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themillsdaughter · 28 days

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a privilege I deprive myself of

Synopsis: you would rather chew glass than see Melissa yearn for something and not have it delivered to her. the thing, however, is that your life is a shitshow, and what was meant to be an act of kindness upends any effort you've made throughout the years to keep your feelings hidden.

or slightly insecure! Melissa and traumatized! reader in a Valentine's Day au inspired by this prompt.

Words: 3.9k

Warnings: Talks of body image.

Also, my first time dabbling in this fandom and character, so... Hope you like it!

This isn’t ideal.

Valentine's Day has never been your favorite. Truthfully, you think it’s only yet another excuse for Capitalism to suck some extra cash out of millions of pockets.

You’ve thought this your entire life, regardless of being in a relationship or not. The thing, however, is that you live in a capitalist society and escaping the emotional reliance on the holiday is damn near impossible. So, throughout the years, you’ve come to terms with at least doing something for partners on the day.

Well, that is, until you’d walked in your apartment one day and found your girlfriend straddling a woman you’d never seen before.

This year, you’re single, so the whole thing had just slipped into the background, a red and pink festival more than anything else, really.

“You’re not doing anything?” Janine had asked a few days before in the teachers' lounge, brow furrowed, pity shining in her eyes. Dear God. “You know, Galentine’s Day is really popular now.”

“Honey, I barely want to celebrate the day when I have someone. Why would I make a fuss now that I have an out?” You’d gone back to grading, trying your damnest not to roll your eyes.

“Well, Tariq used to be like that, too. Even though we were together. Sometimes he would forget and go on trips, and those times were pretty lonely… You know, with all the hearts and chocolate and candles and couples around. Not that that’s the case this year, you know. I’m with Maurice, and he’s super attentive.” Her uncomfortable fidgeting had made her chair squeak. As sweet as she is, she should really learn how to stop projecting. “Anyways, I just worry about you. I don’t want you to feel lonely.”

“I don’t.”

“She doesn’t.” Melissa had said, at the same time as you. Looking up from the papers, you’d shared a grin with her. “She has enough wondering thoughts to keep her company.”

Finally, you’d given into your urge and rolled your eyes.

So this really isn’t ideal.

“I think this one is too tight, though.” The voice coming from your phone said. You turned the heat from the stove down, placed a half-lid over the pan, and picked up the device from the counter. On the screen, you saw something that made you pull out a stool from your island and thank God that the woman on the other side of the line was too busy looking at herself in the mirror, brows furiously furrowed, to notice.

Melissa had her hair up in a messy bun, her old pair of glasses hanging in the middle of her nose, and a dark red dress on that stole the breath from your lungs.

The material was soft, with satin-like finish, puffy long sleeves, a square neckline that showed her cleavage to perfection and a skirt that hit her a few inches above her knees.

Nervously, her hands tried to smooth over the creases formed on the dress by her belly.

“Maybe I could wear some spanks” she sighed. “It’s too tight, right?” She turned back to where the phone was, asking you directly.

For a few seconds, you struggled to think of something other than ‘uh’ to say. Melissa is stunning and, in those moments, you wished you’d been braver back when you’d had the chance. Maybe, she’d be asking Barbara this, getting ready as a surprise for you, not for somebody else.

In a breath, you swallowed that feeling, locking it away with all the ones of its kind, somewhere deep, deep in your soul.

“Hun? It’s too tight, isn’t it? Who the fuck do I think I am trying on something like this.” She’d taken your silence as disapproval, and if she only knew you’d only want to see that off of her if you’d taken it out yourself…

“Shut up, will you?” You finally said. “It’s gorgeous, it looks awesome on you.”

“Yeah?”

“It’s the nicest one of the bunch.”

“I don’t know if I have spanks short enough for it, though. And I need something to get this under control.” She pushed her belly in again, and it enraged you.

“Anyone who doesn’t find that hot is not someone you should listen to.” You said, holding back the rant that always appeared on the tip of your tongue when she said shit like this.

Honestly, the struggle of straight men to like women is mind-boggling.

“You might just be too gay for this.” Melissa snorted, going into her drawer in search of the spanks.

“Well, fuck you very much.”

She barked out a laugh, and you let go of your phone to stir the food you were cooking, glad for a break from the glory of the woman you did not love like that.

Which is yet another reason why this isn’t ideal.

You don’t really care for Valentine's Day, but on the morning of the 14th, Melissa had seemed off. You tried touching on the subject while you two got coffee, as weak as Abbott’s brew always was, however, Gary walked in in all of his mustached glory and her attention immediately shifted to him.

He’s her boyfriend, it’s Valentine's Day, it was only logical.

She gave him hint after hint, pushed her shoulders a bit back, highlighting her breasts just slightly, cocked her hips some while leaning against the sink, licked her lips more than usual, everything to get an ounce of attention back. The absolute idiot fussed over the vending machine, mumbled a few words to her, eyes not even moving in her direction, before leaving with a “see ya later” tossed behind him.

The look that had taken over her face then had made your heart sink.

“He’s been like this all week.” She said during lunch break in your car. “Barbara thinks he might be planning something, says he’s not cheating, but I don’t know… I tried fooling myself with getting the perfect outfit, getting my hair and my nails done, but he hasn’t mentioned any plans, and he’s been so fucking distant, he doesn’t even seem like himself. And I really can’t handle another Joe situation.” Taking the last bite of the Shepard’s pie you’d brought her, she leaned her head against the rest.

To nearly everybody else here, she shows her angry, reactive, gray side. It’s easier for her, something that still makes her an outcast, but firmly protects her inner-self. But some magical, all-powerful, incredible being out there had made it so you were the one she chose to show her other side to, the one that is not always confident, not in her worth or her looks or her ability as a teacher.

The one that loves so intensely it scares her, and the one that has so many scars she spends half her time trying to heal them, or, at the very least, stop them from bleeding all over the place and being visible to the outside world.

“What do you think?” She said, bringing you back to the inside of your 2010s Honda. “You’ve always been better at these things.”

“Do I think he’s cheating on you?”

She nodded.

“Well, first of all, if he is, he is an absolute deepshit who doesn’t know how to count his blessing for you even giving him the time of day.”

You looked into her eyes while you said it, and she turned her head after, staring at the Tupperware in her hands. You thought you saw a blush creeping up on her cheeks.

“But I don’t think he is. Hey, maybe he’s just seen Valentine’s Day for what it is!” You nudged her arm with the back of your hand. “Maybe you’re the one who has to get on board.”

She relented a smile then, but it didn’t last.

“Mel, I think you’ll just have to ride this one out. Wait until the end of the day, so then you can actually have a conversation with him. If he really forgot or if there’s really something wrong, you’ll find out, but, honestly, me? I think he might just have some goofy-ass surprise planned.”

Melissa nodded while keeping her gaze out the window.

There’s a beat, then another, and you thought perhaps you’d convinced her, and she was only taking some time to absorb it.

“You know, you may not feel lonely with this kind of stuff, but…” She paused, voice tired, heart bearing all those tender scars, “I think I’m more like Janine than I’d thought.”

So, hm, this isn’t ideal.

You’d be damned if you let a man who didn’t realize the one in a million he had found ruin Melissa’s day.

Even if Valentine’s Day was traumatic for you, even if it was silly and forced and the world would be better off without it, Melissa was Melissa, and she deserved everything she wanted out of life. You’d thought Gary would see it, but if he didn’t, it’s up to you, even with all your emotional limitations.

So you wrote a little card. Nothing much, just made out of a fancier piece of purple paper you’d had lying around the classroom, with a heart-sticker you’d found at the bottom of your purse decorating the front page. Inside, the note wasn’t all that special, just enough for her to know she would never be alone. That you loved her. That she’d always have you, even if one day she didn’t have anyone else. That she’s your favorite, and if she wanted to, you’d take her out for dinner yourself.

As a friend, of course. Truly.

The fact she made your chest inflate and your pressure drop and a flock of butterflies run a full marathon in your stomach were not things that were included.

After sending the students home, saying goodbye to everyone else (Gregory and his Legos, Janine and her designer bag she knew nothing about, Ava and her many flings and Jacob and his slam poetry), you’d walked to the lounge, where you’d seen Barb and Mel walking towards only a few minutes earlier.

On the way there, you’d seen a bouquet of gerberas discarded on the hallway floor. You’d wondered if a poor kid had gotten broken up with on that day of all days, or if the bouquet held any card of its own. You’d picked it up, deciding to bring it to the compost pile later.

You hadn’t realized how it looked until it had been too late.

“Hey, Mel, I have something for…” You’d started, rounding the corner to enter the room.

“I love you too.” She’d said, looking into Gary’s eyes. In a split second, you’d registered there was something off about her voice, something lacking.

And now here you are, in this less than ideal situation.

All three look at you, standing in the doorway with a card and flowers, calling after another person’s girlfriend. Shit.

“What do you have for her?” Gary’s hand tightens on her waist just so.

So, yeah. Not fucking ideal.

“Hey, look at that. I uh…actually forgot the… ah… The book I was lending you.” You mumble. Spinning on your heels, you walk as fast as humanly possible without breaking into a sprint.

Stupid-ass, invented, asinine holiday.

******

You’re more than half-way through a bottle of Merlot when your doorbell rings.

“Fucking finally!” You shout, jumping from your couch, your belly clenching painfully. Opening up your front door, though, your shoulders drop. “You’re not Postmates.”

“No, I am not. You know what else I also am not? Enjoying this beautiful night with my husband.” Barbara floods you with words, walking past you into the living room.

“Why is that, exactly?” And maybe you’re starting to get drunk, because she seems furious with you, and you can’t remember the last time that ever happened.

“Because I cannot possibly enjoy what was supposed to be a romantic moment with Gerald when I get a desperate phone call from my best friend’s partner asking me if I know where she is.”

It’s too many words too fast, so you sit back down and blink hard, trying to focus.

“What are you talking about?”

“Gary called me. He doesn’t know where Melissa is.”

Melissa. Suddenly, the reason you’d started drinking comes back to you. Shit. Shit shit shit.

“Have you seen her?” Barbara seems to take pity on you, be it for your drunkenness or the way your face scrunches up at the name.

“Not since this afternoon, no. What happened?”

“Gary says she went after you, came back in a different mood. Then they got into an argument in the middle of dinner, because she didn’t seem to be enjoying it, which is strange considering she spent the day worrying he wouldn’t do anything special, as we both know.” She sits down on the futon in front of you. “He says she broke up with him right then and there, and left.”

What?

“What?”

“I don’t understand it either. What did you say to her in the hallway?”

“Nothing, I didn’t talk to her in the hallway, or at all.”

Barbara looks away, shaking her head with an incredulous smile on her lips.

“You two are… God forgive me, but infuriating.” She turns back, sighing. “Did she text you? I’ve called and called, but she hasn’t picked up. She’s not at her house, either.”

“I don’t know.” You pull your phone from the middle of the cushions. “It’s been on focus mode the whole night, I only got notifications for my food.”

“Can you try her? Maybe she’ll pick up if it’s you.”

“You’re starting to freak me out.”

“Yes, well, at least we’ll be on the same page.”

The line rings three times before going to voicemail. Then, there’s someone pressing your doorbell again. Your stomach aches.

Again, not Postmates.

“You’re an asshole!” It’s the first thing out of Melissa’s mouth. As the second person today pushes her way into your home, Barbara jumps up from her seat.

“You’re alive, you’re whole?” She turns Melissa over, taking advantage of the woman’s confusion at seeing her here. “Are you stupidly drunk?”

“Uh… No. Why…”

“Are you going to make any decisions that might land you in jail?”

“No.”

“Thank you, Jesus!” Barbara shouts, letting go of the redhead, lifting her hands in praise, and walking to the door. “Please, resolve your issues and let me have my steak in peace. I’ll call your boy-“ She looks Melissa over. “I’ll call Gary, let him know you’re okay. Goodbye. Also, you’re both on probation until further notice.”

She closes the door behind her with a bang, and the two of you are left alone, staring at each other.

