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razrbladekiss · 3 years

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Tyrants | Chapter Seven - Fix You

WORD COUNT: 6.1k

WARNINGS: Gun talk, mentions of murder, The usual SOA shit.

An almost unsettling fog blanketed Charming tonight, amplifying the sinister aura that’d been drifting through the town since Stahl had made her mark.

Since June Stahl had made it her mission—her whole purpose—to destroy the Sons Of Anarchy, and anybody that laid in her path.

She was doing a damn good job of that, too.

Isla wasn’t sure what her hasty arrival would mean for the club, but she knew that it wasn’t going to end pretty. She was aware that the bitter agent was just as stiff-necked as Clay, and wasn’t going down without a fucking fight.

Which, a fight, the Sons could do. It was whether they’d all make it out alive that Isla couldn’t predict.

She wouldn’t want to put her money on it either, actually.

“Any word on Bobby?”

“No.” Gemma’s sigh was sad, exhausted. “Rosen swung by just after you left with the she-devil. Said there’s a witness in a safe house willing to testify against Bobby and Ope in court. And if he does stick to his word, they’re going down for murder.”

Choosing to ignore her comment about Tara, Isla continued to pace the room. She held her cell tightly between her pink fingertips, hoping it’d light up and vibrate with a call from Jax, or Tig, or even Happy.

“Shit.” She hissed, mindful of the fact that there was a sleeping baby in Wendy’s arms and any offensive sounds would rouse him in an instant. “Did Clay tell you what their next move was?”

“Yeah. But I don’t think you’re gonna like it, sweetheart.”

She didn’t have to be privy to the plan to know that their next move involved one witness, three men, and a handful of shrapnel bullets.

“Jax know about this?” Almost concerned, Wendy asked. Isla’s ears perked up at that, too, because she wanted to know.

The VP was brutal, he was domineering and harsh when he had to be, but he wanted minimal blood shed. He didn’t host that same massacre mentality as Tig or Clay, and he definitely didn’t desire the sick thrill of gunning down a witness being protected by the fucking ATF.

“I’m assuming that he doesn’t.” The blonde uttered for Gemma after noticing that she was taking a painfully long time to respond. “Clay sent Happy, Tig, and who else? Juice?”

“Not Juice.”

“Did Clay go?” A little bit condescending, like she already knew the answer, Wendy asked. She rocked Abel back and forth as she did so, penetratively glaring at her ex-mother-in-law.

Isla swallowed thickly, stuffing her cell into the back pocket of her jeans when she realized what Gemma was trying to say.

Clay never did his own dirty work—it was always the Sgt. At Arms and whoever else was willing to get the blood on their hands. And her father, the forward-thinking, strong-willed Scotsman, never shied away from a task of this nature.

“It’s okay.” She spoke aloud, elucidating her innermost thoughts. “It’s fine. They’ve got Hap—he’s never been caught before—he knows what he’s doing.”

“And Tig, too. Y’know what he’s like.”

“Yeah.” Reflectively, she spoke. “At least they’d go through with it if my dad couldn’t.”

“You saying that your old man is weak?”

“No.” Isla spat at Wendy, glaring at her. “I’m saying that he has a conscience. Hap and Tig are a little bit hasty with the trigger and don’t tend to think before they execute somebody.”

In agreement, Gemma nodded.

“But it’s gotta be done.” She concluded, sitting on the arm of the couch. “The witness has gotta be dealt with—even if Jax doesn’t know anything about this.”

She felt her heart constrict at the thought of nobody telling the Vice President about their plans to get rid of that man.

The man that had the power to take down Opie and Bobby, and leave a club without their brothers.

Two families without their fathers.

And though it was inherently wrong to commit murder, Isla had been brought up knowing that the Sons got rid of their problems by planting bullets in the skulls of their enemies.

It was bad and immoral, and she couldn’t think of a way to excuse it to anybody on the outside. But to SAMCRO, it was habitual. It was what they did because it worked. Every single time.

“Wait a second.”

“What’s the matter, baby?”

