowed color when it was about Chris, but about Eddie, it was black, white, or soft colors.
Marisol also follows that same pattern, she's mostly in black and white adjacent stuff, but she was allowed color during Chris' date and when Eddie was daydreaming Shannon. But with Marisol is worse, because Ana was allowed he's baby blue outfits, and Eddie had color around her, Marisol is just whites, greys, and blacks. And Eddie too. She brings no color to the table.
And the thing is, Eddie has been looking for the yellow. In very simple terms the dude has been looking for the color he thinks Shannon was supposed to bring to his life. I think that was even more exemplified by the way the daydream about Shannon didn't have the usual muted colors flashbacks have in the show.
And the thing is, black is the absorption of all colors, right? Dude is trying to find something to absorb, to get that color, but he has nothing to show for it because these relationships don't bring color to his life in any way. I think this even ties to the way he keeps getting hit by the sun when it comes to Buck or gets some random pops of color even if his outfit is black when he's around Buck, maybe even the random rainbow lens fair that keeps happening this season on him. But he is trying to force something that's not there and it's never gonna be there, if you mix black with white all he's gonna keep getting is grey. And when you think about the implications of black, the association with mystery, something hidden, and, yeah, even mourning, Eddie being consistently in black can also be a way for him to hide behind the ghost of Shannon and never face what he's actually searching for, because he can't get what he wants. He will never have the future he planned with Shannon, he's never gonna be able to fix the mistakes he's made. He needs Shannon to tell him is okay he fucked up, but that can never happen because she's dead so he's holding on to the widow status. It's something I talk about a lot, Eddie was always written to be the tortured widower, even when Shannon was alive, he already had the archetype, and considering we found out they met when they were 14, Shannon is literally all he knows, but the Eddie we meet and deal with, only knows her when she left him and he's searching for that color the plans you can only make when you're a teenager going through you first love give. But considering the black he also has nothing to give this woman he meets in this quest, he's not reflecting anything back because he wants a do-over and that's not something someone can give him.
Also, no one asked but I gotta say it, I am obsessed with the way Kim is blue where Shannon was yellow/orange, but she is also in neutral colors when interacting with Eddie.
And he is still very much in black interacting with her.
But the blue/yellow thing is interesting because when you look at a color wheel, they are on opposite sides. They are complementary colors and complementary colors create contrast and it's very deliberate the way Shannon was warm-toned and Kim is cool-toned.
But the idiot (affectionate) is still in black, because he's not reflecting what he needs, he's absorbing what he thinks he wants.
But that's just a theory, a game theory. (Sorry, I read this back and my brain filled the space with this, I had to say it okasoasoaksas)
if you read this, I love you 💜
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So I've been politically active since before I was even eligible to vote. I've followed North American politics near religiously since 2014, and I've been a card-carrying member of my country's most prominent left-wing party since before the start of the pandemic. I barely slept at all during the week Ukraine was full-scale invaded, and I've been stressed about it every day for the last two years, given that my grandfather was born there and I've very much wanted to visit someday. And this was all before the horrific debacle of October 7th, and the subsequent atrocities committed against Gaza practically every day since. Lately I've weaned myself off a lot of international news and been more active in local politics because that's where I feel my efforts have been more effective, but...
...the reality is I am tired. I am so fucking tired.
I blacklisted just about everything remotely political when I made this blog because I wanted this space to be my escape from all of that. He is my escape from all of that. A badly needed one, because between the state of the world, the state of my country, the state of my workplace and the state of my personal life, my mental health has been....not very good for most of this decade and last.
I know this is unhealthily cynical, but as someone who had some pretty shitty friends in the past, and continues to have some incredibly shitty family members, including my own father (who, despite having Käärijä levels of charisma and putting on an excellent act in public, has repeatedly hurt me and let me and others down when we needed him most)....I expect famous people I admire to disappoint me. I very much expect famous men I admire to disappoint me. It may be in three days, or in three months, or in three years, or in thirty years, but it will happen at least once, if not multiple times.
Which is why I don’t-and never have-looked up to musicians or any other celebrity for guidance on my political or moral beliefs. It's a surefire way to set yourself up for not only disappointment but feelings of betrayal towards someone who was never "loyal" to you in the first place. And I wish so many people didn't learn that lesson far too late.
I don't like Jere Mikael Pöyhönen because of his insightful commentary on the state of geopolitics. To be extremely blunt, I like him because he's hot and he entertains me, both of which bring me happiness. Once I no longer feel that happiness, I'll move on to other interests, just as I always have. It would be very nice, however, if that day came in thirty years rather than in three. Which is why I felt relief when he expressed his wish to remain politically neutral, even regarding politics in his own country.
That being said....am I disappointed he went to you-know-what? Yes, for reasons both political and non-political. Am I disappointed that he willingly interacted on camera with you-know-who? Yes. In fact there are several things he has done and people he has associated with that I'm not particularly happy about. But in this case do I understand WHY he went and why he interacted with them? Also yes.
I don't believe he had any malicious intent, quite the opposite. His kindness is both his greatest strength and his greatest weakness-he is kind to the point that he foolishly undermines his own credibility. I don't know if there's an equivalent of Hanlon's Razor in Finnish but it goes "never attribute to malice that which is adequately explained by stupidity".
And.....well. This is a guy who couldn't tell the Ukrainian esc23 representatives from the Greek ones. Who didn't know what the trans flag was until he was personally handed one last year. Who, AFAIK, has never received any sort of higher education (vocational school would still sort of be considered such where I live, but whatever) not that that automatically makes someone "smart" and others "stupid", but it can and often does help with understanding international issues. And based on my overall experience with hockey fans/players (of which he's both)...they typically aren't terminally online debating anything besides individual player and team statistics.
So I'm not shocked that he didn't think about how Just Being Nice on camera with that representative would look to others outside of his own bubble. How that would not have looked particularly "neutral". But he should have, considering this isn't the first time he's had to deal with angry internet mobs coming after him for a relatively minor mistake. Considering his favourite band got into very hot water last year and dealt with the controversy very poorly for too long.
Is it fair that I can block some tags, turn off the tv, and get on with my day, while he has to worry about his image the moment he leaves home? No. But...this is the inevitable downside of the life he wanted. Unlike me, he now has an audience of millions, a not-insignificant number of whom are going to be thinking about this stuff, meaning he needs to as well. And if not, he needs to pay someone to think about it for him. Goodness knows he can afford it now. I can do without all that pyro if it means none of us have another week like this one.
#käärijä#sorry this was still more rambling than i intended#but i wanted to give personal context as to why i appreciate his neutral stance#and why i don't like putting celebrities on such high pedestals#also fuck the ebu#for so many reasons#they don't deserve him
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Hazbin Oc voiceclaims LETS GOO
Ok so I've been brewing a bit and have been kinda busy. I got one last exam coming up and then I'm FREEEEE but I wanted to push something simple out so I decided to do voice claims because that is somehow easy (not)
These are partially for the scott pilgrim au, it makes it a bit more immersive to me
Anywayyysss: Heres the video of the voices (it's 4.5 min I'm so sorry)
and if ur interested: let me break down whyyy :3 + small oc blip (I still don't really know how to chracterize them it's all over the place) they go in order of appearance
Micheal: Johnathan Groff
Micheal is pretty closed off and cold. His answers are cold and short, and he doesn't like wasting time. Working 24/7 is his way of ignoring everything bad that has ever happened to him, until recently. He's trying to go back to his roots and have some fun. B4, in Eden he was basically a fun loving party guy who liked to bend the rules, but since his brother's betrayal, he grew angry and to snuff it out he just worked super hard. Super straight laced. But after a while he's trying to be silly again, people find it weird though because it's just been so long.
Initially, I wanted something deep- like deep deep. And while true, Micheal could have a fitting deep voice-
I think Groff just fits really well. He hits all my boxes.
His voice is rich and smooth but has a bit of dorkiness to it?? (Kristoff) The closest thing I can go into describing my Micheal is, again, an ex frat boy that caught depression when things got too real but now is recovering and healing. Idk Groff's voice just gave the vibe. His voice is kinda similar to Jordan's (Lucifur's va) imo, especially when they sing. Of cousre they're not gonna sound identical, but its like Emily and Charlie, it's just similar when they sing. Also Groff can pull off a rocker voice (the Bohemian Rapsody clip) and I need that. I want that rocker Micheal FEAFSEF
In general though, Groff has been my #1 option. Not just for my Micheal, but like, a lot of Micheals I've seen. I look at them and all I can hear is Groff soooo. Yeah. I also think that if Micheal were to be part of the actual series and be Lucifur's twin he'd be the kinda guy they're looking for. But yeah, hes always been #1 choice
Gabriel: Chris Fleming/Jshlatt
Gabriel balances out Micheal's colder demeanor. He's loud and a bit obnoxious about. But overall, this man is a goober. He's a man that can't keep a secret and keeps it real, a bit too real this man is way too honest. Won't shut up once you get him going especially when he's excited. It's bad when he peaks at one emotion because he goes all out. Overtime he's gotten better but still out af.