Her make-up is smudged, as if she’d been crying, and that beautiful, beautiful red dress shines under the light. The vision worries you at the same time it sets the butterflies off.

Once more, with feeling: this is not ideal.

It feels like forever goes by, just like this, with neither of you moving or speaking or looking away.

Until she unclenches her fist, and you see your card, the one you’d lost on your rush to leave.

“You couldn’t have picked a better moment?” Melissa asks, placing the piece of paper on your entrance table. Her anger, so explosive moments ago, is low and dangerous now, simmering with the hurt in her eyes.

“Listen, I know how it looked-“

“Any other moment.” She keeps going, incapable of stopping now that she’s started. “Maybe one of the endless times when we sat on that fucking couch watching those boring movies you like. Or… Or maybe one of the nights when we spent hours pouring over project ideas or education strategies. Or really any other time before I made the decision to move on.”

Her heart is there, right in front of you, in the tears that drown the gorgeous green of her irises. Somehow, you feel like this is the cataclysm of thoughts and words and feelings you had both held back for years.

“What?” You mumble for the second time tonight.

“I found every excuse in the book to avoid this, to avoid looking for someone else. And some of it was true, really. Joe did a number on me, which you know – which is why that just hurt worse.” She points to the card, bent in half and slightly crumbled. “But most of it was crap, and I knew it was crap, but I convinced myself it wasn’t because you weren’t ready, but you are amazing, and maybe it was better to wait just a little longer to see if you ever got your shit together, if you ever got over what that ex of yours did. But you never, ever did.”

“Melissa, the flowers…”

“Yeah, gerberas, my favorites, I know. That was a nice touch. You probably knew he wouldn’t remember that detail.”

“No, Mel, I didn’t buy them.” You step forward, past the table, close enough to reach out and touch her arm, if you were brave enough. You never are.

“What, are you gonna tell me you grew them too?” She snorts, humorlessly. “You know, the worst part is that you encouraged me. You told me to go after him, to let him woo me. Even this morning! You told me to wait for him, just to pull this crap.”

She raises her hand, wipes her eyes, and Christ, what the hell have you done?

She breathes in, and it would be wondrous if it weren’t terrifying, how she puts her heart away, takes the part reserved just for you to see and hides it from view.

“I’ve been in love with you for longer than I know, and this whole time you’ve been leading me on, never really letting me go, no, but still pushing me away.”

In love you with you. In love you with you.

I’ve been in love with you for longer than I know.

It reverberates inside your brain as if an echo in a museum. In love with you.

The person who lights up your days without a fail, the woman who’s made every single potential partner pale in comparison, a staple in your life so important that the mere thought of risking something that could make you lose her had forced you to bury all warm and fuzzy feelings. That woman. This woman. Melissa. Your Melissa. In love with you.

You feel your past is too broken to believe her, but still the thought of her being this hurt is unacceptable.

“Mel, I didn’t write the card to steal you away.”

You risk it now, because you feel her slipping through your fingers, and not seeing her heart when she looks into your eyes makes you feel the loneliest you ever have. You risk reaching over, placing one hand on each of her upper arms. The fabric there is so soft it surprises you.

She flinches, but allows it.

“Just to keep me from giving up, right?”

“You know me better than that.” You try, throat tight. You damn sure hope she does. “I wrote it because you seemed really hurt, and just in case Gary messed up, I wanted you to know you at least had me. You’ll always have me.”

She shakes her head, eyes welling up again.

“What a great pal you are.” Melissa whispers.

“I found the fucking flowers on the floor, I was gonna take them to the trash.” You lose your patience for a split second, because maybe you were tactless, but this is a bit too far, even for such a stubborn woman.

She raises a brow.

“I’m not trying to cover my ass.”

“’You’re the person I think about the most’” She quotes the card. “Did you mean that?”

“Of course.” You say without a thought.

“As a friend?” She challenges.

No. Yes. Maybe. It’s on the tip of your tongue.

If you risk this next step, will you lose her eventually? Like you have every other woman you have loved like this? Will you lose yet another person, yet another soul you feel you can rest beside?

You let your hands travel down slightly.

“Mostly.” She breaks eye contact, frowning. “I cherish our friendship so much, Melissa. But part of me wanted to say more. To say things that weren’t purely platonic. I didn’t mean to steer you around.” You sigh. This is… a lot. “I want to see you happy, Mel. More than anything in the world, you deserve that. And I just felt like allowing myself to feel all those things for you would jeopardize that. You’re an explosive, hot-headed, weird, outlaw Italian with a great mind and a huge, huge heart, and you’re definitely too good for me.”

She shakes her head again, but looking at those amazing, gorgeous, breathtaking green orbs, you find a glimpse of that other side of hers, even if the tears are still there, hiding underneath the surface.

“Today, I only wanted to make sure you would be okay. And I’m sorry about the misunderstanding. I truly didn’t want to ruin that moment for you.” Finally, you reach her hands, and she holds yours back. You fit. “And I have only ever encouraged you to go out there because I really believe you deserve to have the fullest life you can possibly have, and that’s probably with someone… less damaged. Someone good and kind. Someone like Gary.”

Melissa mumbles to herself in Italian.

Forse sarebbe più facile.

“But I don’t love Gary.” She says simply, in English, relaxing into your touch, sending your blood pressure through the roof.

I’ve been in love with you for longer than I know.

“I know.” You say.

You had seen it in her eyes when she’d returned his declaration earlier, the emptiness, the masking, the guilt for lying. She wanted to love him so badly.

She’d looked at you back then and, for a split second, before the confusion and embarrassment that had followed, she’d seemed relieved, as if saying there’s the one who sees me. And something more.

Now, the something more is clearer.

“I know you’re scared.” She whispers again. “And you always, always try to protect me from these things. Never when I get myself mixed up with family business or get into fights…”

“Well, I trust your right hook for that.” You can’t help yourself. She snorts very, very softly, and maybe there’s hope yet.

“But you always try to keep me safe from this, even from you.” Melissa lets go of one your hands, placing a palm against your cheek. Oh, so that’s what it means to have a heart attack. “But I have never, ever, been afraid of your baggage, you jackass.” The spark of defiance that flashes through her expression pulls a smile from you.

If someone had asked you yesterday if this happening was something you thought possible, you’d have laugh them out of the room.

“I just wish you’d given me that god-damn card before I’d wasted this dress on somebody else and had broken a man’s heart for nothing.”

“Poor Gary,” you whisper.

“Yeah… Poor Gary.”

So, perhaps it’s not ideal, with the tears and heartache and being on Barb’s bad side, but she leans up on her tip toes, squeezing your hand, palm migrating down to hold your neck, and despite not being ideal, it does feel oddly right.

“I don’t give a fuck if you hate Valentine’s Day and you think this is corny. You better kiss me before I lose my nerve, or I swear to…”

For the first time in your adult life, you forgo your mind, trying something with risks that may far outweigh the good. With a tug, you pull her in, leaning down, breath catching in your throat when your lips connect, and you find you don’t give two shits about the risks.

Heaven.

Of course, your doorbell rings not five seconds later. Fucking Postmates.

#melissa schemmenti #melissa schemmenti x reader #abbott elementary fic #angst with a dab of humor (if you squint)#can anyone tell I am really into sarcasm as a form of comedy? ANYWAYS #themillsdaughter writes #‘hey shouldn’t you be trying to finish that wyp you started 3 years ago?’#yes yes i should but that’s not how the muse works apparently

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labyrinthofsphinx · 25 days

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Behold, terrible people and the muffin they stole!

A scene from my drabble below. Wanted to do something special so a bit of art to go with. As always, let me know your thoughts, guys!

Statistical Outliers

“So, I’m your man, huh?”

“You know, it’s a fucking shame you just got that new head of yours because if you say that one more fucking time, I will bash it in again.”

The day hadn’t exactly gone as planned, but he won’t complain about the ending, at least. After calming both Valentino and Velvette down, enough that a manhunt for the imagined Alastor shadow wasn’t going to sound off anytime soon, he had to compensate them for…well, their time, he’d suppose. He didn’t expect that kind of reaction, the reactionary viciousness. Which also meant compensation had to be just as well.

Vel was easy to fix. He just gave her his credit card. Go nuts with it.

Val was harder to please, but less painful to his wallet. He still took him out, rented out the whole nightclub for just him and his groupies. They drank like fish and spent a terribly long time in the club’s backrooms. Val, still reeling from the damage Vox did to him just the night before, was absolutely ravaged by days end.

Not that the day ended when they got back, mind you. Hence the teasing.

“No need to be so hostile, Val. I’m just saying-”

“Yeah? Well, now you need to shut up.”

He was on the lounge, trying to pretend like he wasn’t showing off his legs again. As if they weren’t already covered top to bottom in marks, bites, and scratches. He stretched out, arms gliding along his hips, toying with the belt of yet another bathrobe that Vox will need to replace. The man was insatiable, he’ll give him that.

“Hmm.” He brought his head forward, right next to Val’s antenna. They were sensitive, much more than you’d expect. The slight vibrations of a voice sent them twitching. The static from a TV had them spiraling. Vox teased a breath by them. “Sure, Val. Whatever you want, today.”

He didn’t really want him to shut up. It was one of his favorite things about Vox, he’s pretty sure. Valentino was a man of ego, and he loved nothing more than having it stroked in every possible, conceivable way. He’s never said as much, but he’s pretty sure that’s why he always petitions him in the monitor room. There’s just something appealing to the man about having eyes watch them from everywhere, of hearing praise from everywhere. Especially if it was Vox’s.

He shivered when Vox ever so gently ran his fingers through with his antenna. Had he not been spent from before, Vox’s is pretty sure Val would’ve leapt up and dragged Vox to the floor with him.

“What I want would involve enough screaming to wake the damn ring.” He huffed.

“Oh, you want to scream now?” Vox teased. “I can help with that.”

“Vox, you talk too much.” He said, as if he wasn’t vibrating from the idea.

“That’s what they tell me.” He joked, pulling away enough to make Valentino miss his presence by his side.

It was always like this, this tugging and pulling. Some days, Val would want nothing more than Vox. Other days, well, Vox loses his face. One could never quite tell where the dice were going to land, but he’d be a liar to say that there wasn’t something he loved about it, in a sick sense of the word. Sure, he never wanted to get his head rearranged, but Val being in a violent mood could be fun, has been fun in the past.

It was just a whole lot less fun when he ended up with the target on his head. Honestly, he can’t even remember when that started to happen, only that he just had to account for it in the schedule and budget.

But at least it was still Vox. His anger and desire was still centered on Vox.

Until Angel Dust happened.

Cut it out, Vox. Don’t think of him right now. That line of thinking never goes anywhere good. Besides, he was still on camera! Can’t be frowning in the middle of the scene, now can we?

His hands quickly wrapped around Val’s sides. Before he had time to react, he’d already pulled him up in his arms. Val’s legs hitched at Vox’s waist, and his arms tugged across his shoulders and face.

That was another thing Val loved, being manhandled. Being eleven feet tall apparently gives people the wrong impression, but Vox knew better. Val was a moth, a fuzzy casing of exoskeleton covering nothing but softness underneath. He seemed strong because he was big, and because some of that frame gave him power to work with. But it was nothing compared to the complex dance of flesh, bone, and machinery. He’s not as tall, obviously, but there was a reason Val always chose to aim for his face or the delicate parts still left on his skin. If he bit too far, or aimed just a little wrong, Val could accidentally end up damn near breaking his own hand.

Machines didn’t have the same rules for bodies that living things do. Both were complicated and everything inside served a function for higher operations, but machines were made to carry out everything at a hundred percent of their ability. They do what they’re programed to, nothing more and nothing less. Organic machinery was built for the opposite, the gradients and the fine tuning. One was determination made from metal and iron, and the other was calculation on the scale of nerves and cells. And Vox was a mismatched mess stuck between the two.

That meant that when he did decide to pull, there was little Val could do but ride out the wave. Not that this wasn’t already what he had in mind, given his poison nearly dripping onto Vox’s face.

