#at the end of the day i think childhood brain considered this movie SO MUCH more scary than it actually was

[ghostfaceaddams]

ibold | chapter one

summary: The five survivors of the 2022 Woodsboro massacre are now in New York City moving on with their lives or trying to at least.

warnings: cussing and a moment of violence in a flashback, that's all, I think.

word count: 3,060.

a/n: This is my baby so I hope everyone likes it! Feel free to pick an actress as Cairo or just have your own image of her in your mind or pretend you're Cairo; whatever makes the reading experience better for you guys.

series masterlist | next part

She was the most beautiful human being Cairo had ever seen in all of her eighteen-and-a-half years of being alive on earth. Living in New York City, you see a shit ton of people every day and that is literal. Hypothetically, you see a million people in a year; at stores, on walks, as extras in a tv show or movie, etc.

Out of all of those people, no one even compared to the raven-haired girl across the room. She was short, but Cairo could always spot her no matter the crowd. Most people teased her for her height, but Cairo genuinely found it endearing. Her smile was brighter than quasars, constantly leaving Cairo on her knees and rendering her useless. She had dimples accenting her marble, smooth cheeks. It was such a funny thing to Cairo, that dimples were biologically considered imperfections, but non-scientists find them alluring. All of the freckles kissing across her face were the stars in Cairo’s galaxy, the girl being Cairo’s revolving world. She had a unique voice that wasn’t like anyone else’s. There was a rasp to the edge of her words; sometimes the rasp was thickly coated, like when she woke up in the morning or was running out of breath or got excited. It could be deep, but not Sophia Bush deep. No matter what, it was always soft and pleasant sounding. A lot of people agreed with Cairo that listening to the other girl’s voice was calming, a remedy for anxiety even. Her eyes were big but not the repugnant kind. They were a deep brown that could light up and yet still remain mysterious. Her eyes were her most innocent feature and the ones that got her everything she wanted. She wasn’t just hot though. No. Her brain could remember the entire dialogue to The Babadook and graduated at the top of her class. She was very perceptive in a mostly subtle way. Snark was a fabulous hobby of hers and her heart was the most golden heart that ever shone. Selflessness and loyalty were the foundations of her persona, of who she was; what made her her. Everyone tripped over themselves at her natural, graceful beauty. Half of them were privy enough to see what she was about on the inside and fall head over heels for her. Cairo was definitely the latter. So was Chad. Cairo couldn’t blame him for falling for her childhood best friend. It’d be concerning if he didn’t. That didn’t mean it didn’t hurt any less to watch him give heart eyes to the girl she was in love with. ‘She could never be yours anyways. You know that.’ Falling in love with your best friend was the worst form of emotional pain imaginable.

Cairo despised the media and pop culture that romanticized the trope, especially the ones with a happy ending. Happy endings were overrated and unrealistic, especially when it came to “unrequited love.” It either ends up being requited, or they find someone else. That wasn’t always the case though. For eighteen years, Tara had only ever looked at Cairo with platonic respect and adoration.

Ever since she was a teen, Cairo tried to find someone else to crush on and hoped for someone to want her. The last part never happened until this year. She was still out of luck in the crushing department. At the end of the day though, as much as Cairo felt like she was suffocating, she was happy for Chad and Tara. They were both her friends that she cared about and loved deeply. She’d never risk their happiness for her own, especially when it wasn’t likely to lead to happiness for her. Cairo winced as she sipped the awful beer in the red solo cup. It didn’t matter how hard she tried with alcohol; it just didn’t fancy her like it did the others. “Hey, Roe.” Cairo didn’t need to look up to know that it was Quinn who was standing beside her. Quinn was the only one who ever called her that, her own personal nickname for Cairo.

Everyone else called the brunette girl by her full name - or Cai - and teachers called her by her last name - Miss Reed - or Cairo. She really hated her name sometimes. Well, most of the time if she was being honest. “Hey, Quinn.” The ginger got to work with grabbing two red solo cups and picking up one of the glass bottles of alcohol. Cairo bit her lip and scanned the packed room for any sign of her roommate or their other two friends. Cairo turned back to Quinn to shout over the music, “Where’s Anika?” Quinn was grinning when she spoke, her eyes glittering intoxicatingly. “She’s trying to help Ethan score a date.” “Key word trying.” Cairo teased earning a chuckle from the other girl. “Mindy is having fun watching, and I am getting drinks for myself and that cute boy waiting for me.” Cairo turned to follow the direction Quinn had pointed to with her eyes. The boy looked to be the same height as Quinn with curly hair & a stubble that made him seem like a fuckboy, but his boyish smile and awkward wave was contradicting. The brunette nodded her head. She took a step closer to the ginger and leaned in close so she could be heard. “I think I’m going to leave, maybe check on Sam on the way back.” Before the friend group had rallied together and ventured off to this party, the Carpenter sisters had gotten into it...again.

The arguing between the two sisters was becoming more and more frequent as time was going on. Everyone was on edge, wanting to say something to ease the tension but not knowing what to do or knowing if it was their place to even do or say anything. The twins and Cairo worried more than anyone, having grown up with the two sisters. Tara used to listen to Cairo and the others when they had something to say. Especially Cairo. Nowadays, Tara only ever listened to herself and only did what sounded pleasing to her. Guess Chad sounded especially pleasing to the girl. Cairo was really trying not to think about that though. About any of it really. “What? Come on, you said you were going to try!” Quinn lightly smacked the back of her hand against Cairo’s bicep. The brunette chuckled halfheartedly and raised her eyebrows. “And I did, now I’m leaving.” Cairo knew that if she didn’t move her ass at that very second, Quinn was going to showcase a frown and beg Cairo to stay “for herself and not me.”

(It was true, Quinn was doing this all to help Cairo take her mind off of the girl she couldn’t have. But it was becoming too much for Cairo.) Quinn was already in the midst of tilting her head to the side and parting those talented lips. But Cairo was quicker. She was quicker than anyone at everything, except for telling Tara her feelings. Which was precisely why she was in this predicament. “I’ll see you later, Quinn.” Quinn sighed but let Cairo give her a hug and turn to head out the door. It wasn’t until she was down the sidewalk and turning into the quad on campus that Cairo finally felt like she could breathe. She dunked her head down and placed her hands on her hips. She couldn’t stop seeing Tara with Chad.

Or with Amber. She had thought that watching Tara kiss or hold hands with Amber was painful, to watch Tara’s eyes light up whenever she saw or talked about Amber, having to encourage Tara to make a move and smile for her, she thought all of that hurt.

But this…this was so much worse. Cairo almost wished she was back in high school, watching the two girls parade around. Walking in on Chad and Tara, that had been worst of all.

It was her own fault, she should’ve knocked a second time and waited for an okay. But she could tell something was wrong with Tara and she had to get to the bottom of it before she permanently lost her mind. There were too many days spent canceled and nights spent on read. It wasn’t like Tara, not even when she was with Amber. She had left the apartment, bolting down the stairs and struggling to hold the bile in before making it outside. There wasn’t any shame in her body as she wiped her mouth with her sleeve and stood up. They lived in New York City, some girl puking on the sidewalk was the least weird thing citizens saw. Cairo went back to the dorm that night crying. Anika was staying at Mindy’s dorm, which was only down the hallway, so she didn’t have to worry about being bombarded with questions.

She spent the rest of the evening into later afternoon, hibernating under her covers with her earbuds in and curtains drawn. She was in the shower, changing out of her clothes from the night before finally, when Anika made it back. They spoke briefly through the curtain and then Anika was gone, off to hang out more with her girlfriend and their friends.

So, Cairo just dressed in whatever she found and got back into bed with a trashcan nearby. Having to pretend for another month like she didn’t know they were together was utter torture for Cairo.

Every time she was around Chad she felt nauseated, and she couldn’t look at Tara without her throat starting to hurt from suppressing sobs. At parties, she got blackout drunk so that she didn’t have to remember them being touchy with one another. She stopped texting Tara as much and didn’t ask to hang out anymore. For two months, Cairo had been smiling in the presence of the couple and drinking herself to sleep. She was getting tired of the drinking if she was honest. Being hungover and heartbroken was the most horrific combo.

The past few days she had been lying in bed with her hood blocking her from the rest of the world and earbuds drilled in. She hated how much of a baby she was about this whole thing. Hell, this felt worse than all of the stabs she received last year.

(Or the single one she received at eight years old.) Or worse than the betrayal of her older sister who she had idolized. “Tara will never be yours, Cairo.” “She doesn’t have to be, as long as she isn’t yours.” Then she headbutted Amber, sending the girl staggering backwards. There were three gunshots that sang Cairo to sleep.

When she woke up, Sidney was there. She didn’t see Tara until the next day. Since then, she hadn’t seen Tara a whole lot. She figured that the young Carpenter girl blamed her for the Ghostface attacks or wished that she hadn’t made it out alive.

Or maybe she cared more about Chad than Cairo. She wasn’t really sure. All Cairo was ever sure of anymore was that she missed her cousin Sidney. Sidney had wanted to adopt Cairo after being orphaned, but authorities thought it was best for her to stay with a closer relative, her father. He had no problem signing his rights over to Kirby three years later when she finally turned 21 years old.

For reasons that didn’t make sense, he didn’t want to give Cairo over to Sidney. Cairo thinks he just reached his limit and saw Kirby as the closest scapegoat. “You still want me?” “Of course I do. I might have adopted you, but you’ll always be my little sister, and I’ll always take care of you. Okay?” Cairo blew out a raspberry and started walking in the direction of the Carpenter-Quinn household.

It took two knocks in two intervals for Sam to open the door.

Cairo stood on the other side, twirling her earbuds around; to the left and to the right, raveling the cord around her finger and unraveling it. She immediately dropped her hand, holding her earbuds with both hands, when the door opened. Cairo grinned mischievously and cocked her head to the side. “Hello, Cute Boy.” Said man chuckled softly and smiled charmingly at the shorter girl. Cairo kept on smiling as the man turned back to Sam, who looked rather uncomfortable at the whole situation. “I’ll call you later.” The stranger said. Sam nodded her head and lifted her tense lips up. “Okay.” “Okay.” The man said, still smiling dreamily at Sam. Cairo had to duck her head down and scratch her cheek as the man walked by so he wouldn’t see her cheesing. She watched him walk down the stairs, turning back to look at Sam at the top step before continuing.

She raised her dusty brown eyebrows at Sam with the same antagonizing grin in place. “Cute Boy from across the hall, huh?” Sam scoffed and rolled her eyes. Her reluctant smile contradicted her previous actions.

All Cairo could do was laugh. “Get in.” Sam nudged her head behind her. Cairo did as she was told, plopping herself down on the couch. Sam gave the brunette a reprimanding look, but it didn’t succeed its message.

The younger girl had her hands clasped behind her head and was smiling gorgeously. It was the smile that made her gray-brown eyes sparkle and had Sam wishing for a different life for the girl. Sam smiled and crossed her arms in that sisterly manner of hers. “What are you doing here, Cairo?” The brunette shrugged nonchalantly. But her downcast eyes and moving feet said she was uncomfortable. “Just came to check on you.” When she flicked her gaze up, she saw Sam looking to the side and nodding her head. She released her bottom lip and ran a hand through her inky black hair as she descended on the couch.

The older girl smacked Cairo’s shoes prompting her to raise her feet. She promptly set them back down on Sam’s lap afterwards. Sam cupped the top of the girl’s bottom legs and turned to look at her.

Cairo no longer had her hands behind her head but clasped carefully on her stomach. She was looking at Sam like she was the older sister or the mom, patiently waiting for the girl to speak and waiting to catch Sam if need be. “She’s not dealing with this, Cairo.” The gray-brown eyed girl sighed empathetically, her head nodding along. “Does she talk to you about it?” Sam asked. Cairo glanced down at her lap and shifted. “She doesn’t talk much to me anymore.” It wasn’t like Tara had just dropped Cairo.

They stilled texted a lot and there were frequent phone calls. But ever since the attacks in Woodsboro last year, Tara had been keeping her distance from Cairo. When they did talk or see each other, it was as if everything was the same as it had been before. Ever since Chad and Tara had finally come forward with their relationship (even though it was painfully obvious to everyone), Tara had been more talkative and social with Cairo. The brunette couldn’t help but feel like maybe Chad had said something to prompt the change. He was a nice guy, very protective and loyal to those closest to him, goofy and definitely attractive. Cairo loved Chad. It just made everything hurt so much more. Cairo lifted her gaze from her twitchy fingers to gauge the older girl.

She was looking off into the distance, watching memories and worst-case scenarios on the blank tv screen. Sam looked miserable. That tended to happen when you worried about your little sister’s trauma. “What about you?” Sam stitched her eyebrows together and frowned at the younger girl. Cairo took that as a prompt to elaborate further. “How are you doing with…dealing about this? How’s therapy going?” Sam heaved a heavy sigh that left Cairo’s heart twisting uncomfortably. “I think I need to find a new therapist. This guy pushed me to open up the other night then wanted to assign me to someone else. Pretty sure he has a foot fetish too.” Sam added the last part thoughtfully. “Sounds like a douche. I say dump his ass before he dumps you. But don’t dump Cute Boy.” Cairo grinned like a cheshire cat. Sam rolled her eyes fondly, pushing the brunette’s legs off of her.

Cairo squeaked as she tilted to the side, almost falling off the couch and onto the floor. She watched as Sam got up, heading into the dining room to clean up. That’s when Cairo noticed the two wine glasses and two empty plates. (Cairo tried not to worry about the wine glasses. It was just wine…right? It was drugs and beer that were Sam’s vices, not wine. Christina was the one whose vice was alcohol in general. That woman would drink anything she could get her hands on. Anything that fuzzed her thoughts and shattered her inhibitions was welcomed to her digestive system.) There weren’t any candles or dimly lit lights on in the apartment, so it didn’t seem like they were going for an intimate night. Which made sense, because Sam didn’t know if Tara would be coming back or not.

It didn’t take a genius to piece together that no one knew about Cute Boy because Sam didn’t want to set Tara off in any way. Still, Cairo felt bad for interrupting their date night. “His name is Danny, and we aren’t dating.” Sam said lightly from the kitchen. Cairo shrugged as she picked up a weird looking piece of chicken to sniff. “Could’ve fooled me.” There wasn’t any noise except for the clinking of cutlery and spray of water. Cairo hoisted herself up onto the counter in the kitchen and cupped the edge. “I’m not going to tell anyone that I saw him here, I won’t even mention him at all. Now, tell me about how long this has been going on and who initiated it.” Sam couldn’t help but blush as Cairo smiled and wiggled her eyebrows suggestively. Cairo laughed softly at the flustered woman and playfully kicked her calf. When a minute passed by with no answer, Cairo raised her eyebrows expectantly.

Sam playfully scoffed and shook her head before begrudgingly starting.

#jenna ortega #tara carpenter #ghostfaceaddams #sam carpenter #scream fanfic #scream franchise #tara carpenter x female reader #tara carpenter x oc #tara carpenter fic #gfaddamswritingcorner

[nourrris]

peter parker

(going off the tom holland vr! this is going to be a very long ramble about the character) i cant get over how genuinely hauntingly sad peter parker is, when the idea of peter parker was created, (to be different incomparsion of other characters), because you have a teenager superhero - it's such a good concept mind you - but god? having somebody so young have such a large role on their shoulders is insane, and it's so interesting because just the change in age literally completely fundamentally changes his characters actions and future, he'll have more impulsive decisions, extreme mental issues (which is unavoidable in his situation), and simply a very difficult time trying to navigate.

his level of severe childhood trauma (which quite literally gives you a form of brain damage) will ultimately affect his entire future and actions, he saw his uncle die at what 14? maybe younger? that itself even without the spider-man part is horrid, he never had the chance to even grieve because he was thrown into the most life changing event of his life, he also had no parents either, he has a very significant lack of figures in his life that is so hard to change how they impacted him. what happened in homecoming was the least terrifying experience he probably went through which says alot when a whole warehouse fell upon him and he was just /inches/ way from dying near the end from the vulture.

then infinity war happens next, his fight's and experiences horribly scary situations that nobody could probably even digest at such an age, or even older. and when he 'dusted' its obvious it takes a toll on him before it even happens, he could feel it, and god isn't that scary to think of? the unstoppable force of death? then fucking endgame happens, which i honestly can't even believe the fact that if i said it wasn't the worst thing that happened to him i'd be right, even though he saw somebody who he considered a 'father' figure die in his hands.

excluding that even if tony never died peter would have never recovered mentally so normally, seeing how he was beat up to hell holding that gauntlet was so fucking terrifying. he was tossed around so much and he quite literally held the most dangerous and world altering item in his hands, and if he lost it he'd have the entire world's blame on him. thats so much responsibility a newly(?) sixteen year old should never have, you cannot possibly tell me that it wouldnt literally alter his brain from the terror.

far from home is one of my favorite movie's ever but never fails to make me cry. he didn't even get the time to grieve tony, or the fact that his entire world changed in the matter of days, or the experience it was to endure the endgame fight, how can you casually go back to school after witnessing and /participating/ in the fight that could have possibly entered in the doom of the world again or bring it all back. then mysterio happens, which in my opinion is one of the absolute worst villains that peter's fought, because he was just so human. he ruined peters life completely, and he was just another human. wouldn't that make somebody so bitter? that no your life wasn't completely thrown away to shit by the big evil purple alien, but by another full human. absolutely nothing special to him power wise, not possessed, no weird voices, he did it with pure manipulation and thats one of the worst possible things i could have imagined somebody doing to him.

because peter at the end of the day was just a complete kid, mysterio made him believe he could trust him and peter did, he just lost so much in his life that somebody who could finally understand him was all he needed to feel assured, its why the significance of that one talk they both had after fury was being a dick to peter was so important, mysterio decided to go for such an emotionally devastating route it's unbelievable. but seemingly manipulating his trust wasn't enough, he just had to fuck him up so bad with that illusion scene, putting everything he loved against him and god the stark part was so fucking cruel, but after it all the part that hurt so much to watch was when happy got to him, peter questioning if he was real is so cruel. making this poor kid unable to trust his surroundings (after also being hit by a fucking train!), when he already had so much psychological issues going on is literally the cruelest fate he could have given him at the time.

and lastly no way home, and his future at that. mysterio exposing peters identity was such an irreversible decision that i honestly believe no matter what peter did, there was nothing that could give him or his loved ones the life he wanted unless if he did try to make everybody forget him. like if he originally went to the lady to re-persuade her to let his friends in it wouldnt have worked, and it also showed that much before peter ended up saving the lady in the car, all their fates were fucked and frankly there was no good way to get out of it, he was so absolutely doomed.

may parkers death was the worst of it all i think, i believe from everything that's happened to him, that absolutely nothing would affect him the way she died did. every other death of a loved one that had happened he couldn't truly take the blame for, but knowing how everything lead up to him is the most excruciatingly important detail. he canonically blames himself and i dont believe that feeling will ever end up going away. there's just no way it could, the fact he was the last person who ever saw her alive, the last person she spoke too, he quite literally saw the life drain out of her, there's no way to recover after seeing the person who's been with you for longer than you can remember die in your hands, and in the hands of your accidental actions.

i dont think there was a world were he could have escaped that death coming, peters identity being out as spider-man would have definitely done something in the future, and the problem is everything in no-way home happened in the smallest time stamp ever, i could be wrong but i believe it all went down in a few days at most, there was no way to even comprehend the absolute mental load and overwhelming amount of information being handed to him, nor do i think he'll manage to get over it easily later on either. the idea of different versions of him existing is so much to chew on, the idea of other versions of him living the happier life he could have, ones that never have the people he loves in them, ones where the people he loved are still alive, or some of them even. he even directly saw worlds where their peter parkers arent forced to be forgotten.

this version of peter lost so much that its impossible to cope with, all the peters lost alot already, like all of them didn't have parents iirc, all lost uncle ben, but the tobey and andrew spider-man had a living aunt may, then tobey's lost harry (?), and andrew lost gwen.

this version of peter parker lost both uncle and aunts, parents (of course), and tony stark. this is all just by death, he also lost his best friends, and girlfriend. they stay forever out of reach which is so tauntingly cruel. because he starts at 13/15 (pre homecoming) and by 17 (nwh) he's at the same point of all the other spider-man's started where theyre practically completely alone, or just experienced such a stark change to their lives.

my boy....... he deserves better..... sorry this is so long i had alot to say and i dont get the chance to talk about peter much and ive been recently hyperfixated on him since early feb and i love him so much and cant stop thinking or crying about him . also do tell me if i got any info wrong cause' ive only watched the tom holland trilogy, so im a bit uninformed there but did try to do some research!

