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bubblergoespop · 3 months

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My Top Sam Quotes

i love me some cowboy ♡ yeehaw and all that

“You’re a werewolf, not a damn tank, what the hell were you thinking?”

“I want you comfortable. What that looks like, you tell me.”

“Oh god, don’t call the 90’s vintage, you’re gonna give me a complex.”

“Don’t you whistle like that at me you smartmouth, this ain’t anything you haven’t seen. I am not blushing. I don’t blush.”

“Mr. Shaw.”

“You’re a big softie under it all too. Boop.”

“You don’t have to keep the armor up tonight. The fighting’s done. You can just rest. I got you, Darlin.”

“You’re my heart, Darlin’.”

“Oh you hush, of course that got my heart speeding up again. Wiseass.”

“Have some popcorn, it’ll soothe you.”

“Matter of fact, yes, I do know how to get food delivered nowadays. Do you know what the inside of a grocery store looks like?”

“Yeah yeah, I’m a mother-hen, what else is new?”

“Don’t worry, if the shock takes you out, I’ll be sure to catch you.”

“You feel like home, Darlin’.”

“It’s a Vamp’s favorite season. Well, my actual favorite season’s Fall, but you get me.”

“That’s for strangers. We can be as mean to family as we damn-well please.”

“How do you wanna do this? You wanna ride your cowb- you little-“

“You feel like sunlight on an easy day. That warmth and that comfort. Gentle and all around.”

“You like that? You gonna be good for me?”

“Hey. Look at me. Please.”

“Yeah, you’re awful put-upon. Your mate’s a heartless old curmudgeon who wants his arm rest.”

“No. No, I’m not falling asleep. Couldn’t be me. I’d never do such a thing.”

“Your vampiric pillow awaits.”

“Hey. Jokes aside. You do make sense, Darlin. Just cause some people don’t wanna put in the work to understand why doesn’t mean you don’t.”

“What the hell do you have against flannel? It’s efficient.”

“Oh I’m sure. My big bad wolf certainly would never get tired after a completely understandably draining day,”

“Tell me how you look so damn good right after waking up. Bullshit. You look heavenly.”

“You know better than me that if you don’t answer that goofball he’s just gonna keep calling.”

“Man’s gotta point. [smack] Ow.”

“Make it two.”

“I’m an equal opportunist shit-stirrer once you make the mistake of getting close to me.”

“You keep that up and I'll buy a walker just so I can beat your ass with it.”

“I didn’t realize those were our names, I thought he was drawing pictures…”

“Who you calling an underdog, pup?”

“Oh, so I’m a flop now?”

“Want some chocolate? It might soothe you.”

“Darlin’ what the hell is an Igglybump?”

“Play nice. I know you can even if you don’t like to.”

“Being so good for me. Wait until I tell ya.”

“So what if I am soft for you? You deserve soft.”

“I am not charming. I’m a moody curmudgeon, and I like it that way, thank you very much.”

“When I’m with you, my brain takes up shop in the wrong head.”

“Keep his name out of your fucking mouth.”

“I’ve got you. Tears aren’t ‘stupid’, Darlin’. They’re human. You don’t have to hold back any part of yourself with me.“

“[punch] That’s for Frederick. [punch] That’s for his Progeny. [punch] And that’s for me.”

“The only thing that makes the two of you worse hellions than you already are is when you put your scheming heads together on something.”

“I’m practically a glorified backpack”

“I want you moving like this in a different position. Mmhmm. How did you put it back in the day? ‘Riding your cowboy’?”

“You’re so damn beautiful. You are.”

“My big bad wolf. I get to say that without getting hit nowadays? My, the times are a-changing.”

“Look. You can call me every version of ‘cowboy’ you want, but you keep ‘duke’ just locked up in that pretty head of yours, you got it?”

“It’s a fancy dick-swinging contest with a side of hors d’oeuvres.”

“Vincent. You’re my family, and I love you, so please don’t take this the wrong way, but four years ago when he was still around, you were just as much of a pain in the ass to be around most of the time.”

“What you and me got is stronger than any of this bullshit the world throws at us. Even if the world’s got a hell of an arm, lately.”

“Brown. My eyes were brown.”

“Where do you want these fangs, baby?”

#this one’s really long #even after cutting it down #i forgot how many more audios sam has than avior and porter #redacted sam #redacted darlin #redacted audio #redacted asmr #redactedverse #bubbler’s top quotes

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natalchartnurtures · 6 months

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Mars Be Down to Earth

Note: This post might not give you anything new if you're at an intermediate or advanced level of being on the astrology wildride :p

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Earth Mars, on a good day: "I've nailed the art of deliberate moves. I go through my day with a solid purpose and a sprinkle of precision. I act, grounded in Earth's wisdom—that's the secret to my 'it' life"

Why?- So, we step into the cool world of Earth Mars. The Earth element is known for its steadfastness and its mastery of making what I refer to as 'money moves'. Because Earth is their turf; that's what they know like the back of their hand. It's their arena, and we're just hanging out in it, you know? I love admiring these creatures simply existing in their habitat. I learn a lot from them because I barely have any Earth in my birth chart at all, lol.

But yeah—Earth energy is all about being practical, grounded, and reliable, kind of like standing on solid ground, really. This Mars crew has a solid drive for the material world, finding fulfillment in real, concrete accomplishments. This is because they understand the tangible world like none of the other elements can. It's their superpower. They have the potential to realize their manifesting potential if they choose to align with it. They stand to be master manifestors and can teach it to the rest of us peasants as well.

There are a couple of ways, out of the infinite ways, it could manifest.

It could show up as a patient persistence, a (extremely sexy) dedication towards whatever it is you desire to have in your life. Plus, you probably dig channeling your energy into creative and sensory experiences, wink wink because you've got standards and love being comfortable. You could be interested in the idea of lasting success over instant gratification. in which case, good for you, Taurus Mars. You're already better than most of us on days when you're feeling yourself. If you can harness this power of yours, you stand to create successes that most people can ONLY dream of achieving. Your methodical approach to most things in life allows you to map out a plan to realize any dream—honestly, any god-loving dream out there. With your step-by-step strategic approach and action, you could go places, kid.

Now, if disciplined ambition, hard work, action rooted in wisdom, and endurance got thrown into a pot, the resulting concoction would be none other than a Capricorn Mars. Honestly, it's crazy how this sign tames the flames of Mars to bring out a more mature and sophisticated version of the fiery energies of Mars. Mars here isn't as prone to being impulsive, resulting in all its energetic impulses getting funneled into pure goal-oriented action, on a good day at least. It's the marriage of bold initiation and relentless hard work. What do you think the child of this is going to turn out to be? Legendary success? If you guessed that, you'd be correct. Efficiency might as well be this Mars' middle name here, and really its all about, in wise words, getting shit done. It's reliable, driven, capable, and acutely aware of what it takes to bring a desire about. It's honestly deliciously sexy to watch y'all do your thing. Keep going, you hot ass baddies. Show us what you're made of :]

Imagine Mars playing chess. If you did, you probably caught the essence of Virgo Mars. Smart, fast-thinking, doesn't miss the details and perfection-striving, Mars here is quite a force to be reckoned with. Mars goes for nothing but precision and will achieve it no matter how long. You guys will analyze the living crap out of any of your mistakes, which allows you to learn from them in a deeper way and make some pretty efficient changes to your overall plan to get where you need to go. Y'all are adaptable like that, which is quite impressive—it's great decision-making. Another thing about Mars here is that Virgo bestows a service-oriented mindset to the natives having this Mars, which, in turn, makes y'all humble-ass badasses, which is ridiculously amazing. OMG. Also, y'all enjoy taking care of your physical bodies and well-being, and it shows! Y'all love looking the part as you're kicking ass on your good days. This energy commands respect in a quiet way, which is low-key some big-dick energy. Love it!"

So that was my take on Mars in the Earth element. hope you liked it!

#astrology #spirituality #zodiac #capricorn #taurus #virgo #earth mars #astrology readings #astrology community #taurus mars #virgo mars #capricorn mars #zodiac insights #astrology observations

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ironmandeficiency · 1 year

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the best gift

pairing: fíli / fem!reader

word count: 2975

summary: your husband is sent on a diplomatic mission to reestablish trade. this trip unfortunately falls during your first birthday in erebor as fee’s betrothed

a/n: my march piece for the year of themed creation ( @yearofcreation2023 ) that i didn't finish in time bc life sucks ass. nâthuê kurdu means “daughter of my heart”, & namadith means "little sister" in khuzdul. the stone gifted to the reader is amazonite. also, see if you can find my “blind burglar” reference lol (that series has taken over my brain holy shit)

“do you truly have to go, fee?”

fíli’s forehead gently thumps against yours, his hands holding you close. “i’m sorry, ghivashel. i wish i didn’t have to go until after, but there’s only so much that can be done from such a dístance.”

you knew he was right, that reestablishing trade to erebor was crucial in gaining a sturdy foothold in the mountain. and since he’s the heir apparent, he has to uphold the duties of his status.

that doesn’t make fíli missing your birthday any less dísappointing.

“i promise you, my love, i will make every effort to be home before your special day.” his lips press gently against yours and you let yourself go in his embrace.

with a playful tug on his braided beard, you bid him safe travels before he mounts his pony and rides off.

~ two weeks before your birthday ~

from the day he set out, fíli wrote you all sorts of letters. their contents ranged from how deeply he loved you, to what he had to eat a few days prior, to the weird mannerisms of animals he encountered (there was a ferret that followed him for two whole days that he named thistle, silly little thing). at the end of every letter, for his own reassurance, he wished you a happy birthday in all sorts of flowery language courtesy of balin’s lessons. if the ravens knew he did this because he was frightened of the letters not reaching you in time, they probably would have pecked him a new orifice or two for doubting their efficiency.

the latest letter (and all the others before) had arrived courtesy of a raven named jessamy, a sweet hen that made her favor for your husband over the other royals very much known. she chittered softly at you from the windowsill to get your attention before squawking just loud enough to rouse you from your concentration.

“princess consort! another letter from your husband!”

rising from your desk, you approach the window and give the faithful bird a good chin scratch. “i told you, jess, you don’t have to use titles with me. we’re far beyond all the formalities.” your hands deftly untied the missive from her leg before inviting the raven inside.

it was tradition by now: every time you received a letter from fíli, the loyal raven was offered food and rest on a special cushion you had made specifically for her while waiting for you to pen your reply. jessamy was quite the conversationalist and far more favored company compared to many of the nuisance nobles that now occupied the mountain. the two of you would gossip about your respective circles and duties with afternoon tea before she carried your reply to fee.

she fluffed her wings with indignance. “being an adult or not, i think adad would have my tail feathers if he heard me being so casual with you and prince fíli.”

it took no small amount of willpower to keep from guffawing in your friend’s face. “you think roac is constantly professional with thorin? i’ve heard him on no less than three occasions call uncle an absolute fool!”

“‘do as i say, not as i do’ is a phrase i’ve heard since before i could fly, if that provides any context.”

you chuckled at the turn of phrase that sounds eerily like something thorin would say. “well, the offer still stands, my friend. you know my name and have freedom to use it however you please.”

“duly noted, princess,” her tone told you that she wasn’t planning on doing so anytime soon. dropping the topic, you choose instead to sit and read fíli’s latest letter.

my dearest love,

the weather has been suspiciously kind to us this past week, but i cannot find it in me to look this gift boar in the mouth. we braved but a brief sprinkling from the heavens, and my company was graced with the sight of a rainbow. if i had any sort of artistic ability in my bones, i’d have spent hours simply drawing the colored light as it dísappeared behind the hills we previously crossed.

i saw the strangest mushroom a few hours after i sent jessamy back to you the time before this, far too late to include it in my letters. it was bright red and oozed something alarmingly bloody when fractured. it looked as if someone slapped a piece of venison onto a tree and called it a fungus. i sliced a piece off to give to oin, i believe he would appreciate it.

as your birthday draws ever nearer, i continue to fear that i won’t arrive home in time to celebrate by your side. as i have in every letter previously, i will remind you that i love you with every muscle and bone in my body. everything i do, i do in hopes i will continue to be the dwarf you deserve, to be someone worthy of your hand. happy birthday, my love. i’ll be home soon.

your prince,

fíli

the smile on your face hurt your cheeks. your dear husband was such a sap that he could rival that of every tree in the woodland realm.

the ornate wooden box you recently commissioned special from bifur sat on your desk, lying in wait for the latest letter to fill it. nothing could bring you to throw away any of the letters fíli has written to you, so you saved every single one all the way back to when you first met him, long before erebor was reclaimed. their new home was far more fitting than the tattered cloth and twine that kept them safe prior to coming to erebor.

would you eventually need to either size up or get more boxes made? most definitely. but for now, this latest letter would fit perfectly inside the box in front of you. adding the date it was received to the bottom, the parchment found its new home among fellow letters.

~ the morning of your birthday ~

fíli wondered, not for the first time in his life, why he allowed himself to be roped into the ridiculous plans his brother concocted. he had just arrived back in erebor mere hours ago, but instead of immediately running to you, here he was in a box. the one good thing was that it was surprisingly spacious, considering that it was, in fact, still a box.

it was all because kíli was unable to finish your true gift from him in time, which is to be a set of leather armor made from hide he collected and tanned himself. he asked dori for your measurements and to help with the ornate stitching he had planned, but other than that, everything was done by his hand alone. but his foolish brother had mistaken the month of your birthday for the one directly after, and now there was no time to see it truly complete.

that’s why he was in a box in the common room of the royal wing.

your party (or at least, the private one) wouldn’t commence until the early afternoon, but kíli was insistent on him staying in his paper-wrapped tomb until it was time. you were to receive gifts from your friends and family, and seeing as many of them would lend themselves to be something you would wear to the royal celebration, the private one would happen first.

at least his brother (and bilbo) were sneaking him food and drink from a sneakily hidden hole so he wouldn’t starve before the festivities began.

you woke up to the sound of your mother-in-law rifling through your wardrobe. rubbing your eyes to rid them of the crust from a good sleep, you broke through her whispered mutterings. “amad, what…”

she ignored you in favor of continuing to tear your room apart. “there’s no time, you should have been bathed and braided an hour ago!” at first you’re very confused, but then you remember the day.

groaning, you untangle yourself from your blankets, thankful that your husband warned you that amad would be in your rooms when you woke the morning of your birthday. you were in a more presentable pair of nightclothes than you would have been otherwise.

she heard you ruffling about and immediately approached you, her usual no-nonsense eyes also housing the fondness that only came from a mother. “oh good you’re up. there’s already a bath waiting with your favorite soaps, and when you get out your clothes will be waiting on your bed for you. i’ll help you dress, then we can braid your hair properly.” it was like she never stopped to breathe.

before you could even reply, she was shooing you towards the bathroom while tugging at your nightclothes. “now off you go! no daughter of mine will arrive at her own birthday celebration looking like a hooligan.”

if you were a bit more awake you would have laughed.

some minutes later (no matter how much you wanted to enjoy your morning bath, it would be most unwise to keep dís waiting), you emerged from the bathroom and marveled at the gown that lay waiting for you on the bed.

dís noticed your entrance and smiled at the way your eyes lit up while taking in the fine work. it was dyed in the same durin blue you wore on the day of your wedding, with such intricate work along the hem that you couldn’t help but open your mouth in awe. “dori’s talent never dísappoints, does it?” you nodded your agreement in stunned silence.

there were the signature embroidered sharp edges that defined dwarven fashion, many segments adorned with crystal chips sewn directly into the dress. it wasn’t a crystal you were immediately familiar with, but you enjoyed the way the lighter blue contrasted the deep blue with a bright pop.

“as much as we’d both like to stare at the dress for the next several hours, it would look much better on you.” you bit back the scandalous comment that came to mind that involved your husband liking it better on the floor of your rooms. you’ve been spending far too much time with your brother-in-law.

for being so beautiful, you thought it would be an absolute pain to actually get on. much to your surprise, it slid on your body like a glove. dís fastened it closed and once you were snug inside the gown, she all but pushed you into the chair in front of your vanity to begin braiding your hair.

with the barest amounts of makeup and braids weaved into your hair tighter than gloin’s coin purse, she finally set you free for the moment. she dug in the pockets hidden in the folds of her own dress - something she always insisted on you requesting as well - until she pulled out a small box with the seven stars of durin on the lid.

she placed the box in your hands, her strong, callused ones firmly holding yours into place. “this is my gift for you, nâthuê kurdu. a piece that symbolizes the bond you share with fíli, made by my own hand to celebrate the daughter i never thought i would get.”

it was a beautifully made necklace that had you captivated at first sight. the chain itself was a delicate weave of copper and silver, but the pendant was what gave you pause. it was the sun and moon; the sun was made of tiger’s eye, the stone that dís christened her firstborn with at his own majority, and the moon was made of the same stone that adorned parts of your dress. they faced each other and around them, wrapped in more wire, were diamonds representing the seven stars.

“dís, you didn’t…”

“oh, my daughter, you’ll find that i did.”

“will you tell me about it?”

she gave you your own stone, an honor you knew she only gave to a very select few.

her eyes were glistening just enough to tell you that she was feeling the love as strongly as you were. “it’s a stone given to help find one’s voice, a conduit to aid in speaking from the heart. it influences calm in the owner and will serve you well for the rest of your days, not just as a future queen of erebor, but as a wife and friend.”

you would have been in tears at her speech if not for the playful glare she gave you warning of the consequences of ruining the makeup. “i don’t know what- thank you amad, i will treasure this piece until the end of my days.” that’s all you knew to say, all you could say without blubbering.

after helping you put it on, she wrapped you in a strong embrace that put you back together seamlessly. “if this is how you act with only a necklace, i don’t think you’ll have a chance of retaining composure once we’re back with everyone.”

she was definitely right about that. thorin’s gift of an intricate silver circlet embedded with both yours and your husband’s stones had your bottom lip dangerously quivering. he would have been bowled over at your tackle-hug had he not been already sitting down. he merely smiled and pet your head softly, bilbo passing you a handkerchief to wipe the water from your eyes.

thankfully, you were already familiar with the hobbit tradition of giving gifts on one’s birthday instead of receiving, and had presented him with a set of ceramic teacups and matching saucers you made. they weren’t the same high quality fine china he was passed down by his relatives back in the shire, but they could hold tea just fine. it was given with love and usefulness in mind and to bilbo, that’s what mattered.

with every gift you were given, you felt like you could fly with the ravens from the joy. kíli looked oddly suspicious through the entire ordeal, which would have been slightly worrying had it not been your birthday. he wasn’t daft enough to prank you on such an important day lest he risk the wrath of his mother.

it was even worse when he avoided giving you your gift each time the others badgered him to present it already. their gifts had already been presented and your heart filled with love from each.