Isla pulled a hand through her hair. “How is Clay so sure that they’re not gonna get caught? Y’know, ‘cuz this witness is being protected by the ATF—“

She was cut short by a delicate, albeit firmer than usual, knock at the door. Isla piqued a brow when Gemma got up to answer.

“They’ve got it covered.” Was all she managed to muster out before she went to see who’d decided to turn up at that hour.

Isla’s brain was doing cartwheels. She was nervous, she was pissed, but, most of all, she was upset that Chibs hadn’t told her where he was going tonight.

She snapped herself out of it, though. When Gemma scoffed as she opened the door and trailed back to her spot on the adjacent couch, Isla’s interests had been roused.

“It’s kinda late for a house call.” Her eyes rolled.

Tara trailed in behind her, feeling uneasy at the mere sight of the SAMCRO Queen and Jax’s ex-wife—but Isla being the only friendly face eased her a little bit.

“I was on my way home from work. Just thought I’d stop by and check in.”

“That’s sweet.” Isla smiled at the brunette, offering her the space next to Wendy. “Here.”

“It’s okay, I’ll stand—“

“No, I insist.” She protested softly, getting up. “It’s been a long day for you, sweetie. I’ll sit by mama bear over there.”

Gemma snorted, trying to figure out just what had happened between the pair for Isla to suddenly be so kind and considerate toward the woman she loathed for the best part of a decade.

But she was drawing a blank, because she realized how stupid that would’ve been to wonder—she was just like that. Nothing had to happen for her to be that way.

Isla was the kind of woman that Gemma wanted to be, while simultaneously being her exact double. She was a cleaner, kinder, brighter version of the matriarch, though she hosted that flicker of something that’d tie her to the battle axe that raised her.

And maybe calling the woman a “battle axe” was a little bit harsh, but it was true—on almost every single count.

Gemma was strong-willed, stubborn, martinent, and she took no shit from anybody. Isla wasn’t like that. She wasn’t a doormat, and she didn’t let people walk all over her, but she never went out of her way to demand respect.

Even though she’d been brought up to know she was better than the other women that lived among the Sons Of Anarchy.

“Is he here?”

“Does it look like he’s here?” Gemma’s lips twitched.

“No, I just…I guess I miss him, you know?”

Wendy nodded, tending to a fidgeting Abel. “Yeah, I do.”

Isla looked between the pair—sadly. She watched two of the most important people in Jax’s life sit side-by-side, meditative and wondering about the positions they had both been thrust into.

He had lived two completely different lives with each woman, and she was grateful to say that she had been present in both.

But to see Jax struggle—to see his heart break twice—was too much for Isla to think about, really.

She had watched Tara walk away, right out of his life without a second glance or even a second thought. And it was painful to discern. Painful to know that her best friend had lost the love of his life because she felt that she was too good to stick around for him.

Isla knew that wasn’t the entire truth, and that Tara was just doing a good thing for herself. But, at the time, she was young and stupid and extremely closed-minded when it came to the people that wronged the ones she loved, and all she wanted to do was hate that woman.

She’d grown up a lot since then, though. Isla was a different person entirely—a better version of herself—and she understood each reason behind every last thing Tara did when she did it.

Even if Jax’s mother couldn’t get to grips with it—couldn’t think about trusting her—Isla could.

It was a little bit difficult now, however. To see Tara and Wendy in the same room—trying to coexist peacefully in Jax’s life—was hard.

The lull was boisterous. The sheepish silence was deafening, and the thwacking of Isla’s heart against her chest was vociferous enough to be heard by Gemma across the way.

It was a position she didn’t want to be thrust into, but she wasn’t willing to get up and leave had anything been said.

She sat beside the older woman, watching her watch them like a fucking hawk, until her phone vibrated in her back pocket.

Isla shifted, pulling the cell from the denim and flipping it open.

Janet: Can u make it in for 9 tomorrow morning?

Her eyebrows pinched together, looking up a little confused. Isla swore that she sent Janet a text message that told her she wouldn’t be able to work in the morning.

She couldn’t miss Donna’s funeral. She didn’t want to, either.