#peter parker #spiderman tom holland #spiderman #marvel mcu #mysterio #tony stark #okay thats all i think...

[chronicallylatetotheparty]

Universe 180330: Android

Summary: Gabriel decides to tell Adrien the truth about Hawkmoth while Adrien stumbles onto a truth of his own.

---------------------

There was no blood.

Skin, or what should have been skin, peeled back to reveal metal bones and veins of wire.

"Kid..."

Adrien pulled on the fake tissue. Watching as the biomimicry of his internal structure flexed in response to the pain that didn't come.

"Kid!"

He remembered his fifth birthday. Standing on the chair to blow out his candles because his body was too small. Remembered when he peeled off the tux that was squeezing him because he'd grown too big for it. Adrien remembered his childhood...

Didn't he?

"Adrien!"

His eyes snapped into focus. Plagg trying to pry his fingers away from the flap of fake skin that Adrien was pulling, pulling, pull-

Adrien let go and collapsed to his knees. Whatever technology he was made out of already working to repair him. The numbness fading and a burning itch taking it's place.

Fake pain. To prevent... damage.

A paw was placed on his cheek. Big green eyes gazing into his. Moisture congealed on the surface of his optical receptors. Simulating tears.

"P-Plagg?" His voice broke. "D-does this mean I c-can't be Chat Noir anymore?"

Plagg's tail stilled. "... You're not getting rid of me that easily," he promised.

Adrien nodded as his artificial heart slowed. The servos in his legs taking a long time to reboot.

---------------------

Gabriel stared at images of the silver ring on his son's finger.

The shape was uncanny.

The people in charge of Adrien's photoshoots reported that he often disappeared when there was an akuma... Not that that said much, considering.

But there was also the Simon Says incident. One of his many blunders.

Chat Noir's temper reminded him so vividly of Emilie.

Gabriel straightened his back. No use wondering. He made his way quickly to Adrien's room and threw open the door without knocking.

"Adrien, I have something important to-"

His son's room was empty.

"What!? Nathalie!"

Nathalie and the bodyguard Gabriel was starting to think was slightly overrated rushed to him at his yell.

"Where is my son!? Find him!" Gabriel snapped.

----------------------

Adrien didn't remember when Solitude first came out.

Understandable. He wasn't "born" yet. But that did mean that this film was the only recording of his mother that wasn't carefully curated for his consumption.

He wasn't sure what he was hoping to glean from it but... "Having a mechanical brain that records everything has to be good for something," he thought aloud.

"Like sniffing out that one bit of cheese that's gotten too rotten?" Plagg asked.

Translation: finding a clue about how much of his "life" actually happened.

"Is there such a thing as too rotten with you?" Adrien deflected with a smile instead.

"You'd be surprised." Plagg hid as they came into view of the movie theater.

--------------------

Gabriel suddenly remembered that Adrien had come into his office earlier that day to ask for something... But Gabriel was too engrossed in the question of Chat Noir to pay attention to him.

What ... What was Adrien feeling when he came in?

He should know. The Butterfly made him know. Always. He couldn't turn it off.

But he could shut it out...

Suddenly the idea of akumatizing his son's bodyguard no longer felt like the smart move.

Gabriel ignored Nooroo's questioning look as he stopped fidgeting with the Butterfly brooch and reattached his tie. Activating the hidden elevator to decend from his lair.

He dialed the bodyguard and waited for the answering click. "I know where he is. Let him finish watching the film then escort him back once it ends."

Hanging up, Gabriel gazed up at the portrait of his comatose wife.

---------------------

Adrien wiped at his photo receptors as the credits rolled.

The film was a passion project between friends with too much money. Which showed in clunky dialogue and weird scene transitions. And yet... Maman was an amazing actress. Embodying the isolation someone could feel even while surrounded by people.

The servos in his fingers whirled as his digits approximated a fist. It wasn't fair. Adrien didn't even have a heart just simulated responses.

It shouldn't hurt this much to see himself reflected in his mother's character.

His facial recognition detected the Gorilla a few rows behind him as Adrien stood. Here to guard Father's favorite toy.

Adrien barely acknowledged him as he walked back to the vehicle. Logic algorithms malfunctioning as he was temporarily overcome with the desire to have been born a car.

--------------------

Gabriel stared at the expressionless mask of his son's face. Adrien had his mother's eyes. Gabriel had insisted on getting the color just right.

"Adrien-" Gabriel cleared his throat. "There is something I have to tell you."

"I'm not real."

"...What?"

Adrien's optical receptors simulated the reddening response as internal moisturizer was released. He walked up to one of the statues in his maker's office and punched the stone as hard as he could. Cracks spiderwebbing from the impact.

"Adrien!"

Pulling back his fist Adrien's optical receptors focused on the joints of his digits. "I'm not real."

"No!" Gabriel grabbed his son's hand. Fingers ghosting over his knuckles where synthetic flesh revealed metal bones. Hands freezing as realization hit him like a meteorite. "...How long?"

"Long enough." Adrien snatched his hand out of Gabriel's grasp as he stepped back.

"Adrien... son-"

"Don't." The tears in his eyes started to spill over. "Don't call me that. I'm not your son. You don't see me as a son. I'm just your fancy doll-"

"That's not true!" Gabriel insisted. "You mean everything to me!"

"Oh, yeah?" Adrien scowled. "Then how come you're never around!? How come I need an appointment just to ask if I can see Maman's movie!? How come I can't call you dad!?" Adrien's words echoed in the high walls of the mansion as his voice rose.

"... Nooroo, transforme-moi."

Adrien scrambled back. "No. No!"

"You are so much like your mother," Hawkmoth said, eyes gentle. "She wanted a son so badly before the end. So I moved heaven and earth to build her one. When we made you I wanted you to be just like her." His transformation fell as he reached out a hand to caress Adrien's cheek.

His son flinched from his touch.

... Gabriel let his hand fall. "You gave her such life Adrien. You gave her years the doctors said she didn't have because she wanted to spend more time with you."

For over a decade she clung to life for you. Developing plans and perfecting your future bodies so it would be like you were growing up like any other child."

"Astro Boy... She called me Astro Boy."

"Yes," Gabriel laughed. "She said it was my fault. For infecting her with my sense of humor."

"... Why?" Adrien asked, a thousand questions in a single word.

"I... I had to get her back. It wasn't fair! To take her from us when we had so much left to do! I... See her in you. Some days so strongly it hurts and I couldn't-" Gabriel took a shakey breath. "I couldn't bring myself to tell you. Any of it."

Adrien wiped at the tears in his eyes. Heart drumming in his chest. "So... I'm just a pet robot that looks too much like your wife."

"No! Adrien, no! I-"

"I'll be in my room." Adrien ran out of his father's office.

Leaving Gabriel alone. Like he had done so many times before.

-----------------------

Things were... Awkward after that.

Not least because Gabriel actually showed up for meals and attempted to engage with Adrien's questions about his own nature.

"How come I get hungry?"

"Some of your synthetic components require organic fuel."

"Is that why you control my diet so much."

"Well, yes."

"I want to know what I shouldn't be eating. And why. It's my body. I should be the one to decide what goes in it."

"Nathalie will give you a list."

"... Does she know?"

"...Yes."

Adrien stood abruptly, breakfast half eaten. "Excuse me, Father. I'm late for school."

Gabriel did not point out that he was in fact an hour early.

---------------------

"How old was my first body."

"About three years. That is also the amount of time you spent in it before we transferred your consciousness to your five year old form."

"...How does it work?"

Gabriel shifted awkwardly. "Your old body is connected to your new one and-"

Adrien shook his head. "No, I mean, how am I built?"

In retrospect Adrien should've known seeing his past selves was going to be super creepy.

Even creepier than seeing his future body suspended in a fluid solution. His synthetic skin only grown down to the first abdomen. Leaving his gut and legs' inner workings exposed. The metal-synth musculature was a lot more anatomical than Adrien thought it would be.

It was a strangely comforting thought. That his future body would be even more human than his current one. Almost enough to offset the odd feeling of watching yourself sleep.

Gabriel cleared his throat. "Every iteration is more advanced than the last. We may even be able to eliminate the filter problem with feathers in your adult self."

"I was wondering about that." Actually, Adrien was wondering if he could get abs in his next body but was too self conscious to ask.

--------------------

Learning about himself was so distracting that it took Adrien a while to notice that Hawkmoth hadn't sent out an akuma since Gabriel revealed himself.

Or maybe he was simply avoiding having to deal with it. Adrien thought as he walked to his father's office. It was past the time Gabriel was usually busy with work but...

"Adrien. It's late. Isn't it a school night?"

"It's not that late," Adrien muttered, ignoring the silly warm feeling in his chest. "Father... You haven't akumatized anyone in a while."

Gabriel paused. His fingers saved his work and exited out of the program before giving his son his full attention. "I... Realized that I could only keep going as Hawkmoth... if I ignored your pain."

"... Oh."

Gabriel removed his tie and stared at the broach.

Nooroo floated out of his hiding place. "Master?"

"Hello," Adrien stepped closer as he held out his pinky finger for the kwami to shake. "What's your name?"

"I am Nooroo. Pleasure to meet you properly, Adrien." Nooroo shook Adrien's offered pinky with his own appendage.

"Is he what empowers the Miraculous?" Adrien asked, hand gliding over Plagg's hiding place.

"... What do you really want to ask me, Adrien?"

Adrien took a deep breath. "Don't you think it's time Nooroo went back to his own family?"

Gabriel stilled. "You... Want me to give them my Miraculous?"

"Please, dad!" Adrien walked up to his maker and held his hand in both of his.

He looked down at his son's pleading eyes. He could see it. Eventually, the temptation would be too great. The pain of this moment would fade among the sea of his grief and he would fall back into old habits.

And his son would suffer again.

Gabriel let go of the Butterfly and let it fall into Adrien's hands. "O-okay," he breathed. "Okay."

Relief bloomed on Adrien's face as he wrapped his arms around his dad. Gabriel returning the embrace.

--------------------

"Dude, I can't believe you're a robot!"

Adrien's face fell.

"That's so cool!"

His head snapped up to find Nino's eyes sparkling in awe.

"Y-you don't think it's weird?"

"Eh," Nino wrapped an arm around Adrien's shoulders. "Normal's overrated."

Adrien smiled shyly. "Sorry I didn't tell you sooner."

"Hey," Nino moved so his hands were on Adrien's shoulders and he was looking his best friend straight in the eye. "I get it. I still haven't come out to my parents even though I know they'll be chill about me being bi. You've got nothing to be sorry about my dude. I'm- I'm glad you told me.

Adrien wiped the blurryness out of his eyes. "Y-yeah."

Nino grinned "Now, c'mon bro! What kinda superpowers you got?"

"Well..." Adrien eyed the desk Nino had snuck into the boiler room. Carefully grabbing the edges to distribute it's weight more evenly. Lifting with his legs Adrien held the thing over his head.

Nino's eyes tried to pop out of his head. "Oh that is sick bro!"

Adrien set down the desk and rubbed the back of his neck. Smiling at Nino's reaction.

They fist bumped as the bell rang. Hurrying to class. Adrien felt so much lighter. He might not have revealed himself as Chat Noir but this... This was good.

He'd talk to Markov later. See if his... Compatriot? Could shed some light on being a robot. Who knows? Adrien grinned. He might even pick up a new trick or two.

#adrien agreste #ml #miraculous ladybug #ml au #android #ml fic #ml oneshot #gabriel agreste #plagg #nino lahiffe

[deltaruminations]

if i can be momentarily ship-for-brains a little bit i do think the implication of asriel and dess having had A Thing is very interesting when considered from the Eloping From The Narrative/Dess ‘n’ Dings Mobius Double Reacharound* perspective. because like yeah what’s more Rejecting The Narrative than the story’s intended hero rejecting her made-to-be love interest and waltzing around the Fantasy Holes with the story’s intended villain instead, directly defying the Will of their absent clockmaker God

like. thinking about the relationships around Dess, both the Holiday and Dreemurr parents were literally Made For Each Other — we know that at least Asgore and Toriel are the same Type of monster (this isn’t yet confirmed for the Holidays, but i think it’s more likely than not. also i will be shocked if the Mayor’s name isn’t Clarice. come on.), which fits common Fictional Family tropes — but even before her disappearance there may have been cracks forming. we don’t know enough about rudy and c’s relationship yet to say much about it, but we do know they didn’t start off on the best foot, though rudy plays off their meeting as a funny anecdote.** asgore and toriel were high school sweethearts who, if we follow that trope, may have never considered seeing anyone else before getting hitched, and we know (from our perspective later in the timeline) that the marriage failed. rudy and asgore have long-standing and extremely obvious chemistry but apparently never seriously entertained the idea that they’d make a good couple.

and then their first born kids seem to be in a perfect position to be Love Interests — they’re next door neighbors, childhood friends, she even wears his jacket. a perfectly wholesome Story Couple. of course asriel is the perfect love interest, the sweet, popular golden boy, her parents’ best friends’ child and someone the bulk of the audience already loves. i could see both in- and out-of-universe actors being very approving of it, even pressuring for it.

and i could see Dess, already rebellious, picking her own name and watching scary movies and wielding bats against bullies, looking at that whole situation and mistrusting it and thinking, Maybe I Should Explore My Options. maybe asriel is, if she’s being honest, a little boring. and, well, who’s that strange, spooky boy who just showed up in town one day? the one who keeps giving her Halloween pencils*** and seems to know just a little too much about quantum optics? the quiet outsider no one seems to like or trust very much? maybe he needs a friend. so they start to hang out. they stumble onto Dark Worlds together, and that becomes their little secret — not just because the Dark Worlds themselves are so exciting, mysterious, and dangerous, but because they can sense that the relationship is increasingly transgressive. her parents can’t know. asriel definitely can’t. these two kids’ relationship becomes so entangled in the escape of a collaborative fiction in which they can safely and authentically be themselves, together, that they end up dragging the whole universe with them into a struggle over creative disagreements (do we let it end with the Roaring or not?) that is really, at its core, about an unspoken mutual fear of losing each other. as above so below etc.

the possibilities in that for tying together other story threads… there are a lot. i dunno. ex: if this is D&D’s little secret, who’s the other person in “YOU TWO”? well, what if kris followed them on one of their excursions? what if they knew about the Dark Worlds, and even the burgeoning relationship, but struck a deal — they get to join in the adventure as long as they don’t tell. maybe the “deals” and “agreements” between kris and will-be extraplanar entities run deep. convenient, isn’t it, that kris as player-vessel can’t talk as far as a Player is concerned, and can’t speak freely to other characters? they can’t spill secrets or tell of any truths or promises they may know exist in anyone’s hearts. if that wasn’t gaster’s doing, then what if it was dess’s? is this all just high-octane copium to justify liking a very fringe crack ship? probably. man. i don’t even fucking know. just. do you see my Vision. do you understand. also they’d just be funny together i think

*truly don’t know what an appropriate and succinct name would be for this theory/headcanon but i’m assuming you guys know what i’m talking about given that i won’t shut up about it

**it is, to be fair, pretty funny

***i know i know the Halloween pencil story from Get In The Car, Losers substantiates nothing. just. [takes an uncomfortably long, loud huff of copium] let me have this one vaguely evidence-adjacent thing. blease,

#99% of the time i couldn’t care less about shipping but like. there’s wild story potential here for me #headcanon zone #do i dare tag this as deltarune analysis. feels. hm. transgressive lol. funny how that works #obviously more could also be said about the current batch of kids and their relationship to Narrative Approved Ships etc. #i do have many thoughts about that. ​maybe another day. #long post #happy friday???? lmao

[harvestingwholeness]

5/7/2023 - 8 days until I own my house on 4 acres! I couldn’t be more excited and nervous. I’ve created so many Pinterest boards, Amazon wishlists, and Home Depot shopping lists. I know what I want and I can’t wait to jump in. With so many projects to work on, my ADHD brain is going to have a blast.

Most of my efforts this year will be transforming the interior of the home. Though I also plan to bring ducks into the mix this summer!

I considered getting chickens but to be honest, I’ve got a lot of chicken trauma. I cared for my family chickens from age 6 when we brought home our first chicks. At the most we had over 30 chickens and they were my full responsibility. Every rooster we owned was so mean. Like, jump on my shoulders mean. I know with care you can foster a kind flock, I just know I’d go in scared. Ducks though, no claws, rounded beaks, cute quacks, waddling. I’ll go in with love and I think that’s what matters most. Plus, my favorite farm in Belize serves duck eggs so I will get to pretend I’m sitting in the outdoor lounge eating my breakfast sipping coffee and reminiscing my great Belizean adventures. Or, that’s what I hope for anyway, I will see what happens when reality strikes.

I used to travel every week for work, Monday through Thursday. I had the added benefit that instead of flying home on weekends, I could go anywhere as long as the flights were cheaper than going home. I live on the west coast and for a year and a half I was flying to Boston. So many places around the world were cheaper than going home. I traveled to Belize over 20 times and it’s my greatest love. I spent a little bit of time in Europe, but Central America is really where my heart feels at home. If climate change doesn’t destroy the region, I would love to retire in Belize. Gotta have dreams, right?

While I feel my frequent international trips are no longer my greatest priority, I still have high hopes of traveling to Africa in my future. Egypt, Rwanda, Kenya ahhh I want to go so badly. The only reason I didn’t go while I was traveling for work, is that it would take the whole weekend just to get there haha the furthest I traveled was Australia, but I took two weeks off to enjoy that time. That was my craziest adventure yet, someday I share about my stranded with no water camping alone on an island experience while going through antidepressant withdrawals because I lost my luggage. Good times.