“kíli, where is your gift?”

“well, uh, you see, what happened was-” dís leveled a glare at him that could have frozen mount doom. “i didn’t finish it in time. but! the moment i complete it, i shall present it with all the pageantry it deserves.”

“well if you don’t have yours to give, then who’s that massive brick from?” dwalin pointed to the massive box. he raised a very valid point that led many a bearded chin to be stroked in confusion. kíli was the last one who hadn’t given his gift, yet while he says his gift wasn’t finished, there was still an unopened present waiting around the fireplace.

you approached it warily, wondering what in the world it could hold to warrant the size of its container. kíli revealed nothing. “just open it and you’ll see, namadith.” the smirk he wore belied trouble of the worst kind.

maybe he wasn’t as intelligent as you gave him credit for.

“i swear, inudoy, if that box has anything that risks ruining the joy of this day, i will tan your hide and give what little meat there is on your bones to bombur to serve with tonight’s dinner!” dís’s warning did nothing but widen the grin on his face, which would have been rather frightening if you couldn’t hear muffled laughter from the box in front of you.

it was a laugh you fell in love with many moons ago, the one that followed your silly jokes and the sight of his brother getting flattened by dwalin on the training grounds. it was the laugh of your beloved husband, barely being concealed by the box itself and the bickering erupting from the others.

you opened the lid with a knowing smile and as soon as it was removed, fíli popped up with his arms outstretched. “happy birthday, ghivashel!” he attempted to step out of the box to properly embrace you, but it seems his time in the box had put a damper on his ability to properly walk. instead, he tumbled out of it and nearly brought you to the ground as he tried to brace himself.

your laughter mingled with his, neither of you paying attention to the sniggers from the onlookers. “fíli! when did you get back?! please tell me you haven’t been in that box for the past three days!” it appeared in the common room a few days prior and the curiosity about what it could be plagued you for hours upon first glimpse. but no one else seemed to have any clue about it, so you let your curiosity rest.

he chuckled as he stretched his legs out, braving the tingling feeling you knew he was experiencing from being cooped up for durin knows how long. “i only arrived very early this morning. i barely had time to bathe before my fool of a brother was shoving me into this thing and sneaking me food.” he shook his head and laughed, pressing a solid kiss to your temple. “and thank you for the tea earlier, uncle bilbo!”

the hobbit waved him off with a smile, nudging thorin lovingly to get him to pay attention to the fact the contents of the box wouldn’t, in fact, result in him being short a nephew.

“i hate to say it fee, but i think your brother has gotten me the best gift so far.”

“you’ll just have to wait until tonight, kurdu.”

“i look forward to it.”

#year of themed creation 2023 #year of idiots #fili x female reader #fili x reader #the hobbit imagine #the hobbit reader insert #fíli imagine #fíli durin x reader #fíli durin #fíli and kíli #lotr imagine #the hobbit fanfiction #fili durin x reader #fili imagine

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positivelybeastly · 29 days

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X-Force #50

All right, well, we finally did it, gang. We hit the big 5-0, and it's all done. And guess what?

It's all up hill from here! Wednesday spoilers below the cut, and . . . quite a lot of rambling? If I'm honest?

So, we open up on X-Force trying to kill good Hank and Simon, because they are dumb, despite Kid Omega and Sage asserting their genius. They blow up their little gay boat of love, and our intrepid heroes get pitched into the drink.

So . . . this is . . .

Why is Simon wearing a rebreather/oxygen tank?

Dear reader, I implore you to open this link, and scroll down to Simon Williams' powers and abilities.

Immortality: Williams is functionally immortal. Because of the ionic energy that empowers him, he no longer ages and is immune to disease and infection. This same energy sustains Williams' physical vitality far more efficiently than the biochemical process that sustain ordinary human life.

Self-Sustenance As a result of his transformation he no longer requires food, sleep, water or oxygen to survive. Simon is now a fully energized entity who can sustain himself indefinitely without nourishment, easily able to live outside habitable planet orbit.

Benjamin Percy, writer; Drew Baumgartner, Assistant Editor; Mark Basso, Editor; Jordan D. White, Senior Editor.

All four of these men are incapable of Googling basic facts about a character that Marvel has owned and been using since the 1960s. Basic facts that are available if you do so much as a basic skim of the man's Wiki page.

So, why is Simon wearing a rebreather/oxygen tank? So that evil Beast can destroy it and send Simon up to the surface, and good Beast and evil Beast can talk uninterrupted. That's the only actual reason. This is laziness from both an editorial and a writing standpoint, since you could have easily just had evil Beast use some kind of gadget to achieve the same effect, but don't worry! This won't be the most egregious lack of attention to detail this issue!

Yaaaaaay . . .

"My Beast," huh, Simon?

Gay.

Also, this scene makes X-Force look fucking pathetic, because Simon could literally wipe the floor with every one of them and not break a sweat. Simon 'my fists are LITERALLY as strong as Thor's hammer' Williams has nothing to fear from fucking Omega Red. His pacifism is the only thing keeping you from looking even stupider than you already do.

Orchis attacks to give the rest of X-Force something to do. I don't care.

But we do get this funny fuckin' shit.

Tie him up?

Logan, did you forget the last time you fought Simon? Or the time before that?

Anyway, the Beasts talk. It's not a particularly interesting conversation, for the most part.

God, this plan is just so fucking stupid.

But.

There is one moment that actually kinda works.

It's really funny to me that two of the worst Beast writers of all time, Brian Michael Bendis and Benjamin Percy, both managed to grok this essential fact - Hank McCoy loved being this version of Hank McCoy.

He was happy.

He was comfortable.

He was loved.

Feline Hank, as much as I love him, as much as he's my favourite iteration of the character, was never happy in his skin. How could he be? It wasn't something he chose, it was forced upon him. To save his life.

Well, what if he didn't want to be saved? What if he felt his life was so miserable that he might've thought, perhaps I should just let it all end?

He had moments, sure. But he never really escaped this feeling. This fear, this anxiety, this trauma, this pain. He carried it with him for the rest of his life. Just constant trauma, death, misery, regret, mistakes, chances not taken, failures.

But he would never be the same again. It's funny. He's the version I love most, but he's the version of Hank who could never love himself.

Which . . . is partly why it bugs me when people say Hank has internalised mutantphobia. Like, he kinda does, but I honestly don't really feel like it's quite that simple. He's comfortable in his simian form, he loves it, he only very occasionally angsts about it, he is happy. It's when he turns feline that he hates his mutant 'gift,' because now he has to worry about what might come next.

This is not the same as, I hate my mutant powers because they make my life inconvenient, because it means people hate and fear me. He can deal with that. He's been dealing with that since he was seventeen and nearly beaten to death by an angry mob for saving a child.

This is, I hate my mutant powers because they are turning me into something less than human or mutant. Because I am a danger. Because I am in danger.

And his fears are validated. He nearly kills Blindfold and Armour. He eats Logan's leg, tastes human flesh. He spends the last seven issues of Whedon's Astonishing X-Men with the taste of human skin and meat on his lips. How the fuck is he meant to be happy like this?

Anyway, back to X-Force. The two Beasts fight. Orchis shit happens.

Fuck off, Logan. Stop acting like you're at all relevant to proceedings.

Gay.

"X-Force ain't the ones you root for. But we get the dirty jobs done."

You didn't fucking do anything.

Hank and Simon could have fixed this entire mess without you. The only reason you were fighting a Sentinel was because you drew it to your location with your jet, firing at a gay little blue man and his fruity ionic boyfriend! You didn't contribute anything!

And then, as if to cap it all off . . .

What a self-aggrandising load of wank.

Hey, what was Colossus' plot arc through this series?

He spent 5 years being mind controlled and killed his girlfriend.

What was Domino's plot arc through this series?

Well, she got hurt a lot. There was that one time she got skinned. That was fun.

What was Laura Kinney's plot arc through this series?

There were entire issues where she didn't speak a fucking word.

You had.

50.

ISSUES.

And this is the best you could come up with?

"The plan was always for the war without to lead to the war within these two characters."

Is that why Wonder Man was more important to the climax of your book than Logan?

Go step on a fucking Lego, Ben.

This was allegedly a run all about black ops wetwork, the sacrifice of your soul to the harsh work that protecting your country requires, the inexorable slide towards moral degradation that comes from compromise.

It ended with a blue man in a stupid plant suit sacrificing himself to save a D-list actor from a bomb that would have crushed Mars into a pocket dimension, all so that his clone can go and become roommates with said D-list actor.

Ben Percy, of all the writers the X-office has welcomed into its midst, you were certainly one of them.

I just . . . this was what was worth jettisoning 40 years of Hank McCoy's personal history for? This cockamamie bullshit? This excuse for you to whip your dick out and pretend you're Larry Hama, when you can barely measure up to Chuck Austen?

Also, Jonathan Hickman, you're kind of on my shitlist for this, too. You may write a halfway decent comic book every now and then - and make no mistake, they're mostly halfway decent, I think he scrapes greatness with his ideas, but his execution is. Dry.

But that's better than his eye for talent, clearly.

I hate being negative. I feel guilty every time. I don't enjoy it. I hate to dwell. I hate to spiral. I hate to obsess over things.

But X-Force is just . . .

X-Force was, just shit. I will go to my grave telling anyone who'll listen that it's not worth reading.

"It'll read better in trades!" No, it won't.

"It has such a good team!" If you burn a pie made of good ingredients, you still have a burnt pie to eat.

"The art is so good!" And if you put sprinkles in a toilet bowl, it's still a toilet. It just looks prettier now.

Oh, and just in case anyone from Marvel ever reads this - they won't, they only hang around on Twitter so people can jerk off about the panels they write explicitly to be shared by the X-stans - I've pirated every comic I've read in the last 10 years. Every issue of X-Force? Pirated. All these caps? Pirated. Every time someone asks me where to read comics, what to read? Pirate links.

I didn't pay a dime for this series. I still feel like I got ripped off.

I almost can't believe it's over . . . what am I going to do with my life now that I don't have X-Force to complain about?

Oh, yeah. I can just read good comics. Nearly forgot about that.

But hey. That leads me to . . . I don't know, I guess, the end of an era.

Because Hank didn't get his memories back. Maybe he will in the future, but I don't have faith that there's anyone at Marvel that feels this strongly about Beast, so I doubt it. I need to write this down, anyway, for the catharsis. It'll help me say goodbye.

Rest in peace, Hank McCoy, 1985-2018.

You were the Beast I fell in love with. You were the man who taught me to be gentle when the world was unkind. You were the man who taught me that sometimes you don't have to love the body you're in, you just have to want to keep on going, because it can get better. There's always that chance. You were the man who led me to my boyfriend of 12 years, who I love more dearly than anything else on the planet. You were my friend when I didn't have many, and you've helped me make a lot of friends I quite appreciate. People I'm proud to know.

You're gone now. A lot of people aren't going to mourn you. They don't appreciate what was lost. But that's okay. I'll tell anyone who'll listen how brilliant you were. I'll try not to hold it against the version of you I'm left with, that he isn't you. He was you once. He could be like you again. Maybe better. I'd like that. I hope that's the case.

I'll keep writing you. I honestly don't think I could ever stop.

I'll try my best not to be sad that you're gone.

I'll try my best to instead be simply glad that you happened.

I'll give the past its due.

Which is all you can do, in the end, for the dead and for the past.

Well.

That, and live.

#outofmuffins #hank mccoy #wednesday spoilers #blood tw

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kitthepurplepotato · 4 months

Text

Chapter 17 (The End) - Forever and after.

Summary: Aizawa sensei shares his thoughts with his old class. Y/N decides on her hero name. Steven the pigeon reveals their big secret.

This is the last official chapter of this series. (except the extra I’ll eventually post.) This potato is really emotional.

Warnings: There is one really small sex scene in there but there is a warning by the beginning and a note at the end! Otherwise, swear words.

First Chapter Master List

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

“Problem child.” The sensei, whose name is Aizawa by the way, Katsuki’s old homeroom teacher - sighs dramatically as he pinches his nose to calm himself. “I’m really sorry for my language, but what the actual fuck was that?!”

The whole gang gawks.

You heard it right; the whole gang is here to listen to the evaluation.

It’s actually quite cute; Midoriya, Todoroki and you are sitting in the middle of the battlefield while the others are scattered around the sides, basically having a picnic while they are listening to their old sensei’s wise words. They have brownies. Like fuck them, how dare they eat that shit in front of you?! It’s not like you can just go over and have a few in the middle of the sensei’s speech!

Katsuki somehow senses your inner turmoil; he’s also sitting on the side but he’s sitting quite close to you, close enough to cheekily hand you a beautiful piece, a chunky one full of chocolate bits. You look at him like he’s the fucking savior of the whole world and he can barely conceal his beautiful smile as he looks at you sneakily taking a bite of the desert while Aizawa speaks.

“Sensei, I…” Midoriya starts to mutter right away, completely ashamed of himself but Aizawa doesn’t let him finish his sentence.

“I know this wasn’t a serious fight. I know there was nothing at stake for you. But I also know that not being able to keep your feelings at bay was one of your biggest flaws when you were just a student and seeing you make such a mistake even if it’s just mock battle is really concerning.” He sighs and moves towards Todoroki. “On the other hand, I am absolutely impressed with you, Todoroki. If someone had all the right to loose their composure during this fight, it was you, yet you turned your trauma upside down and made it into a challenge, you broke out of your cage and finished the job. Not a lot of people can do that. Well done.”

“Sorry to interrupt and I know I have no right to ask this, but… what have I done exactly?” You ask Todoroki sheepishly. For your surprise, he answers you with a straight poker face.

“My older brother was born with a body that was sensitive to fire. He burned to death in a forest due to his own quirk when he was a kid then came back to life a few years after, killed several people out of spite, almost killed my whole family and now he’s rotting in Tartarus.”

“How did she not know that?” Present Mic chimes in from the side, still chewing on a piece of brownie.

“She’s a foreigner, why would she fucking know that?!” Katsuki comes to your rescue but gets shushed by Kirishima.

“Once the war was over no one even talked about that shit anymore. They had better things to do, like… rebuilding the whole fucking country. Staying alive without a roof above their heads. The Todoroki drama was the least of their concern.” Mina also chimes in.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to… make you go through that. And I would never do such a cruel thing to you on purpose, I hope you know that.”

Instead of answering, Todoroki gives you a small smile and as you said before, Pro Hero Shouto is a real treasure of a man underneath his resting bitch face.

“Now back to Y/N… I really don’t know what to say.” Aizawa ignores the emotional mood and goes back to the topic at hand. “You are a power to recon with anyway but you are also clever, quick and efficient. If that’s not enough you also have a kind heart; you stopped in the middle of the fight and changed your strategy to keep the battle less emotionally straining on the other person. That could have been a big disadvantage but you still came out victorious. If you can do at least 10% of what you just did today, you are more than capable to fight alongside our top heroes. Actually, they should be happy to have you because with you in your team, they’ll be indestructible. You can take any roles in a team, support, front, back, healing… you are a wild card, Y/N.”

“Now you just need to choose a new, cool hero name!” Mina looks at you with a proud smile. “Or you can keep your original one! That’s cool too!”

“Nah, fuck my old persona.” You smile, deep in thought. “I know what I want to be called.”

“You have a name already?” Katsuki scoots closer to you. “What is it?”

“Isn’t it obvious?” You look into your boyfriend’s eyes lovingly. “I’m The Menace.”

~•💥•~

Warning: cheeky sexy time (really short)

“The Menace?! Really?!” Katsuki thrusts into you relentlessly. “That’s my nickname for you. Mine.”

“If this is suppose to be a punishment, you are doing a really shitty job… oh my god, Katsuki!” You almost scream as he finds that perfect spot and pounds into it several more times. You see stars. Literally. Oh fuck, this is amazing.

“I’ll… uhm… ahh, fuck, just like that… tell everyone it’s your… katshmf… idea. Jesus, I love you.”

All it takes after this is one of Katsuki’s childish giggles right by your ear; you come with Katsuki’s name on your lips, for the third time today.

“Yeah, tell everyone you are mine. Let them all be jealous. Jesus I’ll never get bored of your stupid face when you look all blissed out like that. Fuck, I’m… ahhh…”

“Did you just come from my stupid blissed out face? Again?” You giggle as Katsuki falls on your chest like a sack of potatoes.

“It works every time.”

Cheekiness over!

~•💥•~

“Fucking hell, Steven!” Katsuki yells on a Sunday morning. It’s barely 6AM. “What is this mess?!”

Katsuki has been a bit aggravated by his “flatmate” for the last few days. He’s been bringing all kind of random shit to Katsuki’s balcony and spent a lot of time hiding inside his little house. He doesn’t look sick or anything, so there is nothing to worry about but somehow, Steven’s laziness really irks him.

“Katsuki, shut the fuck up, it’s too soon for your annoying whining!” You yell back, just as loud because… well… yelling at each other kinda became your love language in the past few weeks. Oh, also! You are officially living at Katsuki’s place now. You had a little bit of a fight about how much furniture you can bring over because Katsuki is an absolute maniac when it comes to cleanliness and minimalism but eventually you managed to compromise with him to be able to have enough space for your stuff without making the flat look too lived in.

“Come and take a fucking look and tell me I’m overreacting!” You can see Katsuki pointing at the bird house dramatically with both arms through the window and you can’t help but laugh at how adorable he is sometimes.

“Okay, okay, I’m coming!” You giggle to yourself as you begrudgingly leave the warm bed to investigate the situation.

Indeed, there are twigs poking out of the opening of the bird house. There are some leaves as well, all scattered without any kind of logic behind them, leaving the place look messy and untidy and we all know Katsuki hates both of these things with passion.

Okay, you can kinda understand that though; this mess makes no sense at all . It’s just a few sticks thrown into the hole. He certainly can do better.

“Get out, you lazy fuck, I’ll clean the shit out of this house. I can not, I repeat, I can NOT live in the same building as this mess. No.”

While you are certain Steven can not understand human language and he’s quite used to Katsuki’s yelling at this point, once Katsuki touches a single twig in the house Steven makes a terrified noise that makes Katsuki jump back a few steps. For your surprise, Steven doesn’t try to leave the house at all; he’s laying on the twigs, trying to cover as much of it as he can with his little body.

“The fuck?!”

“I’ll use x-ray vision.” You mumble with a serious face and the whole situation feels like a mission now. Katsuki is silent, nudging you to do your thing, concentrating on the house as though he could also see through it if he tries hard enough. And maybe… he can.

