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concreteburialplot · 4 months

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VIRALITY // 11

11 - Peak Fashion

pairing: noah sebastian x fem!oc [vallie] 👀

masterlist: here | crossposted: ao3 | word count: 5k

warnings: angsty? but cute?, jealous nicholas, sassy but goofy noah, something revealed, very short time skips, 18+ MDNI

summary: vallie abruptly wakes to a million texts to meet for a last minute music video. upon arriving she discovers that the band is not at all prepared which sets her and noah on a mission.

Reminder: This contains the very mild crossover with Christian 'Kras' Anthony from Chase Atlantic ...... and introduces another extremely mild crossover 🫣 they are both merely for side character/reference purposes. Nothing huge, don’t worry lol just for fun

Disclaimer - This story is semi-AU since it does not follow actual timelines or events. The band is still fairly small & does things entirely on their own with no other support.

don't like it don't read it. don’t be mean for no reason & let others enjoy things thnx :)

VALLIE

Sunlight warms my eyelids and gently lulls me awake. My eyes shoot open at the realization that I have once again fallen asleep somewhere that isn’t my home – well my pseudo-home anyway. It seems that anywhere else feels homier than my showroom-esque Airbnb.

This time I don’t wake up in a panic, the smell of Christian’s woodsy cologne reassures me that I’m somewhere safe. The last time stamp I saw on my phone last night was 4:30 am. We had spent the whole night catching up, watching our favorite comfort shows, and binging all his favorite American snacks that he can’t get in Australia.

I reach over to the nightstand to grab my phone. A groan escapes me when I see that the time reads 8:47 am. My brows curve up at the ridiculous amount of notifications that fill my screen. While my job doesn’t really have “days off”, I had no specific plans or meetings booked for the day. So, it’s unexpected.

Most of them were from Bryan, the Omens’ photographer that I met at the warehouse with Noah. The messages flood my screen with missed calls and texts.

Bryan: Warehouse. 8 am.

Bryan: Hello? Are you awake?

Bryan: Music video. Today.

Bryan: I think you should be there.

Bryan: Hey!!! Music video !! Today !! 8 am !!

Bryan: Dude

Bryan: We’re starting. Show up whenever, if you want.

Fuck.

Kras continues to snooze next to me and I know that not even a plane crash could wake him up. So, I press a quick peck on his cheek before I roll out of bed and quickly begin gathering my belongings.

I’m rushing because well… Bryan seems like the only Omen who wants to cooperate or include me in any actual band activities. So, I have to be here. And I’m already an hour late.

I leave a small note on Christian’s dining table, saying how nice it was to see him, thanking him for the pep talk, and that I’ll see him and the rest of his band in a zoom meeting next Monday morning.

I’m still not sure if saying yes to his job offer was the right choice. I’m already stretched thin enough between my main client and now Omens, adding Chase might be more than I can handle. While my main client’s fanbase is much more… intensive, Chase Atlantic is still larger than both of them. And that swirls a terrifying pit of anxiety in my stomach because I’m not quite sure I’m equipped with enough experience to handle it all.

Gravel cracks beneath my tires as I pull up to the warehouse. I gather my bed head hair into the closest thing to a bun I can get it and try to rub off the slept in mascara smudged under my eyes.

My engine isn’t fully off for half a second before I’m out and locking my door.

I smooth out the exact same outfit I wore to Christian’s yesterday since I didn’t have time to stop home. Usually, I would never show up to a work event in sweatpants, a cropped cami, sneakers, and a flannel, but here we are. It’s not like the band is particularly formal anyway.

I see Folio and Jolly first, who both give me strange looks, like they’re surprised I’m here. Then, Noah and Nicholas once I get to the entrance. They seem equally as shocked too.

“What are you doing here?” Noah asks, lined with his usual snarky tone, seeming almost offended by my presence.

“I invited her.” Bryan speaks up from the background, adjusting the camera around his neck. “And you’re about an hour late by the way.”

Regardless of his criticism, he gives me a smile and a side hug – which surprises me.

Aside from Nicholas – for…obvious reasons – Bryan is the one who meets me with the most warmth out of the five of them.

I offer a closed lipped smile and a small awkward wave to the band. I wasn’t prepared to accidentally crash a music video shoot.

“Nice outfit, you just get out of bed?” Noah quips.

I roll my sleep-deprived eyes, “Nice to see you too, Noah.”

The rest of the band disperses into whatever they were doing before I arrived.

Nick walks up to me and I can tell he’s trying his best to act casual.

“Hey.” He says simply but quietly between us.

“Hey.” I match his somewhat awkward tone.

My gaze reluctantly meets his and I immediately regret it. His hair is pulled up into a fluffy ponytail with his hair flat against his head and he looks so good.

This was going to be more difficult than I thought.

“Val?” He asks trying to get my attention.

“Huh?” I shake my head from the fuzz sitting in my brain.

“Oh, I just said it’s nice to see you.” He says demurely. “I’m glad you’re here.”

I take note of the dullness of his normally bright eyes, and the dark bags beneath them. It makes me wonder if he got as little sleep as I did.

The energy of this whole ordeal is so… odd. It makes me feel as though I’m once again missing parts of a puzzle that I’m not aware of.

His gives me a once over and lingers a bit on my flannel.

“Oh! Right!” I set my bag down on a nearby table before slipping the flannel off my arms, giving it a lazy fold, and offering it over to him. “Here have it back.”

He instinctively takes the folded garment, looking at it like I just handed him the wrong Chipotle order. His brows furrow, initially in confusion then into something much different.

Before he responds it hits me.

I fucked up.

Fuck

“This isn’t mine.” He states in a slighted tone.

“Oh- Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t get much sleep last night–“ I immediately realize that probably wasn’t the best thing to follow that up with. “I just need a coffee.”

“Right.” He lands the flannel back in my hands. He goes to pass me and stops as he’s grazing my shoulder. “And who’s ever it is, has shitty taste in cologne.”

My eyes widen.

Did I just put Kras’ proposed scheme into action by accident?

It’s fine.

It’s perfectly fine.

I’m fine.

I discreetly shake out the tips of my fingers and glance up to finally take in my surroundings fully. The floor is covered in a massive tarp, covered in… dirt?

I steal the phone from my tote pocket and carefully walk over to where Bryan is messing with some equipment. I shuffle right up next to him and whisper, “What…exactly is happening here?”

“I don’t know. Noah just woke us all up at the ass crack of dawn and said we needed to do this today.” Bryan shrugs, not stopping his actions for me, and continues walking carrying a large umbrella light.

“…and you all just went along with it?”

“Listen. I just work here man.” He sets down the heavy light and sighs dramatically.

I can’t help but chuckle at his verbiage.

“Okay… and why did you have to drag me into this?”

“Well, you have a job to do, don’t you?” He questions as if he doesn’t know the answer.

“I mean y-“ I begin but he cuts me off.

“Exactly.” He walks back over to a pile of equipment on a plastic table, and I follow him around like a puppy while he talks. “And you want them to like you, yes?”

“Well, I mean,” My eyes glance over at Nicholas who’s sat on a stool tuning a teal bass. The memories of our bodies entwined graze over my tongue and his working fingers sends a tingle between my legs.

Well, one of them likes me.

Is my first reflex to say.

But I’m not even sure if that’s true, especially not now. I should know better than to trust band boys anyway. I manage them, I’ve been around them since the start of my career. I’ve been best friends with Kras for nearly a decade. I’ve seen what band men do. How they treat the women they use to get off, even the ones they love.

“Look. They need you.” He says, his tone more serious than before and leans against the wall beside him with crossed arms. “Whether they believe it or not, they need you. You and I both know that. If Noah wants to be an arrogant, stubborn asshole, then let him. But don’t give up on them. They just need time.” His eyes drift to the four of them messing around with their instruments. “You’re stuck with them one way or another. And they’re not a bad bunch to be stuck with. Trust me.” He gives me a half smile before nudging my arm. “Loosen up a little, you might find that you like ‘em.”

Bryan pushes himself off the wall going to find some other task and I’m left with this peptalk I wasn’t expecting, especially from him.

I take the time to watch them, really watch them. Noah is well … Noah, so there’s some grumpy tension that follows him – but the rest of them, even while grumpy and irritated, flow together effortlessly.

Noah ripped everyone from their sleep and yet, they’re still all here. Sure, you could write that off as good work ethic, but I think it’s more than that. As unpredictable as he is, they let Noah lead them. At least for the most part.

They all showed up for him today and the whole time I’ve known them.

‘This band is all he has.’ Nicholas’ words echo in my ears from that rainy night in his car.

Maybe they all know that, and maybe they all honor it.

They all love him enough to show up and keep showing up.

Christian is right. I can’t let my feelings cloud this. If not for me, then for them.

As I clear from my dissociation, I realize I must’ve hyper fixated on their bustling about because the only thing I see now is their attire… or the lack thereof.

“Wait, wait, wait.” I cautiously step around the piles of dirt on a brown tarp to reach Noah. “Is this the whole outfit? This is what you’re wearing for the video?”

Noah sighs in exasperation and drops the corner of tarp he’s holding to face me. “Yes? Do you have a problem with it?”

“Problem with it? It is the problem.” I give him a once over, just black jeans and plain grey shirt with a faded CocaCola logo on it. I reach to his sides and give the seems a small tug to pull the logo taught against his thin chest. “You see that? What does that look like to you?”

Noah raises a snarky brow at me, “A Coke logo?”

“Wrong. That-” I drop the edges of his shirt and stab his sternum with my finger. “That is unpaid brand advertising.”

I can tell he immediately wants to roll his eyes but doesn’t when he realizes I’m right.

The rest of the boys wear similar outfits, jeans, t-shirts, hoodies.

“Okay, well this is all we brought last minute, and the house is like an hour away, I’m not driving back there.”

There’s no way I’m letting them shoot an entire video in dirt with such casual outfits. I tug at my lip and tap my fingertips on my arm in thought.

As if a lightbulb appears above my head, a possible solution crosses my mind.

“I think I saw a thrift shop in that strip where the bar is.” I shrug, “I can try to find something there. But I can’t just let you play around in dirt like this.”

Noah raises his brows and crosses his tattooed arms across his chest, “Well I’m sure as fuck not letting you pick out outfits for us.”

I walk over to my bag, picking up easily and walking towards the warehouse opening. “Then you better hurry up and get in my car.”

Noah and I had been looking through racks of dusty clothes for about 10 minutes without speaking to each other. I knew a thrift shop was somewhat of a risky choice, but after not seeing anything worth shit for a bit had me nervous.

I’m not sure why I’m nervous – but I shouldn’t be making risky bold decisions with them.

Across the racks I catch Noah picking up a thick peacoat. At first glance, I find it absolutely repulsive, but for a music video? It could be exactly what we need. At least it’d be better than a Coca-Cola shirt. For the vibe I think he’s going for, it might be perfect.

He lifts up the hanger and flips it around, his brows knitting intently at it. He likes it.

I haven’t known him that long, but he’s pretty transparent, no matter how mysterious he thinks he is.

I quickly divert my eyes back down when he goes to return the coat to its place on the rack. I know that if I say I like it, he’ll immediately be against it, so I keep my mouth shut.

“So, what kinda vibe are you going for?” I ask casually.

He glares over at me, “What do you care? Changing our clothes was your idea remember?”

“Whoa.” I put my hands up in defense. “I’m just trying to help.”

“Well, I’m sure you wanna put us in the same preppy clothes you put your other big mysterious client in. Which I’m still convinced is Harry Styles by the way.”

I roll my eyes knowing which “client” he’s referring to since I haven’t mentioned that I took on a third one yet. He means the first one, the one that landed me here in the first place, my ‘big success’. At least that’s what they kept telling me when sitting in meeting after meeting getting pitched different ‘next big artists’. And somehow, I got stuck with Noah & friends™️.

“No, it’s not Harry and I don’t put them in preppy clothes.” I reply absentmindedly sifting through hangers.

“Them?” He picks up on my slip immediately and my eyes widen slightly. “It’s a band?”

I clear my throat and shake my head. “No – no that’s not what I–“

“It is, isn’t it?” His brows lower at me. “It better not be a conflict of interest, that would be a breach of contract and I-“

“Relax. I’m not stupid, I wouldn’t have signed contract if it was a conflict of interest.” I glare over at him with annoyed, tired eyes.

I sigh then allow my tense shoulders to roll back. “Yes. It’s a band. But they aren’t a heavy band they’re ehm…. more classic rock, hippie-ish?” I shake my head. “And trust me, I would NOT put you or the rest of you in any of their clothes.”

I press my lips together trying to stifle a giggle that threatens to escape at the thought of Noah in a glitzy jumpsuit.

“What’s so funny?” He furrows his brows at me in offense. “You don’t think I could pull off some hippie clothes?” He asks seriously, but I can tell he doesn’t believe it either, he’s just trying to be difficult.

Then it occurs to me that this reverse-psychology defiant behavior may work to my advantage.

“No, actually. I don’t think you could.” I shrug, sliding some clothes over. “Just like I don’t think you could pull off that hideous peacoat.”

His brows rise higher than I’ve ever seen them. “Oh really? Maybe that’ll be the one I choose then.”

Checkmate.

I ignore it to not put too much emphasis on it. “You never told me what’s the vibe you want.”

“Hm.” He pauses, maybe he doesn’t even know. “I’m not sure. Cult-y? Business-y? Underground elite secret society-y?”

“Wow.” I say with wide, surprised eyes and exaggerating my mouth around the word. “That’s… specific. And you planned to achieve that with graphic tees?”

“Shut up.”

“Right.”

“Would I know your other band?” He inquires, the curiosity obviously eating at him.

“Shut up.”

“Right.”

We continue to mind our own business in our individual searches while early 2000’s pop plays through the small, dingy shop.

Out of the corner of my eye, I catch Noah lifting up an obviously homemade PitBull t-shirt.

I can’t help but let out a loud laugh.

He snaps his head over at me with a goofy grin, “What you don’t think Mr. Worldwide is peak fashion?”

I shake my head laughing, “No, I definitely wouldn’t say he is.”

“I think this might be the most badass piece of clothing I’ve ever seen.” He seems half serious and half trying to hold back a cackle.

“It’s a… choice. But you know what? It might be perfect for you.”

He feigns offense, “Why because you think I’m so badass?”

A laugh erupts from me. “Yeah. Sure.”

“Well, I’m getting it. I might wear it in the video.” He throws the white shirt into his cart.

“Great.” I reply sarcastically.

The search seemed to be going a bit better the further we dig. I found a couple pieces that might work for the rest of the band to fit into Noah’s vaguely hyper-specific theme. He’s done the same, just not as successfully.

Across the aisle I notice his hands grasping the sides of a hideous white puffy jacket with patches of sherpa all over it and an oversized hood. The nylon material rasps as he rubs it between his inked fingertips. My brows curve at how he looks at it like it’s some lost treasure.

He pauses before turning to me, lifting it up to showcase its entirety.

“What do you think about this?” He asks genuinely, which throws me off. It sounds so authentic, so real, and not hidden behind any sort of sassy, crude walls, or ulterior motives. I don’t know if he’s ever truly talked to me like that before, especially not sober.

I’m still cautious since he’s fooled me before, so I stay neutral by lifting my shoulders to a shrug. “I don’t know. Why don’t you try it on?”

He eagerly scoots past his cart that takes up the entire aisle and walks to the mirror. The thick zipper hisses at how quickly he undoes it, like he’s been waiting his whole life for this moment.

I watch him in some form of awe, maybe it’s more curiosity of his behavior. The more I get to know him, the stranger he seems.

He slips his skinny arms through the sleeves, and it fits him loosely but just right, like it’s made for him – though that doesn’t detract from how it still looks a little ridiculous, just less so now that it’s on him.

He turns back to me and spreads out his arms like a child showing off a Halloween costume.

“Well?” He questions.

“I mean the jacket is still pretty silly.” I chuckle. “But it looks nice on you.” I compliment honestly.

A toothy grin spreads across his mouth and turns back to the mirror, “Yeah, I think so too.”

Quiet falls between us again and we move on to different sections. I get so focused on rifling through the clothes that I realize I’ve lost track of Noah. I scan the small store and can’t spot him.

“Noah?” I call and as if right on cue, I feel something dropped around my head followed by a scurrying Noah.

“What the hell?” I reach up and catch the edges of the large hat pulling it off and finding that he’s dropped a massive sombrero on my head. “Hey!”

He chuckles and pulls his shoulders to a shrug, “Might be perfect for you.” He mocks my words from before about the Pitbull shirt.

“Ha-ha very funny.” I roll my eyes playfully. “I’ll get you back.”

“Bring it on.”

What follows is a series of us trying to find the most ridiculous shit to throw on or at each other.

First, I got an ugly, dusty, grandma shawl that I threw on Noah’s shoulders as best as I could before quickly walking in the other direction.

Then, when I wasn’t paying attention and with great stealth, he was able to drop a yellowing Disney rain poncho over my body.

Now, he’s stood in front of a full-length mirror holding up various different pieces of black clothing. In my stroll through the hat section, I found a leopard print fedora perfect for his big head. I sneak up behind him, making sure not to get in frame of the mirror. I reach up on my tip toes to somewhat reach his head, tossing the hat up to bridge the rest, hoping that it would land.

It does land, crooked atop his head.

I cover my mouth to hide a chuckle before backing away slowly. Before I can make my escape, he snaps his head over in my direction, jostling the hat to fly off his head. In a swift move, he catches it with fumbling hands.

“Hey that’s not fair! You’re tiny and fast!” He plops the leopard fedora back on his head and anchors a fist at each hip playfully.

The goofy sight of it all makes me double over nearly cackling. “It’s not my fault you’re big and clunky!”

He pulls the flimsy hat off his head, squishing it thin between his fingers pointing at me. “You better watch your back, Thornhill.”

“Ooh, you’re so scary, Sebastian.” I tease with raised hands feigning fear.

“You think you’re so funny huh?” He speaks directly at me probably trying to distract me, but I catch him snatching another random hat off the rack while he slowly makes his way towards me.

My eyes glance at down at his actions and I make a run for it. I don’t know what I expected but, he chases me around the thrift shop like we’re little kids in a toy store. I stealthily weave through metal racks full of musty clothes trying to lose him, giggles pouring from both our mouths.

I ignore the judging looks from the employees and the few patrons shopping around us. It’s a blessing that I can’t hear the murmuring around us. My ears are full of only my own heartbeat and the sound of his playful and competitive laughter.

It’s then that I realize I hadn’t fully heard him laugh before, not sober anyway, and it’s so… endearing. It’s one of those laughs that’s contagious and only makes you laugh harder. Which isn’t something I expected from him. None of this is really what I expected.

He finally corners me in the scarf section. I spin around in the tiny space between us and within that split second he’s snatched a bizarrely colored thin scarf and throws it around my neck like a towel, keeping hold of each end.

Just as fast, I grasp a similar scarf and match his actions, throwing the scarf up around his neck. With the speed and rush of the motion, I accidentally tugged him closer and lower to me.

My eyes flutter up and the edges of his laughing grin shorten when his eyes meet mine. Unexpectedly, my breath hitches in my throat. I never noticed just how chocolate-y brown his eyes were until now. Normally his eyes are so serious or angry or… drunk, but right now, they’re wide and warm and just as confused as mine. His eyes shift side to side seemingly searching mine for something I’m not quite sure of.

Being this close to him really emphasizes just how tall he is, the top of my head barely meets his shoulders and for some reason, that realization makes my heart thump harder against my ribcage.

I’m frozen where I stand, I should pull away, but I can’t. I shouldn’t enjoy the butterflies that run rampant in my tummy. It’s just Noah after all. The asshole that somehow always ends up drunk on the floor. The one that tells me how to do my job and how not to manage him. The one that told Nick that I’m a ‘stuck-up corporate bitch’.

But, that’s the same Noah that’s chasing me around this store like we’re playing tag on a playground.

My tummy twists and my breath sharply lodges itself in my throat when I catch his eyes dart to my lips – once.

Twice.

He moves closer, just marginally, and then again – eyes, lips.

I mimic his actions, my eyes flicker from his brown eyes to light pink lips.

Then he’s even closer – so close I can feel his exhaled breath brush past my nose.

Again.

Eyes, lips.

I feel his knuckles just graze my shirt where he’s still holding the scarf at either end and it sends electricity down to my fingertips.

Then, a strand of his long brown hair falls from behind his ear, and it seems to snap him from our daze. He lets out an awkward chuckle, steps back and slides the scarf off my neck by one end.

“We should probably wrap up here… I’m sure the guys are sick of waiting for us.” He scratches the back of his neck and diverts his eyes from me.

It seems like the right thing to do, but for some reason it leaves me a little disappointed.

Disappointed in what exactly?

What the fuck just happened?

I pull the scarf off of him in the same manner and hang it back up on its hook. “Yeah, that’s probably a good idea.”

Checking out is hushed and awkward as we stand next to each other in front of the workers that had to watch us nearly destroy the store.

We walk out silently until I notice that he’s walking out with the leopard print fedora proudly plopped on his head.

“You really bought that stupid hat?” I chuckle calling after him carrying 2 heavy, giant bags full of clothes.

“Yeah duh-“ He begins looking back but trips over his feet across the exit door frame.

I bring a plastic bag-occupied hand up to cover my mouth to hide a giggle.

“Shut up.” He directs me with a pointed hand even though I hadn’t said anything.

“Has anyone ever told you that you’re kinda goofy?” I laugh, shaking my head and clicking my key fob to unlock the car.

“Goofy?” He gasps as if he’s offended. “Valerie this is peak fashion.”

I chuckle and roll my eyes, “Get in the fucking car, will you?”

He laughs and matches my actions of throwing the heavy bags in the backseat. He slides in the passenger of my blue Mercedes rental and the clunky weight of his lanky body shakes the small car. He stuffs his legs into the tiny, allotted space for them. I would make a comment about how large he is, but I’m not in the business of boosting men’s egos.

I press the push-to-start and begin navigating my way out of the parking lot. It takes a bit for my phone to connect and begin playing music, but when it does it fills the car with a familiar tune.

Noah reaches over and spins the dial to turn up the music. It doesn’t fully register in my mind what song it is until Noah speaks up.

“Is this the hippie rock band you’re representing?” He asks, a bit of sharpness to his voice.

“I-I well, no, I just-“ I’m caught off guard and stutter. I’m new to handling more than one client and having them not know about each other seemed like the best course of action. But I particularly didn’t want Noah to know since I knew he’d compare what I do with others with what I do with them.

“It is, isn’t it?” He snaps. “You manage Greta Van Fleet?”

“I… well,” I pause then sigh out of pure exhaustion. “Yes. I manage them.” I say flatly, somewhat annoyed. “I don’t really think that’s any of your business though.”

He’s silent for a moment, seemingly just taking in the song – Lover, Leaver.

“You’re right. They’re nothing like us.” He announces simply. “The voice on that singer is insane though.”

I can’t stop my brows from furrowing, and from one abruptly propping up.

He’s not upset.

He’s not upset?

“Yeah… I know.” I reply cautiously, glancing over at him to decipher the unbothered look on his face.

“Well, don’t look so surprised, they’re good. I can appreciate good music, can’t I?” He lets a few moments pass. “I don’t know what I was expecting, but it wasn’t this. They sound so familiar…” He trails off in thought.

“I know, you were expecting Harry Styles.” I joke. “But it’s not, so you can chill.” I tap my fingertips across the leather steering wheel.

“I knew it wasn’t Harry.” He shifts in his seat, crossing his arms across his skinny waist with his hands draping over his sides. He rests his head on the door looking out the window. “If it was, you wouldn’t have taken us.”

“I bet you wish it was Harry Styles then huh?” I say as a somewhat half joke and glance over at him while mindlessly tapping my fingertips on the steering wheel. He stays silent, just watching the trees go by. I can’t tell if the silence is intentional or if he’s just zoned out.