“Oh, I should’ve just gone to that shitty hotel and brought you back Alastor’s head.” Val purred. “I can’t imagine what you’d do then.”

While in theory that was incredibly hot, Vox wasn’t going to be giving him any ideas. Especially since this is Val, and he might think his stupid theory is a good idea later.

“Don’t tell me your thinking of leaving now?” Vox’s voice added a bit of television fading, just as he brought a finger to tease the length of Val’s spine.

“Oh, not on your life.”

“Good.”

One last steamy session on the longue later and a cleanup in the bath that also might’ve gotten a little steamy, and Vox had them both tucked into his bed. He never smoked Val’s cigarettes, even after they were done. Sure, it might not have the same effect on him as it does others, screen head and all that, but something in the chemicals brings his thoughts around to the worst. Maybe Val smoked too much before making out, because Vox’s head was dragging him around even without the visible smoke.

Alastor wasn’t just a Vox problem. Val probably knew that better than Vel, but she’s been around long enough to know. If the king falls, the game is over, isn’t it? Is that the only reason they came charging in today? Maybe. And why would he expect something else? He shouldn’t.

Every machine had a use, a function. Vox keeps the train moving. Vox keeps the Vees at the top. Vox keeps all of Hell focused on them, loving them.

But to his fellow Vees? Vox solves problems. That’s his function.

He admits there’s attachment there but, well, let’s just say he’s never under the assumption that the attachment wasn’t built from necessity. Like a certain radio freak mentioned once, keep only the necessities, everything else is a potential liability.

But then there’s days like today. When something bad almost happened, or he thought it would, and he was a little surprised they showed up. I mean, obviously they would. As he said, he was required for things to work. The body didn’t function without a brain.

That didn’t stop his replay on Val’s and Vel’s words, ‘my man’ and ‘my boys’ respectively. He liked the sound of that.

Then, of course, there was the kid. He literally clawed his way up most of the levels of Vee tower to make sure he was alive. Not to mention that this is literally like the second time he’s promised to maim the kid and he still insists that they’re friends. If it wasn’t for the fact that he tested what the kid said about his suggestions not working before Vel took him to the spa, Vox would be questioning if he accidentally hypnotized the kid into liking him. Because none of that is normal. Then again, who the hell is normal down here?

The more he thinks on it, what was the kid’s plan? What if Alastor had been in the room? What if they were fighting? What if Vox was losing? Not that he would, because he wouldn’t be, but hypothetically. What would he do then?

He wasn’t good in a fight, that much was clear. He didn’t have powers, and certainly nothing that would stand up eldritch shadow demons…

Wait, did he just assume the kid would be on his side? Why did his calcs jump to that?

Feedback on his systems told him exactly why, playing back footage from the past several days. Simply, because Vox was his friend, and it was obvious now that there was little he wouldn’t do for his friends.

Oh, fucking damn it. The kid latched on like tumor to the brain.

He liked that kid, selfishly and stupidly attached to him.

He was trying hard not to smile, but it’s difficult to force a face without muscles to do much of anything, especially when his program literally pours his thoughts into expression. And it was hard to be in a bad mood right now.

‘My man’. ‘My boys’. ‘My friend’.

“Voxxy, your screen is pink.”

“Shut up, Val.”

“Oh, it’s practically maroon now.”

“Shut the fuck up, Val!”

Like adding gasoline to flame, the bedroom door was flung open. Distracted as he’d been, he failed to notice that Vel had come back from the spa and already jumped into pajamas. She kicked open the door, and waltzed in like she owned the place. In her arms, the kid dangled like a stuffed animal fresh out the dryer.

“I’m assuming since you guys are talking in full sentences that you’re done now?” Vel said. For once, her phone was tucked away, probably in a pocket in her lounge shorts.

“‘Till the morning, I suppose. It’s the best way to start mornings.” Val answered for them, a finger teasing the side of Vox’s head.

The kid’s expression was blank, like he was staring into a void. He was clean at least.

“What happened to you?” Vox asked.

“We went to the spa.” Mimicking Val, Velvette answered for the two of them. “I got everything done, including a two hour massage. The masseur was some centipede guy, thousand arms and all. You really need steal that guy, Vee. My back feels great.”

He kept looking at the kid, waiting for his answer. When he finally decided that he could answer with the other two around, he spoke like he was experiencing a flashback to a war.

“I now know what it’s like to be play-doh.”

Despite himself, Vox tossed his head back, rolling.

“Anyways,” Vel readjusted the kid in her arms and started walking over to the bed. “you two are dressed, yeah? Because this is an invasion.”

Well, Val was as dressed as Val ever is, kept decent just barely by the length of Vox’s robes. He really needed to start ordering them five sizes too tall at this point. As for himself, he had the decency to swap into regular pajamas…just in case he and kid couldn’t sleep and wanted to give Asteroids another go.

Not that Velvette waited for an answer. The bed was big, obviously. It had to be to hold Val. Save for when he unfolds his wings, the bed could hold an ungodly amount of people. Honestly, it was just cheaper to buy two of the same size bed when he was ordering Val’s. That’s the only reason it was so stupidly big. Vox didn’t share the bed often enough to warrant it, unlike Val.

Velvette climbed over him, landing just beneath his right arm and tucking herself against his chest. In doing so, she pulled off the blanket. Probably a smart decision because of how hot Vox was to sleep against. He was unofficially Velvette’s favorite that-time-of-the-month pillow. Val, to his left, just wrapped his arms around Vox’s legs and his left arm, as per always.

The kid was crushed in the space between Vel’s body and his own. With all that fur, he could imagine it was going to get very hot, very quickly there. Using the one arm that hadn’t been abducted yet, he punched the pillow beside his head. Then, he snuck down, plucked the kid up, and put him on it.

He was rewarded by an honest smile. In hell, that was a pretty rare gift.

Then, the little body wrapped around that arm, a big fluffy tail curling down and tickling his sides. Holy shit, he was small. The kid was curled almost entirely into the palm of his hand.

Before he even knew it, he was surrounded. Trapped, you might even say, by a tangled mess of bodies all fighting for a bit of his body heat.

Oh, there were worse ways to end the evening. Barring something amazing happening, like Alastor keeling over dead or Lucifer handing over his crown, this might just be as good as it gets.

You know, fuck that heaven bullshit. This was heaven.

“’Night, Vee.” Velvette mumbled, half asleep.

“Night, guys.”

He didn’t get to sleep right away. He stayed awake long enough to hear the little noises, an offkey song of sleep. Val squeaked in his sleep, randomly. His wings would flutter together sometimes, but the fuzz on the scales kept it from sounding much more than the sound of skin touching skin. Vel talks in her sleep, sort of. She mumbles more than anything. It was never enough to make a sentence out of, in fact it sounded a bit like baby babble. Occasionally, her phone would ping, but he was so used to the sound now that it was basically a backtrack to his day.

The kid was the newest sound. He knew now that foxes could, apparently, squeak. But, as Vox was sitting there and gingerly gliding his fingers through freshly cleaned fur, he heard a different sound.

They purr? Why do they purr?

Unconsciously, the kid snuggled his face into Vox’s hand, the ridiculously soft coat almost swallowing up his digits.

Oh, this was all too cute. This was all too fucking much for today. Cuteness aggression hit him like a truck again, and it was a struggle against every instinct in his body not to move, for fear of ruining it all by waking one of them up.

Then, he caught on something.

The collar that Velvette had put on the kid on day one was snug tight against his throat. Drowned out by his fur, Vox had almost forgotten about it. It felt so odd, out of place. The cold metal stuck flat to his skin, with only the little charm hanging a little more comfortably away.

He tugged a little, just enough to see it better.

The bright blue ‘V’ looked almost neon in the dark, surrounded by that deep red heart. It really did look like a dog collar like this, didn’t it?

Dehumanizing something was easy here. No one even looked human anymore. Very few acted human even when they were alive.

A few days ago, he didn’t give it a second thought. He couldn’t have cared less. Now though?

Carefully, he undid the little magnetic hook in the back. Unlike a normal collar, this one was designed to never come off, not unless one of the three of them did it. The key was a simple, a contrary magnetic pull that would activate the lock, but too strong or too weak of a pull would just break it and cause it to get stuck. Vel probably had the actual key in her room, but it didn’t take much of Vox’s power to undo a little magnetic flux.

He twirled it around the kid’s wrist instead, like a bracelet, not unlike the ones Velvette always wears anyways. As the clasp closed, his little paw wrapped around his palm, bringing it back up to his face and cradling it like a pillow.

“Night, Drift.” Vox said, before letting the night and its new symphony drag him off someplace nice.

That might’ve been the best sleep of his life.

Part 1/ Part 2/ Part 3/ Part 4/ Part 5/ Part 6/ Part 7/ Part 8/ Part 9/ Part 10/ Part 11

#hazbin hotel #art #hazbin hotel oc #hazbin hotel vox #hazbin hotel art #hazbin vox #vox #hazbin hotel fanfic #hazbin hotel valentino #hazbin hotel velvette #hazbin hotel the vees #the vees #staticmoth #voxval #hazbin hotel fanfiction #hazbin hotel fic #drabble #They are terrible people #But they are very fun to write and draw

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mtr1234 · 2 months

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KOLTC fans who do not like Fitz, this post is for you. Fitz fans who do not believe people have sound arguments about why they dislike Fitz, this post is also for you.

Disclaimer:

I will mention stuff that happened in Stellarlune, so if you are not caught up with the series you might not want to continue reading.

I will try to provide quotes, but I will likely just describe the scene and what book it is in when I provide my reasons.

Also, this post will be pretty long which may or may not be a good thing depending on who you are.

______________________________________________________________

Anyway, let’s get to the reasons why I dislike Fitz. I have broken them up into three main categories, and I will be talking about aspects of Fitz’s character that I think a lot of people overlook (not the reasons that people do tend to mention: him having anger issues and being boring)

I don’t know if you guys have noticed this, but Fitz is really shady, Iike really shady (and not in a good way like our favorite shade Tam)

He has eavesdropped on Sophie and Keefe’s conversations before which I find so weird

In Lodestar, when Sophie and Keefe were communicating telepathically in that slimy location that Keefe picked out, Fitz started listening in on their conversation without their knowledge. He said it was because he was worried since he heard Sophie gasp. Personally, I do not buy this excuse. He can literally see Sophie so he could easily determine that she is not in danger. At the very least, why did he not immediately announce that he was listening once he knew Sophie was okay? In my opinion, it just feels odd, and if I were Sophie or Keefe I would feel a bit uneasy.

In Flashback, Sophie and Keefe were talking in the healing center about starting weapons training, and Sophie asks Keefe if he is down to do that (or something along those lines). Fitz immediately shouts, “I’m in!” The shady thing about this was that he was sleeping in his cot when they were talking. Now, I’m not saying that he is expected to cover his ears while they have a private convo in the healing center. But the thing is, he pretended to be asleep to listen to more of their conversation which is creepy.

The next very shady thing was the gift he gave Sophie in Legacy which was a painting he asked Keefe to make.

I always thought this was shady because, for one thing, he completely stole Keefe’s idea for a gift. Come on, a painting with a heartfelt message on the back?! That was literally what Keefe gave Sophie in Nightfall. Here comes the actual shady part though: why did he not just go to Atlantis or somewhere and have someone paint it for him? He purposefully asked Keefe to paint the confession scene between him and Sophie when he knows that Keefe likes Sophie. That is so messed up. This is made even worse by the fact that he paid Keefe when literally every elf is born with an unlimited birth fund so it was essentially worthless.

This next example happened in Legacy. I feel like a lot of people forgot about this or kind of swept in under the rug, but I think it is actually very telling of the type of person Fitz is. I am talking about when Fitz decided to search Lord Cassius’s mind to learn anything about where Alvar might be after he got away in Flashback.