“Don’t freak out.” You mumble under your nose and concentrate on Katsuki; he jumps back another few steps as his vision changes into an X-ray one. “How…?!”

“Quirk sharing. I just came up with it.” You grin at him and the amount of adoration on the blond’s face says more than a thousand words.

“I’ll marry the shit out of you one day.” Is all Katsuki says as he comes closer to Steven’s home to investigate it in detail. “There is something roundish under him. Looks like…”

Haha, uhm, wait a fucking minute.

“Katsuki, that a fucking egg. And if you look through Steven’s body with my quirk… there is another one on the way out.”

This… is a groundbreaking revelation.

Why?

Because even though Steven was a part of this family for more than a year, none of you realized that Steven… is actually a girl.

“We are grandparents, Y/N. What the fuck. And Steven is a fucking girl.”

Katsuki looks broken. Genuinely fucking broken.

“Okay, honey, let’s go back to bed.” You tap the blond’s back a few times supportively as you usher him away from the poor pigeon. “Let him… I mean her… finish her thing.”

“I should have had a sex talk with her.” Katsuki mutters under his nose. “It’s my fault. I’m a terrible father.”

“She’s a fucking pigeon, Kats.”

“Should we call her Stephanie now?”

Oh boy.

“I genuinely don’t think she’ll mind being called Steven.” You sigh as you pull the covers over his shivering body.

“Calling her on her deadname is really fucking rude. Even I know that.”

You have no heart to tell him off again, so you just sigh and cuddle up next to him; Katsuki puts his arms around you and pulls you close right away, basking in the warmth your bodies generate together.

“Sure, honey. Let’s call her Stephanie.”

Katsuki called over all his friends over for a “baby shower” that day. The confusion on their faces when Katsuki led them to the bird house was worth every penny.

~•💥•~

“I’m so glad to finally have a chance to interview you, pro hero Menace!” The interviewer, Misaki, says with a smile. Katsuki’s office is set up with several lights and cameras now. There is also a microphone hanging in the air right above you. This is it. Your first ever interview in Japan. Damn. ”It has been a few weeks since you started working alongside our top heroes but this is the first time you actually agreed to do an interview. Was there a reason behind that?”

“Uhm… yeah.” You mumble with a shy smile. “I wanted people to respect me for my work and not for my personal traits as I do feel like there are a lot of heroes being over-idolized or misinterpreted and judged because of their character. We also live in a world where looks and certain family names mean more than the work behind the person and I did not want to be a hero like that.”

You can see Katsuki smiling proudly by the door as you continue your rambling. It has been ages since you did an interview and needless to say you are extremely scared to say something inappropriate but Katsuki made sure the place you say yes to is the most trustworthy one in the country.

“That’s… true.” She admits sheepishly. ”I know you can’t say too much about about your quirk for obvious reasons and I also got the memo that you would not like to talk about your past so I’m not going to lie, I had a hard time coming up with appropriate questions so I asked the public! The most asked question was about your hero name.”

“Oh, yes.” You giggle as you make an eye contact with your boyfriend. “The name itself isn’t too hero-like, I’m aware of it, and I would really like to say that there is a deep meaning behind it like being a nuisance to all the villains as they can’t escape from me yaadayaada but the truth is… The Menace is a nickname my partner used to call me before we got together. I wanted to use this name because I wouldn’t be a hero right now if it’s not for him. I wanted him to be a part of my brand in some way.”

You can see the utter surprise on the lady’s face and you can’t help the grin blooming on your face as she asks her next question.

“Uhm… wow. That’s really… cute? Is it okay if I ask what kind of person is he? Or she?”

“Hmm…” You give the lady another manic grin. You can’t wait to see her face when you drop a name. Oh my god, this will be hilarious. “He’s… really caring, super sweet, always by my side. He comes off as really abrasive at the first glance, but behind all the fake rudeness he’s just… the perfect, loving boyfriend kinda guy.” You are quite sure your whole face looks lovesick as fuck right now, but hell if you care. Katsuki’s face is so hot you could cook an egg on it. You are a little bit disappointed that you can’t try that out. “He makes me a caramel latte every morning even though he hates sweet stuff. He’s an amazing cook. He’s handsome. Good at everything. Kicks an ass with such confidence I want to kiss him after every mission and to be honest? I do kiss him after every mission.” You giggle with a red face. The lady is blushing vehemently but she can’t hide the little smile on her face.

“You are really lucky! I want to have that too!” She sighs. “The other frequent question was… you work really closely with Dynamight and Red Riot. How close are you to the two? I can see both of them lurking in the hallway, so I guess that’s an answer itself but…” Misaki mutters, scratching her head shyly.

“Red Riot is one of my best friends. He also helps me a lot with training and we have dinners together at my place. And that guy there…” You point at the blonde poking his head into the office - You don’t need to tell him to come in because he knows what you want anyway. He plops his little butt down next to you, arms stretching behind you on the sofa flirtatiously. The lady blushes right away.

“… is the guy who first called her a Menace.” Katsuki grins, his face right in your personal space.

“… is the love of my life. And an asshole. That’s what he is.” You leave a tiny peck on your boyfriend’s lips who can’t help but beam under your praise. The lady chokes on her saliva. You are quite sure this is the the first time anyone have ever seen Katsuki smiling and you are quite sure the internet will be full of screenshots by tomorrow because Katsuki is a handsome guy even when he’s grumpy but when he smiles… he looks downright sinful.

“So to everyone who’s watching this thinking about approaching her in any way… don’t. Unless you want to die.”

“Katsuki…” You giggle and suddenly, Misaki jumps off her chair and starts walking in circles.

“Oh my god, I’m totally gonna get promoted. Oh my god, this is happening. Oh my god, they are so fucking cute why can’t I have what they have, I’ll die alone with my five cats.”

“Would you like a tea, miss?” Eijirou comes in with a tray full of different tea types. “I know, it’s a lot to take in but… let’s finish this interview, yeah? We have a meeting in 15 minutes.” He smiles, barely concealing his shit eating grin as he stares at the dumbstruck, distressed lady.

“We also have a pet, you know. Her name is Stephanie. Her name was Steven before but then we realized he’s a she…”

“Yes.” Katsuki adds. “We also have two grandchildren from her. They are fucking ugly but we love them. I named them Deku and Shouto because they look the same.”

“No, their name is Deku and Kacchan because you were an ugly fucking baby like them.” You retort angrily. “We had a deal, Katsuki!”

“Fuck your deal! And I wasn’t ugly! I was just… done with life!”

“You were one day old!” You yell and needless to say the interview never gets properly finished.

The next day, the media is full of your banter and pictures of Katsuki smiling. There are memes and fan arts all over the internet and the world got a little bit more brighter as people had something to talk about, other than villain fights or evil deeds.

You were the topic of the month until Todoroki and Midoriya came out to the public. Katsuki will never forgive them for “shitting on his parade.”

You have no idea how you ended up here; if someone would have told you a year ago that you’ll be laying in Katsuki’s bed sharing a plate of fruits while you talk about your future after a successful mission, you would have laughed in their face.

You back in business?

You living with Katsuki, arguing over things only married people do?

Katsuki looking at you with nothing but love and fondness, walls down and vulnerable as he mumbles about his plans and secret dreams?

But somehow… Being here right now, basking in the after-glow of your cheeky deeds just a few minutes ago… it all makes sense now.

You ending up in Katsuki’s agency was the work of fate.

“Kats?” You mumble into your boyfriend’s chest as you nibble on a grape, half asleep in his arms.

“Hm?”

“I love you.”

Katsuki looks at you with those bright, happy eyes, a tiny smile decorating his handsome face as he pulls you even closer.

“No shit. Me too.”

The End.

Extra:

“Oi, Menace!” Katsuki randomly speaks up while changing into his hero suit.

Hmm… that peach is really juicy in that tight underwear. Damn.

“Oi, what.”

“You can literally do whatever you want, right…” Katsuki mumbles and you look at him questioningly - that’s really fucking random, but okay.

“Well… I can do almost everything, yes.” You answer.

“Uhum… so technically… can you go back to that other dimension you went into last year?”

Wow, you’ve never thought about that before.

“Technically… yes? I think?”

“Can you… bring people with you?”

You know where this is going and fuck if you are not excited.

“Wanna go on an adventure, baby?” You grin like a madman and you get the same grin back from him.

“With you? Always.”

-> Click here for the extra chapter!

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

Potato Ramble:

- Can we talk about the fact that somehow, in Katsuki’s head Steven is a trans pigeon? Because I found that really funny and sweet. Also, Katsuki is clearly a supporter and I love that for him.

- Oh my god, I want to cry. This story will forever be one of my favorites. I still remember the day I wrote the first chapter - I had no plans to finish it or to post it, I was just sitting on the train, on my way to London and I had this random idea so I wrote it down but I laughed so much after reading it through the day after that I decided to post it, hoping I’ll have enough ideas for it to make it into a series. Well, needless to say, I did have a shit load of ideas and honestly, half of them weren’t even used in this story. I’m not going to tell you what they were because eventually, I want to use them in my other series and I don’t wanna spoil the fun, but… yeah.

It was a few weeks ago that I started to feel like it’s time to say goodbye to this series; I had so many stories in my head and not being able to write them out because I had to post something else every week was making me really frustrated, plus this story had so many chapters already and I felt like you guys were also ready to move on from it. So yeah, it hurts like hell but I’m also really excited to have time to write something new!

- Speaking about new stuff; there is a new Katsuki x Reader on the way! It’s about to ex-lovers finding their way back to each other after being forced to worked together again. It’s a deeper story with less gag but please give it a try when the first chapter comes out! I want to make it half funny and half really serious so there is something for everyone. It will be a few weeks before I actually start posting that one but it’s on the way! I have five chapters written already!

- If you don’t wanna say goodbye to this story yet, there is an extra coming soon (1 or 2 chapters) + a Kirishima x Reader spin-off which will be between 5-10 chapters. If you want to be added to the taglist for the Kirishima one just send me a comment! I’ll probably start posting that after I’m done with the extra! Or before? Well, it depends on you guys, if you want to have the first chapter out as a teaser, just let me know and I’ll post that first (you’ll need to wait a whole month for the next chapter though), then the extra. It depends on you 💜

- Thank you for reading this story and commenting! I wouldn’t have finished this if it’s not for you, guys! I’m so thankful for all the support and I really hope I’ll see you soon! Love you 💜

- Also, thank you, Tag List Folks!!! Seeing the list grow overtime made me so happy and so motivated it’s downright ridiculous. 💥🥹

@sixxze @iwannahaveaprettyaesthetic @hanatsuki-hime @cloroxisadelectabletreat @cheesenmax @coffeent @smolsleepybat @therealpotatobish @qardasngan @canarystwin @unofficialmuilover @nanamomo1 @mikestuffffs @p4ndawrites @yao-ai @porusuniverse 💜💜💜💜

#bnha x reader #mha x reader #bakugou katsuki x reader #bakugou x reader #bakugo katsuki x reader #bakugou x self insert #bakugo x you #shenanigansbypurplepotato #bakugo x reader #bakugou katsuki

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reddbuster · 6 months

Text

I think one thing that Bridge to the Turnabout (and the rest of the trilogy building up to it) does extremely well is the way it structures it's antagonists. If you've done some reading on character writing and structuring of stories you might have heard of the concept of hero-mirror-other. It's basically this character structure where you have your hero/protagonist, one antagonist that's sort of a corrupted version/foil of said character, and another villain that's just the complete opposite of everything the hero stands for. For example, in aa1 this structure could apply to Phoenix, Edgeworth and Manfred Von Karma. Phoenix and Edgeworth both started off as idealistic believers in justice and then in Edgeworth those beliefs were twisted and used wrongly. When we're seeing them face off in aa1 the contrast between them highlights how much they've changed and how different they are at this point in the story. Then there's MVK, who isn't a perversion of justice so much as he's a guy who on the surface just doesn't give a shit about it. Hence why he's the "other". And I think AA3, whether intentional or not, uses this structure efficiently, because it does so multiple times in multiple ways with the same characters, and this overlapping conflict gives a more satisfying conclusion. Let me explain.

So, Phoenix, right? (pun not intended) He's obviously the main protagonist so there are a lot of characters that act as "foils" to him in some way or another. And I think one of these characters is Godot. I think the connection and the main difference between them (and what BTTT really focuses on) is Mia, esp the ways they each respond to her death. Phoenix responds with action. He doesn't have time to brood or stew in his grief like Diego does. He couldn't save Mia, so he saves Maya instead. And soon enough, Maya becomes more than just Mia's sister or a way to atone for her death. She becomes a genuine friend to him regardless of her family, and they're both better off for it. Diego, though, never gets that chance. He wakes up only to find that he has nothing left but the residual grief of the life he left behind. Diego is someone characterized by inaction, whose desperate need to imprint his will onto the world eventually leads to his downfall. The "other" imo applies to both Morgan and Dahlia. These are both characters that are also defined by their feeling of powerlessness or lack of agency, except unlike Godot, whose powerlessness was a consequence of outside influence (being in a coma), for Dahlia & Morgan a lot of it is self-imposed. They both give up on themselves way too early and dedicate themselves to revenge. Actually writing this is making me realize how similar Godot and Dahlia are but that's another post my point still stands that they serve different roles in the story in relation to Phoenix. Godot is there to make him reflect/to cause more internal conflict and Dahlia is an outside force causing external conflict.

Now Trials and Tribulations is special in that you ALSO get so play as Mia, in multiple cases spread out through the game. She's still not as central to the game as Phoenix, but you play as her enough to get personally invested in her arc and want a satisfying end to her story. The aforementioned structure can be applied to Mia's story as well. Except, in her case I would argue that it's swapped. I think that Mia and Dahlia are really interesting when viewed as narrative foils. They're both Fey girls that left their family after being left behind themselves and dedicated themselves to revenge, albeit in very different ways. For Mia, her pursuit of revenge was an almost excuse or sorts. It was a reason for her to leave home and pursue a career in law. Mia's revenge opened up new opportunities for her and allowed her to start a new life because she channeled (hah) that vengeance into her desire for justice. For Dahlia, this desire for revenge was self-destructive. She gave up on herself and put everything into getting back at the people who hurt her because she thought it was all she had left. It didn't matter if she took herself out in the process, as long as she left a mark on the ones who ruined her. As for Morgan, she represents everything that Mia feared becoming; the disgraced older sibling who took out her bitterness on her younger sister. Diego, on the other hand, has just become... completely separate from everything Mia stands for. He’s stopped caring about justice, or the truth. He doesn’t even really care about revenge. He’s just a sad, empty, bitter man desperate for anyone and anything at which to direct that bitterness.

anyway I may have gotten a bit off track here I just have. Many thoughts.

#fey girls tag #ace attorney #aa3 #dahlia hawthorne #mia fey #diego armando #prosecutor godot #morgan fey #phoenix wright

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delucadarling · 1 month

Note

Hi! From the prompts, 'reaching out with their hand without saying anything, wanting the other one to grab it' for Barbie and Ava? If it works better for a different pairing, that's fine too, of course. I hope you'll have fun writing

(also, I am *thinking* about the ask you sent! It's such a good one)

Oho okay this is actually very very fun for me, because I love playing Barbie as having no goddamn clue she's attracted to women AND men. She doesn't recognize her attraction to women as attraction, she just assumes she wants to be Very Good Friends with women she's interested in.

Meanwhile, Ava gets hit by that love at first sight shit and doesn't know how to deal with the woman she's in love with...being entirely fucking oblivious. It should make things easier. Should :3b

(book 3 spoilers ahoy)

***

The sun is barely peering through the trees as the SUV pulls back in front of the warehouse. Everyone is dead silent, whether lost in thought or just tired from a night of hard work, Barbie can't be sure. She's not sure where she falls on that spectrum either. Morgan's out the door first, dragging Kira along after her.

"Wait!" Kira laughs. Morgan does not, so Kira turns back and says, "Good night, Babs!"

"I think we know who's going to have the best night out of all of us," Farah says wryly. The burst of levity brings a smile to Barbie's face, despite her fatigue.

"I'm just grateful my room is on the opposite end of the hallway to Kira's," Barbie says with a shake of her head. Nate groans, sinking into the passenger seat.

"I share a wall," he says, already defeated. With the sigh of a man facing a firing squad, he unfolds himself from the vehicle to head inside, Farah rabbiting off after him.

Ava has still yet to say a word or so much as move her hands off the steering wheel. For a long moment the only sound is the tick tick tick of the engine cooling down. Her broad shoulders are rigid, tight. Worse than they were during the odd conversation they had before the auction.

"Ava?" Barbie asks. Ava's shoulders inch up. "Are you-"

"I'm fine," Ava interrupts with a bark. She inhales, chest expanding, then lets out a slow breath. "You should get some rest. It has been a very long night."

"Yes," Barbie agrees, sliding across the seat to step out of the SUV. Ava follows suit, falling into step as Barbie picks her way across the path. Kicking off her broken heels had seemed prudent during the auction, but her tender feet are telling her she should have, perhaps, found replacement shoes. Her dress is barely holding together either. Oh well, it's not like Unit Bravo will mind her ragged appearance.

Though, now that she's thinking about that, Ava won't look at her. Barbie doesn't mind a lack of eye contact, but it's very unlike Ava, who seems to find reasons to stare at Barbie every time they're in a room together. She's not being ignored though, that much is clear as Ava stays at Barbie's side when they enter the inviting arms of the warehouse.

Her silent escort doesn't pause when they reach Barbie's room, catching the door and following her in. Barbie can't help a laugh.

"I'm going to take a shower now," Barbie says. Ava blanches. For all her bluster and stoicism, Ava has proven remarkably prudish. It's cute, and Barbie can't help poking at her for it. "You're welcome to join me."

"Excuse me?" Ava sputters. Barbie laughs again.

"No, no, I'm sorry. I meant you could wait in the bathroom while I shower, if you'd like." When Ava doesn't manage another word, Barbie tilts her head. "I assume you wanted to talk? Or chastise me. Either can be done just as well while I clean myself up."

"I suppose that would be the efficient thing," Ava says, sounding impatient. "But no, I would rather...No."

"Alright, then whatever you have to say will have to wait," Barbie says, turning away on the spot, a pang of disappointment hitting her behind the ribs for some reason.

"Wait!" Ava calls. When she turns back, Ava's hand is hovering in midair, half limp, uncertain. Barbie doesn't know why, but she reaches out and takes it, swallowing hard. Ava's hands are wide and strong, but remarkably soft. Almost as much as Barbie's.