This morning I was thinking a lot about who I was before my childhood trauma hit me hard. When I was about 7 years old, I suppressed my memories of abuse and they began returning about 6 years ago. Last year one of my cousins was on trial for what he did to two younger girls. He hurt me as well, but until the week of the trial my memories were too foggy to report. However during the trial I panicked thinking if I was asked on the stand if I was a victim of this cousin, I wanted to have a clear and confident answer. That’s when my childhood memories returned full swing. I know I still have a lot more suppressed, but I now remember so much more. It was about two weeks where my memories we’re constantly returning, like I was watching a movie of my life. It sent me into a dark spiral and I ended up in a partial hospitalization program to recover. Anyway, I was such a confident person before the memories came back and before the abuse got to be too much. I was a bold adventurer, defiant, so much more social, and even though I was riddled with blights of deep depression, I felt solid. All of the abuse I endured as a child warped me into who I am today. I don’t know if I’m proud or depressed about that, depends on the day.

I have so much more to write but I think I will end for the day.

- Hannah

[isolatedfeline-archive]

So the boyfriend and I watched The Ring last night on Netflix, and I just wanna know---why did I find that movie scary as a young child? Like Samara is definitely creepy, and the whole “Seven Days” Phone call still gets me, but like?? I feel like because I was so young i found that movie much more scary than it actually was and I wanted to toss these thoughts out on the dash today because I need answers. 

#[ ooc / noctis: the scribe for an angry cat son ] #really he just roped me into my childhood trauma but like its still creepy to me but like #at the end of the day i think childhood brain considered this movie SO MUCH more scary than it actually was #but it still has a good creep factor idk these my thoughts today lmao

[tooruluv]

Katsuki Bakugou x F!Reader ( part 1 )

❝ ...and then there’s you. ❞

description: you and bakugou have hated each other since childhood. through the constant bickering, fighting, and actual fist fights... you had no idea that you had been writing to him.

genre: angst, soulmate au where you have a notebook that you can write to your soulmate in

word count: 3.8k

warnings/notes: strong language, lots of angst, aged up characters, bakugou being bakugou, reader has an air manipulation quirk created as part 1 of 3 for my winner of my tooruluv2kparty contest @katsulovee​ <33

teaser | part 2

| masterlist

“ ‘cause when the sun goes down, someone’s talking back ” - talking to the moon, bruno mars

┏━━━━━⋇⋆⋆⋇❦⋇⋆⋆⋇━━━━━┓

The storm only escalated, casting the sky in deep blues and greys. Loud rain clattered against the roof of your apartment building, the ceiling of your top floor apartment being the only thing that separated you from the pour. 

The rain may be cold, but you were on fire.

You had been livid all day, positively outraged by the man who seemed to always be in your way. He was the most arrogant, most opinionated, and most… loud-mouthed person you ever met. You were screaming from the inside out, burning with rage.

Groaning, you sprawled out on your bed.

Katsuki Bakugou was the biggest fucking issue on the planet. His absurd need to be the best at everything he did, his cold demeanor and venom that spews from his mouth -- you wanted nothing more than to punch him directly in the throat. 

With a deep breath, you flipped open your Soulmate Journal. 

The world was such a strange place, full of quirks and criminals and heroes and villains. To add on top of that, when you turn thirteen a journal just… appears. And whoever is your soulmate can read everything you write. Once they read it, they can reply or talk to you that way and the ink disappears. There are plenty of rules that go along with it, like if you turn thirteen before your soulmate does, the ink is red until they receive their own journal. Or how the journal itself is indestructible. Or the biggest rule: you cannot write any given name. 

When you’re thirteen, your life is full of hope and wishful thinking. Almost everyone at that age is excited to start writing to their Person, the one who they were supposed to be created to be with. You were surprised when you opened yours to find nothing written.

You assumed that you were a bit older than your soulmate, but that was quickly shut down as you wrote in black ink. Your soulmate hadn’t written anything. 

It took two months for him to write back. Two months of your excessive writing and nearly diary-like entries. Two months of you wondering if they would ever write back. Until he did.

Today sucked.

That was all you wrote, your past two months of writing still ever present and glaring at you with smudges and hinted annoyance. The ink started to fade like Harry talking to Tom Riddle, reappearing with new handwriting.

It was scrawled across the page with terrible handwriting, very much one of a middle school boy. 

Life sucks. Deal with it.

You were now twenty two, an adult and that once hope and love has turned into pessimism and indifference. And life still sucked. 

You were pretty famous, your air manipulation quirk one that catches a lot of attention. That, alongside your rivalry with the second most famous hero Bakugou, brought an abundance of recognition. Bakugou completely steals your thunder every chance he has, stealing your light and victories. 

You hated him. With the utmost disrespect, you hated him. Since your days in the hero academy, the two of you were at each other’s throats. He would even stop in the middle of antagonizing Deku to make some horrendous comment towards you instead. 

You ended up scribbling along the Soulmate Pages, heated rage boiling with each word.

Hey Honey! I need to vent if that’s okay.

Of course.

You would not believe the shit I have to endure in real life. I wish I could describe the hatred I have for this man I work with, he’s a real piece of shit. Anyway, how was your day?

My day was about the same as yours, living with the idiots of real life. If we could write names I would because there’s this bitch I work with that I fucking hate.

Maybe we need new jobs (insert laughing face even though I’m livid right now)

Yeah. Maybe. But we’ll get through it.

It took years for your soulmate to warm up to you. The first interactions were hesitant, slow, and barely considered conversations. But now you can discuss your day as if you were texting a friend, talk about your likes and dislikes. 

He was your soulmate after all.

You learned that he was a boy and an only kid, he had a strong quirk, and that he liked ramen. He was a rule follower and his handwriting always used proper punctuation. You told him all about your life and how you wanted to travel away from everything.

You wanted to know who he was, more than anything. 

You wished you could tell him your name and quirk, where you lived and who you were. You wished he could do the same. 

You’ve tried, of course, to write out your name and location. But the second the words were written onto the page, they turned into a random assortment of letters. Gibberish. Never to be written, never to be known.

“Dude, fucking relax!” You rubbed your temple at your desk, voice spitting venom against Bakugou’s loud vocals. “Not everything is about you, just sit down and wait to be sent on a mission.”

“What did you say to me?”

Katsuki Bakugou had been going on and on about how Deku got assigned to a mission in upper Japan, sent to work with a separate force for a bit to expand his horizon. He was outraged, yelling and standing tall and broad to pretend to be bigger than he was. 

You were doing paperwork, trying to concentrate despite his yelling and complaining and bitching. You were hovering above your seat with your legs crossed, papers scattered (it was a habit of yours, to just kind of hover a couple of inches off the surface of things; air manipulation and all that). 

“I said,” You turned to look into his ablaze eyes. “Sit down and wait. Not everything is about you.”

You only threw fuel into his fire, you could hear the sparking between his fingers. You turned back to your paperwork. 

“You don’t get to tell me what to do, you’re not even in the top five heroes.” Bakugou barked in your direction. You could feel his heat as he approached your desk. “You can sit and do your own paperwork all you want! I need to be put on serious cases, just like stupid Deku is always placed on.”

“You can argue with me all you want.” You moved to continue your work, pretending to be unbothered. You could feel the anger boil in your chest. “But you still are and will always be measly little number two. Now shut the fuck up, you’re interrupting those who are actually working.”

He was going to hit you, you knew he was. You two ended up fist fighting all the time, oxygen and explosions ending in destruction. Before he could, your boss walked in with a bellowing, “Bakugou! Get over here, I have something for your loud ass!”

You decided to give him a bored middle finger as he walked away.

They say that words are the way of life. You could say an infinite amount of words and sentences in your lifespan, you could say a word and only ever say it one time. Each assortment of words are different each time, something new every day. 

You figured that’s why you hated the soulmate thing. 

Finding your soulmate should be one of chance, of pure coincidence and meeting of strangers. With the journal, you are starting something you only hope to find. You could go your whole life without finding your soulmate.

And that is terrifying.

There are horror stories of writing to an endless notebook, sad movies created where the lettering turns back to red before they’ve found each other. You wanted nothing more than to meet and just… be with the man you’ve been writing to since you were thirteen.

It seemed to be some sick joke, a tease in the palm of your hands.

When you were young, you attended UA High. It was meant to be the best school for heroes, grooming them into the best of the best. Both of your parents had been heroes themselves, your mom with a cloud quirk and your dad with wings. You took after a bit of both, no wings and no clouds but could create air currents and manipulate the air surrounding you within a certain radius. It has something to do with your breath and lungs, but you never looked too much into the actual DNA aspect. 

When you arrived in the hero program, you passed the tests with ease. You tried to focus mainly on yourself and gaining your own points, alongside a couple of students with the same idea. 

You were pissed when you were placed in 1-B instead of 1-A. It was the start of your rivalry with the explosion boy. 

Luckily, you quickly gained friends. You actually seemed to have a soft spot for Hitoshi Shinsou, and you and Itsuka Kendou seemed to be the only two with brains (this led to many conversations resulting in shit talking and giggling). So in the end, you weren’t too upset to be placed in the second best class. 

And you did get to fight with Bakugou a lot more without punishment, your professor wanting to be number one as much as anyone else. 

One particular day that you remember to this day, one that really labeled your hatred for Bakuogu, was just a normal day at first. You were finished with your normal morning classes and just beginning the hero portion of the day, the training and fighting. 

Your class was working with Class 1-A for the day, teaming up with one of their students and seeing how your quirks would act both against and with each other.

You were, of course, teamed with Bakugou.

The fucker was already set in his ways, loud and in need of attention at all times. You were well aware of his… loud personality… at that point, being beside Shinsou when he called your class “extras”. He was already someone you wanted nothing to do with. 

“Good luck.” Kendou muttered to you when your names were announced as partners. “See ya.”

The second you headed to him, you could feel his apprehension. He wanted nothing to do with you. And you wanted nothing to do with him. In fact, you were hoping for Uraraka as your partner, wanting to see how your air manipulation would work with her gravity. 

Apparently the professors wanted to see the oxygen working with the burst of flames. Which, honestly, is cool yes — but it was the person behind the explosions that you did not want to be a part of.

Bakugou was not one to mumble under his breath. 

“Why am I paired with you?” He rolled his eyes, crossing his arms across his chest. “I could at least be with someone interesting like Mind Control over there.”

You already wanted to punch him. “You’ve obviously never seen my quirk.”

“Clearly it hasn’t been interesting enough to be worth my attention.”

“Say that again when I remove the oxygen straight from your lungs.” You threatened, knowing damn well you didn’t know how to do that yet. “Let’s just get this over with.”

He let out a long exhale, moving into position. You were already flying by the time he let off his first explosion.

His utter disrespect for you and your quirk not only irritated you, but only was the start of a long term competition on Who Can Be Better Than Who that lasted the rest of your time at UA.

Through the constant loud arguments, the yelling in the cafeteria and the comments just loud enough for the other to hear, the fist fights and the swearing that was reserved only for each other, you found comfort in talking to your soulmate. It was relaxing after a long day of pure annoyance and shit talking to finally just get to have normal conversations with someone you enjoy. 

Are we allowed to ask about school in this thing?

I don’t think so.

I’m sighing. Pretend that you could hear my sigh.

Wow, that was a loud sigh.

YOU’RE FUNNY! Anyway, I really want to know if we go to school together :(((

I don’t even think we can talk about JRTPD or BO::SOMD. See, they turn into gibberish.

 I mean… we can say school. So we can ask ABOUT school just not… specific schools. 

That’s true. I go to a special school and am the best in my class. You’re getting lucky by having me as a soulmate.

Well I would only hope so. Need a smart soulmate for fun facts.

Fun fact: you’re pretty cool. I guess.

Ah, the admission of your love for me.

Not love. I don’t hate talking to you if that does anything for you.

The one person you don’t hate. I’ll take it, Soulmate.

Don’t push it.

We should give each other nicknames. Since we can’t call each other by our real names.

Does the book allow it?

My parents did it before they found each other.

Okay. Like what?

I can call you Hot Head, because you’re hot and because you are always writing about how mad you are.

No.

I can always go with something cute like Honey.

This is gross. I was thinking like gamer tag nicknames.

Okay, Honey.

I take back what I said, asshole.

Honey and Asshole. The perfect pair. We could solve crimes!

I’m going to bed now.

Goodnight Honey ♡ I know that you aren’t reading these but you will in the morning. Dork.

“Do you know who your soulmate is?” You asked.

You were hanging out with Kendou, Monoma, and Shinsou in Kendou’s bedroom. The dorm rooms were all set up the exact same way, but for some reason Kendou’s always seemed to be bigger. 

“No idea.” Monoma shrugged. “I don’t think I want to know until I’m older, we’re too young and I want to focus on graduating first.”

“He’s right.” Kendou twisted in her position on her bed. “Why? Do you want to know who yours is?”

“I want to know more than anything.” You sighed. Your head was laid across Shinsou’s lap on the floor. “We get along so well and I try to talk to him every day.”

“How do you know it’s a he?”

“He told me.” You laughed. “We tried really hard to narrow it down as much as possible.”

“It sounds like he wants to know you too.” Kendou said. She giggled. “I should ask my soulmate their gender.”

“What about you, Shinsou?”

“I barely write to mine.” He shrugged, making your head tilt a little. “I’m sure they understand.”

“I’m sure they do, they were made to be yours.” You looked up at him with a smile. “Of everyone, I thought you would write the most.”

“And why’s that?”

“Because most people are scared to talk to you in real life.”

He flicked your forehead. “You aren’t scared to talk to me.”

“I’m not scared to talk to anyone.”

“I’ve noticed.”

You sighed and closed your Soulmate Journal, the rain now casting a dark shadow across the entirety of the sky. Your face was flushed in red, hair disheveled and you were still in your hero uniform, dirty and kind of burnt. 

Katsuki Bakugou had not only interrupted your victory, but he had claimed it as his own. His desperation to be the number one hero hadn’t stopped. It’s been years, you’ve grown past his stupid desire and he simply… hasn’t.

You fought the villain yourself, using your quirk to it’s full capabilities and trapping them in a circle of air. You fought for over an hour by yourself, taking up the mission while out and witnessing it first hand. Your freshly bought coffee was long forgotten as you raced after the thief.

The second you landed the thief, the ball of air dissipating as you grew tired, Bakugou arrived in a fiery feat and handcuffed the villain. Of course, the main photos were of him with the handcuffs, standing proud as if he hadn’t stolen your fight. 

His argument was that he did help. Yeah, he did ‒ for three seconds.

Katsuki Bakugou was a piss stain upon himself, truly the worst of the worst who’s own personal interest outweighs anything else in his life. He will never be anything but second best because he never thinks of anyone but himself. 

If only he could read thoughts instead of turning his sweat to ignition. Then you wouldn’t have to put your harsh thoughts into tone.

Your Soulmate was one of two people you genuinely enjoyed talking to, he always seemed to be on the same page as you. The other is Shinsou, from your high school. He was the only one you really kept in contact with.

Sometimes you like to convince yourself that Shinsou is your soulmate, since he hasn’t found his either. But you compared the handwriting and it didn’t match at all. Shinsou’s handwriting was much smaller and neater than the man you would eventually call yours.

“This is so fucking stupid!” You screamed, your rage reaching its max.

You threw your journal across your bedroom, the storm masking the sound of it banging against the wall by your bed. You were pissed, you wanted nothing more than to see Bakugou’s downfall. It’s been years. You were over it.

You were over it all. You were over him, you were over not knowing your soulmate, you were over being alone in your stupid apartment. It all reached it’s apex. Maybe you needed a shower, or maybe you needed to move from your job.

Your fit was interrupted by a loud crash on the roof of your apartment building. You nearly jumped at the sound, the sound not even close to the crashes of thunder. 

You rushed to the roof, your hero senses kicking in more than your regular carefulness. Once you were outside, you were almost instantly drenched in the rain. Only a couple of yards ahead of you was a man crumbled to the ground; they must’ve hit the roof harder than you thought.

When they turned, clutching their side, you knew instantly who it was.

“Deku?” You rushed towards him. “I thought you were in Hirosaki for some serious villain.”

He moved to stand, much taller and broad than he was back in high school. Yet still with the fluffy green hair and bright eyes with hope always seemingly sewed in. 

“I was. I just… I need your help.”

“Why do you need my help?” You helped him stand fully, taking his hand from his side to check for an injury. He wasn’t bleeding. “Doesn’t Uraraka live around here?”

“I don’t… want to involve her in this.” He stood straight. His healing must’ve started. “I… this is something I need you for.”

“Okay…” You crossed your arms. “What do you need?”

“I know what you’re going to say.” Deku started, and you didn’t move. “But it’s Bakugou.”

“No.”

“C’mon, Aero, I know that you two…”

“No.”

“Please, I…”

“Deku, you know more than anyone how and who he is. Whatever it is, he can deal with it himself.” You started back towards the stairs. “I appreciate you coming to me, for whatever reason, but this is something that you have to find someone else for.”

“Don’t think of this as us doing something for him.” Deku rushed to stand in front of you. “Think of it as a favor for me. You owe me one.”

“Don’t do this now.” 

“I’m officially cashing in my favor.”

You sighed, “Fine. Can you at least tell me what we need to do for the asshole?”

“I’ll tell you on the way.” He nearly jumped in joy. “But you cannot tell anyone. Not Shinsou, not the police, and not our boss. This is under the radar.”

“Oh, shit.” You followed him as you flew next to him. “What are you getting me into?”

tag list: @katsulovee @paradisebabey @seaofemptygold @zhaixiaowen @daylghits @haikyuusimp91 @darknessyournewfriend @samwise-though @liaxxx109

#anime #manga #tooruluv🍄post #bnha #bakugou #bakugou x reader #bakugou x you #bakugou x y/n #katsuki bakugou #katsuki bakugou x reader #katsuki bakugou x you #katsuki #katsuki x you #katsuki x reader #bakugou angst #bakugou soulmate au #bakugou headcannon #bakugou hcs #bakugou imagine #bakugou headcanon #bnha x reader #bnha x you #mha #mha x reader #mha x you #shinsou #shinsou x reader

[likeahorribledream]

On The Run

Request: ''I had a bad dream'' with Steve Rogers. - @fangirllife98

Summary: After the incidents from Civil War, you and Steve are on the run together.

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader / Nomad!Steve x Reader

Word Count: 2.1k

Warning: Nothing triggering, I think? I suck at warnings. There isn't any physical description for the reader.

Notes at the end.

+ This is not proofread, I apologize in advance for all the mistakes you're about to see.

Steve Rogers had been your friend since he had come out of the ice. You used to work for SHIELD but you were neither an agent or an Avenger, you worked in the medical field and you had been hired to monitor Steve’s health until he woke up and after. You spent a lot of time with him and quickly became close friends. You both have very similar personalities and it made it very easy to get along. He could spend hours talking to you about his life from before and he could listen to you for hours as you tried to explain to him everything that was new and different.

He loved that you weren’t an agent or an Avenger, it allowed him to have his own little escape from that part of his life whenever it got to be too much. You were, and still are, one of his best friends and he trusts you with his life.

When he decided to go look for Bucky, he wanted you to come with him. In case Bucky needed medical help, you were the only person he’d trust around his childhood best friend. Of course, you went with him. You had listened to Steve tell you hundreds of stories about the trouble he’d get into with his friend, Bucky was too important for him to refuse to go look for him with Steve.

You hadn’t expected to become fugitives of the law, yet here you are a year later; running and hiding with Captain America.