There are several shady things about what happened in this scene. First of all, Fitz decided to do this even though he knew that it would make Keefe uncomfortable (Fitz would see the abuse/trauma Keefe suffered at home). Secondly, Fitz did this without even asking Keefe first or even letting him know about it. If you recall, he literally just showed up at Keefe’s house without any warning. Lastly, he tried to lie about it too. He tried to say “I’m doing this for Keefe” and “whatever I find will be helpful for Keefe”. Give me a break, we all know he did not do this out of concern for Keefe and he was caught lying in the act by Keefe himself. *I find it funny how he tried to lie about it to Keefe, when Keefe is literally the strongest empath in their world and is literally so smart even though he does not get enough credit for it.

2. When he gets mad at Sophie, the first thing he does is belittle her or try to make her feel stupid:

This first example comes from Exile when Fitz was getting mad at Sophie about what happened to his dad. Now, a lot of people like to dismiss how Fitz acted in this situation because he was under a lot of stress, but I do not think this is right to do because it absolves Fitz of any guilt instead of addressing how his behavior was wrong. The specific scene I am referring to is when, I believe, Alvar suggests that maybe Sophie can help Alden and then Fitz responds with: “Please, she’s just a kid.” What I get from this statement is that he is making Sophie feel less than, and in the process he is putting himself above her “level”. Now, one can use the excuse that he wasn’t himself and that he was torn up with grief, but he says similar things to Sophie later on in the series (when his dad is not on his deathbed) which I mention below.

This next example happens towards the end of Legacy, just before Fitz and Sophie broke up. Sophie was defending her decision to search Lord Cassius’s mind for any important information even though Fitz was already doing that (she honestly didn’t even need to do this because everyone knew he was getting nowhere and that he would never have found anything useful). Anyway, Fitz responds with: “So you thought the Moonlark needed to swoop in and take over? The leader of Team Valiant? Lady Sophie Foster? The fact that he is trying to make her feel bad about her accomplishments is a major red flag in my opinion. As someone who supposedly cares about her more than anyone, he should feel the most proud of her successes.

This third example is from Stellarlune. It’s when Fitz and Sophie have their first telepathy session after the whole “Fitzphie’s not a thing!” debacle. So, Sophie is asking Tiergan what a Cognate Inquisition is and then here comes the interjection: “Better question,” Fitz jumped in using a smug tone that made [Sophie] wish one of the buttons on her telepathy chair would turn Fitz’s into an ejector seat and launch him out of the room. “Why were you hoping to spare us from it?” I just think this is unnecessary and uncalled for; why is he trying to embarrass/ one up her in front of their mentor? (Did he forget that he is the one who joined her session, not the other way around?)

3. The last major issue I have with Fitz is the fact that he guilt trips Sophie and Keefe a lot. And, just so everybody is aware, not about minor stuff. He tries to make them feel guilty about things that are completely out of their control, and as you are reading these examples I just want you to keep in mind that elves are not equipped to handle guilt. Their mind can literally shatter if they feel too much of it (like Alden), and that’s why I think it is so horrific every time Fitz does stuff like this:

Everybody knows this one, but I am still going to put it here because it is worth mentioning. In Exile, Fitz blamed Sophie for his dad’s mind shattering. I have seen a lot of people try to say it is justified because he was going through a lot at the time, but I disagree. I think we can all agree that just because someone is going through a tough time (no matter how tough it may be), it does not give them the right to bully an innocent person.

Moving on, in Flashback, towards the end of the book Fitz makes everyone search for Alvar because he thinks he is up to something shady. When they find Alvar and question him, Keefe says that he can tell that Alvar is telling the truth. Then Fitz retorts, “Like you could tell with your mom?” In this remark, he is referring to the fact that, before she revealed her betrayal, Keefe had no idea that his mom was evil. This made me so angry on Keefe’s behalf because everyone already knows that he blames himself for everything that his mom is doing. With every revelation about his mom’s plan he sees how much worse things truly are, and that sends him into a downward spiral of guilt. For his “best friend” to say this to him is so messed up.

This is not another example, just my own thoughts about what I said above so you can skip it if you would like. I never understood why people (namely the Councillors) expected Keefe to know that his mom was evil. For one thing, his parents are literally known for never showing any physical or emotional affection to him. So, how is he supposed to be able to read his mom’s emotions if he never is close to her? Secondly, I think people are forgetting that as an empath he can only read people’s emotions. He does not know the reason why they are feeling the way that they do unless he has context. Lastly, his mom was literally erasing his memories left and right so whatever information he could even manage to glean would be wiped from his mind. Meanwhile, Fitz is literally a telepath, and he had no idea his brother was evil (and I assume he must have read his brother’s mind at least one time) so I think he needs to lay off the judgment.

In Legacy, Gisela leaves a note for Sophie to bring Keefe to Loamnore during the “showdown” (or whatever you want to call it). Anyway, Sophie does not want to do this because it is obviously a trap, and Keefe gives in and agrees to stay behind. When he makes this decision, Fitz says, “Wow, you really hate Tam that much? Because he’s the one who’ll pay the price if you’re not there—you get that right?” Is it just me or does that not sound so condescending? All I can say to this is how does he have the nerve to blame Gisela’s actions on Keefe, especially when Keefe is one of the people working the hardest to stop her? Also, it is crazy that Fitz is guilt tripping Keefe for deciding not to be bait and leaving his life in the hands of his (crazy) mom. I’m sure it’s easy for Fitz to say that because he is not the one who is being targeted by an evil mastermind who wants to experiment on him.

This last example happened in Stellarlune, so it is is quite literally very recent. Fitz and Sophie are in the school cafeteria, and they are disagreeing about next steps to take to stop the Neverseen. In that conversation Fitz says, “But sometimes it feels like you don’t realize that it’s only a matter of time before something you do gets someone else killed?” In my opinion this is a completely unfair statement to make against Sophie. First of all, since the beginning of the series she never wanted her friends involved in the fight against the Neverseen because she wanted to keep them safe. However, her friends (including Fitz) would not take no for an answer and insisted on helping. Secondly, Sophie is always going above and beyond (risking her life) to save that of others. Both times when she almost died fixing her abilities, she endured it all for the sake of becoming stronger and protecting her friends, family, and her world. That is why I think the way Fitz is trying to make her feel guilty, and put the entire weight of people’s lives on her shoulders, is so unjustified. She is literally a young girl trying to do her best to save her world from crazy powerful villains, cut her some slack.

If you made it to the end, thanks for reading. Honestly, there are many more examples that could be brought up that I’m sure a lot of you are thinking about, but I am too lazy to write all of that. I just wanted to share my thoughts because I have been seeing some people say that Fitz has had good character development throughout the series (which I just have not seen) and does not deserve all the hate so I just wanted to share why I believe Fitz is viewed the way he is by a majority of the Keeper fandom.

#sokeefe #keefe sencen #sophie foster #fitz vacker #kotlc fandom #kotlc #kotlc stellarlune #stellarlune #shannon messenger

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quietwingsinthesky · 2 months

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I completely agree with your post about 11 and how well Matt Smith embodies the exact necessary tone/expression for each beat of the script! I can't imagine someone else being able to bring to life that incarnation of the Doctor. Obviously 11's era and writing has its misgivings and flaws, but I still find a lot of joy rewatching those episodes, because you see this scared, lonely doctor who's still so enthusiastic and hopeful, even when the grief and rage gets to him. It's like seeing those emotions reflected in you, and a reminder that you'll feel that hope and appreciation for life/nature again, too. I think that emotional catharsis and sincerity is the heart of doctor who and what attracts us all to the show, to be given reminders that compassion and hope are a strength, not a weakness. Seeing his expression change during that part of The Doctor's Wife always, always moves me because of the kind of honor and awe that dawns on 11's face at his tardis using the exact words he uses to describe how he stole her. It's such beautiful, tender reciprocity between two beings that couldn't communicate their feelings in this way until right then 💜

yeah, couldn’t have worded it better myself if i tried.

i think i’ve said before that eleven is my least favorite doctor, but i need to make it clear that that doesn’t even come close to me disliking him, or even feeling neutral about him. he’s still incredible, like if we put these guys on a line from bad to amazing, all of them are so close to the amazing side that you’d have to zoom in to see the order. he’s just got the unfortunate fate of being in the weakest seasons of the show that i’ve seen so far, but if i was judging this solely off of the performance of the doctor himself? he’d be tied right there with david tennant, if not above him.

no matter the quality of the writing, matt smith is bringing his A game to the table. tennant’s performance before him has moments where his doctor is serious and cold, but he’s so generally affable that those moments sort of slide off to the sides. not that you forget about it, but that it feels like a lesser part of him. and matt smith’s performance follows that with a doctor who is silly and energetic and sweet, but I think he pulls off keeping the harder parts of the doctor to swallow in mind, the scary sides of his grief and anger. some of my favorite scenes for eleven are when he’s given the space to show the full range of the doctor. the two that really come to mind are obviously that moment in the doctor’s wife, and my other stand-out favorite, his scenes with river in angels in manhattan, where we watch him lash out at her when he’s scared and angry at the fact that it was her name on the book that’s fated his friends to be pulled from him, and then a scene later, he heals her wrist by sacrificing what little regeneration energy he has left, because he does love her, he does know he was wrong to let her be hurt, but he also doesn’t ask if he can do this to fix things beforehand and upsets her again.

it’s just such a delicate balance to pull off there to make that scene work, and he does it perfectly, brings across both how much potential he has as the doctor to hurt and to heal the people he loves. i think, in the hands of any other actor, i would find eleven really hard to watch, really unlikeable. but just like he manages to never let you forget those unbearably painful parts of the doctor’s personality, you also never doubt that, even when he lashes out at the people around him, he loves them so much. he’s just. you know. Going Through It.

(also, personal touch, i so love how physically affectionate he portrays the doctor to be. it’s a small touch that means the world to me. really pulls the whole thing together when you know this man is just jumping for an opportunity to hug and hold onto and kiss the people around him. rory getting a forehead kiss when the doctor sees him for the first time in months, my beloved, rotating that moment in my head forever.)

there’s just so much going on with him. he was a fantastic doctor. (hell, all the people that have gotten to play the doctor so far have been, in my eyes, which is astounding to me. just straight bangers the whole way through, i’m incredibly impressed by how much love and work you can see go into these performances.) i think if i rewatch his seasons again, knowing exactly what to expect this time around, i’ll enjoy them much more than i did the first time.

sorry for rambling on so long, but i just need it known how much i really do love eleven. i needed a bit to warm up to smith, i’ll admit, but he earned every last bit of praise i can give him.

#ask #doctor who #the doctor #eleventh doctor

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swallowtailed · 2 months

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palisade 41

honestly don’t really know where to begin here.

because, like, we all kinda knew this was coming, right? odds were it had to happen sometime. now it has.

but there’s still a real cosmic unfairness to the timing of it. figure died right after they decided they didn’t want to. breaking the wheel of their resurrection is fine and all, but they fought so hard to escape clem and join perennial that it doesn’t really ring true to me.

hearing future in the same sentence reminded me that there’s another suite of definitions for figure, aside from the noun meaning shape or form—the verb meaning guess, consider, imagine.

i’m inclined to read future and perennial as two sides of the same coin—two views of the principality. future sees an inevitable road toward culmination, perennial sees that it’s all the same fucking cycle. also, future seizing on a moment of power from perennial and turning it to their own ends.

real gur just cannot catch a break. they’re stuck with future, inside their own reanimated corpse, guarded by the shell of figure? some real eternal torment there.

so, you know. shit sucks!!

i was really, really hoping eclectic would steal future, and it would also have been incredible for gur sevraq (who, as we know, stole the future) to be stolen from future, but the dice fall as they will

really interesting contrast between the two sides of this arc wrt divine/axiom/mortal/etc relationships. thisbe is guiding integrity and communicating with ebullience, building relationships across ways of being. figure is destroyed just by exposure to divine power, subsumed by the weight of a god rearing up on its own. the axiom being willing to treat with thisbe, the divine destroying figure. which is maybe less about those powers than about the hands moving them—instrumentalization as always a core theme of palisade.

of course it is also a cautionary tale of the capriciousness of dice. if figure and gur had gotten to speak with future i can imagine it going more like thisbe’s side. but maybe not! we’ll never know.

characters being demanded to envision a future was one of my favorite beats in partizan and it was really cool to hit that again (and to call back to leap!). but also heartbreaking. cori, happy and safe…

aw fuck the crew’s still gonna have to find out that figure is dead… mortality of course goes hand in hand with grief. much like valence’s death i think the positioning of figure’s death is ultimately going to be shaped most by reactions to it

dre’s pc deaths are always so fraught, huh. valence and chine were also kind of messy, sudden deaths—no clean tragedy. which, like, is life, but also, ;-;

the music was incredible. like breathing. and the way the dirge just stops—blinks out.

eclectic drawing up the seismic power of opposition, his own power, was really moving. a bit of grace in that moment.

i’m not sure where they’re gonna go from here, especially in terms of character arcs. it’s a rough downbeat. kind of falls in line with the conflict turns, though—fighting back and forth down to the bitter end. might be a bleak finale although at least one more thing seems set to unfold in this arc so honestly who knows

incidentally, bets on that: the smell of computer parts immediately made me think of the nobel, but the mechanical whine heard across the continent made me wonder if it could be palisade waking up (/being woken up). either way, it’s definitely getting to be alarm clock time, right?? (on the other hand maybe this is just motion activating all across palisade, but a bunch of motion factories just got taken down.)

it’s nice that the a-plot crew were having a fun heist though. cori deserves an alise breka mission

tragedy-ass podcast.