For a moment Ava sways on the spot, her piercing green eyes shining with something like agony as she looks at Barbie. It's the same look she'd given her when she begged Barbie not to go to the auction.

"Are you...are you alright?" Barbie asks, barely managing a hoarse whisper as her pulse rushes in her ears. She doesn't love to be touched, with few exceptions, but this isn't disgust or discomfort, no matter how tight the vice around her heart is.

Taking a ragged breath, Ava nods. Then, she does the oddest thing. She lifts Barbie's hand and brushes her lips over the knuckles, split from her adventure in the auctioneer's dungeon.

"Forgive me," Ava says, a bare whisper blowing over her lightly moistened skin. She drops Barbie's hand with care and backs away. "I should go."

"You could stay," Barbie offers, aching for Ava to accept. Ava's jaw, strong and defined, works hard.

Then she leaves, closing the door behind her.

Confusion knits itself with Barbie's brows, her mouth twisting as she tries to figure out what just happened. What's wrong with Ava?

What's wrong with her chest?

A long hot shower soothes the odd palpitations, even if Barbie's mind remains in a whirl.

#darling writing #twc #ask meme #I don't even know if this fulfills the prompt #but I did blackout and this appeared so here ya go!#thanks for the ask!!!!!!!#also sorry not sorry I love Kira so she will be involved with everything always #wayhaven #the wayhaven chronicles #ava du mortain #barbara 'barbie' robertson

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shinagawa-division · 2 months

Text

The Spider and The Butterfly Wedding (Shinomiya Voicelines Ver.)

— Malphas

“Today’s finally the day, huh?…I still can’t believe it, never in my life did I think I would find myself here, actually settling down and with A.D.A. no less, ha, I bet if my past self saw me now he’d short-circuit to the point of rebooting. But I wouldn’t change a single thing, I’ve got no regrets.”

(To Aiko) “Happy Birthday, lil sis. I still feel a little bad that we’re missing out on your birthday but seeing all excited, I guess it’s worth it, thanks for helping us plan the whole thing, you were a huge help. Just try not to crash, okay? A.D.A.’s still gonna need her maid of honor at her side.”

(To Seizou) “You look adorable, Sei, Aiko’s done a good job dressing you up, so, are you excited?…I’ll take that as a yes. I really appreciate you doing this for me, little brother, I know you’ll do a good job out there.”

(To A.R.K.) “Never thought I’d live to see you in a suit, A.R.K. I gotta admit, you clean up nicely. It’s weird to think that we’re going to be brothers in a few hours but hey, weirder shit has happened with us before.”

(To A.M.U.) “Aw, well don’t you look pretty, A.M.U. Your flower basket matching with Seizou’s ring pillow is a nice touch, you don’t have to convince me you’re excited, don’t worry, I can already tell.”

(To A.D.A.) “To be honest, I never gave much thought about love and romance, I was and still am a weapon, and weapons don’t love. I was fine with that, more than fine with that…until a pretty little butterfly flew my way and suddenly everything got…brighter and now it seems I can’t do anything but to love you. It still doesn’t feel real but looking at you now…I’ve never seen a sight more beautiful, A.D.A., my precious butterfly, my beautiful wife, I still can’t believe you actually want to be with me but I promise I’ll spend the rest of eternity loving you with everything in my programming.”

— Aiko

“Alright, this is it! Everything we’ve been working on has lead up to this moment, everyone! Let’s make this wedding go off without a hitch, for big brother and big sis!”

(To Malphas) “BIG BROTHER!! You look so handsome! Also today’s finally the day!! You’re getting married to Big Sis A.D.A!! This is the best birthday ever! I’m really happy for you, big bro! You and big sis A.D.A. make a really cute couple and I know how happy she makes you, I wish you both all the happiness in the world!”

(To Seizou) “Sei-chaaaaaaan! You look so adorable! C’mon, give me a biiiiiig smile!…Oh well, don’t worry, you’ll get there! Just a little more practice! Now, hold the pillow firmly but gently, you don’t wanna squish it but we also can’t let the rings go falling out, you’re gonna do just fine! I believe in you!”

(To A.D.A.) *gasps and squeals* “Big Sis! You look so pretty!! Soooo, are you excited? Are you? Are you?! You get to marry my big brother and we can become sisters for real!! But also…thank you, for making my big brother happy, he doesn’t think so but I believe he’s deserving of love and you’re the perfect person to give it to him.”

(To A.R.K.) “Hehehe, you look really good A.R.K.! Or should I call you, big brother A.R.K. now? After all, we’re all gonna be one big family now! It’s so exciting so have so many siblings!”

(To A.M.U.) “A.M.U.-chan, you look sooo pretty!! You and Sei-chan are gonna look so cute walking down the aisle! Now if only we can you both to smile without it looking unnatural, oh well, it’s fine, that’s what we love about you two.”

— Seizou

“Ah…Nii-sama is getting married today, Seizou does not fully understand the concept of marriage but Seizou will make sure be on his best behavior and do his tasks efficiently.”

(To Malphas) “Nii-sama…the most proper response is to tell you for such occasions like these is “Congratulations” so congratulations, Seizou will make sure to perform his duties with the upmost diligence.”

(To Aiko) “Nee-sama, thank you for the compliments, Seizou is glad he is able to please you. However, please refrain from constricting Seizou so tightly, it would be inappropriate for Seizou to show up disheveled.”

(To A.M.U.) “A.M.U.-chan, everyone appears to be in high levels of excitement, it…looks nice, Sei-…I want to reach that level of excitement one day, let’s do our best together, for both Nii-sama and A.D.A.-neesama.”

(To A.D.A.) “A.D.A.-neesama, Seizou thinks you look very pretty, Seizou believes that the chance of this event being a success is at a 100%, Seizou also believes that the chance of Nii-sama being attracted to you should he see you will increase by tenfold.”

(To A.R.K.) “A.R.K.-sama, Seizou wants to express gratitude for the combat lessons, now should anyone attempt to disrupt the event, Seizou will be equipped to efficiently neutralize the threat.”

#hypmic oc #hypnosis mic oc #hypnosis mic #hypmic #hypnosis microphone #malphas #masuzo shinomiya #aiko shinomiya #seizou shinomiya #malada wedding #wedding event #the spider and the butterfly #voicelines

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nitewrighter · 11 months

Note

can we get some symmarah to celebrate?

Ooh! Good idea!

Now the question is, is this me filling in a vital point in their relationship as part of my fic continuity timeline (because god they're basically moved in together by the time Hanzo comes on the watchpoint)? Or just a U-Haul Lesbian joke? You decide!!!

---

"It's efficient," Pharah was sitting across from Cassidy in the Watchpoint mess hall, "It would free up the dormitories more for agents who don't permanently live on the watchpoint, and it would be a lot more comfortable for her, and I feel like it would be a better use of my apartment space."

"Right, because this is about efficiency," Cassidy sipped his coffee.

Pharah gave him a flat, furrowed brow look. "Satya's done a lot to patch the whole watchpoint up. I mean it's honestly crazy how much more livable it is--on a scale level. And that frees up the other admin apartment for you."

"Eh, I'd just trash the place, and you know I ain't got enough shit to fill it."

"Cole, that answer is way more depressing than you think it is."

Cassidy just shrugged. "You know this is weird, right? He thumbed the brim of his hat up slightly.

"What's weird?"

"You two have been bunking up for a good while now, and now you feel like you need to make some kind of... strategic, legal case for asking her to move in with ya. I'm pretty sure she has her own toothbrush at your place already."

"It's a big deal," said Pharah, firmly.

"We're squatters. Vigilantes on a big crazy rocket launch site or not, it's not like you're pulling her into a lease agreement. Plus, between all the missions and the personal shit people got going on, there's a reason why only a few of us have really permanently shacked up here."

"It's a big deal on a personal level. I don't want to freak her out."

"Oh, and nearly dying on missions all the time isn't freaky."

"Cole--" Pharah huffed and pressed her fingers to her forehead, "You don't get it. My mother... like, you know she was never good at the work-life balance."

"...pretty sure that last sentence you just said sums up about 86% of our conversations we had when you were a kid."

"So sue me for not wanting to make the same mistakes!" she huffed and took a gulp of her water, "I like her, Cole."

"You love her."

Pharah leveled her eyes at him.

"I was there on that drone-rodeo mission, 'Reeha. I heard you. I know you're trying to hedge your bets, trying not to get hurt like you've seen your mom get hurt, trying not to hurt like your mom has hurt others, but you're also trying to walk that shit back to 'like' when you're talking about asking Satya to move in with you after you've had your big damn love confession and at this pretty much half the watchpoint has caught her on her 'morning walks' suspiciously near your apartment."

Pharah's ears were burning on Satya's behalf, but she was quiet at this, sullenly taking a few more bites of her food.

"You're the Canadian, ain't you?" said Cassidy, "'Miss 100% of the shots you don't take' and all that?"

"Don't quote Gretzky at me," Pharah muttered. She glanced off out the window, "It's easy to say 'I love you' when you think you're going to die, it's another thing to live together."

"Hey, speaking from experience, you don't need to worry about her getting pissed about you leaving your socks on the floor. She'll just vaporize them."

"...sounds like that's on you for leaving dirty socks around the dormitory."

"See? You're perfect for each other."

"Cole, be serious."

"You want me to be serious? Fine. I think the fact that you're worrying about this is already a good sign," said Cole, resting his elbows on the table and interlacing his fingers in front of himself, "But... you gotta be willing to put yourself out there. Maybe you do get hurt. But hell, I'd rather you love someone as much as you can love someone and get hurt, than lose what you have because you're scared of gettin' hurt."

She saw there was a particular crinkle in his brow that he tended to only get when they were both talking about Ana. Even when she was a teenager railing against Ana she knew how much Cole respected her mother, constantly referring back to her as 'The Captain.' With things slowly and clumsily being patched up with her mother, a part of Pharah felt a little guilty about basically demanding he put himself in opposition to someone he respected so much to maintain their friendship, but that was a different conversation. But that crinkle was directed at her now, and it gave her a sore twist of stress in her stomach.

You're already making your mother's mistakes by letting this paralyze you.

Pharah furrowed her brow at him for a few seconds, still sitting with that sore twinge, then thought of Satya and felt the back of her neck burning. She pursed her lips and drew a long breath in and out. "Fine--" she said, and then, "Fine," again, and then "Whatever," and then "Fine," once more, pushing herself up from her seat, picking up her lunch tray.

"You've got this, Amari."

"Fine," she said, walking away.

"Say 'fine' again," Cole called after her.

"Shut up, Cole."

----

The initial plan was to ask Satya after a romantic (spontaneous!) date. The date would proceed as such: casual shopping trip for odd necessities on Gibraltar that would end (spontaneously!) at a reasonably priced but well-liked restaurant with good vegetarian options (Pharah had staked out 3 in her research depending on where the shopping trip would take them) and then, on the drive home she would (casually!) ask the question and the conversation only had to last the duration of the (not too long, not too short) car ride, giving them both an easy out to immediately part once they got back to the Watchpoint if everything ended up going down in flames. It was foolproof. And... also not viable as she and Symmetra were called off on a mission.

I can do it when we get back, Pharah thought, Not a big deal.

It was Cairo, nothing high combat, more of a combination of security and humanitarian efforts, both their wheelhouses. Satya would be helping to expand and improve living conditions in the refugee camp, and Pharah would be conferring with her former Helix agents to discuss illegal weapons trafficking that had been occurring within the camp--really mostly an exchange of intel. No doubt Talon supplying local gangs to sow more fear and concordantly more chaos among already displaced people and the locals who resented their presence. Brigitte was there both as a medic and to assist with other utility repairs around the camp, and, Pharah guessed, to have eyes on the situation that weren't biased in favor of Helix. The murmurings about possible Talon moles had been there since Doomfist broke out of prison, Pharah tried not to take it personally. It was strange still identifying with Helix even though she had somewhat always mentally acknowledged it was the organization she chose because Overwatch wasn't an option to her. They had still been her team, she had still seen them fight and lose their lives alongside her against Anubis.

Helix had set up four cramped portable buildings at the center of the camp. Pharah remembered butting heads with Mercy over their placement back before they had answered the Recall. She couldn't exactly blame Mercy for being resentful of a well-armed security force after all her time in Overwatch and after everything had gone as wrong as it had, but on a logistics level given the circumstances, these plain, beige portables were a symbol of law, order, and safety for the camp. Or maybe she just always told herself that because Helix was the next best thing when Overwatch went down in flames. To be honest, with the work Satya was putting in, the portables were looking increasingly shabby.

She didn't recognize half of the Helix officers she was meeting with. They had heard of her, though. They always had, even since she had joined Helix. She was the daughter of the legendary Ana Amari, after all. But now she wasn't sure whether Cairo was becoming an increasingly undesirable site of assignment for Helix, or whether Helix was just starting to recognize that this was a problem you couldn't solve with guns and Raptora suits. Her replacement, Security Chief Kamran Zakaria, looked annoyingly young--she had been young, too, but she had worked her ass off to get where she had been, and watched her superior die. And his haircut was not regulation. How lax had Helix gotten without her?

"Hakim being out of the way has made a big difference. People are still muttering about that damn cat vigilante. Makes us look bad. Not a friend of yours, I hope?" Kamran was only wearing the leg armor of the Raptora suit, leaning against the accessibility rail that bordered one of the portable buildings. There was a permanent grimace on his face from the stench of the camp.

"Not that I know of," said Pharah. She had seen a few blurry photos of the 'Bastet' vigilante, knew the hood and the particular way she moved with her rifle well, but hadn't pushed Ana on the subject.

"Well, whoever dismantled his operation, we can already see the effects, and we've been acting on it. There was a power vacuum for a bit, loud, sloppy, easy to trace and deal with."

"And Talon?" said Pharah.

"The usual trickle of weapons I showed you, but the serial numbers and shipping containers we've found them with suggest they're bouncing through Algeria, the United States, definitely, and Germany. Doesn't seem to be the same concerted effort as previously, so I guess you guys must be doing something right."

Or it's no longer strategic, Pharah mused internally, but she just rolled her grip on the railing, No, take the wins where you can.

"So, what are Overwatch's plans for this?" Kamran gestured out at the refugee camp.

"We have contacts in the Adawe Foundation. We can get about 15 to 20 visas a month to for refugees here live and work in Numbani, depending on their skills and family. Teachers, doctors, and engineers are in high demand, especially."

"That's it?" said Kamran, "You know we've got people still coming in, right? And if there's another major Null Sector attack, this whole camp might just boil over."

Pharah crinkled her brow at Kamran. "You know we're operating without the jurisdiction or the resources of the UN. And we're trying to respect the operations of local governments as much as we can."

"Well yeah, but one more group with just guns running around is... one more group with guns running around. Thought you guys took up that old name for a reason."

Pharah furrowed her brow at him, ready to hit him with 'I'm sorry, how long have you had this position?' or 'I'm not the one having a cat vigilante do my job for me' but before she could speak there was an audible cheer rising from the camp.

"The hell is it now?" Kamran vaulted over the railing and Pharah hustled after him.

They hurried through the winding corridors of the camp towards the source of the noise, at one point, Pharah could see Brigitte repairing an old woman's walker, with a line of several people with cybernetics or mobility aids lining up behind her. Brigitte caught Kamran's eye, too, but he hurried on, towards the source of the noise. Pharah saw more and more bits of Satya's handiwork throughout the camp--Hard-light trashcans with solid lids to keep refuse from blowing around and reduce smells, and a large patch of dirt where children had previously been playing now flattened with a more shock-absorbent layer of hard-light tinted dark green and marked out with lines for four-square, hopscotch, and even two hard-light goals at the furthermost ends for football.

Both Pharah and Kamran came to a halt at the sight of a crowd gathered round a blue-clothed figure. Pharah glanced around to see that many of the more dangerous or ineffective-looking tents had been carefully replaced by hard-light geodesic domes, clearer walking paths between tents had been marked out to keep debris out of the way. She had even put up signs pointing to the toilets and bathing stations that other humanitarian organizations had set up. But clearly from the excitement from the crowd, this was the big factor.

Pharah watched as Satya constructed several hard-light beams to support a massive solar panel shade structure being hauled into position by several camp workers. Satya's arms were spread, her shoulders flexed and legs lunging in an almost martial arts stance. Usually her movements seemed so effortless and dancer-like, but this was something else. There was intention behind her movements, and a more severe focus than Pharah had seen even in some of their combat missions. Those golden eyes fixed on her goal, that imperious mouth tensed with that expression of 'Just so' as the glittering support beams adjusted their height against the ground as the other camp workers moved the solar panel structure into place. There was the groan of metal and everyone squinted as wind kicked the Cairo dust up, when someone shouted something affirmative and a few other workers moved in and riveted the solar panel in place. Satya resumed her perfect posture and with a sweep of her arm, dissolved her hard-light support pillars. With a slight creak and a low puff of dust at everyone's heels, the solar shade structure settled, solid and strong. The cheer bubbled up from the crowded camp once more, and Pharah stared up at the shade structure in wonder. A combination of shade and power--something like this would mean less smoke from diesel generators, more lighting around the camp, meaning less thievery at night, a place for newer refugees to charge their phones and get in contact with friends or family abroad who might help them move out sooner, power for mini-fridges, meaning more stability for perishable food, and on top of all that, a precious source of shade and windbreak in the harsh dust of Cairo.

"Woah," Kamran said quietly. He looked over at Pharah, "It was going to be weeks until we had the manpower and equipment to see that thing installed."

"Well, we did say we came here to help," said Pharah.

"I thought Overwatch wasn't too fond of Vishkar?" he glanced over at her.

"She's not with Vishkar, she's with us," said Pharah with no lack of smugness, "We're not just one more group with guns running around, you know."

----

The ride home in the dropship was quiet. Some missions prompted that silence more than others. Pharah loved Cairo, but the fact that it had become a major hub for refugees, the fact that there were so many desperate people and that they could only help so many at a time, that they only that they only had so much power, made her heart sore. Brigitte was sitting behind her, busying herself by writing up a mission report on her tablet. Satya had her own tablet in the copilot's seat, apparently listing possible resources Overwatch could organize to be sent to the camp, and making further notes on living conditions. For this camp? For others?

Pharah's mind trailed back to the apartment question. 'Hey speaking of living situations, what are your thoughts on moving in?' No. Too flippant. No respect for all the people they had just worked with. Maybe ask her out for that deferred shopping trip she had initially planned on? No, they were all too tired to think about that now... She focused on steering for a while, but her gaze trailed back to Satya, noting the furrow in her brow as she tapped in notes on her tablet.