Steve brought Bucky to Wakanda so that he could heal and understand what exactly happened to him, when he came back the feud between him and Tony was far from being over and since he went against the Sokovia Accords, he found himself on the other side of the law and since you had helped him, you were considered an accomplice and were on the ‘’wanted’’ list next to Steve’s name. Tony could have gotten them out of it but when Steve chose Bucky over him, he decided to let him fend for himself. Steve had given you a choice; he could get you a place to live in another country where you’d be safe from the authorities or you could stay with him but that meant you would have to constantly be on the move.

You’d much rather be constantly on the move with your friend, than staying in one place in a country you didn’t know without being able to see him for who knows how long, the choice had been very simple and easy for you.

After a year, the heat had died down and it allowed you to stay in one place for longer periods of time. Steve had grown a beard and let his hair get longer, it made it harder for people to recognize him. Not a lot of people knew what you look like, but you decided to dye your hair from time to time just in case someone might recognize you.

A few days ago, you and Steve went back to New York. It’s Steve’s safe place and it’s so crowded, it makes it hard for anyone to recognize either of you. Steve had found a shady motel in a shady part of town that accepted to be paid in cash, no IDs required and no questions asked. You each had a room, a door connected them and you always left it opened just to keep an eye on each other.

It’s hard to sleep. You haven’t had a single good night of sleep since you left with Steve, you were scared that if you fell into too deep of a sleep, you wouldn’t hear if someone came for you.

Tonight is your third night in a row at this motel, you were tired of eating food from the vending machines so you decided to go get some takeouts for dinner. Steve doesn’t like when you go out on your own but it was too risky for him to go with you, that’s why you mainly ate food from vending machines. After dinner, you took showers in your respective rooms. After your shower, you put on a pair of sweats and a tank top and sat on your bed, waiting for Steve to join you to watch a movie.

‘’Come on, old man.’’ You called out towards his room.

He was taking his time and you were anxious to get the movie started.

His head poked out from his bathroom door, his hair completely drenched.

‘’That nickname wasn’t funny years ago when you used it for the first time, and it’s not funny now.’’

You laughed and pointed at your smile. ‘’Speak for yourself, I personally think it’s funny.’’

He rolled his eyes.

‘’Come on, Stevie. I’m tired.’’

Steve squinted as he looked at the alarm clock on your nightstand. ‘’It’s barely 8:30. How am I the old man here?’’

‘’You were born at the beginning of the 1900s, I was born at the end of the 1900s thus making you old.’’

‘’Well, give me 5 minutes and I’ll be right there. You can start the movie, I’ll still be able to hear it from here.’’ He told you, going back into the bathroom but leaving the door slightly opened.

You did as he said, you pressed play on the movie you had chosen earlier and sat with your back against the headboard, pillows behind you to make it more comfortable.

Five minutes later, Steve emerged from the bathroom and sat down next to you. He lifted his arm to let you snuggle up against his body and then laid it on your back, his hand resting on your hip.

Movie night always meant cuddle time.

Though you loved Steve with all of your heart and he loved you with all of his, the last few months had started to get rough for the both of you. You had never realized how much you were fond of hugs and human touch until you couldn’t do either. You came to a mutual understanding that, to keep your sanity, you would have cuddle time and it had sincerely helped better both of your moods.

Once the movie was over Steve turned off the TV, gave you a kiss on your forehead and went back to his room for the night. As soon as the lights were off, you fell asleep.

You were woken up a few hours later by something touching your foot above your covers. You quickly opened your eyes and relaxed when you saw Steve standing at the foot of your bed.

‘’What’s wrong?’’ Your voice was barely audible as you were still half asleep.

‘’I- I had a bad dream. Really bad. Can I stay with you?’’ He whispered.

You could hear how anxious he was and that woke you up. You grabbed the covers that were around your shoulders and lifted them up. Steve quickly walked around the bed and joined you, settling under the sheets. You waited until he was completely laid down and lowered the covers on top of both of your bodies.

‘’Are you ok?’’ You whispered.

You were laying on your side, facing him while he was laying on his back, looking at the ceiling. He turned his head and looked at you. His eyes were looking at every detail of your face, trying to burn this image of you into his brain so he’d never forget how beautiful you looked in this exact moment.

Steve’s had a crush on you since the first day he met you. At first he didn’t think too much of it, thinking it was just because you were the first woman he’d seen in over 70 years. Then, you two became really close friends and his feelings only got stronger throughout the years but he was going through a lot and he didn’t think it was fair of him to drag you into his problems so he decided to wait before telling you how he felt. He was finally gathering up the courage around the time Bucky resurfaced and before he knew it the two of you were on the run and he was terrified to confess his feelings to you and that you’d reject him. You two literally only had each other, he couldn’t risk ruining your friendship. Not when it was the only thing keeping the both of you completely sane.

You were both so oblivious, it was almost painful. Steve thought he’d ruin your friendship by telling you how he felt and you were keeping your very similar feelings to yourself because you didn’t think you were good enough for Steve Rogers, America’s Golden Boy. Though you tried not to let it show, you were a very insecure person and you barely felt like you were good enough to be friends with him, there’s no way he’d ever see you as girlfriend material.

‘’I don’t think I am.’’ He finally answered, whispering too.

He laid on his side to face you. It was pitch black in your room, but street lamps outside still managed to peak out from between the blinds, allowing you to see Steve’s face a little better. Whereas with his enhanced everything, Steve could see you very clearly.

‘’What do you need?’’ You asked softly.

‘’You.’’ He answered without hesitation.

You had one hand tucked under your head and you reached out to the other one, brushing your fingers against his jawline soothingly.

‘’I’m right here.’’

He closed his eyes for a moment, enjoying the gentle touch on his jaw. When he opened his eyes again, he reached out over to you to wrap his arm around your waist and pulled you closer to his chest. You were so close to him that you had to tilt your head back to be able to look at him while he had to look down. You moved your hand to the back of his head and played with his hair that was still a little damp from his shower earlier.

‘’Do you want to talk about your dream?’’ You offered knowing that sometimes talking about it helped him.

He shook his head no, his eyes on you and never looking away.

‘’I don’t want to talk.’’

His hand that rested at the small of your back was now moving up to cup the side of your face, using his thumb to gently stroke your cheek.

Somehow, Steve’s face felt closer than it had a few seconds ago. Your heart started racing and you were sure he could hear it. His thumb moved down, the pad of his finger brushed over your lower lip a few times. It sent shivers down your spine. Steve leaned down a little more, his thumb going back to rest on your cheek. His eyes kept flickering between your lips and your eyes. He was ready to stop at any sign of you being uncomfortable. He gently brushed his nose against yours and when you didn’t pull away, he finally kissed you.

Your eyes fluttered shut and you felt your cheeks heat up. Steve didn’t leave you enough time to kiss him back, as he pulled away quickly. Your eyes opened, scared to see the regret on his face but instead all you could see was how nervous he was.

‘’Is this ok?’’

You nodded as an answer, not trusting your voice to function properly. He quickly closed the gap between the two of you, this time giving you a chance to kiss him back. Both your eyes were closed, his thumb started moving on your cheek again and your hand that was in his hair slowly slid down his neck, then his chest to finally move under his arm and rest on his back. The kiss was slow, as if Steve was afraid to hurt you, but you both could feel all the emotions and feelings that you hadn’t had the courage to confess being put into this kiss. He pulled back, just enough to give you a chance to breathe. Both the kiss and how loved you felt leaving you a little breathless.

He looked at you and waited until you opened your eyes. The look in his eyes made your breath hitched in your throat. He had so much love in his eyes that you thought your heart was going to melt in your chest. He rested his forehead against yours, kissing the tip of your nose.

‘’You.’’ He echoed his thoughts from earlier. His voice was barely audible but he was so close that you could hear him perfectly. ‘’I just need you.’’

I am a big sucker for Nomad!Steve, look at that glorious beard!

I hope this wasn't too cringey. This was my FIRST TIME writing a kissing scene, so please be kind. I know it was probably really bad, I'm sorry!

Thank you to my dear @fangirllife98 for requesting this. I hope you liked it and that it fed your little Steve hunger for the day.

[Taglist: @n3ssm0nique | @lover-of-bucky | @beingagodsucks ]

If you want to be added to a taglist; Bucky taglist, Steve taglist, Missing Piece taglist, Blood Moon taglist or just the general taglist just let me know in the comments or DM me.

#steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x female!reader #steve rogers x you #cw!steve rogers #nomad!steve #nomad!steve rogers #nomad!steve rogers x reader #nomad!steve rogers x you #nomad!steve rogers x female!reader #nomad!steve x reader #nomad!steve x you #nomad!steve x female!reader #captain america #captain america x reader #captain america x you #captain america x female!reader #captain america civil war #steve rogers request #400 followers celebration request #request #reader insert #mcu #mcu fanfiction #marvel fanfiction #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers fluff #marvel

[misschifuyu]

To choose a lover

requested here

characters: ran haitani + rindou haitani

genre: fluff

warnings: none

Giggles and whispering comments were passed around, giddiness present in the voices that spoke out just a few metres away from you.

As much as you tried to focus on the tiresome work that was splayed out on the piece of paper before you, it was completely futile to drown the girls out.

It didn't take a genius to know what they were talking about. The school you were all under had the privilege - if one could even consider it as such - to hold two infamous students.

The Haitani brothers.

Whilst the eldest was in his final year, the younger still had another year under this roof until he followed in his brother's footsteps.

But there was really nothing to dislike about going to class when one had a literal fan group who's main topic was always them.

There were girls who preferred Ran, with his signature braids that they always wished they could undo for him; and others that would always fawn over Rindou's cocky ways and stubbornness, trying to catch his attention wherever he went.

The current conversation, however, wasn't just fixed on talking about their aspects.

Far from it. Sending each other questionable looks and making fun of those on the other side of the opinion, they were discussing who, out of the two brothers, was better.

Those on Ran's side had the advantage of saying that he was older, therefore more responsible and willing to take care of anyone.

Sure.

He would make the perfect husband, some were proclaiming. But...the youngest would always want to show that he is the strongest, the more dependable one, as a result of the inferiority that had always hung with him since they were young.

It wasn't that he was, he just hadn't pushed himself to be known as much as his brother had done all those years back.

Needless to say, it was an argument that would never see an end. At least not until the two left the school behind and continued up to wherever the future would take them.

It was amusing, from your point of view, to hear all of these discussions. For years now you had known the two, as close friends who had grown up on the same street, so you knew everything that there was to them, right down to what they actually did when they said they were studying.

Definitely something that the girls would be pushed back by if they ever found out.

But, if it really came down to it, you probably wouldn't be able to pick one out of the pack that they came in, either.

They both had their merits and faults, and, truth be told, neither of the two were that much of a pleasure to be around with, as much as their fans would beg to differ.

One thing was for sure, though. It had come into the light when the three of you had been hanging out one afternoon, without much else to do.

You had asked the youngest about what he thought about his notorious lower level when it came to comparing him with his brother.

It had simply been a spur of the moment, and you hadn't expected him to actually give a sorrowful response.

He was well aware that he was viewed as the weaker brother of the two, and as much as he'd try to prove otherwise, it had always been something that would eat away at him.

Naturally, both you and Ran had jumped to convince him that he was far from a weak person.

The fact that he was viewed as such meant nothing at all when it came down to the reality of what he was, and that there was no point in even listening to those ignorant - and frankly, irrelevant - opinions about himself.

At the end of the day, although you would never openly admit it near the oblivious fangirls, you held a considerable amount of affection towards the two of them.

Of course, they had their odd moments in which you only wished to hit them around the head with Ran's metal bar; but, all in all, they would always be your childhood friends.

So choosing between them was simply out of the question.

Both of them held an equal importance to you, so when a peculiar feeling started growing for one of them, you quickly averted it so it would be felt for the two, whatever it were to be.

They were two peas in a pod, and you weren't about to change this because of a measly crush.

However, the thought would only bug you more whenever you were all together. Such as the current situation, sat right between the two of them on the comfort of their couch.

Before even coming over, you had mentally ordered yourself to disregard the ridiculous thoughts that had flooded your mind.

The girls back at school hadn't help with the problem one bit, if anything they worsened the conflictive feelings; and now you were to spend the afternoon with the two.

One could only think that all odds were against them in such situations.

Head resting on Ran's shoulder, legs atop Rindou's, your eyes were fixed onto the screen before you. The reasoning behind spending the afternoon together was the airing of your favourite show.

However, you were now racking your brains over what you were supposed to do after the series ended. Watching a movie was the prime option, but you figured they would want to move from the couch and do something else.

And the two were very talkative, so you would have to, inevitably, push everything in your mind aside to prevent from even giving the smallest hint surrounding your thoughts.

Your stiffness didn't go unnoticed, and, soon enough, you felt a hand on your leg, startling you in an instant.

"What the hell is up with you today, Y/N?"

Rindou had lost all attention for what was playing on the screen, and it looked to be as though he had for a bit now. This meant he had felt your change of attitude well before he had actually asked about it.

"What? No, nothing...why?"

Knitting his eyebrows together, the blond looked over at you with a disbelieving stare. By now, you were sure Ran had shifted his interest towards the two of you.

"You've been all skittish since you got here. You got something important on your mind or what?"

Geez.

"No...I've just been thinking about something stupid, that's all. Don't worry about it, now let me watch th-"

"That being?"

Now you were cornered. From behind you, having turned to look at Rindou, a voice spoke out the question. In slight panic, you managed to come up with another way around it.

"Well...that, let's say, if I had to choose one out of the two of you, I wouldn't know who I'd pick. It's a silly question one of my friends asked today, that's all"

God bless the fan girls. You were sure to never judge them internally again, because they might have just saved your skin in the nick of time.

Your nerves calmed down as you heard Rindou chuckle at the concern, and you figured he'd just brush it off as another one of your peculiar inquiries.

However, as he fully turned towards you, it was clear that he wasn't about to let this go unfazed.

"Well, you can't just leave us like that without an answer. Go on then, if it was a life or death situation, who would it be?"

"Rindou...you know I'd get rid of both of you if I could"

You all laughed at your words, stirring the conversation into an area that you were certain you could get a hold of.

Each one of you was just as ridiculous as the next one, so it wasn't hard to divert difficult topics.

If only the youngest wasn't so damn pushy.

"On a real note, there's gotta be one of us that you like just a little more, Y/N"

Upon knowing that perhaps you had driven yourself into a dead end, you started to fumble with your fingers.

What the hell were you supposed to say? If you picked one, the other was surely to get the wrong idea.

"Um..."

A slight shift behind you made you turn your head, catching Ran just a little too close for comfort to your face. Great, just what you needed.

After a few, nerve racking, seconds in silence, it was the eldest of the two that decided to break the ice. You were all just wasting time there, after all.

"Listen...since my brother seems incapable of forming a decent sentence, what we've been trying to get at is which one you'd choose, because we've both liked you for some time now and we kinda need to know who you'd go out with"

Well.

Certainly an unexpected turn to your seemingly uneventful afternoon. It appeared that you weren't the only one struggling with the damned feeling that was a crush, but you hadn't gambled that it would be both of them...and for the same person.

You couldn't choose.

In the same way that you had to waver the feeling of more than just friendship between the two of them, there was no way you could pick one now.

It would be unfair for the other, especially since you would only be lying to yourself for saying that you felt nothing for the half that was left aside.

There was only one way out of this, unless you wanted to shatter the relationship you had built between them for the past years.

"I...both of you. I can't leave one of you out when I, well, like both of you"

A huge weight was lifted from your body the moment the brothers exchanged a look, followed by an agreeing nod. Far from the catastrophe you had gambled with, that much was sure.

As Ran leaned his head on your shoulder, Rindou gave you a bright smile, one that not everyone had the chance to say that they've seen.

"Wasn't so hard to say, now was it?"

No. What was going to be hard was having not one Haitani by your side, but two, as a partner. Sure enough, you were really going to know what their poor mother had to put up with now.

#tokyo revengers #tokyo manji revengers #tokyo revengers ran #ran haitani #tokyo revengers rindou #rindou haitani #tokyo revengers x reader #ran x reader #rindou x reader #fluff

[bowiebond]

"Love at second sight"

As IronHusbands, for the prompts!

TW Mention of substance abuse

When Tony Stark first saw James Rhodes, fresh faced with not a lick of scruff at fifteen and a stolen drink in hand as faceless people spoke to him about nothing important, he didn’t dare look away.

When James Rhodes first saw Tony Stark, under terribly dim lighting of a party and in a tailored outfit that was a stark contrast to his own terribly faded science joke shirt, he couldn’t look away.

Tones saw Rhodey, Rhodey saw Tones, and there wasn’t a moment during MIT where they looked away from each other, not really.

Rhodey kept his gaze on Tony, kept his focus on the younger as they sketches a million unused blueprints, as Tony seemed to look everywhere else for praise and desire, as Tony avoided sleep for days on end on a caffeine high.

Tony let his eyes follow Rhodey, let the constant distraction orbit around his brain as he admired the shiny stars in Rhodey’s eyes when he aced test after test, as he stumbled in smelling too much like his dad after a party but simply caressed his head and let the younger get him into bed. He let his own eyes sparkle like passing comets when Rhodey praised his work, when he treated Dum-E like more than a robot.

“You know, that boy is always staring at you, Jimmy baby.” Mama Rhodes would muse when Rhodey would bring Tony to thanksgiving, and Rhodey would always laugh.

“Tones is always trying to guess my next move, I like to stay unpredictable.”

“You’re plenty predictable, sweetheart. It came with a healthy dosage of stubbornness.” His Mama would pinch his cheek and shoo him off and Rhodey would forget his own excuses.

Then one day, they’re both forced to look away. Rhodey can’t look at Tony when he’s raging, when he’s breaking his beautiful creations like they’re offending him, when he’s screaming himself hoarse.

Tony can’t look at anyone. He can’t see anything but grief and pain and anger. He drowns his vision in booze and drugs and shades the outside world with a pair of sunglasses so he can’t see them and they can’t see him.

Rhodey tries to step back into view, to catch his eye, but Tony simply blocks him.

So Rhodey leaves. He has a life, he has promise, and he refuses to be undermined or forgotten as he climbs the ranks.

It’s almost a year later when his phone rings.

“This is James Rhodes. Who is this?” The number is unknown but he feels it in his gut.

“Rhodey. It’s uh… it’s Tony.”

“What a surprise. Didn’t you block my number? And you know, just, kicked me aside in general?” He doesn’t want to sound petty, or even angry, but he is. Or maybe he isn’t. Maybe he’s just tired. He feels tired talking to Tony, hearing his voice. He feels heavy with exhaustion and longing.

“Uh, yeah. Sorry. Shit.” Tony sounds on the verge of crying, but it’s different from the crack in his voice when he lost his parents. “Rhodey, I’m sorry. I’ve been a dick. Am a dick. I just — can you do me a favour?”

“You’re asking a lot, all things considered.” Rhodey intones.

“It’s… Hanukkah.” Tony sighed. “Spend it with me? Please. I can’t — it’ll be the first without them, and I can’t, Rhodey, I can’t—“

“Okay.” Rhodey cuts him off before he can blabber.

“Okay?”

“I’ll be there.” Rhodey doesn’t lie. He takes leave and he comes to Tony’s front door with a simple suitcase. When Tony sees him again, doe brown eyes unveiled from his usual frames, Rhodey feels like he’s being seen for the first time by Tony since Howard and Maria’s death.