I wanted Gabriel to have some sort of gruffness. Some edge. Gabriel's thing is spreading the word of God and all but I can't think of him having a smooth voice. (I mean he yells all the time, how can he not???) I wanted something expressive, loud and gruff. A voice that you know does not stfu and does not hold back.
Fleming came to mind when I head him from bigtop burger (love that series) his voice is fun, low and gruff. Jshlatt was recommended by one of my friends when I showed them Gabriel. I was pretty unfamiliar with him b4 and when they showed me him my jaw dropped. His voice is what I kinda want it to be, just a bit higher. And the singing voice fits really well too :)
Raphael: James Earl Jones/Thurl Ravenscroft/Nat King Cole
Raphael is supposed to be this chill soft guy you can go to for comfort. He's like a marshmallow of a man and can be very empathetic. But underneath all that is a unit of a man who could throw you thousands of yards away.
I wanted something rich, deep and smooth. I had to ask my friend again with this one and we got Mufasa (James Earl Jones) Fits really well! So yes, smooth and soft, but an underlying tone of powerful. I also wanted his to have just a lot of bass to it. Something you could sleep to. Why Nat King Cole for the last option? I genuinely have no clue but it fit to me so I slapped it on this bad boy.
Azreal/Dumah: Steve Blum
Ok. Both of them are idiots. My version of them anyways. They fight a lot. I mean when you are suck together it’s bound to happen (They share one body but only one can take full control at one time- mostly Azreal because Dumah hates people. I’ll just show you guys one day. They can separate but only when they are given permission. Big fussy babies). They finish each other’s sentences a lot when talking. Azreal is the goofier brother who likes making jokes and Dumah is the more serious one. When retrieving souls Azreal is the one who takes it while Dumah judges. Dumah hates when people joke while on the job (he hates Azreal for this this) but he hates it even more when they go against God's word. Azreal could give less of a crap, he just finds reaping super fun.
Blum fit for me after watching Puppycat seeing his role as space outlaw. It shows his ability to be goofy but his other roles consist of also very serious characters which fits Dumah and Azreal pretty well. Blum has this crazy rasp about thing going on (is that what it is?) it makes him stand out which fits for the angels that deal with the dead. Makes you very awake imo. Idk there’s just something about it. While Azreal and Dumah share the same voice, Azreal is higher than Dumah’s. What I mean by that is (when looking at the audio clip from the video) when Blum’s voice is generally higher, that’s Azreal. When it’s pitches lower that’s Dumah. Dumah in general doesn’t speak much unlike Azreal- they’re what comes to mind when people think of introvert and extrovert lol
Sadly I couldn't find a sining voice for him :(
Eve: Lisa Hannigan
To me, Eve holds a lot of motherly energy. She's soft and kind, but she actually holds similar feelings to Adam about sinners. Don't get me wrong, she feels bad for their eternal punishment, but in the end, it's on them. Like, if she was presented with the hotel, she'd comply but try to take over it becoming this overbearing presence that would put you in your place without lifing a finger if you didn't fird her standard. If she'd hear one complain shed be like, "i know it sucks but really, you did this to yourself." But besides that, to everyone else, she's kind. In heaven, she's recluse, only really going to Adam for anything. Her punishment on earth did something to her, and unlike Adam, she does not like seeking comfort from others. Shes subtle about it, but you can easily tell by the vibes she gives off - they are STRONG (Idk about this over all this may change)
I feel like this is kinda a given. Then again it could be just me. I wanted Eve to have this soft motherly vibe. Like her voice is just barely above a whisper sometimes, but is still kinda deep. Blue diamond came to mind like immediately. There were other options like Esmeralda’s VA, especially the one from the musical, but I wanted to give Eve this sense of solemn, sort of driftyness and chill. Ngl her character really resonates with blue diamond so it kinda just fell into place. It’s in contrast to Adam’s sharper and more gruff voice, where he can hit more highs, she hits more lows.
Eve is literally Adam’s other half (and while in my au they aren’t in love anymore or maybe they were never in love at all idk, they were definitely soulmates who loved each other dearly)
Again, notes on the floor and everywhere. They thoughts are always super scatterbrained
But yeah that’s pretty much it! If you guys have any recommendations or suggestions yourself feel free to tell me I am welcome to anything!!!
#hazbin hotel#hazbin hotel michael#hazbin hotel raphael#hazbin hotel gabriel#hazbin hotel eve#hazbin hotel azrael#hazbin hotel dumah#hazbin hotel au#hazbin hotel ocs#voice claim#pls be kind im so bad at making ocs :')#i will get to that scott pilgrim au tho trust
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[brief note: this is an utter shambles and has not AT ALL been proof read(though I did delete a whole plot point cuz it was annoying me), feel free to IGNORE COMPLETELY plot holes, mistakes and cringe fail moments, Thanks!!]
The two of them sat silently in the office, the night nurse (aka Charlie) and Crystal were both otherwise occupied, he couldn’t remember specifically what they were up to; he was too busy thinking. Edwin sat peacefully in his chair, some humongous hardback about the science of superstition cracked open in his lap, too heavy to hold up for a long time. Charles was absentmindedly staring at the screen of the laptop Crystal had left playing. He wasn’t particularly interested in ‘Brooklyn 99’ at the moment though, his thoughts were occupied entirely with ways to convince his partner to relax. Edwin had been a little more stiff recently, especially after the confession, his relief about being free from hell had been extremely short lived. Maybe it was Charles who had made him this way, he didn’t think he’d changed at all since the confession. But perhaps he was quieter, after all, it was a lot to think about.
He glanced away from the laptop, his eyes trailing around the room until they laid themselves on his fellow detective, who had moved significantly since he last looked around. He had removed his jacket, rolled up his sleeves and flopped uncharacteristically haphazardly next to him.The book he had apparently given up on reading (in favour of watching the season three Halloween heist) was already neatly in its usual place. Charles blinked, bewildered. Edwin actually looked relaxed, at a small stretch, chilled out even. Somehow his hair had fallen out of its pristine gel chrysalis and into loose, albeit still neat curls.
What the fuck was going on?
“Charles, are you alright?”
“Yeah..yeah mate just didn’t think you’d watch this sort of thing is all”
Charles shook his head, reminding himself that he should be glad his co-detective was relaxing.
“I like to see how other detectives operate”
He hummed in response, watching Edwin from the corner of his eye. He observed him watch excitedly, whilst he didn’t seem to understand the jokes he appeared to be thoroughly enjoying himself. Charles didn’t think he’d ever see the day that Edwin Payne was at ease, but here he was, his appearance flickering occasionally as he relaxed more. You see, ghosts have to make a conscious effort to keep an appearance, but Edwin seemed to have forgotten it as he relaxed. His black hair curled gently without its wax pomade prison, his clothes were the same, but seemed much less stiff as his body untensed. Charles decided he liked this look quite a bit.
He sat quietly, thinking about their conversation on the stairs out of hell.. whilst they had forever to figure themselves out, forever wasn’t as long as he’d originally thought it would be, he thought it’d take him a couple of years, maybe even decades to make up his mind. But something had pried his eyes open. It had been six months, and he had decided.
But he wasn’t going to say anything.
Not yet.
After a while he found himself closing his eyes, whilst ghosts couldn’t sleep, they didn’t need to, so why would they, they had something very similar. This form of ghost sleep wasn’t for physical tiredness, it was more for mental tiredness than anything. As his eyes began to close Charles slumped over, his head resting on Edwin’s shoulder. His mind fluttered in and out of his sleeping state, occasionally his eyes would flick open momentarily. Sometimes Edwin would be peering down at him, presumably checking on him, other times he’d feel the cold brush of the other ghosts fingers on the back of his neck. The final time his eyes opened he had been laid properly on the sofa in the corner of their office, his head resting on one of the slightly moth-eaten cushions instead of Edwin’s shoulder.
His partner chuckled from the other side of the office, he could see the setting sun through the big window behind the desk. How long had he been asleep?
