#sure you gotta have common sense and some knowledge in your field
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Diggers // Dating Headcanons
Note// I gotta write this since i successfully managed to bring him home;;; 🥺
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Diggers is canonly a hippie. He is based on them, his voice lines often tell how peace is better than war- I don't have the mind to interpret him with many kinds of hippies stereotypes because I'm still skeptical about some things that I don't even know better- 🤔🫠
There may even be misunderstandings because it actually really happened to the hippies from the 60s sometimes -
Diggers cherishes the times he gets to talk with you, always looking forward to seeing every day and getting to know you...
He is even eager to share his passions while he learns to understand yours as well. He has always been accepting and non-judgmental, ever since you first met. No matter the flaws.
It's probably how he treats everyone because of his moral standards- but it's also more than that... because it's you.
He definitely senses something different about you the moment your fingers touched..
You're his muse, "the sunlight from the mornings, the starlight of the night.... his whole universe." Yes, he said that to you once once--- 😭🫠🥺
But well, he loves showing some of his works of art - well, only the ones he managed to keep. He most likely does graffiti and flower power aesthetics.
Imagine there is a time you two painted a mark of your initials inside a heart with a paint spray on the same bench you both sat in where you first met each other--- it would be fate for sure smh;;;;
Hangouts usually would be staying with him at the back of his van with the doors open, so the windy day can go through. You sometimes lay down on the carpet he places down. You would hear him play his guitar as he sits across from you, serenading you with his slow, soothing tunes.
The sight of the grassfield's landscape can be seen from the van's back seat, along with the small silhouette of London from afar. Once Diggers stops playing, he tends to place his hand on your head and give it headpats... slowly massaging your scalp after as you try to stay awake.
He loves pampering you in his own way, letting you rest with him during lazy days.
He is a sweet, laid-back lover... He trusts you enough that his jealousy levels are low to none just by simply thinking of the many things that can make you feel safe and happy with him- having himself being part of your life is already an honor to him.
But of course, I can imagine he would be like a kicked puppy whenever you ignore him for too long... like not seeing for 3 days can already make him feel droopy;;;
You'll do a lot of outdoor activities with Diggers when dating him-- he would always say things like like "be one with the forest" or "connect with mother nature" while making you these pretty flower crowns to adorn them on your head,,,
Camping in a forest is one of the common things you two do, Diggers knowing lots of things about how to survive in the wild while only having his van as a refuge.
Don't underestimate for his slender figure!!! He can even name you many kinds of herbs, flowers, and berries. Even point out the ones that are venomous or poisonous. He can't do math or this deep insight science, but at least he is knowledgeable in certain fields.
This is just me, but I love a Diggers giving his s/o the passenger princess treatment. No more questions/ih
He talks to you in a very honeyed and flowery voice, you don't even know if he's ever angry at you even while being this upset---(to be true, he never brings himself to be angry at you-- it wouldn't be cool) With how he calls you "Honey", "Baby ", "Love", and so much more, you'll probably need a sleeping bag because man, his voice;;;
He is very affectionate - maybe a bit touchy even. Lots of hugs, kisses, hands on the small of your back, waist, or hip - he always has this tendency of keeping a hand on you when you're around.
If you give him the consent(because consent is beautiful✨️), he doesn't feel embarrassed when pulling you to his lap or holding you so close from behind around anyone.
His holds are meant to be pure and innocent. Having your bodies touch helps him charge his batteries from any stress he ever has to experience in a fast-faced world you both are living in.;;😔
He always likes to carefully plant soft kisses on your forehead, eyelids, cheeks, hands, and shoulder,,, (neck if he really wants to make out with you;;; 👉👈 *gets bonked for not being normal *) Lots of smooching when he finds the lovely opportunity.
He is 100% honest with you, never lies at all. Even would tell you his honest opinions in a sincere, half-hearted manner. Otherwise, it would be against his principles of a peace and love relationship. He wants to love you unconditionally no matter the future struggles that may happen between you two. Always avoiding toxicity and any form of hate towards you.
He loves taking care of his body, eating natural and non-processed food as possible, and going on vegetarian diets. He wants to share his little routines with you, if you want to, of course,,, it is pretty much a way he shows that he enjoys living life with you and taking care of you if you allow him to once in a while. It's like a sign of building trust for him. 🥺
It's so cute when he wants to try and persuade you to try these vivid color clothes with lots of patterns on it, even having these flower matching Keychains.;;
No matter the path you want to go to, he'll always support you and your choices,,, he'll encourage you to do anything your heart desires to achieve, as long as you're true to yourself. 🥺✨️
Overall! He is such a walking green flag. What else can I say to support that? You probably might have more ideas, and the floor is always open for them, my friends 😌✨️💅
#diggers x reader#r1999 diggers#reverse 1999 diggers#r1999 x reader#r1999#reverse 1999 x reader#reverse: 1999#reverse 1999
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idk if any young person needs to hear this but when you work at a job you absolutely can google anything you don’t know or ask someone for help. school has you conditioned to think you have to have everything memorized all the time but let me tell you. I am dumb as shit and I am great at my job because it’s not a test, it’s just work. the more resources you utilize the better.
#brought to you by the bad memory gang#can’t remember shit but the real world isn’t school#everything is open note and open book#and open internet#sure you gotta have common sense and some knowledge in your field#but school was so stressful and now i google things and still get my paycheck#ok to rb
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I'm gonna need fandom to stop projecting some weird romanticized and/or bitter idea of suicidal ideation on 15x20 Dean which is directly contrary to the text.
If anything, 15x20 was Dean's least suicidal period. He had opted to start trying to enjoy life. He still clearly struggled with depression and grief from his sloppy room, but that doesn't necessarily translate to suicidal thoughts.
Dean highlighted his desire to make sure sacrifices weren't in vain. He tried to eat after a whole season of refusing to because he was too angry and scared.
People misunderstand "being realistic" as "suicidal". While yes, you can even check the script and there's a moment of panic thinking about if Cas was there, and yes, it even clarifies the nearest hospital is 45 minutes away and yes, clarifies Dean was 100% run through, just because that didn't make it to screen doesn't mean it's suddenly Dean surrendering.
Maybe this is something not understood because of how international SPN fandom is, or how urban its digital demographic tends to be--but I've got news for you. It's basically common knowledge that places like that are at least half an hour from anywhere in the US.
I've lived in those places.
One such place, for example, was Timpson Texas. When I moved there for a few months, I was warned. Don't get hurt. The nearest hospital is 45 minutes away. But if it's really bad--they do have a volunteer EMS department. Which, they joked, was "express delivery" because it was located right next to the funeral home, and frankly nobody was sure what their actual credentials were in a town of 200~.
It's very, very rare to find a farmhouse setup like that near a city. Or at least anything less than 20 minutes from anywhere. There's a few exceptions to that rule for anything in life, like the Independence, MO area that has really weird fucking zoning and you can go from farmland to ghetto to farmland to downtown in a straight shot, but by and large, this is how it is in the US. I know 45 minutes sounds insane to someone living in like, the UK. Or even people who've lived their whole lives in and around big US metro cities like New York and Chicago.
But I can promise you, just because those thoughts didn't come out of Dean's mouth, they ran through his head, like many silent things you can see him assess at any given moment in the show that are common sense life, battle, or other issues. "Well, shit, it'll take an ambulance at least 30 minutes to get here if I'm lucky and my vision's already tunneling, Cas isn't here, gotta take my chance to say what's important, like I learned from Cas."
That's it. That's what that was. Was the death comically long? Yes, still not enough for him to get help. Were there ways they could have illustrated it better? Sure, they could have used that one overhead driving in a field shot for the 1000th time. Would the text have helped in dialogue--maybe, you know this fandom loves missing the point anyway.
Everyone goes "but why tell Sam not to bring him back then!!" bro-- bro--he literally says why, and it's true. That always ends bad. It's stopping this jerk off cycle and realizing it's ok to be freaking mortal. That they can't keep fucking up the cosmic balance for all eternity. Letting hundreds/thousands/millions/billions of people have their entire universe fucked up because the two brothers insist on being in the same spot at the same time. He insisted Sam live on.
Maybe it's a misunderstanding of biology too? Hell, there's some ways that could have gone in that would have had him dead even faster. It really just depends what exactly it punctured how. Is it technically survivable? Yeah, if you're not basically an hour and a half out from a hospital with the weewoo cab trip both ways. If he already felt himself fading though, reality strikes.
That's Dean Winchester becoming spontaneously aware of his mortality, not giving up. Like I hate to tell people, but you'll never make it out of life alive. That's not suicidal, that's reality. The point is, to live the best life you can while you have it, and to not give up, sure. But also to be aware that you might get diagnosed with terminal cancer or you might get hit by a bus or maybe you'll fucking ridiculously get run through on a dickbar. Some things in life you can't control.
Are there ways this could have been pulled together far better? 100% absolutely. The finale was a disaster in delivery. At literally every corner. In every way. But that shouldn't make us just scream past it and somehow convert it into the worst possible take guys. I should hope that a young adult to middle aged demographic understands things like basic biology, emergency response time, the fact that we're all mortal beings, and the general moral of learning what to say when it's important and maybe your last chance, c'mon.
Or worse, trying to turn it into "Dean didn't want to live anymore because he missed Cas." Like shit. I'm blazing "Destiel is canon and has been for a while" trash but -- that's literally? Contradictory? Dean wanted to live because he respected Cas' sacrifice. That's canon. Even when he still felt down and his room was still messy and some days he might have almost felt dead, he kept trucking, kept dreaming, put in job applications, tried to be the young self he used to be and go to a pie-fest, whatever. He kept moving. THAT'S where he kept fighting.
Giving up isn't Dean accepting that a pike through all his major organs an hour out from medical help is gonna be the end. Giving up would be him having stayed passed out on the whiskey bottles on the floor forever moping and just WAITING for that instead of being like, damn, I didn't think today would be the day.
Is it a perfect ending, no, not saying that, nor in any way defending the fucking trashfire finale but I'm so sick of seeing this "suicidal dean" talk. When that isn't even remotely what it was.
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5e Ezreal, the Prodigal Explorer build (League of Legends)
(Artwork by Suke “hugehugesword” Su. Made for Riot Games.)
In my constant and continued effort to deny Ezreal’s existence I finally had to get around to building him. Again it’s not that I don’t like him... I mean I don’t. But I kinda forgot what I was going to build him as. Lol.
Dorans & Dragons also made a build for Ezreal back in like... early 2020. Christ that’s before the world went to shit, ain’t it? Well regardless they also made their build before Tasha’s Cauldron came out and I think I can make a build that is different enough to warrant my build existing alongside theirs.
In short: this is an elaborate excuse for me to make another Artificer build.
GOALS
Gawk at this! - We need many a glowing projectile to spam at foes before blowing them up. Ezreal isn’t the type to just autoattack.
I always know a shortcut - Flash on a 15 second cooldown is nice. We’ll need to be able to blink around constantly throughout the entire fight.
Time to show 'em who's best - Nothing’s more dangerous than a well-placed Trueshot Barrage sniping through the entire enemy team.
RACE
Back to good ol’ Variant Human. As a Variant Human you can increase two of your ability scores by 1: increase your Intelligence and your Charisma, to be the hot smart twink you are. You also learn a Language of your choice along with a Skill of choice. You spent plenty of time studying The Void so Abyssal would make sense as a language, and for your skill Perception would help you spot traps or incoming ganks... as long as you remember to ward.
For your feat we’re going to be grabbing Arcane Shift as fast as possible with Fey Touched so you can start Flashing. (Not like that!) You can increase your Intelligence score by 1 and also learn the Misty Step spell. You can also add a Divination or Enchantment spell to your list and a little Heroism never hurt anyone. You can cast both of these spells once without spending a spell slot, and can then spend spell slots on them after the fact.
ABILITY SCORES
15; INTELLIGENCE - Archeology is a lot of history and facts... If you do it the boring way, that is!
14; DEXTERITY - Repeat it after me: “something something Medium armor.”
13; CHARISMA - You’re a pretty boy twink who got at least two girls on the Rift to fall for you.
12; WISDOM - Traveling through ancient temples and traps takes a degree of common sense. Not necessarily common sense you have, but a bit of boost never hurt.
10; CONSTITUTION - You’re an ADC, which means you’re squishy.
8; STRENGTH - Twink.
Feel free to swap Constitution around with another stat for better health but worse roleplay.
BACKGROUND
“Archaeologist” is just the nice way of saying Tomb Raider, which is the mean way of saying Adventurer! You get proficiency with History and Survival (hey you’ve gotta tough it out in the desert sometimes!) You also get proficiency in a language of your choice (I went for Dwarvish because Dwarves seem to have built most ruins) and proficiency in either Navigator’s Tools or Cartographer’s Tools... “Who needs a map?”
You spent enough time in ruins to pick up some Historical Knowledge on ancient dungeons and temples to know who made them. And if you find anything that belongs in a museum you know how much it’s worth to the museum!
(Artwork by Sangsoo Jeong. Made for Riot Games.)
THE BUILD
LEVEL 1 - ARTIFICER 1
Starting off as Artificer to “borrow” a few inventions. But also because you get training in Arcana to know your magical artifacts, Investigation to find said magical artifacts, and Calligrapher’s Tools to slay Ascended and Darkin alike in one blow. You also get Magical Tinkering to wave that gauntlet of yours around on some Tiny objects, making them glow or play sounds or do all sorts of things that Prestidigitation would probably do better. But at least you can play your own theme music too!
But of course the main appeal of being an Artificer is the Spellcasting. You can learn two cantrips from the Artificer list like Message to coordinate with your support and Guidance to help yourself find treasure! (Or help others I guess.) You can prepare a number of spells equal to your Intelligence modifier plus your Artificer level (rounded down.) Cure Wounds will let you summoner spell Heal yourself or your Support. Faerie Fire will serve as a more basic version of your Essence Flux, making an enemy easier to hit (therefor making them take more damage!) And Feather Fall is always useful in a pinch!
Also yes you don’t have your gauntlet yet so you’re going to have to use a Light Crossbow for now. Feel free to take a combat cantrip if you want but you don’t really need it.
LEVEL 2 - ARTIFICER 2
Second level Artificers can make Infusions, special definitely-not-stolen magical treasures that make them more awesome than everyone else. For a little more AD an Enhanced Weapon is useful to have. You can also put those goggles on your head to use by making Goggles of Night to see with your dumb human eyes. A Mind Sharpener may feel like a cheat, but I’m not going to say no to keeping Concentration in check. And for your final infusion? A Rope of Climbing might be useful? Honestly the more impressive stuff comes after you’ve done a bit more exploring.
You can also prepare another spell like Alarm, just in case someone’s planning to steal your... legitimately earned treasure.
LEVEL 3 - ARTIFICER 3
Third level Artificers get to choose their specialty and Armorers don’t have to wear an entire suit of armor; just a gauntlet! Along with proficiency in Smith’s Tools you can turn any suit of armor you find into Arcane Armor. The armor has a variety of benefits: no Strength requirement, the inability to have your armor removed against your will, the ability to take it off or put it on as an action, and some replacement limbs. But notably it works as an Artificer spell focus!
There’s two different Armor Models and we’ll be going for the Infiltrator variant for a Lightning Launcher. This makes your Gauntlet a weapon that deals a d6 of lightning damage, with a regular range of 90 and a long range of 300 in case you want to go for long ranged snipes. Additionally once per turn you can pop Essence Flux to do an extra d6 of damage on hit! And I didn’t even mention the best part: this works off your Intelligence! So no more need for the crossbow.
You also get your boots for Powered Steps, increasing your movement speed by 5 feet. And thanks to your Dampening Field you can hide in bushes with free Stealth advantage! I’d recommend trying to get a Breastplate because that’s the best armor you can get that doesn’t also impose stealth disadvantage, but even with Half Plate you can still be sneaky! Heck, you can even wear Platemail if you want! "And my boots are not waterproof. Fantastic."
Oh and you get some Armorer Spells! Magic Missile will autoaim for you like your Arcane Shift projectile, and Thunderwave is helpful for some self-peel.
LEVEL 4 - ARTIFICER 4
4th level Artificers get an Ability Score Improvement: seeing as we have uneven Intelligence take the Observant feat for +1 Intelligence and a boost to your passive Perception and Investigation to watch the minimap for people to snipe! Additionally you can spy on the bad guys if you want and read their lips to gain knowledge of all their secret plans!
More Intelligence does also usually mean more spells prepared but I’m going to wait for...
(Artwork by Xu “Crow God” Cheng. Made for Riot Games.)
LEVEL 5 - ARTIFICER 5
5th level Armorers up their Attack Speed with Rising Spell Force, gaining an Extra Attack with the attack action!
You also get Mirror Image and Shatter added to your list of Armorer Spells, and can prepare spells like Rope Trick for a safe place to rest for awhile, and Heat Metal to really lay in that Essence Flux.
LEVEL 6 - ARTIFICER 6
6th level Artificers get more Infusions which is what I was waiting for! A Radiant Weapon is all the fun of an Enhanced Weapon but it also doubles as a flashlight for your dumb human eyes! And Boots of the Winding Path will let you Arcane Shift back to safety in case you accidentally run into danger.
Feel free to swap some of your old infusions around too. A Lantern of Revealing or Cloak of Elvenkind would be helpful... and Gloves of Thievery never hurt anyone.
And finally you can prepare Aid, as your natural awesomeness rubs off on your allies. "Oh, please, don't die. I can't lose a sidekick. Not again."
LEVEL 7 - WIZARD 1
You didn’t think this would just be a pure Artificer build, did you? Even if that would’ve been stronger I’m legally obligated to needlessly stick multiclass levels into all my builds. And Wizard is definitely a good multiclass for more slots to do Spellcasting! You learn 3 cantrips and six leveled spells as a first level Wizard:
CANTRIPS
To help your allies land their shots take Mind Sliver to weaken an enemy’s saving throws.
Prestidigitation will let you do a bunch of simple magic, and if you want you can have your own hero music too!
Finally Friends is good to make friends you don’t mind losing after they tell you where the ancient ruins are.
SPELLS
I basically just took everything with the Ritual tag. Alarm (yes you have it as an Artificer spell but you can swap that out), Comprehend Languages, Detect Magic, Identify, Tenser’s Floating Disk... and sure why not Find Familiar too? Seeing as you can ritual cast at will most of your early level stuff is going to be reserved for Ritual Casting, as you’re probably going to be spending most of your first level slots on Magic Missile and Faerie Fire anyways.
You also get Arcane Recovery, letting you recover spell slots equal to half your Wizard level (rounded up.) So right now you can get a first level spell slot back at the end of a Short Rest! And later on you can get more!
LEVEL 8 - WIZARD 2
Second level Wizards get to choose the school that their parents left them in before disappearing in the jungle, and the School of Evocation has a surprise tool that will help us later. Along with being an Evocation Savant (allowing you to copy Evocation spells into your spell book with half the time and cost) you can Sculpt Spells so that they only hit the bad guys: when you cast an Evocation spell (from any class, not just Wizard!) you can choose a number creatures equal to the spell’s level + 1. The chosen creatures automatically succeed on their saving throws against the spell, and they take no damage if they would normally take half damage on a successful save. This will be really useful when we get our (pseudo-)Global ultimate; wouldn’t want to fry your pals now would you?
We may as well grab some of those Evocation spells, right? Earth Tremor will let you hit an AoE Mystic Shot because Riot decided that Tiamat should have a cleave I guess, and I mean... Shield is never a bad thing to have?