#fatt #palisade #palisade spoilers #fatt spoilers #friends at the table spoilers #hello world #fatt lb #:(((((

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spider-jaysart · 4 months

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Hi!! Can I ask Damian (and maybe Dick 🙏?) for the character ask game?

Thank you, take care <3

@zephyrwrites2

Damian

Favorite thing about them: I just love his whole personality loll. He's a crazy, funny little guy that I think is really cool

Least favorite thing about them: Nothing. Only when he gets really mischaracterized by official writers who don't understand him, which happens A LOT

Favorite line: "Father, I imagined you taller."

Brotp: Damian and Jon

Otp: Damijon

Notp: Batcest, any of them that have adults paired up with him, including the canon ones Mar'i x Damian, Cassie x Damian, and Cassandra x Damian

Random headcanon: He can do ballet and it's because it's something Talia taught him while he was growing up in the league and being trained to learn many other things. He's a skilled professional at it now because of this and also bonds with his sister Cass over it and will sometimes even join her in her dancing. He also tries teaching Jon too, which can become fun for them both, and his other friends sometimes as well whenever they get curious or don't actually understand it that much like they think they do. Damian also owns a pair of green ballet slippers, but usually keeps them put away in his closet to keep them safe and clean and only takes them out when he really does want to use them.

Unpopular opinion: Okay sooo, a lot of people believe that Talia's character just gets only more ruined because of Damian's existence or whatever, but I don't believe that at all. Damian may be her son and is big part of her life because of it, but his character itself has nothing to do with hers like that at all when it comes to hateful writers choosing to write her horribly and just as another evil, lunatic villain and whatever else. Some people even say that he stole her story, but he did grow up with her during those 10 years of his, so of course he's gonna have the same life she dealt with and is also gonna have to get through certain issues from it now too because of it. But the point is that if anyone's gonna get blamed for Talia's usual trash characterisation, it should be the writers who hate her, NOT Damian who has many writers of his own who don't even treat him that well or like him that much at all either just like with Talia. Trying to pick on him is never going to fix anything about her. If Talia's ever gonna get anything better that she deserves in comics and other things, it needs to be done by writers who actually have care about her character and don't have anything weird against her that just only causes bad intentions of messing her up and then THAT'S what will finally start doing justice for her. And this not meant as an argument towards anyone or whatever btw, this is just me stating my opinion and beliefs about the whole thing

Song I associate with them: Self love by Metro Boomin & Coi Leray (Mostly because even though Damian may always put on a very confident act and always seems so prideful of himself a lot of the times, he actually has a lot of insecurities underneath all of that and doesn't actually always think so great of himself as a person)

Favorite picture of them: Definitely this very beautiful panel of him ofc💖

I just LOVE the way Gleb Melinkov draws him and gives him his Arab features without holding any of it back as well! He even gives him long lashes (longer than Flatline's even, which I noticed while looking at another panel from this series!), which I really love too!!

Dick

Favorite thing about them: I really always liked his leadership style, especially in the Teen Titans 2003 cartoon, which I grew up with

Least favorite thing about them: Only when he's potrayed as a dumb, clumsy guy in some canon stories just to lift up other characters and put them in a bigger spotlight instead. It makes no sense because he's a professional acrobat and always has been that way since he was a little kid, so how could he ever be so trippy all over the place as if there are invisible banana peels getting in the way everytime?! And he is very smart, especially with all of the important experience he has from his many years of hero work, so he's not dumb either and if he was, he wouldn't have made it so far with this kind of life because of it or ever get much done like he did because he has to overly depend on others knowledge

Favorite line: "Titans Go!"

Brotp: Dick and Starfire, Beast boy, Raven, Cyborg (I know he's friends with many others too, but this is the group I grew up with and am more attached to, so they're my fave to see together)

Otp: Dickkory because they bring the best out in eachother and have so much love for one another too

Notp: DickBabs because I just don't think they really fit that well together at all and most times Barbara just makes Dick feel bad in a lot of ways with how she usually treats him in a romantic relationship, and that's not a healthy thing to deal with at all. And then there's also Batcest and Slade x Dick (which I don't even get at all because Slade is just such a horrible, gross and very toxic guy)

Random headcanon: Years ago, back when he would used to have long hair still, he one time had it tied up in a ponytail and then a villain chopped it off in half while fighting him. Dick was pissed and really kicked their butt for doing that

Unpopular opinion: People always think of Dick as the positive, sunshine guy and then there are the ones who get very mad about it and say that he's actually the angry, tough guy because him being super friendly and happy is just too "ooc". I don't listen to any of that stuff, because I believe that he's actually both. He IS a friendly guy with a warm, charming, humorous attitude that easily attracts others, and is very much an inspiration to many because of his positive, sunshine vibes as a great, hardworking hero, but none of it makes him dumb, weak or gullible, because he IS also the type who can become very serious and gets mad when he needs to be, also doesn't actually take bull from anyone, can be chaotic and crazy, works a LOT, is independent, does have a lot of intelligence and especially experience that should never be forgotten about just because he's nice, and also definitely has the determined mind to take care of things and get them done even though others will sometimes try to tell him what to do, but he doesn't actually listen because he's not the type to easily be controlled that way like a puppy would be and if he believes it's something that needs the attention and it's what should be done and no one else is doing it, then he will do it

Song I associate with them: Annihilate by Metro Bommin, Swae Lee, Lil Wayne & Offset (because it's about being fearless, embracing self strength and individuality, and becoming a much more independent person, and I think that totally fits Dick because he's not the type to fear much and hates being stuck under Batman's shadow and having independence is something that always had an important role in how Dick's life goes)

Favorite picture of them: Well, I just found this pic of him, which was done by Travis Moore

It's very nice and really shows the struggle he goes through as a hero a lot of the times. Also, I really always liked the way he draws Dick, because he doesn't just look like everyone else and isn't sharing same face syndrome with his brothers and Bruce either, it's just a look that's unique to only him and it fits him very well. It's the exact way I always imagine him looking like whenever I envision him in my mind, even the hairstyle that's given to him by this artist too!!!

Thank you for sending this ask, I enjoyed answering it! And you take very good care too!! :)

#damian wayne #dick grayson #spider-jaysart asks

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yuebings · 4 months

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fic writer meme

thank u @fruitdaze @uhuraisgay @cairoscene @englishsub for tagging me!

How many works do you have on Ao3?

44 currently! double 4s? during MY lunar new year? i gotta change that up quick

2. What's your total Ao3 word count?

315,042 words

3. What fandoms do you write for?

my most written-for fandom is mdzs, but i don't really write for it anymore...if you look at my ao3 profile u can kinda tell i'm a sporadic one-and-done type when it comes to fic hehe no one can predict where i'll go next. my latest fandom is jujutsu kaisen!

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

so you've been robbed by a musuem

the stone-filled sea

the family-dodging bathroom-dwellers association

and his wanting grows teeth

diving blind

it's like a wangxian sweep except for the last sambucky lol

5. Do you respond to comments?

i am trying to get better at that! sometimes i don't have the energy to go through and respond to every single one but trust me when i say that seeing the wonderful comments people leave truly makes my day

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

tbh i don't think i've ever written straight-up angsty endings (or at least the way i see straight up angst). every 'bad' ending has a ray of hope in it, or at least an acceptance that like...yes, this is the way it was meant to be, and to reject the outcome would be to reject everything that came before it. sometimes things were meant to go to shit. there was no other way to go. we were doomed but at least we loved each other. i will suffer but at least i can remember you. so on so forth.

with all that said, it's a toss up between the longest journey (di feijing & lei chun), or all things in pain (wen ning character study). 'angsty' endings, if only in the way i described above

7. What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

a lot of my happy endings aren't super-sweet happy endings per se, but rather a promise or hope that things will get better. idk what that says about me lol like maybe i have more interest in the "how to become happy" part than the actual happiness itself...? but ANYWAY i'd say the sappiest ending is i have is uhhhh feel like a brand new person (msr take edibles together) because 1) their mutual attraction is finally acknowledged 2) they're making out 3) they're high as balls. what's better than this

8. Do you get hate on fics?

not any time recently! i've rarely had negative comments before and all of them have been of such a ridiculous nature that my only response was like "lmfao ok"

9. Do you write smut?

nope! not yet, at least. maybe some time in the future i'll feel like it

10. Do you write crossovers? What's the craziest one you have written?

haven't written any, don't really read them either! i keep my blorbos locked up in their separate cages. siloed.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

yes! kind of. if this counts, a couple years ago someone on wattpad stole over 100 wangxian fics (including mine) from ao3 and reposted them onto their own account without credit. we got their account taken down tho so all is well...but this is why i say in my ao3 profile that i do not allow reposts. please tell me if u ever see my work reposted anywhere........

i've also come across a fic in a diff fandom that was VERY clearly "inspired" by one of mine (lifting certain scenes and lines beat for beat) and gave no credit. so there's that as well.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

yes! it's always an honor when someone wants to translate my work :)

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

nope! my creative process is so erratic that i feel like i'd be a nightmare to co-write with, so this is probably for the better

14. What's your all time favorite ship?

this is a hard question to answer. i don't have an ultimate favorite that always stays at the top of the pile, cuz my interests change all the time! right now i'm really enjoying platonic yuuji & megumi & nobara & gojo. in terms of what i go to most often when i want a comfort re-read...finnpoe.

15. What is a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

omg. you want a DEEP CUT? i have a wip for a rarepair in an already sparse fandom...yeongshin/seobi from kingdom on netflix (the historical korean zombie drama). i LOOOOVE that show i comfort re-watch it all the time. i love their bonded-thru-trauma-frenemies healer/warrior dynamic and i have this wip going for yeongshin getting bitten and seobi developing a zombification-reversal cure through sheer willpower and spite alone........there's maybe 2k written and i was relying on a season renewal announcement to motivate me enough to get the rest of it out but uh. fellow kingdom warriors if you're out there. i think we may be losing this battle............kingdom season 3 announcement save me..............

16. What are your writing strengths?

as a haver-of-siblings, i think i do general family dynamics pretty well! someone has told me in the past that i am good at packing meaning into very few words. i also think i'm good at angsty emotional beats (i sure like writing them, at least)

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

bro if there is any action scene in my work, writing it is like pulling teeth. what do you mean he's getting hit. what do you mean i have to think of an interesting way to describe punch #1 and punch #2 and punch #3. STOPPPPPPPP I CANT DO THIS.

in terms of technique i used to struggle with this thing where i NEED to perfect the writing i'm working on before i can move on. like i'd waste huge amounts of time rewriting a three sentence paragraph over and over and over again until it was perfect before i could move onto the next scene. i'm getting a lot better with that tho!