Edwin looked up from his files, a light smile playing on his lips.
“Good Evening Charles”
He blinked slowly.
“You drool when you sleep” he said matter of factly “did you know that? A client came in whilst you slept, if you’d like to come and take a look?”
Charles hauled himself off of the sofa and gave a small nod, approaching to lean over the desk to get a better look at the files.
“What’re we looking at?” He tilted his head, unable to figure out what the image in front of him was, it was dark and grainy, and quite frankly the worst photo he’d ever seen.
“Apparently it’s some sort of spirit projecting music box”
“Right. And who’s house phone took this?”
Edwin tutted and rolled his eyes, shutting the file with a hefty thump. “You know full well haunted objects don’t appear well on camera”
Charles hummed, pulling on his jacket and shouldering his bag. Truthfully he couldn’t really be bothered to go and exorcise a music box, but he was getting paid so he sort of had to.
“You’re awfully quiet today”
Charles scoffed playfully, feigning annoyance.
“Don’t be a knob”
Edwin smiled, a rare sight.
The apartment they arrived in was neat, it didn’t look all that lived in. In fact Charles probably would’ve thought it was one of those weirdly posh show homes had it not been for the dishes in the sink and the photos on the wall. Edwin had explained the case before they left, the average everyday, ‘I’m stuck and don’t know why’ sort of case. Whoever lived here wasn’t home often. It didn’t take them long to find the music box. It was producing a purplish mist, which was peppered with little images, all moving sort of mechanically.
“Fascinating” Edwin whispered, extremely close to his ear as he peered at the images, his eyes widened, fraught with childish excitement.
Charles didn’t say anything.
He just watched.
The mist was full of well loved memories, intricately detailed. One that caught his eye seemed to be from a wedding, the joy in the eyes of the couple before him would have made his stomach churn had it been possible.
“Right!” Edwin broke the silence, chirpier than usual “lets sort this out shall we?”
Charles shook himself from his daze and walked towards the music box.
“Could have something important in? Like jewellery”
“Mhm..maybe”
Edwin followed him over, flipping up the lid.
The inside of the box was just as ornate as the outside, carefully detailed with a green velvet, which was patterned with little white swans. At the bottom of it lay a vial, it was tiny, and filled with grey sand.
Ashes.
Charles thought carefully, ashes were supposed to be scattered, maybe they weren’t supposed to be in the box?
“Maybe that’s why she’s stuck here? Ashes aren’t meant to be just chucked in a box are they?”
Edwin nodded, picking up the vial “worth a try, we can’t let too much out though, they’re probably here for sentimental reasons, especially since they’ve not been scattered”
As soon as they’d tipped the ashes onto the street below the music box stopped abruptly, time to leave.
Edwin shrugged “anticlimactic, yet successful, come along Charles”
He paused “are you alright? You’re quiet”
“Yeah, fine”
His partner looked at him quizzically.
“I’ll talk about it when I’m ready, alright?”
“Alright” Edwin placed a hand on his back. “Whatever it is, it’s alright.”
“Yeah” he mumbled dismissively, strolling through the mirror on the wall by the door.
Weeks passed, Edwin’s concern grew massively. Charles was quiet around him most of the time nowadays, he spoke to the others as he usually did. In cases he seemed to talk more, but when silence fell he was preoccupied. This particular evening, Edwin had cornered him near the bookshelves.
“Something is on your mind”
“No, I’m just…tired”
Edwin raised an eyebrow, Charles withered slightly beneath his gaze, doing his best to run from his partner's chasing eye.
“You can tell me anything you know” he sighed, leaving Charles be in the corner, and dropping onto the sofa, his hands folded neatly in his lap, his expression expectant.
“I know- I just-“ Charles sat next to him, his fists gripping at the material of his trousers.
“If this is about what I said-“
“It is.”
“You’re not obliged to actually figure it out, I just needed you to know” he placed a hand on Charles’ arm, doing his best to reassure him that he was safe, and that everything was fine.
“I already figured it out.”
Edwin paused, his fists meeting in front of him and pressing together, his lips pressed into a thin line.
He cleared his throat.
“Okay.”
“Okay.” Charles nodded, he took a sharp intake of breath, turning to face his partner, Edwin’s eyes were glassy, his own were pouring silently with tears “I think..”
Three loud thumps on the door.
Edwin cleared his throat and hastily wiped his eyes with the wisteria patterned handkerchief tucked into his inside pocket. Giving Charles his own time to pull himself together.
“Come in”
A woman’s head poked round the door, her blonde hair following in thick golden waves.
“Dead boy detectives?” Her eyes danced between the two.
Charles nodded “that’s us, what can we do for you?”
The woman hesitated.
“I need you to steal a painting”
The two of them blinked and turned to look at eachother.
“Pardon?”
Edwins bewildered tone made Charles chuckle to himself. The woman repeated what she had said.
“From where?”
The rest of the woman’s body entered the room, she was dressed extravagantly, she looked like a 70s hippie who had access to an IOS ecosystem.
“There’s an art gallery, just down the road, and this one painting, well it’s mine, and it’s the last thing I painted before I died. And that bitch nicked it”
The boys looked at eachother.
Art heist first, feelings later.
Three of them stood around the table, Crystal, Edwin and Charles. All crowded around the plans they had managed to acquire from the internet. Edwin was explaining in detail how they would get in, and whilst he was listening, Charles briefly took a moment to admire the way he moved so naturally when he was in the zone.
11PM
The three of them approached the steps to the gallery, there wasn’t any physical security, but there was definitely CCTV, the signs said so.
“You’re 100% about this plan, Edwin?”
Crystal looked at the boy quizzically, slightly worried something would go severely wrong.
“95%, it’s good to leave a margin for error, and besides, it’s the only plan we’ve got”
Crystal shrugged, still apparently sceptical but she still managed to use her psychic things to overtake the cameras. Which was a little bit odd, because cameras don’t have minds. But they didn’t have time to question it.
Charles and Edwin slipped easily through the wall, whilst they couldn’t be seen on camera, a floating stolen painting definitely could be.
He looked around, peering at the paintings in low light.
“Oi Edwin, what did she say it looks like again?”
“Alls i remember is that it is blue, and yellow and swirly and has cars”
Charles sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose.
“Like this fuck off massive one in the corner”
Edwin turned
“Oh yes, that one” he said, half heartedly cheerful
It took them half an hour to smuggle the painting through the fire exit, it was taller than both of them, and just slightly more narrow than the door, once they were far away enough Crystal dropped the cameras back down, gasping for air. It had clearly taken a lot out of her. The two of them walked her home, hoping she didn’t faint from exhaustion on the way before they returned the painting to the grave of the ghost they had stolen it for.
Once they were back in the office the two of them celebrated, another successful case, recently they had both learnt the art of fist bumps.
After a little while of sorting paperwork, (and Charles recounting the case to be much more epic than it actually was) the two of them settled in front of the laptop, excited to continue with their most recent show. Edwin wasn’t really watching, he was sort of preoccupied with what he and Charles had almost discussed yesterday evening. Was Charles okay? Like at all? In love with him or not Charles was important.
He leant forward, pausing the episode.
Charles looked at him.
“About last night-“
His partner's eyes averted, looking anywhere he could.
“Yeah..”
“You never finished what you were going to say.”
Charles nodded, breathing deeply. “I figured it out..I- well I think I did anyway.”
“Your verdict?” Edwin prompted, gentle as always.
“I want to try. I just wish it was easy, I wish we could be easy”
“We never have been, have we?”
He laughed and shook his head. Edwin was right, the two of them were never easy, every turn was a challenge or an obstacle. And he was okay with that, so long as it meant he could be with his best mate.
“If you are ready, we can try, if not, I will be here, mainly because I don’t want to leave and also because I can’t”
Charles nodded “we can try, slow yeah?”
“So, what would we call this, trying thing?”
“Whatever we call it, us is us”
Edwin smiled, holding his hand out.
Charles took it.
“That was well cheesy by the way” he added, squeezing Edwin’s hand.
He chuckled, nudging him. “Get lost”
Weeks followed, the agency had been relatively quiet lately, Crystal was at school, and the night nurse was on some errand or another. The two of them lay on the small area of grass not too far from the office, Edwin had propped himself up on Charles’ legs, reading one of the books he’d received for his birthday. Charles had decided most recently that instead of doing his own thing he’d watch Edwin read. He liked the way his eyes travelled the paper with such intrigue, and the way his brows furrowed when he’d come across something particularly interesting.