(Artwork made for Riot Games.)
LEVEL 9 - ARTIFICER 7
Back to the big brain plays: 7th level Artificers can make the biggest brain plays thanks to Flash of Genius, letting you boost an ally’s skill check or saving throw with your own natural perfection. The boost is equal to your Intelligence modifier and you can use this reaction a number of times equal to double your Intelligence modifier.
LEVEL 10 - ARTIFICER 8
8th level Artificers get another Ability Score Improvement? Well seeing as Intelligence still controls just about everything we do it would do good to increase that by 2! That does mean you can prepare more spells (both as a Wizard and as an Artificer) but I’m going to wait for...
LEVEL 11 - ARTIFICER 9
Every ADC dreams of being six-slotted; now you can be with Armor Modifications! Your Armorer armor counts as 4 separate items for the sake of your Infusions: the chest piece, boots, helmet, and the armor’s special weapon can all be infused. Far more importantly however you can have two extra infusions! Those infusions have to be on your armor, but you can put the Radiant Weapon (weapon) and Goggles of Night (helmet) onto your armor and save your other infusions for your allies! Or for yourself; yourself works too.
And we can’t forget the third level spells! You get Hypnotic Pattern from your Armorer Spells for an AoE stun, but far more importantly you get Lightning Bolt which will serve as Trueshot Barrage! And since you’re an Evocation Wizard you can shoot past your friends without blowing them to bits. "Oh, a plan. Yeah, I totally have one of those."
You can also prepare spells like Haste for more DPS (just don’t get stunned), Blink for some Duskblade invisibility, and replace Alarm with Revifify... Ya know: just in case.
LEVEL 12 - ARTIFICER 10
As an ADC it would be good to get six-slotted, and Magic Item Adept lets you get your 4th Legendary item! That’s because you can now attune to 4 magic items at once! (And can also craft Common and Uncommon magic items more easily.)
Speaking of Infusions, we can make more of them, such as a Cloak of Protection or Winged Boots! These are just generally useful but not really Ezreal specific; they’re mostly for your allies. "The gauntlet's for show... the talent's all me."
You can also prepare another spell like Fly which is just universally useful, and holy shit you get another cantrip. Take Mage Hand and maybe try to be a little more cautious when tomb raiding?
(Artwork by Bo “chenbowow” Chen. Made for Riot Games.)
LEVEL 13 - ARTIFICER 11
Do you want a lot more Mystic Shots? 11th level Artificers can make a Spell Storing Item and put an Artificer spell of first or second level inside. What’s cool about this is that anyone can use it, allowing them to cast the spell as if they were you!
My recommendation? Give them Mirror Image. It’s an amazing buff that doesn’t require Concentration. Even a low DEX Paladin will appreciate the chance to not be hit, and a high DEX ally can really get value out of Mirror Image. Yeah the Barbarian technically can’t cast while raging, but they can use this before going into a Rage to be very hard to hit!
And speaking of spells you can prepare another one, so how about you grab Create Food and Water to keep yourself sated on longer archeological trips. "Why didn't I eat before I got here...? Ezreal, why?!”
LEVEL 14 - ARITIFCER 12
12th level Artificers get another Ability Score Improvement... we got all we need in terms of stats (Intelligence lol) so now it’s time to really make some impressive trick shots: the Sharpshooter feat will let you attack at long range without disadvantage and ignore cover bonuses, but most importantly you can take a -5 to your attack roll for a whopping +10 to damage! Don’t use this on high AC targets obviously but if you think you’ll hit why not go for the one-shot? "No applause, please. ...Okay, maybe just a bit of thunderous acclaim. ...A little?"
LEVEL 15 - WIZARD 3
I do still want more spell slots, as well as more spells known! Truthfully there isn’t too much I want from second level, so take Locate Object to find hidden treasure and Augry (added to the Wizard spell list thanks to Tasha’s!) to know what to expect in the next dungeon... sorta. "No plan survives first contact with me."
LEVEL 16 - WIZARD 4
4th level Wizards get an Ability Score Improvement: we got all the abilities we wanted really, so why not Get Lucky? The Lucky Feat will give you a bit of anime protagonist power to guarantee that you make the perfect daring escape. Feel free to take Warcaster or just increase your Constitution however; by this point Ability Scores don’t matter too much.
You can also learn two more spells like Melf’s Acid Arrow for another Essence Flux-esque DoT ability and See Invisibility, in case you need a Sweeper Lense to deal with any clowns.
LEVEL 17 - WIZARD 5
Ima be honest I kinda just wanted third level for Thunder Step to get an Arcane Shift that does damage. Artificer 18 / Wizard 2 (or even just Artificer 20) would’ve been a fine build for Ezeal too, if you don’t think this one spell is worth a 5 level class dip.
Anyways you also learn another cantrip and I mean... you may as well take Shocking Grasp for some defense up close? You also get one other spell and I’m gonna suggest Galder’s Tower this time which is like Tiny Hut... but awesome. And really small. This is mostly just a way for me to talk about a fun spell and also recommend my homebrew fix for it.
(Artwork by Alvin Lee. Made for Riot Games.)
LEVEL 18 - ARTIFICER 13
You got third level spells as a Wizard, you can now prepare 4th level spells as an Artificer! Fire Shield and Greater Invisibility are both available as Armorer Spells, one of which is far more useful for you than the other one. Bro imagine how crazy Evelynn would be with Evelynn’s passive. But yeah feel free to swap around your prepared spells a bit for more 4th level spells, since you definitely have the slots to do so.
LEVEL 19 - ARTIFICER 14
14th level Artificers are Magic Item Savants who can attune to 5 magic items at once, meaning that along with your boots which are technically magical but whatever you can finally be properly six-slotted! But far more importantly you can attune to any item, regardless of any class or race restrictions tied to the item! "I can't get hauled into wizard court again. Technically I don't have a permit for the gauntlet."
Speaking of more attunement: more Infusions. An Amulet of Health will let you boost your bad Constitution from a 10 to a 19, giving you a solid 76 health boost near max level! Other than that more movement speed is never a bad thing, and Boots of Speed may give you more value than your other magic boots.
But holy shit forget all that because you finally get your 4th Artificer cantrip! Grab Mending because somehow we don’t have that yet; gotta keep your outfit in check! Oh and you can get around to preparing another 4th level spell! Truth be told though the 4th level spells for Artificer are kinda... bad? But at least Tasha’s gave us Summon Construct which is a surprisingly strong summon!
"Last time I was in Shurima, I decoded some glyphs. Something about a jackal head... End of times... The usual. All I wanted was this ruby scarab. It looks great on my mantle."
LEVEL 20 - ARTIFICER 15
Our final level is the 15th level of Artificer for the Perfected Armor Armorer capstone. When you shoot an enemy you mark them with Essence Flux, giving them disadvantage to hit you. In addition the next attack (including your own I’m pretty sure!) has Advantage against the enemy while they’re marked with Essence Flux, and if they’re hit they’ll take an extra d6 of Lightning damage!
FINAL BUILD
PROS
Blast 'em, gauntlet! - With your capstone ability you do 4d6 + 10 damage with your Lightning Launcher, and that’s before using Sharpshooter. Even without your capstone 3d6 + 10 is still really good damage output, especially when you can cast spells for big bursts of damage.
See if you can handle this! - Speaking of spells your slots go all the way up to 7th level, and while you’ll mostly just be upcasting a 12d6 Lightning Bolt is nothing to sneeze at! Not to mention other options like a 7d8 Fire damage Heat Metal or +30 HP Aid.
If anyone asks, I didn't see any of these priceless artifacts for sale - It goes without saying that having two more attunement slots than the average character is massive, especially when you can stick infusions onto your armor to maximize the amount of treasures on your person.
CONS
I wasn't strong enough? - Investing fully in INT gives us maxed out combat stats but it leaves a lot of our other abilities lacking. We’re nowhere near Charismatic enough to sell (somewhat) illegitimately gotten gains, and while Infusions can help augment our health (and even our Strength if you grab a Belt of Giant’s Strength) your Wisdom and even your Dexterity are rather mediocre, which is bad for both skill checks and saving throws.
Impossible comebacks are sorta my specialty - Most of your coolest stuff is tied to spell slots and other Long Rest dependent mechanics, and while you have a lot of spell slots (as well as Arcane Recovery to get some of them back) they are still quite limited. You’re perfectly viable as just an auto-attack and Q spammer, but who doesn’t want to shoot lasers and explosions, ya know?
Never met a problem that I couldn't blast away with magic... that I don't even understand - 5 levels in Wizard give us big spell slots but that’s about it, and yeah a 7d6 Lightning Bolt (that won’t hit your allies) is nothing to sneeze at but for the most part you are more of a Martial character. Just saying that level 18 of Artificer would’ve given you Magic Item Master for a whole 6 attunement slots! And level 20 of Artificer would’ve given you Soul of Artifice, essentially operating as a +6 to all saving throws and a 6 time use Guardian Angel.
But if a teamfight breaks out you’re more than a capable ADC. Artificers are the masters of magic items and it doesn’t matter if you make them yourself or “borrow” them from an ancient tomb; you can be the hero mom and dad always wanted you to be! Just concentrate on your farm in the early game and don’t take unnecessary risks. You may be the perfect man of magic but you’re not immortal, despite what the ADCs I’m forced to support always seem to think.
(Artwork by Jennifer Wuesting. Made for Riot Games.)
#dnd#dnd build#dnd guide#League of Legends#League of Legends Ezreal#you belong in a museum#dnd artificer#dnd wizard#twink
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anonymous asked: Head-canon for Stardust Crusaders where reader has telepathy plus telekinesis like Jean Grey from X-Men. Also reader’s powers is not a Stand but I guess an ability unique to themselves. Honestly psychic powers are op lol.
This concept....it intrigues me...
Jotaro Kujo:
Is beyond annoyed that you have the power to read his mind. He doesn't want you knowing what he thinks about all the time, which probably isn't much. If anything it's probably just about marine life...gotta start 'em young
The fact that you didn't have a stand of your own was also very intriguing to him
He probably just wants to take you on in a battle of some sort
Even though you can't see Star Platinum you can sense the presence and beat him every time
Meanwhile, Jotaro thought he had the victory in the bag, leaving him very annoyed
Noriaki Kaykoin:
He knows as soon as you are introduced to the rest of the crusaders that you were different
The newfound knowledge that you weren't a stand user made him all the more intrigued
Your knowing smirk at his thought made him furrow his brow in surprise
'You can read my thought, right?' He was testing the waters. You nodded your head in response to confirm his suspicions
In the future, he would have to test the limits of your abilities (which he would later discover included the ability to move objects with your mind as well). Until then he was glad that you were on the team to fight DIO
Muhammad Avdol:
Your physic powers are very interesting to him. With him being the fortune teller of the group he is a bit jealous that you are much more talented than he is on the matter
He asks you often about ways that he can hone his craft, if his supplies are sufficient etc etc
He is very open and excited to talk to you about subjects like this since none of the other crusaders have expertise in the field. It's always nice to talk about something you're passionate about with another person, right?
Besides all of that, the strength of your abilities would be very helpful in battles with enemy stand users as well, he was sure that the enemy would never see you coming
Out of all of the boys, you are the closet with Avdol!
Joseph Joestar:
He's so stupid. He honestly has no idea what's going on. All he sees is a toothbrush moving on its own and he starts screaming
"AN ENEMY STAND!" He'd be running around the campsite, waking everyone up in the process. After he finds out that you have physic abilities, he begins to relax a little.
As time went on, he would ask you more and more to play pranks on people using your abilities. Just a little bit of fun! If he was skeptical before then he was totally loving your abilities now.
He claims that he has special talents of his own, and he might be a "little rusty" because he hasn't ~read people's minds~ in a very long time
"And your next line will be!" Will be a very common phrase between you two as you hurl quotes back at the other. It's a battle of the minds, but you obviously win every time. And this drive Joseph nuts
Jean Pierre Polnareff:
Was very scared of you at first. God only knows what kind of thoughts are racing through his mind at any given moment. And you can read them all!? Well that's a problem
You can see his almost comical facial expression as he clenches every muscle in his body. It's to keep you out of his brainwaves...apparently
After watching this display for a few minutes, you decide to put him out of his misery, "If it makes you feel any better. I don't read your memories, Polnareff." You smiled.
He breathed an exaggerated sigh of relief; you assured him that his thoughts would be safe! After that incident, he was much more relaxed around you, now that he was able to be his true self
Out of curiosity, you did read Polnareff's thoughts once...and it was nothing substantial anyway
#what is going on in polnareff's head?#the world may never know#jojos bizarre adventure#jojos bizzare adventure x reader#jojo#jjba#jojo heacanons#jjba headcanons#stardust crusaders headcanons#stardust crusaders#Jotaro Kujo#Noriaki Kakyoin#avdol#avdol jojo#oldseph#Jean Pierre Polnareff#Polnareff#polnareff jojo
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Very Good Friends (Chapter 7)
Catch up here: [Chapter 1] [Chapter 2] [chapter 3] [Chapter 4] [Chapter 5] [Chapter 6]
Reader x Henry Cavill, Reader x co-star named Dan
Warning: This tale is for 18+ readers ONLY!!! Mentions of flashbacks: (rape, anal sex, non-con sex, abuse), severe bruising and injury, mentions of suicidal thoughts, depression, humiliation, and some fluff to make us feel better. Smut comes later on in the story… Several chapters down the road… I promise!!!
If ANY of the warnings upset you or make you uncomfortable, DO NOT read below the cut! go find something else to read in this case.
If you are okay with reading those things then enjoy the tale below the cut.
Feedback and reblogs are appreciated. I do not own Henry nor do I have any personal knowledge of him besides what is common knowledge amongst the Cavillary. Any mistakes and typos are mine, story is not beta-tested. GIF I got from the tumbler search thingy.
When the two of you get back, you quietly shrug off your jacket and shoes and hand the jacket to Henry to hang up. He turns and looks down at you. You’re staring at the floor, shoulders sagging and looking as broken as he is sure you’re feeling. He reaches out gently and caresses your arm. “What do you want or need right now, Kitten. How can I help comfort you?” he asks.
You look up at him with glassy, sad and bewildered hazel eyes. He always loved your eyes. They always held so much expression, and they were unique, like his. Yours seemed to hold every color. The outer edges of your irises were a dark blue fading to gray, the middle of your irises were a mix of green, amber and blue with little flecks of brown and the inner edge around your pupil was a dark brown. Your eyes would change color, he noticed, depending on your moods and what you wore or the background behind you. Sometimes your eyes looked blue as the oceans near his childhood home, sometimes they were a stormy grey, other times green as the fields back home in the springtime. Right now, though, they held only sadness and pain and bewilderment. They looked pale blue and damn near broke his heart.
Henry reached out and caressed your face. “I know you’re hurting, and feeling overwhelmed, Kitten. How can I help you feel better?” he asks again.
You sigh and shrug and look back down at the floor. “I don’t know.” You quietly murmur.
Henry squats down and looks up into your face. His large, warm hand reaches up and just holds your face on one side. You close your eyes and tilt your head into his hand. A few tears trickle out of your eyes. His distinct smell of rosemary from his water he was drinking in the car along with the cedarwood soap he uses, and his distinctive musky man smell floods your senses as he squats down in front of you. His face close to yours now, and you just want to crawl into his arms and stay there forever.
“Sweetheart, I wish I could take this pain and heartache from you. You don’t deserve any of it.” he tells you. “You are very brave for agreeing to press charges and for standing up and telling Dan he’s hurt enough people. I’m proud of you, Sweetheart. I’m proud of you for cooperating with me and going to see the counselor and talking with her a bit. I know your throat is still sore and it hurts to talk.” He tells you. “We both know Dan’s ruined his career doing what he did to you. Don’t worry about things, okay? We’ll take this one day at a time. His scenes are done, you don’t have to deal with him any longer until the court case. So now it’s just you and me and the rest of the cast filming the last bit of scenes for the next four months.” He reminds you gently.
“No one is happy about what he did to you, and no one will blame you for what happened, Kitten. No one will be upset if you struggle for a bit trying to get back into the mindset of your character and the swing of things with filming again. You’ve been through something traumatic, Sweetie, but we’re all here for you and will support you the best we can, okay? You just gotta tell us what you need and when you need it.
If you need a hug, just ask. If you need time to collect your thoughts, then tell someone and take it. If you need to scream and hit something, tell someone and we’ll take you to the workout area and you can punch the bag or we can hold the punching and kicking pads and you can rail on them all you like. But Honey, we can’t help if we don’t know what it is you need.” He tells you. “Don’t shut us out, okay? We want to help you. We want to see you overcome this obstacle and get better.”
You nod. “Okay, Bear,” You say. “can I have something hot to drink? And can we just have supper and sit, and you hold me while I have my ice cream and strawberries?” you inquire. Henry grins, “Of course, Kitten. Go get comfortable and I’ll get you something hot to drink and get your supper and then your treat.” He confirms. You reach out and hug him. “Thank you, my big Bear.” You whisper.” He smiles affectionately and rubs your back and cups the back of your head with his hand. “I’m here for you Kitten. Sorry I couldn’t keep this from happening to you, but I’m here for you now.” he whispers back.
You nod and let go of his neck. You gaze at his face that is almost even with yours now. His blue eyes are bright, and glassy, and the little fleck of brown is hidden under his lid as he looks up at you. You see the love and concern in his eyes, and you reach out and caress his stubbly cheek. You watch his eyes flutter closed when your fingers touch his cheek, and he swallows hard. You run your fingers along the chiseled jaw of your handsome friend, grateful for him being in your life right now. He takes your hand in his, kisses it gently and stands. He gives you a gentle nudge towards the sofa and turns to go in the kitchen to get your warm drink and then supper and your treat.
You go and sit gingerly on the couch, pulling your knees up to your chest and wincing as the bruises and your uterus, vagina and ass all protest the movement. You sigh and think about all the stuff the counselor said. Looking around, you notice some of Henry’s stuff is moved on the various shelves and your stuff has been added to the shelves in the living room. You wonder when he did it, but just shrug.
Henry comes over with your honey lemon tea, then goes back and cooks you another amazing soft meal for supper. Then you have your ice cream and strawberries again, and the two of you spend another evening just cuddling and talking. There’s four months of filming left then another month or so of press junkets and promotions for the film, then you both are done. You agree that the time can’t pass fast enough. You both are looking forward to October and time off.
He watches you as you eat and drink. Your eyes are closed, and you have a contented look on your face as you enjoy your indulgence. He wonders how Dan’s actions are going to affect the reception of the movie if this gets out. His brows furrow at the thought. He wonders how it will affect your career. This is your first movie and he had high hopes it would get you the good kind of recognition to jumpstart your career. You truly are a wonderful actress, and he hopes this doesn’t affect it. He is concerned that if word gets out of what happened you’ll be labeled as the one who ended his career with a rape and assault accusation. He sighs feeling incredibly concerned for you and your future.
You lean against his side as you eat your ice cream and start to feel cold. When you finish your treat, you set the bowl on the coffee table and whimper as your crotch protests the movements.
Henry rubs your back, and you curl up against him. “Bear, just hold me please. I’m cold and you’re a fucking furnace. I need to borrow your heat for a while.” You ask quietly and wrap your arms around his massive chest. He gives you a sad smile and does what you ask, resting his cheek on you head, one of his massive hands cradle the back of your head and the other is placed on your low back.