Tony’s eyes fill with tears and he wraps he arms around Rhodey like he might disappear, but it’s warm and Rhodey has been cold for too long. Both of them have been.

When Tony steps back and feels Rhodey’s eyes, his entire chest blooms with hope and warmth and it’s melting away the walls so quickly it should be terrifying.

“I’ve missed you, Rhodey.”

“I can tell, crybaby. You light a candle for me yet, Tones?” Rhodey says instead but it’s filled with fondness that sets Tony’s anxieties at ease.

“Not a single one. You know I can’t be trusted with fire, platypus.” Tony grins and it’s infectious.

“I’ll supervise.”

They light the first candle of the menorah together and it’s like the spark of something new between them.

It’s the same routine. They celebrate and they laugh like old times, and Tony only drinks a Rhodey measured amount as they watch sci-fi films — critiquing them violently and practically yelling on top of each other to get their points across before bursting into laughter over movie science — and build a volatile machine that explodes paint and dust when Dum-E gets involved. They spend a good hour chasing the bot in order to clean him off.

It’s sweet and warm like s’mores and they can’t keep their eyes off one another. On the final night of Hanukkah, Rhodey asks him to come home for Christmas the coming week with his family.

It’s sitting on the porch of his childhood home with Tony that he realises.

“You know, Mama always said you liked fo stare at me.”

“What? That’s absurd. I don’t stare.” Tony grumbled.

“But you do watch me. I always figured you were trying to stay one step ahead like the genius you are.” It’s a curious statement, branching out into an almost question, and Tony bites.

“You’re predictable, honey bear. I don’t have to be a genius to stay one step ahead.” Tony snorted.

“So why do you watch me then, huh?” Rhodey grins, turning to look at his best friend.

“I… I didn’t get to for a long time. I kind of— I messed up after my parents died. I wasn’t the best to you, never really have been. Probably never will be.” Tony shrugged weakly.

“You didn’t handle it well. You self destructed. And, yeah, it hurt. To see you like that, and also to know I couldn’t really help.” Rhodey sighed. “You stopped looking at me. I think that was the worst part.”

“I stopped…looking at you?” Tony took a moment to digest his words before huffing a laugh. “I stopped looking at you. I stopped looking at everyone. And I forced you to stop looking me in turn, didn’t I?”

“Sure did.”

“I’m so stupid.” Tony smiled even as he spoke, bittersweet.

“I think it was for the best though.”

“Yeah?” Tony turned his gaze onto Rhodey and admired the soft porch light highlighting his defined cheeks and broad nose.

“Yeah. Never would have gotten to see you in a different light if I hadn’t… looked away. I needed a double take.” Rhodey’s deep brown eyes met Tony’s and his grin grew. “Love at first sight — it’s kind of overrated, huh?”

“Lo…” The tiny creases in Tony’s face smoothed with realisation. “Love at second sight? That’s not how it’s supposed to go, honey bear.” Amusement made his eyes shower with comets and Rhodey laughed, his own glistening with stars as he leant in and pressed a gentle kiss to Tony’s lips.

Tony found he was fine with being distracted by Rhodey, and would be fine with it forever, honestly.

Rhodey had a simpler desire. He just never wanted to look away from Tony again.

#marvel #mcu #Tony stark #james rhodes #rhodey #mit boyfriends #rhfe #ironhusbands #tonyrhodey #rhodeytony #Jewish tony stark #fanficton #fluff #angst

[pips-fics]

ask: Hi 👉👈 if it’s okay can I request a hyunjin centric fic? where he’s feverish and emotional nd the others give him lots of affection and comfort 🥺🥺 I love your blog so much it’s so soft and feels safe and ahhh it makes me happy 👉👈 thank you and it’s okay if you don’t feel up to it !!

ask: hello! how are you? i just wanted to say that this is my all time fave blog :) i’m kinda new to tumblr so i’m not sure if that’s how u say it tho hahaha. are u down for requested atm? if yes, could i request a sick hyunjinnie with any caretaker (preferably bangchan). if u are not taking requests atm, then carry on with ur day 🌸✨💜

tw: vomiting, fainting

let us break ––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––

all idols are trained actors. a lot of people don’t realize it, maybe, but they had to be, to some extent. even before debuting, they learned by observation how to fake health, confidence, and calm - and beyond debut, it was happiness all the time. once, hyunjin found out that one of his best childhood friends was in the hospital, and then sang and smiled through a fansign without blinking an eye an hour later. he knew other idols who had endured much worse.

so yes, while hyunjin might not be entirely comfortable playing a role in a movie or a show, he was quite capable of faking it. maybe that’s why he was able to convince his group mates that he was okay right up until he collapsed.

he hadn’t expected things to get so bad. at first, he was just a bit congested - nothing he couldn’t pass off as allergies, really. once he’d gotten wrapped up in practicing, it had been easy to brush anything else off - like sweating, achy muscles, even nausea - as an effect of intense exercise. too easy, maybe, because hyunjin was not at all prepared for his vision to flicker with darkness or for his legs to entirely give up in the middle of dancing.

fortunately, he retained consciousness, but he wasn’t able to stand quickly enough to dodge minho as he moved to their next formation. the older boy tripped over hyunjin and tumbled to the ground with an “oof,” which was then followed by the chaos of everyone trying to figure out what had happened at once.

it was way too much for hyunjin’s fevered brain to process. he shut down, the sounds blurring into something entirely nonsensical, so hyunjin tuned it all out until a gentle hand on his back made him jump.

“hyunjinnie?” it was chan, wiping tears away. “can you tell me what’s wrong?”

hyunjin shook his head. “minho-hyung–”

“he’s okay,” chan said. “don’t worry.”

shuffling his feet awkwardly, minho nodded. “i know how to fall safely. it happens to the best of us.”

with the greatest of his greatest fears alleviated, hyunjin took a few deep breaths and looked around the room. besides minho, who was still standing nearby looking moderately uncomfortable, and chan, who was rubbing comforting circles on hyunjin’s back, the rest of the members were hanging out near the benches on the other side of the practice room. jisung was talking to their dance teacher while jeongin and changbin were messing with felix in what was probably a deliberate attempt at creating a distraction. seungmin was quietly observing hyunjin from a distance, concern written all over his face. distractions didn’t tend to work as well on him. hyunjin managed a smile in an attempt to be reassuring, but it didn’t seem to have the intended effect.

rather than relaxing, seungmin’s frown deepened, and he stood up and walked over, arms crossed. “don’t act like you’re okay,” he said, and hyunjin suddenly understood. he waved his arms around placatingly.

“i won’t - i’ll take today off, okay?” hyunjin caved easily. next to him, chan looked shocked, and not without reason.

three years ago, things would have gone down quite differently. things had gone down quite differently when hyunjin had been a trainee, and he’d woken up in the hospital with a very rattled seungmin at his bedside. hyunjin wouldn’t make that mistake again any time soon if he could help it.

that didn’t make it easy.

somehow the tears started up again of their own accord as hyunjin relented. “i’m sorry,” he said. “i– i’ll make it up to you all later, i know i’m behind with the dance, it’s just–”

this got the attention of the rest of the group, eliciting a scoff from changbin. “please don’t - if you do that, i’ll be even more behind than i already am.”

“give us a chance to catch up!” jisung added.

hyunjin shook his head. “but i’m supposed to be a dancer.”

felix bounded over and latched on to hyunjin’s arm. “you’re ahead of me, too. i think the only one you’re not ahead of is minho-hyung, and he made half of the choreography.”

minho nodded solemnly. “i cheated.”

hyunjin was too tired to feel better about himself, but too miserable to argue, so he just shrugged and avoided eye contact with everyone.

chan put a hand to hyunjin’s forehead, and nodded as if confirming something. “i’ll come back to the dorm with you, then - i could use a rest day, too, i think.”

with no room for argument, hyunjin decided not to bother trying, despite his misgivings about taking up chan’s time. also, out of all of them, hyunjin thought that chan could use the extra rest the most. by the time they arrived at the dorm, the guilt in hyunjin’s stomach was more or less consumed by an overwhelming sense of loneliness and fear.

he settled in to the living room, sinking into the couch and trying to repress his body’s violent shivering by wrapping himself in a blanket, though it wasn’t very effective. hyunjin was relieved when chan sat next to him, pulling out his laptop - as expected, not really taking a break after all, but hyunjin didn’t mind. he knew chan was busy, and liked to feel productive as often as possible. people relaxed in different ways, anyway. just like that, despite the growing ache in his stomach, hyunjin began to relax and drift off to sleep.

it wasn’t until chan moved to get up that hyunjin snapped back awake. he immediately latched on to chan’s arm.

“hyung, don’t leave me.”

the words were out of his mouth before hyunjin had a chance to consider them, and he immediately hid his face in the couch cushions in embarrassment.

“hyunjinnie,” chan said gently, brushing a hand through hyunjin’s hair. he didn’t sound annoyed, so hyunjin peeked up at him, and found him smiling fondly. “i wasn’t going to leave, just going to get some water. you want anything?”

hyunjin felt his cheeks redden, and let go of chan’s arm. he shook his head. “sorry, hyung.”

“nothing to worry about,” chan said.

being alone even briefly was unsettling to hyunjin, feeling as bad as he was. it meant being forced to take stock of his body, which meant confronting that he felt, somehow, even worse than before. his head was pounding, everything hurt, and his stomach–

his stomach flipped very violently, and hyunjin retched, leaning over the couch, a bit stunned. he swallowed back the vile substance that rushed up his throat with a whimper and scrambled to his feet.

he made it to the toilet just in time for his body to rebel again. this time, hyunjin was hopeless to stop it, and it wasn’t long before tears were rolling down his cheeks. his hair was sticking to his face, matted down with sweat and in some places vomit. hyunjin tried to push it out of his way, but his hands were shaking terribly, and the nausea was so overwhelming, it was hard to focus on anything else.

chan found hyunjin with his cheek on the toilet seat, expression vacant, past the point of caring about a mess. when he saw chan, his face scrunched up into a sad pout.

“hyung… i’m sorry…”

chan chuckled and shook his head. “don’t apologize,” he said quietly, moving to hyunjin’s side just as the younger man began heaving again. chan held hyunjin’s hair and rubbed his shoulder blades, wishing he could do more. he couldn’t help but wince at the way hyunjin’s muscles tensed beneath his fingers.

it took quite a while for hyunjin’s stomach to settle. for about 10 minutes, it was on-and-off puking, half his time spent bent over the toilet, and the other half bonelessly slumped against chan. by the end, he was so exhausted that chan was considering bringing a mixing bowl into the bathroom, just so that hyunjin didn’t have to put so much effort into moving.

finally, hyunjin let out a shuddering sigh - or maybe a sob - and curled up in chan’s lap.

“can i sleep here?” hyunjin mumbled, words slurred with exhaustion. some of the sick in his hair was beginning to dry.

“soon, jinnie. for now, let’s get you cleaned up.”

chan opted to give hyunjin a warm bath, and was pleased when hyunjin relaxed into it, half-asleep. he figured it was okay for the younger man to take a quick nap under chan’s supervision. by the time hyunjin was clean, chan was reluctant to wake him. just as he was about to, hyunjin’s face scrunched up, and he whimpered.

“hyunjin?”

“‘m sorry,” he mumbled, fresh tears slipping down his cheeks. “i’ll do better…”

chan shook him gently, and hyunjin’s eyes flew open. “i’m sorry, i–” he cut himself off with a gasp, taking in his surroundings slowly. “channie-hyung?”

“hey, buddy,” he said, speaking softly. “you okay?”

hyunjin was breathing in short, quick gasps. his eyes darted around the small room, as though searching for something. he blinked quickly, and looked back at chan, who offer a smile.

“it’s just us, you know?”

drinking air as though its supply was dangerously limited, hyunjin nodded. “i know, yeah, i just… hyung, i’m ruining your day off.”

chan shook his head immediately. “what are you talking about, jinnie? you know i’m here because i want to be, right?”

hyunjin bit his lip, trying not to cry. his fevered brain was not being kind to him. chan’s words were too genuine to deny, though, so he nodded, eyes closed. he felt chan’s arms wrap around him, hesitant until hyunjin hugged him back.

“jinnie, you’re allowed to be human. you’re allowed to hurt. it’s okay.”

something there caught him off guard. something broke, something that had been built up, something that had protected hyunjin for a long time. a little snap. it hurt, realizing he’d closed himself off without realizing it, and holding back tears was a lost cause, but then - that was kind of chan’s point.

why hide them?

so hyunjin cried, broken a bit, but held together by one of his best friends - his family. he let himself break a bit more - just as much as he needed - and didn’t flinch when the rest of the members came home. he let them in through a little crack of a doorway, let him hold him and remind him of who he was, and he began to heal.

——

no reader survey this time, too tired and my computer is breaking but please feel free to send in any thoughts you’d like to share, about the fic or otherwise!

——

feel free to send more asks! / rules

#tw vomit #tw throwing up #kpop emeto #tw emeto #emeto tw #vomit tw #vomiting #skz #skz sickfic #kpop sickfic #sickfic #sick hyunjin #hwang hyunjin #bang chan #kpop boys

[cc-tinslebee]

Okay, so, about a month ago, my brain just conjured up probably the most random au possible: Legally Blonde Adam Banks/banksway au.

Believe me, it's as chaotic as it sounds, but lowkey, I'm kind of in love with it.

Adam never joins the Ducks because there aren't any Ducks to join. Bombay never had to do community service with District Five so there was no one to realise that Adam was on the wrong team all along. He continues to play for the Hawks and, eventually, the Eden Hall Warriors, never getting the chance to become the well-rounded individual we know him as because he's never known anything other than his rich privilege and the "win at all costs" mentality. He ends up going to college on a hockey scholarship and not straight to the NHL or the AHL (shocking, I know). While he's unsure of his major and where his life is heading, he finds solace in the fraternity he joins, which, by some sheer twist of fate, Jesse and Guy have also miraculously joined.

And his life is perfect for a while. He's the star player on yet another school's hockey team, all of his fraternity brothers adore him (though, it took a bit for Jesse to warm up to him), and his secret, not-really-official thing with his former teammate is going swimmingly. (Not to slander my boy, but I was picturing Larson for the role of Warner, purely because the alternative seems to be Rick Riley and that's kind of an unsettling image-- though, maybe that's the point?)

But then his secret boyfriend breaks up with him because, with his high aspirations in life, he needs to be "more serious." And dating Adam Banks, a guy in a stereotypical fraternity who only really knows hockey, in 2001 isn't exactly the white-picket-fence life he's looking for if he's going to be a politician.

And since this non-Duck Adam clearly doesn't have the braincells that canon Adam does, in his devastation, he decides it's a brilliant idea to prove that he is serious by applying to Harvard Law. His parents try to talk him out of it, since they want him to pursue his dreams of hockey, but being a lawyer is a respectable career so they can't exactly argue with him.

He gets accepted thanks to Jesse, Guy, and the rest of his fraternity helping him study for the LSAT and keeping him on track. He's trying his darndest when he gets to Harvard, but (despite his struggle not being as significant as Elle Woods'), not a lot of people take him seriously as an aspiring lawyer, considering him a meathead jock who only got in because of daddy's money.

And that's about the time he meets Linda, who he vaguely remembers from his time at Eden Hall. What he doesn't remember is her being so competitive, because she's deliberately beating him at every turn, just trying (and kind of succeeding) at making him look like a fool. To make matters worse, all of the sudden, she's engaged to his ex-boyfriend, who is very adamant about never telling anyone that he and Adam were more than friends (because, you know, early 2000s homophobia and such).

But things get a little brighter for Adam when he meets Charlie, an undergrad teacher's assistant who gives him all sorts of advice about surviving the school. He introduces him to Professor Bombay, who Charlie claims is the only reason he survived his first year and quickly becomes Adam's favourite teacher, and Charlie's childhood friend Connie, who aspires to be a state senator one day. Charlie's charismatic and even if he's not the most well-liked person at Harvard, Adam feels a weight lifted off his shoulders once he becomes friends with him and Connie. Things become a little easier.

Just before he and Charlie start getting really close, Adam meets Casey at a local diner on a day he's feeling particularly upset and alone, and the two start bonding almost immediately. (He bullshits his way into scaring an ex-husband of hers with legal repercussions he has no idea about and she basically adopts him in return.) It takes him an embarrassing amount of time to realise that it's not just a coincidence that Casey and Charlie share the same last name, which results in poor Adam feeling extremely embarrassed for not connecting the dots sooner while Charlie's having the time of his life teasing him for it. Eventually, when the dust of that settles, Charlie and Adam join forces to set Casey and Bombay up, their schemes borderline ridiculous at times, but they'rere not exactly failing.

And after realising he isn't the Warriors moron she thought he was for going on five years, Linda starts warming up to Adam, which is surprisingly nice? She figures out on her own that there used to be something between him and her fiancé, and is more understanding of Adam than she is mad. Linda actually spills to him the lengths Adam's ex had to go through to actually get into Harvard, aligning more with the rumours about Adam's acceptance being bought than having the aptitude for the law that Linda and Adam share. (This may be me saying Linda and Adam friendship rights, what of it-- /lh)

To make things all the better, Bombay chooses Adam, Linda, Connie, Charlie, and Adam's ex to be on his legal team for a murder case he's responsible for (and while he knows about Adam and Charlie's ploys to hook him up with Charlie's mom, they're his favourites, so he doesn't say anything).

And this is just so much better than anything he had before. After all the initial unpleasantness, Linda and Connie become some of the most genuine friends he's ever had. He misses Guy and Jesse, of course, and he'd never take them for granted, but back when he was with them at the fraternity, a part of him was still being as superficial as he had been in middle and high school. Being authentic for once in his life is liberating.

And Charlie's just about the most considerate person Adam's ever met. Adam doesn't even mind when Charlie teases him over his absurd and juvenile insults because he's just this source of light for Adam, supporting him and always pushing him to be the best version of himself. His ex hardly even exists when Charlie's around because his energy is just so contagious that Adam starts falling for him long before he even realises it. (And when Jesse and Guy come to visit, there's a moment where it all clicks and the four of them realise their history together, however brief. I strongly maintain that they'd be that Starkid meme: "Fucking Hawks? We hated you guys!" "We hated ourselves!" But it does make Adam realise how much better off he would've been if he had Charlie and his team when he was little instead of the Hawks, and it just further makes him understand that people like Larson and Rick Riley just aren't worth it.)

But there's also another revelation Adam goes through. Between helping Casey, his rigorous studies, and his position working with/for Bombay, something just clicks for Adam. He likes being able to help people, fighting for the good guys who may not have the resources they need to be properly defended. Practicing law calls to him in the same way hockey did; it's the feeling of knowing this is what he's meant to do. He still loves hockey, he always will, but it helps him finally grasp that there's a world for him outside of it; when hockey ends for him, there's something equally as rewarding that he can pursue, which was something he never thought he would have.

I haven't a single coherent thought about this au past that point except for these little inklings of an ending--

There's absolutely no SA scene like the movie had; Bombay's just Adam and Charlie's favourite teacher and those are his boys, so he's going to make sure they succeed as if his life depends on it.

With that said, Bombay believes in them both enough to let them finish the case because with their joined determination/stubbornness (and Adam's in with the defendant), Adam and Charlie are a force to be reckoned with and he knows it.