Recently, Edwin had taken up some informalities, particularly the contraction of Charles’ name. He’d never really liked the name Charlie, thought it was too childish, too soft and careful for him. But he’d grown to appreciate it, it didn’t change him after all.
Edwin had also taken up things like ‘love’ and sometimes flitted between calling him his partner or his ‘other half’ when referring to him with clients. Each time he did these things Charles found his heart thudding, faster than if he’d have been sprinting. They hadn’t kissed yet. Each time they got close they were interrupted, either by their own nerves or someone coming through the door.
He poked at his partner, knowing full well that he was somehow ticklish even in his ghostly state. Edwin squirmed, looking over at him.
“Any good?” Charles nodded towards the book
“Mhm” Edwin nodded, settling back down to continue.
“Which one is this again?”
“Wuthering heights”
He nodded, deeming it stuffy and boring, it sounded like some sort of snobby gated community. Edwin settled back down, entirely absorbed in the story. Charles himself continued to look around, the World Cup was on later, and he could already hear the chants in the pub a street over.
A short while later he found himself rather bored, everyone seemed to have gone inside to watch the football or disappeared in some way from around them.
“Don’t suppose there’s any chance of a walk? My legs have gone dead”
“Your legs cannot go dead Charles, because you are dead”
“Yeah well, I’m bored, please can we go and do something?”
Edwin closed his book and sat up, looking at him.
“Like what?”
“Go for a walk, go and watch the match, snog in the board game cupboard, I’m not fussed”
Edwin swatted at him, missing and quickly being parried with a playful shove.
“You come up with something then Mr Prim and Proper”
“I’d say we could go and watch the match, but I guarantee everyone in there is completely blotto”
Charles laughed through his nose “blotto?”
“You know what I mean.”
He hummed in response, spreading out on the grass to look at the gradually darkening sky. He thought for a moment about the past few weeks, and how he’d been happier since he’d been able to be truthful about his feelings. Charles turned his head, observing as his partner watched the people chanting in the street, it must be half time he thought, tracing Edwin’s face with his eyes.
He liked the way that his partner didn’t seem to mind at all.
Then he heard something.
A little respect by erasure, absolutely blasting from someone’s upstairs window.
He grinned and pulled Edwin to stand with him, whilst it wasn’t his usual genre, it was still a tune.
“What on earth are you doing?” Edwin scuttled to his feet, laughing as Charles danced carelessly and admittedly with no skill whatsoever.
“Dancing, try it!”
“Respectfully love, that is not dancing”
He grinned.
“Well if you’re so good, teach me”
Edwin arches his eyebrow, a playful smirk twitching at his lips. Before he could think Charles was swept into a very well choreographed dance, and whilst it was old fashioned, it was fast paced and it was fun.
He laughed, allowing himself to be swung around. One of his partners hands was resting on his waist, the other had taken his own hand. The two of them messed around on the small area of green for a while before they collapsed into fits of giggles, somehow out of breath with their lack of lungs.
“That..” he gasped “was mint”
Edwin laughed, slinging his arm around Charles’ shoulder. He wasn’t stiff anymore, he was still proper and neat, but he was casual now.
The two of them walked the short distance home, playfully bickering despite being hand in hand. He liked that ghosts could feel other ghosts, he liked that he got to be real and alive with Edwin, even if it was short lived.
#paynland#charles rowland#edwin payne#dead boy detective agency#payneland#paineland#chedwin#dead boy detectives#my writing
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The Devil's Chord! This was my most highly anticipated episode of the series because of The Beatles - who I'm very nostalgic for, sue me - but they had a much smaller part than I expected. That may be for the best, as the actors don't look anything like the real deal, but they did an admirable job considering the circumstances.
I love the idea behind this one. I'm a musician myself and love things about music. Music being important, music being holy, I love it all. Everything from Maestro playing us into the theme tune, to the way it aligns with the characters' established personalities (the Doctor's jukebox and Ruby's band), made me very happy. The music battle was especially cool. Very The Devil Went Down to Georgia. Out there, but I liked it a lot.
Maestro was also a lot. I liked them, though. Great costumes, great performance. A campy villain in the best way. They're the Toymaker's child, which is interesting in itself, and I like that the rules around fair play seemed to extend to them as well.
There was a lot of series arc stuff here. So, Ruby has Carol of the Bells deeply ingrained within her. There was some important figure (another of the Pantheon, presumably) at her birth - is Ruby herself a child of the Pantheon? More snow, as well. There's also the One Who Waits coming up again. It all feels a little too self-conscious and crammed in - "remember, there's pay-off coming for these random mysteries that you have no context for!". I know we live in an era of heavily serialised media, in large part because of streaming and the binge model, and obviously Doctor Who has been semi-serialised since the revival, but it just seems like a lot. Maybe even too much, especially since the first episode was quite heavy with it too.
Although, I did wonder if this one was meant to be later in the series. First Ruby saying "you never hide" and then "you always know what to do" signaled a far longer association with the Doctor than she has had, but then it was especially jarring when she said it was hard to keep track of when her time is and it could be June or July... That sounds like someone who's been travelling with the Doctor for a while, not like someone who's on their second trip. And it was Christmas for her only last episode. Obviously there can be off-screen trips, but usually for the first couple of episodes we want to feel that this is the start of their journey as the audience gets to know them. Did this get plucked from later in the series and dropped into the episode 2 slot? Because it seems a bit of a shame, if so.
There was a lot of fourth wall breaking in this one as well. There was a wink to camera each from Maestro and the Doctor, as well as the Doctor's comment about thinking the music was non-diegetic (a nice little moment that probably a lot of people will miss). I do quite like a meta moment, and particularly loved the Twelfth Doctor's partaking in them, but I wonder if these serve a particular purpose, because we also had Mrs Flood talking to camera at the end of the Christmas special. Since RTD seems to be going with a theme that the rules of the universe have changed and become a bit more magical, I wouldn't be surprised if the meta elements tied in somehow.
Then, this is less meta and more fully surreal, but that whole ending musical number was... odd. I don't know what I think about it yet. The Doctor with his wink and "there's always a twist at the end" seemed to signal that we were leaving the normal reality of the show, but then... Did that musical number literally happen? How about the Abbey Road zebra crossing acting like a piano? It's part of my specific brand of autism that I struggle with surreal things when it's not clear how/whether they relate to the more realistic things going on, so maybe other people love it. It just made me feel confused, though, and slightly annoyed. I expected a musical number because the trailers showing this made that fairly clear, but I'd assumed it would be explicitly connected to the strange happenings of the episode. Instead it's just plonked at the end after everything has been fixed.
A lot of this latter stuff sounds quite negative, but overall I really liked this one! As I said before, the music stuff speaks to me personally very much, and I'll withhold final judgement about the serialisation stuff and even the meta/surreal stuff, as it may well pay off yet.
Small things
Love their outfits so much, and obviously we've known about them for a while, but it was funny they were worried about blending in when both of them (especially Ruby) were wearing pretty 60s adjacent outfits at the start. The Doctor was more 70s, but I don't think many people would have looked askance.
Ahhhh, Fifteen mentioning that One was in the junkyard made me exceedingly happy! The speculation about what happened to Susan also has me hoping beyond hope that this might be set-up for a Susan return.
I loved that extended instrumental scene where Ruby just played on the rooftop and people listened. It was quite moving!
Love hearing the word "lesbians" on Doctor Who <3 - I don't think even Bill explicitly got to use that word!
Just the general queerness is really nice. Ruby writing a song for her friend's gay break up. Maestro being they/them and it not really being a thing beyond their introduction. Ruby's mum having a "girlfriend" who was a Beatles fan that makes me wonder if that's in the platonic or gay sense.
I want to know the behind the scenes details of how they chose the music they did, especially when it comes to the chords that both summon and banish Maestro.
Henry the child is real and alive at the end! (Though it's during the musical number, so I guess real is dubious.) When he vanished into nothingness (and his music teacher didn't seem to care), I had thought he wasn't real. Does he have his own world-ending powers?
The Doctor referring to bigeneration as having had his soul "torn in half". Hmm, don't like that! I won't rehash my feelings on bigeneration here, but this implies that there is not continuity between the end of Fourteen and the start of Fifteen, which mucks up one of the only ways I could hold onto being just about okay with it.