“Who is it?” Gemma spoke inquisitively, peeling her eyes away from the conversion between Wendy and Tara.

“My boss.”

“Janet?” She nodded. “What’d that bitch want?”

“For me to work tomorrow morning—”

Gemma turned to her, grimacing. “But it’s the funeral. You told her that, right?”

Once again, Isla bobbed her head while fiddling with the buttons on her cellphone.

“She’s not gonna let me take another day off.” Her throat hitched at the realization. “I’m just gonna have to go with you, ignore her calls, and tell her that I didn’t see the text she sent to me tonight.”

Lying to and ignoring the woman that paid her at the end of every month, the woman that had helped her financially for the last five years, wasn’t what Isla wanted to do today.

But it was the only way she could pay her respects to Donna, she thought.

“You’re not gonna go in, right?”

She shook her head. “No. I’m just gonna call her after the funeral and apologize—“

“Don’t apologize.” Gemma chastised, knitting her eyebrows together. “If she can’t understand that you’ve got a funeral in the morning that you can’t miss, then she can go to hell—“

“Alright, Gem.” Her chuckle was hearty as she put her hand against her purse, pulling it to sit against her shoulder.

“What’re you doing?”

“I’m gonna head home.” She rose to her feet smiling over at Tara and Wendy. “It’s getting late and we’ve gotta be out early tomorrow.”

“Alright, baby.” The older woman stood with her, pushing her hands into the back pockets of her jeans. “Call me when you get there?”

Isla smiled, pecking her cheek. “Of course.”

“I’ll see you tomorrow?” She directed toward Tara—not particularly giving a damn if Wendy would be there or not.

The doctor simply smiled and nodded, giving her the answer that she not only wanted, but needed. She needed her there by her side in the morning. Isla feared she wouldn’t be able to get through it without her, actually.

But she was dreading the day. To see those men hold themselves together—to see Opie strive not to crumble—was something that she didn’t want to have to witness tomorrow.

So many funerals had she attended, so many friends and family members had been seized from her reach throughout the course of her life, but she hadn’t seen anything like this before.

She hadn’t ever seen a friend lose his one true love, the woman that brought him unintelligible happiness and two beautiful children to cherish with his entire being.

She hadn’t seen Opie suffer so much before. The man that was strong and willing and would hastily blow shit up with little to no regard for consequences, was disintegrating before her very eyes.

And Isla didn’t fucking know how to help him cope with that. She didn’t even know if she could help him to cope with that.

Her anxiety was still present on the drive home, too.

Even after getting into bed and recounting the events of the afternoon, Isla was still nervous as to what’d happen next. Because Clay’s reaction to Bobby getting arrested didn’t inspire much confidence, either.

And the way that Piney had disappeared earlier to seek vengeance, to hold a fucking pistol to the head of Laroy Wayne—the man that allegedly played a role in the murder of Donna Winston—was also prickling away at her thoughts.

Something was going to go wrong, wasn’t it?

No matter how well thought out their plans might’ve been, or how seamlessly they carried out the crime, something always went wrong. Somebody was always caught out, or hurt, or just felt bad about what they were doing.

Isla could’ve written that shit, now. After so many failed hits, failed attempts, and unfortunate events, Isla was almost a pro at predicting what the future would entail.

Almost as if she’d manifested it by merely thinking, her attention was piqued by the hastening roar of a motorcycle engine—clearly pulling up to her place.

It was wonderful to know that Gemma hadn’t decided to follow her home tonight, but the rough din could’ve led to any of the others.

She hoped it wasn’t Jax, and she really hoped it wasn’t her father or Happy.

As she slid out of bed, Isla reached for the pink robe with the daisies on it that rested against the back of her bedroom door, and shrugged it on over her silky pajamas.

It was great that she lived in such a small house, really, because she was able to get from point A (her bedroom) to point B (the front door), in a matter of seconds, or before the person outside got angry that she was taking too long.

He hadn’t knocked the door yet, but she knew that he was about to.