You hear his heart racing and feel him give you a tight squeeze. Closing your eyes, you let his warmth seep into you. His distinctive scent calming you and his powerful arms making you feel encased in a protective shell. His warm breath you feel on your head as the two of you just sit there and cuddle.
Henry holds you close as you lean into him and he feels his own heart racing. God, he loves you! He wishes he could act on it, but knows it would spell disaster right now with the way things have gone. It infuriates him that Dan knew about your condition and said nothing all during the party knowing he was looking for you. Henry wonders if you were even conscious during the party and wondered how long you had been laying there alone on your bed bleeding. He wonders what he would’ve done if he would’ve left the party and found you in the trailer unconscious and that injured. He held you tighter, not wanting to go that way with his thoughts any longer.
He rests his cheek against your hair and closes his eyes, breathing in the familiar scent of your mint shampoo. It always calmed him smelling it and helped him focus after having to deal with Dan.
You talk about your hopes and dreams with Henry and he shares his. You both realize you have similar desires which makes the two of you smile. Henry picks you up and takes you to his bedroom. “How about we cuddle in bed, so we can fall asleep someplace more comfy?” he suggests. You nod, but are a little nervous. Henry understands your hesitation. “You okay, Kitten?” he asks as the two of you sit on the foot end of the bed.
You shrug. “I just don’t want to… to…” you aren't sure how to tell him what you’re feeling and the fear of losing your friendship with him if things turn intimate. You need his support right now and are afraid of what sharing a bed might do. Henry patiently waits for you to figure out how to put into words what you’re feeling. He sees a myriad of emotions play across your face and he is pretty sure he knows what you’re thinking.
“Kitten, would it make you feel better if we not share my bed?” he asks. “I understand you’re nervous and don’t want things between us to get fucked up, especially now. I get it, Kitten. I won’t push you. If it makes you uncomfortable, I can sleep on the couch.” he says. Your eyes fly up to his. “Oh! No! If anyone should sleep on the couch it should be me, Hen! This is your trailer! I’m fine taking the couch.” you insist.
He tilts his head, uncertainty evident on his face. “You sure, Kitten?” he says, caressing your cheek. You know I won’t do anything to ruin this.” he says. “I know, Bear.” you tell him. “I just need to figure things out. There’s so much swirling in my head and I don’t have any idea how to describe what I’m feeling.” you try to explain. Henry nods.
He picks up two of his pillows and hands them to you, then pulls off the comforter for his bed and digs in a cabinet and pulls out a set of sheets. He nudges you to go back into the living room and he puts the sheets and pillows on the couch, then picks you up, kisses your nose and gently sets you on the make shift bed and covers you with the comforter. “Get some sleep and rest, Kitten. You know where to find me if you need me. You’re always welcome to come cuddle in my bed.” he tells you and caresses your head.
You nod, “Thanks Henry.” you say, and he nods and heads back into his room. He leaves the door ajar so he can hear if you’re having another nightmare.
The middle of the night Henry wakes to find you snuggled against his side. You’re wrapped like a burrito in his comforter and are using him for a pillow. He smiles, caresses your head, and wraps an arm around you then drifts off to sleep again.
More chapters to come...
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#very good friends#henry cavill#henry x reader#PROTECTIVE HENRY#communication#comfortfood#hot tea#ice cream#strawberries#talking#cuddling#fluff#hold me#blanket burrito#hurting#emotional#insecurity#afraid#unsure#concerned#worries#what if#exhausted#tired#best friends#hugs
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chambers - x
pairing: bucky barnes x reader
warnings: violence, angst, slow burn
word count: 3684
Description: post-endgame. Steve Rogers has passed away from old age. The one remarkable thing is that no one knew his heart would be in the condition it was. He was able to save one more life. After receiving his heart, strange things start happening. Including something that would change your life forever. (Inspired by the Netflix series of the same name.)
Were you being naive? Maybe.
You feet pounded against the pavement, head finally going clear for the first time since yesterday. The clouds are finally parting. You kissed Eric. And you liked it, but Steve had to be interfering. The fluttering in your chest wasn’t there. Maybe. Or maybe you didn’t like him as much as you thought you did? You couldn’t figure it out.
He was enamored by you though, he made it clear when you’d shared dinner in your room, wrapped under his arm. “I really like you,” He said. So why did it not make you happy?
Something was wrong.
With you? Maybe. With him? You weren’t sure. He was a sweet guy, charming, funny, handsome. But Steve had to be interfering. Steve’s emotions had to be interfering. Is that why you couldn’t make the connection?
You lapped Eric again. He was laughing, calling after you saying you should go to the Olympics. You didn’t think it was funny.
Bucky met your pace, but he didn’t speak, choosing instead to run alongside you. Silently. Your stomach soured. It was like you cheated on him almost, but you didn’t. Technically if you really think about it, Steve did. Why the fuck did you call him Jaime? Because you thought that would make him soft for you? Because you thought then he would give in?
Two steps forward and one step back. He’d just gotten friendly with you. And you’d ruined it. But maybe this was his olive branch. Maybe you should say you’re sorry. Maybe you should…
“Slow down.” His hand met your arm, halting your movements, your legs shaking. You pushed yourself too far. You breathed heavily, putting your hands on your knees, trying to catch your breath. “Did you not learn anything the last time?” You glared up at him. He rested his hands on his hips, looking out across the field where the agents were beginning warm ups. Eric was among them. “Look, maybe I was a little harsh on you last night.” He sighed, rubbing his eyes before crossing his arms across his broad chest. “You just… caught me off guard.”
“I didn’t mean to say that,” You sighed, standing to your full height, “It just came out.” He nods,
“I know.” The two of you stare at each other for a moment before he continues, “I know you can’t help it, Sam and Bruce… they tell me all the time. It’s just…”
“Hard.” You shift from foot to foot awkwardly, “I know.” He sighed heavily,
“If you want to learn some moves,” He started, “Just defensive, and just in case, I’ll be willing to practice with you. But only because I don’t want you to have to rely on instinct and only because Zemo is a threat, understood?” You nodded rapidly, standing a little straighter. “This doesn’t mean I’m agreeing to send you in as bait and this doesn’t mean I’m agreeing to have you actually fight anyone.”
“Of course,” You agreed, “Sure.” This was a step, and hopefully one that wouldn’t set you too far back.
Wanda stirred her tea, looking over the video. Again and again. Trying to figure out where Zemo had recorded it. There was a window behind him, high off the ground, so it had to be a warehouse. But where?
“How’s it going?” Sam entered the kitchen, popping a k-cup into the keurig.
“There’s no identifying markers, but we could probably enhance the background audio enough to hear if there are cars going by or--”
“How are you doing?” Sam pulled a mug from the cabinet, “Is what I was really asking.” Wanda nodded, shutting the laptop.
“I’m okay,” She hugged herself, “Just worried.”
“They don’t have tesseract power anymore.” Sam reasoned, “And in this universe the infinity stones no longer exist. He destroyed them.” Thanos, Thanos destroyed them.
“But what about the other ones?” She asked, “Steve opened an alternate universe when he stayed, what if in his Thanos never destroyed them?” Sam set his mug down heavily, hands bracing the counter.
“Is this why you can’t sleep at night?” Yes. She shook her head, leaning back in her seat.
“I’m just saying, the possibility is there.”
“Potentially, yes.” Sam took a sip of his coffee. “I wouldn’t even know where to begin to wrap my head around that.”
“Goodmorning,” You called cheerfully entering the kitchen, Bucky passing you to grab a water bottle from the fridge. Wanda smiled,
“How did you sleep?” She asked, holding a hand out to you. You walked into it, letting her pull you into her side.
“I slept alright,” You shrugged, looking at Sam.
“How are you guys?” Sam began making breakfast, something he liked to do.
“Cooking distracts me from other things,” He told you once, “It helps me relax.” It helped that Bucky and Peter had the appetite they did because the amount of food that Sam would cook could feed half the compound.
“We’re going to have a meeting later,” Sam said to you, “You should be there.” Bucky’s spoon clanked against the side of his bowl,
“Is it really necessary?” He asked, glaring at his friend, “What happened to keeping her in the dark?”
“Hasn’t worked out very well,” Wanda mused. “Steve’s passwords are still in the system.” Sam and Bucky both looked at you as you sank down a little in your chair, turning to glare at Wanda. “I think it’s funny that neither of you had even thought about it.”
“How long have you been in the system?” Sam asked, clearing some dishes off the kitchen island.
You shrugged, picking at a string attached to your shirt. “Since I found out who it was.” You glanced at Bucky, then turned your attention back to Sam, “I know what Zemo is capable of with a year of planning, but he may have been planning this for… almost ten years?” You stood to help him clean up, placing your bowl and cup in the dishwasher. “There has to be something deeper than just turning myself over so he can harvest a little blood. I doubt it’s as simple as that.” Sam agreed.
“We’ll talk about this more in the meeting later,” Bucky stood from the stool, “Are you ready?” He asked you.
“Ready for what?” Wanda stood as well, circling the island.
You grinned, “He’s gonna show me some moves.”
Your back hit the mat and you groaned. Steve was not helping today, but today wasn’t also life or death like the other instances had seemed to be. No fight or flight instinct to hone in on.
“Which is good,” Bucky claimed, “Because you can't rely on that.” He held his hand out to you and you felt your heart skip a beat when you grabbed it, letting him help you from the ground. “Here.” His foot kicked your feet apart, hands pulling your elbows tight to your chest. “Try again.”
You swung your right arm the way he’d shown you to, hip turning, ball of foot pivoting, right into his arm, blocking you. “Gotta move faster than that, you’ve got speed on your side versus muscle. Try again.” And again, and again. Until your arms felt like lead and you were panting over the water fountain taking steady sips. Bucky, the show off, was benching five hundred pounds behind you like it was nothing. It rattled you.
How much could you really bench? Steve could do almost a thousand pounds, if not a full thousand. You look down at your own hands, wondering. Could you do half? Because even really two hundred pounds would be incredibly impressive. Maybe you should ask Bruce and Peter about trying? Just like with the running? What if…
“Hey.” Eric. But it didn’t feel like before. You remembered feeling excited to see him before, but now it just filled you with dread. What was happening to you?
“Hey.” You breathed, stuffing your hands in the pockets of your sweatshirt. Eric smiled, brushing the hair out of your face before pulling you into a soft kiss. The weights dropped with a heavy clang. You quickly pulled away, heat rushing to your face as you turned from Eric slightly to see Bucky staring at you with an indiscernible expression in the mirror’s reflection. Your stomach dropped.
“What’s wrong?” Eric’s hand on your arm, turning your attention back to him. Your tongue felt thick in your mouth, vision spinning. Fuck.
Fuck.
Fuck.
You seethed. This jealousy festering in your chest. This hurt. What were you doing? This was so dumb. It’s just Bucky. Your friend Bucky. Your Bucky. Arm wrapped around another beautiful redhead, one who’d pointedly ignored you all night.
“Why did you have to bring him?” She asked when the two of you strolled up. Bucky had rolled his eyes,
“He was invited before you were.” And a pout. But Bucky was handsome, and strong. Girls would compromise if it meant going on a date with him. You were just left to suffer.
Bucky loved dating. And you knew it. He loved going out, dancing, splitting shakes at the diner, taking walks around Brooklyn Heights just as the sun went down and the heat was leaving the pavement. And you were a witness to it all.
You missed the days where it was just the two of you. Days before Bucky was chasing skirts. Back when the two of you were just kicking cans in the street and trading pennies for bubblegum and short comics. Back when you’d only just discovered why Bucky always seemed to have peppermint oil on him and when he would stand between you and whatever problem you’d been trying to face on your own.
Not that he didn’t do that now.
He just didn’t know about this one.
You loved Bucky. And Bucky loved you, but you couldn’t tell if this was really normal or not. This infatuation. You wanted him all to yourself. It was hard to share him with other people. You stuffed your hands heavily in your pockets as you trailed behind the two of them.
Bucky and Vivian.
Vivian a girl with more air between her ears than brain. Her parents came from money and a lot of it. You almost couldn’t bear to be around her. No common sense or real life knowledge and it was no secret that she looked down on you for the financial status you had. You found yourself kicking rocks behind them, hoping one would snag her hose and leave her reeling and needing to go home.
But it wasn’t the case.
“You good pal?” Bucky turned, that fucking smile that made your heart skip a beat. What a fucking joke.
“Yeah,” Steve’s voice came out terse and shaky, “I’m good.” Bucky knew you were lying. His face fell a little before turning back to Vivian and saying,
“Let’s get you home huh?” He shifted his jacket onto her shoulders and you could see her dimpled cheek press against his shoulder. “Gettin’ cold out here.”
You waited off to the side as he stood on the step below her, her arms thrown over his shoulders as she pressed a bold kiss to his lips. The reflection in the window showed a strange expression on your face. One that seemed familiar and not familiar at the same time. You knew you were jealous. You knew you hated that girl. But this was Steve. Steve was jealous. Steve hated that girl.
But why was he showing you this?
“You couldn’t have fucking caught her?” Bucky yelled, cradling your body to his. His left hand growing bloody from the open wound on the back of your head. Eric stumbled over his words,
“It just happened so fast, I didn’t—” He was shaking, following Bucky as he brought you down to the lab.
“Go back to training.” Bucky spat, not turning to look at him. “She’ll call you when she wakes up.” His heart was racing, he knew you’d be fine, but he didn’t need to tell Eric that. Let the asshole sweat it out. Bucky knew the signs. Your eyes unfocused and glassy, the slowness in which you turned your head. A seizure was coming on. The fucking idiot beside you just watched as your eyes rolled and you fell back, hitting your head on the side of the water fountain.
What a fucking moron.
“Peter.” Bucky stated calmly, the younger boy looking up from the slides he was examining to watch Bucky lay your body on the cot. “Get me some antiseptic and bandages, I think she might need stitches.” Your face was pale, eyes moving rapidly behind your lids. To be fair, it always scared the shit out of him, even though Bruce said you’d be fine. It wasn’t a real seizure, it just looks like one.
“What happened?” Peter asked, laying out the items Bucky needed, “What triggered it I mean?” Bucky shrugged, wiping at the mess of blood on the back of your head before a small cut came into view. Not as bad as he thought it was going to be.
“I don’t know,” He put pressure on the cut, grabbing another wipe and sterilizing the needle he was about to use. “Fucking idiot Joston didn’t catch her, clipped her head on the water fountain in the training room.” Peter sucked in his teeth, ripping a bandage package open and grabbing a rag.
“Bruce should be back soon,” He said, “He went to talk to Sam about something with her blood.” Bucky tensed at that, looking at the kid and urging him to continue, “Since Zemo seemed so interested Bruce was having us both examine it, looking for what traces of the serum were in there. Shield had once tried to synthesize the serum after all of it was destroyed, but…”
He took a small light and aimed it at your head where Bucky was neatly giving you three stitches. “We wanted to see if it was even possible, they had never been able to do it. Agent Carter got rid of the samples before they were able to complete their work. But that’s not going to say that paired with the version you received that it would be impossible to recreate something close if not the same as what Steve had.”
Bucky wiped the area with an antiseptic towelette, letting out a heavy sigh, “Still we don’t know what he’s going to try and use it for. He got rid of the Winter Soldier program. Took all five agents out when he could have just kept them, so why now?” Peter handed him the bandage and Bucky carefully applied it to the back of your head, smoothing over it with his fingers.
“That’s what we’re trying to figure out.” Peter began cleaning up the mess as Bucky brushed the hair out of your face, a strange expression on his.
“Let me know as soon as you’ve got something.” A thumb brushed against your cheek softly as you stirred, then retreating footsteps. Your head was pounding. You groaned,
“This has got to stop happening,” You whined, pushing yourself to sit up. Peter’s hands came to your arms, helping you. “I’m more accident prone now than I was before.” You joked, Peter gave you an uneasy smile.
“I don’t think Sergeant Barnes is too keen on it either.” You sighed, fingers coming to brush against the bandage on the back of your head, your hair still slightly damp and sticky with blood. You looked at your red tinted fingers,
“Did he do this?” You ask, shifting on the cot to swing your legs over the side.
“Yeah, seemed pretty pissed at that new recruit about it too.” Eric. Oh shit. Eric. Your vertebrae cracked as you stood, legs still shaky. “Relax, Wanda is on her way.” You look around the lab noticing your chart on the screen, twisting red blood cells under a microscope.
“Gotta start wearing some protective gear soon.” You joked, “What’s going on here?” You pointed to the microscope image being projected onto the screen. Peter looked at it and then back at you before asking,
“Have you talked to your parents about this at all?”
…
“Hey Mom, it’s me. I’m just calling to check in.” You paced your room, trying not to scratch the back of your head where you knew your cut was healing, “I just need to ask you something, so if you could give me a call back whenever. I love you, bye.” You ended the call, looking at your home screen.
It wasn’t unusual for you to go a day or two without talking to your parents. And you were sure to call them every few days just to make them aware that you were still alive and everything was fine. But it had been a while, and aside from the occasional text you hadn’t talked much since getting to the compound.
Maybe that was a mistake.
Zemo had to know about them right? He knew where you were and what you were doing right now supposedly so he had to know something about them. You just hoped they were okay.
They lived right across the bridge in New Jersey, but worked in the city. You had no other siblings, but they had a couple of dogs and lived in a fairly decent house in a suburb not too far away from you. You’d go home sometimes and do your laundry there, steal a couple boxes of cereal out of the pantry, dogsit when they went on vacations.
But you couldn’t help but feel some kind of resentment from them.
They would be better off if you’d just died as a child.
You were always so sickly and needed a lot of care. It took a lot of money to finally get you healthy and to keep you alive. There was no doubt that you harbored some guilt from it, even if they never said anything to you about it. You owed them whatever help you could give them.
It’s why Zemo’s offer seemed so good for a split second.
Until the next second made you realize how selfish that would be and how you could never do that because surely it meant the end of the world. How could it not?
But he had to know that right? That you would never do that? Maybe.
“Are you okay?” Bucky stepped into the room, taking his hands out of his pockets to reach for your bandage, “Let me see how you’re holding up.” Your heart skipped a beat.
“Yeah, I think I’m fine.” Your head was still tender in spots, he gently tugged the bandage back, looking beneath before pulling it off all together.
“You should shower, just be careful with your stitches, they’re almost healed.” He crumpled the slightly bloody thing in his hand before disappearing into the bathroom. You could hear the sink start.
“They’re almost healed?” You asked incredulously.
“Yeah,” He called, “Probably the serum.” What little of it you had. He stepped from the bathroom, drying his hands on a towel. “So… you and Eric?” He leaned against the wall of the bathroom, giving you an odd look.
The look Steve had in the memory.
Was he… “I guess,” You shrugged, sitting on the edge of the bed, “I don’t really have time to think about that right now, but… I don’t think we are really together it’s just…” You shook your head, “Why does it matter?” Why were you defending yourself to him?
“I need you to stay away from him.” He stated simply, tossing the towel aside.
“Because you don’t like him?”
“I have a gut feeling.” Always with the gut feeling. You rolled your eyes. Yes, you might not like Eric as much as you originally thought you did, but avoiding him completely would be almost impossible right now.
“You always have a gut feeling.” You joked.
“Have I ever been wrong?”