#doctor who#the devil's chord#mine#dwmine#reactions#doctor who spoilers#dwspoilers#it's not even a good musical number#oh well#also the susan thing has me genuinely very very hopeful#please please please bring back carole ann ford while you still can#and obviously if you do bring back susan she had better be played by carole ann ford#dwe15
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Idk if i'm just crazy but i noticed that there is a pattern with something that Uraraka does, is punctuated immediately after something Katsuki did before to Izuku and vice versa. I feel like this somehow highlights a difference between their intention and meaning for him. Like i'm sure this might be just a big coincidence but still.
well who knows really! The first thing that comes to mind to me is how Ochako helped Deku when he fell at the beginning, by being on the side/ behind him and using her quirk to avoid it, and Katsuki holding him facing each other, running to get to him faster than the rest -including Iida, whose quirk is literally about that!
But also the whole Deku thing; personally, because the author admitted he didnt intent to have Katsuki as a positive part of Izuku's life at first, I believe the reason for these introductions was clear: Bekugou, his childhood friend, opposes him and creates "Deku" as an insult to put him down, and will always mean that to him, while Ochako, a new friend he meets when starting his hero school, changes it creating something new and fresh so Izuku can have a motivation.
Non supporting VS Supporting. Out of his life VS In his life. Old VS New. Hopelessness VS Hope. Static VS Change.
You name it.
But then the author changes his mind, and Katsuki isn't just the rival anymore, and all of the sudden "Deku" has many layers; "Deku" also means the one that does his best alone, isolated and overworked, and even tho apparently this has shifted since the current chapters...
Slight manga spoilers, not too much tho (I guess??):
idk, Izuku still was ready to get up alone and fight if Aizawa didnt stop him to give him the T-shirt and remind him they are there. He was running alone, and others have to go to him (in this case, Iida) in order to help him, because he is still not asking for help at all.
It has been brought up again, the meaning Ochako gave it, and im not 100% sure if this is her remembering, Izuku, or the three of them -probably the last one? Iida seems to understand now what Ochako meant back then, and they see it in a positive light (which was the intention!), but for Izuku doing the best can mean many things. What's the best he can do? Act like All Might was his first answer, but that didn't work. Saving others? He knows heroes should do this, but with how unclear things are I dont know if he is aware the class would support his decision of saving a villain -after all, as far as we know, he doesn't tell anyone because he wants to share it with someone, but because someone else admitted it first.
Uraraka confessed that first, and showed that vulnerability without knowing how he could react [and honestly, it looked in that moment like she was mainly expressing herself outloud], and after that he ended up also sharing a similar feeling he had about villains and saving. What I mean is that he doesn't say shit unless someone else was vulnerable first.
Ochako wasn't going out to talk to anyone about it either, lets get that straight, but when she was asked by one of her best friends she lets herself be at least a little; she saw Izuku meant something "slightly" different than her, so she doesnt tell him how she envied her genuine smile, her freedom to be herself, love who she loves, or how she thought she was actually cute. She knew it was better to not talk about that because he had no interest in that, so she keeps it to herself knowing she will fight to make sure Himiko hears her this whole thing would be a part of the izuku and ochako meta kjfskjflajflksja
This happened too with Katsuki during their second fight; after Katsuki was emotional and falling apart, confessing such intimate and sad emotions with him, that's when Izuku couldn't help himself and ended up also putting his guard down. And still, he held back a crucial part -he didnt say he acts like him without even trying, and even tho everyone would see it as nasty and bad, he can't hate those things, those parts oh himself, because they are parts of Katsuki, his symbol of victory, what he sees as the best form of heroism. Despite Katsuki explaining he's confused and insecure over his main theme -victory-, and worries about it being not only unworthy but also the reason their idol "ended"... He held back.
He lost because of that.
Its interesting the contrast between those two scenes in terms of emotional vulnerability and reactions, before a war ochako and izuku are much calmer and distant than katsuki and izuku after getting back from a successful rescue. In the first case nothing actually changed between them -im not talking about the nature of the relationship but just the general apparent feelings and status. They are friends who share ideals and common interest before and after the talk, and the only one who was more reflective about it was Ochako who prefers to discuss it with Himiko than him -its more about them anyways. Izuku stays the same, as far as we know, because he thinks she also "just"* felt empathy for someone that was sad and alone, and we can't see this affecting him or shifting something between them.
His emotional moments with Katsuki? They do change everything every time -when he said he was going to be a hero, when they start to get closer, after the war "Deku" becoming "izuku", embracing what makes the other great, etc.
*Its a huge deal and really important, im not trying to minimize his motivations or ideas, just point out how their feelings and conflicts are different and similar -at this point we don't see Midoriya admiring Shigaraki in any way thru this whole story. The manga hasn't ended and he is unreliable, so maybe im wrong and he admires qualities about him he learns later on, but right now for me Izuku wants to bring him support because he is a human and nobody should get treated like he was.
Ochako and Katsuki also have different roles in his rescue, with him bringing him back to them and her showing everyone he is a boy that needs help. Izuku was moved by both actions, and thanks to Uraraka he gets to the shelter.
Their fight was also interesting! Ochako was thinking about winning this, yet she tried to follow Izuku's ideas and lost after trying something way too risky for her, because she ended up ignoring her own judgement and limits out of insecurity and admiration; when Katsuki tries to use his strategies in the wars tho, he is able to achieve what he wanted -he saves Izuku from getting stabbed, saves All Might from getting crushed by AFO, before dying he gets to weaken some parts of Shigaraki's body for the rest to use, etc.
Its not that he loses himself, he just tries something new that works for him, and im happy Ochako ended up realizing she needs to keep in mind what she needs and wants when taking inspiration from Midoriya. Even if similar, their feelings for "their" villains are different, and that's okay.
Katsuki now doesnt call him Deku unless he refers to his hero name, and prefers to use his first name while Ochako keeps using Deku-kun when talking to him or says directly his full name like in her talk with Himiko where she explains some parts of her life.
Even if "Deku" comes from "Izuku", the latter is closer, new for them, a little challenging at times, and shows respect, recognition and reaffirms his humanity over his heroism. "Deku-kun" sounds like "you can do it", a supportive name that comes from a misunderstanding from the beginning, and keeps getting used as she hasn't change her perspective about him in that way. He is still Deku-kun to her, but now Izuku to him.
Change VS Static.
Huh, I wonder where that came from.
#bakudeku#bkdk#dekubaku#dkbk#decchan#grrr talking#im not tagging it as spoilers as I believe its pretty vague in comparison to other things#but yk#just keep that in mind#i have no idea how vague it is tho#this is way too long lmao#why am I like this
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Full Hands — Captain John Price
Warnings: None, really. Fem!Reader. Fluff fluff fluff.
1 | 2 | 3
Exhaustion runs rampant in your bones as you walk along the pavement, habitually avoiding the cracks. Your head pounds and your ears ring, a shrill reminder of the long day’s worth of caring for the screaming children you’re so fond of. As much as you adore your job and the kiddos, you’ll be getting a much needed break while they go on vacation with their parents for the next two weeks. A chance to let your hair down, remind yourself that there’s more to your life than playing temporary-mommy for a few hundred bucks a week. A chance to rediscover the excitement of the city without two tiny, whining voices in your ear.
You’re so lost in your own world that you barely process the sound of your ringtone chiming in the depths of your purse. With a sigh, you pull out your phone to see the screen flashing with the words Unknown Number. Hesitantly, you answer with a soft hello, voice small and unsure.
“Hey, love, it’s John. I was just wonderin’ what time we should meet?”
You let out a relieved sigh, happy to hear that it isn’t some scammer or telemarketer who fished your number out of a database. That familiar deep baritone makes your heart flutter and you’re acutely aware of how unkempt you look—hair disheveled, baby spit-up and spilled coffee all over your dress. God, you’re a wreck. It’ll take a while to pull yourself together.
“You there?” The concerned voice on the other end asks, and your eyes widen before you respond.
“Yes. Yes! Sorry. I-I kinda look a mess right now, I need to get home and grab a shower,” you explain, continuing your journey down the sidewalk.
“Not a problem, darlin’. How’s quarter past six sound?” You can hear the smile in his voice as he speaks and it makes you do the same, nearly dropping your keys as you approach your apartment.
“That sounds perfect. Where are we meeting?”
“Just meet me outside the café again, yeah? We can walk wherever we decide to go,” John suggests with a loud sniff, making you giggle as you kick off your shoes and set your purse on the coffee table.
“Perfect. I’ll see you then,” you grin, heading towards your bedroom to strip out of your dirty sundress.
“See you then, love,” he hums, then three beeps signal that he’s hung up.