Isla rummaged around the little bowl beside the entrance for her front door key, suddenly realizing that she had way too many of them—her house key, a key to her mailbox, keys to T M, keys to her dad’s place, her car keys, she had somebody’s bike keys, too.

The little chain that hosted a few pieces of metal, a cherry keychain, a tiny motorcycle, and an old beaded bracelet that Chibs had given to her for safe travels, was hastily being shoved into the lock and twisted counterclockwise.

“How’d you know I was out here?” Tig asked from about a foot away, barely visible to her as the streetlights were out, for some reason.

“Literally couldn’t hear myself think over the sound of your bike.” She chuckled, leaning against her door frame. She squinted, trying to focus on him—but it was no use. “What’re you going here, Tigger?”

He stepped further toward her—reluctantly. The dim glow of her living room light suddenly illuminated the space a hell of a lot more, hitting Tig square in the face as Isla shifted a little to her left.

Her heart clenched.

“I need you to play nurse again.” Bashfully, he smiled.

There were tears of pain trickling from those crystalline hues, his left hand firmly planted against his ribcage, and she suddenly heeded the dried blood underneath his nose, his lips, and a bruise forming against his cheek.

“Tig…” Her words broke away from her tongue, the lump in her throat constricting her airways because seeing him so beaten and exhausted hurt her.

“You should see the other guy.” He tried to joke, but the humor was lost on her.

Lost on him, too. He didn’t think it was funny, but he hated the way she was looking at him.

“Sorry to bring this here.” Tig sniffed harshly, squinting as the pain suddenly started to hit him. “I’ll—uh—I’ll go—“

“No. No, you’re not going anywhere.” She stated firmly, stepping out of the house and down the path. “You’re gonna come in, I’m gonna fix you up, and you’re gonna tell me what happened.”

“Isla…”

“Please, Alex.”

Tig couldn’t help that little smile pulling at the corners of his lips, always liking that she’d say his name so softly. Anybody else referring to him that way would’ve gotten a swift kick in the fucking gut—but she was different.

Isla was a comfort. Always had been.

He stepped inside, following closely behind her as she made a beeline for her bathroom. But she instructed him to sit at the dinner table, stifling a laugh at the way she tried her hand at being the authoritative figure.

She’d even told him to help himself to the Jack Daniels she kept for when Chibs called ‘round.

“You’re so lucky dad taught me how to treat wounds.” She called from the end of the hallway, shuffling across the carpet in a pair of sparkly pink slippers.

“I know.” He agreed, thankful. “He did a good job, too.”

“I’ll tell him you said that.” Isla smiled, putting her first aid necessities atop the table. “But don’t tell him that I’m about to ask you to take your shirt off, or else he’ll beat the shit outta you.”

“What?”

“Take your shirt off.” She smiled again, gesturing to the part of his body that his hand had subconsciously taken purchase against. “I’m not tryna make you do a strip tease for me, Tig, I just need to see if you’ve got any cuts there or if it’s just a bruise.”

“I think it’s just a bruise,” he mused, shrugging off his black zip-up, and starting to unbutton the cotton shirt adorning his torso.

Isla bit her bottom lip as she fiddled with the tube of antiseptic cream, wondering how she would broach the topic. She wanted to know what had happened—because whatever it was clearly did not go to plan—but she didn’t want him to think that she was trying to force it out of him.

“See.” Tig ran his hand over the red marks, lines, and the small flecks of yellow surrounding his rib cage and lower abdomen. “All good.”

“Not all good.” She halted him as he tried to reason with her, furrowing her eyebrows. “Where did they come from?”

Nobody could lie to her. Ever.

Nobody had to lie to her, really, because Isla Telford tried not to ask any questions—but she was worried tonight.

Worried about Tig and the various messes that he’d found himself entwined in over the last day and a half. Worried that he was in trouble, that he was tormenting himself over something out of his reach—his control.

She was just worried about him, really.

His sigh was throaty, hurt palpable. “You want the whole truth, or the dumbed-down version?”

“The whole truth.” She retorted instantaneously, letting him button his shirt before she started to clean the blood from his face. “And don’t try to lie to me, because I know you too well for that.”