18. Thoughts of writing dialogue in another language in fics?

i've never done it myself, like, full on written-in-a-diff-lang dialogue, but i think it's cool as long as context clues/some form of translation is provided. and if proper research is done if the writer isn't a native speaker

19. First fandom you wrote for?

the man from uncle (2015). lol. napollya could have won in an alternate universe where armie h@mmer wasn't a piece of shit

20. Favorite fic you have written?

HOO. i gotta say it's my sambucky ghost fic the boy who cried ghost. it's by far my longest fic (even tho it isn't actually very long compared to others ive seen LOLLLL) and it took me AGES to write and ended up being quite personal!! part of the reason it took me so long to finish was bc i couldn't bear to write about sam struggling with grief/guilt when i was also going through something similar, so when i finally got around to writing the moment of catharsis i kinda felt like i was helping myself, too! which was a very interesting experience, and definitely served to lodge this fic in my heart forever and ever. it's not exactly popular but i'm proud of it :)

tagging @tantai-jin @bluecrystalrainingdaggers @vinelark and anyone else who wants to participate!

#BTW I AM EATING AN APPLE FRITTER. IF ANYONE EVEN CARES.#and my cat is squeaking very loudly rn. he is so cutie #yue.txt

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therealvinelle · 10 months

Note

Do you have a fic that you've written (or betaed with Muffin) that you feel best encapsulates the Aro/Carlisle dynamic? Maybe a better way to phrase it would be; do you have a favorite among them? Personally, I really like Leech in the Rain for the ridiculous drama between them. The whole "just friends but we have sex, are committed to each other, and live in the same house" thing was so funny and perfectly dramatic for them. Plus Carlisle's jealously is rare thing to see in fanfic. XD

The trouble with me is, I like when things are terrible between characters.

Based on that, Bleach on the Brain where Carlisle has to say, "Yes, he's an awful person and I'd be happy to spend my life never hearing his name again. I will also give up everything to defend his reputation" while Aro decides to himself, "You know, Carlisle is overrated, clearly not the person I thought he was and my infatuation has gone on long enough. It's over" and Marcus is left to stare at these two people who are somehow both the scorned lover, is golden. Leech in the Rain, where Carlisle gets what he wanted (Aro no longer interested) and cries because he can't handle it, is sugar on top. It's doubly funny because that sequel was supposed to be very serious, it was the sequel to a deeply serious fic after all, but then Aro and Carlisle just stole the show with their drama and break up so many times that they end the fic by breaking up one last time, this time by accident.

At least, Bleach and Leech were my favourites to write. Something about a 23k chapter of Aro being a scorned lover fills me with utter joy.

A Funny Thing Happened on the Way to London and A Little Night Music (both cowritten with @theoriginalcarnivorousmuffin, so is Leech) are going to be spectacular too, in the sense that things will be awful. Can't wait.

In terms of favourite dynamic while they're together, The Less Than Immaculate Conception (also cowritten with Muffin) actually gets a chance to show it, they are best friends and on perfect wavelength even before they get back together, and I imagine more along the lines of what you're asking for.

Nebuchadnezzar's Dream also gets a shoutout, in that it actually focuses on them, and so does Painting Red Madonnas by @theoriginalcarnivorousmuffin, in that they're completely platonic the entire time, just friends who were once something more, and then we get shit like Carlisle holding Aro's hand and looking him in the eye for the entirety of his phone call with Edward. Just friends being normal about each other.

#my fic #the carnivorous muffin #the carnivorous muffin fic #aro/carlisle

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skitariiposting · 2 months

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So I made a little split decision purchase the other day.

These are the Deathrippers from Warmachine. These were the last in stock on Amazon, and looking at most hobby shop sites I frequent, the last in stock I can find.

These little guys stole my heart the second I learned about them, and so as soon as I heard that they were no longer in print and were slowly being phased out, I immediately placed the Amazon order.

This is the first time I've ever acquired some Warmachine minis, so here's my little review of them!

These endangered bone doggos are great design wise, and I'm real sad that they aren't sticking around. I love the meshing of skulls and mechanical components in a subtle way. They aren't death guard's big biological nightmares, but they also aren't just regular ol' robots. I love the design choice to make them two-legged walker things instead of just another ol' four-legged dog thing, very creative! The porting on the necks is interesting, I'm unsure if the implications are that bones are magical and are causing it to overheat? Or maybe the machine runs hot and they want to keep the bones from getting melty? I dunno, but it's certainly neat looking!

4.5/5 on design!

Sadly, while the design is great, the mini quality leaves a little to be desired. First, the minis came in a little baggy instead of on sprues, which I have mixed feelings about.

On one hand, it's certainly convenient not to have to de-sprue the mini bits. On the other hand, these had some awful connection scars.

This was after I had scraped at them with a hobby knife for a bit, too. I'm likely going to have to pick up something to sand them down a bit. While I'm certainly calling the kettle here, I must say that these weren't taken off the sprues very well at all.

On top of that, the leg pins were slightly larger than the leg holes, which meant I had to do a mix of attempting to shove them in, scraping down the sides with my hobby knife and then rinse and repeat until they cooperated.

The instructions didn't help too much either. Figuring out how the top of the skull was supposed to fit onto the bottom took me a bit of pondering. The instructions just kinda had lines pointing to where they go.

Turns out you're supposed to attach the skull under a little overhang on the bottom jaw. The top piece has a rounded bit that fits in with a divot on the bottom piece, which... isn't what the instructions say to do.

Overall, I didn't have very much fun assembling these. Usually, (when I'm dealing with plastic, not resin minis) mini assembly is challenging, but at least a little fun. These were just a hassle.

Assembly and mini quality: 2/5

Despite that, I'm still planning on basing these and giving them the display quality treatment. In the off chance these end up becoming a collectors item or something (unlikely), it'd be nice to have some high-quality painted versions to show off/potentially sell.

Heck, since they're going out of print, I might look into making some molds of them to recast or see if I can get a really high-quality scan of them to 3D print myself! It'd be nice to not have these little goofballs fade into obscurity, I think they're my favorite thing to come out of Warmachine, if not the best thing to come out of Warmachine.

#skitposting #mini painting #miniature painting #hobby stuff #warmachine #deathripper

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myassbrokethefall · 8 months

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xf rewatch: ghost in the machine

This one was interesting to watch in light, obviously, of the current AI moment. Like, Deep Throat goes "how much do you know about ''''artificial intelligence''''?" and Mulder says "I thought it was only theoretical." You did? And then a minute later DT describes "a learning machine….a computer that actually THINKS." like hold up there fella! There's quite the gulf between THOSE two things but I suppose we don't really know that yet back now. Even Mulder saying "could someone have ''''''''hacked'''''''' into the system?" like this is the most out-there idea of all time, and instead of going, duh yes, hacking into the system is indeed something that someone could most certainly have done, Brad says "not your average phone phreak, that's for sure." remember phone phreaking?? neither do I because I'm old but I'm not THAT old. I heard an interesting podcast ep about it semi-recently though. Like you could make a noise with your VOICE that was the same pitch as some note the phone plays and it tricks it into connecting you to a long-distance line or something. neat stuff. anyway.

The computer stuff wasn't AS ridiculous as I remembered, but I also wonder if the farther we get from the time period the more I'm like, sure that seems like it could have been true back then I guess. At least, it seemed to more or less follow from a story perspective (but maybe that's what makes it so unrealistic in a tech way). Things that DID stick out to me included the following:

1. all those security cameras seem so RICKETY. They're all just stickin out there servo-ing jerkily around out in the air, just hit that shit down with a shovel and be done with it. Mulder dramatically covers one with a cloth and I was like, great now you only have to do that 9,000 more times in this building.

2. the superintelligent AI is courteous enough to jingle Scully up on her landline at 1:31 am to screech modem noises at her in order to give her a heads up that it's hacking into her computer at that moment (for what purpose? how is reading her reports on Mulder any help to it…ehh whatever).

3. Gordon/Gansa really running through the scifi "homages" with Conduit being very heavily Contact-by-Sagan-based and this one developing a voice solely so it could say things like "program……. EXECUTED GET IT" and "sorry Dave Brad, I can't do that."

4. I did certainly feel that the computer was "thinking" QUITE a lot more outside the box than seemed even marginally realistic (and per what I have read about machine learning, not that I am remotely close to being an expert on any of that). It sure got a LOT of info from filming people with its analog(?) security cameras and like, extrapolating from what it observed. The way it halted the elevator so Scully would call security and identify herself when she did so, so that it could learn her name and start googling (forgive me) her? I mean now that is some high-level strategizing. I feel Janelle Shane would not approve.

Other notes from my "notes":

Penny Northern as the lady congratulating Jerry on his profile that he stole from Mulder.

Scully's hair is slowly getting unfortunate. That swingy little Deep Throat floofy bob remains my favorite so far.

Nancy Spiller forensics instructor at the academy, "we used to call her the iron maiden!" Every time Scully mentions or interacts with a professor now I wonder if she fucked them. Heheh (EDIT: I just realized Penny Northern IS Nancy Spiller. !!! Still wonder if Scully fucked her)

This ep contains the iconique moment of Scully emphatically circling something on a computer monitor with a physical writing implement. (Also that whole mapping the voices together situation was very goofy and also pointless — if the system had a voice why wouldn't it be Brad's voice; he invented it.)

This is the first ep thus far that I've found Scully's Scullying kind of irritating. It seems very obvious that Brad did not do it so her being like "mulder I'm sorry you're so sad about your shitty friend dying that you can't think straight" feels condescending instead of sympathetic. "maybe it wouldn't be a bad idea if you talked to someone." "you're probably right." *leaves* "where are you going?" "to talk to someone." yeah you deserved that, sculls.

Failed mulderisms: "open sesame." I'm not offended by it or anything it's just so weak as to barely rise to the level of joke. Also, it has ALWAYS and I mean since the 90s grated on me that he scoffs "a politically correct elevator" because the elevator is being so outrageously, offensively woke as to… announce the floor numbers??? ok boomer!!! lord

Scully's got this book in bed with her. analyze as you will.

Pretty impressive how Mulder knows how to whip open a car hood and immediately rip the correct wire to get the horn to shut up.

Greatly enjoyed the This echo of them climbing stairs and yelling out numbers while doing so. Also, they are so young and athletic; sure they can go up 30 flights of stairs and then Scully is totally game to be hoisted into a ceiling vent and crawl around up there. J. Edgar's finest, at the top of their physical game!

I got so mad when Mulder goes "he apologized. in his own way" about Jerry. he literally did not even come close to apologizing! he said fuck you I stole your notes because you were gonna help me anyway so who cares, shut up, and then he stomped off. In no universe is that an apology of even the worst sort. Jerry sucks.

this house:

(literal photo of tv taken from couch, too lazy to even get up)

is ugly as shit, and I was making fun of it saying that it looked like a suburban convention center and bar mitzvah venue instead of a rich tech guy's sleek futuristic mansion and wondering if they filmed it at like, a Days Inn, but I was informed it was actually the home of a star Canucks player?? well he had terrible taste.

Finally, I remain FASCINATED with watching Mulder and Scully Work In An Office and interact with other people in the office and do office things like eat pastries off a cart! and hang out in what looks like the FBI archives! This set:

is so endearingly normcore-office to me. The library cart with archive boxes and also some other loose crap on it. All the haphazardly sized shelves from Staples with random mugs that no one wants so someone just sticks them on a bookshelf. Stacks of copy paper. A whole bunch of plants, some of which are dead, and also featuring at least 2 empty vases. The industrial tissue box. Someone did a very good job with this set dec is what I'm saying. Ok, the "INVOICES" folder is a little funny.

This is almost a workplace drama at this point in its life and I am a little bit obsessed with that. What is Fran gonna say about M&S smashing up that car. Smh.

#xf rewatch rambling #gitm

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jinmukangwrites · 2 months

Text

Mystery Upstairs - Chapter 7

Fandom: Spider-Man (MCU), Marvel, Daredevil

Rating: G

Warnings: mentions of panic attacks, mild cop violence, canon typical violence, Matt taking the Lord's name in vain, the author not knowing if taking the Lord's name in vain is something Catholics worry about, the author not knowing every detail on how the legal system works and will tell you to blame Foggy on getting anything wrong and not the author themself.