With a giddy smile, you capture your bottom lip between your teeth as you save his number in your contacts. It almost feels foreign—you can’t remember the last time a man’s been interested in taking you out, let alone one as handsome as John. Usually they’re scared off by the children you carry around, never giving you the chance to explain that no, you’re not their mother, and you are single. Regardless, it got you where you are now.
It doesn’t take long for you to shower and wash off all the grime of the day, humming quietly to yourself as you scrub your hair clean. Once you’re completely dry, you settle for some light makeup that accentuates your pretty features, then slip into a baby blue sundress with a lightweight forest green sweater to match. An airy spritz of your favorite perfume and three different pairs of shoes later, you’re ready to head out the door to go on your date. A date. A word you never thought would apply to you again.
It’s a chilly evening, hues of orange and pink a canvas for the cotton-candy clouds that litter the sky. You clutch your purse to your person tightly as you walk down the pavement, on edge from being alone, but it doesn’t last long. You get the same shiver down your spine as you approach the tall, roguish man. John grins when he spots you, holding up the small collection of flowers he has in his hands.
“Got these for you,” he hums, passing you the bouquet of red poppies. “Figured you like ‘em, since that was the pattern on your dress earlier.”
“Thank you so much!” You smile and lean in to hug him, impressed by his memory and immediately taking in the scent of his spicy cologne as well as the subtle hint of smoke that lingers on his clothes.
John grins again, pulling back to brush a stray strand of hair behind your ear. He chuckles at your blush, a rich, gravely sound that reverberates through his chest. God, you’re such a sight for sore eyes. A welcomed contrast to the bloodshed and tragedy he sees almost daily, something purer than the brutal killer he stares at in the reflection of his bathroom mirror. You’re soft and sweet and succulent, and it takes everything in him to refrain from taking a bite of you like the most indulgent ambrosia.
You sniffle, fighting the urge to lean into his gentle, lingering touch. In the dim patio light, you can see all the off-colored specks in his gorgeous blue eyes, gold flakes ever present in that rich gaze. A cold gust of wind sends goosebumps rising all along your body, and you shiver. John notices, giving your sweater-clad arms a rub for good measure.
“Wanna take you somewhere, darlin’. Just a short walk,” he wraps a strong arm around your shoulders, nodding his head northbound. “If that’s alright with you?”
You bite your lip and nod. The path is well-lit and there’s still plenty of people around, so you walk with him along the sidewalk, taking in his warmth and comforting scent. He walks faster than you expected, nearly having to jog to keep up with him. He notices and slows down a bit, settling for holding your free hand instead. Eventually, he guides you to an ambient park, complete with well-kempt flower gardens and a duck pond that follows the pavement trail. It’s much more elegant than the one you take the kids to.
“It’s beautiful,” you breathe, admiring all the greenery and pretty lights that adorn the pathway.
“I think so,” he replies with a quick shrug, squeezing your hand gently. “I like to come here to decompress. Clear this ol’ noggin.”
“Yeah? What do you do for work?” You ask, peering up at him fondly.
Even his side profile gets your heart racing, handsome and wise and confident in himself.
“Military,” he replies shortly, and his tone suggests that he won’t say any more on the matter.
It makes sense: the way he carries himself, the slight cockiness hidden beneath the kind exterior. He’s not a douche in the slightest, though—at least, not to you. Yet.
John doesn’t feel at all like a stranger you just met earlier today. He carries on conversation effortlessly and he’s attentive, genuinely interested in getting to know you. It’s refreshing, to say the least, nice to have someone else to talk to. About an hour of walking and he guides you to sit with him on one of the benches overlooking the pond. Your eyes are already drooping, and the peaceful atmosphere does nothing to keep you awake—the chirping crickets, crisp wind rustling through the leaves of the trees, the occasional quacks from the ducks on the water.
He wraps his arm around your waist and then you’re out, head falling to rest on his broad shoulder. It’s surprisingly comfortable, and although you would scold yourself later for letting your guard down in front of a man you just met, you’re rather alright with it being with him, and he’s happy to sit still for as long as you need. Until you wake, until the park ranger comes to kick the both of you out, until the end of time—no matter to John. You’ve already got him wrapped around your finger.
#call of duty#cod#cod mw2#cod mw3#captain john price#captain price cod#captain john price x reader#captain price x reader#john price x reader#captain price x female reader#john price x female reader#female reader
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Weekend links, May 12, 2024
My posts
Your head is hurting and your wifi is out because the biggest solar flare/geomagnetic storm in 20 years hit this weekend. I didn’t actually get to see the aurora borealis, but apparently it really did come down as far as Alabama.
I admit that this was an extremely glib reply. But like, Athena specifically doesn’t like people claiming they’re better than her, so you can imagine the carnage when you throw in two more goddesses as well.
(I feel like that post happened a month ago. This week has felt so ungodly long.)
Reblogs of interest
Hot Vintage Lady Bracket: Round 6. Eight polls. Poll Mod immediately chose violence and put Marilyn Monroe against Hedy Lamarr. Since Ava Gardner is out (actual shockers: Greta Garbo and Rita Hayworth are also gone), I was going to say “I’m just Chaos Elmo Flames Dot Gif about it all” but now I’m just scared.
(Why would you ask us, a hot vintage poll blog, this)
Dracula Daily is in full swing again, and you can eat along!
The Met Gala was honestly decent this year! I reblogged only (some of) the ones I liked, including some of the construction details and a lot of Zendaya, although my favorite might have been Rebecca Ferguson with the crows.
A while back and not what he wore to the Gala, but: Lil Nas X looking beautiful in a rose garden.
Hozier Watch 2024: I really thought there wasn’t going to be anything else and then he was like, “Oh I should probably put out a video for my accidental international #1.” I am entirely disgruntled that he was here last weekend and I couldn’t go.
From the top of the week, Drake vs. Kendrick Lamar: An explainer. Also, Kendrick recs.
MrBeast is living in a joyless hell of his own making, and I at least understand now why he has always freaked me out.
So anyway noted plagiarist James Somerton is alive and well on Twitter, where he’s... well, he sure is there. The words “hole posting” are involved. Another explainer for you.
Lynda Carter proves she’s on Tumblr
We put our faith in BLAST HARDCHEESE
Peace and love on planet Earth and also in the Uber
“thinking about middle aged gay love is like. we have a future and we have time”
While there are merits to this concern, “Writers should all clown on Americans by making up places in THEIR country” doesn’t really sting when we’re all like “Yeah we love doing that!!!” I personally give you all permission to make up as many wackadoodle state names as you want. You can have West Mainolina for free.
Meanwhile in Alabama: Bad, bad Leroy Brown, the baddest fish in the whole damn town
RIP Walnut the crane: “The Bride”
Dinosaurs are terrible lizards
Teaching consent is a many-faceted thing
Become ungovernable: grill edition
Video
Galadriel’s opening Fellowship of the Ring monologue, but it’s the Deep South (U.S.). “Across the county line in Mordor, the Dark Lord Sauron made his self another ring outta everything mean the devil put in him.” Absolutely pitch perfect.
Also pitch perfect: Wellness influencers with terrible advice
“Mooom, the chocolate alchemist has an accomplice now!”
I will always reblog cheetah sounds
The Collage Atlas: a hand-drawn game on Steam
The sacred texts
South Canada. South South Canada. Canada A Bit to the Left
I think I’ve listed this compilation of parody lyrics (”I’m sorry Ms. Jackson/I am four eels”) before, but there’s more now
“Roses are red, that much is true, but violets are purple, not fucking blue”
Personal tags of the week
Scrungly and, as a related topic, Belphegor the Devon rex kitten.
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Entry 34
Day 228
Since the Angel won't be in for a few days, I decided that I would find a "Nook in the Wall" so to speak. Small shops that are hidden to the normal eye and one has to go out of their way to find it. Something that the people back in my G.U.I.D.E. used to speak so much about.
I was hoping to find one of these mysterious hidden shops.
And find it I did. Well. Actually, my growling stomach did.
As I sit here writing this update from a very comfy seat in a small bakery, I have a few things to update. One, apparently there are people that are not mortal. Two... Brian is a surprisingly good lookout.
When I first got here, I was greeted by a cozy little bakery. I hadn't seen a bakery since... Well, not important to today. As I made my way along, just enjoying myself and the sight of the bakery, a woman shouted at me over a tiny, head sized square in the wooden wall.
"Be right out there, Love! My pin's being downright awful at the moment!"
And by pin... She meant a rolling pin with one of its handles broken clean off.