Like last night, he felt pathetic. He felt that twinge of vulnerability poke through again, and he hated it.

He hated the thought of Isla seeing him this way—in pain, downtrodden and exhausted—and he hated the thought of her knowing that whatever it was he did today had gotten to him so much.

“The witness that was gonna testify against Ope. Me, Hap, and your old man went to go ‘n handle him,” Tig sucked in a deep breath when the alcohol pad nicked at a cut he was unaware of.

“I know about that part.” Easily, she followed on. “So what happened? Was he too fast?”

His head shook, an airy chuckle escaping his lips. “He was a she. A teenage girl—“

“Jesus, Tig.” Almost disgusted, she took a step back. “You didn’t…”

“No.” He reassured her, letting her soften a little bit before coming out with; “but me and Hap were gonna.”

“You’re kidding?”

If there was one thing that Isla knew SAMCRO did not do, it was kill women. Ever.

There had been accidents that saw innocent girls caught in the crossfire—last night, for one—which was inevitable. But the club never went out of their way to end their lives.

“Wish I was, Isla.” Tig’s eyes watered, but she didn’t do anything. She didn’t say anything, either. “I dunno what's happening to me.”

I don’t either, Tiggy.

“I was gonna put that bullet in her and if it wasn’t for Jax—“

“Jax was there?”

“He stormed in after someone must’ve told him we were gonna off the “man” that saw Ope and Bobby kill Hefner at that complex.”

“Oh.” She nodded along, cleaning out the wound she had literally only just fixed yesterday.

But the cogs inside of her brain were slowly turning.

“Oh…” Isla quickly looked down at him, piecing the puzzle together. “Tell me he didn’t do this to you.”

He winced as the whiskey left a searing trail down the back of his throat, barely making eye contact with her before she snapped.

“Tig! Talk to me—“

“Alright, fine! Yeah, he did this!” He raised his voice at her, watching anger flit across her delicate features. “He held his glock to my goddamn head and I was ready for him to pull the trigger, but he didn’t.”

She blinked at him, uneasy at the thought of what Jax had started to morph into. Who he had started to morph into.

“We ended up fighting and I got a few hits in, but the asshole punched me in the fucking face and threw me onto a table—that’s probably where the bruises came from.”

“And this was because of the girl, right?”

“Right.”

“But Happy and my dad were there, too…Why did Jax beat the shit outta you?”

“You know why.”

“No, I don’t,” she grabbed the tumbler from his right hand so he couldn’t silence himself with anymore alcohol, and put it atop the table.

“Because he stormed in when I had the gun to that kid’s head, and I was gonna pull the fucking trigger.” He recounted, sobbing as he spoke.

She was seething. Oh, Isla was fucking furious—but she didn’t want to spook him after this, because he was unpredictable and really unstable. She didn’t want him to do anything stupid.

“It’s alright.” The damp pad was discarded, tossed to the middle of the table when she grabbed gently at his chin and forced him to look upward. “You didn’t kill her, I’m assuming Jax handled it some other way, and you’re outta the blue, okay? It’s fine.”

Maybe Isla was so quick to forgive him for something that he didn’t do because she was also toiling with the idea of coming to terms with an act just as—if not more—treacherous than Tig’s.

She seeked that reassurance, that “it’s okay” talk from somebody after what she had done with her best friend, but she knew that the only person that’d give it to her was Jax. Because he was also trying to accept it.

The guilt was hefty and Tig knew all too fucking well what that’d entail, but he had no idea that Isla was suffering that same thing, too.

“You didn’t know the witness was a kid. None of you were to know that if Rosen didn’t specify.”

“But I was still gonna do it.” He added. “After I found out she was a kid, I was still gonna kill her.”

“But you didn’t.”

He was making it difficult for her to get through to him.

“It was horrible and I know that what you were going to do was bad, but you weren’t the only one there, about to do what you had to for your brother.” Isla’s thumb ran softly underneath his lower lip, hoping the tears welling in her eyes weren’t about to fall to the apples of her cheeks.