Ao3

Summary: Peter needed a place to stay after the universe forgot about him. Luckily, there's a complex in Hell's Kitchen that won't ask questions. It's only chance that Peter recognizes the face of the Lawyer upstairs.

Meanwhile, Matt cannot help himself from checking in on his new, young neighbor who couldn't be old enough to be out of highschool

----

"I think I don't know is becoming one of my least favorite things to hear, ever," Foggy said after a full 15 seconds of silence. Funnily enough, Foggy wasn't lying.

Matt had just finished explaining the basics of the whole Peter situation, telling most of the information that he knew—leaving out specifically that Peter had somehow reacted to May Parker's name, that wasn't something he couldn't give anything more than speculation on... speculation that also had a lot of I don't know's that would just make Foggy more angry with Matt.

Foggy, previously happy to see the conversation had switched to something he potentially had more opportunity to involve himself in—legal involvement was his favorite kind of involvement—had unfortunately started asking questions that mattered.

Where did Peter come from? Who were his parents? Why was he on his own? How old was he? Matt please tell me you at least know his last name. Ok, does anyone else find it weird his last name is Parker? That's a little weird right? Yes I know May Parker didn't have any living relatives but come on it's a little weird right? Matt you have that look on your face that you agree it's a little weird. What do you mean drop it?!

Matt sighed, and Foggy dropped it, though Karen's tense posture certainly suggested she hadn't, which was in character. He'd let her do her thing, her job was to snoop, he needed Foggy to focus on the legal things.

"Listen," Foggy continued, "people lose legal documents all the time. House fires, robbery, carelessness, runaways. Everything can be replaced with fee's and various proof of other kinds of identification — but what I'm hearing is that this kid has nothing and that's infinitely more difficult. The Blip made getting identification without proof of citizenship easier, yeah, but it's still difficult. How does he even have a place to stay?"

"He's paying in cash," Matt replied, thoughtfully. "Enough cash that any greedy landlord would happily brush some rules under the rug for."

"Drop the greedy adjective," Foggy waved his hand, "that's all landlords."

"Point stands."

"How'd he even get that cash?" Karen asked, intrigue lacing her breath. "If he doesn't have a job, let alone a way to legally be hired for a job..."

"Probably stole it from his parents," Foggy suggested. "Or robbed a bank. Or he had a job, lost it, got everything liquidized before booking it here to his current situation."

"That's a lot of allegations," Matt sighed, leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms across his chest—eyebrows lowered so they brushed against his glasses. "There has to be a way to help him out. People show up out of nowhere all the time."

"We've helped people get their lives back before, the Blip gave us plenty of work," Karen said.

Foggy reminded her before Matt could, rubbing his chin and pacing slightly. "So many people needed their identities back that it was easy to help them. All you had to do really was say you're a lawyer and your client needs a social security card pretty please and the government would give you it just so they could get to the millions of other requests."

Foggy knew more about this line of legal work than Matt did. Foggy liked to help everyone, while Matt usually buried his head into the ones deemed unhelpable.

"The processes for the Blip still exist, I thought?" Matt didn't mean to make it sound like a question. Or well, it sounded like a question to himself, the rise of his voice was just barely caught, for his ears alone. "It hasn't been that long."

"Yes, but long enough they're getting strict again with the process. Plenty of people have jumped onto the opportunity to get documents that they legally shouldn't have. Power to them, really, but it's made it so they'll need more proof — testaments of friends and family, good lawyers, dental records, anything they can get their hands on to prove that you one: was a legal citizen pre-Blip, and two: proof that you blipped at all. Did he Blip?"

"I don't know." Foggy rolled his eyes. "I'm sure the process could be easier with the right lawyers, regardless," Matt suggested.

Foggy sighed, catching the hint. The sigh alone answered the unasked question on whether or not Foggy would help Matt with this. "Just tell me why you want to help so bad, and then I'll get on more research."

Matt smiled. "He's... interesting. Everything about him is a question. Besides, he's a good kid. I'd hate to sit back and watch him fall into homelessness just because of a few missing IDs."

That, and the fact that there were irresistible puzzles to the kid that he didn't mention because of the aforementioned speculation. What did Peter go out and do at night? Why had he reacted so strongly to Matt's phone call with Karen?

"Alright," Foggy said, resigned. "I'll get on it. Just promise me this isn't going to lead us down a huge rabbit hole of the kind of shit you deal with."

Karen scoffed. "Don't make him promise anything he can't keep."

The mood lightened with the semblance of a plan. The three of them settled in to discuss the next steps. Karen would continue to dig into May Parker, Foggy would look into getting IDs for a kid that didn't governmentally exist, and Matt would return home to a fixed embosser and win the looming lawsuit.

-o0o-

Peter blinked as the scream of sirens outside pulled him out from his deep concentration.

Ambulance sirens, two cops, a firetruck...

He shook his head and leaned back in his chair, stretching his arms above his head with a yawn. The time on the oven read nearly midnight and the embosser on his table was just a few screws left of being repaired.

Or, temporarily repaired. Repaired enough to print Mr Murdock's notes and give Peter time to scramble for something to replace the bit's that'll inevitably break again the next time Mr Murdock needed things printed.

The sirens traveled away from him, angry and wailing. They were traveling deeper into Hell's Kitchen, and he desperately scolded himself before his curiosity could even bubble up and wonder where they were going.

Unfortunately, pushing down that curiosity just made him remember the sounds of the sirens that followed May's death...

Maybe he should take a break. Get out of Hell's Kitchen and punch some bad guys. He could tell Mr Murdock he stopped working on the embosser to sleep, so he didn't need to worry about getting paid more than what he could stomach.

The decision was easily made. He noted the time, determined to not get paid for this hour, then scrambled for the suit that he'd stuffed inside his bag.

-o0o-

The fact that it felt good to deck someone across the face probably should have worried Peter, but he felt too good to think about it.

This was doing something. Peter Parker found himself inexplicably erased, trapped in an ocean of isolation, drowning in lies that he couldn't even begin to tell the truth about. But Spider-Man? That guy didn't have to worry about that. That guy could make a difference—a memorable difference—every night. Every victim he helped.

It was a run-of-the-mill theft. Some old man had decided nighttime was the perfect time for a stroll, and some younger spry had thought it was the perfect opportunity to get himself a few extra dollars. The thief had been aggressive, not gun aggressive, knife aggressive, and Spider-Man couldn't have that.

"Woah, dude, watch where you're stabbing that thing, could take an eye out!"

A duck-and-weave around the swinging knife was all it took for Peter to close in. The tense of his arm was familiar, and the impact of his fist was true. He wasn't the best trained at knife-to-hand combat, but most of his problems could just be solved by being really hard to hit combined with the fact he had a bit more strength to use than everyone else.

The thief cried out, crashing back onto his backside and unwittingly throwing his knife to the side in favor of grabbing his smarting jaw.

Something, somewhere deep down, was disappointed that the fight wouldn't last more than a single duck-weave-punch, though the majority of Peter felt pleased with himself. He webbed up the jerk, grabbed the snatched wallet, then returned it to the grateful old man with a smile that creased the eye lenses of his mask.

"Thank you so much," the old man said, shaking Peter's hand. "You're that spider kid, aren't you?"

"Spider-Man," Peter corrected—that something somewhere wincing a bit.

Peter was erased. Spider-Man wasn't. Not all the way. People still knew Spider-Man. J. Jonah Jameson still ranted about him on the news. People recognized the colors he wore, and people tended to thank him by his superhero name.

The only thing about Spider-Man that got torn up by the fabric of the universe was Peter. Anyone who had known him as both identities no longer did, every interaction with Peter being replaced by unnameable recognition or a complete lack of memory in the first place. To what extent? Peter had no idea. He hadn't tried to seek anyone out who had known him as both, well, besides Mr Murdock, but that wasn't exactly on purpose. He also didn't count visiting MJ’s workplace that one time.

Besides, if Mr Murdock was anything to go by, anyone who worked with Spider-Man mask-off didn't remember a single conversation; wrapped up in a mystery of how they knew May Parker that they'll never get the answers to.

He wasn't going to try and see if MJ or Ned or Happy or Doctor Strange were any different.

Besides, he had no idea what would happen if he did regain a relationship with these people. Would the fabric of reality tear itself apart again? He'd love nothing more than to see Peter 2 and 3 again, but he couldn't risk their villains following them through again. What if they came for Peter 1 again? What if they went after his home, blew up the complex, and killed Mr Murdock in the process? What if they went after MJ? Ned? What if Doctor Strange couldn't fix it next time?

He squished that something somewhere further down, refusing to follow those thoughts deeper while he was literally shaking the hand of someone he'd just saved.

Feeling forcefully light and happy, Spider-Man swung through familiar neighborhoods, wishing just a little that he could take off the mask and feel the wind go through his hair. When he passed the busy streets, people pointed up and called out in excitement; when he passed over shady alleyways, shady people quickly split off. Sometimes, his presence was the only thing needed to discourage crime. It made him feel great, like Batman or something. Batman if he was cool and had a great sense of humor.

The night passed on, and almost nothing went wrong. No pooches were screwed. It was nearing sunrise and the semblance of rush hour had begun with the first few cars. He mentally planned the path back to his apartment. He almost got on that, until something shouted at him to stop.

He had already been stopped, mind you, standing awkwardly in a quiet alleyway looking at the street names because none of the buildings nearby were big enough to get a great enough view of the city. But his senses still went off, and someone authoritative commanded him to stop, and something clicked that sounded suspiciously like the safety on a pistol.

He swiveled his body around, frowning at the sight of the cop that stood at the other end of the alleyway, knees shaking and face twisted in confliction.

Uh. Okay? Peter wasn't exactly new to cops showing aggression to him. He had plenty pull their weapons on him at the beginning of his superhero career, and plenty more after Mysterio outed him and accused him of his murder.

But when he had joined the Avengers and fought Thanos... cops didn't do that. He was above their pay-grade, the FBI tended to want to deal with Spider-Man instead, but couldn't because of the mountains of paperwork they'd have to go through. The mountains of paperwork Mr Stark had made himself to make sure no national or international forces could get to him unless he committed an actual crime. Sure, yeah, the Mysterio stuff was an actual crime in their eyes and got Peter in alotta trouble, but after erasing his identity, everyone had gone back to not bothering him.

"Uh, you okay, officer?" He asked.

"Spider-Man," the cop said, a bead of sweat rolled down his forehead, and Peter frowned deeper as the cop didn't even really talk to him there. He had one hand on the pointed gun, the other at the walk-y at his jugular. "It's Spider-Man."

Peter took a step forward and the cop freaked. "Hands up! Get down on your knees! Y-You're under arrest."

The cop really didn't sound like he wanted to be saying those words.

"I'm sorry? What did I do?" Peter slowly got down on his knees, not quite willing to freak out the cop more yet but confident he could swing away if anything escalated as they often did with freaked out cops.

"We have a warrant for your arrest," the officer said, not approaching, he was afraid to. Peter stayed silent and still, the information hitting him in the gut.

But... but the police couldn't arrest him? They didn't have a reason to?

The cop returned to his walk-y, asking for backup, telling his location.

"What are the accusations?" Peter asked, fighting to keep his voice steady. "I'm protected, you have to have a reason."

"Orders from above," the cop said, "I don't know any more... I'm sorry. All the stations across the city have been ordered to take you in."

Well, at least the cop genuinely sounded sorry.

"Orders from who?"

"Some DODC agent," the cop said, his fingers trembling.

Alright.

He heard sirens in the distance and Peter made the quick decision that he should probably scatter; he really didn't fancy getting arrested to sate his curiosity.

He whipped his arm out, shooting with superhuman accuracy to knock the cop's gun out of his hand and stick it to a nearby wall. The man started shouting, hassling to pull out some other weapon, but Peter was already swinging away, his heart to his throat.