But I will not lie. When I saw this woman... Something about her threw me off. At a brief glance, this woman looks kind! Like an absolute sweetheart of a woman, working her bum off every day for her bakery. But... Goodness, it's something I can't explain. Her eyes seem to be too perfect, her face too symmetrical when staring at her head on, her ears are so long and pointy... And the massive wings on her back.
Apparently people can have REAL wings. The Crashlands get even more interesting every day. And of course, she wasn't complete without an odd mechanical crow clinging to her shoulder.
"What can I get for you? Got some scones, a few donuts if you got an itchen for something sweet! Or something salty? I got scavengers in a tarp if you want some of those!" Her voice was heavily accented with a dialect from a VERY old ago. (I think Australian? I can't remember, those text books were aged ago. And I think scavengers in a tarp are like pigs in a blanket, but... I didn't ask to find out.)
"I guess just a scone would do? Something small and... I think..." I kept getting distracted by that haunting blue eye. "Your crow seems... Friendly." (I did not think he was friendly. At all.)
"What do you mean?" Her head had whipped around to glare at the robotic Crow, shooting him a look of some kind. (I think I was still dealing with the fact that this woman's whole head could turn on a DIME!) "Ohhh! Brian! He ain't nothing but all beak, no talons." She had assured me her head flipped right back around to look at him. "Now, back to what you were ordering?"
"A scone would be nice and if you have it, coffee? I haven't had a cup in forever." (It had been nearly a year at the time of me writing this. Coffee is not easy to come by!)
"Alright, love. Go ahead and take a seat, I'll call for you when you're ready. Could I get your name for the order?"
I nearly gave it to her. It seemed so simple. Just to give a little name. But there was that odd feeling again. Something just didn't feel right. Like there was a second meaning behind those brown eyes of hers.
"Just 67 works. You know how names are in the Crashlands! Never give em if you don't ever see em again!"
Her eyes lingered on me a bit too long but she did eventually nod and get to work gathering the items. I ducked away to a table after a few customers stumbled on through and waited for a bit. It was just nice to sit down for once and enjoy the smell of baked goods and not need to worry about acid rain or Stranglers trying to get me.
However... That peace did not last long.
That mechanical crow came straight over to me. Piercing blue eyes constantly staring at me.
"... Hello, Brian. Um... Pretty bird wants a cookie? No, crows can't eat cookies can they? Uhm... Don't know about scones. Maybe? You are a robot."
A robotic caw. Small, scratchy, definitely not right. Like a broken voice box.
"Well... That is no good. Voice box going a little haywire? Hold on a minute." I'm still ever so grateful I'm a collector of most things that are considered "junk." Because what did I happen to find in my bag?
Three different voice boxes, ranging in sizes. And one just so happened to be very small.
"Aha. I knew I had something." I am not lying when I write this, I swear I'm not. But he just hopped over to the voice box and SWALLOWED IT. No undoing the metal plates, no double checking to make sure it fits. Just gulped it down like a tasty summer treat.
"Brian, you can choke on that I will have you know-"
Another caw. Much louder. Much clearer. And Brian himself seemed to be a lot happier if those happy jumps were anything to judge by.
"Glad you're happy, Brian." By that time my order of scones had been called out by the odd women. Just as I was about to make a move for my order, Brian jumped up and (I swear) perched on my shoulder. Just made himself right at home.
"I do hope you know I'm not sharing my scones. Or coffee. If they have some dirty oil we'll get it for you."
Another caw and a tiny peck to the temple.
"Alright, alright! Clean oil. Hot?"
Another peck.
"Cold it is." And from there I managed to get my food and my first cup of coffee in a LONG time. I actually was able to enjoy my little moment for about an hour (Yes, I did give in and let Brian steal a couple of crumbs of scones) before that odd woman came to sit in front of me.
"You know Brian doesn't like anyone, yeah? Doesn't even like me, love! Never perched on anyone but that old stick behind the counter. All he does is go up to people, caw, and fly straight back."
"And nobody helped him before? All the little fella needed was a voice box change." And that got a whole coo from Brian. A happy one.
"Is that really it? A voice box?" Her eyes met Brian's. "Oh you little turd, here I was thinking you were sick! Been taking care of you for a while now! You've been living in birdy retirement this whole time!"
"Birdy retirement? He's been retired?" Who would possibly retire a mechanical crow?
The woman rested her chin on hand. "A couple years ago, a man walked in with Brian. Said that he didn't want the poor bird to hurt anyone. Haven't seen him since. He's had that scratchy voice this entire time, so I thought it was untreatable! It didn't help that Brian is a sassy little thing that hates mechanics!"
An angry caw this time. "I... Don't think you were supposed to take him to a mechanic. Isn't there maybe a vet around? Or maybe somebody who specializes in bots?"
"Unfortunately not, no. None that I know of." The woman and I spoke for a few more minutes, asking one another questions. But the bell eventually went off and more customers poured in.
"Welp, love, I best take care of them. How about you take Brian around, yeah? Old bird has been cooped up in here for a while and should get to see more of the Crashlands!"
I had choked on my coffee at that point. "I-I'm sorry?"
"Bring him around." She waved her hand easily. "Show him the Crashlands. I can't, I got a store to run! And my ring only goes so far! But you can go in and out as you wish. I think that's only fair, hmm?"
"Your... Ring? What exactly is a ring?"
"Nothin' you should worry yourself over. Take all the time you need, Hun. But bring Brian along. He's a good companion to have. And you won't be lonely once you leave the city!" And with that, she had turned right around and walked off to tend to her customers.
As of writing in this now, it's about two in the afternoon. Brian is still on my shoulder and has refused to leave this entire time. He's coming with me whether I like it or not!
I guess he's not all that bad. And he's good for getting a higher look at the sky!
When I left the bakery, I only then noticed the sign.
"Stress' Sweets and Salties."
Guess that woman did have a name.
I still have time to kill. Still two more days. IF that poster is accurate.
I just really need to find the Angel.
I need to find the Doctor.
-MLW and Brian
-The Crashlands.
#hermitblr#hermitcraft#the crash#void art#hermitaday#original art#mcyt fanart#stressmonster101#stressmonster fanart#martyn itlw#martyn inthelittlewood#brian the crow
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i'm not new to the fallout fandom but
and i also haven't made a written post in years but
yet i'm sure there's already discourse on the tv show about it on here with me not finding it right away but
i'd like to talk about how cooper [the ghoul man] decided to unalive and butcher another [going feral friend] ghoul, roger. though terrifying and universally morally reviled... i think it's a genuinely interesting choice of him to me with having his companion hostage [vault dweller] lucy around.
morally, on the scale, it was oddly compassionate, for lack of a better phrasing. stay with me now! [ghouls just do not perish under usual circumstances in this universe and that guy would've been doomed to a "life" to fallout's equivalent of zombism] and though obviously i do not like that he did that [lmao like i'm repulsed despite very much knowing how the "fallout" games can go down, i mean there's a cannibalism perk 😭] i still think it was choice. and i think he was thinking about lucy when he made, despite how um how disturbing that entire scene was fldgld
listen. when he went to the lead farmer's house, they thought so lowly of ghouls, that man and his son genuinely thought he was eating the farmer's daughter 😭 and until further episodes, i'm basically of the mind he'd probably only consume either bad guys or ghouls or both who are about to turn but anyways. back to the main point.
cooper already has to face the prospect that he could be one of "them" any moment too, since he was no vials himself in that episode. so it was duly hard for him to watch--- knowing that person like that and then seeing them slowly turn. i think he knew even with any vials, that man was finished. compassionate might be a very odd word for me to use here but i say this for a couple reasons.
it's "compassionate" for this universe, at least. the wasteland is cruel and unforgiving. if cooper was just after meat, why... he could've just had lucy. but i think it was an interesting choice to consume a friend type person and a [going feral] ghoul. he's not even consuming a regular ghoul. he put down one who quite literally was already turning into a feral one. it's giving "lost cause" [this show hurt just like the games, swear]
looking back on the scene, he kind of tries to have a [last] warm conversation with him. about food. human food. rewatching the scene now, i actually barely caught the fact that cooper shot roger as he was looking away from him. like, my goodness, he didn't hate this man at all. this was mercy k ill if there was one.
in the back of my mind, i keep thinking "was this his call to make?". in a lot of ways, i'm still on lucy's side about everything. but lucy isn't a ghoul. and i don't live in the fallout universe. there's always some type of alternative yet this is what cooper thought he should do. a few episodes later, lucy can't reason with a ghoul anymore and has to do the same thing [minus consuming them]. i guess it was his call.
she is gobsmacked that he's really about to butcher and eat that man and it's kinda funny he asks her name. some insane foreshadowing that's intriguing on subsequent watches no less.
i want to keep this a little short for sanity's sake--- but like. when lucy asks cooper how does he live like this. why keep going. briefly. for a short moment. while he's turned away from her. he remembers. he wishes. he misses. who he was. before all this.
then, feeling contempt for who she thinks she is, he makes her butcher roger. and it was in that moment i realized cooper was for sure playing a character to cope. but that's a post for another time, wastelanders ⚡
#fallout#fallout show#lucy#ghoul#cooper#cooper howard#lucy maclean#i know he sold her to organ harvesters but listen to me for one second#text post#my meanderings
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Red vs Blue: Reformation
After Epsilon fragments himself inside of his mind, Tucker is left to pick up the pieces.