Some time passes before he returns to the conversation.

“Well, I don’t care if you represent them. Just know that I’m not dressing up like some wizard man like your other singer.” He warns firmly with a playful pointed finger.

“I wouldn’t dream of it, Sebastian.”

tag list; @ladyveronikawrites @kingdomof-omens @persuasivus @strawberryruffilo @thebadchic @the-hell-i-overcame @sinkingteethinwhitenoise @cncohshit @dominuslunae [comment if you'd like to be tagged?]

A/N: Thank you if you've made all the way to chp 11! lol thank you for reading anything i write. thank you so much for every like, reblog, ask, or comment. It means the world to me truly. Thank you.

i love hearing your thoughts so feel free to share! (i'm really bad at responding to comments/asks but i still love them 🥺)

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happyreid187 · 3 years

Text

Flying high - Spencer Reid x fem!reader

Word count: 1K

warning/ an: none? Spencer x reader fluff featuring light flirting/ friend love from Emily. I’m making this she/ her pronouns just because Spence is jealous because of Emily x reader and Emily is a lesbian (fight me) so I went with bi fem energy. Big season 3 energy imo but not specified. Includes a line from an ATL song because I’m forever emo (spot it)

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“I - that’s my - what are you doing?” Spencer was immediately flustered. He always sat next to you on the plane. It was routine. It had been for months. What was Emily doing in his seat?

“What do you mean? I’m just sitting next to my friend” she replied innocently.

“Well, actually,” Spencer gulped. “That’s my spot.” he said matter of factly, gesturing from the seat to himself.

“You don’t have exclusive rights to sit next to y/n. What if I want to nestle into her arms and get some good sleep? The rest of us like having our hair played with too.” She sang the last part a bit mockingly.

So she not only wanted to steal his seat, but his post case affection too? He felt like she was doing this just to upset him, but then again, you are the best plane buddy, and the most affectionate person on the team by far. It made sense that Emily, arguably your best friend, would want some closeness after a tough case. You being loving was in no way exclusive, and he had no right to try to keep it for himself. But there was something about the way she emphasized a desire to be physically close to you that rubbed him the wrong way. It felt like she was doing this on purpose to drive him insane, to embarrass him in front of the whole team. In front of you. He admitted that was less likely, but he still felt attacked. Regardless of Emily’s motive, jealousy welled in his chest, and he started to get antsy.

“Emily,” his voice rising in pitch now. “I don’t want to sit next to anyone else. I can’t sleep with, uh - I mean next to - anyone else. Oxytocin... ” he trailed off, having lost his train of thought, looking mortified. A blush rose in his cheeks, more so at the admission itself than the stumbling of words - at the shame of you knowing even a fraction of how much he needed you.

“Em, give Spencer his spot! You can crash at my place another time. He does have dibs.” you replied with a sweet smile. Spencer was intensely grateful that you came to his defense, feeling himself calm instantly, the discomfort in his chest waning.

“I never heard him call any dibs.” Emily retorted.

“I have a continuous dibs, everyone knows that!” he spat, the rage back as quickly as it had dissipated.

“Because it’s your spot?” Emily deadpanned.

“Because it’s my spot.” he replied with a shrug.

“Why is it your spot?” she teased.

Hotch started, “Emily, can you just keep the peace, he clearly can’t -”

Spence interrupted, ignoring Hotch entirely, “What do you mean? Why would you even ask me that? I always sit next to her!”

The puckish woman to your left paid no attention to Hotch, staring at her with his mouth pressed in a firm line, her amusement increasing with the annoyance now showing on your face.

“I honestly wasn’t trying to mess with you at first but now I have to ask. Whyyy do you always sit next to her?” she sat expectantly, while Spence stammered.

“Because... I - well, it’s just that... she’s my ... person!” The plane grew quiet, as the annoyance on your face slipped into a broad smile and Spencer buried his face in his hands.

“Or I mean, I don’t know. It’s nice to be close to her after a case. We all know she’s cozy. Leave me alone.” he brought his eyes up to Derek as he said it, predicting the ~ooooh~ just as it started.

“You need to move.” he demanded, eyes narrowed at Emily once again. She put up her hands in mock surrender, moving from the seat so he could collapse next to you, defeated.

“Oooh, pretty boy...” Derek started, but you shot him down immediately.

“Hey! Enough.” you pointed at him with a threatening glare “Knock it off.” You weren’t going to have the team mock Spencer for wanting to be close to you, for saying everything you wanted to hear. Even if it was platonic, which you didn’t want it to be, him valuing you, and verbalizing that value made you happy enough to melt away the post case angst. But your happiness was dampened by Spencer’s obvious embarrassment.

“Hey,” you whispered. “It’s your spot! This is our thing. I can’t sleep at all without you pressed up against me.” you mumbled before you could think better of it, like that wasn’t the most romantic thing you had said in your entire existence. He didn’t say anything - just moved in close. Usually his proximity on the plane just meant a head on your shoulder, but he now wrapped his arms around you and laid his head more on your chest than your shoulder, clinging close and snuggling in. One hand reflexively went to his hair, the other to his back where you rubbed small circles. Soothing him soothed you, and you felt yourself growing sleepy. You assumed he had drifted off to sleep along with the rest of the team, so the surprise of his soft voice made you jump.

“You’re the only person I like to have touch me.” he muttered quietly, his voice crackling. You just smiled in reply and pulled him closer. You already knew that, it was well established. He hated touch, you loved it, and he was mysteriously comfortable with it from you. You had never really questioned it - it took him long enough to warm up. You figured you just did something right with your patient approach. If anyone could get the man to appreciate physical touch, it would be you - it didn’t mean anything.

He looked up at you with his hazel eyes wide. Suddenly, you could feel the nervousness radiating from him. “Have you ever wondered why that is?”

“Because I’m cozy?” you questioned.

He let out a soft laugh at that. “You are, but that’s not the only reason. I mean I guess that’s one of the reasons for the reason, but...” he took a breath in. “The reason is that I like you.”

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moonbaby26 · 3 years

Text

Title: Diamond in the Rough

Pairing: Peter Maximoff x Reader

Summary: Continuation from last chapter. You and the others get some more down time in your last day and night on the ship together. Reader talks about some sensitive things with Peter, culminating in more bonding and fluff at the end.

Warnings: Some cursing, mentions of sex and arousal. Nothing explicit though.

Chapters: Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

Taglist: @drikawinchester , @n0obmaster69 , @alexloveskili , @what-a-silver-lining , @bluesprings18 , @weakmoony-stuff , @slytherinsi-mp , @wintwrsoldiwr , @tommy-braccoli , @amourtentiaa , @cringingmemeries , @bi-panicatthe-disco , @himbos-are-my-lifeblood , @simp4mcuwomen

Peter Maximoff x Reader Masterlist

—————————

“So you really weren’t going to tell me that you just said ‘screw it, peace out, guys!’, and pulled the sacrifice card to throw yourself out of a plane?”

Peter’s voice carried through the barracks as he looked at you like you were the crazy one for once.

“Well...it was in the middle of crashing at the time.” You countered, much quieter by comparison and looking to Jean or Kurt for any help here. Some of you were sitting on the floor, others on the beds, roughly in a circle as you talked.

But Kurt only piped up to make it worse. “Yes, I did not like that at all. Next time we must find another way. I thought too that you’d chosen to go down with the plane so we could escape, (Y/N).”

“But you can fly right? None of us could fly.” Scott butted in a bit unexpectedly though, on your side of the argument no less.

“(Y/N) can levitate like me.” Jean corrected. “The flying is newer though, not yet perfected.” She smiled at you then in a way that told you she wasn’t about to let you back out of getting credit for that risk taken in Egypt. “You still hit the ground, hard.” She added. “I went back in your mind to make sure you’d made it after we teleported.”

The others all looked at you, and you tried not to lose your nerve. “My energy field was still up though when I hit. That’s the important part...”

“I mean I could jump off a building with a helmet on, I’m pretty sure it still wouldn’t work out for my head.” Peter retorted, though with a very self aware look before he finished. “And no, that’s not what’s wrong with me.”

Scott actually laughed at that, which surprised both you and Peter at least. Maybe he was different when alone with Jean, but in front of the group he’d stayed fairly no nonsense since Egypt. Though who could blame him for being a bit uptight after all he’d been through recently.

“We did all get pretty wrecked.” Peter admitted after a moment though. “Thanks for the save, Jean. Up top.” He held his hand up in front of her to signal for a high five.

She obliged, but a bit half heartedly. “I had the Professor in my head though, egging me on. He helped me unlock that. But I still couldn’t have done anything if you all hadn’t held that guy in place for that long for me. He just would have escaped.”

“I wonder what happened to the woman?” Kurt considered. “Do you think she learned her lesson too?”

“I doubt it,” Ororo answered then. “We called her Psylocke. But she just wanted to be more powerful. I don’t think she’d care now about who we hurt.” She looked at all of you at that. “I am sorry...if I hadn’t said well enough before. I thought he wanted to make the world better for us, but he didn’t. He really did just want to control everyone, human and mutant alike. I was wrong.”

Scott shrugged. “You figured it out by the time it really mattered.”

“And he probably just would have tried to kill you if you’d shown disloyalty any sooner than that,” You agreed.

“Can’t stay mad at anybody with a sick mohawk like that anyway.” Peter commented too, clearly admiring her hair.

Ororo chuckled. “If I’d known other mutants like you all before, things likely would have been a lot different.”

“Well you know us now.” Jean offered.

“Yes, I’m new here too,” Kurt added. “There’s a lot to learn. I’m glad Raven found me as well to bring me to the school. I never had mutant friends either in the circus.”

“Woah, wait. You were in a circus? Like the whole bit? Elephants and clowns and stuff?” Peter turned his head to look at him, curiosity easily peaked.

“Ja.” Kurt replied.

As those two went off into a separate conversation about whether or not there’d been bearded ladies, strong men, and the like in the Bavarian circus, you just looked back to Jean.

“We’ll definitely have a lot to catch up on when we get home. You think Jubilee is going to be mad that she missed all the action?” You asked, only half joking.

“Oh man,” Jean conceded. “She’ll be all over us wanting details.”

But her next words surprised you a little as her voice so easily transitioned just into your mind afterward for privacy, her lips no longer moving.

“You know as soon as she finds out you met someone, she’s going to go nuts wanting details about Peter.”

You could only look at her for a moment. It was such a strange thing to consider. This had all happened so fast. But with her bringing up that point, it was the first time you’d really thought about what it would be like to potentially introduce him to other friends of yours back home, to try and communicate what he meant to you already.

Could you call him your boyfriend? Would you say you were dating? He’d already called himself that label, but did that mean you could say it? Would the others even believe it was possible to feel these things for someone you’d only known such a short time? Would they think you were naive, or just caught up in the whirlwind of the moment and that this would all fade?

“Hey, relax. I wasn’t trying to send you into a tailspin.” Jean’s mental voice broke back through that wave of anxious thoughts. “I haven’t known Scott for very long either. If anyone wants to waste energy judging us, I would say that’s their problem.”

“Yeah,” You just answered then, remembering you still needed to respond in a way that made sense to the last thing she’d actually said out loud, about Jubilee. But you went quiet afterward, letting the others steer the conversation to new things as you all continued just trying to pass the time.

It wasn’t too very long later though when you’d had another visitor to the barracks. You were all a bit surprised to see Moira walk in, noticeably without the Professor and carrying something in her hands.

“Some new brass arrived today, or officials I mean. They wanted to speak to Charles themselves.” She said quickly, obviously realizing by your looks that you were all wondering the same thing of where he was. “But I wanted to come by and take care of this for the ones that needed pictures.”

As she spoke, she raised up the thing in her hands as if that should also be some clear explanation for her purpose here. It still took you a moment honestly to realize it for what it was, accompanied by what she’d said.

“For your licenses and passports that we’re printing.” She clarified anyway before continuing, the polaroid camera in her hands. “You two,” She pointed at you and Peter, and then at Raven. “And you. You already had valid driver’s licenses. We’ll reuse those photos for a new license and passport. Charles wanted everyone to have both, as you’ll still need to travel within the U.S. as well once we’re back. The rest of you I need current photos of.”

The thought of Peter actually taking the time to get a driver’s license seemed pretty absurd when he could travel anywhere much faster on foot, but before you could ask him anything, Hank was speaking up.

“But I already had a license and a passport,” Hank responded in some confusion.

Moira looked a little awkward, but still answered kindly. “But the pictures were of you before. It won’t match how you look right now for us to get back into the country.”

Raven snickered and Hank shot her an unamused look.

“Uh, but I can’t take off my glasses. You want me to take it with my eyes closed?” Scott asked dryly, though it was a legitimate question.

Belatedly you realized this also meant he’d been completely prepared to drive one of the Professor’s cars illegally then, before you’d asserted yourself to be the one to drive you all to the mall that day. This was a mental note you’d have to save for later.

“Glasses on is fine. We’ll note it as a medical exemption.” Moira answered easily, though already looking for a spot to have them stand against. “And this might actually be better to do in the hallway, if you could- Hey!” Her hands were abruptly empty, as she startled, then looking around.

You blinked after the flash that came almost simultaneously. A hand squeezed your shoulder before Peter pulled back away, the stolen camera in his other hand as the photo began to eject from it.

“I thought you couldn’t move like that with your leg,” Moira chided, now realizing what had happened. “And that thing isn’t mine to break, just so we’re clear.”

“You’re like three feet away, I don’t have to run if I can just lean over and grab it.” Peter responded smoothly, pulling the photo out before offering her back the camera. “So what, that thing is CIA issue? If I push the wrong button is it going to laser me or something?”

“No.” She huffed. But didn’t look as if she wished to extend the conversation any further to get drug into this right now. She just motioned for the others to follow her into the hall as she then turned away. “Come on, guys. We’ll try to make this quick.”

Peter didn’t seem to mind either way, just putting his attention back to the photo he was now holding as if it were a prize. “What do you think?” He asked you after a moment, the image becoming more and more visible as the film developed.

You saw yourself there, though surprisingly not a terrible image considering you hadn’t even been prepared. Your expression in the photo was simply neutral, glancing elsewhere even as Peter’s smile was wide and bright, him leaning in with his face almost touching yours in the photograph.

“I’ve taken worse,” you said truthfully, but then looked back to him, amused at his seeming satisfaction with it. You wondered if he was actually planning on keeping the photo, instead of it just being a little joke. Wouldn’t he rather a better one at least?

“What?” He questioned, seeing your expression. He flicked the photo gently. “It proves you’re real if anyone asks later.”

“Why would you have to prove...” But you ended up just smiling, and gave up before you even really started, seeing how happy he still looked. “If you want a picture together, I’m sure she’d let us take another if we asked. You know, if we asked nicely, and didn’t just steal her camera this time.”

“I like this one.” He insisted though, holding onto it regardless. “It really looks like you.”

“Um...wouldn’t I always look like me?” You asked quizzically.

“It’s real,” He tried to explain. “Natural? If we took another you’d just smile on purpose.”

You still didn’t fully understand. He was smiling in the picture after all. But to his point maybe, he did look almost giddy in the photo. Not something you would be able to replicate on command. “Okay.” You said, fine either way. “If you like that best.”

“There is something I think I’m going to ask Moira anyway though when she comes back,” He admitted.

It wasn’t very long either until you were able to find out what that was.

When the others did start to file back in after taking their pictures in the hallway, Moira had just leaned in the doorway briefly to thank them. “We’ll have these made up in time for tomorrow for your travel documents, thank you.”

She was already turning to leave again before Peter stopped her.

He cocked his head, piping up. “Hey, can I ask you something?”

She did pause, but her look back at him was slightly wary. Likely not knowing if this would be more humor or not. “Yes?”

He didn’t mess around though this time, just getting to the point outright. “Do you think you could send somebody to my Mom’s house? You know, just to say everything’s cool and I’ll be home soon? She’s probably losing her mind right now.”

Moira’s expression changed fully at that, empathy going to the forefront. “Of course. Yes. What’s her name? Her address?”

That mood faded just as quickly though as he raised his eyebrows, teasing. “Well shouldn’t the CIA know that?”

She sighed. Staring at him as the annoyed look returned.

“You’re so serious,” Peter smirked. “Magda Maximoff, suburbs outside D.C.” He rattled off a street address afterward, but still continued, “We’re in the phonebook anyway. Prof.’s been there too, he’d know.”

“We’ll look it up.” She agreed. “See you guys later.”

With that she was gone. The rest of you settled back, just sitting and talking again. And you’d gone off with Peter down by your beds after a while. Just the two of you again.

You’d realized obviously before now by their interactions that the Professor had met Peter at some point previous to his coming to the mansion the other day. But like so many things, in the rush of everything, you hadn’t learned much more.

“So Xavier’s been to your house. Was he trying to recruit you for the school?” You asked, honestly just curious. Though it was a little disappointing to consider you may have had a chance to meet Peter much sooner if he’d accepted any kind of invitation like that then.

You had been sitting on the bottom bunk together again, but he leaned back behind you now, stretching before putting his arms behind his head. He pulled his legs and cast awkwardly back up into the bed as you shifted to try and let him get how he wanted.

He looked pretty content though as he lowered an arm back to put it across your lap. “Well that was years ago. He had hair, he was walking. He didn’t want me for your little private school though. He just wanted me to help them spring my dad from the Pentagon...but I don’t think he knew it was my dad either then. It was all Logan’s plan to bring me. Really I didn’t find out much else. These dudes just showed up at my house, and I went with them to commit a felony.” He shrugged a little. “Probably not that smart, right? But I didn’t have anything else cool to do that day I guess.”

You wondered how much of that story Xavier would really tell you if you asked one day. You could only imagine what reasoning someone like the Professor would have to do something so brazen, even if it was to help Erik. Especially when Xavier had always preached to you all the importance of staying within the law and not using your powers to exploit any rules that would apply to non mutants. For now, you only asked a little bit more though. “How many people actually came to your house to do that then?”

“Oh, it was just three. Prof., Hank, and Logan.”

Well that made it even more interesting really. Hank was also so well known for always following the rules. But then again, he also was one of Xavier’s longest friends, like Raven and Erik. They’d all known each other since many years ago.

But this was the second time Peter had said this name of ‘Logan’. Shouldn’t you know that name? Well yes, you knew at least one. You couldn’t forget the name Jean had told you back in Stryker’s base. The man who’d gone on a rampage, though also cutting you violently from your own restraints before he’d escaped. Honestly you might even have scars from that when this was all said and done. But the name in and of itself wasn’t that unusual of a name. And what Peter was talking about apparently occurred years ago.

“I don’t think I know a Logan,” You said honestly. “Was he a mutant too?”

“Oh hell yeah,” Peter answered, raising up a closed fist. He made a noise, and a motion you didn’t understand as if he was doing something in midair with his fist, before adding. “Three big claws come shooting out this dude’s hand. It was so gross, but badass.”

You stared, the realization finally hitting hard. It couldn’t be a coincidence then. “Peter!” You exclaimed abruptly. There was just no way they were two different people. It was too unique of a mutation. “That’s the guy!”

“Huh?” He looked up at you in surprise. Confused at your sudden excitement.

“The one from the base! Didn’t Jean tell you?” Without thought, you lifted your shirt enough to show him those long claw marks still red across your stomach. They were dry now, already trying to heal. But it was three in a row, still clear as day. “The guy that tore through all those soldiers and freed me, she told me that his name was Logan.”

“She didn’t tell me that.” Peter stammered slightly, definitely caught off guard as you’d raised your shirt. “She just said to expect you to be bloody when I went looking for you.” He was staring at your exposed skin now though. “So Logan did that?”

You tensed slightly as you felt his fingertips graze your abdomen. It wasn’t unpleasant, just a bit unexpected. You lowered your shirt back down, but noticed obviously when he just let his hand stay under it.

When you didn’t show further aversion to the touch though, his hand continued idly wandering on the skin that was unbroken. “Well damn, that’s super screwed up then. I know they said a guy went full rage mode and tore the place up. And yeah, I saw the bodies he left when I went looking for you. But they didn’t say his name. I didn’t see him either before he took off.”

“It has to be the same person.” You reiterated. “But if you really want to be sure, you can always think of those memories of him, the Logan that you knew. If you let Jean look into your thoughts later, she could tell you for certain if it was him.

Peter looked a little disconcerted, but just agreed anyway. “Yeah, sure. I just, man how long did they have him there then? What a dick that Stryker guy was. Fuck him.”

But after the little bit of anger, he was only looking back at you. That thought of Stryker seeming to also remind him of your initial meeting with him. “How’s your ribs?”

You felt his fingers trail up across them at the question. “Sore,” You admitted. “But what isn’t?”

His voice was quieter then though, his hand moving back down before it reached your chest. “Then don’t jump out of any more planes please.”

You paused, wondering if he really was so bothered about that to have brought it up again. You’d all played so fast and loose that day though, doing whatever you felt you had to do. “It was a big day of firsts that’s for sure.”

“No kidding.” He agreed.

And nothing was ever going to be the same again was it? Even when you were all home again and the mansion was finally rebuilt. Were you all just going to go back to class like you hadn’t almost died? Would you just pretend that you didn’t know there were still entities out there that wanted you dissected, destroyed, or both?

“I think it gave the Professor a lot to think about too.” Is what you finally said. “I feel like he’s going to change some things going forward. But I don’t know how much yet. I don’t know if this could really mean the resurrection of the X-Men.” It was a crazy thought. Xavier and Hank never really liked to talk about that part of their past. They’d lost a lot then, or at least that’s always what you’d inferred from the bits and pieces you had heard over the years.

“X-Men...” Peter repeated, making a face like he wasn’t sure if it was a decent name or not. “Guess it’d still be better than being called Charlie X’s Angels or something like that.”

You smirked. “You know they used to all have codenames too.” Though you were sure not all of them were self named. “Xavier was just Professor X, Hank was Beast, Raven was Mystique, Scott’s brother Alex was Havok, your dad was Magneto of course. But there was Banshee, Darwin, and Tempest as well.”

He gave you a contemplative look. “Can I call you Lite-Brite then?”

Your look must have clearly said no, but he just kept going, very amused at your reaction.

“Glo-Worm?” He offered instead.

“Seriously? You’d name me after a bug?”

“Nah, they’ve got these super cute toy ones. Wanda had one. She slept with that thing all the time. They glow when you hug them.” He was grinning again now. “I mean, you’re comforting too right? Think I could make you glow?”

“I don’t think it works that way.” But honestly you might be lying to save face as he was now rubbing his hand further up into your shirt again.

“Don’t we all lose a little control when we get excited?” He countered, his tone getting a little more dangerous. “I know I do.”

You felt that statement was likely a bit of a trap, hesitating as your curiosity swelled. What could happen with his powers if he did have an uncontrolled moment like that? He was likely right though. Just like the onset of mutant powers came for most of you around the same time as puberty, they could also be triggered by intense emotions or stress. So it was reasonable to think that another powerful feeling such as arousal could also lead to some issues for those of you already less experienced in controlling yourselves.

“Brings a whole new meaning to safe sex doesn’t it?” He said as he let go of you then, putting his hands back behind his head. He still looked too amused, even though he seemed to sense when you needed another break from the touching to process your own thoughts.

“Did that happen with her?” You asked though. Not afraid, but yes, maybe some concern in your expression. You really hadn’t considered any of this before.

His smile faded at the unexpected mention of Crystal again. But he only hesitated a little, looking at you as he answered honestly. “Sometimes. She uh, burnt me a couple times. In the literal sense. She was like the band, Earth, Wind, and Fire. I mean she could control water too, but I liked the band joke better.” He frowned slightly. “She always hated that joke though.”

“Did you do anything to her?” You responded quietly before you could think better of it. Was this really any of your business? No, not really. But, it could be a part of your future.