After a handful of comedic failures, they do end up succeeding at their attempts to set Casey and Bombay up, and they start living together sometime during the kids' Junior year :) (All I'm asking is for one (1) story with a Casey/Gordon endgame-- I just think they're neat--)

Linda dumps her fiancé (as she should) and goes on to live her best wlw life as a successful lawyer. (If I'm not mistaken, Linda's actress actually is a lawyer, which is a pretty cool fun fact!!)

Adam and Linda's ex gets the Warner ending because, man, screw that guy /lh (rip to Larson if this is him, I'm sure you'll get a nice endgame in some other universe, king)

Honorary mention for Connie, who was going long distance with Guy this entire time to everyone but Jesse's shock, and they get their Game Changers endgame of State Senator Connie Moreau and stay-at-home dad Guy Germaine with their seven -- sorry, three -- children :)

Adam's an absolute bundle of nerves after graduation, which definitely concerns Charlie. So, when he asks if he's okay, Adam starts nervously monologuing about their time together until he runs out of breath. He ends it by proposing to him, and Charlie smiles so surely at him when he says yes. They both become damn good public defenders and stay engaged until the point they can legally get married, but they're practically husbands long before that happens.

Also, if I did my math right (which I should’ve, it’s my entire basis for my Share Your Address series), the Ducks’ would have the same graduating class year as Elle Woods anyway (2004), which is pretty neat!

Thank you once again for listening to me ramble :)

#i just think they're neat that's all-- #full disclosure: i have not listened to/seen the musical yet but I have heard very good things about it #adam banks #charlie conway #gordon bombay #linda the mighty ducks #connie moreau #banksway #charlie x adam #the mighty ducks #casey x gordon

[inner-sakura]

Hypothetically Ever After

[childhood friends AU, adrienette, slowburn, fake/pretend relationship]

With only two weeks of summer vacation to spare, Marinette enlists Adrien’s help with a task of utmost importance.

“I need you to help me seduce your brother.”

Quite predictably, nothing goes according to plan.

a fic loosely inspired by @starrycove​’s Brothers AU from approximately 9835 years ago that has lived in my head and my heart ever since.

read it on: ff.net | AO3

< prev chapter | next chapter >

chapter eighteen

“You know, there’s something I’ve been wondering about,” Marinette remarked later as the credits started rolling.

Adrien hummed absentmindedly, already flicking through to find something else to watch. Since, in his words, the romance subplot had been "extremely subpar", she had agreed to let him choose their next movie. Based on the selections he was currently browsing, he intended to prove to her once and for all the merits of a good romantic comedy. If such things were to exist.

“What’s that?”

“Why don’t we see each other more often?” She asked, her phone lying forgotten in her hand.

She’d been scrolling through her feed—ignoring all of her message requests, as was the new norm—when she'd remarked upon the surprising lack of posts she and Adrien had made together over the past few years. There were a couple of photos here and there, mostly from birthdays and the occasional special event that Adrien invited her to attend. But really not that many. Quite a pitiful amount, actually.

And the more she'd considered it, Marinette realized that outside of their summers on the lake, she could probably count on one hand the number of times they even saw one another in the run of a year.

She’d always just accepted that as a normal part of their dynamic, but it was kind of odd upon further reflection. They both lived in the same city—in the same neighbourhood, no less—yet most of the time it felt like they existed in two completely different worlds.

“I’ve seen you almost every day for the past week. And we are literally sitting next to each other right now,” Adrien pointed out dryly, his attention still fixed on the screen. Marinette fought the urge to roll her eyes.

“No, I meant in general. When we’re in Paris.” She stared at him intently, trying to will an answer out of him with the power of her gaze alone. Adrien merely blinked down at her, giant question marks practically hanging visible above his head.

You know, it's a good thing he's cute, Marinette thought with a sigh. Because there is not a single wrinkle on this boy's entire goddamned brain.

“Don't you think it's weird that you’re one of my best friends, yet I hardly ever see you?" She asked, determined to circle back to her original point while she still had his attention. "I always just assumed you were too busy with work, or travelling, or any of the million extracurriculars your psycho dad makes you do, so I didn't want to bother you. But it wouldn’t be that hard to stop by and say hello once in a while. You don’t live that far from me, after all.” Marinette tried to ignore the vulnerable feeling left in the wake of her words, not wanting to contemplate just how deeply some of her own insecurities might run. If Adrien noticed the way her voice wavered ever so slightly at the end of her phrase, he was thankfully too kind to point it out.

For his part, Adrien appeared genuinely taken aback by the sudden shift the conversation had taken, his eyes wide as they darted over her features.

Marinette couldn’t blame him, really. Even she was surprised to find herself giving voice to the thoughts that had lingered—silently and persistently—at the back of her mind for so long. She had pretty much come to terms with the fact that she would never find the courage to speak them into being.

And yet, there they were. It was done, and there was no taking anything back now.  

Swiveling to face her more fully, Adrien paused, as though he was having a difficult time getting his mouth around the words he wanted to form.

“You know," he began haltingly, "I used to ask my driver to take the long way home, just so we could drive by your house. I was always hoping I might run into you, so that I'd have an excuse to stop and talk for a while.” He looked almost guilty at this admission, as though he was confessing to some sort of sin or transgression. His apparent shame only served to heighten her sense of bewilderment.

“Why didn’t you just come over?” Marinette asked, trying to wade through an ever-deepening well of confusion. Had she somehow made Adrien think he wasn’t welcome at her house, or that she didn’t want to hang out with him?

Adrien's responding laugh was rueful.

“I guess I just never wanted to see the look on your face when you realized that Félix wouldn’t be walking through the door after me.” His lips twisted, a brittle edge that she wasn't used to seeing settling into his expression.

Oh.

Marinette felt a stab of guilt shoot up between her ribs, lodging in the squishy parts beneath her breastbone.

Mainly because she knew that, even as much as she might like to, she couldn’t completely deny his allegation. She probably would have behaved that way if Adrien had just happened to show up at the bakery out of the blue. She would have been elated to see him—of course—but she also would have had her eyes on the doorframe, waiting to see whether Félix was one step behind.

“I would have been glad to see you,” she said, because it was the truth. Even if it wasn’t the entirety of it.

“I know,” was all he said.

Whether it was in response to what she had said, or what she very deliberately wasn’t saying, Marinette couldn't be sure.

Either way, it was becoming increasingly clear that while Adrien knew her remarkably well—almost scarily well, judging by the way he seemed to at times be able to predict her thoughts before she even became aware she was thinking them—much of his mind and his innermost thoughts remained hidden from her, locked away behind walls and doors that would not open.

Adrien knew her, inside and out, while Marinette only seemed to be learning how little she actually knew about him.

It was a discomfiting thought, and one she had very little desire to continue dwelling upon.

“Well, you can come and visit whenever you want,” she declared, gazing up at him in earnest. “You don’t even have to text and let me know in advance—consider this a standing invitation. Lord knows my parents have pretty much adopted you at this point, so they probably wouldn’t even blink twice at you showing up unannounced.”

Adrien pursed his lips. “I don’t know whether to be touched, or concerned that I’m some sort of stray cat your family has decided to take in out of the goodness of your hearts.”

Marinette reached up and pinched his cheek. “How could we resist? You’re cute and housetrained. It was a no-brainer.”

To her surprise, Adrien simply gave her a beatific smile in response.

“And just for that, I’m making you watch Mamma Mia with me again!” He snatched up the remote, pressing play and sitting on it before she could so much as react.

“OH MY GOD, SERIOUSLY?”

-x-

They were in the middle of the “Dancing Queen” number when Marinette heard voices coming from out in the hallway, growing closer by the minute. She lifted her head from where it had been resting on Adrien’s shoulder, turning towards the door just as Bridgette poked her head through.

“Oh my gosh, I love this movie!” She cried, her whole face lighting up when her eyes landed on the TV. “See, I told you I could hear ABBA!” She directed this last part over her shoulder, bouncing forward into the room. Félix followed one step behind, his pace much more sedate.

Marinette tried to plaster a smile on her face. She doubted it was very convincing.

“I believed you,” Félix eyed the way she and Adrien sat curled up together on the couch. Marinette did her best not to squirm. Not for the first time, she found herself wishing for the power of clairvoyance, if only to decipher what lay behind Félix Agreste's icy, inscrutable exterior.

“These two are nothing if not predictable. How many times have you watched this film at this point?” Although his intonation was flat, the derision in Félix's voice was plain to anyone that knew him.

It was in that moment that Marinette became aware she was still tapping her toes along to the beat of the song. She quickly stopped.

Adrien’s voice was a pleasant rumble against the shell of her ear when he replied to his brother. “Hmm, I dunno... Probably thirty? Maybe more. I mean, you’d have a pretty good idea, since you were there for most of them.” Even though she wasn't looking in his direction, Marinette had no trouble picturing the smug smile on Adrien's face as he delivered this last line.

Bridgette turned to Félix, dark eyes wide with surprise.

“He’s lying,” Félix told her, shooting his brother a dirty look over her head. Marinette giggled, clearly catching the exchange from where she was seated. It felt much better to be in this position for once, rather than being the head above which all of these exchanges took place.

Adrien squeezed her side, tickling her lightly.

She laughed more loudly, torn between wanting to squirm away and not wanting to actually dislodge his grip. A peculiar conundrum.

“No, it’s the truth,” Marinette managed to get out through her fits of laughter, trying in vain to fend off Adrien’s persistent, wriggling fingers. “Félix might say he doesn’t, but he loves this movie. I bet he knows every word.”

Adrien barked out a laugh at the incensed look on his brother’s face, grinning widely down at her where she was slumped on the cushions.

“Um, okay...?” Bridgette spoke slowly, her voice uncertain. Marinette tilted her head back, attempting to examine the other girl from upside down. It was hard to get a read on her facial expression from this angle—she did, after all, appear to be hanging from the ceiling like a giant bat—but Marinette would wager her expression fell somewhere between gentle bewilderment and outright skepticism.

Marinette could relate. The men of the Agreste family were a lot for any normal human to deal with, after all.

She decided to take pity on the other girl.

“When dealing with the Agrestes," she provided, meeting and holding Bridgette's gaze. "I've found it's best to never take anything they say at face value. Also note that they are all secretly softies, but will deny this fact until their dying breaths.” She delivered this last line with an air of solemnity, aware that her gravitas might be somewhat undercut by her current position.

“Patently false.” “Hey!” Both brothers said simultaneously, varying degrees of rankled by her assessment.

Marinette gave Bridgette a meaningful look. See?

It was unclear how well it translated though, as she was still perched upside down on the couch.

Figuring it was about time to turn things right-side up, Marinette flipped herself over, rolling to her feet in one fluid motion. She stretched, the bones from her mid-back all the way down to her feet letting out a series of intensely satisfying snaps and pops. Tilting her head to the side, she cracked her neck last.

Ah, much better.

“That is... moderately alarming for someone whose body is so young,” Félix lifted an eyebrow, looking both disturbed and impressed. “I felt that from all the way over here.”

“What can I say? I’m mature for my age,” Marinette shot him a wink, plopping back down onto the cushions beside Adrien.

Or at least, she would have landed beside Adrien, had he not grabbed her at the last second, redirecting her trajectory.

Instead, she landed soundly on his lap, letting out a surprised "—eep!" in the process.

Glancing over her shoulder, she did her best to discretely level him an unimpressed look.

Are you out of your mind? She widened her eyes ever so slightly, silently promising retribution should he be up to any funny business.

Rather than looking perturbed, however, Adrien simply smiled back at her, his angelic visage belied only by the devilish gleam in his eyes.

Little old me? His expression seemed to say. Why, I've never had an evil idea in my entire life.

With an exasperated shake of her head, Marinette settled back, recognizing that resistance would: a) be futile and b) only risk drawing more unwanted scrutiny their way.

Might as well get comfortable now that I'm here, she concluded, reclining further into Adrien's warmth.

Noticing that Félix and Bridgette were still standing there awkwardly observing them, Marinette figured she ought to extend the proverbial olive branch.

“Do you guys want to join us?” She offered, gesturing half-heartedly towards the other end of the sofa as she pondered the sudden wave of magnanimity that had overcome her.

A temporary mental break seemed the most likely cause. Or perhaps her brain had become addled because she was still riding high on the rush of endorphins that came from having a perfectly normal exchange with Félix.

As it stood, it had been several minutes since they’d arrived and Marinette had yet to do or say anything spectacularly awkward or embarrassing, which might have been a new record for her. By her standards, she'd managed to behave in an almost exceptionally normal manner.

In fact, apart from the initial thrill that always accompanied an unexpected Félix Agreste sighting, her entire reaction to him so far had been remarkably… unremarkable.

Even though it was the first time she had seen him in days—and he looked incredibly handsome in his crisp white shirt, light grey pants, and matching sport coat—Marinette had been strangely unmoved by the sight of him.

Her heart had given a little thub-thub in her chest initially, and that was about the extent of it.

All in all, a fairly tepid reaction, especially in comparison to the tingle she’d been experiencing with increasing regularity every time she met and held Adrien’s gaze for any length of time.

Maybe she had simply tired the poor thing out with the whole couch debacle from earlier, and her heart was still recovering. That was most likely it.

Regardless, it was certainly an odd development, and one that she intended to spend more time analyzing and dissecting at a later date. Namely, when Félix and Bridgette weren’t both staring at her. And she wasn’t perched on Adrien’s lap, his arm wrapped snugly around her middle.

“We don’t have to keep watching this. We can watch something else if you’d like,” she reached around Adrien for the remote, intent on finding something a bit more suitable for all four of them to watch.

She was waylaid, however, by a sudden question from Adrien.

“Did you guys just get back from a date?” He asked, unaware of the way his words had landed with the force of a lightning bolt.

Marinette's head whipped around with neck-cracking speed, her ponytail nearly taking his eye out in the process.

WHAT. She barely kept herself from hollering, wide eyes darting from Adrien to the two individuals in question, both of whom appeared as taken off guard as she was. A DATE?????

Félix cleared his throat as Bridgette’s cheeks took on a rosy hue.  

As though seeing through new eyes, Marinette examined the two more closely, realizing that they were both dressed quite nicely. Hyperaware that the outfit she had meticulously chosen that morning was no doubt hopelessly wrinkled after spending the majority of the day on the couch, she raised a hand, self-consciously smoothing it over her hair.

She eyed the way Bridgette's dark blue dress highlighted her figure, the deep colour helping to set off the tan she was building, making it look like she was glowing from within.

In other words, she looks very pretty, Marinette admitted rather begrudgingly to herself.

She groaned internally, resisting the urge to facepalm.

Ugh, excellent way to show him what he’s missing, you dope! Why be with your beautiful girlfriend in her sexy blue dress when you could instead date the human equivalent of a grubby lawn gnome?

“Yes,” Félix said, his brusque reply putting an abrupt end to Marinette's internal musings.

“We went to dinner at Salvatore’s,” Bridgette provided after a beat, when it became clear that Félix had no intention of elaborating any further.

Adrien shifted, leaning forward slightly with interest. “Oh, is that the new place down by the Palais?” Marinette twitched, fighting the impulse to turn and give him an incredulous look. Why the hell did he sound genuinely intrigued to hear about this?

What is he, running for Hostess of the Year or something? Marinette gritted her teeth. She didn’t want to hear any details about Félix and Bridgette’s date. Unless it was a detailed retelling of how horrifically it had gone, and how they had no intention of doing it ever again.

“Yes!” Bridgette beamed, obviously pleased that Adrien the Betrayer knew which place she was referring to.

“I’ve heard the food is really good there, but I haven’t had the chance to check it out yet," the blonde Brutus replied, oblivious to Marinette's growing ire. "The reviews online are generally pretty positive though.”

“It’s really great actually," the cushions dipped slightly as Bridgette sat down at the other end of the couch. "We didn’t try any of the dinner selections, but the lunch menu was to die for!” To Marinette's chagrin, she then launched into a fairly detailed retelling of their experience.

Seeing that his girlfriend clearly planned on being there for a while, Félix sighed, sinking reluctantly into a seated position beside her. Marinette didn’t know whether to be pleased he was staying or annoyed that he so clearly would rather be anywhere else.

Turning her eyes back to the movie that was still playing on the screen, she let the rise and fall of Bridgette and Adrien's voices wash over her, tuning the finer details of their conversation out as she tried not to pout.

It wasn’t long however before twin dinging sounds from Adrien and Félix’s phones drew the discussion to a halt, successfully dragging Marinette out of her strop.

Both brothers exchanged a look, faces bleached pale in the light from their screens.

“What is it?” She asked, turning to face Adrien more fully. He grimaced, flipping his phone over to lie face-down on the couch.

“Looks like we’re having dinner." Adrien's lips were pressed in a thin line, his expression taking on a pinched edge.

"With my father.”

Wait. He can't possibly mean—

“‘We’ as in you two?” She tried, hoping against hope that her suspicions would not be proven correct.

Adrien moved his head from left to right; a single, slow shake. Marinette’s stomach sank.

“I hope you guys are hungry.”

-x-

#ml fanfic #miraculous ladybug #adrinette #adrinetteapril2022 #marinette dupain-cheng #adrien agreste #adrienette #ml fic #miraculous fanfic #no miraculous au #childhood friends au #fake relationship #ml brothers au #every month is adrinette month to me but i'll take any excuse to celebrate lol #ongoing fic #my fics

[therenlover]

Would The Danny Bunch Survive A Holiday With My Family?

A/n: In the wake of recent life garbage, I have neglected to write a whole fic, and I’m sorry. In the interim, please enjoy this writing exercise I have put together in the hopes of nailing some characters I haven’t written for in the past in time for a larger project I’m working on! Cheers!

Characters: Laszlo Kreizler, Alex Kerner, Niki Lauda, Andrea Marowski, Ernst Schmidt, and Helmut Zemo

Rating: T

Warnings: Swearing, Mentions of Mild Misogyny, Mentions of Alcohol/Alcoholism, Mentions of Mental Illness, Non-Graphic Mentions of Death, Minor Spoilers for The Alienist Season One, Minor Spoilers for Goodbye, Lenin!, Spoilers for Rush (2013), Minor Spoilers for The Cloverfield Paradox maybe??? I haven’t actually seen the whole movie, blame Wikipedia if things are wrong. 

Laszlo Kreizler

NO

As the first of all of the Dannys to be put through the ringer, Laszlo Kreizler unfortunately would not survive a holiday with my family.

First of all, this man does not like massive huggy kissy crowds, so he’d already be off his game the second he walked into the packed house. That’s not why he’d die though, surprisingly.  

His downfall would be his status as an Alienist. 

There is simply so much mental illness and childhood trauma present at my family holidays that he would combust within 15 minutes of sitting in a room with all of my relatives.

Even if he were to somehow make it past the introductory phase, my family is nosey as hell, so they’d be grilling him about his arm and his own childhood trauma within the first hour. 

Laszlo, for all of his strength, simply wouldn’t be able to withstand it.

His death wouldn’t come from the initial combustion though. No, it’s not that simple. 

Knowing Laszlo, once he had combusted and entirely lost his composure the first time, he would become extremely intrigued about the interconnected nature of everyones issues with each other and he would start asking questions. 

That’s where the problems would begin. 