-o0o-

Peter's leg bounced as he sat at his kitchen table, staring at the TV as JJJ happily announced that Spider-Man had refused a warrant for his arrest just hours before, which was obvious proof of his criminal and dangerous behavior.

He was going on and on, clearly very happy with the development, and Peter would love nothing more than to turn off the TV and have a very big panic attack, but before JJJ started talking, they had announced that some agent was going to guest on the broadcast and explain more of the situation.

It took fifteen minutes for JJJ to invite the agent on, and when he did, Peter's eyebrows shot up to his hairline.

P. Cleary.

"Fu-"

-o0o-

"I can say for everybody that it's about damn time the DODC is taking actions against that masked menace."

"Spider-Man has been going under the radar for too long," the agent replied. Cleary. Jameson had introduced the agent a few minutes before. Matt wished he had some sort of visual description of the guy, he sounded like an asshole and he was willing to bet his nicest cane that he looked like one too. "While the Sokovia Accords have been repealed, order is still required when dealing with enhanced individuals. Spider-Man has been protected under the good will of Tony Stark, which at the time, was all the we needed to allow Spider-Man the freedom to remain anonymous in his work even after Stark's death. However, in light of recent incidents at the London Bridge as well as the Statue of Liberty, that protection has been called into question. After an investigation, we've found that the protection documents from Tony Stark granting Spider-man's right to be a vigilante as well as work with the Avengers have been... corrupted.

"Until we can meet with Spider-Man or a credible source that can vouch for him to redraft his order of protection, we regret to announce to the public that Spider-Man is to be considered dangerous, and should be avoided. His recent interaction with a local officer—attacking the officer and resisting arrest—proves that what we're doing is for the safety of the people."

"And why would you announce this great news on the Daily Fix?"

Cleary shifted. Forgive him Lord, but Christ on a cross this guy radiated smugness even through the television waves. It's a good thing Matt hadn't caught the attention of the DODC, people tended to look at louder vigilante's before they set their sights on Hell's Kitchen.

"To send Spider-Man a message before things get more messy for him. Spider-Man, turn yourself in, make this easy for everyone. We just want to get to the bottom of things, and the more you resist, the messier things will get—"

A voice message from Peter vibrated his phone, pulling his attention from his morning routine. Sure, listening to the news while drinking caffeine wasn't exactly the best routine for his anxiety, but hey, you gotta do what you gotta do to keep sane. He navigated his phone to click play on the message, a frown working its way onto his lips.

"Hey Matt, it's Peter, uh, Parker, you gave me your number earlier? I'm just letting you know I finished your embosser and I can give it back whenever. Just so you know I only worked on it for, like, five hours—hah—but you really don't have to pay me or anything. It's okay, like seriously. Anyways just let me know when you're free, or pop by whenever, or, uhm, whatever. Thanks, kay, bye. Yeah."

Well that would have lifted his spirits if Peter didn't sound like he was trying not to cry that entire message. Faintly, he could hear the very same Daily Fix broadcast in the background of the message as he replayed it and listened just a little harder.

Concern filtered into Matt's brain, creasing his eyebrows and the smell of his coffee no longer soothed his wretched soul. He broadened his senses, finding Peter in his studio, heart racing, more than normal, and breath barely under control.

"Stupid," he was whispering to himself, "what if he actually comes down?! Stupid-"

Matt sighed, standing up and abandoning his coffee before turning off the TV. The guest agent had left already. He wanted to hear more about Spider-Man, the name struck familiarity to him in a way he couldn't put his finger on, but the kid downstairs demanded his attention a little more.

He definitely sounded like he needed a friend.

He grabbed his glasses, cane, jacket, enough cash for seven hours of pay, and sent Peter a message announcing that he'll be down soon. Peter received it, took a deep breath, turned off the TV, and wiped—by the sound of it combined with a salty smell—tears from his eyes and cheeks.

Lord, give Matt strength.

#Peter Parker #Spider-Man #marvel #MCU #daredevil #Matthew Murdock #fanfiction #jin writes #AO3

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bidoofenergy · 2 months

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writing patterns tag game

tagged by @quaranmine thank youuu

Rules: List the first line of your last 10 (posted) fics and see if there's a pattern!

1. spare a crumb (i'll take it)

Jimmy may have the ears and the tail and the nickname, but Tango knows he is the loyal dog in this pair.

2. safety pins

If Nico thought too long about why he was where he was, he'd probably go crazy—for real this time.

3. we may still die for other things

Teo couldn’t breathe.

4. maybe tonight i'll get this story right

Kei saw the team’s roster before he even applied to the damn job.

5. Jimmy Solidarity and the Pantry of Self-Discovery

Folded up in his wallet, on a sticky note he stole from a classmate, Jimmy has two lists that he can never let see the light of day.

6. dungeon master's praise

“You were incredible, babe.” Tango whispers in between nips on Jimmy's neck.

7. all bark and no bite

“Aww, puppy,” Grian cooed.

8. tangled in her love

“Wait, wait,” Pearl says frantically and they both freeze.

9. reward

The rock glows and showers treasures for Jimmy.

10. fake kissing

Jimmy finally steps into the night air, still excitedly talking about his plans for tricking Skizz.

tbh opening lines are the part i edit the least. i usually feel the most confident about them. also half of my latest fics are drabbles and idk if that truly makes a difference but i think it does, at least while im writing. the real pattern is that jimmy is mentioned in half of these!! someone's clearly my favorite lmao

out of these, my favorite line is either spare a crumb or pantry of self-discovery. but also maybe tonight has a really good opening paragraph, if i do say so myself jdjdjsjsn

no pressure tagging: @canarydarity @baronetcoins @kyleknight @kiwiana-writes @officialgleamstar and anyone else that wants to join!!

#AND NUMBER 7 HAS JIMMY TOO WTF #mans will NOT let me live smh #tagged #my fic #also very funny having reward and spare a crumb both on here lthats the same fic lol

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iamstartraveller776 · 5 months

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20 Questions for Fic Writers

Stole this from @curator-on-ao3. (Thank you for the open tag!)

1. how many works do you have on Ao3?

111, not including the dozens of ficlets and short one-shots I've posted as separate chapters in fic collections.

2. what's your total Ao3 word count?

614,875 and counting.

3. what fandoms do you write for?

I've written for: Star Trek (TOS/AOS/DISC), Star Trek: Enterprise, Labyrinth (1986), Marvel, Once Upon a Time, Shadow and Bone, and LOTR: The Rings of Power.

4. what are your top five fics by kudos?

The Princess and the King (Labyrinth, Jareth/Adult Sarah) A little girl wanders into the Underground and Jareth's life is forever changed. [3,467 words]

Text Alert (MCU, Loki/Jane Foster) Late one night, Jane found herself in an online chat room for Harvard alums. She and the user youweremadetoberuled hit it off and began a strange, anonymous friendship. [16,129 words]

Intoxicated (Star Trek TOS/AOS/DISC, Sarek/Amanda Grayson) Amanda Grayson sets out to make nice with Sarek, the infuriating Vulcan ambassador to Earth. Her future career prospects are on the line, after all. There's only one problem: the ambassador isn't quite himself. [9,034 words]

Drunk Dial (Labyrinth, Jareth/Adult Sarah) Five times Sarah drunk-called the Goblin King. One time he sobered her up. [7,138 words]

Touch (MCU, Loki/Jane Foster) The first touch was her fist to his jaw, and she thought the last was when he pushed her out of the way of a Dark Elf bomb—until he showed up years later with a proposition she had trouble turning down. [4,014 words]

5. do you respond to comments?

Yes, absolutely. That's my favorite part about writing fic—being able to interact with readers. Sometimes I'm slow in replying, but I promise I always will.

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

I have a few stories with unhappy endings, but I think this one is the most gut-wrenching read: Just a Dream (Labyrinth, Jareth/Adult Sarah) He can have her in their shared dreams, but is it enough? Obsession can be a dangerous thing. [1,644 words]

7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

I tend to mostly write happy endings—at least for stories that have a proper ending. I think there would be too many to list here.

8. Do you get hate on fics?

It's happened infrequently. I just delete the comments. I'm too old and tired for that kind of manufactured drama.

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

No, not really. I mean I have a few—very few—M-rated stories, but it's pretty much all feelings with pretty words and metaphors. The tension is my favorite part. When it comes to resolving it, I tend to be a "pan to the sky" writer.

10. Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest one you’ve written?

I have written a couple. The zaniest? When Fairy Tale Meets Mythology (OUAT, Captain Swan; MCU, Loki/Jane Foster) While searching for Henry, Emma and Hook happen upon a strange couple in Neverland. [1,209 words]

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not that I know of.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

I was asked once, but I don't know if they followed through. I have had someone turn one of my stories into a podfic, though.

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

Yep. I'm a fandom old. I hail from the days of doing fic Round Robins and fandom Big Bangs.

14. What’s your all time favorite ship?

The USS Enterprise NCC 1701 D, though the Jolly Roger comes in as a close second.

15. What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

The companion fic to Three Months on Vulcan where we follow the escapades of Soval and Amanda Cole as she works as his assistant. I was going to call it Lost in Translation. But my drive to write it has fizzled out over the years. I just don't have it in me.

16. What are your writing strengths?

Fleshed out characters, humor, pretty prose, banter.

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

F I N I S H I N G. Seriously, that's my goal for 2024: to finish at least 3 of my languishing multi-chapter fics. Also, I want to improve my longfic game. I tend to rush through the plot.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?

I've done it, though I try not to overdo it. And I try to make it easy for the reader to understand from context so they don't have to constantly jump to end notes for the translations. I've been super fortunate to have a native-speaking fandom friend help me with Norwegian for some of my MCU stories. I've used Google Translate for Icelandic, and the Vulcan Language Database. Trying to write in Quenya is the worst, though. Never again! *gives Tolkien a side-eye*

19. First fandom you wrote for?

Star Trek: Enterprise

20. Favorite fic you’ve written?

That's like asking me to choose a favorite child. How about one for each fandom:

Through the Dark Mirror Series (Star Trek: Enterprise, Trip/T'Pol) Stories that take place before, during, and after the events of the "In a Mirror, Darkly" episodes. [14,633 words and counting]

Pertinacious Wills (Labyrinth, Jareth/Adult Sarah) Regency AU Sarah Williams’s life is turned upside down when her widowed father remarries. At the same time, a new lord has taken over the Labyrinth who may be the most insufferable man Sarah has ever known. But as she is thrown in, quite against her will, with him and his kind, she discovers mysteries that call to question everything she thought she knew. [46,963 words and counting]

Blood for Blood (MCU, Loki/Jane Foster) He missed his chance by a heartbeat—the difference between life and death. Now, the mantle of savior rests on Loki’s shoulders. Will the mercurial God of Mayhem rise to the challenge of rescuing the nine realm from eternal darkness? [4,330 words]

The Worth of a Broken Soul (OUAT, Outlaw Queen) As a Keeper of the Watch, Robin hasn't been a mortal's personal guardian in centuries, but he's been tasked with a special case. Regina Mills is full of hate and anger, her aura so black it's difficult to find any hope left inside of her. Robin is determined to succeed in his assignment, even if it requires unconventional methods, but drawing her closer to Redemption is changing him as well. Will he pay any price for her salvation? For the salvation, too, of the lost souls he's unwittingly collected along the way? [14,407 words and counting]

The Nightwalker Chronicles Series (OUAT, Captain Swan) Emma Swan is an expert private investigator, but recently she's witnessed things that even she cannot explain. The only one willing to help her safely navigate the underbelly of the city in search of answers is the man who saved her life, a mysterious artist with secrets of his own. [6,448 and counting]

I haven't written much for either Shadow and Bone or The Rings of Power, and I don't feel like I have proper favorites for them.

Yes, I know I'm not listing any of my comedies, dear friend who knows who they are. That's because they aren't *my* favorites.

Tagging: Are you a fic writer? Consider yourself tagged by me—if you want to play, that is.

#tag game #questions for fic writers #this was fun

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mtr1234 · 3 months