There was a little surprise in his eyes, but his answer was immediate. “Babe, I’m the last person you’d ever have to be afraid of.” He looked bothered still as he continued though. “And no, I never hurt her. She would have knocked me into next week if I had.”

“So what does happen if you lose control that way?” You still asked, deciding you still did want to know.

He gave you an awkward look. But if he was going to offer out this information, it seemed there was going to at least be a small price for it. “If I’m really riled up? Turned on? You can say it outright you know.”

You weren’t going to say it in any more explicit way than that though, but you nodded at least. “Yes, you know what I mean.”

He sighed at your modesty, but reached out his hand after a moment. “Let me see your wrist then. Way easier just to show you.”

Well, if it was anything dangerous, he wouldn’t be so casual about it would he? You did offer him your wrist, not knowing what to expect as he clasped his hand around it.

You could tell he was focusing on something for just a moment, before the oddest sensation you’d ever felt shot from your wrist, down into your fingertips, and all the way up into your shoulder before you jerked your hand back in surprise.

Your reaction didn’t seem to faze him at all though as he’d easily let you go. It looked like you’d only done exactly as he expected. “You’ll still feel it for a bit after, just so you know.”

And you could still feel it, fading but definitely there as you flexed your fingers. “What did you do?” It wasn’t painful, but it was like a tingling, instantaneous whenever he’d done it. Not just through the skin, but into the bone, the muscle, everything. The only thing you could liken it to at all is when a limb woke up from being asleep, yet it wasn’t as uncomfortable as that and it was far deeper.

“Well you asked what happens if I get too excited. I, uh, vibrate?” He tried to call it something without really knowing what to call it. “I’m no science guy, but I’d guess it moves everything I’m touching down to what, the atoms right? So that’s what you’d feel. But it wouldn’t just be from my hand. I was doing it on purpose there. If it wasn’t on purpose it’d be literally all of me doing it.”

So that would mean, well...that would be a very intense sensation to say the least if you would happen to be having skin to skin contact in more places than one when he would accidentally do that. You tried not to let your expression change much at the realization. The last thing you wanted to do was to throw this very personal dialog further down into the gutter.

“I still think you’d glow though.” He added confidently. “And if your energy deal is always as warm as it was in that elevator shaft back at the base, I think it’d feel really good too. Just for the record.”

Yes, this was definitely teetering on that edge of going fully into a place you weren’t ready for just yet. But you only had yourself to blame. You asked him to elaborate, and he did. You knew your powers could be a lot more than harmless though. Much more than warmth. You didn’t know if it’d be too pessimistic to mention that right now though.

“I don’t know what I would do.” You finally said, just speaking the truth when you didn’t know what else to say.

“We can talk about something else you know if you want.” He poked you gently in the arm, seemingly offering you an escape route if you wished to take it. “Like we’re still going to the mall at some point right?”

“Definitely.” You answered gladly.

“You should come over too, play some video games when we get back. I’ve got an Atari and a Nintendo. Or we could watch a movie. You like Bruce Lee? Karate Kid? Stuff like that?”

The genuine eagerness emerging in his tone was something you really appreciated. A reminder that in reality, even though he evidently enjoyed any physical contact he was allowed to have with you, it was only a part of the whole picture. He just wanted to be around you too.

“Yes, I think that’d be awesome. I haven’t seen many of those movies, but usually Jubilee picks for movie night. Breakfast Club, Pretty in Pink, Sixteen Candles...over and over.”

He laughed. “Oh, no way. There’s more to life than Molly Ringwald. Time to expand your horizons!”

You were smiling too, about to say something back when Scott’s voice carried from further down the barracks.

“Hey, they brought dinner if either of you want to eat!”

“But is it even worth a crap!?” Peter called back immediately and just as loudly.

“Heck if I know!” Scott answered and you could swear you heard a lot less loud Jean tell him to quit yelling in her ear.

“I’m still salty about that fake strawberry garbage from earlier.” Peter said, just to you then as he sat back up.

It wasn’t much of a surprise to you though that the food would be brought to you all this time, considering the episode in the mess hall before. The only thing that did surprise you was that it would already be dinner time. Though it was hard to have much concept of time right now really, especially when there were no windows to see the sun or sky below deck.

But it did give it more of that prison feel too. The hours running together, locked away in close quarters, and now with government mandated food being dropped off impersonally. It either felt like prison or being in a rare species exhibit at the zoo.

“Well, you said you’re like a hummingbird metabolism wise, right? You have to eat something.” You spoke, while hanging back to give Peter a chance to get up on his crutches.

Really the hummingbird analogy you were liking more and more though as you personally thought they were adorable, and they literally were the bird equivalent to him in your opinion. This flamboyant little bird that beat its wings so fast it could actually hover in place or disappear in a blur once they did decide to take off. Not to mention the exclusive high sugar diet.

“Glo-Worm,” Was all he replied back, but very pleased when it still got a strong reaction from you.

“Please don’t make that one stick. It’s a lot less cute than Hummingbird.”

But he just offered a non-committal smile, walking past you. “We’ll see.”

——————————

Some few hours later, when it was time for lights out again, Peter had wanted to take a shower so you were already in the bottom bunk alone.

You tried to stay awake to wait for him, but you must have already been asleep for how bad you startled when you felt something pressing down against the mattress beside you.

And when you shot up, you were even more confused at the sudden pressure against the top of your head before you finally woke up enough to realize Peter now had his hand splayed there, pushing your head back a little.

“Woah,” He whispered in the dark. “You about nailed the top of the bunk. It’s just me.”

You relaxed, trying to look at him before you felt him let go, laying down beside you. As you laid down as well, he shifted several times, trying to get comfortable.

“I hate this damn cast.” He complained. “Do you know how weird it is to have to shower with a garbage bag tied around your leg?”

You could feel his still wet hair though on the pillow as he nuzzled in closer with you. You’d both joked a little earlier about looking forward to getting to share this bed one more time tonight before heading back to the U.S. and your sort of more normal lives tomorrow. The emphasis of the joking though had been about getting to continue the kissing that had been interrupted on the flight deck.

But now that you were here, you found you really just wanted to hold him and enjoy the warmth and quiet together. Because you didn’t know when this chance would come again. Would you go your separate ways tomorrow? You back to New York and wherever the other displaced students were now staying, and him back to D.C. to reunite with his mother? He wouldn’t be able to run and come to find you again until his cast was off. And how many weeks would that take, even with mutant healing factors?

You didn’t really know what the exact plan was after you’d arrive in the U.S. either, but maybe there was something you could do after all. “Hey.” You said quietly after a bit, hoping he was still awake.

“Mmm?” He made a questioning noise, hugging a bit tighter to you.

You took it as enough response to say that he was listening. “So they said that we’re landing in New Jersey tomorrow, right? Well everyone else is going to want to go north to get back to Salem Center, New York.” You didn’t really need to clarify where the school had been though, he’d obviously already found it. “But you’ll need to go south to get back to D.C., and it’s not like Xavier is going to expect you to find your own way home. Someone’s going to have to drive you and-”

But Peter didn’t even let you finish, already very on board with the idea. “And we give Prof. the old puppy eyes and beg for it to be you.” You knew he was grinning again then just by his tone. “I like it. Road trip.”

You felt relief that he approved of your spur of the moment plan, but then again he’d already said he wanted you to come over to his house sometime. You wouldn’t be able to stay very long you were sure, but at least you’d get the car ride together if this all worked out. And you’d get to see where he lived, maybe even hang out for a little while before having to drive back to New York.

It was funny how just like that you now had something to look forward to again. But would Xavier really be on board? Would he feel comfortable letting you drive back alone? You’d just have to convince him that you were old enough now and capable.

“I guess I should have cleaned my room a little better before I left.” Peter mused. “Can be a bit of a train wreck, just like the dude that lives in it.”

“Oh, someone else lives there too?” You teased slightly.

But Peter only played along. “Yeah, a real piece of work. Guy just plays video games all day, and wears out the same shitty records playing them over and over with the volume up. Maybe reads some comic books or jets off to nab some Twinkies from the convenience store down the block. Real outstanding citizen. I heard he’s dating now though. Who the hell would want that charity project?”

“Hmm.” You knew he was only half joking, Peter really still seeing himself in the way he just described to a large degree. But you were patient, and determined to keep working on building his self confidence little by little. “I think if he met someone then, it’d be someone who believes in the old ‘diamond in the rough’ expression. They must really just like him for him. They probably even see his real value even when he can’t yet.”

Peter was quiet for a few moments at that before you felt him run a hand through your hair. “I guess that would make him really lucky then. He probably should bust his ass to make sure he doesn’t disappoint them then and screw that one up.”

You smiled softly. “All he has to do is be himself. If you have to fight too hard just to maintain a relationship, it likely was never right to begin with.”

“Been there, done that.” He at least agreed, but was now running his fingers down along your face.

You knew what he was hoping for and leaned in to meet him as you kissed. It was very soft though, like he was still thinking of what you’d said. He didn’t press for much more either, just a few more kisses before he nuzzled his face back down against you.

“I’m still going to do the best I can.” He spoke quietly against your neck. “I want you to be happy.”

“I am.” You said. Feeling every bit of those words as you stayed warm against one another. It felt safe. It felt right.

And no one said anything else. You were both content to leave it that way, falling asleep just as you were.

———————————

(Continued in next chapter here)

#quicksilver #quicksilver x y/n #quicksilver x you #quicksilver x oc #quicksilver x reader #quicksilver xmen #peter maximoff #peter maximoff x y/n #peter maximoff x you #peter maximof x reader #peter maximoff x oc #x men #xmen #x men fanfiction

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meetmeatthecoda · 3 years

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Now that I’ve had some time to cry & mourn & actually think about that horrendous excuse for television... I have... some thoughts.

Firstly, the pace of that episode was insane. I mean, the season itself felt like we were slowly & tortuously hacking our way through a tangled rain forest, trying desperately to see the forest for the trees, but instead stuck cutting vines & branches down one by one... until we got to that finale, which felt comparatively like finally cutting away all the dense foliage only to immediately fall off a fucking cliff. You could just tell they were using the least amount of dialogue they could to move through so many weird emotions at fucking breakneck speed. I mean there was... the brief aftermath in Latvia, the 4 second plane ride to re-introduce Red’s illness after how many eps, Liz’s 3 second long recuperation, the awkward attempt at humor with the helium followed by a crash landing into solemnity at Red’s talk with Cooper, the abrupt & unsatisfying discussion with Red & Liz where he makes his rEqUESt, all the different “heartfelt” one-on-ones with Liz’s people, the fucking forced af “romance” with K**nler, the shoe-horned “chance meeting” with Beth Ryker, the most Agnes has ever talked in the history of ever, the weirdly morbid & fucking heartbreaking walk in the park, the choppy restaurant scene, to the unmentionable... end event. It went all over the place, which is very unlike TBL imo, which usually seems to stick to a theme or emotional center for an entire episode, whether blacklister or mythology driven. I think it was painfully clear how poor their planning was (when they have literally no excuse bc they knew this was coming the whole season???) & just how much shit they were trying to squeeze into one episode.

Secondly - & this may seem obvious, but I think it’s worth talking about anyway - Liz should have gotten her answers. And I’m not just saying this as a Lizzington shipper (I mean, mostly I am, but there are other reasons also!) Primarily, I think bc... literally everyone expected them. Not just bc they were advertised (it’s certainly not the first time they’ve delighted in false advertising in promos when it comes to the all-important AnSwErS) but bc THEY MADE SURE EVERYONE KNEW BEFOREHAND THAT IT WAS MEGAN’S LAST EP. It might have been mildly acceptable to play coy for yet another season finale IF she was coming back in some capacity later to eventually wrap things up, but - given that they fucking slammed the door on that possibility - THEY SHOULD HAVE GIVEN US ANSWERS. I don’t think anyone considered the possibility that they would KILL her & NOT give us answers bc it makes no fucking sense. Additionally, Liz should have gotten her answers simply bc SHE!! DESERVED!! THEM!! They’re literally the thing she’s been fighting for for eight seasons & she fucking died without them? WTF??? But, most importantly to us Lizzington shippers, Liz not getting her answers ruined the park fantasy. I think we all imagined (BC IT WAS MEGAN’S LAST EP) that Red & Liz would finally talk & Red would give her the answers she wanted. I think we all expected from the (misleading) promo that he would make some sense out of the potentially jumbled memories/visions (?) from 8.21 &, most importantly, there would be SOME KIND OF EMOTIONAL TURNING POINT, SOME CATHARSIS, AN UNDERSTANDING & RENEWED LOVE BETWEEN THEM DRIVEN BY THE AFOREMENTIONED REVELATIONS (& LOVE OF WHATEVER KIND, MIND YOU, WE WEREN’T PICKY, JUST SOMETHING FOUNDED ON RECONCILIATION & PEACE.) But - bc they denied us that - Liz was still in the dark & waiting on answers for the entire ep, unable to forgive or reconnect with her true feelings for Red (whatever you believe them to be) & this made her reaction to Red’s rEqUeSt ring very hollow & detached, the whole park bench conversation stilted & awkward (on Liz’s end) & - THE WORST PART - it made the whole park fantasy feel FALSE. It cheapened it. Like she was just indulging him, letting him walk with her & play with Agnes & enjoy one more day of life before she indifferently killed him. The one thing we expected to get, should have gotten, & THOUGHT WE WOULD HAVE NO MATTER WHAT ELSE HAPPENED IN THE FINALE was ruined. With the assisted suicide talk beforehand, the almost begrudging acceptance from Liz, the obvious morbid mindset from Red, the song in the background, the context of it all. It put an awful spin we completely didn’t expect on what should have been our beautiful Lizzington park fantasy. And I think that may be the part that hurts the most - the fact that I can only look at gifs of that scene - bc the music & dialogue & context completely undermine what Liz’s fantasy should have been, that she got for just one afternoon, when she was supposed to be happy & at peace with Red & Agnes.

Thirdly, (anyone still there? lolz) the whole “plot” of this episode was fucking nonsensical. Chiefly - & many other people have pointed this out before now - Red would never ask Liz to kill him. I simply call bullshit. No matter how hard they tried to justify it (& boyyyyy, did they try) Red has never wanted Liz to be a killer, criminal, or have to live a life like him. He has canonically said as much. I could maybe buy the whole “taking over his empire” thing as the seasons progressed, but asking Liz to live with the guilt (however slight or delayed) of killing him, after everything they’ve been through together, after she told him she loves him (seasons ago, but the feelings are still there, albeit buried deep)? And thereby launching her (& by extension Agnes) directly into harm’s way as the “new” Concierge of Crime (?), without him there to guide her from the shadows? No way. Bullshit. Also - & @iwouldlovetoeatyourtoast mentioned this first, I believe - the whole idea of it was stupid anyway bc Liz has spent the entire season chasing him, has repeatedly gotten opportunities to take the big shot, & has always been unable to kill him. It wasn’t even an engaging tWiSt to throw in at the very end bc - even when she agreed to do it - we all knew it wouldn’t happen, also bc Megan was the one leaving & not James. So, it wasn’t a surprise when she broke down at the end & said she couldn’t, so wtf was the point?

Fourthly (almost to the end, god this feels good) & this was a huge tell imo - everyone was OOC. Now you might say that’s the bitterness talking & you might be right... but you fucking try & tell me that 1) Red all of a sudden decides he’s ready for death after how long of not accepting it or mentioning it & absolutely must be killed by Liz & no one else within the next 24-48 hours 2) Liz would willingly go along with that for even a second 3) Dembe wouldn’t try his damnedest to talk Red out of assisted suicide in general & especially coercing Liz into doing it 4) Ressler would be the one to fucking figure it out & hightail it out of bed AFTER BEING ON DEATH’S DOOR WITH A BUSTED LUNG & SEPSIS FFS 5) Wolf Man Van Dyke would even know where to find Liz on a random fucking street corner outside a random fucking restaurant 6) Red wouldn’t see him behind Liz taking aim 7) THERE WOULDN’T BE A DECLARATION OF FEELINGS/LOVE CONFESSION BETWEEN RED & LIZ IN THE 14 MILLION OBVIOUS PLACES THERE COULD HAVE BEEN *PRIMARILY AFTER SHE SAYS “I CAN’T DO IT, I DON’T WANT TO” I MEAN, HELLO????? WTF, WHY WASN’T THERE AN “BC I LOVE YOU, I LOVE YOU TOO, LIZZIE” LIKE HOW HARD WOULD THAT HAVE BEEN, IT WAS THE PERFECT PLACE, THE LAST CHANCE, & WE FUCKING DESERVED ITTTTTTTTTTT *ahem* & lastly, & most importantly, & I’m definitely going to cry typing this... 8) if you fucking try to tell me that Red would allow himself to be pulled away from Lizzie’s dead body for a second time by Dembe or anyone else (especially when it was only the stupid task force arriving???) without simply crossing the street to load his gun with trembling fingers, pull the trigger, & join her... you’re fucking crazy.

In conclusion, bc this has gone on long enough, this was just... a hasty, sloppy, rushed, unprepared, careless ending on all fronts, no matter how hard they tried to convince us it was totally-100%-on-purpose-of-course-why-do-you-ask? (And I’m not even touching on the Redarina bait bc fuck that shit.) Like, did anyone else feel like when Red was telling Dembe that he was sure & this was what he wanted & really he’s positive so please stop asking, and when he was explaining things to Liz in almost too much detail, and when he was telling Harold this was absolutely necessary... that it was really the writers trying to convince us? It just felt so sudden & forced & heavy-handed & absurdly preventable & at the same time ridiculously unstoppable... I mean, look, whatever drama clearly went on behind the scenes? I think we can all agree that they did a terrible, awful, shit-tastic job on all fronts. And it’s just such a shame that that’s how it ended 💔

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duhragonball · 3 years

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Battle Tendency Liveblog: JJBA Ch.109-113

Hard to believe we’re at the end of this crazy ride.

Last time, Joseph had defeated Kars, only for Stroheim to order his men to finish Kars off with UV rays. Stroheim just wanted Kars to hurry up and die faster, and maybe he also wanted credit for the kill, but instead he played right into Kars hands. After Joseph kicked his ass, Kars put on a Stone Mask he had stowed away somewhere, and he installed the Red Stone of Aja into the Mask.

I should probably go over that a bit, since it hasn’t been mentioned for a while. Kars has been perfecting the Stone Mask technology for thousands of years. It turns humans into vampires, but for his species it unlocks even greater powers. But Kars hit a wall in his research. He wanted to design a mask that would make him the ultimate life form, but he lacked the means to power such a mask. He discovered an answer in the Aja Stone, a mineral that focuses light, but he needed a bigger, more flawless sample of it, and that’s the Stone he’s using right now, the one he captured from Lisa Lisa.

So instead of killing Kars, Stroheim accidentally made his lifelong ambition come true. One nice touch I just noticed is that the Mask itself falls apart as soon as it’s finished its task. I suppose, in theory, someone else could have tried it on and get the same power boost as Kars? Would it even work on a normal human? Well, we’ll never find out.

There’s a couple of ways to interpret this. One is that Kars’ “Super” Mask was highly experimental, and it must have been untested, since he’d never had Lisa’s stone until now. So it’s possible that the thing burned itself out after a single use. The other interpretation is that Kars designed this Mask to self-destruct after the first use, because it was never intended for anyone else but himself. The whole point of this was to become the Ultimate Life Form, the very pinnacle of all living creatures on Earth. I think it was implied that Wammu and Esidisi were expecting to share in this power when the time came, but why would Kars have ever allowed for this? What’s the point of being the greatest and best in the world if you have to share that top spot with two other guys?

Stroheim realllly wants to believe this is all a big fluke, and that he didn’t just make the bad guy stronger. The Ripple wound on Kars’ arm is still there, so Stroheim figures he’ll die anyway. Except Kars doesn’t seem too bothered by his injury. And then...

Yeah, so Kars not only repairs his injured arm, he reshapes his hand into a squirrel. Joseph speaks for us all: What the fuck?

For a hot minute, everyone thinks the squirrel he made is kind of cute, until Kars sends it to find another squirrel and kill it. Then the Kars-squirrel tears a hole through Stroheim and carves a trench in a Nazi soldier from chest to eyeball. Then it rejoins Kars’ wrist, and turns into a flower, and then a butterfly. Some Part 5 and 6 pre-references for ya.

Then the sun comes up. Wait, the Joseph/Wammu fight happened around midnight, right? How many hours have these folks been out here? And it’s February, too, so this had to have been a long night. Anyway, the sun comes up, so we’re saved, right? Wrong. Sunlight doesn’t hurt Kars anymore, thanks to the power he got from his special mask. So now what are they supposed to do?

Well, Joseph’s going to use his last resort: running away. Also, he grabs the Aja Stone, for no apparent reason. Kars grows a pair of wings to chase him. He no longer cares about the Hamon users, because they’re no longer a threat to him. But he wants to kill Joseph personally, both to celebrate his new powers and to avenge the deaths of Wammu and Kars.

Smokey joins Joseph, which doesn’t make much sense to Joseph, but Smokey wants to tell Joseph about Lisa Lisa being his mother. Except Joseph’s a little too distracted by the eldritch horror that’s trying to murder him. Read the room, Smokey.

Here’s a helpful diagram of Kars to explain what his deal is now. Basically, he’s immortal and can regenerate and reshape his whole body, but he had that before, just by being a Pillar Man. The big upgrade is that he’s no longer weak to sunlight (and by extension, the Ripple), and he can now replicate the traits of any life form on Earth. He’s faster than cheetahs and has better hearing than bats and so on. He can go for a full year without eating, and he no longer needs to sleep. Sex is meaningless to him, because procreation is only important for lower life forms to maintain their species. Kars has no need for children or bretheren. “There is but only one summit.”

Maybe Wammu and Esidisi had understood that truth all along, and they never seriously expected Kars to share this power with them. They practically worshipped Kars as it was, so maybe they were only doing this for the greater glory of their leader.

So what does Kars plan to do with all of this power he now has? The Aja Stone was his only goal before, and that’s done. He has no enemies to fear, and as Speedwagon observes, there’s no way left to kill him. This page states that his only purpose now is to create a world to match his own desire, but what is that? What’s Kars’ vision for the Earth now that he’s reached this point?

We never really find out, and I suppose that’s why it’s convenient that he decided to start out by killing Joseph. For all we know, he would have just chilled out and left humanity alone after that, but this way there’s still an immediate threat to deal with.

Miraculously, Joseph manages to stay ahead of Kars long enough to find the airplane that brought Stroheim here. You’d think Kars could have caught up to him with all these fancy new powers, but Kars was never in much of a hurry. He took his time to search for the Aja Stone, and he made it a point to trap Jojo and Lisa rather than risk fighting them fairly. So even now, when he has such an overwhelming advantage, he seems to be playing things the same way. He has no weaknesses, so he may as well take his time and stalk Joseph, if only to watch him squirm.

Joseph tries using the plane’s weapons to even the odds, but Kars grows armadillo hide on his wings to protect himself, and he fires the armor at Joseph like shrapnel. So machinery doesn’t seem to make much of a difference.

So Joseph just flies south, using the plane’s engines to give himself a comfortable lead. He’ll run out of fuel in a couple of hours, but Speedwagon calls him on the radio and tells him that they’ll figure out a plan. Except that Joseph already has his own plan. There’s a volcanic island off the coast of Italy. I assume this is Stromboli Island, since Italy has only three active volcanoes, and Mt. Stromboli is the only one on an island. Anyway, Joseph plans to lure Kars into the volcano, and destroy him with molten lava. I mean, Kars is still flammable, right?

Speedwagon hates this idea, because he doesn’t see any way for Joseph to pull this off without getting killed in the process, and that sounds way too much like what happened to Joseph’s father and grandfather. Oh, and his great-grandfather. I didn’t notice George I up there until just now. Speedwagon tries to tell Joseph about Lisa being his mom, but Joseph can’t hear him because of all the piranha noises in the plane. Wait... what?