Because that’s all that Tig was doing. He was doing this for his brother. For the man that had already sacrificed so fucking much for his club, he deserved every last sliver of prosperity and protection that SAMCRO could offer.

And, perhaps, Tig wanting so desperately to pull that trigger was a way for him to solidify the fact that Opie wasn’t going to be sent away—wasn’t going to suffer more after his wife had been “mysteriously” killed. But Isla simply saw that as him wanting to do an inherently evil thing that’d see the greater good ensue.

Looking past the fact it was a teenage girl, however, was something she had to work on for the sake of her own fucking sanity.

“Thank you.” Tig broke the silence, getting to his feet. He towered over her a little bit as he did so. “See you tomorrow—“

Isla didn’t have enough time to think about what she was doing, but that phrase triggered something inside of her. She grabbed at his hand as he went to slip away, looking up at him with that almost heart-wrenching innocence of hers.

“I did something bad, too.” She blurted, letting her tears fall freely. “I can't say what I did, but it was bad and I regret it every fucking day because I can’t sleep properly, and it’s the only thing on my mind, and I just—“

He silenced her when he wrapped both arms around her trembling frame, holding her impossibly close to his chest as she weepeed into the navy cotton, and he gradually moved a hand upward to twist into her hair.

“It’s alright, baby, let it out.”

Mentally, he commended himself for being the one person that Isla trusted enough to confide in—to crumble before. But it was also sickening because the woman was so fucking stubborn and rarely ever shed a tear in front of a Son.

Chibs was the only one that saw her like this, really.

He felt horrible. Not because she was so upset but because she had so obviously been harboring that emotion, that pain and anguish and she didn’t know how to express it without crying.

“I’m scared, Tig.” Isla mumbled sadly into his chest, trying to sniff back the horrid emotion but failing miserably.

“Of what?”

“Myself. And these stupid things that I can’t stop thinking.”

“Thoughts are normal.” He reassured her, running a hand up and down her back. “Intrusive thoughts are normal. Don’t you worry—“

“You can’t tell me not to worry, because that’s gonna make me worry.” Her words were plied in a weak laugh. “And when I worry, I cry—obviously.”

“Don’t cry.” He chuckled, too, using the pad of his thumb to brush across her cheek. “You’re too pretty to cry this much.”

“And you’re too much of a mean old man to be this comforting.” Tig feigned offense, gasping dramatically at her words. “So, what was it? What pulled at your heartstrings so much that made you think you had to try and make me feel better?”

“It’s my good deed for the day.” Her lips curled upward into a grin when his expression softened.

“Do you think you can extend that good deed?”

He grunted, nodding. “Suppose so. What’d ‘ya want me to do?”

“I was just gonna ask if you’d stay with me again tonight.” All irreverence in her tone had melted away, promptly replaced by a borderline debilitating sincerity. “You don’t have to because we’ve gotta be out early for the funeral tomorrow, and that’d mean you’d have to leave earlier to get yourself fixed up, but—“

“I can leave a little earlier.” He cut her short, still swiping at the tears that wouldn’t quit flowing from her eyes. “If you get your ass up and ready before eight, you can leave with me too.”

“Yeah?” Hopefully, she asked. “Are you sure?”

“Absolutely.” Tig confirmed, slinging his arm over her shoulder when she pulled away and pointed toward the end of the hall. “And I guessed that you didn’t wanna head to the garage alone—and Gemma would probably beat the shit outta you if you were late—so if you come with me, you’ll be on time.”

Isla just hummed, thankful for the genuine intentions behind Tig’s actions. He was sweet when he wanted to be.

“Where am I sleepin’?” He asked with a little grunt, a twinge of pain prickling against his ribcage. “I’ll take the couch—“

“Oh, shut up. You’re not sleeping on my couch after getting your shit rocked.”

Tig glared at her, but she simply raised an eyebrow. She gestured to her bedroom.

“Y’know, if we keep spending the night together then people are gonna get a little suspicious.”

“Eh. Let ‘em.” Isla stated offhandedly shimmying her shoulders out of her robe, and throwing it onto her vanity stool as she got to her room. “I don’t care what Gemma thinks.”