An alternate take on Tucker’s story in Season 19: Restoration.
Masterpost
Available to read on Ao3
CHAPTER 1 - Recognition
They might’ve finally found what they’ve been looking for. But there’s one thing to take care of, first.
__________________________
We open on a shot of a military base at night. Two guards stand in front of an exit.
Guard 1: Hey.
Guard 2: Yeah?
Guard 1: You ever wonder… if we’re in a simulation?
Guard 2: Simulation?
Guard 1: Yeah, yknow, like, none of this is real. We’re just the product of some guy simulating a bunch of random outcomes to try to find out what happens next?
Guard 2: … No. That sounds made up.
Guard 1: It’s not made up! It’s a real theory!
A cloaked figure enters through the door between them. Guard 1 raises his gun.
Guard 1: Whoa. Did you see that?
Guard 2: See what? Your simulation?
Guard 1: No! I don’t know! Looked like something… invisible.
Guard 2: Invisible? How does something look invisible?
Guard 1: Well, it looks like something that’s not there.
Guard 2: How am I supposed to see something that’s not there?
Guard 1: It is there, it just looks like—
A second cloaked figure enters the base.
Guard 1: There! There it is again! Did you see it?
Guard 2: Did I see the invisible thing that isn’t there?
Guard 1: Yes!
Guard 2: No. No I didn’t.
Guard 1: Dammit.
Guard 2: Maybe it was a glitch in the simulation.
Guard 1: Oh, fuck you.
Cut to the inside of the base. We see a series of shots. A pair of cloaked boots run along a hallway, followed closely by another. A guard collapses out of nowhere. A silenced pistol is shot.
Cut to the inside of a room. The door opens. No one enters. The door closes. An armored soldier uncloaks.
It’s Locus.
Locus: Is this the correct room?
Another soldier uncloaks and walks past him. He’s wearing The Meta’s armor in black. As he speaks, it fades into an aqua.
It’s Tucker.
Tucker: It should be.
He walks up to a large terminal and plugs in a device.
Tucker: Let’s find out. Guys?
Multiple colors of lights flash around him. Green, cyan, purple, pink, yellow, turquoise. Orange.
Tucker loses his balance after the last flash. But only for a second. He shakes his head and turns to look at Locus.
Tucker: Security here sucked, huh?
Locus is standing in between Tucker and the door, not leaving his back open to either of them.
Locus: I’ve learned it’s not something to complain about.
Tucker: I’m not complaining. Just saying, if what we think is here, is here? Well, it deserves a hell of a lot more security than that.
Locus: …What do you think is here?
Tucker: Huh?
A flash of cyan light.
Tucker: Oh, it’s some old files from Freelancer. Nothing too important, but, shit’s super classified. Be fucked if just anyone found it.
Locus makes a noise of acknowledgement. Is he agreeing? Disagreeing? Gassy? Who knows.
Tucker leans against the terminal, all casual like.
Tucker: So, how’ve you been?
Locus: ………. Fine……..
Tucker laughs.
Tucker: Damn dude, slow down. Even the AI couldn’t process that much information.
Locus sighs.
Locus: I have been. Fine. Nothing interesting has happened since we last spoke.
Tucker: All right.
They take a beat.
Locus: ………. How…… are. you???
Tucker: Wow. That seemed physically painful.
Locus: I… am not used to being the one leading the conversation.
Tucker: Right.
They take another beat.
Tucker: Y’know, I was kinda surprised you were willing to work with a partner again so soon after. Well, y’know. Didn’t think you’d trust so easily.
Locus: I… was more surprised you were willing to trust me.
Tucker, quietly: Yeah, surprised me too…
He stares at the terminal. Some colors flash around him. Pink, cyan, purple, yellow. Orange.
Tucker: We’ve also been doing fine. Same old, same old. Chasing down leads, cleaning up Freelancer’s messes, blowing up Charon’s shit.
Locus: Being a thorn in the UNSC’s side?
Tucker points at him.
Tucker: You know it! Saving the galaxy. One step at a—
Sigma appears at Tucker’s side. Not as a flash of light, but in his full naked, on fire, hologram-y glory.
Sigma: This is it.
Tucker stands up straight, giving Sigma his full attention.
Tucker: Wait, seriously? Finally? It’s really actually him?
Locus: What is “it”?
Tucker: I told you, it’s just old files from Freelancer.
Locus: You said “him.”
A flash of cyan.
Tucker: Did I? Must’ve misspoke.
Sigma: Lavernius. It’s time.
Tucker: Right.
Tucker takes the device out of the terminal. The colors flash all around him again.
Locus: Time for what? I… have been patient. But I do not appreciate being kept in the dark. I know you have bigger plans—
Tucker: Dude, relax. It’s not like we were gonna tell you everything before we knew we could trust you. You? C’mon, be realistic. But,
Tucker lets out an over dramatic sigh.
Tucker: Fine. I’ll explain everything when we get out of here, okay? Just— oh, shit, watch the door.
Locus turns to face the door.
Tucker: Like I was saying,
Tucker pulls out a gun.
Tucker: We were pretty surprised you were trusting enough to work with a partner so soon.
Tucker shoots Locus in the back.
Tucker: Probably shouldn’t have been.
Locus: You—
Tucker starts walking. He reaches down to grab something off Locus as he passes.
Locus: You— why— I, I can’t move—
Tucker: Yeah, don’t worry. Delta says you’ll get use of your legs back in 6 months. Right D?
A flash of green.
Delta: 6-12.
Tucker: 6-12. Cool how they can calculate that, huh?
Locus: Why… why are you doing this?
Tucker: It’s nothing personal, man. Just taking out one of the few people in the universe who might be able to stop us.
Tucker stops walking next to a wall.
Tucker: Well…
He reaches his hand towards an alarm.
Tucker: Maybe a little personal.
He flips it. Lights start flashing, sirens start blaring.
Tucker: I hear the UNSC treats genocidal maniacs well.
Tucker moves to the door.
Locus: You… I should have trusted my instincts. You are just like him.
Tucker stops. Purple, yellow, cyan. Orange. He laughs.
Tucker: You’re joking, right? You two were mass murderers. I’m trying to clean up the mess that you made. I am protecting people. Look at how easily you were manipulated again! Trust me. The galaxy is safer with you put away. It’s safer with us.
The door flings open as Tucker turns invisible. Locus tries to tell the oncoming guards about Tucker’s presence to no avail. We see a Tucker’s cloaked figure maneuver past the guards, into an empty area of the base.
He uncloaks.
Tucker: All right guys. Calculate how fucking badass that exit was.
All the AIs holograms pop up around him. Their lines slightly overlap each other.
Delta: Given your standard metrics, I would calculate that was… 75% “badass.”
Gamma: Too cheesy.
Theta: It was so cool!
Gamma: Overly sentimental.
Omega: We should have killed him.
Sigma: You should not have taken his bait.
None of the others’ lines overlap with Sigma’s.
Sigma: You cut the door opening too close. It was an unnecessary risk. Don’t do it again.
Tucker: Oh, please, Sig.
He flicks Sigma’s hologram.
Tucker: I know you love the dramatics.
Sigma: Not when we are this close.
Tucker looks down at the device he’s holding.
Tucker: So this is really it? We really found him?
Delta: We will not know for certain until we can decryp—
Sigma: Yes. This is him.
Tucker holds the device up and stares at it. Lovingly.
Tucker: All right, Church. Just wait a little longer. We’re gonna fix everything. Real soon.
Omega: Not soon enough. Let’s move.
Tucker laughs, cloaks again, and heads out.
#fanfic: rvb reformation#lavernius tucker#sigma rvb#rvb#red vs blue#rvb19 spoilers#chromatic writings#written by lavender
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