Yeah, all the feathers that Kars turned into armor and launched into the fuselage? Well, he’s still controlling those things, and now Kars has turned them into piranhas. Well, I guess not literal fish, since they’d never survive up here. The point is that Kars can control every cell in his body and mimic any animal traits he wants, so if he wants to make small bitey creatures to wreck Joseph’s plane, he might as well make them look like piranhas. ALso he makes an octopus that tears up one of the engines.

So Joseph bails out, but he’s a sitting duck in that parachute. Kars calls him a butterfly caught in a web, which is the second time we’ve seen that analogy in Part 2. Araki just out here telling everyone what Jolyne would be wearing in twelve years.

But the parachute contains a dummy. Why did Joseph waste time drawing a face on it? Because he knew he had to fool Kars’ razor-sharp senses, of course. Kars probably saw the dummy, and got suspicious, but then he noticed the eyes and mouth, and though “Oh, okay, I guess that’s a real person then.”

Anyway, this suckers Kars in so that Joseph can crash into him with his plane and they can both go into the volcano together.

But Kars thinks he can tear up the plane before it lands. Except a robot hand grabs him from behind, and he finds Stroheim stowed away. Wait, so Stroheim outran Joseph AND Kars and hid in this plane before Joseph took off?

Anyway, Stroheim manages to get Joseph out of the plane to relative safety, but he crushes his whole lower body in the process. But it seems to be worth it, because Kars landed smack-dab in the volcano! Awesome! Fuck you, Kars, you screwed over Lisa Lisa, and that’s what you get! He tries to protect himself, but he can’t grow a defense against 1000 degree heat...

... is what I would say, except no, Kars totally does that. Just when Joseph thinks Kars has succumed to the lava, Kars pops out and slices off Joseph’s left arm with his goofy blade.

How the fuck did Kars survive? Well, he couldn’t grow a lava-proof shell, but he could create a porous layer beneath the shell, and use the air inside to insulate the rest of his body from the heat. That wouldn’t protect him indefinitely, but it was enough to get the drop on Joseph.

So that’s it then, right? Not even molten lava can kill Kars, unless you could shove him down in there and keep him still for like ten minutes, and who’s going to pull that off? Stroheim begins to lose all hope...

Then we get a flashback to Kars’ origin. Long, long ago, there was a race of subterranean humanoid with long lifespans and an aversion to sunlight. Prehistoric humans thought of them as gods or demons because of their reclusiveness and power. Also, they would eat humans and animals, so that probably made them dangerous, too.

But I don’t think they were nearly as powerful as the Pillar Men we’ve seen in this story. I say this because the flashback establishes that Kars was the one who discovered the latent power in their brains, and he was the one who invented the Stone Mask technology to harness that latent power. So it stands to reason that much of what he and the others could do was the result of Stone Mask enhancements. The problem is that those enhancements increased the amount of blood they needed to consume, and the others in the Clan feared that Kars’ experiments would destroy their whole ecosystem. So when they tried to stop Kars, he killed them all. The only survivors were himself, Esidisi, and two young children who grew up to become Wammu and Santana.

So that story tells you something about what Kars might do with this newfound “ultimate” power. He didn’t achieve this for the good of his own people, because they’re all dead now, and he wiped most of them out personally. If he would do that to his own kind, the rest of the Earth would be expendable to him.

Back to the present, Joseph’s not giving up yet. He tries to use the Ripple one more time, but it doesn’t work. Worse, Kars counters with his own Ripple. Because Kars can do that now, you see. He’s got the powers of all life on Earth, and that includes Ripple users, I suppose. Worse, Kars’ Hamon power is hundreds of times greater, so he ends up getting badly burned on his right knee.

So now Joseph’s completely out of tricks, and he starts to accept the inevitable. Kars decides that the best way to kill Joseph would be to destroy him with his own finisher, Ripple Overdrive. So he charges up the most powerful Hamon attack he can muster, and just as he’s about to strike...

Joseph impulsively grabs the Red Stone of Aja and uses it to block, kind of like how he stymied Kars back on that cliff in Switerland. Only this time, Kars doesn’t hold back, and the Hamon attack is amplified. It bursts through Joseph’s right hand and into the volcano below.

The narration says that not even Joseph really understood any of this. He just sort of acted on instinct. That bothered me once, but now I see that it wasn’t entirely unconscious impulse. Back in Venice, when Lisa first told Joseph about the Aja Stone, Joseph suggested destroying it to deny Kars his prize. But Lisa said there was a legend that foretold that Kars could never be defeated without the Aja Stone. And that would at least explain why Joseph picked the thing up back in Switzerland before he fled to Mt. Stromboli. Maybe it was unconscious action that made him pick up the stone in this fateful moment, but I think it was a more conscious thought that made him take the stone with him in the first place. On some level, he remembered that legend.

Okay, so there’s a mega-ultra-Super-Saiyan-5-Ripple that just went into a live volcano. What good does that do? Well, it makes the volcano erupt, and it launches Joseph and Kars into the air. So what? Kars can fly. Yeah, he could, but...

You know, Joseph’s lost hand really left an impression on me when I first watched the anime of Part 2, but now that I’ve read the manga, I’ve noticed tons of severed and wounded forearms all through this story, almost as if Araki had been building up to this moment. I’d make a Part 4 joke, but nah, that’s too easy. But it wasn’t even that long ago that Wammu lost both of his hands, and then he launched them as Joseph to distract him. Kars lost his hand before he grew it back and turned it into a squirrel. Hell, Stroheim launched his robot hand at Kars to distract him for the volcano crash. And now Joseph’s hand has somehow launched itself into Kars’ throat to distract him again!

I’m assuming that Hamon energy has a lot to do with this. You’d think Joseph’s hand wouldn’t have survived getting fired up this high, and it shouldn’t be powerful enough or alive enough to bother Kars this much, but it does. So I’m chalking it up to all that Ripple energy. It briefly reanimated Joseph’s hand and made it follow Kars up to this altitude, kind of like how Jonathan controlled Wang Chung’s decapitated body at the end of Part 1.

So Joseph taunts Kars about this, and implies that he planned this somehow. And when Kars pauses to ask if he did plan this, more rocks and stuff from the volcano hit him and send him even higher up into the air.

And Joseph claims that he did plan this entire thing! That’s bullshit, but he hopes Kars will believe it, if only to make him more frustrated. Maybe Joseph didn’t plan all this out, but he seems to have deduced what’s happening here.

Kars has been launched so high into the air, and at such an incredible speed, that he’s achieved escape velocity. Does Kars even realize what that means? I mean, he’s super-intelligent, especially now, and he’s been alive for thousands of years, but what could he really know about outer space? Has he ever even considered it before? It seems like all of his ambitions involve the Earth, and only the Earth, and everything living upon it.

As for Joseph, the chunk of rock he’s on does not fly into space. Instead, it starts to fall back down, and Joseph assumes that he’s probably not going to survive the impact. Eight hours later, Stroheim makes it back and informs Speedwagon that Joseph must have died in the eruption.

But Kars isn’t worried at first, because he thinks he has this whole “vacuum of space” thing figured out. He just takes a page from Wammu’s playbook and makes air jets on his back to expel compressed gas from his body, like the maneuvering thrusts on a spacecraft. Except that’s not nearly enough to counteract the force of the volcano that sent him up here.

Yeah, Kars has no idea how space works. Instinctively, he probably counted on friction to slow him down, except there is no friction in space. He probably also expected his air jets to push him a little bit at a time, and maybe he could pull in more air as needed, except there is no more air. Even the air from his body is denied to him, because it just dissipates into the vacuum of space. Kars talks about the air freezing as it comes out, but I don’t think that’s right. What’s happening to him is like when you use one of those compressed gas canisters to clean your keyboard. Release a lot of the gas at once, and the can starts to get cold. That’s because the liquefied gas left inside the can now has more room, and it begins to boil as it expands. This draws in heat from the surroundings, which makes the can feel cold to the touch. That’s what’s happening to Kars here. All he’s doing it losing all his body heat. Maybe some of the air really is freezing around him, but I don’t know. It depends on whether the sunlight is hitting him, I think.

Anyway, the last thing Kars says is “I can’t go back!!!” And that’s what makes this so perfect. In the anime, we see the Earth recede into the distance as he continues to tumble further and further away. By surviving the lava, Kars had “mastered” the Earth, but now he’s been separated from the Earth. He’s got all this incredible power, but without the Earth, he’s got no one to use it on.

And then we come to the pièce de résistance of Battle Tendency: The epilogue page that establishes, in no uncertain terms, that Kars never returned to the Earth. There’s no miracle escape this time, no clever trick or loophole. He simply doesn’t have the necessary acceleration to push himself back the way he came.

Did he die? Nope, because he made himself immortal, remember? Not even sunlight or starvation can destroy him now. But now death is the only thing he craves, because he’s completely alone and has nothing to do. I can’t imagine he’s very comfortable like this either, because it’s incredibly cold in outer space, and Kars must be able to sense that cold, even if it doesn’t actually hurt him.

And this is such a fitting punishment for a villain like Kars. Just as Stroheim wanted to become superior and lost his humanity in the process, Kars ruthlessly sacrificed friend and foe alike to achieve this Ultimate form, and what good does it do him? It’s become his prison, his hell. At long last, he’s become the supreme being, a world unto himself, but with no one around to lord it over, there’s really no point to any of it.

I just really love this ending. I’m not sure how else I can express it. This is what should have happened to Akio Othori in Revolutionary Girl Utena. But Araki was brace enough to do it to Kars.

I suppose I could attempt some exercise in JoJo Part Comparison and connect Kars’ final fate to all the other JoJo villains. But I dunno, this is getting pretty long in the tooth as it is. I’ll just say that I’m suddenly reminded of Reimi’s final words to Kira in Part 4, when Kira asks where he’s being taken. “Who knows? But I’m sure it’s somewhere you won’t be able to rest in peace.”

So all that’s left is the matter of Joseph’s funeral-- Nah, just kidding, he’s not even dead. What’s weird is that Smokey says he met Joseph “six months ago”, which seems a lot longer than the events of this story. Anyway, Joseph returned to New York, only to find everyone at the cemetary. He wonders who they’re mourning, and he’s shocked to discover it’s him.

So yeah, the rock Joseph was on acted as a “shield”, and he managed to survive the fall, and even ended up near Venice, where Suzie Q found him and tended to his injuries. Stroheim even set him up with a robotic hand to replace the one Kars lopped off. I guess Stroheim never sent word of any of this to the U.S., probably because of Nazi Germany gearing up for World War II.

Anyway, Suzie took care of him for like two weeks, and they got married. So in a way, Joseph did follow in the legacy of Jonathan. Not in the “dying young” way, but the “Beat the bad guy and wake up in the care of a gorgeous blonde lady who eventually marries you” kind of way. You love to see it. But Suzie forgot to send a telegram to New York to let everyone know Joseph was okay, which is why everyone is so shocked and why Joseph is so shocked about them being shocked.

Then we get the epilogues for all the surviving characters. I mentioned this when I liveblogged the Part 5 manga a few years ago, but the stark contrast between Battle Tendency and Vento Aureo is that Part 5 is very ambiguous about its ending. We know who wins and who loses and who survives, but that isn’t really enough. We don’t know what will happen to Giorno Giovanna after Part 5. Does he live up to his lofty dream, or does he succumb to corruption like his wicked father? I think that’s intentional, because Giorno is the “golden wind” in the story. He’s an agent of change, but we don’t get to see the effects of his efforts, only the cause that he fights for. But Part 2 operates in the exact opposite way. We know exactly how and when Speedwagon dies. I’m a little confused how Stroheim could have died at Stalingrad when Kars and a volcano couldn’t kill him, but maybe the Russians had Stand powers. I think the only minor mystery is that we don’t know what happened to Lisa Lisa after 1948. It’s likely that she survived into Part 3, and maybe beyond, but we never see her again.

It’s also kind of weird how upbeat this epilogue is about reporting on the deaths of so many characters. Like, Stroheim died in one of the worst battles in human history, but he went out on his own terms, so it’s cool? I guess? Even the characters without deaths, like Smokey, it’s sort of implicit that he’ll die sooner or later. But it’s a good thing because it’s final and proper. It’s something Kars craves now, but can never experience. A life worth living, made more precious by its limitations. Kars tried to use cheat codes in nature, and he ended up clipping through the map and making the game unplayable. But Smokey, he‘ll be mayor someday.

As for Joseph, we see him in an airport in 1987, bullying Japanese people because his daughter married a Japanese guy and moved there. He’s headed to Japan right now to see her and his grandson, who probably doesn’t even recognize him, it’s been so long.

On the other hand, he appreciates his Walkman, which is either Joseph giving the Japanese some credit, or maybe he’s just too dense to notice the irony.

I hate that he’s listening to the Beatles, because the Beatles are overrated trash. My favorite thing about the Part 2 anime is how they changed his music to “Bloody Stream” by Coda, which a) kicks ass and b) wasn’t a song by the shitty Beatles.

And that’s Battle Tendency. Kind of neat how it closes on Joseph’s flight departing to visit his daughter and grandson, in contrast to the final panel of Part 1, which showed Erina floating in a coffin alone in the ocean. Joseph has bucked the curse and he’s graduated to Part 3, for better or worse.

But I feel kind of weird leaving it here, because I do love the way the anime wrapped up, so I’ll close out with this:

Tsugi ni omae wa “Grazie!” to iu!

#jojo's bizarre adventure #battle tendency #joseph joestar #kars #rudol von stroheim #lisa lisa #robert e o speedwagon #smokey brown #esidisi #wammu #erina joestar #george joestar #jonathan joestar #george joestar ii #suzie q

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random-french-girl · 3 years

Note

one thing that has always tugged at my suspension of disbelief in the wilds is how gretchen plans/expects the girls to go back home, given everything that happened to them. Clearly some of their parents think the experiment is something else (e.g. leahs parents think it’s a wilderness retreat) and for all we know some of the parents could know the true nature of the experiment. but assuming none of them know, gretchen can’t let the girls leave and then risk telling their parents about a plane crash and becoming castaways bc they were getting “feedback” from gretchen the whole time about their kid’s progress. so i guess i want to know what your thought on this is, bc i sure as heck don’t even know where to begin

Hello Anon! Thanks for your message!

I do have a few thoughts on this, because it’s also something that’s been on my mind, though I don’t think, in this case, it warrants any suspension of disbelief - I think we deliberately haven’t been told yet what Gretchen plans to do with the families in the aftermath of the experiment. Which is normal: season 1 had already so much going on, they barely alluded to the after, and to the parents’ involvement - giving us just enough crumbs to have questions, not enough to answer them, basically. Here’s where I’m at:

Gaslight

An obvious element of Gretchen’s strategy is manipulation & coercion. She’s demonstrated that she doesn’t really give a fuck about ethics in general, and in season 1, we are given some hints of what that would entail: blackmailing the parents, gaslighting the girls. Faber says it explicitly, after making Leah break down and having her forcefully sedated (NO I’M NOT OVER IT THIS MAN IS EVIL): if the girls feel responsible, they are less likely to incriminate them.

So: Gretchen could try to manipulate the girls into not talking, and the parents into NOT believing the girls’ account, and/or into believing they are equally responsible, because they sent the girls willingly & without their consent. If she has an in with social services, that could especially be a threat: make the parents believe they’d lose custody if they went public, for example.

Gatekeep

It all comes down to controlling information & knowledge. Gretchen has to make some of what happened public ; literally the whole purpose of an experiment is to be able to show some results, otherwise it’s useless. But she has to be able to control what is shared to the public, and by whom ; which means she has to control who knows what, and who can be silenced.

I think of it as a series of nested circles. At the center is Gretchen, and the further one is from her focal point, the less one knows and/or is able to speak up. The closest circle is that of her employees, the people she works closely with. Then her supporters and protectors and allies. Then the parents. Then the girls. But as the experiment progresses, obviously the girls are going to learn more and more, and will eventually reunite with their parents, who will also learn more. So Gretchen needs to have some structure in place to ~block the flow of information from getting out of these circles.

Is it all blackmail? Or have the parents signed some sort of ~contract (I don’t know how law works, fair warning), an agreement of non-disclosure, or a document that stipulates they can’t hold Gretchen accountable for any incidents during the retreat? I’m sure her inner circle of minions have similar clauses in their contracts. Maybe she makes the girls sign something - even if it’s not legally binding, what matters is that they believe it is, that they think they’d get in trouble for talking.

Girlboss

In the end, though, it’s about power. What kind of protection does Gretchen have access to? Who is she courting for money and political influence? Does she have enough powerful people on her side that she literally doesn’t have to worry about consequences?

Because it’s not unheard of, that an institution or a group trusted with the care of children end up abusing/hurting them, with absolutely no repercussions. Look at the real world.

But on the other hand, *Toni’s voice*: have you seen how many rich and/or white girls there are on this island? Society will never let them perish.

Like, some girls don’t have families, some have parents who may not have a lot of power, compared to Gretchen’s network. But other parents are well-off, presumably well-connected, and they could have the resources to take on Gretchen if they want to. So Gretchen must be absolutely certain that the balance of power is tipping in her favor. And I assume she’s made sure of it, via all that networking.

Anyway, that’s all I got! I’d love to hear what you, dear Anon, or anyone else, think about this!

#the wilds #random meta #the wilds speculation

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framecaught · 3 years

Text

[S] Cascade After the Death of Flash

Most of us familiar with Homestuck are familiar with [S] Cascade. This seminal flash animation concludes Homestuck’s fifth act and is still considered by many fans the most important, climactic animation in the comic (even ahead of its successors [S] GAME OVER and [S] Collide).

Many of us may also be familiar with the extraordinary circumstances of the animation’s release. A user called Vivi on the now-defunct MSPA Forums made a commemorative comic documenting the occasion, which, to my view, really captures the essence of the release-mythos. In short: On October 25th, 2011, Homestuck updated after a year-long hiatus with a thirteen-minute flash called [S] Cascade. As fans raced to watch it, the influx of pageviews crashed Newgrounds, the site where the flash was hosted. Hussie temporarily uploaded the flash to megaupload.com. Megaupload.com crashed. The Homestuck website crashed; the Homestuck forum crashed; livestream.com crashed as fans who had “gotten in” tried to stream the video; and, finally, the Homestuck fandom crashed Twitter. [1]

Today, it is hard to imagine Homestuck fans crashing Twitter. Back in 2011, Twitter was a lot smaller, and Homestuck was a lot bigger. But it wasn’t just the long year of building anticipation and the mad scramble to watch the flash which cemented [S] Cascade as one of Homestuck’s most iconic pages. The Flash itself is aesthetically ambitious beyond any previous flash in the comic [2]. Not only does it combine detailed illustrations contributed by fan collaborators with an absolutely fire soundtrack; it manipulates the traditional Homestuck “panel” in a completely unique way.

Among the various stunning moments in the flash, I find Bec Noir’s dramatic release of the red miles one of the most memorable. The YouTuber Precision F-Strike captures my same reaction when I watched [S] Cascade for the first time in this video around 1:20, exclaiming: “My screen is getting bigger! My screen is getting bigger!!” What made this “expanding panel” trick so dazzling upon my first watch? The release of the red miles marks the first instance in which [S] Cascade modifies the traditional size of the Homestuck panel. By no means does it mark the first time the comic as a whole has deviated from its own standard panel size; elongated panels, multiple panels, and links-to-panels have all been regular features of the comic up to this point. However, [S] Cascade is the first page to modify the panel size during a Flash sequence, changing in motion. This novelty, combined with the surprise of the effect, sets the reader up to expect a flash of epic proportions—and [S] Cascade delivers.

After expanding for the red miles, the panel never quite shrinks down to its original size. For the rest of the animation, the plot unfolds within an extended panel-space ripe for dramatic exploitation. At 2:53 the panel shrinks back down to show Bec Noir’s journey to post-reckoning earth, then grows again to get back into the action. At 4:22 it shrinks and breaks into multiple panels to illustrate Bec Noir wreaking destruction in the troll’s session. The proliferation of these moving rectangles mimics a film reel, reminding us that we have technically already seen these events, but underscoring their importance as a conglomeration of memories for the trolls.

Transitioning to the human sessions’ Derse at 4:38, the panel blows up again to its traditional size and adopts an exterior “wallpaper.” This “wallpaper”, as I’ll call it, shifts with the content of the Flash for the next few minutes. It shows the exterior of Derse as Rose and Dave fly through, then it takes on the red and yellow colors of the quest beds; the black and white colors of The Tumor; the red and blue colors of the “mass of two universes” device; and finally the fleur-de-lis pattern of the Felt mansion. During the sequence between Sn0wman and Slick, at 6:08 Slick’s bullet actually pushes out the corner of the traditional frame, extending it back into the full extended-panel space. Then again, during the climactic moment at 10:02, panels grow and shrink and replace others, flashing in time with the soundtrack, drawing the plotlines together and anticipating the finger-frame with which Jade creates the Fenestrated Plane. The animation finishes with John and Jade busting through the Fenestrated Plane, which cycles through the comic’s own panels, culminating the meta-referential panel distortion with this final act of “escaping” from and through the Homestuck panels themselves.

As a result of the extended panel-space established at the release of the red miles, we get to experience the majority of [S] Cascade’s action (and gorgeous artwork) on an enlarged canvas. Just as we go to the cinema to see movies on the “big screen,” Homestuck deploys its own big screen at the start of the flash. Then, all the growing and shrinking between segments contributes to the narrative flow of the flash. The “shrunk” portions leave room for the panel to blow up again once the next climax comes. I think the “wallpaper” effect employed mid-flash is especially effective, as it allows Hussie to continue utilizing the extended panel-space while keeping the frame small in advance of the Sn0wman’s death, at which point it expands again. It’s also important to note how Hussie manipulates our other preconceived expectations, aside from panel size, to enhance the animation’s drama. The website itself gets a special [S] Cascade color scheme and header. In the unfamiliar layout of this Cascade-ified website, readers prepare themselves for the best and the worst—then their expectations are thrown off balance again, for good measure, with the expansion of the panel and the big-screen execution of the flash. With all of this in mind, it’s easy to see how [S] Cascade generated such a massive response.

As you may be aware, as of January 2021 Adobe has discontinued its support for Flash Player, with all major web browsers following suit. This means it’s near impossible to run flash content on any normal computer, and it won’t be long before flash only exists in archival projects. Luckily, the new denizens of the Homestuck website have worked to keep all of the story intact despite the changing media landscape, with some interactive flash pages broken down into videos or screencaps and animations converted to embedded YouTube videos [3]. If you are interested in experiencing Homestuck’s flash content as originally released, a fantastic project called the Unofficial Homestuck Collection has worked to archive the entire comic in a custom browser which natively runs Flash (all you need is 4GB of space on your computer and some time for the assets to download). This archive has been invaluable for my art historical investigation into the comic [4].

As it stands, though—unless forced by a concerned friend to download The Unofficial Homestuck Collection browser—new readers to Homestuck can’t experience the Flash games and animations in their original format. The same goes for folks rereading the comic. In the case of [S] Cascade, significant losses must be mourned. The effect set off by the red miles (the surprise and novelty of your “screen getting bigger”) is hampered by the embedded YouTube format. When you open the [S] Cascade page, now, it presents you with a mid-flash thumbnail, a YouTube play button, and YouTube framing elements such as a watermark and title (pictured above). You can’t avoid already seeing the extended panel-space of the flash page with this new format. Even though the panels within the embed begin in their “shrunk” state and grow to fill out the video frame, the expansion can never be a surprise to the same degree it was in the original Flash format. Flash animations were unornamented by watermarks, titles, and scrubber bars. They were so indistinguishable from regular static panels and gifs in terms of size, image quality, and framing that this gag (pictured below) actually worked. The indistinguishable quality of flash animations from regular gif panels created the necessary environment for [S] Cascade to surprise us by suddenly growing and filling the screen. That drama is inevitably lost in the flash’s new format.