“Not so much Gemma.” They shared a knowing look, but he followed her into the room and sat at the edge of her bed regardless.

Isla sighed, sitting beside him.

“If you’re worried about my dad because of how he was this morning, then you don’t need to be. I think he’s just a little bit spun out after last night, and feels bad for Ope—‘cuz, y’know, he’s been through this too.”

Tig’s heartbeat hastened to an almost debilitating tempo, wondering how Isla knew the similarities between Diane and Donna. But she blew those thoughts right out his brain when she built on her response.

“He lost his wife and was left with a kid,” she pointed to herself, “and didn’t know how to navigate this life without the woman he’d depended on for so long. It’s just heavy at the moment.”

“Yeah,” he shook his head a little, looking at his hands bunched together in his lap, “you’re probably right about that.”

“It’s all that it is. He’s just feelin’ it a little more than what we are.”

I wouldn’t be so sure about that, Isla.

“Anyway.” She perked up a bit more. “If you wanna freshen up, I’ve got some shampoo and lotions that don’t smell like roses in the bathroom—and I think there might be some razors in one of those cupboards, too.”

“You gonna join me?”

The tips of her ears began to blaze, stippling heat across her cheeks and down to her neck until she could almost feel how red she was getting.

Despite knowing that was a joke—the habitual banter shared between them—it still forced a feeling to swell in her stomach.

A feeling of something that she couldn’t quite put her finger on.

“Maybe tomorrow.” Isla chuckled at the playful pout tugging at his lips, urging him to step into the en suite before she physically fucking exploded.

He grabbed a towel from the pile, walked in, and shut the door behind him, and she threw herself against the top of the comforter with a groan.

At what point had Tig’s harmless flirting turned into something more for Isla, she wasn’t entirely sure. What she did know, however, was that she was definitely enjoying it a little bit too much now.

And that would complicate things, she was certain of it.

But she strived not to let it get to her, and slid underneath the unkempt covers for the second time tonight.

When Tig emerged from the bathroom, he was thankful to see that she’d covered herself up because the tiny crimson cami and shorts combo was killing him.

He wasn’t able to pinpoint just what it was that’d made him feel so differently about that this evening, but he knew that he wasn’t able to get the image out of his fucking head.

“Was that nice?” She asked from the left side of her bed, barely opening her eyes as he stepped onto the carpet.

“It was.” Tig answered softly, picking his jeans up from the ground.

“You can’t seriously be wearing those to sleep in?”

“I’ve slept in more uncomfortable outfits.”

Isla huffed out a breath, gripping the covers and pulling them back. “Wait here.” Begrudgingly, she left the bed again and traipsed toward the cabinet at the end of her hallway.

He watched her saunter away, heeding the crow tattoo on her lower back that he’d never noticed before. He wondered who she’d gotten that for, and he also wondered if anybody even knew about that—because he certainly did not.

“These are clean, you can wear them.” She threw a pair of pajama pants at him from the doorway, hoping he wouldn’t make a face.

Cautiously, he held them out in front of him. “Whose are these?”

“Nobodies. I just learned—from Gemma—to always keep spare shit at my house. Like the shower stuff and razors, and I’ve got things for whoever might need them.”

He smiled, forgetting that she was so thoughtful.

Tig unzipped his pants and slipped into the checkered cotton as Isla rummaged around the bottom drawer of her closet, pulling out a couple of pillows.

“You do this a lot?” He quizzed, getting into bed. “Take care of us guys, I mean.”

“Not really. Only when one of you needs it.”

He nodded, taking one of the two pillows from her.

“Aside from stitching you up two days in a row, the last time I took care of somebody was when Jax and Wendy split and he let her live at his place.”

“He never said.”

“‘Cuz Gemma would go nuts if she found out that he came to me and not his mommy.” She chuckled, settling beside him before flicking the lamp off. “And he only stayed with me for a couple weeks because he didn’t wanna sleep at the clubhouse.”

“So you were harboring Jax from her, huh?” He nudged her, prompting Isla to shift closer to him.