“Yes,” You laughed, “You told Steve once that he shouldn’t apply for that job in Manhattan off of a gut feeling, but it worked out and he made good money drawing those comics.” Bucky jokingly scoffed,
“The kid got beaten up left and right in Manhattan with no one to help him.”
“So really you didn’t want him to go because it took him away from you?” The playful joking mood dropped and Bucky gave you a serious look, averting his eyes from yours before quietly replying,
“Yes.” Your heart sank as you stared at him shifting awkwardly across from you. Tugging your lip between your teeth nervously you said softly,
“I’ll be okay Buck. I can handle Eric.” You stood, taking a step closer to him, “It’s Zemo I’m worried about right now,” You gently grabbed his hand, “I’m not too concerned with a crush.” I’m only concerned with you. His blue eyes met yours, focused, he squeezed your hand reassuringly.
Your phone rang, the shrill chimes from the bed ruining the moment. You walked over seeing your Mom’s picture flashing across the screen, “Hey,” You answered breathlessly. “Yeah, how are you?” You gave Bucky an apologetic look and he walked over squeezing your shoulder before leaving the room.
“Why haven’t you called lately?” She asked on the other end, scolding almost.
“I’ve just been busy,” You fell back against the bed, “I have something important to ask you actually.”
“Yeah you said in your message,” You could hear one of the dogs barking in the background. “Sorry, there’s a squirrel on the porch. What is it?” Your heart was racing thinking back to your earlier conversation with Peter. Did you really want to know the answer to this question? And how important was it, really, to relay this answer back to him?
“I just wanted to know…” Could you even ask this question? You picked at the skin on your fingernails, sighing heavily, you closed your eyes before staring intently at the ceiling. “Uhhh nevermind…. just, how have you been the past few weeks? Catch me up.”
Fucking Chicken.
.
.
.
taglist// @nutellakirb @witch-of-letters @torntaltos @emotionallysalty @an-lover @lbuck121 @bookish-shristi @saturnki @jennmurawski13 @geeksareunique @the-soulofdevil @tinmunky @albinotigerpython
#bucky barnes#bucky barnes x reader#sam wilson#wanda maximoff#peter parker#tfatws#the falcon and the winter soldier#steve rogers#the winter soldier#winter soldier#captain america
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Lazy Afternoons || Orion & Winn
Timing: June 3rd (Don’t @ us)
Parties: Orion & Winn ( @packsbeforesnacks )
Location: The Commons
Summary: Winn and Rio meet up to discuss Winn’s disappearance and Winn’s memory loss.
Mixed feelings. That was the only way that Orion knew how to describe what he was feeling as he sat, legs crossed, his feet tucked under them. He had picked a random spot on the grass, his bookbag next to him and filled to the top with books. He had agreed to help Winn. That was what Scribes were supposed to do right? He had questions about werewolves and Scribes were meant to collect and impart knowledge. But that didn’t really answer the question about Winn. Was he angry? He didn’t know enough about the situation to hold a grudge. But he didn’t know how else to feel. Hurt? Scared? Those feelings were both way too complicated. Anger was easier. But his dad being with him made things even more complicated. Maybe. Rio didn’t know how to feel anymore. But there wasn’t much time to dwell on it now. His hearing picked up on Winn’s voice from across the large field. Rio jumped up, spinning around to face Winn and who he assumed was his dad crossing the field to meet them. Awkwardly, and against his better judgement, Rio smiled and waved at the two.
The way to campus wasn’t awkward, per se. Sure, his dad had requested to meet his friend fairly out of nowhere, but Winn didn’t begrudge the man for wanting to be involved in his life. (Even if it was, like, a little weird.) But his dad hadn’t told him why he wanted to meet Rio, beyond some bull about wanting to meet a fellow researcher. There’d been a weird look on his face when he’d said that, like he knew somethin’ about Rio that Winn didn’t. And Winn didn’t… well, he didn’t love that? But he’d made a compromise with Dad. Winn would let him tag along and meet Rio, but only if his dad gave them some time to hash things out alone. His dad was happy to go antagonize his future bosses (and walk Denny through campus). As they approached Rio, Winn tossed a blanket his way. “Hey, help me spread it out. I brought grub.” Winn wasn’t above bribery, so had stopped and gotten Rio some fast food, the same order, exactly, as when they’d been on their way to the retreat-that-wasn’t. And who didn’t love a spring afternoon, lazin’ about on a blanket? He’d almost brought a frisbee, but he figured that would kill the vaguely serious vibe. Winn could only hope this conversation went as halfway decently as the others had. Rio didn’t seem the punchin’ type, at least. Denny sniffed at Rio, and Winn remembered that Rio technically hadn’t been introduced properly to his dog. “Oh, Rio, meet Denny. Denny, it’s not nice to sniff new friends without askin’.” The dog looked at him, then immediately back to Rio — an eye roll in dog language, Winn was pretty sure. “And Rio Quinn meet…”
“Daniel Woods,” Daniel said, holding out his hand to Orion for a shake. “Winn has asked that I,” he held up his fingers, doing air quotes as his students had taught him, “buzz off and let you two talk for a while. Please do go easy on him.” He laughed, tugging on Denny’s leash. “Let’s go, Mister Deniability. I am sure Dean Skaro would love to meet you.” Oh, how Daniel despised that man.
Orion huffed and crossed his arms when he saw that Winn was carrying a bag of food with him across the courtyard. Was this some sort of peace offering? “You can’t just bring food and expect me to— Is that a milkshake too?” Rio squinted his eyes but softened for a moment as he considered the bribe. Eventually, he exhaled the breath that he had apparently been holding and his arms fell to his side. Soon, he completely gave in and bent down to help spread out the blanket. His attempts were thwarted by the dog, but Rio didn’t mind. He held his hand out gingerly, allowing Denny time to get adjusted to the new face before jumping in to try to pet him.
Rio shook the man’s hand, smiling widely and trying to ignore any of the awkward tension, if it could even be called that, between himself and Winn. “Such a pleasure to meet you, sir! I’m super excited to have you join the staff at the college. I’ll make sure that Winn lets me know once you have classes that I can take a look at.” If nothing else, it was always positive to meet another person that was passionate about their academics and learning. Rio knew nothing about the man’s specialty, but he respected him even if he wouldn’t be taking any of his classes.
Eventually, Daniel led the dog away and suddenly Rio was left with just Winn and the food he had brought along. Rio avoided talking as long as he could be shoveling food in his mouth and then taking the longest possible drink from his milkshake whenever he finished chewing. But the food would run out eventually. And if he knew Winn at all, he wasn’t going to go anywhere. “So. You’re back in town obviously. Where did you go?”
The knots in Winn’s stomach hadn’t loosened, even after explainin’ himself over and over again, so he figured food wasn’t an amazin’ idea for him right now. While Rio ate, and super obviously avoided talking, Winn sipped at a sorry excuse for sweet tea. Least it wasn’t raspberry. Every ‘sweet’ tea Winn had tried for the first few months had been fuckin’ raspberry. Northerners. You can drink sugar, you just gotta pretend like it’s healthy. Naw, admit that shit. Be honest. Speakin’ of…
“Look, I wasn’t lyin’ about everythin’ that happened. I mean, not the basics. A lot of it was a big misunderstandin’, and I didn’t even know y’all thought I was gone until Noah popped me one square on my jaw.” A sip of tea. “You haven’t known me that long, but I really hate lyin’, if I can avoid it. So, um, my name is… well, was Winthrop Linton Zhou. Dad used to be the English department chair down at Georgetown. Mom was in Congress. I, um… some bad shit went down with a Hunter — the kind we both hate — and from there shit gets… blurry. Literally. I wish I could tell you why I was in White Crest, but some shit’s been goin’ on recently, some people suggestin’ maybe I don’t know who I am. And I… Well, I figured the quickest way to remind myself of who I am was to go and talk to the folks who knew me best. Dad. And, uh, my ex-boyfriend-slash-packmate.”
“I didn’t mean to be gone for more than a couple of days, but my dad is a, uh, huxian? Or, shit, what do the Japenese legends call them… kitsune? Foxes. Apparently, when a huxian has a kid with a human, it’s a bit of a coinflip on whether or not the kid comes out human. I got the human end of the coin, so my dad kept my nose out of the supernatural side of the world until… well, until I found it myself. But shit went down, I only found out Dad was, again, literally a fox, last week.” Okay, yeah, naw, Winn couldn’t do this sitting up. He flopped down into the space next to Rio, head resting against Rio’s thigh. “But, um, Dad suggested maybe I’d lost my memory? Or… had it taken? Wanted to rule out, um, wolf-causes before I went after… other causes. And when I asked you, I mean, I thought there was no way it was anything other than some wolf shit. Now, I don’t really know.” He scrubbed at his eyes with the palms of his hands. “So, um. What’s new with you? Likin’ the hair color.” Winn winked up at Rio.
Orion sat patiently, silently while listening to Winn’s timeline. At first it just sounded… like an excuse. Rio had heard enough of them. He remembered all the rushed excuses as to why they had to rush away from Rio if they had gotten stuck in a conversation after Athena was gone. Rio wanted to believe that he had changed since high school. Grown in some way. Enough to be unbothered by people who showed little interest in him or at least enough to know that he was worth more than that. But maybe nothing had changed at all.
But his story started to get way more specific. And way more personal. There was a lot to unpack here. The ex boyfriend, the powerful parents. Some past history with a hunter. His father was a Kitsune? The father that Rio had just casually introduced himself to? Immediately, Rio had to wonder how old the man was. How many pieces of the history that Rio studied so passionately had he been a part of? Rio had so many questions. And Rio needed to remind himself that none of them were important right now given the rest of Winn’s- Winthrop’s?? Story. “Your name is Winthrop?” Rio blurted out, for some reason, that being a key element sticking out in the story, “Sorry- that is the last thing that’s important right now. Ignore me.”
What was important right now? Winn ran through the timeline so quickly that he wasn’t sure what to ask. Or if he should ask. Winn had been intentionally vague about the hunter story? Was it Rio’s business to ask questions? To pry into that portion of his life. Something important enough to lead into another series of unfortunate events that ended up with him in White Crest of all places.
He figured that was for another time when Winn dove back into the source of their original plans. The memory loss. And its connection to being a wolf for a long period of time. Rio still wasn’t sure what he thought. He felt emotional. From the anger that he felt prior to Winn getting here to the confusion he felt hearing Winn spill his guts to him. Rio was just confused. “I uh- well I don’t know. For sure. Memory loss spells exist. I don’t know much about them though. Aside from that, I don’t think we can discount the idea that it is caused by being a wolf for a prolonged period of time. We have no idea how animals perceive time. It’s arguable that spending so long in that form could alter one’s sense of time or self.” He tapped his fingers against the bookbag, not yet pulling any of the books out but trying to pull some of the information from them through some unknown form of osmosis.
“Me? Uh- pretty boring stuff. I sleep like maybe two hours a night if I sleep at all. Been studying some ancient demon language to try to research the creepy cult that showed up in town for the squid. Did a blood ritual that gave me a creepy third eye in my hand that sometimes opens and gives me visions of chained demons. Oh! And I dyed my hair pink. So thanks.” He tried answering as nonchalantly as possible. He didn’t want to give too much detail. He was upset that he believed Winn’s excuse. If it was all some lie, Rio was as gullible as ever. If it was the truth, then why did Rio still feel so hurt?
“Um, was?” Winn tried. “Couple extra days down south to get it all changed, but it’s not my name anymore.” He left that hanging in the air, hoping Rio would drop it. It wasn’t important and, unlike Blanche or Noah, Winn knew Rio wouldn’t bring it up unless it was relevant. And, given it would never be relevant again, he figured he’d be safe. “It’s fine. I’m not going to ignore you, man, not even if you beg. Um, if you have any… questions, we can, like. I’m tryin’ to be more honest, so, like… Hit me.” He was tired of telling this story, sure, but there were things that Rio didn’t know about him. And whether or not the younger man ‘deserved’ to know them, Winn wanted this to be a space where Rio felt like he could, at least, ask.
“There’s, um, another thing. I haven’t… told anyone this, but I took wolfsbane for a while. Months. It was… laced with something. Honestly, couldn’t tell you what, and I doubt it’s in my system after all of these years. It— I thought I had stopped taking it around the time the… gap starts, but… Well, I don’t know much about wolfsbane, don’t know much about drugs, but I’ve also never met another wolf who took it for that long, who took it when it wasn’t the Moon.” He sighed, covering his eyes with his hands. The sun wasn’t that bright — well, and they’d be due for another blink soon — but Winn could feel a headache blooming in the back of his head.
“I appreciate you bein’ honest, man. It’s… Well, it’s fine to not know somethin’, even if it makes this all a bit… harder, for me to accept. There’s, uh, this guy. Says he knew me, but I’ve never seen him. We kinda… had it out. I don’t like bein’ told who I am, and I freaked out a bit, and… Anyway, my ex told me that he remembered a man whose name started with an S. So, I… Could something carve out so much time? And what happens if I get those memories back?” He took in a breath, trying to keep the slow creep of anxiety at bay. “I’m scared, Rio. Scared of what could have happened to do something to me like that. And if I did it myself, I mean— There’s just so much I don’t fucking know.”
He laughed, already more exhausted from this conversation than he’d been all week. Not that that was Rio’s fault. “I don’t mean to keep dumpin’ on you, man. You’ve got your own shit, and I’m… Christ, I’m bein’ a really bad friend right now, huh?” Winn leaned up from his place on Rio’s leg, and smiled sadly. “Demons. I— Man, I know you want to help, but it fucking sucks that you’re probably one of our only hopes. You don’t deserve this shit. I mean, none of us do, but you…” Winn looked at the sun, well, the eyeball, as it blinked slowly, and the lights went out. “Not to get all deep in the dark here, Rio, but do you ever wonder, like, why us? I mean, I know I chose to become a wolf, but I didn’t… I didn’t choose to be hated and feared. You didn’t choose to be born with the gene, but you did choose to help, but why… Why should we even have this shit around to help with?”
“I’m sorry,” Winn said, after a moment. “Really, truly, I am. I took for granted that people wouldn’t… care. If I left. And, fuck, I can’t even look you in the eyes and say I wouldn’t have done somethin’ like y’all thought I did. I didn’t, but I might’ve. Which is shitty. I told y’all, I told you, that we were friends. And I thought… I don’t know. I thought y’all didn’t care as much as I did. And, like, I’m not tryin’ to put words in your mouth, or give you a sob story. That ain’t the point. I just… figured no one would be hurt, whenever I had to leave. I was wrong. And— Shit, I just want you to know that I care about you, Orion. And I want to stick around, ‘cause y’all make my life better. I was… I was in a bad place when I came to White Crest. I’m not in a perfect place now. But I want to be here, for whatever… for whatever that’s worth. So long as y’all will have me.” And then, the sun came back, and Winn winced. Monologuing in the dark. Very chill Winner.
This was all way too much for Orion to handle right now. He had too much going on. Stressing over this just took his attention away from the plethora of other things that Rio had to stress over at the moment. But Winn was trying. He was really trying. He was rambling. Giving more information than Rio knew what to do with. His name was legally Winn now. Which seemed significant, though Winn didn’t seem too apt to talk about it. And Winn seemed open to any questions. Rio felt too tired to even ask questions right now. Especially when he felt there was still so much he didn’t know. He pushed the offer to the back of his mind for a moment. He’d circle back around to that.
Thinking about an actual assignment helped to ground Rio. He could think better when he was thinking as a researcher than something else. The idea of trying to help Winn with his research was pretty much the only thing that had convinced Rio to actually meet Winn out here. “Not knowing something actually really stresses me out so…” Rio let the sentence fade out, pausing to take a drawn out drink from his milkshake. “This just reminds me of all the other stuff I don’t actually know about.” Winn was missing information. Rio knew about Wolfsbane, knew it’s intended effects. But hadn’t known that wolves took it… recreationally? It must be like some kind of drug. “It depends on the source. If the memories were magically taken then arguably they could be magically restored. Probably.” Not that Rio was any expert on magic. “But- I mean it could be something completely mundane too. Maybe they’re repressed memories. Something your brain blocked out as some sort of defense mechanism. Did you ask your ex? Or do you know that other guy that could help fill in the blanks? Maybe if you start hearing them it will jog some sort of memory?” It was definitely more of a theory than anything Rio was confident about. He wasn’t a doctor though. He definitely wasn’t qualified to talk about this.
Rio wanted to laugh with Winn regarding the ridiculousness of the town, but when he tried it came out as more of a choked sob than anything else. “I’ve been asking that same question since… I don’t know. Probably like ten-ish? I’ve known about the supernatural for a long time. Practically my whole life. But I didn’t understand what I was at first. I like learning about others. I didn’t realize I was learning how to become a killer.” Rio couldn’t remember the moment that he had his epiphany. But it was harder to remember a time where he didn’t feel that way.
“Well… we do care.” Rio crossed his arms. There were things he wanted to say. So many doubts that filled his head that he needed answers for. If only he wasn’t too afraid to say them. Or maybe… maybe he should just say them. “Look, I- I just want to know-” Rio paused again. He didn’t know what to say. He didn’t know how to be confrontational. “I need to say stuff but I can’t say it with you looking at me so…” Rio looked at him, motioning silently for him to turn away before he finally resorted to pleaing, “Please?” When Winn wasn’t looking at him anymore, Rio followed suit and stared at the ground, focusing on counting blades of grass as he spoke. “I didn’t have any real friends growing up. I guess my sister was one of the few. I don’t even know if we were friends or not. But she did care about me. And she tried to get others to like me. She was popular. I wasn’t. The first couple years she tried to pull me into the popular group. Her friends were nice to me. Nice enough. Until she wasn’t with us to supervise. What I’m saying is- I’ve spent my whole life with pity friends. And I don’t need those. I don’t want those in my life anymore. But I can’t figure out who actually wants to be my friend and who just feels bad for the nerdy, quiet kid with social anxiety. So- if that’s what this is. I don’t care, okay? No hard feelings. We can just cut out losses and go. Because I have a lot going on and I don’t have the emotional capacity for it.” Rio realized he was gasping for breath once he was finally done talking. At first he thought that it was from rambling, but he realized quickly that he was hyperventilating. It felt like the onset of a panic attack, but Rio was keeping things surprisingly under control. He just needed to try to keep it that way.
Winn laughed, short, almost a bark. “You’re telling me... I don’t even know what I don’t know. César — the ex — doesn’t know much. Just when I stopped talking to him.” A frown, considering Rio’s story about being a Hunter. He felt for the younger man, truly. “I can’t imagine what that was like — having your curiosity taken advantage of like that.”
But Rio didn’t linger long on his past as a child of killing machines. No, instead, surprisingly, he pivoted to his own feelings. Winn would be proud, if not for the way his heart broke in two as Rio described so-called pity friends. And then he was proud, so proud, because Rio was asking him, point-blank, where they stood. Sticking up for himself. Winn wanted to hug Rio. He would. Winn turned back towards the younger, wrapping him up from behind in the biggest embrace he could manage, trying to pour the truth of his friendship, of his affection for Rio, into the squeeze. “Dude,” he said, firmly. “I would never do that to you. I like you ‘cause you’re smart, compassionate, and pet me on the scruff if I ask nice. We are friends. I swear. Maybe not close friends, not yet, but I don’t... I’m choosier than you’d think, about those I let into my life. And I want you here, if you want to be here. Of course I do.” He gave Rio another squeeze for good measure, and held it there for a moment, giving the other man a moment to compose himself.