On the other hand, the YouTube format presents some obvious benefits for readers. For one thing, you can now scrub back and forth in the animation, pause it, and even see its timestamps. This is beneficial to any reader who wants to revisit key moments and enormously helpful for someone like me analyzing the animation in detail. I would argue that the inability to pause the animation in its original format contributed to its monumental quality—readers couldn’t pause to breathe, and the comic took merciless control over the pacing—but of course the inability to pause something is also terribly inconvenient. Furthermore, the video format solves an issue that plagued Homestuck readers (including myself) throughout the comic’s lifetime: it’s inaccessibility on mobile devices. Adobe Flash famously failed to transition into the world of mobile touch-screens after Steve Jobs decided not to support it on the iPhone, writing a letter denouncing the software for its errors [5]. With Flash no longer functioning, the reformatted pages in Homestuck are all compatible with mobile devices, meaning readers can now enjoy the comic while lying sideways in bed like we always dreamed. Among other considerations, Adobe Flash was a complete pain to work with [6] for many large-scale projects, and its technical limitations cannot be ignored. On the whole, the death of Flash speaks to a greater evolution in our 21st century media sphere—the growing importance of mobile browsing, the shift from web-hosted games to apps and game launchers, and the increasing “convergence” of platforms into all-purpose devices. While much of Homestuck’s impact and charm resulted from its innovative use of Flash, like the example I’ve given in [S] Cascade, the unique bubble of history in which Flash existed should be fondly remembered and effectively preserved as we continue to navigate the comic’s legacy.

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Happy 4/13! If you liked this post, you can follow the blog on tumblr for updates or, if you don’t frequent tumblr, sign up for the mailing list to receive an email whenever I publish a new mini-essay!

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[1] I unfortunately can’t say I was around for the original [S] Cascade release (I started reading the comic about two years too late). However, even during the Gigapause, what I’ve called its “release mythos” was still widely retold. The events themselves are documented here: https://fanlore.org/wiki/Cascade_(Homestuck). Thank you to @imploder for having saved Vivi’s comic on tumblr!

[2] Hussie wrote about the making of [S] Cascade on his tumblr, now archived here: https://wheals.github.io/tumblr/tumblr.html#about-eoa5-part-1. This gives some insight into the massive undertaking. Previously, the longest animation in Homestuck was [S] Descend, an animation which Hussie calls “Cascade Lite” in his author commentary in Homestuck Book 3. [S] Descend was the first animation to significantly incorporate multiple plotlines moving along at once. Hussie describes this narrative style as an “action-collage” (also in the Book 3 commentary). [S] Descend was also (to my recollection) the first time Hussie significantly incorporated assets from contributing artists into an animation, which he explained was partially to keep the production moving faster. Ironically, during the production of [S] Cascade, organizing contributors turned out to be much more of a hassle—but ultimately Hussie deems the myriad of captivating art styles “a big plus” in his post.

[3] Although some are completely broken, now :(. RIP silly flute refrain.

[4] I seriously cannot overstate how grateful I am for this project.

[5] This article does a great job of explaining the history of Adobe Flash and its eventual demise.

[6] Hussie goes over some of the issues he had with the software in the post referenced at [2]

#essay post #homestuck analysis #media studies #adobe flash #homestuck cascade

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tundrainafrica · 3 years

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Hi Sav! On the latest chapter, there’s one thing bothering me about Hange. This is a genuine question so forgive me if I sound rather harsh when in reality I’m a hardcore Hange-stan. I don’t understand how Hange’s stand on saying that she doesn’t agree with Genocide suddenly shifts to her accepting it later on, along with the entire SC. It just seems off. I also don’t understand what exactly was the meaning of all the SC sacrifices? I’m terribly confused to be brutally honest. :((

Hi Anon,

So sorry for getting into this ask so late but Hange never accepted the genocide. That was why she sacrificed herself in the first place.

The only thing she accepted there was her on death. The only reason she was able to calmly watch what happened next with everyone in the afterlife was because the plane took off.

If the plane crashed, I'm pretty sure we wouldn't have seen Hange and the SC that peaceful in chapter 132.

And to answer this question:

What is the meaning of all the SC's sacrifices?

I think the whole of 132 answers the question. The chapter is titled 'Wings of Freedom' which is another name of the Survey Corps right? Hange was the last member to have died and the last one from the vets to have donned the survey corps insignia so I think the purpose of their deaths was freedom right? First, it was to get the protagonists outside of the walls where their enemies were, then after 132, it was to get the protagonists to the sky where their next enemies were.

So yes, to a degree their deaths still served a purpose. Doesn't mean I'm happy with Hange's death tho

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sevenkittensinatrenchcoat · 3 years

Text

1998 Film Mungojerrie Rewatch Part 3

I’ve had the pictures saved for this for almost a week now, but if you’ve followed the other recent posts on this blog, you can see that I’ve gotten very sidetracked. I’ll probably continue to get sidetracked a lot, but the rewatches will continue.

Now, it’s time once again for The Awful Battle of the Pekes and the Pollicles and The Rest of the Absurdly Long Full Title Rumpus Cat!

But, the twins skipped rehearsals and Jerrie is about to reach peak Doesn’t Know What’s Going On. While Rumpleteazer seems to be able to awkwardly improvise through it with cues from Munkustrap, her brother, with the smaller half of the braincell, is hopelessly lost the entire time.

As everyone gets into place, Jerrie talks to Jemima, asking what’s going on now. She can’t help him now, since there’s no time to explain. He’ll just have to go to stage right and try his best.

And that’s who Mungojerrie ended up with a shoe on his head, boxes on his paws, an no time to change out of his crop top before it got covered in even more garbage, with absolutely no idea why any of this is happening. Jerrie’s probably had weirder nights out than this, but at least he thought he did something cool in all those stories.

We’ve already gone over the routine of Jerrie messing up his barks, but, not only did Munkustrap point to each twin when it was their turn, not only did Teazer also start pointing to help Jerrie out when he messed up, Jerrie points to Teazer on her first turn, demonstrating some comprehension of how this is supposed to work. And he still doesn’t get it.

He barks twice again, despite everyone, himself included, being aware that this wasn’t right.

Munkustrap can’t figure out if Jerrie’s doing it on purpose or if he’s just that stupid. Really, it could be either one. If he is doing this to troll, Teazer wasn’t in on it and is ashamed to have been involved at all.

Munkustrap suggests that Jerrie should just forget it and go get in line with the other toms. There’s no line forming at the moment, so Jerrie still doesn’t get it and conditions are not about to improve. Teazer laments her existence.

While Munkustrap prays to every possible feline deity for strength, Jerrie decides to let Pouncival go ahead of him in the line. He assumes that Pouncival was at the rehearsals and knows what they’re supposed to do, so he’ll just follow him. As a kitten, with parents that would care if he skipped rehearsals, Pouncival probably did attend them. He just really wasn’t paying attention. He also never realized that his costume didn’t quite fit and he couldn’t see out of his shoebox. But, Pouncival always likes to be the first to show up to everything, so he’s the one who volunteered to take the lead. You can see Responsible Adults in the line. Asparagus knows what he’s doing. Even Alonzo or Coricopat probably know, but Pouncival went first in rehearsals because Mungojerrie wasn’t there, so they’re used to it by now.

After a lot of nearly crashing into things and going the wrong way, Munkustrap decides that Pouncival needs to be stopped. Jerrie Doesn’t Know What’s Going On. Why are they stopping? How was he supposed to know that Pouncival was leading them the wrong way? Why can’t they just keep going?

After that fiasco, Asparagus gives Jerrie a talking-to. Jerrie wonders why he’s in more trouble than Pouncival is. All of this is very hard to see because the Scottish Pollicles are hard to ignore. Skimble’s a cat who cannot be ignored by his admission and the camera thinks Misto’s the main character.

Enter Tugger on the bagpipes. Jerrie Doesn’t Know What’s Going On. But, this time, nobody does, except for Tugger himself and Pouncival who was in on it. It’s why he didn’t pay attention during rehearsals. He was starstruck that Tugger wanted to conspire with him of all people.

When everyone gets caught up barking, Jerrie Doesn’t Know What’s Going On, so he’s the only one who’s actually behaving himself. That literally never happens, so the idea that he’s become the well-behaved one probably sends him spiraling into an existential crisis.

Coricopat and Jerrie, apparently independently of one another, because they’re looking opposite directions, both decide that since Doggo Go Pant they should have their tonbues out like panting dogs.

And as everyone cowers in fear of the Great Rumpus Cat, Jerrie Doesn’t Know What’s Going On and just points.

Everything I have to say about Jerrie during the Song of the Jellicles basically applies to Teazer as well. But, the two eventually separate and while Teazer stays up front with the her queen friends, Jerrie wanders off and ends up hanging out with Tantomile. It’s really hard to tell Coricopat and Tantomile appear from a distance, but I’m pretty sure it’s her, because throughout the first part of the Jellicle Ball, Jerrie and Tantomile are consistently right next to each other.

You can see that when everyone gathers together to watch a plane go by and then hiss at the camera, Mungojerrie is between Teazer and Tantomile, because she was who he was standing closest to when they flocked together.

You might be wondering why I keep pointing this out, because two character happening to be standing next to one another for a while doesn’t really mean anything, but I think that this might’ve been supposed to mean something and I’ll explain why.

So, we have this Big Sexy Dance where the younger adult queens (and Etcetera) dance and Tugger leads a group of toms to join them. Jerrie is not one of those toms. He spends the scene sitting on the car, watching from a distance. Jenny’s there too, so I guess he’s taking time to say hi to his mom. What a nice young man!

Skimbledad comes along to join the family as the toms and queens pair off. Alonzo dances with Etcetera and George with Cassandra, though they switch partners for the Can’t Believe It’s a Mating Dance. Since Alonzo and Cassandra already appear to be a thing, I don’t know why they didn’t do this before. Etcetera isn’t supposed to be here and Alonzo just decides that since this dance is already becoming an inappropriate disaster, he might as well make a contribution.

Tugger is with Bomba, which is to be expected. They’re basically Friends With Benefits. Plato and Demeter is a bit random, but since Victoria’s not an option Plato has to go with someone else. Why her and not Tantomile? I mean, that’s left poor Coricopat dancing with his sister while most of the other guys are getting to sexy dance with women they’re not related to.

Well, I think this is because, for whatever reason, whether in-universe or out, Coricopat wasn’t actually supposed to be part of this dance at all. Mungojerrie was. If he’d been cozying up to Tantomile before, he’d obviously pair off with her, leaving Plato and Demeter as the only two left.

Tugger leads a group of toms in another dance later, and it’s all the same toms that he leads here: George, Plato, and Alonzo. But, Coricopat is swapped out for Mungojerrie. What if Mungojerrie was supposed to be one of Tugger’s Boys in both dances? Putting him close to Tantomile earlier in the ball would build up to that and since this particular dance is a bit more sexualized than some of the other dances, having two siblings together wouldn’t have fit the pattern.

During the whole Jellicle Ball, Mungojerrie ends up in the back of the crowd quite a bit with Rumpleteazer is usually right up front, on of the more featured dancers. Since we’ve already seen Jerrie and Teazer’s number, they’re equally skilled dancers, so it’s not like they were trying to hide Drew Varley because he wasn’t good enough. But, combined with his absence from Tugger’s number, I think something was going on there. Varley was playing Mungojerrie on stage during this time, so maybe he was getting tired out from doing the show at night and they decided to lighten the load for him during the filming, but he wasn’t the only one in this situation. Jo Gibb, who played Rumpleteazer was in the exact same situation. This whole thing might just be a bunch of really weird coincidences, for all I know. I don’t doubt the qualifications of anyone involved, but this is odd.

So, pretty that Jerrie dances with Tantomile instead of Coricopat. It makes more sense that way.

Mungojerrie’s back for the ballet, but ballet’s not his style, so He Doesn’t Know What’s Going On. Teazer, on the other hand, appears to be hard at work to impress Victoria, the Ballet Queen of the Jellicles.

Okay, Not Mating Dance Time. All pairs of twin siblings end up together for this bit. Coricopat and Tantomile sit next to each other and stare out into space. Meanwhile, Rumpleteazer is really into watching the Platoria action while Mungojerrie is pretty much already asleep, only looking up occasionally. Both Plato and Jerrie are in the club of Tugger’s Boys and both Victoria and Teazer are part of the Hormonal Trio, so they’re both watching their friends hook up here, which has to an interesting experience.

This bit should’ve been in the Teazer rewatch, but I didn’t catch it until later. When everyone falls asleep in the Cuddle Pile, Tugger wraps his arm around a nearby leg. The lighting at this angle made it hard to see whose leg it was, so I, because I have no life, went frame by frame through this portion of the Jellicle Ball and watched the Cuddle Pile form to see where limbs were ending up. I took a bunch of screenshots of everyone’s journey from pairing off to the Cuddle Pile, because why not do that while I was there. But, I eventually figured out that The Leg is Rumpleteazer’s. She tried to cozy up to Tugger when everyone was pairing off and he appeared to turn her down, but I guess he’s humoring her a bit by cuddling with her in the Cuddle Pile.

Jerrie doesn’t acknowledge Grizabella at all, so I’ll just end on this picture of Tugger’s Boys because of my previous claims. George is hiding, but Coricopat and Jerrie definitely swapped out.

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lesbianlotties · 3 years

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supercut of us - The Old Guard (2020) - TOGFemslashFortnight

@tog-femslashfortnight - Saturday's Prompt: Free Choice

This is especially for everyone at the TOG Femslash Discord <3

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: The Old Guard (Movie 2020) Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Andy | Andromache the Scythian/Quynh | Noriko, Andy | Andromache of Scythia & Nile Freeman & Quynh | Noriko Characters: Andy | Andromache of Scythia, Quynh | Noriko, Nile Freeman Additional Tags: TOGFemSlashFortnight, Post-Canon, Canon Compliant, ish, Headcanon, Friendship, Team Bonding, World Travel, Fluff and Humor, Tooth-Rotting Fluff Words: 3517

Inspired by 57 headcanons shared on the TOG Femslash Discord... (which you can find along with their creators here)

After Andy and Quynh are reunited they decide to travel the world with Nile. Andy deals with her uncertain mortality, Quynh deals with the twenty-first century, and Nile... deals with both of them. It's fun, exciting, sweet and never boring.

There was just something about the way Quynh was holding Andy’s hand, which was perfectly complemented by the exact pressure of Andy’s hold, but defied by the purposeful pattern that Quynh’s thumb was drawing on the back of Andy’s hand. Then, of course, there was also something else to be said about the particular arch of Andy’s eyebrow, or just a flash of a frown in Quynh’s face, followed by Andy biting her lip, and answered with a brief pout from Quynh. Which lead to-

“What are you guys doing?” Nile blurted out, finally exasperated by the way the two women had been silently staring at each other for four minutes doing nothing but exchanging microexpressions and holding hands. “Did you guys changed your mind?” she tilted her head.

“No,” Quynh replied slowly, “I was just asking Andromache if she’d like me to stab her just once more to check if she is still immortal.”

Andy rolled her eyes, not very happy to be reminded about the fact that she still couldn’t figure out if her immortality was back or not. She had scars now, but still healed much faster than she should. It was complicated. “We’re ready to go, Nile,” Andy grumbled, as they finally followed the younger woman to the plane. With just one look Quynh had let her know she wasn’t feeling particularly great about being locked in that small plane for a long period of time. Andy was comforting, and reassuring, let her know that she disliked it just as much. “It’s safe though, trust me, I’ve only crashed one without meaning to once, or twice. And it was back when they were considerably less safe,” she added.

“Without meaning to,” Quynh shook her head fondly, “And that wouldn’t even be you at your worst now would it, my heart? You love falling from high places.”

Before Andy could protest, Nile was exclaiming, “Oh you have to tell me about that Quynh.”

“Not again,” Andy groaned, falling into her seat in the plane.

Once inside, it was obvious that Quynh’s anxiety of the reduced and unfamiliar place was kicking in again. With a smile as kind and bright as ever, Nile offered her her phone and headphones and said, “You know what I think could help? Music. And I have just the right-”

“Just the right kind of meaningless, over simplified, repetitive-”

“Oh, excuse me, I forgot classic rock was the only valid form of music. Andy, you’re a cliche grandma.”

“I told you to stop calling me that.”

“Quynh agrees with me!”

Their always-loving, never-ending bickering stopped for a moment, so they could both look at the third member of their group looking for her evaluation of the argument. Quynh, who had been so completely engrossed in Nile’s favorite playlist of pop music that she had missed the take-off of the plane entirely, only looked up when she took notice of the silence around her. “Hm, what?” she took off one earbud, looking from one face to another and nodded, “Yes, my heart, you are too old to understand. And this is actually really good.” She went back to her music and, by the end of the flight, she may or may not have accidentally started listening to a jazz music playlist, and ended up absolutely loving that too.

During the first hour of their hike, Nile tried to remember that she was exploring the world with the two oldest women on Earth, women who could teach her absolutely everything, women with knowledge so invaluable it was difficult to comprehend. Women who, also, sometimes acted like annoying children.

“You slipped on a little bit of mud and broke your skull when you fell down, that’s worse,” Andy argued.

“Not as bad as dying because you failed to balance your own axe on your head! Even after I told you not to do that, Andy,” Quynh insisted.

Teasing each other like that was as natural as breathing, but that little detail of Quynh calling her just Andy, it had the oldest woman narrowing her eyes and suspecting it was better to give up the fight. “Anyway, it was Nile who shot herself in the foot for no reason at all,” she mumbled, attempting to change the subject.

Except, “Yeah, but it didn’t kill me,” Nile raised her hands in faked innocence while the three of them started laughing. As annoying as it could be to travel with the oldest couple on Earth, it was also a lot of fun.

Quynh had opted to stay behind to rest and look over their camp, so it was just Andy and Nile slowly riding their horses around.

“You’re doing great, kid,” Andy sent a smile her way, “Just a little more practice and you can join me on the Mongol Derby next year.” The younger woman replied with a genuinely frightened expression. She was just learning how to do that, she didn’t need to think about the absurd things that Andy, who apparently had loved and befriended horses before anyone had even thought about domesticating them, would do. Still, she knew she’d probably end up joining her and being dragged into whatever chaos that experience would entail. “I hope Quynh will join too, she’d be amazing. Though, I didn’t tell you this but, she used to be terrified of horses,” Andy finished with a soft chuckle.

Nile laughed along with her and as a reflex she looked back in the general direction of where they’d last seen Quynh. When she looked back at Andy she was surprised to find a not entirely unfamiliar look of melancholy on her friend’s face. Before Quynh came back, that was Andy’s usual look, but it had been a while since Nile had seen her like that. She took the risk to say, “I can’t even imagine what it must have been like for you, when you lost her.”

For a second, Andy looked surprised to hear those words. “Good,” was the first thing she replied, wholeheartedly hoping the young woman would never even have to imagine that sort of pain, that absolutely devastating loss of having your universe ripped to shreds, decades of looking over your shoulder to find out your better half is no longer there.

But, on second thought, she remembered how closed off she had been when they all first met Nile, and in a matter of months Quynh was back and everything had changed too quickly. Perhaps she owed her some part of the story.

“I never really stopped looking for her, you know?” Andy took a deep breath, her heart warmed by the genuine interest in Nile’s gentle eyes. “Just weeks before we found you I was still trying… It was hell though, back then, when it first happened. I got my revenge and a little too late I found out there was no one alive who could tell me where she was. Then I had to accept she was impossible to find, and accept I’d never be the same again. I shave this whole thing off,” Andy ran a hand through her hair, making the most of that brief moment to try to soothe her raging emotions, and remind herself she was just remembering, and this time Quynh really was back, waiting for her nearby. “I got into piracy for a couple of years, still bent on revenge and staying closer to, you know, the ocean. And a lot of regrets.”

“It brought all of us here though, right? She’s back,” Nile added with a smile that she hoped could cheer up her friend at least slightly. It worked though. Andy, not for the first time, found herself not only endeared by the young woman’s optimism, but surprisingly agreeing with her.

This time it was Andy and Nile waiting for Quynh by the beach. The island was just big enough for the three of them to hide without worrying that someone would figure out if was Quynh it was who had just killed one of the wealthiest men in the world. When she arrived at their spot on the beach and took a seat by the fire, she was still impeccably dressed, barely a hair out of place.

“Well, that felt good,” she sighed, getting comfortable in the sand, “Also, you’re welcome. Unless you had stock in his company. Actually, I don’t know how that works. It doesn’t matter to me, and I bet it doesn’t matter to any part of him left.”

Despite Nile’s shocked, slightly disturbed, and somewhat confused expression, Andy smiled, completely smitten by the woman beside her. “Take a look,” she told her lover, nodding her head toward the sky, not taking her eyes of Quynh, “Beautiful, isn’t it.”

“Mesmerizing as always,” Quynh replied in a whisper, leaning back on her hands to look up at the stars above them as the two of them always loved to do. “Always changing…”

“Wait, what?”

Smiling at the younger woman’s confusion, Quynh added, “Hey, Nile, bonfires are perfect for some good stories. What do you think, are you interested?”

Nile agreed immediately and Quynh expertly launched herself into dozens of epic tales that, with the power of only her words, took the three of them all over the world and all over history. She reminded Andy that this wasn’t the first time they took care of greedy dictators. She talked them through the discovery of lands for the very first time. She brought legends back from the dead and left Nile speechless. She even indulged herself in sharing one or two of her favorite stories of Andy and her, including her time spent as a sculptor with her obvious muse being Andy, and also all the myths she personally started with one of the many special swords Andy singlehandedly created for her.

A very important part of the stories was the interaction between Andy and Quynh. It didn’t take long for Nile to understand how whenever Quynh hesitated on some part of her magnificent stories, Andy was always there ready to provide the missing piece of the puzzle. It might have to do with some part of Quynh’s mind perpetually lost to the unforgiving ocean. But, judging by the way it looked like Quynh expected Andy to fill in the blanks for her, it suggested that this habit of sharing their memories as one wasn’t new at all.

Quynh was an expert in the art of storytelling. She knew exactly how to tease the knowledge only she had about Andy’s life before immortality, including their birthdays, and yet keep it all still a mystery. She knew just how to bring Nile close to tears with the tale of the Scythian warriors’ welcoming arms giving Andy her first family, and her longest-lasting name, and yet keep to herself the memory of it being just the last name Lykon got to call her.

When Nile can’t help herself anymore and falls asleep, Andy half expected Quynh to be just as tired, but she wasn’t all that surprised when instead the love of her life stood up and offered her a hand. “Are you joining me?” Quynh asked, nodding her head toward the sea, the gentle waves crashing on the shore.

“Are you sure?” Andy asked, but immediately took the hand offered and followed the other woman’s lead in taking off their clothes and walking to the shore.

“It’s terrifying, I admit that. I wouldn’t dare do it without you,” Quynh looked unusually bashful and vulnerable for a moment, the moonlight catching the precious light in her eyes just right, “But there’s just something about it… I need to prove I’m stronger, you know?”

“I am completely certain of that fact, my love,” Andy replied with a smile, taking Quynh’s hand and going into the water with her. And she meant her words. Five hundred years of torture beyond human comprehension, and Quynh was still here, still alive, still herself. There was nothing in this world stronger than her, Andy knew that as a fact.

Taking some time to finally stand still and relax in a safe house was a great idea for several reasons. Firstly, Nile would be lying if she said she didn’t miss a stable internet connection, which she made quick use of to sign up for an online Art History course. Plus, the isolated charming little cabin near the woods was the only place where Andy could possibly get away with adopting an actual wild bear cub.

“You stole a baby bear?!” Nile exclaimed, lowering the sword and giving up her training for a moment, because the sight of Andy arriving at the house carrying a bear in her arms was a little too much to easily comprehend.