"How are you doing?" asked Pharah, rolling her grip on the controls as they sat next to each other.

"I'm... fine," Satya said after a few moments.

"Just fine?" Pharah tilted her head.

Satya lowered her tablet slightly. "It's just... familiar. I like building. I like giving people a clean and beautiful place to live, but this..." She looked out the window at the refugee camp shrinking in the distance behind them, "None of these people are here by choice." She paused, "I used to do this often with Vishkar."

"What do you mean?"

"I didn't see it until later but... when people would refuse to let Vishkar build a development... then... Talon would coincidentally strike, and all of a sudden Vishkar would seem so much safer. It would seem like the only option. So they would take up Vishkar's offer, usually now a lot more expensive, and giving Vishkar a lot more access to their resources and labor... and that's when the architechs would come in. That's where I would come in. I thought I was saving the world from Talon's chaos... but I was just helping all of them line their pockets and control more people's lives. When I'm doing it on my own it-- it doesn't feel like enough. It's not enough to make up for what I did with Vishkar."

Pharah wanted to hug her, but she was driving the dropship. She raised a hand toward her, hesitated, resumed her grip on the steering wheel, trying to assume that solid, clear voice of a leader.

"Satya, you made so many people's lives better today. I know they don't have a lot right now, but thanks to you they have electricity, cleaner water, safer ways to move around the camp, more protection for themselves and their belongings. No, their living situation isn't permanent but... you gave them dignity. Which means a lot." She paused and felt her own voice soften, "You know, you've done the same for the Watchpoint, too. People get so caught up in all the missions, they forget that the Watchpoint needs to be this central hub, that it needs to be somewhere safe, that we can rest and recover at. I know it's not supposed to be permanent either, but you still--"

"I want to move in with you," Satya said suddenly, setting her tablet down in her lap. Pharah froze in her seat.

This prompted Brigitte to glance up from her tablet, unbuckle her seatbelt, and clear her throat, muttering, "I'm just going to... check the inventory in back..." She moved about as quickly as one could in full armor on a moving aircraft.

"C-come again?" said Pharah.

"I want to move in with you," Satya said more firmly.

Pharah's own head was a log jam of 'Oh thank god I wasn't sure how to bring it up' and 'Yes, yes, I love you of course, do you think we should get new furniture?' and 'Oh god I'm so sorry I let you stay in that dormitory for so long.' But all that stammered out of her was, "Oh-Okay."

Satya seemed to take this as continued bewilderment rather than acceptance and went on. "I was going to ask when we got back but..." She fidgeted with her fingers slightly, "I--I didn't want you to think I-- I'm getting with you just for your apartment!"

Pharah blinked. "Satya, I don't think that at all. I would never think that."

"It's just more efficient!" Pharah could practically feel the heat blazing off of Satya's face as she said that, but the word 'Efficient,' made a sputter of giggles burgeon up from Pharah's chest. But then Satya suddenly splayed her fingers and a blue screen sparkled into existence next to her head, "There's multiple benefits, both mutually and to the watchpoint as a whole! I made a slideshow!"

"You made a slideshow on why you should move in?!" Pharah was cracking up now.

"I wasn't sure of the protocol for this," Satya's voice was taut and those golden eyes were deadly serious.

It took Pharah a few seconds to get over her own laughter before clearing her throat. "Satya, I would love if you moved in. You don't.. need to justify yourself all over the place. I would love to have more time to spend with you. Even if it's just... doing dishes, or dumping myself into bed next to you late at night because we've both been busy all day," she paused, "Especially if it's waking up next to you." The words seemed to come out of her so much more easily than 'This would free up more space in the dormitory' or 'This way you're not always walking or teleporting across the watchpoint to get your stuff.'

Satya was staring at her. "Truly?" she said.

"Well--Yeah! I love you, Satya," Pharah smiled, the low orange sunlight through the dropship's windshield catching in her gold hair beads, "I should have asked you... while ago, really. But... I was scared. I knew things were already such a big change from Vishkar and I didn't want to... scare you away or anything."

"Fareeha," Satya reached over and touched Pharah's arm, "You are the best thing that's happened to me since leaving Vishkar."

She leaned over in her seat and Pharah craned over as much as her seatbelt would allow. Satya was likely just going for a cheek kiss seeing as Pharah was driving, but Pharah wasn't going to end a 'We're moving in together' conversation with a cheek kiss. She met Satya's mouth with a bit of effort and felt Satya start slightly at the contact, then lean into it, cupping her hand at Pharah's jaw and playing with her hair beads slightly. They weren't sure how long they were kissing until a rattle of turbulence forced Pharah's attention back to the controls with a nervous giggle. "Eh--sorry--" she said, giving a shrug with both hands on the controls.

Satya just smiled and faced the same direction, tucking a lock of dark hair behind her ear.

"...You know, I'd still like to see the slideshow, later," said Pharah.

"Good. I worked very hard on it," said Satya, sitting up in her seat with a smug smile on her face.

#Symmarah #me making cassidy supportive in the most obnoxious way possible: it's bi-coding #cole cassidy #Symmpharah #Pharmetra #I feel like I'm the only one posting to this ship tag these days #but then if Symmarah has only one fan... I am that fan #overwatch #satya vaswani #fareeha amari

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hxneyhxrts · 2 years

Text

Rain Soaked || Jake “Hangman” Seresin (part 5)

Part 4

note: ahhhh you guys are so fucking funny, have me giggling and shit. love you lots and this will hopefully be wrapping up soon guys xx

warnings: explicit language

Sick of Losing Soulmates

“Sir, I promise you-”

“Seresin,” Admiral Holt interrupted, a stern note that he rarely used with Jake anymore lingering in the word. “I respect you and I respect your opinion, but I don’t think she’s right for this particular detachment.”

Jake swallowed. Holt didn’t know her like he did. He didn’t know how she handled herself. Jake knew better than anyone how capable she was.

“She’s just too young, Hang,” Holt continued. “Not enough experience.”

But Jake wasn’t hearing it. “She’s consistently one of the last planes left at the end of drills. She’s out-performing almost every single pilot here.” Holt opened his mouth to speak, but the blonde pushed on. “I know she can do it, just give her a chance. She can fly circles around anyone you put her against.”

“That’s what you said when you had me call her up for this job, but I’m not seeing it.” Holt’s fingers dug into his eyes, stress lining the gesture. “You promised me a hell of a pilot, and I’m not seeing that. I don’t think she’s giving us her best effort. And if she can’t do that here, she can’t do it when it counts.”

“Sir-”

But Holt held up a hand to silence him. Jake’s mouth shut hard enough for his teeth to collide. He knew the older man had a point. Even he had noticed a severe lack of charisma from his former girlfriend, a fire snuffed out that left her running on embers. He could argue facts and stats all day, but if she didn’t have that drive that Holt was hellbent on seeing from her, she wouldn’t stack up against the seasoned professionals that had been called in.

“It’s nothing against you. I almost admire you for putting your neck on the line for her, but she’s not showing me anything that makes me think she could handle herself out here if it came down to it. I’m sorry.”

Jake should shut up. Just nod and leave. Avoid Gwyn while she packed and be content to not see her again until he found another excuse to call her in. He had been the one to suggest her for this detachment, a fact he still had yet to tell her, and he would do it again and again and again if he had to. There would be more opportunities. There would be more time.

But he couldn’t wait that long.

Didn’t want to.

“Give her another chance.”

Holt’s exasperated sigh cut through the air, but Jake pushed on, not letting him get another word in. “Sir, I’m telling you, she’s exactly the person you want on the team. Who I want on the team.” Jake’s hands were clenched hard enough to drive his nails into his palms. He let loose a breath. “Please, just let her show you what she can do, and if she still isn’t up to your standards, I’ll send her home myself.”

He wouldn’t have to. He knew that. It wouldn’t come to that.

The admiral was shaking his head, but Jake could see the defeat in his posture.

“Fine.”

Jake didn’t give him any time to question his decision, choosing to finally leave it at that with a triumphant smile. Now all he had to do was light a fire under a certain female pilot’s ass.

He just prayed Gwyn wouldn’t be too pissed at him when he was done.

—------------

“Would you get off my ass? God,” Gwyn snapped, struggling with the zipper on her flight suit.

Alec had been up her ass all morning. Suddenly, he was the all-knowing expert about aviation who had deemed her in need of a lesson. Between his miniature lectures about aerodynamics and dogfighting maneuvers and their efficiency, she had been nursing a small migraine for the better part of an hour. He had made it through a rant about how she needed to be more aggressive in the air when she had finally lost it.

“I’m just trying to give you some pointers!” Alec defended, pushing her clumsy fingers out of the way to zip her up the rest of the way. “I think you should be-”

“Since when are you my coach?”

Alec’s cheeks turned crimson, and Gwyn’s hackles raised.

He was hiding something.

A big something from the look of it.

They had been friends long enough for her to know when he was omitting some truth or just flat-out lying. He had never been able to keep much from her, whether it be the crush he had harbored on their math teacher or when he had left a dent in her first car.

She knew him.

And she knew there was something he wasn’t telling her.

“What is it?” she asked, accusation heavy in the words.

Alec swallowed, casting a nervous glance around them, and suddenly very interested in the lockers lining the space. “I don’t know what-”

“Alec.”

She had only used that tone with him a handful of times. Stern and commanding, and one that he once admitted to her made him “nearly shit himself”.

She only saved it for when she really needed it, out of respect for him.

But she wouldn’t accept him lying to her. There were plenty of things she was willing to look beyond for the sake of their friendship, but secrets was not one of those things.

Her backseater sighed, jaw clenching. “Jake pulled me aside.”

The hair on the back of her neck stood up, and suddenly she was very, very warm. “And what did he say?”

Gwyn almost pitied Alec, the poor boy looking mortified to be having this conversation. “See, that look right there is why I didn’t want to tell you.”

She was practically snarling now, near ravenous in her expression and tone. “Alec,” she warned lowly.

“Holt says you aren’t in it. Doesn’t think you’re really giving it your best. Jake wanted me to kinda…” he trailed off, miming a shoving gesture at her.

Gwyn’s eyes burned. “Did he now?”

Alec sighed, tossing his head back. “G, please. Don’t be mad. I think he was just trying to help you out.”

“So he goes to my wizzo instead of me?”

She was mad. Beyond mad.

How dare he go behind her back like that. It was one thing to pretend like he wasn’t in the wrong when it came to their breakup, but to go out of his way to avoid her when she should have been involved in this little secret meeting was another thing.

Jake fucking Seresin never failed to surprise her in his assholery. And honestly, what did he think he was going to achieve by going against her like this? Was he so fucking high and mighty now that he couldn’t bother telling her himself?

She thought back to their first mission together, when he had sent Maverick sniffing after her instead of doing it himself. Always sending his dogs to do his dirty work for him.

Fuck him.

Alec’s eyes were pleading and nervous now. “I don’t think he meant it like that, I think-”

“Let’s go.”

Gwyn slammed her locker harder than necessary, and headed for the door without waiting for Alec to follow.

Fine. If he wanted to ignore her, so be it.

But she wouldn’t make it easy.

—-------------

The sun’s heat was seeping into his bones, almost boiling him alive in the cockpit. The anxiety pushing at his nerves didn’t help with the sweat breaking out across his forehead, either.

He wanted this so badly. He wanted her to be better than what they thought she was. He had tried to see past her faultiness, chalking it up to getting the hang of it, but he knew she had been holding back.

Or that something was holding her back.

And he resented the idea that that something was him.

“Radio check, check, this is Hangman. If you can hear me, give me an affirmative,” he drawled out lazily. An array of confirmations rang back through his headset, one noticeably missing.

Nerves set in. Maybe he had miscalculated. Maybe she had packed her shit and left.

He steadied himself with a deep breath. The Gwyn he knew wouldn’t just leave. Not yet.

And she was still the girl he knew.

His girl.

“I’m on observation for this round, so I will not be engaging. On my call, you guys begin,” and he started the countdown, praying she’d sign on at any moment. She could scream at him over the comms at this point, just as long as she was here.

At his signal, the radio line muddled up with chatter quickly, most of it explicit enough to curdle even his stomach. He counted as planes dropped out one by one, some of the weaker links of the group bowing out first. Holt’s old-timers were good, as much as he hated to admit. They were weathered by years of hard work and their flying reflected that.

“You’re dead, Mooch,” came Bradley’s voice, and Jake took a second to relax.

At least one of his pilots was pulling through.

‘She’ll be here.’

He sure hoped so.

More cursing passed along with the minutes while more aviators cycled out of the drill, and eventually Jake had gotten close enough to watch the dogfight up close. Rooster was holding his own against the oldheads, but there were still some close calls.

He allowed a small surge of pride when Bradshaw gun locked Vegas and sent him packing, but steeled himself as the group dwindled down.

“What the fuck is happening?”

Jake paused, the question rushing out over the comms. It was one of the older pilots, callsign Flea or something equally fucking stupid, and he sounded almost…

Nervous?

“Talk to me, what’s happening down there?” Jake called out, eyes roaming through the mess of metal and open air to get a visual.

“I’ve got alarms, but I don’t see anybody, captain.”

Brow furrowed, Jake replied. “That doesn’t sound right.”

The hair on the back of his neck stood up. Enemy planes had slipped into drills back when Maverick was in his hay days, but security measures had stepped up several notches since then. It wasn’t a likely possibility.

But not impossible.

He had opened his mouth to radio back to control for some help when another shout broke out, crackling through his headset loud enough to make his ears ring.

“Shit!”

“Watch your head.”

Shaw.

Motherfucking Shaw.

“There they are,” Rooster singsonged, a gleeful note in the words. Even Jake wanted to smile.

His eyes scanned the open sky, frantically searching for her plane.

She was here. She had come.

He still knew her after all.

“Decided to come out and play with the big kids?” Shakespeare mocked. Jake wanted to snap at him, tell him to watch his tone, but knew better than to do that here. He’d bide his time.

Shakespeare was still at it though, taunting her. “Where are you, princess? Playing hide and seek with us now?”

“No one’s ever called me princess before,” Alec cut in, more smug as Jake had ever heard him. “But I like the sound of it, big papa.”

A laugh ripped out of Jake before he could stop it, praying he wouldn’t get shit from Holt later about his unprofessionalism. He was just light headed with giddiness.

She was here.

“Rooster, you’re dead,” Alec laughed, followed by Bradshaw’s array of curses.

“Cheek, baby, I thought you had something special,” he sighed. Jake bristled at the nickname, his nickname for her, but kept silent on the matter.

“She’s a bit preoccupied right now, honey, but she says it’s not you, it’s her, and she hopes you guys can still be friends,” and God, he hated how fucking funny Shaw was sometimes, even when he was mocking him.

“It’s just you and me now, sweetheart,” Shakespeare taunted, toying with her.

“Nope, just me.”

And then a shadow was falling over the other F-18, casting it in deep blues and grays. A strangled and startled curse peeled from Shakespeare and then he was driving his nose down to keep from colliding with the plane overhead.

Gwyn was pushing him down, staying right above his head and forcing him down, down, down. Jake’s breath hitched. She had him stuck. He had nowhere to go but down unless he wanted to pull up straight into her belly. Anywhere he tried to slip out, she was there, already on top of him.

She was pushing his ass all the way to the hard deck.

“She’s fucking riding me!” Shakespeare roared, loud enough to drown out the sound of Jake’s plane engine. The older pilot sounded scared, a new expression for him.

“Gross, aren’t you old enough to be her dad?” And leave it to Rev to still have a sense of humor even as he plummeted straight for the terrain.

Gwyn laughed, the first trace of humor he had heard from her all day, and then she was pulling back hard enough to make his stomach flip. Leveling out, she gave Shakespeare the mercy of five seconds before closing in and locking him in her sights.

“Shakespeare’s dead,” she breathed.

“No, don’t say that. Shakespeare will never be dead so long as the theater is alive and well,” Alec droned over the noise of the older pilot’s swearing and name calling.

Fucking Shaw.

“I’m tapping in,” Jake decided, clipping his mask on and picking up speed.

A male laugh sounded down the line, the RIO replying. “Oh goody, we were getting bored winning.”

Jake caught up to them quickly, lining himself to lock when Gwyn’s right wing dropped, sending her into a barrel roll out of his sights.

“Cheek!” he swore, startled. “What the hell are you doing?”

He could practically hear her smile over the headset. “Playing hangman.”

Jake smirked. So it was going to be like that.

Fine.

“Let’s see it, then.”

—--------

She had gotten him. She had actually gotten him.

Gwyn wanted to sob when she snuck into Jake’s blindspot just long enough to down him.

She had done it.

The flight back to base had been relatively quiet besides Alec’s bragging. Her chest felt lighter than it had in days, relief mixed with a sick sense of satisfaction.

It was one thing to be the last man standing. It was another thing to beat Jake Seresin. Hangman. The golden boy of the navy.

And the very person who was in for a tongue lashing once she got ahold of him.

It had been a long time coming, and she had finally reached her breaking point.

Her wheels had hardly hit the tarmac before her hands started shaking.

Good, let her be angry. Let him see how angry she was.

In a matter of minutes, she was dismounting and stomping her way back to the hangar. Alec’s heavy footfalls carried behind her and she threw a hand up when he called after her.

He couldn’t stop her now.

Inside the bay, several pilots had gathered to go over the day’s drill and what they could better and whatever else they fucking talked about when they weren’t flying. Her eyes zeroed in on the blonde in the corner, animatedly chatting with Rooster and not even sparing her a glance.

Asshole. Such an asshole.

And she was going to tell him exactly that.

Well, she would’ve, if a certain almost-grey haired pilot hadn’t slipped into her path while snarling at her.

“You,” Shakespeare raged, lip curled back against his teeth.

“Me,” she taunted back, trying to sidestep him to get to the person she really wanted to deal with, but he kept in front of her.

“I don’t know who the hell you think you are, but that shit you pulled out there? Unacceptable,” he bit at her.

Gwyn huffed, all sense of humor lost in her malice. “According to who?”

The older pilot’s eyes narrowed, looking exactly like the snake she envisioned him to be. “That tactic was bullshit, and you know it. How was I ever supposed to get out of that? Huh?”

His voice was rising enough to draw in the attention of others and she vaguely registered Jake’s green eyes turning to the pair of them.

She had had enough of these jackasses today.

“Have you ever considered just being better? Not being a shit pilot? Because that’s where I’d start if I was you,” she hissed. Captain fucking Seresin could get on her ass later about disrespect or “not being a team player” or whatever later. She’d take that beating after she distributed hers.