Orion sighed, wishing that he had something, anything more that he could offer to Winn. But for now, Rio had nothing else to give. He could do some more deep diving. It didn’t make sense that Winn was the first this had ever happened to. It couldn’t have. There had to be an explanation. Rio just had to find it. “Sorry. It must be really frustrating. Losing chunks of time like this.”
Rio couldn’t believe he had actually built up the courage to lay it out like that. He could only have his friends to thank for this newfound courage. And he wasn’t sure what he expected. Nobody wanted to admit that they were just hanging out with someone out of pity, but Rio hoped that given the circumstance and how honest Rio had just been with Winn that Winn would afford the same honestly. What he hadn’t expected was to be hugged. Rio went still immediately from the surprise. Affection always took Rio off guard, but it wasn’t an unpleasant feeling. Rio had come to find that in certain situations he actually enjoyed being hugged. By the right people.
Rio really wasn’t expecting for Winn to go into detail on why he liked him. Rio was happy to get an honest answer, but all the spotlight and attention on Rio made him beet red. Maybe he shouldn’t have asked in such a public park, where prying eyes could make Rio feel even more uncomfortable and seen. All he wanted was to be invisible. “Oh. Wow. Well, that was super honest. So, uh, thanks… for being my friend?” He was fumbling through words now, unsure how to respond. When Winn unwrapped the hug, Rio sat back on the blanket and pulled his legs up into what looked like a fetal position. “So, uh— research was sort of a bust this time around. But I brought some extra books with me that we could start looking into? After I finish the rest of my food.” He dug into his bookbag for the tools he was using to change the subject. Maybe Rio was still a bit hurt, but it was at least good to know that Winn was an actual friend.
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OK, this is random and silly, but also a bit mushy, not really my usual thing at all, but I felt the need for a squishy Virgil and to let you all awwww. This is my offering for this week's #fabfivefeb that the lovely @gumnut-logic is hosting. Enjoy.
"Duck…duck…duck...duck….GOOSE!" The young boy slammed his hand down on Selene's head, packing a powerful punch for one so small. The boy shot off like he'd been fired from a cannon to the cheering of his schoolmates.
"Selene, you gotta run!" Gordon bellowed. It took Selene a second to scramble to her feet but then she took off, running the perimeter of the circle.
"No! This isn't Baseball, you don't need a home run!" Alan laughed so hard he actually fell backwards out of the circle.
"Chase him!"
She changed course and raced after her attacker, who was as slippery as a greased eel and dodged around her, easily avoiding her.
"Catch him!" Virgil yelled encouragingly.
"I'm trying!" The young boy slipped out of her grasp and threw himself down into her vacated spot.
"Home!" he smiled triumphantly.
"Heck, I missed," she threw up her hands in mock disappointment, "I guess I'll just have to sit out." She didn't get more than two paces before she was called back.
"Sel, you can't leave, that's not how the game works," Virgil grinned from his spot on the ground, where he was sitting cross legged, just like everyone else.
"I can't?"
"Nope," Alan chimed in.
"THIS GAME MAKES NO SENSE! Why do we even have ducks and geese, what's that all about?"
"Haven't you ever played this before?" Gordon looks horrified.
"No! I never played that at school."
"What did you play then?" A little girl asked her.
"We played lots of other games, I suppose one of the closest to this is British Bulldog."
"What's that?" a smaller boy who had been looking incredibly bored, suddenly sat up and took notice.
"Yeah, I've never heard of that one," Gordon admitted.
"Can we play it now?" a smaller girl asked.
"I… I guess so, I mean, I don't see why not."
"How does it work?"
"Well, the aim of the game is to run from one side to another, without getting caught, kids are only allowed to do touch tagging, adults are fair game. We start off with four people in the middle who have to catch and tag as many people as possible, the ones that get tagged join the catchers in the middle. We run back and forth until one person is left that makes it safely to the other side."
"That sounds fun," Alan grinned, "I'm in!"
EARLIER THAT DAY
"Once again I want to thank you all for doing this, and apologise for not being able to attend myself, we had a minor disaster with Hyper2, nothing to worry about, just a small acceleration problem," Tycho Reeves' hologram floated above the instrument panel of Thunderbird Two where John usually appeared.
"Acceleration problem? I'm not going to have to shoot down another tube am I? We didn't bring Four."
"No, no, it's not that type of problem," Tycho assured them. "The issue is that as soon as we reach full acceleration she starts to go backwards. We think the safety cut off Brains designed is working a little too well."
Selene heard Alan's muffled snort of laughter behind her but managed not to join in, unfortunately Gordon wasn't so disciplined.
Tycho cleared his throat before continuing.
"As I explained to Scott, the school is counted as a low income area and so it's helped by the charity I patron. They are doing heros week and International Rescue was the most written about people. The competition was held over three schools in the district and the essay that was chosen belongs to a boy named Will."
They all nodded, having read the brief.
"I've scheduled you in for two hours but the school is more than happy for you to stay as long as you like, the kids especially would like you to have lunch with them if possible."
"I'm always up for lunch," Gordon said, having managed to gain control of his laughter.
"We'll stay as long as we can," Virgil promised, "but if an emergency comes in, we'll have to go."
"Wouldn't expect anything less," Tycho smiled, cutting the feed with a goodbye nod.
"This is going to be so much fun!" Alan cheered.
"This is going to be hell," Selene groaned.
"You didn't have to come," Virgil pointed out gently. "I don't know why you're making such a fuss, you're great with kids."
"I had to, I couldn't leave all the girls to the mercy of all your testosterone, they had to know that girls can be part of a team too. But I'm still allowed to make a fuss," Selene grumbled.
"We aren't."
"You're boys, it's common knowledge that boys have a hidden inner child that's always bursting to get out."
"I resent that remark," Gordon mock huffed.
"Plus," Selene continued as if he had never spoken, "you aren't the ones with a womb that your Grandma is determined to guilt into popping out great-grandchildren."
"Would that be so bad?" Virgil asked innocently and she could already see the images he was imagining from the little smile forming on his face.
"Yes! With all that Tracy super sperm, I'd have a herd in a year! You guys don't just stop at one."
Alan choked, Gordon laughed so hard that no sound came out, just a wheeze like asthmatic bagpipes.
"Bit dramatic, don't you think?" Virgil's eyebrow arched but his lips twitched as he held back a grin.
"Not really. But, we talked about it and neither of us feel even remotely ready to think about anything like that, it's just not the right time. Honestly, I don't know if it will ever be the right time or if we'd even want any, at the moment we don't. Much the same as we aren't getting married to please everyone else, I'm not popping out kids for any reason other than us wanting them either."
"Fair enough," he nodded, seeing her point. "You know, Dad used to go to schools and talk to the kids about being an Astronaut. One time he came to the school that Scott and I were at and it was so weird to see all our classmates going crazy over his stories, stories we'd heard a million times before and thought were rather boring. To them he was Jeff Tracy, Astronaut, but to us he was just Dad, the slightly goofy guy that made us do our homework and gave us chores to do around the house."
"Do you think that Dad will want to do it again after we bring him home?" Alan asked, not remembering anything that Virgil was talking about. Selene reached over to take his hand, giving it a little squeeze.
"Oh I'm sure he will," Virgil smiled fondly, "that was the only time that people thought he was cool, he'd never give up a chance to tell impressionable kids all about space."
Gordon laughed. "He got John and Alan but never managed with me, I prefer to keep my sights set a little lower and wetter."
"Boy, do not be saying stuff like that in front of the kids," Selene warned as Alan sniggered beside her.
"I just meant-"
"We know what you meant," Virgil laughed.
"Well I'm just going to shut up if I'm going to keep getting picked on!"
They lapsed into silence until the school playing field came into view, the only place big enough to land. There was already a crowd of children and teachers waiting to greet them.
"Wow, that's a lot of kids," Alan's eyes grew wider as he looked out of the window to the field below. "Can we handle that many?"
"Luckily we won't have to, we're doing a talk to everyone in the school hall, and then going to hang out with the winner and his class," Virgil assured him.
"So only say, thirty kids, not 300?"
"Yep."
Alan nodded. "That we can handle."
Virgil brought the big craft down softly on the grass, and even the soundproofing of Two couldn't drown out the cheers and excited screams of the children.
"Here we go," Gordon gulped as they walked down into the belly of the craft to make their appearance.
***
"And remember the golden rule, be safe, be careful, and be kind. Those in need of help aren't just the ones in danger, they are the ones being bullied, being hurt, or in a sad situation. There are some things in life that people can't help and there are some that they can, and you are the next generation of International Rescue Agents, it's your job to make sure that you help as many people as you can," Virgil smiled, looking around at the rapt faces of the kids.
" You don't have to be big to be a help, " Alan chimed in.
" You don't have to be super strong," Gordon continued.
" You don't even have to be a boy, " Selene added to the cheers of a number of girls in the audience. "You don't have to be an action man to help someone, sometimes the help that people really need is to know they have a friend, someone to have their back and to stand with them when they need it. Emotional support is just as important as physical support."
"Wherever you go, whatever adventures you go on, remember to always think things through and plan for your safety. It can be a big, dangerous world out there and taking risks makes it all the more likely that you'll end up in trouble. Always play safe," Gordon instructed, reiterating the lessons they had just gone over involving safety in the water, out in nature and even in the city and towns. Danger was everywhere, they knew that better than anyone and knew that a situation could turn deadly in a matter of seconds if you weren't fully prepared. They had instructed them on how to make themselves as safe as possible if they did get into trouble, how to call for help and what to do while waiting for help to arrive. Now they were making sure that their lessons had hit home and wrapping up the talk.
"Always carry your phone," Alan continued to drum in their words of caution, "and never be afraid to ask for help, because there is always someone willing to step up. It could be the police, the fire service, paramedics, mountain rescue, the coastguard or even us."
"We aren't the hero's, we're just the ones that use the equipment and knowledge we have to the best of our abilities, and you can too. You can be a hero, you don't need a Thunderbird, you just need a good heart and to be a good friend," Virgil concluded. "Thanks for listening to us today, remember what we said, and together we can all make the world a better place.
The teachers started clapping first, then the children joined in. Selene watched her boys visibly relax as they finished, not really used to public speaking.
The principal joined them at the front of the hall and thanked them for their time.
"Are there any questions for International Rescue before we finish and go back to our lessons?"
A sea of hands shot up and Principal Jones waited patiently for them to pick a few children.
Virgil scanned the little faces, the waving arms and the zeroed in, pointing to a smaller boy sitting on the end of a row, who startled and looked around to make sure that it was actually him who had been picked. He was clearly very nervous and not used to being noticed, but he sat up straighter, his voice growing louder as he gained confidence.
"Hi, my name is Jason, I just wanted to ask-"
"Speak up, Jason, we can't hear you," a teacher called encouragingly.
Jason took a deep breath and spoke again, this time a little louder. "How did you guys get so big, big enough to help people? Were you ever smaller, like me?"
"Alan's still small," Gordon quipped, earning himself a glare from his brother.
"Believe it or not, we were all small at your age," Virgil answered, ignoring his brothers.
"Even you?"
"Even me."
"So I won't stay this small forever?"
"Hey, there's nothing wrong with being smaller," Alan insisted. "You don't measure a person's worth on how big they are, but on what they do. You don't have to be big to be brave."
"Jason will never be brave or big then," a voice called out from the other end of the row.
Jason hung his head, looking down at his shoes, clearly embarrassed.
"Hey, that's not a very nice thing to say, Jacob," Principal Jones called out. "We don't bully people here, were you not listening to a word these nice people said?"
"Sorry Principal Jones," Jacob called back, sounding a little less cocky and a little more contrite.
Virgil was off before anyone realised he was moving, coming to a stop beside Jason's seat. He hunkered down, getting as close to the boys level as he could.
"Don't ever let anyone tell you that you can't be brave, OK?" He was speaking directly to the boy but his deep voice carried across the hall with little effort, making sure that everyone heard him.
"But it's true, I'm not brave."
"Sure you are, you're talking to us now aren't you? That's brave."
Jason didn't answer.
"There's nothing wrong with being quiet, you know. Not everyone has to be loud and the center of attention."
"But how will I ever be a Thunderbird if I can't be brave and talk to people?"
"I know it's hard, but you don't have to talk to people face to face to be brave or to help people."
"I don't?"
"No, our brother is much like you, he doesn't like to be around many people or to talk to them if he can help it, but he still spends all day, every day helping people."
"How does he do that?"
Virgil smiled. "He listens. And sometimes that's all people need, to know that there is someone out there that cares enough to listen for those that need help. We couldn't do our job without him."
Jason appeared to think about this for a few moments before he nodded. "OK, I'll do that, I'll listen to people and make sure they get help if they need it."
"Good plan," Virgil hauled himself to his feet, patting the boy gently on the shoulder before joining the others once again.
"Are there any more questions?" Principal Jones asked and once again what looked like a million hands shot up into the air.
"It's going to be a long day," Gordon whispered to Selene in a side whisper.
***
"So, everyone clear on the rules?" Selene called over the noise of almost forty excited kids and three grown men who were just as loud.
She, Gordon, Will and a little girl named Mandy were lined up in the center of the games area, while Virgil, Alan and the rest of the children stood in a pack in front of them.
"On your marks, get set, GO!" their teacher yelled, blowing a whistle. The kids surged forwards, Virgil and Alan running with them.
Selene managed to tap two gently on the shoulder, Gordon tagged four and Will and Mandy tagged one each before the rest made it to the other side and safety.
The eight tagged children joined them in the middle, spreading out to form a line of defense.
"We've got them now!" Gordon crowed as the whistle blew again. This time he only caught two and Selene didn't manage one. They were slippery little buggers who could duck and dive better than Kayo.
Third round and Gordon leapt on a screaming Alan, bringing him down to the ground in a tangle of limbs. Selene went after Virgil but missed.
Fifth round and they had all but three children and Virgil in the center, ready to rumble.
"Team, we've made it this far, we've done our best, no matter what happens next, no matter who wins or who falls, we're all winners!" Virgil's rousing speech was met with whoops from his team mates as they exchanged high fives then prepared to run. The whistle blew and they sprang forward.
Two were caught instantly and joined the ranks of the catchers, one dodged past three kids and dived between Selene's legs only to be tagged by Gordon who was protecting her rear. That left…
Alan broke away from the pack and chased after Virgil who was running full pelt, trying to reach the end of the line and dodge around the edge, unable to plow through the middle.
With a battle cry that sounded like a strangled baboon, Alan leapt onto his brother's back.
"Bundle!" he screamed and a gaggle of kids rushed to his aid.
They swarmed Virgil, some grabbing onto his legs, others hanging off his arm as he fought valiantly to keep moving. Technically he had lost the second Alan had landed on his back, but they were clearly having too much fun to stop.
Virgil continued his attempt to walk but eventually he had to give in and admit defeat.
Declaring Virgil the winner, the kids teacher pried a few enthusiastic kids off his leg, although he asked her to leave the little girl who had hold of his hand and was refusing to let go.
It was a tired but happy group of children who waved goodbye to their heros an hour later.
Selene sat back in her chair with an exhausted sigh, Alan beside her. It didn't take long for his eyes to droop shut and his head to come to rest on her shoulder.
She pulled out her phone and started to flick through the pictures she'd taken. There was Gordon making faces with a couple of boys, there was Will reading out his prize winning essay, Alan pointing out various planets and constellations on a map to a number of enthralled kids and last Virgil. The little girl who wouldn't let go of his hand now perched on his lap, hugging his arm as he sat on an impossibly small chair that looked like it was about to buckle any second, a ring of starstruck children sitting on the floor in front of him while he told them stories of their rescues.
Selene had always known that he was an amazing big brother, just like Scott was but for different reasons. Scott was the one that would leap to your defense and want to pummel whoever had hurt his sibling, but he had a devilish streak that surfaced now and then. Virgil always had his brothers backs, he was always there, ready to lend a hand and help them out of any situation, he was the solid, comforting presence that soothed your fears and made everything better. Seeing him with the kids had given her a glimpse of what he must have been like with Alan and Gordon when they were younger and it made her love him all the more.
She hadn't said anything while they had been speaking of children, but one of the reasons she and John were so dead set against kids at that moment in time was because John, as well as the others, knew only too well just how hard it was to grow up missing a parent, and for Alan he'd done it twice. They led dangerous lives and the thought of one of them possibly not making it home to their children one day wasn't something they wanted to think about. But now, seeing how they were with the kids at the school, Selene knew that any child she had would have the most wonderful family to look out for them, with four amazing uncles, a kick ass Auntie in Kayo, a tough as nails Grandma and hopefully a Grandfather that would adore them.
#virgil tracy#alan tracy#gordon tracy#thunderbirds#thunderbirds are go#thunderbirds fanfiction#thunderbirds 2015#TAG#fabfivefeb
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High School Re-Moo-nion | Teresa & Luce
Controlling her breathing, Luce maintained a quick but measured pace as she ran around the outskirts of the UMWC campus. With the return of the sun, she was taking advantage of actually being able to see where the fuck she was going and not have to hold her phone’s flashlight on whenever she was running. It was a nice change of pace, in a very literal way. As she continued to run, Luce glanced over at the athletic fields. Sometimes the women’s rugby team would be playing and she didn’t mind checking that out, in a purely athletic way. Totally just out of athletic interest. But, the fields were empty, except for a couple guys playing soccer at the far end away from her. Damn. Pulling her eyes from the field, she rounded the corner that led further away from campus towards the woods-- what the fuck? Jogging to a stop, Luce stared in confusion, not sure what to make of the sight in front of her. A giant fucking cow was walking out of the forest that surrounded the town, ambling right towards her. “Whoa there, Bessie.” She said, holding up her hands. What the fuck was a cow doing here?
Teresa was doing her counts, getting ready to round every one up and when she noticed one of the cows was missing. She already knew who it was. She didn’t need to look any further. It was one of their brown swiss named Perla. That girl was just too curious and too sweet for her own good. She loved meeting people and going up to them and that’s probably what led her out in the first place. She enclosed the cows before heading to the horse - if it had just been Tez to come along, she wouldn’t follow her home but the horse provided a bit of a fear that made her more eager to return home. Once she saddled up, her mother was outside the door, wondering what was going on. “Perla.” Was all Tez needed to say before her mom nodded knowingly and went back inside. Teresa had a few of Perla’s favorites to check on. However, she figured if the owner of the drive-in hadn’t called her yet, she most likely wasn’t there. She was probably cutting through the University’s campus to make her way to the Common. Teresa only hoped she wasn’t too late and the cow hadn’t gotten deep into Downtown yet.
As the cow continued to walk up to her, Luce glanced around. Most of the students were either in classes, in their dorms, or just not interested in putzing around the woods. Which was fair. She probably wouldn’t be around here either if she was a student. “C’mon, back up there.” Luce warned, holding her hands up in front of her. But, realistically, what was she going to do? Push it? She didn’t really know much about cows, but she was pretty sure this wasn’t how cow tipping worked. As the big animal continued to lumber towards her, she felt her fingertips grow warm. Mmmmm, turning it into a steak seemed a little overkill. And messy. Taking a breath, she started to back away, trying to make a wide circle around the cow. If she went back into the woods, it would probably go off on its way to the college, right? “So you want a good education, huh? You live your life, I’ll live mine.” She said as she tried to move away from the cow. But the damn thing just stared at her with big brown eyes and followed after her. Shit.