“She lost her mother,” Andy shrugged, as if it was the most common thing to go around the woods picking up orphan bears to raise like pets.

“She does this often,” Quynh mentioned to Nile, lowering her own sword and instead picking up her recurve bow, “Personally, I prefer big cats. But it’s cute, isn’t it?”

Nile narrowed her eyes and looked at Andy. “I mean… look, that’s not normal. I love penguins, they’re my favorites and I’d love to have one, but they’re not pets. Dogs are my favorite pets, that’s normal!” Before she could get to her arguments about bears not being fit for keeping as pets, she was interrupted by Andy’s newest friend running toward her and instinctively hugging her leg. “Oh… okay, fine, it’s cute but…” But this was her life now, and she wasn’t exactly complaining.

Life in the various safe houses they stayed was fun, pleasant, and a very particular kind of peaceful that was only possible when living with actual immortal warriors. It was, at least, never boring. And sometimes it was also surprisingly sweet.

Nile had the brilliant idea of introducing Quynh to many, many things about modern culture. This included a quick review of the twentieth century, and Quynh reacted horrified by world wars, fascinated by 1920’s style, and skeptical about the moon landing. This, somewhat accidentally, involved introducing her to hitmen, leverage, other shows and movies that she passionately loved or disliked, and it was hilarious to watch Andy and Quynh bicker about how attractive or definitely-not-attractive the actors and actresses were. And there was also the occasional video game. Though Quynh definitely developed a love-hate relationship with Candy Crush, often saying to Nile “I’m your friend, your family, I teach you archery tricks that no other person alive knows, and this is how you repay me? You give me this devilishly addictive little game?!”

Later, Nile was pleased to find out that both women were skilled in doing hairstyles for her, and, even better, since they had learned with Lykon thousands of years ago, they knew ancient styles that thoroughly impressed the young woman. Cooking was, more often than not, a struggle for the three of them. Baking, on the other hand, was a wonderful experience. Maybe Andy didn’t do much beyond distracting Quynh and eating the majority of everything they made, even before it hit the oven. But it was still a good time and, judging by the way Andy nearly burst into tears whenever Quynh offered her any sweet pastry, it was easy to guess there was some sort of meaningful history behind it.

Nile was also lucky enough to witness the moment Quynh found out that same-sex marriage was a perfectly legal thing in some places. Maybe she couldn’t marry the love of her immortal life as soon as she would have liked, maybe they would need to fake a few documents or even try to take advantage of some odd American laws, but she couldn’t wait for the moment it’d finally be official. Andy perfectly understood how she felt. Maybe they had absolutely no need for anyone or anything to certify their love for each other, but it would surely be fun to get to do something that for centuries was denied to them. That was partly the reason why Andy had attended college a handful of times, as soon as it was legal for women to do so, just to proudly get kicked out.

As perfect as the dynamic between the three of them was, they all needed their moments to themselves, and Nile had learned when to give the couple the space they needed. Plus, she also got time to herself. This entire life was a, literally, never-ending adventure, but it was necessary to take the time to breathe, take a step back, and think about things. One of Nile’s favorite things to do to achieve some peace of mind was journaling. Truthfully, it started as a desperate attempt to write letters to her family that she would never send. But it soon became a helpful habit that kept her grounded. And also busy, on those times when Andy and Quynh disappeared for a handful of hours at a time.

It was starting to happen less and less, but it was still a common occurrence for Quynh to wake up feeling the weight of the entire ocean on her chest. She’d wake up startled, a desperate scream already halfway through her throat, and already halfway prepared to die again. Some nights were harder than others, some nights it took several minutes for Andy to convince Quynh she was safe and alive and far from the sea, and get her to calm down. But then, of course, there were some easier nights, when the warmth of Andy’s body beside her would quickly bring Quynh back to her reality. She’d be shaking, frightened, afraid. But she’d turn to Andy, even with tears and in her eyes and smile in relief.

“Hey, it’s okay, I’m here, you’re safe Quynh,” Andy immediately whispered in the softest tone she could manage, wrapping her arms around her lover, bring her closer, letting her find comfort in her touch and the sound of her heartbeat.

After a few moments, with her face pressed against Andy’s chest, Quynh wondered, “I’m sorry, did I wake you up?”

“Nothing to be sorry about,” Andy promised, kissing the top of her head, “And no, as a matter of fact, you didn’t. You fell asleep and I was just reading.” That got Quynh’s attention, getting her to finally meet Andy’s eyes. “It’s been a long time but… The Odyssey, remember that one?”

“Your favorite,” Quynh said softly, granting the other woman a genuine even if small smile, before cuddling closer to her. “Read it to me?” she asked, knowing nothing would make her feel safer, feel better than that. This moment, this connection brought by holding each other tightly, reminded both of them of a time in their past. Shortly after losing Lykon, they would embrace each other just like this, usually after a battle, and it was the only way to soothe their fears, it was a silent promise. The painful memory was gently replaced by Andy’s words recounting her favorite story, a different reassurance, a sweet gesture, and everything Quynh needed at the moment.

“You,” Andy said, and kissed her, “are wearing my shirt,” she added, kissing her again.

“Well,” Quynh returned the kiss, “It’s obviously not mine, Andromache,” she teased her, and bit her lip. Pleased with Andy’s eager reaction, Quynh continued kissing her, and let her hands start roaming her lover’s body. She was sitting on Andy’s lap, always more comfortable there than anywhere else. She kept one hand on the other woman’s short hair, since both equally loved it when she played with her hair, and with the fingers of her other hand she caressed Andy’s jaw, her neck, shoulders, and finally arrived at her upper arm. Then she pulled back from the kiss just enough to say, “You have a new scar.”

“Do I?” Andy replied and when she tried to go back to another kiss she was gently rejected.

“I notice, you know?” Quynh added. She had a somewhat complicated relationship with Andy’s scars. They represented a new and interesting part of her lover for her to cherish, so she enjoyed checking up on these small changes every now and then. But it was impossible to ignore that they stood for the love of her life getting hurt, and being, more or less, mortal. She still healed, slowly but surely, and certainly faster than regular people, but… Before her thoughts spiraled out of control, Andy’s gentle hand on her cheek brought her back to their conversation. She had been mindlessly tracing one of Andy’s scars with her fingertips, a new habit that turned out to be comforting for both of them.

“I know,” Andy said with a small smile that was quickly returned. There was more she wanted to say, both of them, but in their case, it could perfectly well be said silently. Starting with resting their foreheads together, taking a deep breath, and holding each other just a little tighter. It was enough, because their love was loud enough to fill the silence for thousands, and thousands of years.

#you guys said 57 headcanon i said YES #watch as i make a mess of myself trying to explain how andy is immortal but gets scars??? why oppossing hcs why??#anyway i really hope you guys like it!!!#the old guard #andy x quynh #andromaquynh #immortal wives #andromache the scythian #quynh #nile freeman #tog #the old guard fanfic #TOGFemslashFortnight

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sanderssidesfanfiction · 3 years

Text

Royal Growing Pains - Chapter Thirty Two

Warnings: Homophobia, transphobia, misgendering, sympathetic Deceit

Royal Growing Pains Tag

Logan was waiting for them back at the castle, and Roman groaned as he got out of the car. “Can I at least change before we start dancing until our feet fall off?” he griped.

“No,” Logan said. “You will need to practice dancing in a binder anyway, unless you want to change in between the wedding and the reception.”

“I can’t jump around in my binder, though,” Roman whined.

“Then we won’t teach you any dances that require you to jump around,” Logan said simply. “You and Damien will follow me. We need to catch up on lost time.”

Roman groaned but Damien just wrapped his arm around Roman’s shoulder. “It’ll be okay, Roman. We can have some fun with dance practice.”

“You’re just glad you don’t have to do any studying this week,” Roman grumbled.

“Damien, that reminds me, I will not be allowing that extension on your paper,” Logan tossed over his shoulder.

“You seriously expect me to turn in a paper on my honeymoon?!” Damien exclaimed, jaw agape.

Logan turned around and shut Damien’s mouth with a click. “You’ll attract flies if you keep your mouth open like that,” he said succinctly. “And you can always turn it in before the day it is due. But I will not be granting you an extension on that paper, seeing as how you’ve had two months to work on its thesis and research.”

“God, I hate you sometimes,” Damien growled.

“Another crack like that and your grade automatically drops ten percent,” Logan simply replied.

“Ten—?!” Damien cut himself off, taking a deep breath. “Right. I’m seriously regretting telling my parents I liked you in terms of private tutoring.”

Logan actually smiled at that and replied, “Thank you. If you wish, I can practice with Roman while you work on your paper for an hour?”

Damien hesitated. Roman nudged him. “Go study. I certainly don’t want you writing an essay on our honeymoon.”

“Fine,” Damien huffed, kissing Roman’s cheek. “But I expect no funny business with Logan while I’m gone. He may be polyamorous, but I have a tendency to be territorial.”

“No kidding?” Roman snarked. “Relax, Damien. I don’t have eyes for him, and if he had eyes for me, he would have helped me escape the first night I was here, and whisked me away from this life, which I am taking a shine to.”

Logan rolled his eyes. “Say goodbye for now already.”

Roman laughed and kissed Damien on the cheek back, before following Logan to the ballroom. “You seem a little tense,” Roman noted.

“You obviously haven’t been watching the news, if you’re as relaxed as you are,” Logan noted.

Roman tensed. “Why? What happened?”

“Well, your country may be falling into Civil War if Remus cannot win the Parliament over in a meeting today,” Logan said casually.

“What?!” Roman squawked.

“Well, he wants the throne, your parents are unwilling to give up the throne, and it’s up to Parliament to kick them out. But from what I gather about your brother, he would gather up an army to storm the castle before he let your parents rule another day,” Logan supplied. “It won’t be easy to win over the more...conservative of the Parliament members, either.”

Roman swore under his breath. “I hate that it comes to this,” he sighed. “Why can’t life be easy?”

“Because, Your Highness, being queer automatically sets your settings to ‘Hard Mode’ when you’re born,” Logan said, shaking his head. “One day, that will not be the case. But that day is not today.”

“Tell me about it,” Roman griped. “So, are we doing the waltz or are we doing something else?”

Logan listed a few different slow dances they could try, none of which Roman could easily conjure images of. Every time he proposed a dance, Logan either vetoed it or went through the first eight steps and Roman immediately took it back. When fifteen minutes later, they could not come up with a single dance that Roman felt confident he could do, Logan sighed. “The waltz it is, then.”

They fell into formation and slowly began to move across the dance floor. It felt weird to waltz with someone who wasn’t Damien, but Roman, to his credit, didn’t have to look at his feet once. “So my brother may be interested in getting to know you,” Roman said.

“I have heard,” Logan said. “I have also heard that Patton and Virgil will be dancing at your wedding.”

“I have also heard Virgil may dance with you, in addition to Patton,” Roman said.

“Your brother better be prepared to acquire a harem,” Logan said, nothing changing in his facial expression or inflection as he said the words.

Roman guffawed and nearly fell over as Logan took their next step but Roman didn’t. “Oh, god! That’s certainly a visual!” Roman laughed. “The tabloids would go crazy over the King’s consort, and his consort’s consort, and his consort’s consort’s consort. Consort no longer sounds like a word.”

Logan smirked just a tiny bit and Roman narrowed his eyes. “You said that to make me laugh on purpose.”

“You need to focus on dancing more,” Logan simply replied. “Focus on the steps, or you’ll trip Damien up while talking. And neither of you want a twisted ankle or a broken wrist on your honeymoon.”

“You. Are. Evil,” Roman said, glaring at Logan.

“I do try to imbue chaos into my life that I can watch every once in a while,” Logan said smugly.

Roman sighed and they continued to dance. “You have any interest in my brother? Genuinely?” Roman asked.

“I believe so,” Logan said. “Even if that attraction is merely aesthetic at the moment, I would at the very least appreciate a friendship. I don’t know where his romantic attraction lies...nor do I want you to tell me. I’d rather hear it from him. But I can’t deny the interest I have at the prospect.”

Roman nodded. “Well, Remus could do worse than someone like you,” he said. “You may not be my top pick, but I don’t really...think about my brother in terms of who he should or shouldn’t date.”

“I find that people who actually do that are fairly miserable as they try to micromanage things out of their control,” Logan said simply.

Roman agreed, and they swept around the ballroom again and again until Logan could make Roman laugh and he could still follow the steps. When they took a break at the hour mark, Damien walked in with a pained smile. “Well, Logan, you have a new paper in your inbox,” Damien said. “I would recommend you not read it until I resend it on the plane ride to our honeymoon destination, however.”

“Cutting it down to the wire, as ever,” Logan sighed. “You disappoint me, Damien.”

“You gave me an hour, and I’m spending as much time as I can with Roman. Whenever we have time, I will go through it on the plane,” Damien defended.

“Sure you wouldn’t rather join the ‘Mile High Club’?” Logan asked.

Damien turned red. “Don’t ask that again,” he sputtered. “I am your prince, I expect a modicum of respect from you.”

“Only a modicum?” Logan asked. “You really need to set your standards higher, Your Highness.”

Roman snorted and Damien just sighed, hanging his head. “I’m done,” he muttered. “I am done with today.”

“Not yet you’re not,” Logan said, clapping his hands. “You still need to practice the waltz.”

Damien rolled his eyes but began to dance with Roman. Roman settled into step closer with Damien than he had with Logan, and felt content to let Damien lead the dance, while with Logan, Roman never relaxed quite this much. “How are you feeling, my love?” Damien asked.

“Better,” Roman said, and he honestly meant it. He felt settled, relaxed, good. And he couldn’t remember the last time he felt quite this way.

Damien smiled. “I am glad to hear it,” he said. “Dinner will be quieter tonight, I expect, and I, for one, am looking forward to being able to finish it without worrying about anyone starting to shout.”

“That makes two of us,” Roman said. “I haven’t really enjoyed sparring with my mother every night.”

“Nor I,” Damien said.

They swept around the ballroom once, twice more, and then Roman had to stop because his feet hurt and he was feeling short of breath. He slid to the floor and groaned. “I’m not looking forward to the whole night just being dance after dance after dance.”

“Even if they’re all with me?” Damien asked, putting a hand to his chest even as he grinned. “You wound me, my love.”

Roman shrugged. “I just need to give my feet some rest,” he said. “And Remus will probably insist on slinging me across the dance floor at least once.”

“You...you mean swing you across?” Damien asked, frowning.

“No, I do mean sling. He’ll get me on my stomach and fling me across the floor, destroying all in my path like a curling stone,” Roman laughed.

“I’ll keep him preoccupied, then,” Logan muttered. “We do not need complete and utter pandemonium, or wine spilled on your suit. Remy would have all our heads.”

“Oh, god, that’s a horrifying thought,” Damien said, swallowing hard.

The two continued to talk, but Roman let the words wash over him as he pulled out his phone, googling the news. Or at least, he tried to, before Logan snatched the phone from his hands. “Hey!” Roman exclaimed.

“No obsessively refreshing the page while your brother is in session with Parliament,” Logan said definitively. “You refreshing the results over and over will not change the outcome of the meeting.”

“Oh, he got them all off their asses this quickly? He means business,” Damien whistled. “I like him.”

Roman glowered at Damien and Damien furrowed his brows. “As a person, my love, and certainly not more than you.”

“I’ll allow it...for now,” Roman said, giving Damien a sideways glance. “Logan, my phone.”

Logan pocketed the phone and crossed his arms.

Roman grunted as he stood, holding his hand out. “My phone,” he said sternly.

Logan did nothing.

Roman leapt towards Logan, sending them both crashing to the floor. Roman tried to subdue Logan and get his phone back, but Logan was squirmier than he let on. “Hey! Gimme my phone!” Roman exclaimed.

“I’d sooner perish by the King’s hand!” Logan exclaimed.

Roman kept wrestling with Logan until someone grabbed him by the scruff of his neck and pulled him away. “Logan, give him the damn phone,” Virgil growled. “Half the castle could hear him yelling, and the King’s in a meeting.”

Logan scowled but handed the phone over. Roman proceeded to obsessively refresh the page five times in a minute, before groaning. “Another hour? Seriously?! I hate Parliament. Why do they take so long?!”

“The timeless question,” Damien said sagely. “No one really knows the answer.”

Logan huffed. “Perhaps the two of you should head to dinner,” he said, checking his phone. “We have been here two hours, after all.”

“Really?” Roman asked. “Time flies.”

“Especially when you’re wrestling with your fiancé’s tutor, apparently,” Damien grumbled. “When does Father’s meeting end, Virgil?”

“Fifteen minutes, Your Highness. He will be coming down for dinner shortly after,” Virgil advised.

“Then we really should get going,” Damien sighed. “Ah, well. I’m sure we can entertain ourselves for fifteen minutes, can’t we, Roman?”

“I suppose we’ll have to,” Roman sighed dramatically, rolling his eyes. “Either that or we’ll have to call on your mother and she’ll have to help us.”

Damien hummed. “I don’t suppose she’d be highly amused. Usually around this time of day she appreciates calling her friends, or settling in with a book for the hour before dinner. To interrupt her is to ensure a slow, but certain, death.”

“Yikes,” Roman said, grimacing. “Yeah, not gonna bother her.”

The two of them walked to the dining room, and took seats at the lone table. “It’s nice and quiet,” Roman breathed, almost afraid to interrupt the comfortable silence with his thoughts.

“Indeed,” Damien said. “It feels like we only rarely get time for peace.”

Roman nodded, idly opening his phone and bolting to his feet. “Holy shit!” he yelped.

“There it goes,” Damien sighed, chuckling. “What?”

“Parliament is voting on Remus becoming King!” Roman exclaimed. “They said it was going to be another hour!”

“Apparently someone got sick of them talking, huh? Should we watch?” Damien asked.

“No need,” Roman said, beaming. “He already got the majority! He’s well on his way to two-thirds in favor!”

“Good,” Damien said. “I would have hated to have to go to war against your parents. I would have done so, of course, but it’s still rather unsavory.”

Roman laughed, sitting down next to Damien again, considerably happier. The Queen walked in, humming. “Good news?” she asked.

“Remus is gonna be King!” Roman said. “Parliament agreed! Well, technically they need to finish voting, but he already got over sixty percent in favor. He’s gonna make it.”

“Worth celebrating,” the Queen said appreciatively. “I imagine the first thing he’ll do when you two are back in the country is schedule his coronation.”

“Can’t wait!” Roman squealed. “This is going to be epic! And hopefully my parents will leave us alone!”

“I’ll make them if they don’t do it on their own,” the Queen laughed. Her smile dropped and she turned deadly serious. “Diana will quickly learn; when you mess with the Rose, you get the thorns.”

Damien groaned. “Mother, that was terrible.”

“But effective at gaining a reaction,” the Queen said with a little smile and a wink at Roman. “I have to teach your fiancé which buttons he can and can’t push, after all.”

Roman laughed while Damien rolled his eyes. “And the first lesson you are going for is puns?” he asked distastefully.

“I like puns,” Roman said.

Damien’s eyes widened and he blew out a breath. “Lord help me, I’m going to suffer so many dad jokes in the years to come,” he muttered.

“Yep!” Roman said, entirely unashamed.

The King walked in and looked around. “I see I didn’t miss dinner, at least,” he said. “How is everyone?”

“Pretty good,” Roman said at the same time Damien said, “I’m suffering immensely.”

The King laughed. “What did you do, dear?” he asked the Queen.

“I made a pun,” the Queen said with a pleased smile. “Someone was less than amused, while someone else took great enjoyment from it.”

“Ah,” the King said knowingly. “That explains everything.”

Dinner passed uneventfully, other than Patton making one pass at Damien’s clumsiness before Damien glared him into backing off. Roman enjoyed the meal (good old fashioned fish and chips—Patton must have known how to cook everything), but soon enough he was yawning at the table. “Dear, you should go upstairs and rest,” the Queen said. “You’ve had quite the eventful day.”

“I’ll be fine,” Roman insisted, even as he yawned again.

“No, my love, go and rest,” Damien insisted. “Besides, I have matters that I’d like to speak to my parents about without you around to hear.”

“What? Why?” Roman said. “Is there something you can say to them that you can’t to me?”

“It’s vows related,” Damien said simply.

“And I’m gone!” Roman exclaimed, standing up quickly. “Good night, everyone, I’ll see you in the morning.”

Everyone bid him goodnight and he walked out as he received a call from Remus. “Hey, what’s up?” he asked as he answered the phone.

“Just wanted to check on you,” Remus sighed. “I’ve been talking with my future advisors all day and could use a break.”

“I’ve been okay,” Roman said. “I’m exhausted, so I’m hitting the sack early tonight.”

“Good idea. I would, but I’m ordering our parents to move all essential items out of the castle before I return from your wedding, so. I have quite a bit of arguing ahead of me tonight,” Remus sighed.

“But you’ll be here tomorrow for the rehearsal?” Roman asked hopefully.

“Of course. Wouldn’t want to be anywhere else,” Remus assured. “Sleep well, Roman. I won’t keep you any longer.”

“Good night, Remus. I love you,” Roman said.

“I love you too.”

They hung up and Roman made his way to his room, stripping himself of clothes and slipping on a nightgown after coughing when he removed his binder. He was so ready for the whole wedding thing to be over and done with. He was sure he might want to savor tomorrow when Remus was actually here, but for now, all he wanted was to sleep, dream about nothing, and let himself relax before the chaos that would be the wedding rehearsal tomorrow.

#roceit #roman sanders #deceit sanders #sanders sides fanfiction #royal growing pains #our creations

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your-frenchblondgirl · 3 years

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Marvel's Loki: 12 Easter Eggs, Hidden Meanings, & Plot Details From Trailer

The God of Mischief is up to no good again.

Marvel President Kevin Feige unveiled the first in-depth look into Tom Hiddleston's debut solo series, Loki, which will follow the consequences of the 2012 version of everyone's favorite horned anti-hero as he makes a timeline-disrupting escape. From references to other Asgardians to apocalyptic alternate futures, Loki's trailer is full of hints to the show's mysterious plot.

Without further adieu, let's break it all down. Here are 12 things from the Loki trailer — including Easter eggs and hidden references — that you (probably) missed.

Endgame Effects

The first 25 seconds of the trailer contextualize where we are, and how we got here.

To recap, Avengers: Endgame's time heist was not a perfect mission. When the team of Tony Stark, Captain America, Hulk, and Ant-Man travel to the events of 2012's The Avengers, they successfully obtain the Soul and Mind Stones without problem, but fail to capture the Space Stone. After being knocked aside by an irate Hulk (stairs!), the Tesseract pops out of its briefcase, landing at Loki's shackled feet. Behaving like a true God of Mischief, Loki picks up the cube and dips through a portal.

From there, our solo series begins.

Iron Man Callback

Loki crash lands in a desert, located in what appears to be Mongolian-era China, considering the attire of the three people that approach him. Desert crash landings are no stranger to the MCU, as fans will recognize this moment as emulating Tony Stark's crashed escape from the Ten Rings' cave in Mark I of the Iron Man suit.

Owen Wilson

He may not have looked like him, but he sure sounded like him.

Owen Wilson makes his first appearance as a character that goes unnamed on-screen, but closed captions reveal him to be Mobius M. Mobius. What a name! Mobius does not have a rich comic history, but he has been involved in the prosecution of the Fantastic Four before. Interesting timing, don't you think?

Mobius takes a shackled Loki down an elevator, saying he's bringing him somewhere to talk. Loki, donning a Time Variance Authority prison jumpsuit, claims he doesn't like to talk, but Mobius immediately calls his bluff.

Here, Loki is a prisoner of the TVA for his time crimes. This group of timeline FBI officers are tasked with ensuring that everything operates as planned. When 2012 Loki escaped with the Tesseract, he essentially broke the timeline laws, and is now being remprimanded for it.