Because it’s one thing if my drunk great aunt starts badmouthing her sister at the table for abandoning her 90 year old mother for a lake house with her new boyfriend. That’s fine. 

But when Laszlo hops in and starts picking apart the mommy issues and underlying reasons for their decades long sibling rivalry? 

Oh it would be over for him. 

The yelling would never end. 

And, I have no doubt that Laszlo would start to psychoanalyze whoever started to yell at him, which would only lead to more yelling. 

In the end, someone would throw a probably full and probably fresh out of the oven casserole dish at his head and he’d be unable to defend himself because of his weak arm. 

We’d have to cart him out in a wheelchair and even if he were to technically survive, he’d never come back. 

Therefor, Laszlo Kreizler would fall victim to my family and die before we even got to dessert. 

Alex Kerner

YES

Ah, little baby Alex! A great contender here for holiday survival.

He seems relatively young in comparison to most of the Dannys on this list, though I don’t actually know how old he’s supposed to be. 

Based on his relative youth, he would automatically get points with the fam for not seeming like a creep or sugar daddy. Instead, he could be just about any dude I brought home from college. 

His skillset as a semi-skilled laborer would also earn him some points, seeing as several members of the family are in similar professions.

Alex might get lost in some of the more complex conversations about the local organic scene or the fine details of running a fine art gallery, but he would fit right in with the majority of the younger members of the family, smiling and nodding his way through the conversation. 

His enthusiasm and optimism would brighten the room and leave everyone excited to see him around again. 

There’s also the semi-small detail of him caring for his mother, which would earn sympathy from the older members of the family as they are in charge of caring for my deaf, blind great grandmother. 

Now, all of these aspects have already set Alex up for a successful survival of a holiday dinner with my family, but the real secret weapon he has up his sleeve is what really cements him in place as a survivor. 

What is his secret weapon, you may ask?

Lies.

Alex Kerner is really, really good at lying, and is even better at figuring out increasingly convoluted ways to keep his lies straight. 

If he managed to hide to fuckin’ Berlin Wall coming down from his mother for as long as he did, he could keep a couple of white lies up for appearances if he was asked any potentially embarrassing or weird questions that would make him look bad. 

He could also lie about enjoying my great aunt’s cooking, which is a vital skill for holiday survival in my family. 

Therefor, at the end of the day, Alex Kerner would not only survive a holiday with my family, but he’d probably enjoy it and get invited back for every subsequent holiday he could possibly attend. 

Niki Lauda

NO

Niki is another Danny that falls very firmly into the category of characters that would absolutely not survive a holiday with my family, for many, many reasons. 

First of all, just like Laszlo, Niki is not huge on going to big huggy kissy parties. 

Both adults and children would be all over him the second he walked in the door, which would probably make Niki get very uncomfortable and cagey. 

Little does he know at that point that people aren’t just all over you when you get in the door. 

No, no, no; from the moment you show up to the moment you leave, if you’re at a holiday with my family you are being basically accosted with questions and hugs and conversations that get weirdly personal. 

It doesn’t help that the whole entire house is packed and there are eyes on you at every moment, so he wouldn’t even be able to sneak in a break for air or a cigarette. 

If my own mother can’t sneak out for a smoke when she’s been going to these events her whole life, the new guy who’s still being vetted by the family sure as hell won’t be able to either.

Needless to say, Niki would start to get really, really tired of it all in an hour tops. I’ll give him until dinner at most. 

That’s where things would start getting really sticky.

See, a lovely little fact about the Niki Lauda that lives in my brain, as portrayed by Daniel Bruhl in Rush (2013), is that he’s just a little bit misogynistic. No more than would be period typical, but a little misogynistic.

Another fun little important thing to note is that my family is entirely matriarchal in nature. 

There are only 4 reoccurring male guests at family holidays out of about 20 to 25 guests at each event; My great aunt’s husband of many, many years, the two male siblings my mother has that live in the area, and the young son of one of those siblings. 

Men, specifically boyfriends, simply do not last in my family. They are considered pretty disposable and easily banned from family events after breakups or small mishaps. 

So, not only would Niki not have any other manly men there to chat about sports with over a scotch and a cigarette, he would be surrounded by so much estrogen that he would definitely struggle with his inner asshole even more than usual. 

In fact, we never have sports on, even on Thanksgiving. Poor Niki would be stuck hearing conversations about artisanal candlemakers and how to hand felt a woodland elf puppet.

Back to his downfall, the second he made a slightly sketchy joke about women in the kitchen at the dinner table to my great uncle, his fate would be sealed.

If you thought the yelling at Laszlo would have been bad, this yelling would be ten times worse, because he would be surrounded by like 20 very angry, very defensive, and very strong women waiting to beat the shit out of him and I would not be any help. 

He dug the hole, so he can climb out of it. 

In the end, his death would come when he tried to light a cigarette and calm himself down at the dinner table while trying to rescind his earlier statement, because smoking inside around all the precious textile art? Thats a big no no. 

My great aunt would grab the lighter right out of his hand, light up whatever cocktail she had at the moment, and throw it all directly into Niki’s face.

It would be like crashing his car all over again, only this time he would be surrounded by people who would rather he burn than try to get him out of the situation. 

Moral of the story, Niki would die within the first few hours of a holiday with my family because he made an asshole comment to a room full of women who don’t put up with that shit. Don’t be like Niki, even if you think you won’t get killed for it. 

Andrea Marowski

YES

Andrea is pretty much the polar opposite of Niki here, and I love him for it. 

He is very soft, very kind, very pure, and would never dare to say something rude at the dinner table like a certain racer we all know.

He couldn’t even say something rude if he tried to, because he probably wouldn’t have the English in his vocabulary to say the things he wanted to say even if he intended to say them out loud. 

But let’s be honest here, Andrea would never. 

Even with his limited English, Andrea would appreciate being surrounded by a whole bunch of people who think he’s the sweetest little thing since the invention of cake. 

My great grandmother, despite being almost entirely blind and deaf, would say he looked darling and he would immediately be a member of the family from the moment he stuttered out his thanks. 

Andrea, like Alex, is also relatively young, so he would get points for not being old enough to be my father. 

I feel like, because Andrea was shown living happily in a tiny village by the ocean with two old ladies, he would have an appreciation for craft, so he wouldn’t mind sitting quietly as my great aunt pawns off a handmade blanket from my great grandmother to him. 

He would also happily sit with the younger children and do whatever craft or simple game one of my aunts brought for them that time. 

The cherry on top with Andrea is his skill with the violin. 

My family is one that appreciates fine art a lot, but more than anything we appreciate music. 

I wouldn’t say that any of us are anywhere close to Andrea’s proficiency, but we definitely aren’t terrible, and we all can appreciate the effort, practice, and talent that goes into getting truly good on an instrument like Andrea is on his violin. 

He would be encouraged to play, of course, and he would happily oblige. 

If he felt comfortable enough, I could even see my great uncle grabbing his guitar, my cousin sitting at the piano, and my sister bringing out her own violin to do a little quartet with some simple song they knew as everybody else sang along. 

By the end of the holiday evening, once dinner was served and people were heading to the cars, Andrea would definitely be considered a member of the family. 

Needless to say, he’d survive and pass their tests with better than flying colors, even despite the language barrier. 

Ernst Schmidt

NO

Now, Ernst was probably the most difficult one on this entire list to put into the living or dying category. In the end, though, there were a few things that couldn’t be overlooked that send him into bad territory. 

To be fair, though, he would last the longest out of everyone who would die tragically at one of my family’s holiday gatherings. 

He, like the past two victims, would not be exactly suited for the mushy crowding that’s inevitable when it comes to my family. 

That being said, I think he would deal with it a little bit better than the other two did and would make polite conversation with the family when he could. 

The fact that he was trapped in a packed house filled with drunk people who have several generations worth of beef with each other, though, would start to get him eventually. 

If we consider all of the shit that happened while he was in space to be canonical minus, you know, the earth getting really fucked up, he would probably start to go a little bit nuts while packed together with that many passive aggressive people.

The second someone burst into tears on the way to the bathroom he would start to lose his shit. 

Still, I think Schmidt would probably be fine-ish until dessert was served, because that’s about the time where all the adults are absurdly drunk, so insanity ensues. 

They would start poking at him about his credentials and experiences as a physicist. 

He would answer their questions at first, but, unfortunately for him, the questions would turn more and more personal and uncomfortable as time went on. 

Did he ever still think about what happened up in space? Did he blame himself for not getting things to work correctly? How much did he miss his old world and old life? Did he ever have nightmares about what he saw? How much did it hurt to get shot?

They’d poke and poke and poke in their drunken state until poor Schmidt would snap at them, flying into a slight rage at their insistent probing. 

From there, he would be swiftly asked to leave and then “accidentally” run over while calling an Uber to take him to wherever he’s staying as my drunk great aunt tries to back out of the driveway to drive down the block to her house. 

In the end, Schmidt and his wit would be really close to surviving a holiday with my family , but he would, unfortunately, let his anger get the best of him, and it would be the last thing he ever did. Literally. 

Helmut Zemo

YES, BUT ONLY BARELY

Okay, so my earlier comment about Ernst being the most difficult out of everyone was incorrect. Zemo was, by far, the hardest to put into one category or the other. 

His wit and charm won out in the end, though, and I determined that he would survive one single holiday with my family. 

If he ever came back for a second he definitely wouldn’t make it, but he would succeed in living past the first one. 

Helmut’s problems start, surprisingly, not with the fact that he is a criminal. In fact that doesn’t even cause any problems for him. 

No, instead they start with the fact that he is 43.

I am 99% sure that my mother is 43, and I know for a definite fact that he’s older than one of my uncles who would be present. I, at the time of writing this, am 18. 

Needless to say, literally everyone would be massively suspicious of him and his intentions the second he walked through the door. The amount of money in his bank account definitely wouldn’t help in this situation either. 

The family would warm up to him eventually, though, because if there’s one thing Helmut is good at besides killing people, it’s making people like him even if they absolutely shouldn’t. 

With his expansive knowledge of what feels like literally everything rich and niche, he would slowly win over the older members of the family. Who knew the strange old man Jac brought home was so well versed in the American pottery scene, or that he could name specific jewelry artists from across the world that my family had done business with for years?

My family definitely wouldn’t. At least, not at first. 

Oh how they’d learn, though. 

Another nice thing about Zemo that would allow him to survive is his aggressive politeness.

No matter how many weird glances or dirty looks he got over the course of dinner, he would simply continue to be the best version of himself in the hopes of impressing everyone. 

He would even pretend to enjoy my great aunt’s cooking and get himself seconds, because I’m sure it would be easier to scarf down than whatever he and his EKO Scorpion squad had to eat while serving in the Sokovian special forces. 

On the tail end of reasons he would be accepted, Helmut Zemo drinks alcohol like it’s water, so he would fit right in drinking white wine and cocktails through the night with the rest of the adults. 

((I think he’d totally tease me about not being able to drink with him, but that’s a story for another time. Anyways...))

His slight downfall would come from something entirely uncontrollable by him or anybody else. 

And that something would be my flirty aunt. 

I love my aunt. She’s wonderful in her own special way. 

That being said, I know if a hot Sokovian baron with a nice smile and a fat pocketbook showed up to one of out holidays, even if he was introduced as my partner, she would be going for the kill all night long. 

This would make Helmut more and more uncomfortable as she got more and more drunk, because lets face it, he’s probably not very comfortable with being touched by near-strangers anyways, and being touched by a drunk member of his partners family who is very obviously coming on to him? 

That’s even more difficult to deal with. 

That being said, Helmut is a man who has been shown to be extremely in control of his emotions. 

He would swallow down whatever awkwardness he felt, make it to the end of the night, and, once he had escaped her clutches, he would politely say that he was never going back to another holiday function with my family again, though he would be happy to facilitate me still attending them. 

So, in the end, Helmut Zemo would survive one holiday with his sheer stubborn politeness alone. 

I will say that his patience would absolutely wear thin if he attended a couple more holidays and he would eventually die of a stress induced heart attack after being unable to politely decline my aunt’s advances. 

For now, though, he’s safe.

#zemo #baron zemo #helmut zemo #daniel brühl #daniel bruhl #niki lauda #andrea marowski #ernst schmidt #laszlo kreizler #alex kerner #jac rambles #imagine #the danny bunch

[ialwayscomewhenyoucall]

Every Drop of Grace

Endverse destiel

Rating: on the border between M and E (I’m over cautious, probably most people would say M)

About 3k

“Do you ever wish we could have something...normal?” Dean’s voice falls into the quiet night, a stone falling into a once-still pond.

Cas can’t hold back his snort. “Dean. You grew up hunting monsters. I’m a fallen angel. There was never going to be anything ‘normal’ about either of us.” Dean huffs in response, burying his face deeper into the hollow of Cas’s neck. “It also doesn’t help that our relationship–if that’s what you want to call it–began after the end of the world.”

“The world didn’t end,” Dean protests weakly. “It’s still here. It’s just…”

“Right,” Cas says, giving in to the urge to roll his eyes–it helps that Dean is behind him and can’t actually see his eyes. “The world is still here. We even have this tiny bit that’s almost safe.”

Dean doesn’t argue, though Cas can feel how much he wants to. Cas idly wonders if Dean ever argued a monster to death, but he doesn’t voice the thought. He doesn’t want Dean to leave. He smirks into the darkness, though. He can absolutely imagine a cocky, 13 year old version of Dean facing down a werewolf. “You’re doing it wrong!” shouts the smaller, higher-voiced Dean. “You need to lull me into complacency, then strike. No wonder you’ve been caught by a kid.

Cas chuckles softly at the made up–but completely plausible–memory. At Dean’s questioning hum, Cas skips his imaginings and brings the conversation back to where they started. “Considering the chaos all around us, I’d say what we have is amazing, Dean.” Having you at all is amazing, he does not say.

Dean smiles against Cas’s skin.

There is much Cas misses about being an angel–healing, flying, super-strength, not being so damned fragile–but on the opposite side, there are so many things that make the Fall worthwhile. He’d touched Dean when he was still an angel, and it had been nice enough. Better than nice even; there’d been something special about touching Dean from the first time he’d held the hunter’s broken soul in hell. But in this his human senses are far superior. The touch of Dean’s lips on the soft skin between Cas’s shoulder blades makes his heart race, his breathing quicken. Dean laughs, not more than a soft breath, and Cas’s stomach flips at the heat across his skin. He’s getting hard, just from a few small sensations.

Yes, the Fall was worthwhile. Even if they’re doomed, he wouldn’t trade this for all the Grace ever created.

Dean goes on, most likely unaware of Cas’s growing arousal. Cas focuses on Dean’s voice and on keeping his own breathing as even as possible, and soon he’s nearly as lost in Dean’s memories as Dean himself.

“I always tried to find fun stuff for Sammy, growing up.” Dean’s voice catches a little on his brother’s name, but he pushes through. “Most of the things I did pissed Dad off, but I didn’t let him stop me. The kid had to have something good in his horror of a childhood. Little things: a bag of marshmallows to roast over a campfire, a Monopoly game we could play in motel rooms, a baseball cap I knew he wanted. I found a pair of roller skates in his size once; I think he was about eleven. Man, that was a mess. Dumb kid took off like he knew just what he was doing and two yards later fell flat on his face. Dad put four stitches over his left eye and lectured him the whole time about what if that rock hit your eye instead of your forehead, blah blah blah. Sammy took it like a champ, didn’t flinch once, and as soon as Dad was gone Sammy put the skates right back on and took off again. And that time he didn’t fall. Well, he did, but not right away, and not so he needed stitches.”

Cas can tell Dean is working up to something, even if it all just seems like rambling. Dean is a roadmap, and sometimes Cas can follow. “A few months before I turned 16 I stole Dad’s car for a couple hours and took Sammy to a drive-in. You ever…?” Dean answers his own question before Cas has the chance to even shake his head. “Nah, you weren’t much of a movie-goer back in your halo days. At a drive-in you sit in your car to watch a movie–outside, at night. You park by a little speaker that pipes the sound right to you, and the screen is gigantic, big as...well, I don’t even know, it’s been too long, but trust me, it’s big. You look out the front of the car and all you see is the movie. You’ve got the sound filling up the car and the movie filling up your eyes and it’s like you and whoever you’re sitting with are in your own little world, whatever make-believe world the actors and all the rest made for you to live in. For a few hours, anyway.”

Dean’s voice is rough, almost raw. “That’s what we have, Cas. A few hours in a bubble full of make-believe, until the bubble pops and it’s the end of the world again.”

Cas wants to scream, to deny every word, to tell Dean it isn’t make-believe, it isn’t, and he wants to spend every minute from now until they fall to dust proving it, but instead he hears his traitorous mouth whisper, “I know.”

“It’s okay,” Dean says, and Cas isn’t sure which of them Dean is trying to comfort. “It’s okay. The pretending, the bubble–it’s enough.”

It isn’t. Cas wants it all, wants every bit of Dean. His smiles and his glares, his laughs and his curses, his happy chatter and his incoherent tears. He wants to be fucked into the mattress and then hold Dean in his arms until the sun comes up, to have Dean stay all night instead of slinking away in the darkness.

It isn’t enough. The coffee’s been gone for awhile, but he wants to make Dean tea in the mornings, good strong tea to bring a little of the sparkle back to his green eyes. He wants to go with him on foraging runs, venturing out of their little corner of the world to find supplies to last them just a little bit longer. He wants to have Dean’s back, to protect him, to keep him safe. He doesn’t have his mojo anymore, but he still has his blade, and he’s had millenia of practice to hone his skills.

Cas doesn’t want only darkness, grasping and clutching at each other when the rest of the world sleeps. He wants to give Dean every kind of pleasure, and maybe a little bit of peace. As a fallen angel, Cas doesn’t think he gets to go to heaven, but he doesn’t mind. He has here, he has now.

So this little bubble of half-truths and fairy tales…

It’s not enough.

Cas’s eyes begin to sting. “Fuck.” The word is mostly air, barely a sound at all, but of course Dean hears. Because Dean can see through Cas’s pretences too. That’s how these things work.

“Cas?”

“It’s nothing,” Cas says, but Dean sees through that too, maneuvering them both so they’re face to face on the narrow bed. Cas closes his eyes, willing the tears to stop before they can properly begin. He hates to cry, hates to have his feelings fly so far out of his control that they stream down his face in the form of wet, salty tears.

“It’s nothing,” he says again, when he trusts that his voice won’t give him away. Then, grasping at the first thought that passes through his head, he says, “I just don’t like when the bubble pops.”

The lines around Dean’s eyes soften. He presses a kiss to Cas’s forehead and says, “We’ve still got a few hours. I’m not going anywhere.” His yet is unspoken but Cas hears it anyway.

Dean’s got one hand holding the side of Cas’s face, fingers threaded into his hair, the other resting lightly on his hip. Their legs are tangled together, and when Dean moves in to kiss Cas again their hips move together and Cas can’t take it anymore. There is so much skin, it feels like skin for miles, but also like he can feel every individual cell, every molecule of Dean’s breath, every miniscule drop of sweat…

“Dean,” Cas groans, because it’s too much, his brain is going to overload. It doesn’t matter that they had sex not long ago–Cas needs more, needs to be closer. “Dean.” It’s almost a prayer. “Please.”