Teresa exited the woods surrounding the campus and started looking around. Typically she gathered where people would be, sometimes Tez could swear she knew the general schedules and when most classes finished. As her horse tread along, she spotted the cow and was relieved albeit slightly annoyed at the silly cow but then saw her moving toward someone and given how she was walking away from her, she probably didn’t want anything to do with the cow. She urged Frida to head to the cow but it seemed Perla had heard the familiar sound of her horse and picked up speed heading in the direction of the person which wasn’t ideal. She was too close for Teresa to feel confident about cutting her off and not potentially injuring either girl or the cow. Her plan wasn’t working so Teresa quickly unmounted the horse and started jogging toward them. “She won’t hurt’cha.” She reassured. Thankfully, Teresa was just a little bit faster than the cow and she cut her off, causing the cow to snort and turn. “Where do you think you’re going?” She muttered to the cow in spanish, hands raised, ready to try and grab a hold of her. She turned around, wondering if the cow did actually startle her. “You good?” As she turned the cow hit the brim of her hat causing it to flop onto the floor. “Hey!” She fully turned to pick up the hat from the ground, not seeing the cow start to head off once more.
At the sound of someone speaking behind her, Luce turned around and saw a woman jogging over to her, looking real fucking Brokeback Mountain. Down to the horse, in fact. “Ah, great. Then why does she keep coming towards me?” Luce asked skeptically and continued to back away. She watched as the woman hurried up to the cow. Probably its owner? Made sense with the cowboy get-up. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just didn’t expect to run into a goddamn cow.” As she spoke, Luce blinked as the cow knocked the woman’s hat off and began to hurry towards the campus. Was it really trying to make a break for it? What kinda weird ass cow..? “I think your cow’s real interested in getting a college degree.” She said, her tone wry now that the big hunk of beef had wandered away from her.
Teresa stood up and turned around, seeing the cow walking away. She put her hat back on. “Uh, she just really likes bein’ with people. I think they pet her and give her food so she always wants to keep comin’ back.” She glanced back at the stranger, only then realizing there was a hint of familiarity that she couldn’t place but she wasn’t about to try and guess or even ask. “Sorry if she scared you. She’s actually pretty friendly and maybe too curious for her own good.” She let out a soft laugh at her cow’s antics before realizing the other girl probably didn’t care or even know what was so funny. Swallowing roughly, she stood there for a moment. “Scuse me.” She gave a brief nod and headed for the cow once more who seemed to find interest in a shrub. Teresa chided her in spanish trying to shoo her away from them and it worked, only that she was coming back around to the girl. Leave it to her to get the run around in front of someone. It was fine when she played these games in the middle of the woods with no one around but not when someone else could be watching.
Folding her arms across her chest, Luce quirked an eyebrow. She hadn’t been scared by the cow. Confused, sure. Not sure what to do about it, totally. Scared? Not at all. If she’d been scared she would have just turned it into a roast beef sandwich. Which probably wouldn’t have endeared her to Little Miss Cowboy over there. “She didn’t scare me. Most people don’t expect to come across a cow when they’re out for a run.” Luce said, gesturing to her leggings and tank top. She definitely wasn’t dressed in any kind cow wrangling gear. Whatever the fuck that was. Watching as the woman followed after the cow, Luce looked over at the horse that was loitering next to her. It stared at her with large eyes, as though waiting for her to make a move. “What are you looking it?” She asked it. The horse, of course, said nothing. Which made Luce question why she was even still standing around. But, the answer was pretty simple. Brokeback was cute, in a yee-haw kind of way. And the cow was weird. Maybe it had been cursed with above bovine intelligence or something. Who knows?
“She seems real interested in you,” Teresa spoke out, letting out an uneasy laugh, completely self-conscious over the fact that she was having to wrangle her cow up in front of a stranger. Why hadn’t she left? Teresa would have much preferred doing this alone - made a fool of herself when no one was looking, that’s how she liked it. Unfortunately, she would have an audience today. Even if it was just one, it was one too many. People judged, people made assumptions. That was why she preferred animals better. Stopping by her horse for a second, she opened one of the satchels, pulling out some corn leaves and stems and then the rope. Lightly jogging back to the cow that had stopped in front of the strange girl, Teresa waved a hand for her attention. “D’ya think you could help me - all you gotta do is hold the rope wide enough for her to fit her head in while I entice her with some food.” She lifted both to show her, glancing to meet her eyes for just a moment, unable to make eye contact. “Or you can feed her - whatever you feel comfortable doin’. Uh, please?” Already the cow was interested in the stems and leaves more than meeting someone new. Tez had to hide it behind her for a second or else she’d snatch it out of her hand and they’d have nothing to bribe her to come home with.
“Apparently.” Luce nodded, watching as the woman tried and failed to get the cow to come towards her. She didn’t have much knowledge of how things like this worked, but she’d seen a cowboy movie years ago. Shouldn’t this lady be tossing a lasso around the cow? Or was that stereotypical? When she asked for her help, Luce blinked. “You want me to help you?” Did she look like the kind of person who knew what the fuck to do with a big ass animal like this? The biggest animal she’d ever handled was a particularly rambunctious Doberman that belonged to one of her old coworkers. Cows? Not at all. But, the ‘please’ at the end of the request was what got her. Letting out a sigh, she held out a hand. “Give me the rope. I’m not about to give a cow the opportunity to bite my fingers or something.” She said.
Tez was anticipating the no and even winced lightly at the question but once she agreed to it, she handed the rope. “Here,” she said softly and then brought her hand back in front of her as she moved closer to her to try and get the cow to get in the rope. Already the cow was sticking its tongue out, eager for the greens. “That’s a good size.” Teresa let her know, not needing it too wide that she might get out of it before she can tighten it around her neck. She then waved the leaves through the rope, the cow willingly taking the bait. They still had to move gently or else they’d spook her and she could injure both of them but everything seemed to be going fine. Finally, she made contact with the leaves and stems and her snout already passed the line. Just a little bit more now… “ Teresa encouraged it with soft tutting. “There we go.” The cow had its whole head in and she reached for the end of the rope where the other girl was holding. “I got it now, thank you.”
How she wound up holding a loop of rope out for a weird, friendly cow and a quiet cowgirl, Luce would never know. She’d just been out for a run, blowing off steam, hoping to check out some of the college girls. But, here she was. Helping set the most obvious trap in the history of obvious traps. Shaking her head to herself, she watched as the woman began to lure the cow forward, its tongue sticking out eagerly for the greens. At least treats seemed to work on it. As soon as the cow had it’s head in the loop, Luce slid the knot tighter, just enough to keep it from immediately jerking its head out and away. “All yours, don’t need to tell me twice.” She said, handing the rope off immediately. “Where’d you come from, All Brokeback Mountain with your cow and your horse?” She asked, tilting her head back to the horse that was still staring at her.
Teresa took the rope and whistled for the horse who slowly came to her side. The cow finished the treat and only then seemed to have noticed what happened and moved her head. Teresa started to calm her down by rubbing her head. “Bro -” she tugged on the rope as the cow tried to move back. “Brokeback mountain?” She asked, confused by what she meant. Although the rest of the question wasn’t that confusing. “Uh, I came from over--over there.” She motioned to the woods, knowing that was possibly the worst way to respond to that sort of question but she was too thrown off to give anything close to resembling a smart answer. She chose to fill the air with working on tying the cow and the horse together. Now she could be sure the cow wouldn’t try to run off anytime soon. She’d be having to drag the horse with her after all. As if sensing her nerves, the horse brushed against her arm and she reached out to stroke her just above the nose. “I’m Teresa.” She took a beat too long to hold her arm out for a handshake and it came off as graceful as one might expect.
When the reference went right over the woman’s head, Luce shrugged it off. “Don’t worry about it, cowboy.” She said with a wave of her hand. It made sense that she wouldn’t know what she was talking about; how many actual farmers and shit watched a movie about gay cowboys? Whatever. Tightening her ponytail while the woman pointed out to the woods, she let out a slightly mocking laugh. “What, you just popped out of a pine tree with a horse and cow?” She said, hands resting on her hips. As the woman introduced herself, Luce blinked. Teresa? As she put together the quiet breaks into Spanish, the name, and the slightly familiar face-- Huh. Well, wasn’t that something? “No shit?” Ignoring the hand, Luce pointed to herself. “We had chemistry together sophomore year. Pretty sure we got stuck doing some bullshit project for science fair. I’m Luce. Luce Vural?” She said. Damn, that was like… 10 years ago at this point. How times had changed.
All she had to say was chemistry and Teresa finally knew where she recognized her. “Oh, right, I remember.” Not that it was something she wanted to remember. High school wasn’t exactly… her best show of behavior nor was it just her favorite memories to recall. “How-how have you been?” Oh no, now they had to make small talk. Tez only hoped she was able to keep up the conversation without making too much of a fool of herself. She tried to recall what she last heard or saw of Luce. She didn’t really keep much attention on her classmates but she remembered Luce was dating someone, although his name escaped her. “Are you uh, still with um… that guy?” That guy? Wow, clearly Teresa was great with words. Luce has to have remembered what his name was but she didn’t exactly hang out with anyone and when she was expelled she didn’t keep in touch with anyone when she decided to leave town. She internally cringed at how she behaved before coming home. She was a complete brat, completely selfish, concerned about no one but herself. She only hoped that wasn’t the last way Luce remembered her as. Although she couldn’t recall anything negative about their science project. It’s not like they became friends out of it either.
Raising an eyebrow at the lame attempt at small talk, Luce let out a small laugh. “I’ve been good. Grew up. Got a job. Stuck around. Same as you, seems like it.” She said, gesturing to the horse and cow that were now hitched together by the length of rope. At the mention of one of the dudes she dated back in high school, Luce burst into laughter. Fuck, that was funny. She hadn’t thought about that in ages. Sure, she’d dated guys in high school. Mostly just to be certain that she wanted absolutely nothing to do with them. A couple had been nice-- and so repressed-- but most of her boyfriends had been boring. “Oh, fuck no. No, I’m gay as hell. Figured that out like, end of senior year.” She said with a nod. Of course, she hadn’t done anything about it back then. It wasn’t until she’d been working at Ink Inc. for about a year did she loosen up and live a little. “Wouldn’t have pegged you for some kind of cowboy, Teresa. You always seemed more like a brawler.”
Tez wasn’t sure what she had said that got such a positive reaction from Luce and kind of wondered if she was laughing at her, which then made her even more self-conscious. “Oh, uh, that’s good. Good for you.” Teresa didn’t know what to say. Her mothers were gay and she knew she wasn’t straight and that was really where everything stood. Luce didn’t need to know her lack of experience in everything. God, she was almost thirty and she’s never so much as held hands with anyone other than her mothers. She was so pathetic. Teresa laughed her nerves away, shifting her weight onto another leg. “C-cowboy? No, I just work on my family’s farm.” It was embarrassing that Luce recalled her teenage antics, though. She was hardly the reclusive angry girl in high school. She didn’t have time to be selfish. Everything she did was for her family. She was selfish for long enough, it was necessary to grow up. “I don’t fight, uh, like that anymore.” In fact she had no ill feelings toward her ex best friend. It’d all been directed inward instead. She couldn’t lie and say she didn’t fight because she did. This time it wasn’t for selfish reasons. It was in the name of their faith, in hopes that she could keep her mom alive and ideally, better. “D’ya still do art?”
“Mhm, very good for me.” Luce said with a nod, amused by the way the woman seemed to balk at her. Thinking back to the way that Teresa had held herself back in the day, she couldn’t help but grin at how very different things were now. She’d always been quiet, sketching in the margins of her homework, settled in the middle of the class. Not at the front with the smart kids or at the back with the troublemakers-- every class, she was firmly placed in the middle. Just like at home, she was overlooked and overshadowed. She could remember Teresa getting pulled into the school administration office for one outburst or another. She wasn’t much like the bashful cowboy looking motherfucker in front of her. “I see. Farm life suits you.” She said boldly, eyes flicking up and down for a moment before letting out a sigh. “Really? Fair enough, we all have to grow up sometime.” Luce said. Tilting her head, the woman held up one of her arms, displaying the intricate tattoos that covered her skin. “Yeah, yeah I do. Not conventional art, though. I’m one of the artists at Ink Inc.”
Teresa let out an exhale with her laugh, just nodding in agreement. She felt embarrassed about the whole high school thing but then again she was sure everyone was embarrassed by their high school self. “Gotta help the family business, y’know?” If it wasn’t her waking up early to feed cows and chickens, clean the horse stables and the rest of the dirty work, her mother wouldn’t be able to do it herself and she’d end up having to hire people to do it for her and that meant less income for them and also potentially attract strangers on their property and close to her weak mother. Neither of them wanted that so Teresa made the effort to work hard, even when she was exhausted all the time. Tez looked at the tattoos Luce showed her and her brows raised in awe. “Oh, did you - wait you don’t tattoo it yourself, duh - but you did the art for it?” Teresa never got a tattoo and never really thought to but she would admit that some of them looked really cool, like Luce’s. “That’s incredible, Luce. I do remember your art was always interestin’ to look at.”
“Fair enough. Family matters… matter.” Luce said lamely, as they were words she didn’t really feel. She’d never wanted anything to do with the family business of showboating their magic, using it as cheap entertainment. She’d been forced into working at Illusions of Grandeur once and promptly called it quits. Working for the family was never a thing she’d ever wanted, or would ever do now that she had a say in her own life path. “But, I’m sure your moms appreciate it.” She said, recalling that Teresa had two mothers back in high school. Shrugging, Luce pointed to a few of the smaller, faded and crappier tattoos. “I did a few of them on myself. Gotta practice on someone, you know? But I did the designs for my sleeves.” She said. Blinking in surprise at Teresa’s compliments, she nodded. “Thanks.” She hadn’t thought anyone had paid much attention to her stuff in high school outside of the art department. Hearing that Teresa remembered them was… strange.
“Yeah, uh… yeah,” she muttered, rubbing at her cheek, unsure of what to say and instead just sounding like a well-educated individual. Her jaw clenched at her own negative thoughts. “Oh,” Teresa noted as she looked at the tattoos she pointed out. “Must’ve been difficult.” Teresa really hadn’t a clue how tattoos worked, maybe it was easier than she thought to tattoo yourself. “Did you just move back into town?” Was that too personal of a question to ask? “I don’t remember ever seein’ you when I stop by your house.” If she had, she would have recognized her much earlier. “Not that I come by often anyway. Just whenever my mom has something for y’all.” And when she did come by, she made sure it was a quick drop off, last thing she needed was to get stuck in a conversation, like this one. But Luce didn’t seem as awkward as she felt, so it didn’t seem that bad.
Hearing the way Teresa steered the conversation away from the topic of family, Luce took the hint. Pointing to her wrist, she waved a hand, “They weren’t too bad to do. The only reason they were hard is because I was inexperienced. I could probably whip out a really nice tattoo on myself, if I had the space. But,” She slapped her thigh lightly. “That’s what my legs are for.” She joked. At Teresa’s mention of the house, Luce raised an eyebrow. What was she doing around her parent’s place? Deliveries? Hm. Maybe her mother had gotten into supporting local businesses or something. Sounded about right. She could see her mother not so subtly pitching that Teresa and her family come to see some of Bea’s performances or some shit like that. “I’ve been moved out for a while. I have a cabin in the woods, but,” Luce let out a huff, blowing her bangs out of her face, “I’m living with Bea and Nell right now. Helping them out with the house, stuff like that.” She lied smoothly.
Teresa’s eyes dropped to Luce’s legs and then shot back up, feeling it was a bit much. “Do you only have ‘em on your uh, arms?” She asked, hoping her quick look wasn’t obvious but knowing her look it was very obvious. “A cabin? Sounds nice. I uh, left for a while, actually. Stayed in Maine, but did some backpackin’.” Luce sounded mildly irritated about moving back. Maybe Teresa was just confusing it with Luce’s general… attitude. She definitely was as intimidating as she was ten years ago. Not that Luce ever said anything mean to her, but she just had that presence to her. “Can’t escape family, yeah?” Teresa joked with a small grin, eyes falling in thought to her current family situation. She wished her brothers would come back. However, Tez wasn’t sure if she wanted them back because she missed them or just wanted them to shoulder some of the suffering. It wasn’t fair that she was stuck taking all of it while they went off to live happy lives while one of their mothers suffered every day. “It’s good, um, that you’re helpin’ ‘em out. Guess I’ll be seein’ ya around.”
A grin spread across Luce’s face, growing wider as she saw the way Teresa’s eyes flicked over her. “That’s for me to know.” She said with a wink, the unspoken ‘and for you to find out,’ hanging very clearly in the air. “Backpacking, hm? Sounds like a fun time. I’ve never done that before, but it seems nice.” She nodded. Honestly, she’d like nothing more than to be able to go backpacking for a bit and leave White Crest and it’s piles of problems behind her for just a little while. But, that wasn’t in the cards for her. Besides, her work was here. She wasn’t about to leave that. As the woman seemed to shift uncomfortably, Luce’s eyes flicked over to the cow and horse that were waiting patiently in the wings. “I didn’t really do anything, but sure. Yeah, see you around, Tex.” Luce said, her grin widening.
Teresa was sure by her words alone that she had said something she wasn’t supposed to but the smile on her face was saying otherwise. Confused, she just offered a small smile. “Backpacking was nice.” However Teresa still felt guilt that while she enjoyed her time alone, her mothers were struggling. She swore she’d never be that selfish again. Tez turned to the horse, patting her before walking over to saddle up. She caught the nickname but didn’t notice it any different than the usual shortening of her name. Although she was expecting it since it was mostly done by family members. She didn’t mind. Swinging her leg over, she mounted the horse and grabbed hold of the reins. “See ya, Luce.” She lightly lifted her hat and started to head off with her horse. Thankfully, the cow seemed cooperative and was ready to head home. Before they entered the woods, Teresa turned to get another glance at Luce and then continued heading home.
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what are things that people misconcept about hunting? what facts out there are true and which are bogus?
Oh boy, this is gonna be a long one XD
Ok, so let’s start with the biggest, most insufferable myth I have personally had to deal with:
Myth: All hunters are blood-thirsty animal murderers who take delight in killing poor innocent animals and all of them are awful people.
No.
Just . . .
Just no.
(I’m only slightly bitter, can’t you tell)
People who perpetuate this myth are the type of people who get all their knowledge about hunting from watching Bambi and from reading news articles about awful hunters (because you will never find a news article about all the good hunters out there, trust me) And it’s just not true. While, yes, at the heart of the matter, hunting is killing an animal, but people don’t hunt because we like killing things. It’s actually a very sober, solemn moment when you take an animal’s life, and I even get a little bit choked up about it.
It’s a deeply personal matter. It’s about the challenge, it’s about getting out there in nature and appreciating it. It’s difficult for me to put into words, but hunters love animals, and we love nature, and hunting is how we preserve nature and foster healthy animal populations. And this makes sense if you’ve taken a science class beyond second grade. Population control is crucial for healthy animals. And hunting is essential for conservation.
Want to know some rough numbers? Check out the numbers here. Hunters give a lot of money towards conservation. $796 million towards license and fees, $440 million through donations, $8 billion through taxes, $1.6 billion for conservation programs. It’s huge! And hunters would not be spending this much money if they weren’t just as passionate and serious as I am. Many hunters have a strong code of ethics and morals and will do everything they can to ensure they harvest an animal in the most humane way possible. I’ve known people who pass on monster bucks because they couldn’t make the clean shot. I know people who refuse to shoot yearlings. I know people who missed out on entire seasons because their form wasn’t up to spec and they physically couldn’t shoot a bow.