The Minutemen Meet Mysterious Figure

The TVA's cybernetic police force make their first appearance in what looks to be ancient China. Known as the Minutemen, these guys are tasked with carrying out TVA laws and directly deal with individuals that have interfered with the flow of time.

Here, the Minutemen are searching for someone, or something, in a past time period. If it is indeed ancient China, this would put it at the same location Loki crash landed into at the beginning of the trailer.

While the Minutemen execute their search, a mysterious cloaked figure drops a lantern on surrounding grass, and the smoke brings at least one Minuteman to his knees. There's no telling who this mystery man is, but if reports are to be believed, it could be Jonathan Majors's Kang the Conqueror debuting ahead of his lead antagonist role in Ant-Man and the Wasp: Quantumania. Kang has been rumored to be introduced in Loki for months, and there seems to be more tangible evidence of his existence in future frames.

More on that later.

"Glorious."

The MCU is stacked with notable quotes, but there's no one that delivers a Shakespearean line quite like the God of Mischief.

In just one word, Loki calls back to his character-defining statement from 2012's The Avengers: "I am Loki, of Asgard. And I am burdened with glorious purpose."

Oh, and this line is uttered in Stark Tower. Evident by the particular mirror design, it looks like Loki will return back to the timeline he escaped from.

The Three Faces of the TVA

Twice in this trailer we see three figures displayed in an area of prominence.

The three faces first appear behind Gugu Mbatha-Raw's high-ranking TVA executive, who is presiding over Loki's trial. The faces appear once again a couple of frames later, this time attached to full-scale bodies in the form of massive statues.

The faces have been speculated to belong to the Time-Keepers, three time-travelers who head the TVA. The trio, and the TVA organisation, have had disputes with none other than Kang the Conqueror, often fighting over temporal territory across the universe. Loki's timeline meddling might have disrupted Chronopolis, Kang's metropolitic city of conquest that combines all eras of the Conqueror's rule. If Kang is indeed an enemy of the TVA and Loki meddled with his city, Loki's may be in for a whole world of hurt.

Flashback Failures

Wilson's Mobius shows a shackled Loki footage of the God of Mischief's 2012 failed conquest of Earth, to which Loki disapproves. This could begin Loki's identity stuggles, which will be a central theme of the series.

Similar to how General Ross showed the Avengers their past destructions in Captain America: Civil War, it's likely that Mobius is taking Loki on an unpleasant trip down memory lane.

What will be particularly interesting is if Mobius shows Loki future events that he is unaware of. Remember, this Loki has only lived up until 2012's Avengers, so he has not experienced anything from Thor: The Dark World, Avengers: Infinity War, and beyond. What if Mobius shows Loki that he did in fact get the Asgardian throne at the end of The Dark World? How will Loki react to watching Thanos choke the life out of him in Infinity War's opening act?

Roxxcart... Roxxon?

Loki is seen with the Minutemen embarking on a mission inside a supermarket.

'Roxxcart' is prevalent throughout the aisles and entranceways, making this location all the more intriguing. Fans will recognize the 'Roxx-' prefix as attached to the Roxxon Energy Corporation, a company that is prevalent on the Marvel comic page. Roxxon has been engulfed in some shady business in the comics, and has been teased to appear in live-action before. If this supermarket is under the Roxxon banner, Loki might have just gained a massive conglomerate adversary.

Upon entering Roxxcart, the Minutemen hold a man at taser-point, though it's unclear if he's their target or simply an innocent shopper. All the while this is going on, the cloaked figure from earlier in the trailer watches from security footage.

Mephisto

Mobius and a Minuteman approach a young boy in a church. The boy offers an object to Mobius, which he accepts. As the two speak, a notable stain-glass window sits behind them. The window depicts a devil-like figure sitting royally, with many speculating this could be the extra-dimensional demon, Mephisto.

Let's start deep diving into speculation.

Considering Loki takes place in a branched timeline and will utilize time travel as an integral plot device, it's fair to assume we will not only visit the past, but also the futures.

Dystopian futures.

We speculated in the WandaVision trailer breakdown that Mephisto would play an integral role to Scarlet Witch's series. Let's run with the idea that Mephisto is not only in WandaVision, but is defeated. Could this tribute-like window indicate this takes place in a future where Mephisto wins?

In the comics, Mephisto spans centuries, popping up in the earliest days of Marvel lore. What if this scene is in the past, when Mephisto was worshipped as some form of god-like figure? There is no telling how Mephisto will factor in to any MCU projects, but if he does indeed debut in WandaVision, this mural becomes a lot more interesting.

Avengers Tower in Ruins

Remember what I said about exploring dystopian futures? This frame gives us our strongest indication that that is a tangible possibility.

Here, stands alone in what is presumed to be Central Park. Around him are jagged ruins of collapsed skyscrapers, complete with overgrown grass indicating that some time has passed since this destruction occurred. Still standing somewhat upright in the skyline is none other than the Avengers Tower in rough shape.

These ruins likely take place some time after Avengers: Age of Ultron, considering the famous Marvel tower has a closer resemblance to its Avengers' style than its original Stark model. Could this be a future where Thanos wins, and humanity gives up on solving it? Or better yet, what if this is Ultron's success story?

Clean-Cut Loki

A suit and sunglassed Loki boards an aircraft looking a lot more like Tom Hiddleston than the God of Mischief we're used to.

Loki is likely undercover here, or at least does not want to be recognized. From here, he jumps out of the plane, calling for Heimdall to time the Bifrost just right to prevent him from falling to his death, like Black Widow (too soon?).

His appearance resembles that of D.B. Cooper, a mysterious man that held a plane hostage, took its passengers' money, and leaped from the plane, never to be found. Could Loki be placing himself in key historical moments?

It is unclear if Idris Elba will return as the Bifrost's gatekeeper in the series, but it is worth noting that Elba has expressed interest in portraying Heimdall again.

Vote for Loki

The final shot of the trailer features a suited up Loki complete with a new horned crown and a 'LOKI FOR PRESIDENT' pin.

The God of Mischief is joined by armed warriors from different time periods, who quickly turn their weapons to the titular character. It is possible that Loki has been gathering some form of an army every instance that he travels through time, and this is the band of misfits he came up with.

Let's talk about that presidential pin!

It remains to be seen whether or not Loki is running a legitimate campaign or if the pin is just for show, but sign me up for an alternate future that sees Loki in the oval office.

While we covered as much as we caught, there's always more information to be found. Speculation has run wild about a possible Black Widow appearance in the trailer, and new findings are surfacing seemingly by the minute.

Loki is set to stream on Disney+ in May 2021.

#tomhiddleston #loki #loki series #marvel #disney+#hiddlestonedit #hiddlesedit #marveledit #mcu #mcuedit #marvel studios #marvel cinema #marvel cinematic universe #lokiedit #mypost #notmyedit #yourfrenchblondgirl

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themandylion · 4 years

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A Tale of Two Tims

(Have a thing I wrote up/shared on the Tim Drake Discord Server.)

Okay, but listen. Parent-trap type situation where there are actually two Tims, let's call them Timothy Jackson Drake and Timothy Drake Jackson. The one that first shows up/first becomes Red Robin in New52 is Tim Jackson—when he screws up and brings the wrath of Penguin down on him/his family, he does his own version of witness protection to hide his parents, then assumes the identity of his cousin, Tim Drake (who went to a dig with his archeologist parents over the summer; the whole family apparently died when their plane went down, all very tragic). It's going pretty good, the Jacksons were for all intents and purposes killed by Penguin's men when they shot up their suburban home. Tim "Drake" (actually Tim J.) is found to be alive! And taken in by local philanthropist, Bruce Wayne. At night, he dresses up as Red Robin, everything's cool.

EXCEPT! Turns out Tim Drake (the real one, the one we know and love from pre-Flashpoint canon) actually didn't die in that plane crash! He makes it back to Gotham, looking for his only relatives, the Jacksons (I'm thinking Tim J.'s dad was Janet Drake's brother and both Tims were named for a shared grandfather, btw). Only they're dead?? And somehow there's already a Tim Drake in Gotham, living as the ward of Bruce Wayne?? Tim D. looks at the photos and look. Look. He's not an idiot. He knows that's his cousin Tim. But he also knows that Tim J. wouldn't have stolen his identity without a good reason so he, like... puts on a fake mustache and some sunglasses and goes to talk to Tim J. who I am trying very hard not to call Jimothy

They decide that the best course of action would be to time share the Tim Drake identity. Tim D.'s always idolized Batman and Robin ("Wait, he made you Robin?! Tim, I'm the one who stalked them for years, this is so not fair!" "Technically, I'm Red Robin, not Robin." "You know what I mean!!"), he's down with getting a chance to be (Red) Robin sometimes! They have to do lots of secret training and junk to make sure Tim D. is at the same level as Tim J., even so they both have their own distinct styles (Tim J., the near-Olympic gymnast, is very flippy and twisty; Tim D. is more cerebral and a better detective; both of them are experts with the bo staff).

The Tims are cousins, but some cousins look very similar. Maybe they both took after the grandparent they were named after or something, idk. They're nearly the same age, almost the same height, and once Tim D. finally gets around to having his hair cut, their hair is the same also.

None of the Bats are aware that there are multiple Tims. If the Tim that checks on Mr. and Mrs. Jackson in Batman & Robin Eternal is Tim D., they're aware it's not their son—but they're also so grateful to see their sweet nephew who they were certain was dead! And he'd basically be their son now if it weren't for how their own Tim kinda totally screwed stuff up so now they have to be in hiding, oops.

Eventually, it becomes a challenge for them—how long can they keep everyone aside from Tim J.'s parents from realizing that there are multiple Tims? They make bets over who'll figure it out first, and when, and how. Supers might be able to tell that this Tim is not the same as the Tim who they met before! Better stay away from Supers for a bit. What if someone notices that Tim doesn't have the same scars?? There's a tense period where they seriously consider purposefully scarring each other in an effort to complete the illusion, before they realize that's crazy and they'll just have to shower privately/be very careful about medical stuff. Tims have to be careful and try to always wear gloves in the cave so that there aren't any contradictory fingerprints. ("Tim, how come you never do fingerprint ID on your phone?" "Uuuuh I just prefer number passcodes. *sweats nervously*")

Probably the biggest threat to the whole charade is that they both really, really want to pull an Epic Prank on Damian to get back at him for all the times he tried to kill them. But no, there's too great a chance it could reveal the whole thing. But it would be so glorious for a brief period of time—!

(This is where I point out that I have mostly ignored Rebirth so I have no idea about most details and am mostly dependent on stuff I've gleaned from Tumblr.) Which Tim was "dead"? Who knows! Probably the flippy usurper, though. This might also explain why Bruce was so ready to accept Tim's "death"—he knew Tim wasn't dead because Tim was right there! In the manor! Hiding out and pretending to be dead until Batman got to the bottom of the mystery of who tried to kill Red Robin! "Good job, sport, dodging the incinerating lasers at the last moment and tricking the drones into thinking they'd killed you!" "Riiiight, dodging... *sweats nervously*" (Tim D. is super-worried about Tim J., but he can't say/do anything or else the Bats will find out that there's more than one Tim!! Oh noooooo)

Neither one of them lays claim to evil future Tim—who isn't even aware of the existence of multiple Tims?? Clearly this future Tim is an inferior Tim, ugh, not worth listening to, what a jerk wait who's Conner that name sounds vaaaaguely familiar to Tim D....

When memories start coming back and such in Rebirth? That's all Tim D. There's gonna be some reeeeally interesting conversations when he finally makes it back and has a chance to sit down with Tim J. and compare notes. ("Wait, what do you mean you saw Kon? Didn't he get wiped from existence by that whole weird paradox thing where he couldn't have ever existed in the first place?" "Different Kon entirely. My Kon is a clone-combo of Clark and Luthor. Also, my Bart is an adorable dork with big hair, much cooler than your Bart. Sorry, I don't make the rules.")

Anyway. Thank you for coming to my TED Talk on how DC should have handled the sudden personality change between pre-Flashpoint!Tim and New52!Tim. *bows*

#Tim Drake #themandylion writes #my fic #headcanon #long post #Mandy's Two Tim Theory #Jimothy #is responsible for that one awful moment of claiming that you can't be made to do anything you don't want when you're mindcontrolled 😬

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evakuality · 4 years

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Based on a prompt by @j-purplesunsets-rainydays: I just thought of another prompt for you 😅 davenzi, enemies to lovers: their entire group is going to a cabin for a few days, though Matteo and David for X reason don't get along. They get there early, before everyone else, for whatever reason, but a bad snow storm hits and the others can't get to the cabin, so David and Matteo are stuck together there! It's cliche but I think you could really make it amazing

This isn’t quite what I had intended from that prompt, but here we are. Chapter one of a planned eight! Many many thanks to @kapplebougher who did an amazing and speedy beta job for me, and to my cheerleaders - you know who you are!

Snowbound, chapter one

It’s quiet as David presses his forehead to the cool panes of the glass and stares outside. That’s something for which he’s genuinely grateful because it means he can try to get his racing thoughts into some semblance of order before he has to play nice for several days. He’s had major reservations about this trip ever since Abdi first suggested it when he was five beers into a great night and everything had seemed equally hilarious, exciting and easily achieved. To Abdi anyway. None of those things is even remotely true, definitely weren’t true at the time, and yet they had made it work in the end. Sort of.

David’s on a train in charge of an entire large bag filled with food and alcohol while most of the others are going to follow later in a car. Which they could technically have brought the food in, but into which they apparently weren’t able to fit it considering the mountains of other important stuff they were trailing. Like skis, a snowboard or two and lots of warm clothes. Make ‘having no room for the food’ point one on the list of reasons why this trip was a badly organised, blatantly stupid idea.

David sighs as he drags his eyes back inside the carriage and looks around him. Looks at Matteo, who’s dozing in the corner of the seat opposite David. That’s the biggest problem, and that’s why David had reservations about this from the start. Not that anyone listened to him. That’s point two on the long list of why this was not a good idea. Though in terms of how large it loomed in the list of ‘reasons why David should not do this’ it’s right up there, and probably should have its own points track and not just ending up lumped in with all the other much less important reasons.

The thing about Matteo is that he shines and stings in David’s life in equal measure.

The thing with them has always baffled everyone around them. Fuck, half the time it baffles David. There was a small moment in time when he’d thought they were connecting. Back when he was newly arrived from the raw, rough experience at his old school and Matteo had smiled at him a few times, David had thought he might even have made a friend. Someone he could share thoughts with, relaxing into the new sensation of smoking weed and rambling about everything and nothing for hours.

But he was swiftly disillusioned of that idea when Matteo had retreated into himself as early as the next day, his smiles coming less often over the next week, clipped and cut off and eventually fading to nothingness alongside short, rough dismissals of any attempt to connect again. That it was something to do with David was obvious when Matteo was with his friends. With them, he’d spark into life, laughing, pushing, teasing. He had the energy he’d had on that one glittering evening they’d spent together. So watching Matteo with those others, fresh from the wounds inflicted at his old school, David had run and hidden. From that moment he was careful to stay as far from Matteo as he could get, unwilling to suffer anymore at the hands of people who flash hot and cold and always have some sort of verbal weapon hidden under the cover of their friendliness when it appears.

Huffing again, David turns back to look out the window. Thinking about Matteo just serves to raise his blood pressure, sending both an aching thought about what might have been if Matteo hadn’t been such an ass and a stabbing anger at how blasé he seems to be about the whole thing now that they’re thrown together so often through chance. Well, chance and a group of people who don’t let anyone stay distant once they’ve decided they want to be friends. Blocking out the sight of Matteo sitting there in front of David is the best way to keep his carefully cultivated calm. Once they’re all at the cabin with the boys it should be fine. It’s never quite as hard to be polite when it’s not just the two of them. So it’s something of a blessing that Matteo is asleep and David isn’t forced to make awkward small talk with him.

Instead he can focus on the beauty of the world outside his window. Darkness is drawing in around the train and with it come some small flurries of snow. They dance, fidgeting spinners through the air as the train rattles onwards through the landscape, beautiful and fragile. Watching them, David lets himself drift, following their forms with his eyes and his heart and leaving his own troubles slumbering on the seat opposite. There’ll be time enough to worry about all that once they get to their destination.

“How are we supposed to get to the cabin?” Matteo asks, his voice clipped, weariness seeping in even though he’s been asleep for the last hour at least.

David kicks at the heavy bag by his feet, finding it impossible to move and wondering glumly how they’re going to move it at all, let alone get it to the cabin.

“David?” Matteo says, irritation slipping into his voice, and David’s gaze snaps up to Matteo’s. The exhaustion is actually easy to read even in the shadowy light in front of the station, or maybe it’s so easy to see because of the way it throws all the planes and angles of Matteo’s face into relief and plays up all the hidden shadows reflected on it. Dark smudges are visible under his eyes and his body is slumped against the stone wall in a way that looks more like genuine need for support than affectation. David shrugs.

“Dunno,” he murmurs. “Uber?”

Matteo’s lips purse as if the idea is distasteful, but he too looks down at the bag stuffed full of food and seems to recognise the inevitability. He sighs and pulls out his phone. Within moments he nods and looks over at David again.

“It’s on its way,” he says. “We should get this stuff out the front I suppose.”

David nods, relieved to have something to do other than stand around making this awkward chat with Matteo in the dim lighting that calls back to the hallway in which they’d first talked. The hallway and conversation in which David had first thought he might manage to belong in the new school that was so terrifying after everything he’d been through.

Between them, they manage to perch their personal bags over their shoulders and drag the food bag through the brightly lit entrance hall and out to the cracked and broken pavement out the front. They stand together, panting breaths sending puffs of misty air out into the deepening dusk as the day slips even closer into night. The snow is falling faster now, no longer dancing but now coming down as if with purpose. David shivers as he looks at the flakes, rushing towards their inevitable soggy end now rather than twisting and dancing as if on spirited legs. The wind is cutting through the hoodie he’s wearing, whistling in under the open edges of his jacket and making him shudder with the cold.

Beside him, Matteo has lit up a smoke of some sort, and David doesn’t want to know what type of smoke it might be. It’s enough that it smells terrible, the smoke acrid in the gusts of wind whipping around them, but that somehow Matteo makes it look good. His eyes when he blows the smoke out flicker closed, his head tips back and David is drawn to the long length of his throat exposed by the movement. Which is almost as infuriating as the revolting smell.

“How long before it gets here?” David asks, trying to shake off the sudden flush of heat that Matteo’s smoking has dragged into his own body, swamping it and masking the chill of the night.

That might have been a mistake as Matteo looks over at him, the smudges under his eye almost invisible now and his eyes a deep reflective blue in the artificial lights as his hair flops down over his face. It’s so reminiscent of their first discussion under harsh lights outside a school room, that David has to suck in a breath and drop his own eyes to the ground, focusing instead on the scuffed shoes he’s chosen to wear.

“It’s about five minutes away,” Matteo says, and David nods morosely. Five minutes. Might as well be an eternity.

“Why can’t either of us drive?” David asks, not really intending to be heard but Matteo huffs out a tiny laugh drawing David’s eyes right back up to his face.

“Because we’re lazy fucks,” he says, his eyes glinting as he takes another drag on the smoke between his fingers, then offers it to David.

The smell crashes over him again, and he wrinkles his nose. Shakes his head. There’s a flicker of something on Matteo’s face, his eyes shutter for a brief moment before he nods and takes another drag himself. The hint of a smile is gone, and when Matteo turns his back to the wall and looks up at the sky David knows the conversation is done.

This always happens. There’s some small start at camaraderie or conversation, but then it shuts down almost as soon as it begins, leaving David ill at ease, body thrumming from a desire he can’t explain and head stuffed full of contradictory thoughts. Matteo is at once enthralling and exasperating, never opening up enough to let David see inside. As if that one long ago conversation was all David was ever to be allowed to see and to know and everything else is cut off before it can even begin. It stabs at him again that Matteo isn’t like this with anyone else. With them he’s charming and open, teasing and sarcastic, alive in a way that David is never allowed to see if they’re ever alone in this way. Not that David wants to be allowed inside. He just wishes he knew what the hell he’d done to make Matteo this different around him.

There was part of him, back then, that had wondered if Matteo was some sort of asshole who’d worked out David’s secret from that evening they’d shared and rejected him because of that. Back then, it was all rough and raw and cut him to the bone whenever he ran up against the prejudices of others. It’s not as bad now, not when he’s lived long enough in the world to feel more secure in his own skin. He’s much less likely to give in to the desire to run and to hide. Still. The lingering feelings from those days colour every interaction with Matteo and it always ends like this. Stilted conversations that go nowhere and a Matteo who’s closed off and shut down.

Before he can let his thoughts darken any more, headlights flash around the corner and a small boxy car slides up next to them. Matteo’s bending to look into the window, and laughing at something the driver has said, all hints of his earlier tiredness dissipating as he turns to grab their bags and fling them into the car’s backseat. The contrast is so stark that David can’t help the pain that lances through him as he climbs into the back seat next to the pile of bags.

It only takes about ten minutes to get to the cabin, but in that time the snow becomes heavier until it’s almost impossible to see as they make their way through the night, headlights barely making any headway against the thickening shroud as it falls. The driver has stopped cracking jokes and started squinting through the windscreen, his hands gripped tightly on the steering wheel and his face a mask of concentration. Matteo has subsided too, his exhaustion obvious in the way he lets himself flop back against the headrest. It all leaves David to the joys of his own thoughts, which are not particularly peaceful.

Sighing in relief as they arrive, he’s able to shake off the approaching melancholy and get their belongings safely stored into the cabin. David looks around him as they stand just inside the entrance. It looks pleasant enough, this cabin they’ve rented, with a large open plan kitchen taking up most of the space at one end of the long room, and a table breaking the space between it and the living area which is filled with plump couches and overstuffed chairs. Thankfully, there’s a wall heater as well as the fire place with wood neatly stacked inside. It’s so cold in the unheated room that David is shivering again, and he knows there’s no way that fire will generate any heat any time soon.

Matteo seems to have had a similar thought, because he strides over to the heater and pushes a few buttons.

“Putting that on the highest it will go,” he says as he turns back to the luggage they’ve stacked just inside the front door and starts pulling out the various foodstuffs they’ve brought with them.

Part of David wants to argue, to push back against the assumption that Matteo gets to be in charge and making all those sorts of decisions. But a bigger part of him knows that’s unreasonable and knows that if he’d been the one to turn it on he’d have done exactly the same thing, so he just hums an affirmation and bends to help Matteo with the food. They work in near silence, with the occasional query about where to store certain foods the only discussion.

David wouldn’t call it uncomfortable exactly, but he can tell just how tired Matteo is and just how much he wants to be away from David. The chilly tension from the station remains with them, and David hopes like hell that the rest of the boys aren’t too far away. He needs their cheerful exuberance to make it through this trip with any sort of enjoyment. This frosty, barely-there communication Matteo has going on is putting a huge dampener on David’s experience of this time.

The chill in the air wears off as they work, pushed away both by the heater’s warmth and the effort of heaving things around, but the chill between the two of them lingers. David wistfully hopes that by the time they’re done their company will have arrived. He’s not sure how much longer he can endure this silence and tension once he has nothing to focus on and they’re forced into some weird semblance of intimacy.

They’re just about finished, storing the last few beers into the suitably large fridge, when Matteo’s phone pings loudly. He shoves the beers he’s holding deeper into the fridge and by the time he’s dragged the phone out of his pocket it has sounded twice more.

Matteo’s face flickers as he reads the messages and his lips crease into an angry line.

“Fuck,” he says softly, so quietly that David is sure he wasn’t supposed to hear, but he can’t help the inquisitive hum he makes.

Matteo’s eyes snap up to him as if he’s just realised David is still here with him.

“The boys aren’t coming,” he says, his face flushing as he drops his gaze away from David’s. There’s resignation and irritation in his voice and a scowl on his face. David winces. That’s one possibility he hadn’t even considered, too consumed by the need for the rest of the boys and their enlivening presence perhaps.