And Dean is there, even before he calls, pushing him onto his back. Dean kisses Cas, hungry, and Cas is happy–eager–to be devoured. He’s got his arms wrapped around Dean, clawing at his back, trying to pull them closer together. There’s a part of his brain screaming that Dean thinks this is all pretend, so maybe if Cas can get them close enough together, if he can somehow press the truth into Dean’s skin, then maybe Dean will understand.

But then Dean thrusts his cock (hard, so hard, and all for him) against Cas’s, and he stops thinking and just feels.

Cas throws his head back and Dean nips at his throat; Cas hisses and claws at Dean’s back again. There’s a growl coming from deep in Dean’s chest, but Cas can feel the smile against his skin. They both like the small shocks of pain–reminders of life.

Holding himself up on one forearm, Dean reaches between them, wrapping his strong, calloused fingers around both their cocks. A moan escapes Cas’s lips, and Dean chuckles softly. “Do you remember the first time we did this?” He’s looking deep into Cas’s eyes, and not for the first time Cas suspects he sees a bit of faerie in the emerald depths; enchanting, beautiful, tricksome, and dangerous. He knows there’s nothing to the thought; he knit Dean back together molecule by molecule, saw every strand of his DNA.

Dean twists his hand in a particularly skillful way and Cas is pulled back to the present. Their first time. Yes, Cas remembers. How could he forget?

“Summer sun,” Cas manages, in between gasping breaths. “Your freckles…”

“My freckles?” Dean laughs. “That’s what you remember?”

“I might be only human now, Dean Winchester, but I remember–” He gasps as Dean’s palm brushes against a particularly sensitive spot– “I remember every second of that afternoon with perfect–” Another shuddering gasp– “Perfect clarity.”

Dean’s hand stutters to a stop, and when Cas sees the look in Dean’s eyes something in his stomach twists. Don’t be too real don’t be too real shouts a voice inside his head, clearly battling with the part of him that wants Dean to know everything.

I’m a mess, he thinks.

To Dean he says in a low, broken voice, “I was leaning against the trunk of a tree, looking up at the sun shining through the leaves. It occurred to me that I’d never spent any time looking at trees, or leaves, or much of anything at all while I was an angel. I did what I was told. Didn’t even take time to look around and enjoy the view.”

Dean’s hand starts to move again. For a moment Cas’s eyelids flutter closed, his eyes rolling upwards in pure pleasure, but then he continues, concentrating on speaking slowly and carefully and without breaking. He almost succeeds.

“I hadn’t been human long. A month? Five weeks? Not long enough to get used to human senses. So when you walked up and the sun shone down on your face, your freckles standing out against your pale skin… And then you put your hand–” The memory of Dean’s hand reaching out is too much and he has to stop to breathe, to gain control, because he doesn’t want to come yet. The story isn’t over. “You put your hand on my shoulder and said, ‘Hey Cas.’”

That had been it. Just a touch, some freckles, and his name on Dean’s lips.

“There was something in your eyes,” Dean says, taking over the narrative. “I hadn’t meant to kiss you. But you looked...kissable. Blue eyes wide and…” He gives his head a quick shake. “I don’t know what it was. But as soon as our lips touched I knew it was the right thing to do. Knew I shouldn’t have waited so long to do it.” At this Cas raises his head up just enough to slot their lips together. It’s an electric current, sharp and warm, just like it always is.

It’s home.

“And then you pushed me up against my cabin wall.”

They’re both breathing heavy now, each of them close to their release but trying to hold on.

“It was the closest wall I could find,” Dean says, a little defensive, a little embarrassed. “And it was a little more hidden than the tree we started out against.”

If Cas had the breath to spare he’d laugh. He lets out a puff of air instead, and Dean’s eyes light up in response. “Yeah,” Cas says, teasing. “Sun shining down on us, completely visible from three sides, only blocked by the cabin. Couldn’t be bothered to–”

Dean stops him with a kiss. Cas doesn’t mind. Cas’s mind is full of lips and skin and hands and sparks and pleasure that is building and building and threatening to heave him overboard–

Cas is on the edge, barely hanging on, when Dean stops.

The stillness is both total and false. Neither of them moves, almost as if they are frozen in time, and there is no breath of wind coming through the open window, no branches scratching at the roof. But there are two hearts pounding, two men gasping for breath, and the whispers of a thousand words not being said.

Cas refuses to be the first one to speak. He knows if he opens his mouth, he’ll never stop.

It feels like an eternity has passed–though it’s probably only been ten or fifteen seconds, Cas’s sense of time has been skewed since his Fall–when Dean breaks the silence.

“What do you want, Cas?”

“Everything.”

Cas tells the truth, the real truth, before he can think, and for a moment he wishes he could somehow call the word back, erase it from history, go back to their bubble of make-believe. Dean would probably let him brush it off. He could call it sex induced lunacy. It’s probably even true.

But no. No. He’s fucking tired of pretend, of half-truths, of bedtime stories. This isn’t enough. He means it, he wants everything.

Dean is looking into his eyes, searching for something. Cas can’t read his expression, he’s guarding his thoughts too closely.

It hurts, having Dean hide from him. They’re naked and in each other’s arms, and Dean’s…

Well, really they’re both hiding. They’ve been hiding from the beginning.

Shit.

There’s a burning behind Cas’s eyes again, but this time he can’t blink the tears away. When the first tear rolls down Cas’s face Dean pulls back, a fraction of an inch, in surprise. His thumb wipes away the tear.

“Cas?”

“It’s not enough,” Cas says. “I can’t do this anymore, Dean. I meant what I said, I want everything. All of it. I want to spend the night with you and wake up with you in the morning. I want to kiss you in the daytime, with the sun on your freckles. Are you ashamed of me? The camp screwup, the broken angel? Because people talk, Dean. Everyone knows you come here, and they know what we do, and they don’t care. The world is falling apart. There are bigger things to worry about. There are bigger things for us, too, but right now all that matters is I can’t hide anymore. I love you, Dean. I think...no. I know I always have. And I don’t want to waste another second hiding in the dark.”

And Dean just looks at him. Once upon a time Cas put Dean together, molecule by molecule. Saw every bit of him. That’s how Cas feels now. Examined. Seen.

Known.

It should be horrifying, but it’s Dean, so Cas just looks back, waiting. He doesn’t even wipe away the tears that keep falling despite his best efforts to blink the damned things back.

The silence goes on so long Cas is sure Dean is going to get up and walk away. It’s okay, he tells himself. I want more, I want everything, but to love...that will never end. It will hurt, but I’ll still love him. No matter–

And then Dean is kissing him. It’s not heated, or frantic; it’s a soft, gentle kiss and makes Cas feel wrapped in love. They both smile, their foreheads pressed together. “Wish you’d said something sooner, Cas.”

“Didn’t want to push you away.”

Dean pulls back a little. “That’s...well, yeah, that’s…”

Smile widening, Cas says, “We’ll work it out.”

In what Cas supposes is an answer, Dean kisses him. A bit more playful this time, he even bites at Cas’s lower lip. Cas can’t hold back his moan. The feel of teeth rasping against his skin…it’s almost too much.

And then Dean’s hand starts moving again, tugging and twisting at their dicks. Cas is almost startled, he’d been so caught up in his confession of– but now isn’t the time, he’s groaning into Dean’s mouth and he thinks there might be words but his brain isn’t quite connected to the rest of his body at the moment. All he knows is good and Dean and so much love and skin and when Dean murmurs Cas’s name it’s too much for him and he spills his seed between them. Dean chases after, a punched out sound falling from his lips.

They lie together, still, their come sticky and drying between them. Somewhere far off in the camp a door clatters shut.

“I wish–” Dean starts.

“I know,” Cas interrupts. But it’s not the time to dwell on what might have been.

Dean shifts them into a more comfortable position. “Okay.”

“We should–”

“No.” This time it’s Dean interrupting. “Not yet. We can clean up in a few minutes. Right now I just want to hold you.”

Tucking his face against Dean’s chest, Cas murmurs, “I can’t say no to that.”

Dean somehow pulls Cas closer, and Cas’s skin sings. Worth every feather, he thinks. Every drop of Grace.

**

For @bend-me-shape-me ‘s Dean/Cas summer prompts!

Week 2 (drive-in cinema) and week 3 (I can still recall our last summer)

I hit week 3 kinda sideways…but it works!

#lirael writes #deancassummerprompts21 #endverse destiel #love confessions #angst with a happy ending #this makes me happy

[true-blue-megamind]

FAN THEORY THURSDAY – Why Did Metroman Retire?

Happy Almost-Friday, everyone! And even though Minion threatens to smother everything he cooks in old Limburger cheese each time I say it: SPOILER WARNING!

Yes, I know, it’s three a.m. and it’s technically Friday, but I’m still calling this Thursday night, and there’s nothing you can do about it.

Okay, let’s be honest, Metroman is a character who seems, on the surface, to require little explanation in the film Megamind. He’s only present in the beginning and end, and we spend half the movie believing he’s dead, and we learn that Metroman has done something almost unheard of among superheroes: he’s chosen to retire. The question is: why? There is a tendency to think that he's simply a spoiled rich boy who, (in his social life, at least,) does what he wants without regard for others, but is that really fair? Or could there be other possible reasons? Well, let’s take a look at a few fan theories that may explain why he chose to abandon heroism for a music career.

Metroman Didn’t Want to Be a Hero

Although he’s clearly based on—and perhaps even poking a little fun at—the Man of Steel, Metroman was no Superman. (I mean, okay, he was technically a super-man, since he had strength, speed, and powers far beyond what a human would possess.) Except, here’s the thing: he’s not a carbon copy of the Man of Steel; Metroman and Superman have completely different lives and personalities. This remains true despite the fact that they share a similar origin—that of being aliens from a dead planet—and identical powers—including laser-vision and flight. Even their code names are comparable. However, if we look deeper, it becomes obvious that Metroman and Superman are two very different characters.

Superman is all about being an upstanding hero. Although he can be annoyingly persnickety, and sometimes displays nearly oppressively unyielding strictures about right and wrong, one thing you can say about the Man of Steel is that he’s generally integral. He is exactly what his public image portrays him to be: a Good Guy through and through. The same isn’t true of Metroman, and in some ways that makes him a more complex and interesting character.

The childhoods of the two heroes are extremely different. As I’ve mentioned in Why Was Megamind Raised in Prison, when a boy, Metroman was a bully, not only making young Megamind an outsider and the object of everything from teasing to physical attacks, but also inspiring other students to do the same. Superman, on the other hand, far from being a bully was bullied by Pete Ross. Rather than using his powers against others, he was too responsible and good-hearted to use them even against Pete Ross. Metroman is adopted by super-wealthy parents, and is essentially a trust-fund baby, while Superman was adopted by a farm family. He grows up with a good work ethic and hometown values. Indeed, this economic discrepancy continues into adulthood. As far as we can tell, Metroman doesn’t need to work and has no job outside being a superhero. Superman, conversely, has to earn a living as a journalist. Finally, in the majority of comics, Superman avoids most public appearances, unless he feels they serve some beneficial social purpose. Indeed, he goes to great lengths to keep his identity a secret and avoid the public eye as much as possible. The first time we see Metroman in the film, however, he is basking in a crowd’s adoration at the dedication of a museum in his honor. Indeed, in the original script, then called Mastermind, Metroman’s real identity seems to be widely known. (In case you’re wondering, this is where the name Wayne Smith, commonly used in the fandom, originates from.) So, we see that these character are actually very different: one is a hero strictly for the greater good, and the other, while he certainly does a lot of good things, is also in it for the fame.

This may seem like I’m being harsh toward poor Wayne Smith, but his flaws do not, in fact, make him a bad person. The issue is that we’re comparing him to Superman who, while still certainly imperfect, is intended to be a better-than-average person in every way, including moral. Make no mistake, Metro City’s former hero isn’t any sort of villain; what he is is normal. If we’re honest, most of us would be pleased by wide-spread accolades and honors. He reacts to positive fame the same way nearly anyone would because, at his heart, he’s really just a typical guy. That is the material point: Wayne Smith really only wants to be an average citizen—a music star, perhaps, but still a relatively ordinary person. In that way, he and Megamind are alike: they both desire, more than nearly anything else, to be normal. The key difference is that Megamind’s sincere and driving concern for his city also makes him ideal for becoming a hero. (You can learn more about this particular fan theory in The Warden and in Megamind and Identity.)

So, why did Wayne Smith become a Defender in the first place, then? Again, I’ve briefly touched on this in previous posts, but it appears likely that Metroman was pushed into heroism just as much as Megamind was pushed into supervillainy. Because he was a bully with superpowers, it’s likely that adults around him realized something had to be done about Wayne. Otherwise he was a danger. So, they constructed an environment—the Li’l Gifted School—where he could be conditioned to seek the praise of others as well as to fight Megamind, who had been singled out as his future nemesis. (In fact, that conditioning is probably why he opted for a career that would put him on stage, aside from a probable love of music.)

Because the path chosen for Megamind involved more hardships and pain, it’s easy to forget that Metroman was in essentially the exact same plight. However, the fact remains that these were both children, and they were both being coerced into perceived destinies they didn’t want. Neither of them were given a choice and, in the end, both of them cast off the expectations pressed upon them to become the people they really wanted to be. The difference is that, because of our natural biases, Megamind’s rise to Defender of Metro City seems more noteworthy than Metroman’s step into Mr. Average Joe. The truth, however, is that both characters were basically doing the same thing: being true to themselves.

Metroman May Have Had Health Concerns

We know Megamind and Metroman are close to the same age—although the latter appears to be about a year rather than days old when he lands on Earth—but what that age is is open to supposition. We know, however, that they are almost certainly in their thirties, probably in their mid- to late-thirties. (Take a look at How Old is Megamind for more information about that.) However, we can see that Wayne is already going gray around the temples. Of course, some people’s genetics simply cause them to go gray earlier, and that’s certainly a possibility, but one fan theory suggest there may be more going on. The idea has been put forward that Wayne’s super-speed may be having an adverse effect on him, forcing his body to work overtime to keep up. The resulting physical stress could be making him age prematurely.

That’s not the only factor to consider. As hard as heroism may have been on his body, the effects on Metroman’s mind would have been even greater. Before the events in the movie, Metro City’s authorities—and, indeed, all its citizens—became too reliant upon their superhuman hero, and as a result that hero was run ragged. That isn’t a mere hypothesis. A scene that was storyboarded but never included in the final film makes Metroman’s plight perfectly clear. We see him being called from one end of the city to the other for everything from a massive explosion to an old lady needing help opening a jar. Keep in mind that, when hearing a cry for assistance, the hero would likely be unable to tell who truly needed him urgently and who was simply making unnecessary demands, thus he would have to rush to every call he heard. Even the city’s law enforcement seems to take him for granted, refusing to take criminals he just hand-delivered to jail because they’re on lunch break. The cumulative effect is that Metroman looks nearly frantic with stress.

This is important because, aside from the obvious mental and emotional concerns, this sort of stress accelerates aging as well. According to an article in the Huffington Post, when glycation and telomere shortening, as well as the over-oxidation, are caused by enduring heightened stress for prolonged periods of time, it can result not only in graying hair and premature wrinkles, but heart trouble as well. Even the memory can be affected, as one study by the University of Wisconsin found that stress can age a person’s brain up to four years faster than normal, and contribute to cognitive problems later in life. (The study was part of a presentation—you have no idea how badly I wanted to write that word in all-caps—and is thus currently unpublished, but information about it can be found in an article from Over Sixty.)

Metroman Retired for the Good of Everybody

As you can see, in a strange way, having a super-powered Defender was actually crippling Metro City. In fact, it may be truly damaging to the local infrastructure and official organizations. Youtuber Olaf Scholtens, in his video Megamind: Power and Identity, uses the metaphor of an airplane manufacturer to explain what’s going on. (If you’ve read my own post Megamind and Identity, you’ve seen this before.) Engineers and factories put a lot of effort and expense into making certain aircraft are as safe as possible, but what would happen if they felt they could confidently assume a superhero would simply catch any plane that crashed, saving everyone on board? Safety standards would probably become far more lax, and people might be in far more danger as a result. Given the way that nearly everyone in Metro City seems to assume Metroman will always save the day, it’s possible that, within the urban area, the same thing could be happening with things like building code enforcement, large construction projects, and even public safety measures. Bridges might not be properly built, fire hazards might not be addressed, and, given the blasé attitudes of the cops in the storyboard, law enforcement officers might not even be bothering to keep an eye on things. By retiring, Metroman forced the city to become more self-sufficient again.

That, however, may not have been the only problem Metroman was trying to solve. Remember the whole discussion about the former Defender’s school boy bullying and the apparent conspiracy to turn one boy into a hero and the other into a supervillain? It’s possible Wayne may have felt remorse for the former and found out about the latter. Having battled Megamind so much in the past, he also may have realized that the blue man never actually hurt anyone, and in fact went out of his way to stage their confrontations in abandoned places. (Again, you can read more about that in both Megamind and Identity and The Warden.) It may be that Metroman real “brilliant plan” wasn’t simply to fake his death, but in doing so to prod Megamind into becoming a hero and thus accepted by society.

There is an alternative theory, put forward in a Reddit post, that Megamind and Metroman’s parents may have known one another, and may have sent both children to Earth with the intention of them becoming a dynamic duo, fighting evil together with Megamind as the brains and Metroman as the brawn. This could have been what Megamind’s father meant when he told his son: “You are destined for greatness.” While there is very little support for this in the movie, it would explain why, in the vast cosmos, both of the young survivors were sent not only to the same planet, but even to the same city.

Whatever the reason may have been, one thing is certain: there certainly is some evidence that Metroman intended his one-time nemesis to become a hero. One of his lines, after Roxanne and Megamind discover he’s still alive, supports this. You know the one. “If there’s bad, good will rise up against it. It’s taken me a long time to find my calling; now it’s time you find yours.” Then, of course, there is another line, when Music Man is watching his former enemy take the role of Defender of Metro City: “way to go, Little Buddy. I knew you had it in you.”

If Metroman really did purposefully help Megamind step into heroism, that could also explain why he didn’t stop Megamind from taking over the city—perhaps he trusted the blue man not to harm anyone and to eventually come to his senses—as well as why he refuses to overtly help defeat Titan. He does, however, clearly subtly assist Megamind, as the latter almost certainly went back to Wayne’s hideout to scan his appearance and voice into the holowatch. All of this together makes it seem quite plausible that Metroman not only wanted to retire, but also wanted the blue man to take his place.

Megamind and Metroman by White-Night-56 on Deviant Art

Maybe this means that, now that Megamind is the Defender of Metro City, he and Music Man occasionally get together to commiserate over the more difficult aspects of being a superhero and joke about the old days.

It’s also quite possible that all of these fan theories could be true. The film Megamind is, among other things, surprisingly subtle, complex, and subversive for an animated movie. Every time I dive deep into some aspect or other of the plot, I am once again impressed by the amount of thought and detail that went into this work. No wonder Megamind—and its characters—have so many dedicated fans.

#Megamind #Megamind movie #Metro Man #Metroman #Wayne Smith #Megamind fan theory #Megamind fan theories #DreamWorks #hero #Defender #Metro City #fan theory #fan theories #Fan Theory Thursday #Megamind fandom #Youtube #megamind