Hunters are not monsters. Hunters are the most devoted conservationists you will ever meet. They do so much for wildlife that it’s hard to overstate.
Ok, with that rant out of the way, let’s move on to some myths that are more focused on hunting in general.
(I had to look up some common myths because I legitimately don’t know that many XD)
Myth: The draw weight of your bow is the most important factor in shooting.
I don’t think any serious archery hunter believes this, but I know some people put more emphasis on their draw weight than they should. Recommended minimum is 40 lbs, but some people will try to max out their draw weight right as the season starts. You should never do this. Shoot at a draw weight you are comfortable at. If you need to dial it down, then dial it down, and then work yourself up to it. Accuracy should be above all else. It doesn’t matter if you’re pulling 100 lbs, it doesn’t matter how sharp or big your broadheads are. If you can’t hit the deer in the vitals, you’re not going to harvest your deer. And even if it does die, it will die slowly, which no one wants.
The Dry Doe Myth (AKA you should shoot older does because they’re not producing fawns any more)
Does will carry fawns as long as they physically can, and if a doe does not produce fawns, that means she’s dying. Deer in captivity can live upwards of 20 years, and those old does will have twins and triplets every year until their dying days. To put it into perspective, a wild deer is considered at peak maturity at four years old. If you see a “dry” doe, that probably means she lost her fawn very early in the year, or maybe she just didn’t have a fawn that year. That does not mean she won’t have any more in the future. Additionally, older does make better mothers.
Myth: Bucks will bed (aka rest/sleep) downwind of does and fawns.
This one isn’t realistic and doesn’t make sense. This myth means bedding areas are always moving according to the wind direction, and that just doesn’t happen. But what is more likely to be true is if you have a steady food source, like a field, there will be a doe bedding area 50-100 yards away, and bucks will bed a little ways behind them.
Myth: Scent control is your key to a successful hunt.
Well, this is slightly embarrassing because just two posts ago I was talking about all the different scent killers you can use to help eliminate your scent. Turns out they’re just placebos and do jack diddly shit.
Go figure.
But I was right about one thing! You have to always make sure you’re downwind of your deer. Walking in will not leave a trail if you’re careful, and as long as you don’t use any strongly scented soaps or shampoos, the deer won’t smell you if you stay mindful of the wind. Just this evening I picked a perfect spot with my back up against a river, ensuring that the deer will always be in front of me and the wind will be a non-factor. The biggest thing that can give away your scent is, surprisingly, your breath. So try to breathe through your nose as much as possible, or even better, wear a face cover over your mouth and nose to help catch the scent of your breath.
Myth: Don’t pee in the woods, the smell will spook the deer.
Uh, an odd one for sure, but let me remind you, hunters are in the woods from before sunrise til after the sun sets. Sometimes you just gotta go XD
A lot of hunters worry about the strong smell of their urine scaring away deer. But the strong ammonia scent in your urine will evaporate/disperse after a few minutes. So as long as you’re not peeing all over the place, finding a nice little spot away from the trails, you’re fine.
--
But I think I’ve rambled long enough. Hope you found this informative!
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A Bunch of Punks: Kiddo, Killer, Shanky and Edge Lord Edition
(first of all, sorry for my english, i come from germany) I reeeally love your blog! I spend hours in the night to read your posts. May I ask for headcanons with Kid, Killer, Shanks and maybe Law with a rebellious daughter? (Piercings, coloured hair, a little punk) Thank you :)
Warning: as always, a lil bit too long in the Kiddo section and just to add, they are all punks so¯\_(ツ)_/¯
The Ultimate Edge Lord
☠ as long as she applies all of the sanitary requirements that Traffy is sure to mention on a daily basis, he actually doesn’t mind at all
☠ “How did you manage to get this one infected? Again?”
☠ besides that, he’d never accept if she put herself in danger to simply show off - he’s sure to teach her to think before acting, plan ahead and lay low, at least until she becomes powerful enough to take care of herself
☠ provided she’d want to get some tattoos, Traffy enjoys being able to keep her company during the sessions, even if he finds it turbo cheesy - somehow, it makes him feel closer to her than ever
☠ or when she asks him for advice regarding piercing/tattoo care, healing, or just a simple hint on a new hair color, it gives him the feeling of doing something right; and the sheer fact that she trusts him and his judgement is the best thing in the world
☠ naturally, it’s all in Traffy’s mind; he’d have some problems in turning it all into words, but with her help, they’d soon find common ground
☠ “So how did you get these tattoos, dad?”
The Devil Punk
☠ “You’ve got daddy’s fashion sense. Nice.”
☠ just so proud
☠ would totally share hair dyes, nail polish, jewelry, hairsprays, sanitizers, eyeliners and so on - although Kiddo could get extremely protective of his favorite cosmetics sometimes
☠ despite the fact that she gained most of her knowledge on makeup/beauty products from daddy, Kiddo can also learn quite a few things himself - after all, he gotta keep it fresh; maybe a new shade of lipstick? Another nail polish? Fancy earring?
☠ “So where did you get that one?”
☠ the hard to swallow thing would definitely be her rebellious behavior which pisses The Red Devil off to no ends; even though he’s more than glad she knows how to speak her mind and is no coward in standing up for herself, if it means standing up to him - then it gets good
☠ their crewmates could easily start bringing popcorn to the routine fights those two carry out on a daily basis, over everything and nothing in particular, shouting profanities and trying to come up with a better insult than the other one
☠ “Apparently, it runs in the family.”
☠ putting that aside, their shared, angry Kiddo-Gene would surely allow them to find basic activities they’d both enjoy - such as massacrating the World Government; whether with sophisticated words or voodoo dolls, it doesn’t matter, as long as they manage to let out some fury from their systems
☠ nonetheless, for Kiddo, his daughter is his lil shit no matter what she wears or how she looks, but in this case, he wouldn’t be able to stop himself from smirking proudly whenever he sees her rocking those punky vibes
☠ it could become just another factor which brings those two closer together and fuels their relationship even more, letting them bond over shared interests - and, of course, Kiddo’s crew also puffs their chests out in pride, seeing how their little girl has grown
☠ “We’ve raised her right, dudes.”
Killer-kun
☠ much like Kiddo in this matter - he loves that she’s got this punky side going on, although would be pretty worried that she’s gonna start seeing his captain as her role model
☠ “No, no. Kid - bad. Reason - good.”
☠ always reminds her about rationality; she doesn’t have to show off or prove anything to anyone, since Killer simply can’t imagine how a person could think his daughter isn’t perfect - she totally is to him, in every aspect and in every way
☠ “When someone insults you, remember what daddy always says. If you can easily get away with it, kill them. If not, come to me or uncle Kid for help.”
☠ he’s the one to assist in the hair dying sessions whenever she feels like changing her hair color, and he’d get quite good at it after a while if he isn’t already, cause someone had to help Kiddo the first couple of times, ain’t that right
Shankyy
☠ would he try to act as if he shares her interests? Would he pretend that he’s an expert in those fields? Well, would he?
☠ “I know all about this stuff.”
☠ he’s the cool dad, that’s for sure, and how his daughter dresses or looks wouldn’t occupy his mind for too long - it’s more her behavior that he worries about
☠ Shanky wouldn’t ever want her to become too confident because her dad is the most badass bitch in the New World and no one messes with his crew; sometime in the future, she might find herself facing the enemy alone and there’ll be no room for recklessness or showing off then
☠ so provided she was ever to disobey him just for the sake of disobeying the orders, Shanky doesn’t hesitate - he challenges her to a duel, and whoever wins gains the upper hand
☠ since it’s not too hard to predict the winner, usually it all ends with the crew’s loud cheering and making fun of her for getting beaten again, as well as a long lecture from the captain himself on safety, rationality and maturity - which ends with everyone dozing off after few minutes
#trafalgar law#eustass kid#one piece#xoxobb#shanks#killer#op headcanons#eustass kid imagines#eustass kid imagine#trafalgar law imagine#trafalgar law imagines#shanks imagines#killer imagines#op imagines#one piece imagines#one piece headcanons
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Farmer's Market Chapter 4
Oh, if only we could have seen the outcome of that question. How the room exploded into a heated argument. How 7 people shouting in unison sounded. God, they sure did know the farmer.
-Well, that was unexpected, whispered Toby.
-And uncalled for, sighed Monday before erupting in a shrill scream herself. Everybody SILENCE! her voice pierced the air, sharp as a shard of glass.
And it worked wonders! The benefit of being quiet most of the time.
-We need answers, and we need them quick, she explained. So? Anyone got something about him?
-I have an old photograph, with some numbers written on the back. His wife gave it to me when I was still alive and made me promise to keep it safe, I'll fetch it for you, offered Pica raising from her seat.
-And I have what looks like half a date, or an adress, from his son. But it might not be important. I think I'll just go back in my room, sighed Griffin.
-No. Either stay here if you can remember it, or go to your room to bring a paper, and come back afterwards, stated Salvador firmly.
-Fine, came back the huff. It's 13th, M. I'd be lying if I said I know what the M stands for, though. It might be a name too, or mayb-
Monday collapsed to the floor. Oh no. A vial of something bitter, with something to do with almonds. The hard feeling of bathroom tiles against the back of a head. A bitter friend, who she stopped calling a friend a long time ago. Recreational glass blowing, lost meals. And back again she was conscious on the rug of a living room.
-My corpse! was all she could gasp. Where is my corpse?
-Everybody stay back, ordered Toby. She's still getting flashbacks, she's disoriented.
Most nodded in understanding.
It took Monday about 10 seconds to get back on her feet as Toby helped her to the couch. Meanwhile, Pica came back. She held a photograph in her hands, of the farmer's wife in a field, and behind her...
-That's me, Monday remarked. Or, was, I think?
A glass statue just like her, but in one pice. And, on the back, a series of numbers.
Monday spoke again, and seemed uncharacteristically lucid:
-These are coordinates.
In 2 minutes the Lady had the numbers in the search bar of her phone. The location belonged to a house on a boulevard 15 minutes away.
-Could you show me the address? asked Salvador. Something seems familiar. Oh! he laughed. It's of a guy I know, Phillip Guthrie. I think he's hosting some kind of party tonight, at 10pm. He invited me but God am I lazy, I didn't even think about going!
-Could you bring one of us in? asked Toby.
Salvador threw his head back, roaring with laughter.
-One? This guy's so uncaring about who we bring over, I might as well come with all of you!
-I'd say that you should get Toby and Monday, and Griffin to come with you, piped up Adalana. Griffin has half an adress, maybe it'll come in handy.
-I don't want to go, chimed in a soft voice from the couch. Bring the Lady, I feel sick.
-I don't want to either, responded Griffin. I hate parties.
Salvador sighed and then smiled softly.
-Monday's excused. She fainted here, she might faint there. You mister, on the other hand, he chuckled as he leaned over the back of the armchair and grabbed Griffin by the shoulders, you gotta come with us. You barely go outside, you look like you're anemic!
-I don't look like anything, I'm invisible, you moron!
-We've seen you before though, shrugged the Lady. Pale as a wall.
-I am ALBINO! Literally what the-
-Oh relax, I'm just messing with you. What, like I don't look like a faux leather purse? she laughed, and Griffin snorted.
-So, we're set? Me, Toby, Adalana and Grif?
Salvador rubbed his hands together, but in a split second the grin was gone from his face.
-Do we all here know how to fire a gun?
-I don't, admitted Toby. Don't know why would I need to, though.
-My friends are not very safe people, the other simply shrugged.
-Toby doesn't need a gun, grinned the Lady. He seems to prefer close combat.
She winked. The real meaning behind her words, however, Salvador would only find out a few hours later. He didn't notice a good chunk of the other people in the room just left some time earlier, but even if he did he wouldn't have cared.
-Very well then. Let's get dressed. It's- he checked his watch -7pm! By 9 I need you all here.
Toby felt disoriented. He didn't have a "good" suit, fact which Lady Alligator picked up on quite fast.
-Do you plan on going out in that jacket of indiscernible color?
-'s the only jacket I have.
-I think I have an old suit at my house. I already have to drop by to grab some things, tag along. It's too small for me, and you look, what? 5'8? It might be good for you.
In the 75 minutes it took them to come back you could hear the house filling with noise, with everyone upstairs making a ruckus. Uncalled for, unneeded fashion tips coming from people whose knowledge came from different cultures and periods of time could be interesting sometimes, but not when arguments sparked up. As Griffin passed Toby in the hallway you could hear him muttering to himself about a "shitshow" and "lunatics".
Salvador, on the other hand, had the common sense of locking his door and only unlocking it when he absolutely needed to get out. Which was, noticeably, when he needed to take his head out of its jar and wash it thoroughly, accompanied by Marlene calling him "disgusting" and Maisie saying he's "uncultured". It didn't stop him though, and as Maisie pulled out some rubber gloves and bleach to clean the sink you could hear him and Pygmalion yelling at eachother across the house as they tried to remember who last used and where did they leave the hairdryer. A back and forth lasting about 5 minutes until Marlene had the courtesy to bring him the dryer, after which he promptly returned to his room and began dressing up while listening to a record he selected at random from his stash of disks.
The doors of the mansion were slammed open by Lady Alligator, in a strapless red dress, an even bigger hat that the previous one, and red lipstick slapped on. Followed by dear Toby, who felt a bit like a cat who got caught in the rain for some reason. The suit was just fine, albeit a bit too big. He still kept his old boots and his straw hat.
Griffin knocked on the door to Salvador's room, ignoring how improbable it was that the other heard him through all the noise. He opened the door just a little bit and saw the other one with his back turned loudly arguing on the phone, his words mixing with the music in the background. "Una mattina…" You have to admit that, if you're a certain kind of person, studying physics seems more important than learning a second language. And so, Salvador's argument sounded like gibberish. Pleasant, smooth, fluent gibberish is still gibberish.
-My God! "Stammi lontano"! Che cosa, è pazzo? Ridiculous, impossibile! Phillip sarà morto!
Salvador seemed to talk more with his hands than with his mouth, as he had the phone prepped up to his ear with his shoulder, and was gesturing wildly. He turned around and only came to a halt when he saw Griffin in the doorway.
-Sono occupato. Ciao.
He leisurely threw the phone on the bed and smiled back to the other man.
-Who were you talking to? I don't think I've seen you this angry. Must've been a real moron.
-Just a friend of Phillip's, I wasn't angry. By the way, don't you wanna get visible 'till we go there?
Griffin smiled.
-You're changing the subject, and lying real nicely. A friend? Now, I don't speak much Spanish but-
-That's Italian. I'm Italian.
-Whatever. I can still sense that the name of the guy we'll visit and "morto" in the same sentence aren't good news and- Shit! You said you're Italian? Why didn't I know this? And you have no accent whatsoever!
-"Where I came from" just never came up! And thanks, I practiced killing my accent daily when I was a teenager, he said dryly. You're not gonna hear it 'till I get drunk or tired. Which, by the way this night is going, I'll probably do before midnight. You should go and do the physics thing you do with the particles to get visible and then brush your hair, he spoke as he guided Griffin to the door, 'cause Toby and Adalana might be ready. Also, I think I'll have to arrive at the party half an hour earlier than you guys, sorry.
-Why is that?
-Might have an assassination to prevent, he simply said as he closed and locked the door behind Griffin, who didn't even have time to register what happened. And as the door locked and the music got louder, he had a feeling that from that moment everything was going to get more complicated.
#farmers market#salvador vince#griffin#lady alligator#mees monday#terrible toby#excerpts from my writing#my writing#writers#writer#writing#excerpt from a story i'll never write#writeaway#excerpt from a book i'll never write#writblr#chapter 4
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Doing Math on the River Styx - 2
[Read Ch. 1 Here]
Phic Phight / Team Ghost / word count not final
Prompt by Zainymusings:
In an effort to keep Danny from failing out of Casper High and becoming Dan, the ghosts band together to tutor Danny in various subjects (Technus in math, Ghostwriter in Language Arts, etc.) Shenanigans ensue.
Chapter Index: 1 / 2
Danny had taken two painkillers before he’d gone home that night.
The headache. God, the headache. He’d always sort of known ghosts must be talented in their respective fields of obsession, but he’d never really witnessed it first-hand because he was usually too busy being attacked by them. Technus knew what he was talking about, he just had no ability to pass that knowledge on to anyone but himself. Ghostwriter clearly knew how to teach, but his advice was so backwards compared to common knowledge that Danny scarcely believed half of it.
And then there’d been the drills. The drills. Ghostwriter had been attempting to teach Danny how to write essays while teaching Technus how to actually teach, and so, in the middle of giving weird left-of-field helpful tips, had been constantly breaking face to yell at Technus. Don’t say it that way, he had impressed. Don’t present information without context. Don’t assume knowledge is inherently there when it isn’t. Don’t you dare touch that book Nicolai, or I’ll—!
Technus was like a child. A savant child. With bonus bad behaviour and a clear problem with indignation. Mathematical intelligence from here til Christmas, but God, at what cost?
And then there was Ghostwriter. His problems were centered around never knowing when to stop — Danny was more than just beat, he was exhausted. It was three in the morning when he’d hauled himself back through the Fenton Portal, and four before he managed to calm down enough to get some sleep. The Friday morning sunlight had come in not long after that, and then it was time to get up and do it all over again.
Danny dragged himself through school. Lancer probably thought he’d been playing Doomed all night. Must’ve looked it. Somehow he managed an answer about Orwell when called upon, but it was just as likely he’d hallucinated the whole thing.
… At least the ghosts left him alone, that day.
When the day was done and he’d managed to drag himself home, he was greeted not by his mother, father, sister, or the newest Fenton death machine designed specifically to peel the skin off his ghost half like a particularly unfortunate orange — it was Clockwork.
“Having a long day, aren’t we?” the old time ghost grinned from inside Danny’s room’s doorway. He leaned casually against the frame. “I see you’re working hard.”
“No thanks to you,” said Danny, throwing his schoolbag on top of his bed and quickly closing the bedroom door behind him. Clockwork phased through it. “Are you joking? Why the heck did it have to be Technus and Ghostwriter? Surely there’s gotta be other ghosts that can do it!”
Time was stopped. It had to have been. There was suddenly a time medallion around Danny’s neck, after all. Clockwork’s form changed to his youngest incarnation, moving now to lean upon his staff instead. “I was under the impression you were doing quite well. You even answered that Orwellian question in English class today. I thought it was quite articulate.”
“You were watching — was that a pun?”
“I’m always watching,” said Clockwork calmly, smugly. Danny wasn’t sure whether to shudder or just get angry instead. “And as for whether or not that was a pun, I’m sure by now you know the answer. You’ve seen some benefit from these lessons already and you’ve only attended one of them.”
Fine. Danny didn’t want to agree, but the English lesson had at least gone kind of well, as much as it had also destroyed him. But then there was the sticking point: “What about math?” Danny demanded, his hand gesturing wildly as if to prove his point. “Technus is crazy! He just gives me problems and expects me to know the answers! He doesn’t know how to teach at all!”
“Oh, I’m sure something will come of it.”