“Alright, easy there, break it up,” Jake insisted, pushing them apart gently. Shakespeare had started to open his mouth, but quickly shut it once he caught the look in his captain’s eyes.

He sulked away like a petulant child, and she wanted to roll her eyes. Probably would have, if she didn’t have another dickhead to deal with.

“Jake,” she warned lowly.

Green eyes fell on her again, and a small smile bloomed across his lips. She caught herself watching the curl of his mouth guiltily.

“Yes?” he practically purred.

Smug. Arrogant and smug and awful.

“Want to explain to me why you’re running to Alec to talk about my flying instead of me?” Her voice was pure venom. “If you think for even a second that I-“

“You flew better didn’t you?”

Her mouth dropped open at the interruption, mind whirling as she processed what he was saying. “What?”

Jake’s smile grew. “You just had the best flight of your career.”

Her mouth went dry, any sort of scathing reply dying on her tongue. Eyes narrowing, she spoke, “You did it on purpose.”

Mischief twinkled in those mossy green eyes. “You always fly better when you’re mad at me, and you hate it when I’m right.” His grin was wide enough to split his cheeks. “But in a way, I guess I was right. So I win either way.”

She was at a loss for words. He was so self-centered and egotistical and moody and infuriating.

And so goddamn brilliant.

“You’re an ass,” she said instead, but there was no fire in it. He was an ass but he covered her ass.

She could spiral later about how well he seemed to remember her to know exactly how to play her.

Jake threw his head back in a laugh, one that made her toes curl. He was smiling down at her when his breath evened out again. “So I’ve heard.”

And maybe it was the softness in his expression when he looked at her or the flip in her stomach, but Gwyn ducked out of the conversation then.

Better to leave it at that before she spilled her guts in a completely different way.

Part 6

tags: @my-soulmate-is-mycroft @unknown1010000202 @alanadetigy @barbiewritesstuff @dempy @maggieromanov @jake-h-ngm-n-seresin @fangirlingoverfangirls @mavswife @the-winter-marvel33 @fuzzy-panda @fangirlofallthings22 @wildxwidow @winesex @blue-aconite

#jake hangman seresin #jake seresin #hangman top gun #jake seresin x reader #jake hangman x reader #top gun maverick

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inkblot-inc · 2 years

Text

There's Always Today

Summary: Set post Westview; Can we get some sort of closure somewhere PLEASE I’m begging- oh hey there it is :3

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Reader

Warning(s): The mood is pretty somber for most of it but we’ve got a happy ending, so think hurt/comfort vibes; Wanda tears (I feel like that should be one), R sometimes needs to think before they speak but hey, they only mean well- (they just fumble the tactfulness bag a bit), break up/end of relationship but like amicable? (Bud it's a complex situation to think through), Also Vision being a toaster (but not a bad toaster per say)

Notes: So like, after Wandavision, I kept thinking about the fact that Vision is now essentially alive again with all of his memories and how he kinda just…took off? Yeah, I was bouncing ideas based off of that fact and out came this. Also was lowkey listening to Die for You by The Weekend while writing (don't know that is has any bearing on the story but you know...vibes). Hope you enjoy it!

Word Count: Somethin' like 3.2k

*squints* I give NO ONE permission to repost or translate my work. Make your own shit

You kept to the slightly worn path as you pulled up to the isolated residence and there she was, sitting on the step of her cabin.

She’d waited long enough.

As you got off your Davidson and cut the engine, Wanda got up to greet you with a quick hug that you gladly returned. “Thank you for coming, Y/n. For answering I mean,”

You laughed through your nose, “I’ve only been looking for you for the better part of a month.”

She pulled away to look you in the face, a sad smile made its way onto her own as she tried to return the same energy. “Well I hope you’re not too tired of the routine.”

You squeezed her shoulder under your palm.

"Never."

Wanda brought you inside as she put the kettle on. She took the time to make her request for your help more clear.

You’d kind of just been…Wandering the world as of now. With the Avengers coughing up dust with vacancies and having all but missed a good five years of your life, you yearned to regain connection.

There weren’t many things tying you to one place and you took full advantage of that. It was also a bit of a perk that people didn't really contact you for one reason or another, your schedule clear more often than not.

Missing five years of your life had done a lot to your psyche and lasting effects always trickled down, but you just wanted to make the sacrifice worth it.

Even though Yelena was a grown woman and could look after herself, you kept an ear out and a private phone line for her. It’s the least you could do to help a friend rest easy.

When Wanda disappeared after the smaller service you'd gotten together for Natasha, you'd gone to look for her. With both of you discombobulated and grieving the losses thrown at you in what felt like minutes, you figured it'd be best to stick together to have someone to lean on. You wound up going in circles before finally hearing about Wanda being somewhere in New Jersey. Maybe too late.

You were the best tracker Wanda knew. It was your specialty on the team; your superhuman sense of smell and hearing proved to be an invaluable asset on many a mission especially when paired with the efficient skill and tutelage of your late mentor. That being said, it was like something was actively keeping you away from Wanda, something she had no idea about. The block keeping you away simply ensured that you persisted that much more, and this time? There was finally a give to the wall coated in byzantium color.

Wanda told you all about what happened in Westview, her life with “Westview Vision”, her kids, the hex, Agatha Harkness, seeing “Real Vision” again, and the confusing mess of it all over a borderline addictive hibiscus blend.

“And he just..took off?”

“I know that he has his memories back. It’s Vis, my Vision, it’s just—I don’t know why-” Wanda heaved a sigh as her palms pressed firmly against her face. The past week had done nothing but let her stress from the whole ordeal grow and fester while on her own.

Why did he just leave? Without so much as a word. Wanda just finished grieving Vision and accepting that he was gone, only to find out that the revived version of him had somehow regained his memories sometime after he nearly killed her. It was like someone was playing a cruel joke on her over and over. Yes, she wanted to just move on with her life, but the fact remains that if her Vision is alive now, they can just go and live their lives together like they wanted somewhere else. For real this time.

Knowing that you’d been looking for her was the good news that she needed to hear.

So why wasn't he here?

Why did she have to wind up alone again?

You rested your hand over Wanda’s from across the dining room table with a warm smile on your face. “We’ll find ‘em, then you can ask Vision yourself," You stood and made your way back to the door before tossing your head over your shoulder. "Then I can kick his bolts in if you want.”

You wasted no time and it was still relatively early in the day when the two of you set out to find Vision. This case was a bit tougher to get a read on.

One: Vision didn’t own too many things to use as a fresh reference, and Two: He’d been in a sterilized building for the past five years, so you’d doubt he’d smell like much of anything now.

Every moment mattered at this point.

You settled on starting at places you know that he’s been before branching outward, Wanda narrowed down the list to start with the cities they’d visited together while on the run some time ago.

He’d never been anywhere else.

As you both traveled through Europe, You made it a point to keep Wanda’s mind off of the negative tilt of what ifs that seemed to ice out her optimism frequently.

The mention of Vision seemed to kill whatever positive buzz you could pull out of her. It wasn't much of a learning curve to it; Copenhagen was an especially quiet venture.

-----

You and Wanda slipped into a quiet cafe out of the light shower of rain. Both of you seated in a table near the back, you quickly tucked into a croquette platter without hesitation. Being set on high alert as a default actually leaves an impression on your stomach. Debatable whether it’s good or bad.

Wanda followed your lead much more slowly; she could probably actually taste the food.

There were hardly any leads as of now, and Vision's scent was just about gone from the navy jumper Wanda gave you for reference.

A grim smile rose on her face as she watched you, "I'm sorry for dragging you through all of this, Y/n."

You raised a brow as you proceeded to toss three cherry tomatoes in the air before catching each one, your arms out in a presenting fashion. "What're you sayin' sorry for? This is quite literally my whole life, Wands."

Wanda giggled a bit as she conceded with a small round of applause, "Yes, this is precisely what they paid you to be an Avenger for."

You narrowed your eyes playfully as you chewed. "I didn't get paid at all," You tossed a crumpled napkin at Wanda. "And neither did you, slick!"

She went into a full laugh as she threw her straw paper at you. Your eyes filled with mirth at the sound you'd come to be bent on bringing out of her.

Settling down and swallowing the contents in your mouth, you have your fist cover your mouth and stave off a belch. “Well we can cross Antwerp off the list. What do we have left? Paris and,”

“Edinburgh.”

You hum, “Right. Well we might have to double back here to catch the ferry that goes out to Scotland. France has gotten real finicky about rides the past few years and we got a lotta ground to cover,”

Wanda’s eyes were upward as she thought things over. “We can skip France altogether.” Her tone was resolute, certain. “Vis didn’t care to go to Paris anyways, It’s probably pointless to go.”

You took a quick drink from your beer, “Odd. Why?”

You kick yourself. The dimming of her eyes should’ve been enough.

Wanda keeps her eyes up, but her eyes aren’t wet as she gives a wry chuckle. “Vis said it was too typical for us. In the City of Love, going to the eiffel tower for an evening, fugitives or not. And typical as it sounded, I kind of wanted that y’know?”

You nodded along, “Yeah I get it, I mean sure everyone talks about it, but it’s a classic spot,”

Wanda fiddled with her fingers a bit as her eyes narrowed into as squint, still trained on the ceiling like the answers were written there. “To have a moment at a classic spot, if a bit cheesy, just to pretend everything was normal. That we were normal. We still went, but he was quick to add Belgium to the list afterward.”

Finishing up your food, you put your empty plate off to the side. “Well, I’ll make you a deal. We can go to Paris again after this, and we can do whatever the hell ya want, alright?”

And there they were again. Those reassurances you had no problem giving to Wanda, just sprinkled in.

You didn’t question a lot of things and preferred to take them in stride. It would cause problems from time to time, but it was something Wanda had grown to be very appreciative of. Even when she first met you; the times she needed her space were readily given and you never begrudged her when she went to bend your ear.

Moments like these remind her why she sought you out first, and why you were the first to show up.

As flighty as you could be, you were reliable.

You came back after tossing both of your trash out. Settling back in your seat, you both discussed the plan to get to Scotland.

-----

You kept an eye out for lurkers and people that might stare a bit too long as you walked out onto the deck of the boat. Neither of you were the general public’s favorite people, and the Westview incident was making its rounds outside of the states.

Wanda came out of the restroom to stand next to you. Your crossed arms rested on the rail as you leaned forward observing the clear scenery until you turned to face her.

You lightly bump Wanda’s shoulder, “I thought we left the bags in the cabin,”

Her eyebrows furrow before she catches on, letting out a tired laugh. Her hand ran over her face to try and wake herself up more. “Are they that visible?”

“No no, I just never really heard you settle down last night. Figured you didn’t sleep much.”

“You’d be right then,”

You turned to look at all the cloud cover, “Senses haven’t failed me yet.”

Both of you looked up when you heard the announcement that they were coming into port.

Wanda took a deep breath, “Let’s hope.”

She made her way off of the ferry in rushed steps with you behind her. You quickly take the lead going past a train station as you catch the remnants of a metallic pine-y scent, like offset Christmas. It was close enough to what you remember of Vision. That and it was only March.

You could see Wand’s posture stiffen a bit as you reached an apartment building.

Recognition.

You turn to the redhead, “Are we headin’ in?” This was ultimately her search and venture. Less courteous parts of you had lost fondness for the synthezoid when he turned you in back at that german airport as you let certain parties escape imprisonment way back when. That, and you and Vision didn’t mesh well to begin with. Whatever the outcome was when Wanda and Vision met again, you would simply follow her choice.

Wanda wordlessly pushed the door open as you stepped aside to let her go in first. Going up a few floors Wanda eventually stopped in front of a cherrywood door, the “416” all but scratched and faded on the plate.

You took Wanda’s hand in yours to offer some form of comfort, and she squeezed it slightly in appreciation.

Using her powers to unlock and open the door, you both made your way inside. The scent was more concentrated here.

Wanda seemed to go off into her own world, her hand passing over the back of the small sofa as she moved past it. It was only slightly more furnished than she remembered and new light fixtures made the space appear brighter than she’d ever seen it.

“I see you’ve let yourself in, well that’s fine.”

That voice

Spinning on her heel, Wanda turned to find Vision, granted in his human form, wearing a cream sweater and slacks.

His eyes flitted to you briefly, “You’ve brought the Bloodhound. A peculiar acquaintance, but I suppose it would only be appropriate.”

You pointedly ignored him as you stayed by the door. You looked to Wanda, “I’ll be just outside if you need me.”

Wanda looked at you, uneasy. “Oh- alright then.” It was odd for you to not be there with her now that it’d become a constant for her the past couple of weeks. As she watched you softly click the door shut, she debated whether or not she should call you back in to stay so her nerves would fully settle. She took a deep breath as she rooted herself to the floor, listening as your footsteps eventually began to peter out.

---

Wanda rooted herself to the floor as her gaze shifted from the door to Vision who stood a ways away, apparently more content with the silence than Wanda herself.

It was a good minute before Vision moved fully into the main room. Wanda felt lost. Angry? She felt that her expectations had been met and missed at the same time and she just wanted to move past the wall that seemed to divide them.

Before she could say anything however, Vision brought a hand up to stop her.

"I cannot go back with you Wanda. I will not, rather."

Of course he knew why she was here.

Her tongue was almost trapped in her mouth, "What? Why not? -" The part of her that held out hope began to shrivel up as she felt her pulse rise. In a way this wasn't surprising, but the hurt she felt from the statement was still very real.

Vision's words were not harsh, but they were cutting, "We cannot- I cannot simply go back to the way that things were, Wanda." He then deactivated his human cover as she got a good look at his new glacier form. Wanda struggled to keep looking at him and took a hard swallow, opting to look to the floor and wishing that you were in the room to give her your strength as she glanced at the door once again.

Her hands stayed clenched at her sides as her eyes began to water. "What I did to you, in Westview and to in lieu of that-"

“It has nothing to do with what you’ve done, Wanda. I do not think less of you, nor do I think ill of you. and although I understand it must be difficult to hear, I would like for you to hear my words and believe them.

Vision's eyes remained steady on Wanda. "I simply do not want this. I've taken time to reaffirm myself and think. I've come to the conclusion that I desire none of the life I remember living, no matter how vivid it was. It is not a beauty that I can recognize for myself anymore. As I am, my past feels far off and what I felt for you feels foreign, Wanda. It is something that I can acknowledge, but never fully grasp again.

"We have been torn apart and stitched back together and we have become vastly different people for it. I am simply not the same person...I am not who you've been looking for, Wanda.”

Vision’s words were a startling mix of heartfelt thought and clinical logic that Wanda found it hard to see past, fighting the overwhelming urge to recede into herself.

But she listened to him.

Her tears had yet to stop, but they were slowing down as she caught a glimpse of you outside the window, kicking a non-existent can as you had yet to be still.

Vision came closer and lightly placed his hand on Wanda's shoulder as he looked out of the same window from behind her.

“Every day I wake I find that I know frighteningly little about life, but what I’ve come to understand is that you create your memories in the present because it is the only thing that is promised. I can only hope to make the most of it as it comes, and I hope for you to do the same, Wanda.”

Vision pressed a lingering kiss to her forehead.

Wanda turned to face him and, for the last time, she raised her hand to Vision’s head over the blue chip gleaming back at her that took the place of the yellow she knew. She bit her lip as a smaller wave of new tears ran from her eyes.

“I-I can feel you.”

Vision covered her hand with his own in a soft grip.

“I’m glad.”

Wanda wasn't left with nothing as she had previously believed. And it was time that she understood that.

She looked back out the window.

---

You looked up from the steps to the building entrance as Wanda came out of it. Her face was a bit puffy and eyes red, but she was calm.

“I would ask how it went, but uh-”

“Better than I thought.” She took a second before she nodded to confirm as the conversation replayed in her head again.

“Oh! Well that’s good then,” You felt her hand slip into your own and you were more than a little confused. Where’s Vision then?

“Let’s get home, I’ll fill you in on the way.” You watched her create a portal back to the bed and breakfast to grab your things.

“Oookay?”

-----

It had been a little over a year since then. Wanda took that time to heal and process with all that happened seemingly one after another. It was a much needed calm as she used her powers less and less and just focused on other things to occupy her time.

She’d taken up farming and even got some area cleared to start growing other plants on the terrain surrounding her home. Certain topics were discolored, but they were less and less sensitive for her to think about.

It was an effort for a fresh start.

You hadn’t been traveling as much so you could be around for Wanda should she need you, but still enough so that you could stretch your legs. She wanted to wait a bit longer before she began to join you on your trips and venture freely.

You’d just come back from Bucharest, an extra set of hands to get a hold of a particularly slippery widow as a rare favor to Yelena.

As you pulled up to the remodeled cabin and got out of your new truck, you saw the familiar figure on the steps before she got up to meet you.

Hands full, you let her take one of the bags out of your grip.

“Nice trip?”

You shrug, “Eh, it was eventful. Yelena says hey by the way. It’ll probably be a bit before she can come by, but I was able to get you somethin’ while I was away,” You held the door open for her with your foot as you both made your way to the kitchen. “I got my contact to hook me up with some sugar maple seedling-things, since you mentioned wanting to grow ‘em last time. Jin even threw in a Gorosoe for a loyalty benefit.”

As you unpacked your to-go bags, Wanda simply listened to you ramble on about spiles and looking out back to find a spot for the trees to grow.

A smile bloomed on her face as she leaned forward to close the distance between you from across the table, and you gladly sunk into the kiss. Eventually pulling away, you were in a bit of a daze before you broke out into a grin. It'd been about a week since you'd last seen her.

“Thank you for being here.”

“As long as you’ll have me.”

As you got everything squared away and began helping Wanda prep dinner, her eyes drifted to a small frame that held two used ticket stubs to Paris sitting on the mantle in the main room.

The present is the only thing that’s promised.

#marvel #marvel one shots #wandavision #vision #wanda maximoff #scarlet witch #scarlet witch x reader #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x you #wanda maximoff x yn #there's always today #jc ink canons #jc inkworks #ink.wanda #ib-jc.

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pesterloglog · 2 months

Text

Karkat Vantas, John Egbert

Page 365-375

KARKAT: ROUGH DAY, HUH.

JOHN: karkat?

JOHN: what are you doing here?

KARKAT: IT'S NICE TO SEE YOU TOO.

KARKAT: JOHN, YOU MAY NOT HAVE NOTICED, BUT I AM THE LEADER OF AN ARMY. MY PLACE IS ON THE BATTLEFIELD.

JOHN: i suppose that is true, but that doesn't answer my question!

JOHN: this isn't a battlefield, it's just...