“What? Why?”

“Snow storm, apparently. They can’t get through. Stuck at some little hotel somewhere on the road.”

That’s just great, David thinks viciously. The boys were supposed to be his buffer. They were supposed to make this thing something like fun. Instead he’s stuck here with someone who clearly finds his company less than ideal. Someone who David himself finds difficult to get through to, and with whom he has a complicated history. Worse, the boys have all the equipment with them, so there’s no chance even for skiing or snowboarding to get him away from the supremely awkward moments he can already sense looming in his future.

He flings the door open and looks outside. Indeed, the snow has piled up so there’s about a foot drifted against the cabin already. It’s not stopping anytime soon, either, as the flakes are falling so steadily now that it’s impossible to make out one from another. Any hope of the boys getting through to rescue David stutters to a halt, lost in the chilled white wall piling up in front of him.

Beside him, Matteo huffs his own irritation.

“Fuck,” he says again, louder this time.

David has to agree with that sentiment as he closes the door, blocking out the unwelcome sight of the silent, muffled white world building its armour against them. Fuck, indeed.

#druck #davenzi #my fic stuff #my prompt stuff

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terapsina · 5 years

Text

5 Times Monica and Her Mom Have Difficult Conversations About Auntie Carol (+1 Time She Plans A Parent Trap With Her Skrull Friend)

---- ao3 ---- 1 ----

When Monica is five years old, her mom and Auntie Carol don’t come home in time for dinner.

This is unusual, they’re always home in time for dinner. But that day they aren’t.

She’d known something was weird before that, when the phone rang while she was playing Planes and Pilots with her bears Bessie and Jerrie, and Grandma almost dropped the phone and then pulled the cord until she could talk from the other side of the door. But it wasn’t anything that was important.

She’d thought so at first anyway.

But when Monica starts asking for cookies Grandma actually gives them to her instead of making her wait until she’s eaten her lunch. And then she doesn’t start getting ready for her mom and auntie to come home. And then Grandpa comes over to watch her too, and that only ever happens when Mom and Auntie Carol have to work on Sundays.

By then something has started clawing inside Monica, it feels like there’s a cat trapped in her stomach and trying to scratch everything in its sight. Grandma and Grandpa are so quiet.

She spends almost the whole evening just trying to draw but none of the colors look right and even though she’s big now, there’s frustrated tears at the edges of her eyes that she’s holding back by sheer stubbornness.

By the time the front doors finally open, Monica’s eyelids are beginning to grow heavy and her head is tucked into Grandma’s lap. She shoots up straight and is off the couch like a rocket before those doors get a chance to close.

“Mom!” Monica exclaims as she rushes into the hallway but stops short at the sight of her mom.

There’s tear tracks on her mom’s cheeks and she’s clutching at the wall like she’ll fall if she lets go. And she’s all alone.

“Mom?” She asks, suddenly so scared she doesn’t know what to do.

“Hey, honey.” Mom says, voice hoarse, and drops to her knees in front of Monica. She smiles at her, but it’s small and weak and only makes Monica more scared. “Let me talk to Grandma and Grandpa for a minute, and then- then I have to tell you something. Okay?”

“Where’s Auntie Carol?” Monica says in response, the claws inside her stomach getting sharper.

“Just a minute. Okay?” Her mom says again and leads her up to Monica’s room, sitting her down on her bed. She kisses her forehead and whispers into her hair before she leaves. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” She says back because that’s what she and Auntie Carol always do, and because it’s true.

Then she grabs Amelia from her pillow and clenches the bear against her chest. Waiting for Mom to come back. It feels like forever before she finally does.

And then her mom sits in her bed and pulls Monica and Amelia into her arms.

She knows this means it's going to be a 'serious conversation' - just like the time when Mom told her about how she couldn't tell her friends that Auntie Carol lived in the same room as Mom because some grownups could be really mean about it, even though there was nothing wrong with that. Monica knew that anyway though, the moms and dads of her friends had the same rooms too, and though Monica didn't have a dad she had Auntie Carol, which was the same thing.

"There was an accident." Her mom says, her hands running slowly and soothingly over Monica’s braided hair.

"What kind of accident?" Monica asks, pulling Amelia so close to her chest that her nose dug into her shoulder.

"Auntie Carol's plane crashed and we can't find her." Mom says and starts rocking her in her lap. Monica’s lower lip trembles and she smushes her face into Amelia’s fur to hide it.

"But... you will, right?" She says, voice tiny and quivering, and she doesn’t feel very big at all anymore.

"I don't know, baby," Mom says and squeezes her tighter "I hope so."

Monica looks up to her mom and bursts into tears as soon as she has, her mom is already crying, eyes staring forward out the window and into nothing. She looks just as scared as Monica feels, and something about that is so very wrong Monica has no words for it. Just the inherent certainty that Mom isn’t supposed to be scared.

She falls asleep in her mom's arms that night, doesn’t remember if she ever stopped crying, just remembers feeling her Auntie Carol's absence like a cold river-stone in her chest and somehow knowing there's a stone just like it in her mom's chest too.

---- 2 ----

Monica is eight years old and Auntie Carol has been missing for three years. There was a funeral not that long after the day of the accident but her mom doesn’t really believe that Auntie Carol is dead, Monica can tell because she doesn’t believe either.

She's heard her mom and grandmother fighting about it sometimes, because Grandma can tell too and she does believe that Auntie Carol's really gone. Monica doesn't like it when they fight about it, she's afraid that one day Grandma will win and her mom will start believing it too.

She doesn’t know what wakes her up that night. But when she opens her eyes, the windows are dark. After blinking the sleep from her eyes though Monica grows thirsty and carefully gets up from her bed, pushing her feet into her fluffy panda slippers.

Halfway down the steps though she hears her mom’s voice. She sounds upset so Monica stops to listen.

"Where the hell are you Carol?" Mom says and Monica’s heart starts running in her chest. She slowly takes the last few steps down, avoiding the creaky one by grabbing hold of the railing and very carefully skipping it.

She sneaks a look into the living room and her heart falls with a painful swoop at finding her mom alone.

"I heard your voice. I know I did. I didn't imagine it no matter how much those badge wearing bastards try to tell me otherwise. You were fine after the crash, so where did you go." Mom’s pacing back and forth through the room, eyes toward the ceiling, like that’s where Auntie Carol’s hiding in.

"My mother's been trying to get me to let you go. Yes, I know what you'd say: 'She never liked me, Maria.' And you're wrong, she liked you fine... eventually."

Grandma didn’t like Auntie Carol?

"Maybe... maybe she's right. Maybe I should stop waiting for you to show up like some kind of gift from heaven." She says, sounding frustrated now.

Monica has to bite her lip to stop herself from yelling that Mom couldn’t do that.

"Wherever it is you are, it's not here. And it doesn't look like you're in any particular hurry to come back." Her mom says, and she sounds mad now, but also sad, like she did when Monica spilled ketchup on Auntie Carol’s favorite jacket after she took it without asking permission.

"Where the f-" her mom starts saying but stops mid word as she finally seems to catch sight of her. "Monica?"

Monica steps out of her hiding place, feeling a bit guilty, she knows it’s rude to spy on grownups. But then she remembers what Mom had just been saying and that overcomes the little niggle of guilt. "You're angry at Auntie Carol."

"No, baby. I'm not." Mom tells her, dropping to her knees in front of her.

"You sound angry.” Monica argues and then flinches as a terrible thought crosses her mind. “Do you- do you think she left us on purpose?"

"Of course not. She loved us, you know that." Mom says and her eyes are as wide and honest as ever, so she knows that her mom isn’t lying to make her feel better.

But that just makes it more confusing.

"Then why are you mad?" She asks, not understanding.

"Sometimes it hurts less when we're mad." Her mom says very quietly and wipes away a tear from Monica’s cheek. She hadn’t even noticed she’d started crying.

She looks down and starts playing with the sleeves of her pajamas, it makes it easier to say something she’s never told anyone before. “Sometimes I’m mad at her too.”

“And that’s okay. It’s okay, baby. It doesn’t mean we love her any less, do you understand?”

Monica nods, even though she doesn’t really.

“Did you come down here for something, baby?” Mom asks after Monica doesn’t say anything more.

“I was thirsty.” Monica says through a sudden hiccup. She hates them, they always show up when she gets upset.

“Let’s get you a glass of warm milk then, okay?” Mom offers and wipes more tears from Monica’s face.

“Yeah.” Monica nods and lets her mom pull her up into a lingering hug, feels it as she starts drawing little circles over her back while they move toward the kitchen. It makes some of the lingering pain of thinking about Auntie Carol leach out of her but some of it remains, some of it hasn’t really ever gone away.

---- 3 ----

Monica is ten years old. And lately she’s started to think about something that never seemed like it mattered before but now doesn’t feel quite right. She’s thought about it so much that it finally feels like she’ll burst if she doesn’t ask her mom about it.

"Hey, Mom? I have a question about Auntie Carol." Monica says after she stops in front of her and sits down on the opposite side of Mom’s work table.

They’re in the little hanger near the house. Her mom’s busy working on what looks like a faulty injection pump.

"What is it, baby?" She asks and looks around for a different tool when hers proves too big to ply open the metal covering. Monica passes her the smaller one that’s on her side of the table. “Thank you, honey.”

"Why do we call her Auntie when... when she was... more?" Monica says, jumping straight to the point.

Her mom puts down the broken engine part and the tool she’d just given her, and looks at Monica. Then she lets out a long breath and seems to be steeling herself for the conversation.

Monica doesn’t let herself fidget. She’s not going to be nervous about this, if she doesn’t look like she can handle the answer her mom might decide to tell her she’s too young to understand.

"You loved her." She instead says, continuing to her next point in her mental list of reasons for why something isn’t quite right.

"Of course I did." Mom says but her face tells Monica she’s taking her question seriously.

"And she lived with us. And she made us breakfast because she always woke up so early, and she used to kiss you sometimes, and we were a family. And it doesn't... feel like my aunt is gone.” It’s the truth, because she thinks about her as Auntie Carol, but she's never thought of her as her aunt. Not the way other kids have talked about their aunts and uncles anyway, even though some of them live at the same house as them, just like Auntie Carol used to live with her and Mom. “Laila's aunt left for Minnesota and it doesn't hurt her like it hurts when I think about Auntie Carol. It hurts like it hurt Johnny when his mom died last summer."

"That's because we were raising you together." Mom says but it sounds like an excuse.

"Like parents do. So shouldn't she have been Mama Carol? Why didn't I use to call her that?" She says, trying to drive her point home.

Her mom sighs and gets up to pull her bench to Monica’s side of the table. Then she sits down and takes Monica’s hands into her own.

"Because people can be really cruel." Mom tells her, eyes staring straight into Monica’s. "You remember that talk we had about how you should always tell me if one of your teachers is particularly harsh on you, Laila, Gabriel, Angel and Jordan but not the rest of your class?"

"Because we're black and they're not allowed to do that?" She asks, a low-burning flame igniting in her chest at remembering the conversation Mom’s referring to. The one her mom has had with her more then once because she always says it’s important to have it fresh in her memory.

"Yes, well sometimes there are people who hate us for who we choose to love, like there are people who hate us for the color of our skin.” Here she picks up her smaller hand and pointedly kisses it like she always does during those talks, she says it’s a reminded that Monica’s beautiful and that no one is allowed to make her think otherwise. “And no matter how much we'd like to punch them all in the face, and no matter how much they would deserve it, sometimes when we have something to protect, it's safer to not step in front of those people in the first place."

“What did you have to protect?” She asks, not wanting to but beginning to understand.

“You. Our jobs. Each other.” Mom says with a sad smile that makes Monica feel like maybe she shouldn’t have asked in the first place. She hates making Mom sad.

“Oh.” She says and thinks about this for a moment, feels herself grow angry at yet another unjust thing. “Well, it’s not fair, we shouldn’t have to lie about how much she means to us just because people are stupid.”

“You’re right, baby, it’s really not fair at all.” Her mom says and squeezes her hands between her palms. It’s like being reassured but Monica doesn’t want to be reassured.

She pulls back to jump to her feet and clenches her hands into fists. The flickering flame inside her has been fed a little bit more fuel.

“And you said we should always stand up for ourselves because other people won’t, so isn’t that true here too?” She says, knowing she’s right, knowing her mom agrees, and still knowing that there’s very little she can do about it right now anyway.

“I wish it was that easy, Monica.”

---- 4 ----

Monica is eleven, and yesterday Auntie Carol came home. Monica and Mom had been right, she hadn’t died and she didn’t leave them on purpose.

It’s been a day since then and so much has happened. Mom and Auntie Carol are heroes, they saved a spaceship full of people - they were aliens but they were also people. She’s already prepared to argue with anyone who would say otherwise, even though she knows this is a secret and that there’s no one else who knows.

One of them is her new friend. Her name is Talia, she’s shy but really nice, Monica’s going to miss her.

She’s going to miss Auntie Carol too. That shouldn’t feel like a new absence, she’s been missing her for so long now after all. But somehow the sting is fresh. Even though she’s so proud of her.

They said goodbye to her half an hour ago but Monica and her mom are still sitting on their porch and looking up at the stars, staring at them like if they try hard enough she’ll still be up there looking back. It’s here that Monica finally pulls together the courage to ask the question that has been bothering her for the past two days.

“Why didn’t you tell her, Mom?” She asks, turning her face sideways to look at her.

“What’s that, baby?” She asks, voice sounding far away even coming from right beside her. Monica’s pretty sure it’s somewhere up in the sky with both their hearts.

“You didn’t tell Auntie Carol that you loved her. And that she loved you.” Monica isn’t going to let this go, they’d gotten her back. She won’t let them lose her when there’s so easy a way for them to keep her.

“She doesn’t remember it, honey.”

Monica continues staring at her mom, her mom continues looking up.

“So? You could have reminded her. And she remembered that I was Lieutenant Trouble.” She says and feels a smile crossing her face again, Auntie Carol remembers her. Even if it’s just that one memory, it’s one Monica shares with her and somehow that’s all that matters.

“I know. But... it would have made it harder, and it would have meant making her choose and it wouldn’t have been fair to do that. Talos and his people need her right now.” Mom says, finally looking down and tucking Monica against her side.

“But she left us that communicator, Mom. We’ll be able to talk to her now, and she said she’d visit.” Monica says, pleading for her mom to change her mind about this.

“And I’m sure she’s going to. But you can’t tell someone they love you, they have to figure that out on their own or it doesn’t really mean anything.”

“But-”

“It’s late, baby, you should get ready for bed,” She says, standing up and reaching out to pull Monica to her feet too.

Monica lets Mom take her hand but doesn’t let her drop the conversation. “I think she does though. Love us.”

“Monica-”

“She looked at you just like she did in that photo you took out before we showed her the rest of them.” Mom looks surprised, like she’d thought Monica hadn’t noticed. She had though, and once they started going through them, Monica knew which one she’d taken. It was the one where there were just inches between Mom and Auntie Carol’s faces and both of them were visibly laughing at something. But there was also a strange look on Auntie Carol’s face, like she was completely spellbound by Monica’s mom. “So I think you should tell her.”

Her mom just shakes her head and goes on the offensive, starting to tickle her till Monica yells at her to stop through her uncontrollable giggles.

“To bed with you, Lieutenant Trouble.” Her mom says with amusement.

Monica finally listens. She doesn’t admit defeat though, she just needs to think of a new strategy.

---- 5 ----

Auntie Carol does call them. She calls them almost every night around dinnertime. And when she hasn’t she always tells them why later, sometimes she even retells the coolest parts of whatever fight had happened. Monica’s pretty sure she skips a lot of the more gnarly details to not make Mom mad though.

But during the nights when Auntie Carol calls on time, Monica pays close attention to how she and Mom interact during them.

By this point Monica’s pretty sure she has conclusive evidence that she was right. Auntie Carol might not remember how it was before, and if Monica’s honest there’s a lot she doesn’t remember either - she was only five after all, - but she’s sure that however it was then, it’s a lot like that now too.

They smile at each other and joke with each other, dryly and occasionally through sarcasm but Monica’s well aware that those are her mom’s favorite modes of humor. And whenever Mom isn’t looking at her, Auntie Carol’s smiles turn all sappy and soft.

Auntie Carol loves Mom, it isn’t even a question.

Besides, there’s also the way she’s started to say goodbye when it’s time to cut off the call.

“Love you, Trouble, Maria.” Auntie Carol says with a smile for Monica that she knows is honest but also only half the story. Because then, like gravity, her eyes would always flicker toward her mom.

And yes, Monica has noticed how Auntie Carol always puts her first. Like a barrier between the sentiment and the other person it’s being directed at. Her moms are impossible - she’s started sometimes to think of Auntie Carol like that, as the second of her two moms, if only inside the safety of her own mind.

“Love you too, Captain.” Monica says and turns significantly towards her mom.

“Goodnight, Carol.” Mom says instead as the hologram flickers off, leaving them alone a second later. It was still enough time for Monica to see that brief half a heartbeat where Auntie Carol’s smile fell a bit.

She glares at her mom. Mom, as is starting to become her habit, pretends not to notice it and stands up to take the empty dishes to the kitchen.

“Grab your plate, honey.” Mom just says, already by the doorway.

Monica does and then stomps off after her.

“You’re supposed to say it back.” Monica says, losing her patience. It’s been happening for months now, this weird thing where they almost say something and then never actually do.

“We’ve talked about this, Monica.” Mom says, placing her stack of dishes in the sink and then taking the ones from Monica.

“No. you said that Auntie Carol had to figure it out on her own. I think she’s figured it out.” Monica says back and then, perhaps rather unwisely, actually says the thing that’s been hiding in her mind for a while now. “I think you’re just scared.”

Then she freezes, she knows she’s not supposed to talk to Mom like that.

“I am.” Mom says, instead of immediately sending her to her room, though the look that comes with the words is stern. Monica’s on thin ice here.

Monica stops in her tracks, - not because she’s one step away from getting in trouble but because she didn’t expect Mom to actually admit that she’s scared. Now that she has, Monica’s not sure how to proceed.

For a minute she just stands there as her mom starts washing the dishes. What finally comes out is: “But you love her. And she loves you too.”

“Maybe. Or maybe she thinks so because one of those flashes told her that she once did.” Mom says back, adding more dish-washing liquid to the sponge.

“But don’t you want it to be like it used to be?” Monica asks, finally feeling lost.

“It’s complicated.” Mom says and continues doing the dishes.

Monica grabs a towel to help with the drying and falls silent after that. Mind busy stewing in frustration over adults and their need to call very simple things ‘complicated’. It’s not complicated, it’s so easy; her mom still loves Auntie Carol and Auntie Carol is clearly either starting to remember or has fallen in love with Mom all over again. Either way the answer to what they should do is very obvious.

Monica has a terrible feeling that if she lets them continue like this on their own they’re never going to figure it out. She can’t let that happen.

---- +1 ----

She’s not supposed to call Auntie Carol for anything other than an emergency because there’s no way to predict if she’ll receive that call while on board their hijacked space cruiser, during a live firefight or while on a covert op. It’s all around safer if Auntie Carol’s the one who contacts them.

But Auntie Carol is not the only person Monica uses their holographic communicator to talk with.

Which is why Monica is closing her bedroom door and turning on her radio to cover up the noises from her planned conversation. That done, she goes back to the communicator and enters the - by now familiar - string of Kree symbols.

“Hey, Talia. Are you by yourself right now?” Monica says as soon as the call connects and her friend’s image forms above the device.

“Hi, Monica.” Talia says from her side of the galaxy as they grin at each other. “I’m in my room. What’s up?”

When Monica first met her, Talia might have come across as shy and quiet but she learned really fast that this was true only while Talia hadn’t known her. Now that they’re friends they’ve fallen into the habit of talking for hours, sometimes right up until the point where their parents have to make them stop and go to sleep.

“I think I need your help.” Monica says and starts ruffling through her bag for the book that’s given her an idea. “You know how Auntie Carol plans to come to Earth for a few days next month, because it finally looks like things are going to be quiet for a little while?”

“Yeah, my dad’s going to be free too, he said he wants us to spend some time together while it lasts. Why?” Talia says, looking curious.

“I need Auntie Carol to spend more than a few days home. I’ve told you about how she and Mom have been dancing around each other without ever just sitting down and admitting that they’re in love with each other, right?” She says, knowing she’s kinda whining a bit but after seven months with a first-row seat, she thinks she’s due.

“Only once or twice.” Talia says with a smirk and a heavy dose of sarcasm.

Monica throws one of her stuffed bears through the hologram and gets met by the sound of Talia laughing as the light reforms back into her.

“That wasn’t nice. I thought you wanted my help.” She says, still smirking. This is why Talia is her best friend even though she’s two years younger than her.

“I do.” Monica says and turns serious. “Can you talk your dad into taking you here to Earth too?”

“Maybe?” She says, though she doesn’t sound entirely sure. It’ll do for now, they can throw around some ideas on how to accomplish that part after Monica explains her plan.

“I found this book in the library and it gave me an idea,” she pulls out her copy of ‘Lottie and Lisa’ to show it to Talia, “it’s about these twin sisters who got separated as babies by their parents, and then found each other and decided to switch places while pretending to be each other.”

“But what does that have to do with your mom and aunt?” Talia asks.

“Well, I was thinking. If you were here and pretended to be me and neither of us would tell anyone which of us was which...”

“...your aunt and my dad couldn’t leave before we told them.” Talia says, finishing Monica’s thought.

“And we won’t tell them until Mom and Auntie Carol admit how they feel about each other. I don’t even think we’ll have to do much, they just need to spend enough time together that they forget all the stupid reasons they’ve come up with for why they’re too scared to be together.” Monica finishes by letting out a long, extended, exhausted breath.

“That’s brilliant.” Talia says, her pretty green eyes widening in wonder.

Monica smiles, proud of herself.

“So can you do it? Make yourself look like me?” She asks and bites her lip, this is the one part of her idea she isn’t sure of. If Talia can’t turn into her, then her plan gets unraveled at the seams and she’s back to square one.

“Probably?” Talia says, bending her neck to the side and seemingly taking a new look at Monica. “You’re not that much bigger than me and I’ve been practicing with dad. It’s also a lot easier if we know the person we’re trying to turn into. But I can’t really do the memories thing yet.”

“That’s okay. I’ll tell you everything you have to know and if they ask us something we haven’t covered we’ll both pretend that we don’t know the answer.” Monica says and smiles an exhilarated smile.

This is going to work. This has to work.

----

They step downstairs hand in hand - hand in the same hand, in fact, - it’s time for the show.

“Monica?” Her mom says cautiously.

“Yes, Mom?” Monica and Talia answer in unison just like they’ve practiced, two identical grins on their faces.

“What are you two doing?” Mom says a suspicious cadence coloring her voice and a look on her face like she’s already getting an idea of what they’re planning. And why.

Monica doesn’t mind, as long as her mom isn’t sure which of them is the real Monica there’s nothing she can do about it. Knowing what Monica wants from them might actually hurry this thing along faster.

She does know that as soon as this is over she’s going to be grounded for a very, very long time. But sacrifices have to be made in the name of the greater good of Mom and Auntie Carol getting back together.

“Yes what are you two up to?” Auntie Carol asks looking over the back of the couch. She looks amused and unlike Mom clearly hasn’t yet worked out that Talia’s not about to change back any time soon.

They exchange a look and pull their lips in a smirk, Monica has to admit it feels a bit strange seeing her own face looking back but it’s also kinda... really cool too.

“Nothing, Auntie Carol.” Talia says innocently.

“Nothing at all.” Monica echoes her.

They both look left at the sudden loud chuckle coming from the corner where Talia’s dad is standing, as soon as they do, he sends them a quick wink and continues laughing. Monica likes him. She has a good feeling that he’s not gonna snitch on them even if he does have some way to tell them apart.

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