Danny hated the way Clockwork smiled knowingly like that, all the damn time. He knew exactly what he was doing and exactly what was going to happen, it’s just that Danny couldn’t see any possible avenue to ever learn from Technus, regardless of the Ghostwriter’s best efforts to reform him. It was like trying to thread a six metre wide steel cube through the eye of a sewing needle — you had to be stupid to even try.
… Stupid or desperate, anyway.
Clockwork seemed to sense the tension. Scratch that — he probably knew about the tension six decades ago. “I wouldn’t put you in a situation like this unless it was absolutely necessary, Danny,” he said, slowly morphing into his more familiar adult form. “You can at least trust me in that.”
He didn’t feel that way, but it didn’t matter. “Yeah, yeah,” he said, brushing Clockwork off all the same. “So what about the other subjects, anyway? The math and English tests are next week, but the week after that I’ve got, like, science and home economics and history. Who on heck’s going to teach those?”
Clockwork raised one of his eyebrows, which disappeared beneath his hood. “I thought you were doing rather well in home economics,” he suggested, “But if you’re feeling as if it’s a struggle, I could always request the services of the Lunch—”
“—I’m fine,” said Danny, quickly. “Just science and history. God, just science and history please.”
Clockwork nodded. “Well, you might be surprised, but Spectra—”
“Spectra?!” Danny spat.
“—You have objections?” asked Clockwork.
“Oh come on!” said Danny. “You know everything, don’t you? You know what she did to me! She even tried to kill Jazz! She’s — she’s like, the most messed up of any of those ghosts!”
Clockwork sighed and tapped each of his ten fingers in sequence around his staff. “I do. It’s just regrettable that in this timestream she is — unbelievably — one of the best people to teach you science. I give you my guarantee she won’t bring you or your loved ones to harm, however.”
Danny steamed slightly. Of course Clockwork wouldn’t lie to him, but the situation was still about as palatable as a pint of motor oil poured on slice of bread, and the small half-ghost wasn’t going to give it a rest until he was very sure his conversation partner knew that.
“You might at least like my final suggestion somewhat more,” Clockwork added. The grin was no longer unpleasant, just a calming smile, and Danny almost disliked how at ease this put him. “As far as history’s concerned, I’ll be happy to teach you that myself.”
It was as if Danny’s brain had jammed in gear, squeaked, and then fallen off the side of a mountain. “You’re going to teach me history?”
“Yes.”
“Do you even have time for that?” Danny sputtered. “I mean, like—”
It was finally time for Clockwork to cut him off. “I am the Master of Time, Danny, as you put it — there is always time.”
“But—“
“However, the time for our little conversation is almost up,” Clockwork continued, effectively silencing him, and completely ignoring the little logical plot hole he’d just created. “For now, just do your best with Technus and Ghostwriter. I’m sure it’ll be better than you expect.” He paused simply to hold up his staff, and that’s when Danny knew this was the end of it. “You have my word.”
Clockwork disappeared from existence. Moments later, the time medallion around Danny’s neck vanished too.
… There were five possible hours of sleep before his next lesson. He decided to catch them.
Chapter Index: 1 / 2
#Danny Phantom#Phic Phight#fanfiction#ghostwriter#technus#I can't stop writing this#it's weirdly addictive
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let’s fix Do No Harm
a.k.a. Do No Harm if it were actually a show I would watch, requested by @thisstableground in the meme thingy I was doing
This was something swan and I came up with because I, as a biology-person in Philadelphia, where DNH is “set,” was outraged and perplexed by whatever the fuck the working environment/ general structure of the hospital/ the fact that the writers gave zero shits about medical or scientific accuracy/ have never seen a lab/ have in fact probably never talked to a scientist/ have zero idea about actual psychiatric conditions.
So this turned into my crack conspiracy theory that the whole Jason/Ian multiple personality angle of the show is in fact a plot by Big Pharma steal Dr. Ruben Marcado’s research.
Excerpt, somewhat de-chatficced (written by both swan and me) and condensed for sanity reasons:
this whole thing is a conspiracy to steal Ruben's research
he's a chemist who doesn't know medicine for shit, so he falls for the whole ridiculous Jason/ Ian thing easily
the man INVENTED TWO NOVEL NEUROACTIVE DRUGS IN FIVE YEARS
he is a one-man billion dollar pharmaceutical company
for context most drug companies have stopped doing neuro research at ALL because it is so shitty
okay so. ruben is a goddamn motherfucking einstein-level field-revolutionizing SAVANT
who for some reason doesn't seem to recognize this.
but he's a lonely guy. clearly, because he lets jason get away with treating him like shit all the time. and for some reason Pharma can't go their normal route of hiring him to be on their staff.
unclear why, because he's trying to sell one of his drugs to a pharmaceutical company in the show and they're only offering him a million dollars, which is insultingly low. but anyway. ruben's not selling his drugs.
maybe he tried marketing one early on and people had adverse reactions and it was Very Bad
so now he sticks to the basic science side. he just uses his drugs as tools in the lab. yeah they have medical applications but he's so scared of hurting someone, hence "do no harm" eh?
so along comes this drug company. they're read his papers. they desperately want their hands on his formulas but he's not selling. they try hacking his computer but all his most important notes are pen and paper, physically locked in the lab, and security in this building is mega-tight because it's a children's hospital
so they have to come up with another way. they've got to give ruben a reason to go forward with these potent antipsychotics he's testing. they have to motivate him to try them in human patients. they've got to make this PERSONAL
so they find a burned out med student. a guy who's failed his boards, who is hundreds of thousands of dollars in debt, who's desperate for money, and who, incidentally, has a background in theater. remember, ruben's not a trained doctor. he knows organic synthesis and neuropharmacology
[at this point swan asked to recast Jason/Ian as someone whose face she could stand to think about, and we decided Riz Ahmed. But then after the conversation we decided to gender flip the whole thing, and long story short we decided that Jason/ Ian is now played by Amal Clooney even though she doesn’t act and Ruben is played by Gina Rodriguez. But for right now it’s Riz and Lin.]
the guy comes to him with this sob story about how he NEEDS this drug. he would be such a good surgeon, he would save SO MANY LIVES, if he could just have it!
okay so this guy's job is to get samples of the drug at all costs
and if he doesn't the debt collectors are gonna come break his legs
so it's not really *his* fault so much
but first he befriends ruben
they bond over people always mixing them up
and ruben is so lonely. like, he works all the time and he stays away from all the docs because they Know His Failure and he still lives with his mom
so having somebody come in with a lot of common interests and no prior knowledge of how bad he fucked up (in his mind) is huge for him
the common interests are a nice coincidence, of course, but not so much of a coincidence when you remember they hacked his computer
and gradually the friend opens up about the problems he's been having
heck, maybe he just fakes a “transformation” into his “evil alter ego” right in front of Ruben, really freaks him out
either way, it becomes clear that his situation is desperate, and only ruben can help
and from then on the guy is just trying to extract more and more sample of the drug from ruben without raising his suspicions that he's from Big Pharma
and i think that it actually would make sense plot-wise if Jason seduces Ruben in this
he's got to keep raising the stakes
because that makes it so much harder for Ruben to say no if it's his BOYFRIEND who needs help!
he's gotta keep Ruben Invested!
basically in the show it's already an abusive relationship so this is just taking it to an abusive partnership
but what Jason DIDN'T count on......was developing feelings of his own
it's bad
:(
he's making increasingly desperate excuses to his bosses
because he can't bear to keep tormenting Ruben like this
playing on his feelings
physically threatening him while pretending to be a split version of his personality!
Ruben always tearful and apologizing because he's not working fast enough and he's so sorry
maybe the debt collectors come by to threaten him and Ruben is there or finds out
and he has to make up some story about his split personality spending all his money
Ruben offers him help
hmm... at what point does Jason snap and tell Ruben everything so they can take on the pharma company together?
hopefully soon, for the sake of poor Ruben's peace of mind, and my own
again, i know NOTHING about the show except the basic premise and Ruben
i mean, naturally, after the truth comes out, they'd have to have an episode or two devoted to the break between 'em
get that angst, you know
but Ruben comes back to Jason, because he has to get back at these people who were USING him, and Jason is his only in
Ruben working even longer ridiculous marathon days because when he's hallucinating about being in lab from lack of sleep (while he's still in lab), at least he's not thinking of Jason and how he played him like a fiddle
maybe Big Pharma tries to break in again?
maybe they try another way to push him, and Jason has to save him?
their relationship is strictly business going forward, says Ruben. i can't trust you like that. we're clearing this up and then we're done for good
Right, yeah, obviously, i hurt you, says Jason
like, after Jason delivers his report that he can't do it, and is about to go on the run from the debt collectors, he realizes they're going to come after Ruben the hard way next
This is a working vengeance-based relationship (false)
so when he goes in to save him it's pure emotion, but he *says* all the vengeance stuff to get Ruben on board
he's still a really good liar, after all this
but he swears to himself that's the last time he's going to lie to him
after this he'll leave him alone, but he just has to know he's safe
it's his fault the pharma company is so hungry for Ruben's formulas
they didn't even KNOW about the second drug til Jason told them
presumably somewhere in here, there's a reference to "lying's the only thing i've ever REALLY been good at." [rueful smile]
and Jason has to be the ONLY one who can find him he just needs [x giant pile of resources]
basically, a new passport, a pile of cash, plane tickets to Jamaica
a way to a new life
and after it's done he gives them to Ruben
people always did mix them up!
although lbr Ruben might not be down for an extended tropical vacation
but maybe he NEEDS one, yanno?
and if his lab got trashed in some incident i'm sure he's absolutely furious about, he's got no reasons to stay in Philly while it’s being prepared
i love this. like there's your running gag throughout the first and into the second act of people mixing Ruben and Jason up
but then it becomes PLOT-RELEVANT!!!
...and that’s all I got the end!
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Luke Cage Countdown: 6 Days
Misty Knight, Armed and Dangerous
At long last, MCU Misty Knight is getting her sweet bionic arm! This is essentially her origin story, and as such, it will have huge consequences for her life moving forward. Here’s a brief look at her disarming, recovery, and powers in the comics.
As in the show, in the comics Misty Knight starts her career as a promising young cop, top of her class at police academy, ready to change the world. She serves on the NYPD for six years... until the unthinkable happens.
Caption: “Memories... years gone now, yet still terribly fresh, clear... Patrolwoman Misty Knight, twelfth precinct, NYPD, working the day shift.”
Bystander: “My god-- that man-- he’s thrown a bomb!”
Caption: “Reaction. Fast... instinctive. Futile.”
Iron Fist vol. 1 #6 by Chris Claremont, John Byrne, and Karen Mantlo
Misty is unable to dispose of the bomb in time, and her right arm is caught in the ensuing explosion. Her partner, Rafael Scarfe, manages to keep her alive until paramedics arrive, but she wakes up in the hospital irrevocably changed.
Misty: “Damn you, Colleen-- I’m half-a-woman now, a freak!”
Deadly Hands of Kung Fu vol. 1 #33 by Chris Claremont and Marshall Rogers
Misty is shattered by the loss of her arm. She sinks into a deep depression, feeling like she is now weak and worthless. Her best friend Colleen attempts to bolster her spirits and help her regain her self-confidence, both through encouragement and some well-intentioned butt-kicking, but Misty remains convinced that she’s damaged goods and no use to anyone. This attitude, along with the painful memories of her accident, haunts her for years afterward. The violence in her life often plunges her back into that moment of pain and loss, and she harbors a sense of anger and loathing about everything surrounding the event and anything that reminds her of it-- including her own perceived deficiencies.
“Misty Knight, first in her class at the academy, B.A. in criminology at John Jay... holder of the NYPD Medal of Honor... twice wounded in the line of duty... and forcibly retired after six years service. After all, what good is a one-armed lady cop?”
Iron Fist vol. 1 #7 by Chris Claremont, John Byrne, and Bonnie W.
Much later, when Misty's arm is damaged again, she reacts in much the same way, showing that on a subconscious level, she’s still recovering.
Colleen: “You’ve crawled up inside your head... again. Focus your anger on something positive.”
Misty: “Colleen, save the zen master speech. Seriously. I don’t want to hear it.”
Colleen: “Your father wouldn’t understand why you’re not a cop anymore. [...] You could go back to the force right now and they’d be happy to have you, but the problem isn’t in your arm, it’s in your head.”
Daughters of the Dragon #4 by Justin Gray, Jimmy Palmiotti, Khari Evans, and Christina Strain
Misty leaves her police career behind, and starts a slow healing process, largely facilitated by the creation of (K)Nightwing Restorations, a freelance detective agency she co-runs with Colleen. This new career gives her a chance to prove to the world, and more importantly, to herself, that she is still capable of working and making a difference.
In addition, though it serves as a daily reminder of what she has lost, Misty’s life is also improved by her brand-new super-awesome robot arm!
“The girl had said Misty’s arm had exploded. Well, why not? Why shouldn’t a robot arm explode when it’s riven with nuclear fireblasts? Because that’s what it is-- a robot arm. On a human woman.”
Iron Fist vol. 1 #3 by Chris Claremont, John Byrne, and Don Warfield
In the comics, by the time we meet Misty she has already had her arm for several years, so we miss out on the details of its initial installment. But we know that it is Stark technology, and thus state-of-the art for its time. It is super durable, operates with all the ease of a real arm, and it grants Misty a degree of super-strength only limited by basic physics. Since the rest of her is squishy and human, she can push, pull, and smash with her arm, but it doesn’t allow her to lift extra heavy things, or do anything that would put tension on other parts of her body.
Misty: “Blast! I’m overshootin’ the wall. Gotta grab this stanchion as I go by-- use my bionic arm to stop me-- an’ hope the non-bionic rest o’ me can take the strain.”
Power Man #49 by Chris Claremont, John Byrne, F. Mouly, et al.
However, over the years her arm has been upgraded to be more than just extra muscle.
Tony: “This arm is a superior design. I should have called Misty for an upgrade sooner, but I’ve been busy. The exterior is diamond interlaced with Vibranium. It is harder, lighter and stronger. I’ve had them install a pain dampener so if something like this happens again her nervous system won’t be harmed.”
Daughters of the Dragon #4 by Justin Gray, Jimmy Palmiotti, Khari Evans, and Christina Strain
These days, it can do such fancy things as generate magnetic fields and energy blasts, and interface-- both physically and at a distance-- with computers. It operates as essentially a Swiss Army arm, making Misty an even more formidable crime-fighter than she already was.
Misty: “These originals were mechanized, a mix of Stark tech and counterfeit crap. Plenty of brawn. But no common sense, apparently. Fine. I’d just have to do the thinking for them. [...] I had Stark tech of my own. Made me very persuasive to A.I.”
Black Panther and the Crew (2017) #1 by Ta-Nehisi Coates, Butch Guice, and Dan Brown
Plus, of course, it looks awesome. Initially, likely due to her insecurities, Misty had a flesh-colored coating over the arm, disguising its true nature. But nowadays, she usually keeps the metal exposed-- probably for a variety of reasons: It’s common knowledge among the superhero and supervillain communities that she has a bionic arm, so hiding it would be pointless, it looks cooler this way, and her attitude toward it has changed. The arm is a part of her now, and she is no longer ashamed of it.
99.9% of the time, Misty’s arm is presented as a permanent fixture. It is attached to her body the way a biological arm would be, when it is damaged she experiences pain, and it presents serious problems when it... say... gets caught on giant electromagnets.
Misty: “It’s no use! That magnet is stronger than I am. The only way I’ll get free is by pulling my own arm off.”
Power Man and Iron Fist vol. 1 #66 by Mary Jo Duffy, Kerry Gammill, and Glynis Wein
However, the remaining 0.1% is Jeremy Whitley’s approach in his Secret Wars: Secret Love story. Here, the arm is presented more like a typical prosthesis, and is removable. In the final scene, we see Misty relaxing with her arm off-- which seems way more comfortable than the alternative.
Secret Wars: Secret Love, “Misty and Danny Forever” by Jeremy Whitley and Gurihiru
Since this interpretation is in the minority, and directly opposes the way her arm is presented everywhere else, it likely will not stick. However, there is something appealing about it. Misty is a disabled character, and her bionic arm tends to feel like a quick fix-- a super cool quick fix, of course, but there are a lot of comics where, in terms of both art and writing, it’s easy to forget that she’s even an amputee. “Misty and Danny Forever” does a great job of spending what little time it has on exploring Misty’s life experience as a disabled person. It doesn’t rehash her trauma and self-loathing from the earlier comics-- she has largely healed from that, as is natural-- but it does bring up little day-to-day inconveniences that most Misty comics don’t address.
Misty: “It looked so beautiful in the store.”
Colleen: “It is beautiful.”
Misty: “I know. It’s me. It’s the arm. It slides right off the metal. [...] Colleen, I can’t do this.”
Whitley discusses his reasons for this change in this interview:
“I think for the most part that comics view disability as a thing to be fixed. If a person is injured, their parts can be swapped out for cybernetic ones or they can be magically healed and everything is better. The reality of living with a disability is much different. While her cybernetic arm makes her super strong, it is also bound to have effects on her life. Self-image is just one of those things. [...] It was also very important to me that in the last page, Misty does not have her arm. She is having an intimate night with her husband, getting her hair done, and snuggling up to go to sleep. First off, we’re talking about a large, bulky metal arm. Secondly, the thing has a lot of moving parts and is sure to make noise. I think the visual of a superheroic woman of color with her arm missing is very powerful.”
Again-- this is one isolated, unique interpretation. But we’ve always found it compelling.
Now, we are finally getting Misty’s sweet robot arm in glorious live action, and we cannot wait. To start, it looks great. The design is fantastic-- still futuristic, as it should look to emphasize its state-of-the-art-ness, but it also looks realistic. The fact that it seems to be some form of plastic/carbon fiber rather than metal, and the sleeve-like part where you can see how it’s attached to what’s left of her biological arm, both provide the illusion of this being actual prosthetic technology. It’s possible that this arm will, just like 616 Misty’s first arm, only be super strong. But there ain’t nothing wrong with that.
(The level of detail on this thing is breathtaking. Wow.)
We also know that this new arm will be-- gasp-- Rand technology! We’ve been excited about this idea for a long time, so we were thrilled when it was hinted in the last episode of The Defenders. Usually we’re sticklers for comics accuracy, but this change makes perfect sense. It keeps Misty’s story tied to the Netflix corner of the MCU (we’d love for these shows to cross over with the movies, but in this case staying close to home will allow for more freedom in telling this specific story). It is also a wonderful bit of bonding between Misty and Danny, who have had distressingly few interactions so far in this universe. The whole idea of him commissioning the arm for her makes us all warm and fuzzy, and regardless of whether this will actually lead to them interacting in this show, it still presents a form of personal connection, which we appreciate. Go check out this delightful Rand Enterprises spotlight on Misty, if you haven’t already!
This will be a new chapter in Misty’s life emotionally as well. She will have to cope with having lost a limb, and all that that implies. Like in the comics, she should be in for a difficult time, because experiencing this kind of trauma is world-altering. There have been several shots in the trailers that suggest a Misty who is coping well and recovering, which is a big relief. But that can’t come too quickly, because that’s not realistic. We also have moments like the one above, which suggest turmoil. We also have this great Daughters of the Dragon scene, which suggests that Misty may be suffering from insecurity, and which Colleen may be using tough love to treat (just like in the comics). And while we know that Misty will still be operating as a cop in some capacity, it will be interesting to see how she approaches this, and how long it will last. Misty’s story is only just beginning, and for us, she is one of the people we’re most excited to see again this season.
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