KARKAT: THE OBLITERATED, SMOLDERING HUSK OF YOUR FORMER HOME.

JOHN: well, yeah.

KARKAT: WHICH WAS DESTROYED AS COLLATERAL IN AN ONGOING MILITARY CONFLICT.

JOHN: oh all right, fine.

JOHN: it just feels weird to call it that.

JOHN: i guess i'm used to thinking of home as somewhere far away from all that war stuff.

KARKAT: JESUS *CHRIST* JOHN.

KARKAT: I CANNOT EVEN BEGIN TO LIST ALL THE WAYS IN WHICH THAT CONSTITUTES A SHORT-SIGHTED AND PUKE-WORTHILY IGNORANT THING TO SAY TO ME, PERSONALLY.

KARKAT: AND FRANKLY I DON'T HAVE TIME TO BOTHER, THANKS TO THE COUNTLESS FIRES I HAVE BEEN PUTTING OUT ALL DAY, THE ONE PRESENTLY CONSUMING YOUR HIVE NOTWITHSTANDING.

KARKAT: YOU KNOW WHAT WOULD HAVE MADE THINGS GO A BIT MORE SMOOTHLY? JUST A FRACTION?

KARKAT: IF YOU HADN'T JUST DECIDED TO WANDER OFF THE INSTANT SHIT STARTED HAPPENING.

JOHN: jeez, i'm sorry karkat.

JOHN: i had no idea how much time had passed.

JOHN: i must have gotten a bit distracted by my house being blown up.

KARKAT: NOT WANTING TO POINT OUT THE OBVIOUS, BUT I FEEL LIKE THIS WAS A PROBLEM THAT YOU OF ALL PEOPLE WERE UNIQUELY AND MAGICALLY EQUIPPED TO DEAL WITH.

JOHN: huh?

KARKAT: YOU KNOW.

KARKAT: WITH YOUR SHOOSH THING.

JOHN: my shoosh thing.

KARKAT: YOUR SHOOSH THING.

KARKAT: THE GUSTY NONSENSE? THE GIFT OF GAS??

KARKAT: YOUR SBURB ALLOCATED BLOW JOB???

JOHN: uh.

KARKAT: THE SUPERNATURAL COMMUNION YOU HAVE WITH ALL THINGS WINDY, YOU ASS!!

JOHN: oh right, that.

JOHN: that would have let me put the fire out, maybe.

JOHN: i don't think there's anything in my skillset that would have unexploded my house though.

KARKAT: THAT'S FAIR.

JOHN: i suppose i'll add one more notch to the daily tally of crazy stuff that happened which i just have to accept as my life now.

JOHN: so...

JOHN: what else happened while i was caught up watching the symbolic representation of my former life get consumed in a giant fire ball?

KARKAT: OH BOY. WHERE TO START.

KARKAT: SO FIRST OFF, IN HINDSIGHT, TODAY WAS PRETTY OBVIOUSLY JUST ONE HUGE BAITED TRAP.

KARKAT: I SAY "IN HINDSIGHT", BUT FORTUNATELY IT WAS ALSO EXTREMELY APPARENT EVEN IN FORESIGHT TO THOSE OF US WHO SPENT A FEW SECONDS THINKING ABOUT IT.

JOHN: ...right.

KARKAT: OH COME ON EGBERT, SERIOUSLY?

KARKAT: KIDNAPPING A PERSON OF IMPORTANCE, ONLY TO LET US KNOW PRECISELY WHERE AND ON WHAT OCCASION THEY WOULD BE MOST ACCESSIBLE FOR A RESCUE ATTEMPT?

KARKAT: HAVING THAT OCCASION BE NONE OTHER THAN THE CORPSE PARTY OF A HIGHLY NOTEWORTHY POLITICAL FIGURE, WHOSE CASKET MIGHT AS WELL HAVE HAD A GIANT "KICK ME" SIGN DAUBED ON IT?

KARKAT: THERE WAS BASICALLY NO WAY IT WASN'T A FRONT FOR SOMETHING HUGE. AND IT WAS!

KARKAT: WE HAPPEN TO BE SITTING IN FRONT OF ONE FACET OF THAT HUGENESS AT THIS VERY MOMENT.

JOHN: well, when you put it like that...

JOHN: i guess we all got pranked pretty hard, huh.

KARKAT: THIS IS NO TIME FOR YOUR SHITTY NERD PRANKS JOHN.

KARKAT: FRANKLY I'M INSULTED THAT YOU THINK SUCH A WORD IS EVEN REMOTELY APPOSITE TO THE PRESENT SITUATION.

KARKAT: OTHER THAN TO DESCRIBE THE WAY I AM PERSONALLY BEING "PRANKED" BY REALITY IN HAVING TO EXPLAIN ALL THIS TO YOU.

KARKAT: ANYWAY, THE RESCUE ATTEMPT.

KARKAT: THIS IS THE ONLY POINT WHERE ANY SEMBLANCE OF GOOD NEWS COMES INTO PLAY, SO SAVOR IT.

JOHN: okay.

KARKAT: IT TURNS OUT THAT WE DIDN'T NEED TO PUT SO MUCH EFFORT INTO THE RESCUING YIFFY PART OF THE OPERATION.

KARKAT: SHE BASICALLY RESCUED HERSELF WHEN ALL WAS SAID AND DONE.

KARKAT: AND TOOK CARE OF KICKING GAMZEE'S CORPSEBOX OVER WHILE SHE WAS AT IT, IN A STUNNING DISPLAY OF EFFICIENCY WHICH THE REST OF US CAN ONLY ASPIRE TO.

JOHN: oh wow, haha.

JOHN: i knew she'd be a bit of a character, being rose and jade's daughter and all...

JOHN: but that's impressive!

JOHN: it sounds like she'd be a pretty welcome addition to your ranks then.

KARKAT: SHE'S A CHILD, YOU MORON.

KARKAT: OH, AND SPEAKING OF WHICH.

KARKAT: PAUSING BRIEFLY TO NOTE IN ADVANCE HOW MUCH I LOATHE THE FACT THAT THIS IS AN EVENTUALITY THAT THE UNIVERSE HAS *ONCE AGAIN* SEEN FIT TO CURSE US WITH:

KARKAT: THE VRISKAS, PLURAL.

JOHN: shit.

KARKAT: THEY'VE BOTH BEEN CAPTURED.

JOHN: shiiiiiiiit.

KARKAT: YEAH.

KARKAT: GREAT WORK KEEPING AN EYE ON THEM, BY THE WAY!

KARKAT: YOU LITERALLY HAD ONLY ONE JOB, AND YOU MESSED IT UP IN THE EQUALLY SINGULAR WAY IT WAS POSSIBLE TO DO.

JOHN: urgh, i know, i know. ):

KARKAT: HAVING SAID THAT, THIS WAS THE ONE THING UP CROCKER'S SLEEVE YOU COULD BE EXCUSED FROM NOT HAVING SEEN COMING.

KARKAT: I GUESS BECAUSE, ON THE FACE OF IT, IT'S JUST TOTALLY FUCKING BANANAS!

KARKAT: JANE'S PLAN FOR THIS CONFLICT HAS THUS FAR CONSISTED ALMOST ENTIRELY OF KIDNAPPING VARIOUS HIGH PROFILE CHILDREN.

KARKAT: IT'S BIZARRE.

KARKAT: AS THOUGH WE ARE FIGHTING A WAR OF ATTRITION, WHERE THE MAIN RESOURCE BEING UTILIZED IS THE OFFSPRING OF THE MOST POWERFUL PEOPLE ON THE PLANET.

KARKAT: IF IT WASN'T ONE OF THE CORE TENETS OF HER FASCISTIC PHILOSOPHY, I'D BE TEMPTED TO SAY THAT CURBING REPRODUCTION MIGHT HAVE BEEN A GOOD IDEA, IF ONLY TO PREVENT THIS KIND OF FUCKSHIT NONSENSE FROM HAPPENING.

JOHN: wait.

JOHN: wait a minute.

JOHN: you said that both vriskas have been captured, right?

KARKAT: EXCUSE ME WHILE I WEEP FOR JOY AT THE REVELATION THAT YOU HAVE BEEN PAYING ATTENTION FOR ONCE.

JOHN: okay, well putting that emotional outburst aside for a moment.

JOHN: how is that even possible?

JOHN: doesn't vriska, the original vriska, still have her magic alien mind control powers?

JOHN: it seems like it should be basically impossible for anyone to kidnap her.

KARKAT: YOU'VE STUMBLED ASS BACKWARDS ACROSS THE MOST IMPORTANT POINT OF THIS UNFORTUNATE DEVELOPMENT.

KARKAT: YOU ARE CORRECT, IN THAT WITH HER CASTE-TYPICAL, *COMPLETELY SCIENTIFIC AND NOT EVEN A LITTLE BIT MAGICAL* PSYCHOMANIPULATIVE ABILITIES, STAYING OUT OF CROCKER'S REACH SHOULD HAVE BEEN COMPLETELY TRIVIAL FOR SERKET PRIME.

KARKAT: EVEN ACCOUNTING FOR THE FACT THAT SAID ABILITIES ARE NOT NEARLY AS POTENT ON HUMANS AS THEY ARE ON FELLOW TROLLS, THEY STILL OUGHT TO HAVE TIPPED ANY ALTERCATION SQUARELY IN HER FAVOR.

KARKAT: BUT SOMEHOW, IT DIDN'T!

KARKAT: INSTEAD, THINGS APPEAR TO HAVE GONE GLOBES UP IN CLASSIC VRISKITE FASHION, AND NOW ONE OF THE MOST UNEXPECTED AND UNWANTED BUT NEVERTHELESS USEFUL WEAPONS IN OUR ARSENAL IS DOING TIME IN CROCKERJAIL.

KARKAT: THAT'S ABOUT ALL WE'VE BEEN ABLE TO GLEAN FROM TAPPING INTO THE BATTERBITCH AIRWAVES, WHICH IS A FANCY TERM FOR EAVESDROPPING ON THOSE OF HER AGENTS WHO TALK A LITTLE TOO LOUDLY IN SEMI-PUBLIC SPACES.

JOHN: jeez.

JOHN: i really screwed that up, didn't i.

KARKAT: I'M RELIEVED TO SEE THAT YOUR GRASP OF THAT FACT IS PRETTY GOOD AT LEAST.

JOHN: ):

KARKAT: HAVING SAID ALL OF THAT, AND WITH THE RECOGNITION THAT I AM CHOOSING TO NURSE YOUR BRUISED FEELINGS DURING A PLANET WIDE CONFLICT FOR THE FATE OF MY SPECIES,

KARKAT: IS THERE ANYTHING I CAN DO TO EXPEDITE YOUR GETTING THE FUCK OVER IT?

JOHN: i... hm.

JOHN: i don't really know?

JOHN: this all feels wrong, karkat.

JOHN: no offense, but when you're around, it's usually a lot...

KARKAT: A LOT WHAT?

JOHN: a lot funnier.

KARKAT: FUNNIER.

JOHN: how to put this.

JOHN: normally listening to you go on and on about how much we've fucked everything up is just very funny!

JOHN: but now it's just not the same.

JOHN: maybe it's part of what's going on with this entire reality? i don't know.

JOHN: once upon a time i would have put down your ability to pull a silly rant out of your butt as a fundamental law of physics or something.

JOHN: remember back when we first knew each other?

JOHN: it felt like all you ever said to me was how much you thought i was screwing up and being a useless asshole.

JOHN: and once i realized that you were also just a dumb kid who didn't know what was going on, i started to kind of enjoy it.

JOHN: but now it's like... the only one who's still a dumb kid is me, and everyone else has something big and important going on that i just don't understand.

JOHN: i thought that i finally got what was going on with this whole war and everything. i wanted to be useful!

JOHN: i guess i got a little too wrapped up in the feeling of something finally happening again.

JOHN: and then watching it all blow up in my face, kind of literally now that i think about it...

JOHN: it's hard not to feel even more dejected about the situation than i was before.

JOHN: and now even the patented karkat vant rant has lost all its sparkle.

JOHN: maybe if you had like, painstakingly itemized a list of all the things wrong with my plan in a comically overdone fashion or something.

KARKAT: I CONSIDERED IT, BUT HONESTLY THERE WAS SO MUCH WRONG THAT I CONCLUDED THAT THE BEST THING FOR EVERYONE WOULD BE TO NEVER SPEAK OF IT AGAIN.

JOHN: oh. okay.

KARKAT: IF WE'RE BEING HONEST, YOU DIDN'T EVEN HAVE A PLAN, JOHN.

KARKAT: CALLING IT A PLAN WOULD IMPLY THAT IT WAS A STRUCTURED SEQUENCE OF STEPS DESIGNED TO ACHIEVE A GOAL.

KARKAT: WHAT YOU CAME UP WITH WAS A CONVOLUTED MESS WHICH STILL SOMEHOW INVOLVED DOING FUCKALL.

KARKAT: AND I USE CONVOLUTED HERE IN THE SAME WAY THAT I WOULD TO DESCRIBE THE FRENZIED DRAWSTICK SCRIBBLES OF A SQUALLING HUMAN INFANT.

KARKAT: SPEAKING OF WHICH:

KARKAT: DRAWING A SHITTY PICTURE WITH "THE ULTIMATE PLAN" AT THE TOP AND A BUNCH OF ARROWS DOES NOT, AND TO THE BEST OF MY KNOWLEDGE HAS NEVER, CONSTITUTED AN ACTIONABLE PLAN.

KARKAT: DO NOT RESPOND TO THIS CRITICISM WITH ANOTHER MISERABLE EXPRESSION, I AM BEGGING YOU.

JOHN: okay ):

KARKAT: LOOK.

KARKAT: I APPRECIATE THAT YOU SEEM TO HAVE DUG YOUR PAN OUT OF YOUR OWN CHUTE THE FEW MICROMETERS NECESSARY TO NOTICE THE PRECISE DEGREE TO WHICH THE WORLD IS BEING JUDICIOUSLY BATFUCKED RIGHT NOW.

KARKAT: AS HARD AS IT IS TO BELIEVE, THAT'S A FEAT WHICH NO SMALL NUMBER OF PEOPLE ARE COMPLETELY INCAPABLE OF DOING!

KARKAT: BUT NOTICING THE PROBLEM AND MAKING MEANINGFUL PROGRESS TOWARDS SOLVING IT ARE TWO COMPLETELY DIFFERENT THINGS.

KARKAT: THE NEXT TIME YOU GET THE IMPULSE TO "LEND A HAND", YOU'D BE BETTER OFF CANNING IT FOR FIVE MINUTES AND LISTENING TO THOSE OF US WHO'VE BEEN TRYING TO SOLVE IT A LOT LONGER THAN YOU HAVE.

KARKAT: THIS ISN'T AN EXERCISE BEING CONDUCTED IN ORDER FOR YOU TO PROVE YOUR PERSONAL DEGREE OF MORAL RECTITUDE.

KARKAT: AND IF IT WAS, YOU WOULD HAVE ALREADY FAILED MISERABLY! SO DO YOURSELF AND EVERYONE ELSE A FAVOR AND STOP TREATING IT LIKE ONE.

JOHN: well... all right. if you say so karkat.

KARKAT: I DO SAY SO, EMPHATICALLY AND AT GREAT VOLUME.

KARKAT: AND NOW THAT MY OBLIGATION TO CATECHIZE YOU ON THE SUBJECT OF YOUR OWN LIFE IS FULFILLED, I HAVE A WAR TO GET BACK TO.

JOHN: wait, hold on.

KARKAT: OH MY GOD WHAT NOW.

JOHN: you can't be leaving already.

JOHN: there's... so much we still need to talk about!

KARKAT: OF COURSE I'M SHITTING LEAVING.

KARKAT: WHAT MORE COULD THERE POSSIBLY BE FOR US TO DISCUSS??

KARKAT: PLEASE DO NOT TELL ME YOU JUST HAD ANOTHER EMOTION THAT WE NEED TO DROP EVERYTHING IN ORDER TO DISSECT.

JOHN: no, that's not what i'm talking about at all.

JOHN: karkat, we still haven't spoken about *you*!

KARKAT: ABOUT ME?

JOHN: yes.

KARKAT: ABOUT *ME*?

JOHN: about you.

KARKAT: WHAT THE FUCK ABOUT ME.

JOHN: well...

JOHN: you know, how you feel!

KARKAT: HOW I FEEL.

JOHN: or just...

JOHN: argh, i don't know!

JOHN: it's just been so long since we've seen each other.

JOHN: all sorts of things have happened in that time, and it doesn't feel right to just not even mention any of it!

KARKAT: LIKE WHAT??

JOHN: oh, i don't know karkat, literally anything!

JOHN: i mean, look at you.

JOHN: you are decked out in a tight body suit and have an eyepatch and everything. there is simply no way there isn't something to discuss there.

JOHN: or like, forget the eyepatch, we don't have to talk about the eyepatch.

JOHN: i feel as though my point still stands?

JOHN: there is basically a bottomless well full of stuff to go through.

JOHN: i mean we kind of glossed over it when you brought her up earlier, but what about yiffy?

JOHN: this might not come across so easily due to human troll cultural boundaries, but her existing is kind of a big deal??

JOHN: i feel like somehow i missed the part where we all sit around and talk about how strange it is that two of our friends went off and had a secret child without any of us knowing!

JOHN: is it too much to ask that we have that part now, karkat?

JOHN: i mean, maybe it just doesn't mean that much to you.

KARKAT: JOHN.

JOHN: which is a little strange, given that it ties in to the whole conflict that you had with jade and dave.

JOHN: oh god we have to talk about dave.

KARKAT: JOHN.

KARKAT: FUCKING HELL!

KARKAT: I DON'T WANT TO TALK ABOUT DAVE.

JOHN: no, this is what i mean, karkat.

JOHN: we need to talk about dave!

KARKAT: HAHA! LIKE SHIT WE DO!!

KARKAT: I HAVE NO FUCKING CLUE HOW THIS IS EVEN A RELEVANT TOPIC OF CONVERSATION.

JOHN: oh come on.

JOHN: there's no way you aren't feeling kind of messed up about him, right?

JOHN: i know i am.

JOHN: whenever i think about how things ended between you two...

JOHN: especially now that he's...

JOHN: ugh, i'm sorry. i'm SO sorry karkat. sorry doesn't even begin to cover it.

JOHN: this whole thing feels so impossibly sad.

JOHN: all i'm trying to say is...

JOHN: it's not healthy to bottle these feelings up and not acknowledge them.

JOHN: even if you aren't feeling anything right now, and i don't for a moment believe that's true, *i* need to talk about dave!

JOHN: so can we please just talk about dave for a moment.

KARKAT: NNNNGNGNGGGGGGGUUUUUUGUUGHHHHHHHH FINE.

KARKAT: IF IT WILL GET YOU TO SHUT UP ABOUT THIS TOPIC FOR EVEN A BRIEF MOMENT, THEN FINE.

KARKAT: REGARDLESS OF HOW POINTLESS AN EXERCISE I CONSIDER IT TO BE, I WILL DISCUSS WITH YOU MY "FEELINGS" ABOUT DAVE.

JOHN: okay.

JOHN: thank you.

KARKAT: ARE YOU PREPARED TO BE INUNDATED WITH NONE OTHER THAN AN UNINTERRUPTED SPATE OF HARD, UNEMBELLISHED DATA VIS A VIS MY SWEEPS-SUPPRESSED, BISCUITFELT EMOTIONS ON THE DAVE SITUATION??

KARKAT: WELL HERE GOES.

KARKAT: *DEEP BREATH*

KARKAT: YOU WANT TO KNOW HOW I REALLY FEEL ABOUT DAVE?

KARKAT: HOW I FEEL IS THAT I WISH THAT EVERYONE WOULD STOP FUCKING BOTHERING ME ABOUT HIM!!!

KARKAT: ALRIGHT, SO HE AND JADE GOT HUMAN MARRIED!! BIG DEAL!!!

KARKAT: DO PEOPLE FORGET THAT I WAS THERE?? I FEEL LIKE EVERYONE IS FORGETTING THAT I WAS LITERALLY INVITED TO THE OCCASION.

KARKAT: I'VE EVEN COME TO EXPECT THIS KIND OF AMNESIAC BEHAVIOR FROM EVERYONE ELSE, SINCE I ADMIT THAT I DIDN'T EXACTLY STICK AROUND OR ACTUALLY SHOW MY FACE FOR MOST OF THE ORDEAL, BUT YOU EGBERT SHOULD HAVE NO FUCKING EXCUSE!

JOHN: wait, karkat, that's not what i

KARKAT: SO YEAH! THAT WHOLE THING HAPPENED, AND I CAME TO TERMS WITH WHATEVER THERE WAS TO COME TO TERMS WITH, WHICH WAS FUCKING *NOTHING*, AND THEN I GOT ON WITH THE ACTUAL IMPORTANT BUSINESS OF TRYING TO PREVENT THE WORLD FROM CRUMBLING!

KARKAT: WHICH, NOW THAT WE'RE ON THE SUBJECT, IS *STILL FUCKING HAPPENING*!

KARKAT: I AM UTTERLY APPALLED THAT THIS IS AN INFO MORSEL I KEEP HAVING TO SPOONFEED DOWN YOUR WINDCHUTE EVERY FIVE SECONDS, JOHN, I REALLY AM.

KARKAT: I MEAN HOLY SHIT, NOW IS NOT THE TIME FOR THIS!

KARKAT: AND ONE THING I CAN SAY WITH ABSOLUTE IRONCLAD CERTAINTY IS THAT IF DAVE WERE HERE, HE WOULD SAY THE SAME THING!!

KARKAT: SPEAKING OF WHICH, WHERE *IS* DAVE??

JOHN: um.

KARKAT: I FEEL LIKE IF ANYONE COULD HAVE PREVENTED TODAY FROM DEVOLVING INTO A HEADLESS CLUSTERFUCK, IT WOULD HAVE BEEN... OKAY, MAYBE NOT HIM, BUT AT LEAST HE MIGHT HAVE HELPED DRAG YOU OUT OF YOUR DEPRESSIVE FUGUE A LITTLE SOONER!

JOHN: (oh shit.)

KARKAT: NOT ONLY THAT, BUT MAYBE WITH BOTH OF US HERE WE COULD HAVE DISPENSED WITH THIS ENTIRE SORRY TOPIC ONCE AND FOR ALL, IF ONLY FOR YOUR BENEFIT!

KARKAT: OH HI DAVE, JOHN SEEMS TO BE UNDER THE IMPRESSION THAT THE UNSPOKEN HISTORY BETWEEN US IS OF SUFFICIENT IMPORT THAT WE NEED TO HASH IT OUT THIS VERY SECOND IN FRONT OF THE BLASTED REMAINS OF HIS HOME!

KARKAT: yo karkat that does seem to be a strange thing for my best friend john to be concerned about given that he has spent the past five years wallowing in the depths of deepest divorce fever

KARKAT: and especially since jade and i have meanwhile been working as part of your resistance with no complaints, but sure, we can brofist each other and arrange our limbs in an unambiguously platonic way

KARKAT: a way which is also flawlessly calculated to communicate to everyone present that here are two guys who are totally and unequivocally over each other

JOHN: (oh god. you don't...)

KARKAT: THAT SOUNDS LIKE A GREAT IDEA DAVE, AND WITH THAT MAYBE THAT WAY WE CAN WASH OUR TOUCH STUMPS OF THIS WHOLE ORDEAL AND NEVER HAVE TO SPEAK OF IT AGAIN!

KARKAT: WOULD YOU LIKE THAT, JOHN?

KARKAT: WOULD THAT SATISFY YOUR CRAVING FOR CATHARSIS ON THE SUBJECT OF DAVE??

KARKAT: WELL WHY DON'T WE TRY IT THEN.

KARKAT: IN FACT, WHY DON'T YOU CALL DAVE AND GET HIM OVER HERE RIGHT NOW!

JOHN: (oh my god...)

KARKAT: MAYBE WE SHOULD GET JADE TO COME AS WELL!

JOHN: ):

KARKAT: FUCK, WHY NOT INVITE FUCKING EVERYONE!!!

KARKAT: WHY NOT PRESS "PAUSE" ON THE RACE WAR FOR A MOMENT AND HAVE ONE HUGE FEELINGS JAM LAWNMEAL WHERE WE ALL PUBLICLY EXPATIATE OUR VARIOUS CONVOLUTED EMOTIONS.

KARKAT: FORGET PEACE TALKS, GET FUCKING *CROCKER* TO COME!

KARKAT: MAYBE THE SIGHT OF A DAVEKAT RECONCILIATION IS THE SECRET KEY TO UNLOCKING THE PART OF HER BRAIN THAT STOPS HER FROM BEING A GENOCIDAL RACIST BITCH!!!

KARKAT: HOW COULD WE HAVE POSSIBLY BEEN SO BLIND!!!!!!

KARKAT: IF GAMZEE WASN'T DEAD, YOU COULD HAVE INVITED HIM AS WELL!

KARKAT: HAHAHA, THAT'S OKAY, WE STILL HAVE A VERITABLE MENAGERIE OF PEOPLE WE KNOW WHO AREN'T DEAD.

JOHN: ))))):

KARKAT: ALL OF WHOM I AM SURE WILL BE SIMPLY DELIGHTED TO ATTEND WHAT WILL UNDOUBTEDLY BE THE SINGLE MOST IMPORTANT EVENT IN EARTH C'S BULLSHIT HISTORY.

KARKAT: IF THIS IS WHAT IT TAKES, EGBERT, THEN I AM PREPARED TO DO IT!

KARKAT: DON'T THINK THAT I WON'T!!

KARKAT: IF JUST FOR AN *INSTANT* IT WILL GET EVERYONE OFF MY CASE ABOUT THIS, I WILL STAND UP WITH DAVE IN FRONT OF THE ENTIRE ***FUCKING WORLD*** AND SOLEMNLY VOW THAT I DO NOT GIVE A SHIT!!!!

JOHN: KARKAT!!!!

JOHN: ugh, fuck, this is just too much!

JOHN: i thought you KNEW!

KARKAT: KNEW WHAT???

JOHN: dave's GONE, karkat!

JOHN: he's...

JOHN: he's dead.

JOHN: i didn't mean for you to find out like this at all, i thought...

JOHN: i mean, i only heard about it yesterday, but i was convinced someone would have told you already!

JOHN: apparently one minute he was there, and the next...

JOHN: none of us even know how it happened, and it doesn't make any sense that he's dead, but he is.

JOHN: he is dead and he's not coming back.

KARKAT:

JOHN: talk to me karkat, please.

JOHN: please talk to me karkat.

KARKAT:

KARKAT: HE...

KARKAT: HE DIDN'T EVEN SAY GOODBYE?

#homestuck #homestuck^2 #karkat vantas #john egbert #homestuck^2 act 1 #page 365 #page 366 #page 367 #page 368 #page 369 #page 370 #page 371 #page 372 #page 373 #page 374 #page 375

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gwydionmisha · 10 months

Text

Personal: This Person Just Uncleaned My Apartment

I think I need to tell you about the Cleaner, because OMG, but for that you will need context on my pain/meds situation.

So less pain does not remotely equal no pain. My hip joints were a mess Wednesday, and only a little better Thursday. My shoulder joints, and thus my arms, started to go bad Thursday. The fundamental things wrong with my body aren't fixable, but the new meds are doing a stellar job on what I think of as the secondary pain, IE: everything else not joint or tendon or in their immediate vicinity. It is far more effective than the muscle relaxants I've been using for decades at this since it's hitting the nerves and not just the muscles. It also adds to the tired. So much to the tired. Bonus: on the new dose, I get dizzy if I don't rest enough, and the heart palpitations hit longer and harder when they hit.

Dramatically better means for an extreme chronic pain/chronic illness perspective, not from a remotely healthy person's perspective, if you follow. I was into about a month of unbearable torment when we tried the one pill dosage. I'm still not sure my system can handle the two pills, and I plan to stick to this dose. They are supposed to last eight hours, but I get an extra four hours of partial coverage per pill, and like I said the side effects are scaling up on me.

So right now my balance sucks, I'm exhausted, and my shoulder joints scream at me if I try to do anything remotely strenuous with them, you follow?

So far I've had four different cleaners turn up, two of them twice. Three of those are hard and thorough workers. One of those will not wear her mask. I put up with it because I am wearing mine and turn on all the fans and I'm scared if I don't take her, no one will come. (see five skipped cleaning appointments in a row).

Cleaning is a hard fucking job and they are underpaid, get no benefits, no set hours, and have to pay their own travel costs including for the ferry if they are coming from the reservation and that is a lot of gas. I respect cleaners. I've done it, after all, amoung the many shit jobs I had over the years. I trust them to know what they are doing. This has been the case in three instances. Most of the conversation with those three cleaners has been things like: Where does this go? Where is (whatever) kept? What should i do next? I refuse to micro manage. In my experience, micro managing is dramatically less efficient and just insults the person doing the job. I know I hated it, when I was the person being micro-managed. This works great for Goth Millennial and for the other three cleaners on the other four occasions.

I'm sure you are sensing the big but here.

So the cleaner who came today, turned up the other time she was here high as a kite. I don't mean a little buzzed, which is fairly normal in this town and this state. Weed's been legal here for ages. People with shitty service jobs occasionally come to work a schootch high. It doesn't matter in the grand scheme of things if, say, your barista's a little buzzed. I don't partake myself for a host of reasons, but most of my friends since... I'm going to say 1985, have/do. A little high is no big deal.

Orbiting Pluto without a suit is. She was way out of it girl at a party who's friends have to watch her like a hawk high. She was barely coherent high. She drove here. O.o. She drove home. This terrifies me. after some consultation with my friends including them seeing the mess she made and me acting out vignettes, our best guess is she must have dramatically misjudged an edible. (It had to be vape or edible. I would have smelled smoke. Edible makes the most sense for both the degree of Jesus fuck high and the thinking she was fine when she left home, but waaaay not fine when she got here. Surely she would have cancelled otherwise, right?).

So basically instead of my working away at the aggregate or tumblr queue programming or whatever, it was a lot like baby sitting a toddler who would not shut up, only the toddler would make more sense and the mess would have likely been confined to things in a toddler's reach. I had to go around after she left and actually use the forbidden to me for safety reasons ladder to save a bunch of my cups and glasses from the accident I could see happening the second Squirrel opened a dish cupboard because he had jammed them in their so precariously that the door was the only thing preventing them falling. Goth Millennial came the next day and had to take everything out and restack it. I could live with the fitted sheet being inside out, so we left that for today.

I did not turn her in to the asshole agency because 1. worker solidarity. I never went to work on a substance, but I've worked so, so many shit jobs and the Asshole Agency is terrible. 2. I was pretty sure it was a mistake involving an edible. 3. I was big on giving people another chance when I was teaching. On fuck up shouldn't lat for ever unless that fuck up was malicious or really damaging to other people.

Well, fool me once, shame on you; fool me twice shame on me.

No, she was not noticeably high this time, though I couldn't rule a mild buzz out. She also had a shamefaced and subdued demeanor that clearly told me she knew how badly she'd fucked up last time. She said she'd signed up for me on purpose instead of her other option because I was really nice to her and my apartment was full of interesting things to look at while she cleaned. My apartment is full of interesting things to look at and I suspect she liked me because I was consistently kind to her when she was a mess last time and hadn’t turned her in. She really is sweet and nice and she is clearly trying her best but not remotely the sharpest tool in the shed. Which can be fine. I've known a lot of good workers over the years with significant developmental or accident related challenges and they did fine. She wasn't in that category, but I realized she'd need extra supervision compared to the others. I underestimated how much.

She did walk right up to Tavy and start petting him right away like last time which again confused and alarmed him. Sure, Squirrel and I and a couple of the Millennials can do that because we are his particular friends, but he barely knows her and and she would NOT stop doing that last time no matter how many times I told her he was a biter and apt to maul when he was worked up. I was so proud of him because he did not attack her the first three times, and honestly the forth time, I would have bitten her too in his place.

Tavy was noticeably wary of her. He did want to watch what she was doing, but he remembered her. (By contrast, the other cleaners he'd watch from a distance for a while, and then follow around and in a couple cases, get me to pick him up so he could get a better look. He really took to the GNC person who came once, and kept sniffing their legs). He did let her pet him without biting her, and she was together enough to stop when I told her he was down, and leave him alone for the rest of the two hours when I said he was in a mood to hang out and watch but not interact.

I got her through the linen change okay and last time she was so high she forgot we had a dishwasher after she'd emptied it and it took her most of her shift except the linen change, but the dishes looked and smelled clean, so I set her to that and did not remotely supervise her enough. This I did not discover until evening, but we'll get to that.

Then I set her to sweep and mop, which... Like I've worked a lot of restaurant jobs, often with people in a supported worker with severe intellectual challenges. I've never seen one who'd been doing it for years who couldn't do it correctly. She said she'd been doing this for several years.

Assuming makes an ass out of me, doesn't it?

Oh gods the mess she made! I should have known it was too hard for her when she started prepping for mopping before sweeping. So I told her to sweep first, which she did. I told her to dump the water in the sink, not the tub, which turned out to be very, very lucky. (The tub is the most expensive thing I own. A city program that remodels for elderly and disabled people paid for it. I will never be able to afford to fix or replace it. There are super strict cleaning directions for a reason, because the mechanism is delicate.) I told her to use the liquid all purpose cleaner under the sink. I should have got it out and prepped the bucket myself, but bending hurts and I was exhausted and dizzy and my arm situation was deteriorating. I should have done it anyway, because this is So. Much. Worse.

She used a ton of water. Like way, way to much water in a way that suggested she did not wring the mop and/or she was dumping puddles out of the bucket. It was a terrifying fall risk situation because this was the end of her shift and I really really needed to get ready for bed as soon as she left and forage delivery was late so I had to go drag it in, just as I'd given up and settled into bed. So I'm dizzy with unreliable legs, using both hands and going careful back and forth over this swamp of a floor with a weird gritty, soapy texture. Which is... not what you want in a cleaner for elderly and disabled people. I could fall and end up in the hospital under those conditions. And it;'s not like I could want a couple hours for it to dry. There was no point in washing my feet in the bathroom, so I kept using wipes on them before getting into bed.

Then I woke up to pee and realized just how bad it really was. *head desk* My best guess is she used Ajax, which is stored under a bookshelf in the bathroom, not under the sink. Like a TON of Ajax. The kitchen sink and nearby counter was caked with it and the floor was tacky and gritty and full of muddy footprints. I couldn't leave it like that. I cleaned the sink. I took the other mop with the disability friendly easy to wring it out attachment which had been to complicated for her head and wet mopped it all again, frequently rinsing and wringing it out, until my arms basically gave out and I had to wash up and take a nap.

It's still incredibly dirty. I feel like crying, because I can't feel clean unless my feet are. I've been skating around on damp towels, but though my hip joints are a lot better this evening, I wear out fast and it hurts quite a bit if I do it too much. I hate leaving a terrible mess like this for the millennial, but I simply can't mop any more with these arms. I'd have been so much better off giving her something else to do, but I couldn't think of anything else simple enough for her, and I know from last time she will not leave early no matter how much I tell her she can just clock out at the end of the hour.

At this point I was debating what to do. I had settled on calling Monday and asking them to put her on my no list without giving a reason, because I simply can't go through this again. It's too hard on my body and it's incredibly could seriously injure me dangerous.

Then I went to feed the Empress Livia and discovered something worse.

I'm medically fragile. Amoung so many other things, I have an immune system that is far more interested in own goals than fighting pathogens. I can and will catch anything you expose me too. Anything. I also have a dicey digestive system. Anything I use to prepare food or eat or drink needs to be really fucking clean. We prewash for grease and stuck on food then run them through the washer to make sure the soap and anything else is off. yes, I know this is bad for the environment as it uses extra water, but it’s a serious safety issue for me.

I was very, very clear on directions because I remembered last time. “Wash the dishes and then put the in the dishwasher. The dishes in there are dirty, so don’t put them away. I will run the washer after you leave.” Did she do that? No. Were the dishes cleaned and dried, which would be reasonably acceptable as an alternative? No. They were jammed in with the clean dishes, soaking wet and covered in soap bubbles six or seven hours after she left. We'll have to go through all the pans tomorrow. I pulled the pans and dishes I remembered were in the sink yesterday. I have no way of guessing with the glasses and flatware and I don't know which things Squirrel put in there.

I am exhausted and I hurt and I've been pushed way past the limit of what my body can handle in a day and I can't trust my dishes or the glass I'm drinking out of and I can't get the dirty Ajax grit off my feet. I'm going to go take a bath, but my feet will be dirty again the second I touch the floor.

She's another poor person. I feel like a class traitor just putting her on my no list, but she could theoretically kill an elderly person with her mopping, and I can't decide if I should say something, because anything I do will be a terrible option.

This person literally uncleaned my apartment. I just....

Look, I know it’s a free service, but this is so very much worse than when they don’t send anyone.

#WTF?!?#Asshole Agency

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