“I guess so.” She joked back through a yawn. “I felt bad for him because she’s such a hardass sometimes. He just wanted somewhere to stay, and somebody to keep him company that wouldn’t ask an abundance of overbearing questions.”

“And you were that somebody.”

“Yup. I was.” Tig turned onto his side to face her. “And I liked it because I hate being alone. It was nice to have somebody around.”

“You? Not wanting to be alone?” Sarcastically, he let out.

Had he not already been hurt, she would’ve slapped the smugness off of his face for that comment.

“What’s that all about, huh?”

“The being alone thing?”

“Yeah.”

“I don’t know, really.” She mused quietly, pursing her lips. “I think I just got used to being around my dad, and whenever I wasn’t with him I was with Gemma—and I didn’t move into my own place until I was twenty-three, so…”

“So you always had somebody.”

“Yup. I guess I have some attachment issues.” Isla chuckled, silently thanking him for not ridiculing her the way she thought that he might’ve.

But Tig was always so thoughtful when it came to her, and he probably wouldn’t have been able to find it in himself to make fun of that sentiment.

He had his own issues, too. He wouldn’t dream of mocking that she didn’t like to be alone.

“Is it Jax’s?” He asked out of nowhere in reference to the crow. “The tattoo you got.”

Isla froze. She didn’t know that he’d seen it tonight.

Only Tara knew about that. Only Tara knew about a lot of things, it seemed.

“No.” She rasped, hating the way her words became lodged at the back of her throat.

Tig raised a brow. “Whose is it? Is it Juice’s—“

She snorted at his words, and he smiled because he had finally gaged a more positive reaction. Her smile—though barely visible—was most certainly as beautiful as ever.

“It isn’t anybody’s. It’s just a SAMCRO crow.” The smile was weak, now. Faded and pained, but it was there.

She wasn’t lying, but it felt like there was more to the story than what she was letting on, and he was happy with the answer that he’d gotten. So he didn't push it.

“Would you ever get a crow for someone?” A question that he never thought he’d be asking Chibs’s daughter, but a question that he had to acquire an answer to.

After mulling it over for a few seconds, Isla nodded. She laid her hand atop Tig’s that was resting against his pillow, and flicked her eyes upward to meet his gaze as he yawned.

“Maybe one day. But, right now, I’m happy knowing that my little tattoo represents my dedication to the club as a whole—not just refined to one person.”

#tig trager #tig trager fanfiction #tig trager fic #tig trager x oc #jax teller #jax teller fanfiction #jax teller x oc #sons of anarchy #sons of anarchy fandom #sons of anarchy fanfiction #sons of anarchy fic

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versadies · 2 years

Note

Just throwing my two cents about this and you dont have to respond if this will make you uncomfy bc...i honestly think you don't need to apologize for that? 🤔

While I know OP has a point, and its very valid, I was also a supporter of the fact that "you can ship whoever you want AS LONG as you don't force your opinion on others and don't invalidate their own ideals and opinion. If they say no, then no." The problem of ships only lies when people force others their own opinions. I mean, everyone had their own preferences, though its a matter of right and wrong WHETHER you are going to openly admit that or not. Personally, I am not a fan of canon ships, that's why I can say this. I am on neutral ground. I don't ship Chilumi, Zhongchi or whatever there is. But if others like it, people should have not invalidate it, I think 🤔 since people are entitled of their own opinion and their own works.

I haven't read your fanfic of Chilumi to be clear, but if it has a tag "Traveler x Childe" or any indication of sort before they read it, OP should scroll down, maybe pretend you don't see it if they're uncomfortable with it, and call it a day. You are entitled on your own works, and maybe people enjoyed that particular ship idk?

I believed fiction is ALWAYS different from reality. And you writing these..."ships" doesn't define you as a person irl AS LONG as you know how to differentiate them. It was like that of yandere themes or dark contents. As long as a writer says that they doesn't support it irl (in this case, minor(?)xadult but I personally think the traveler could drink bc Zhongli's voicelines indicate as much skshwi) I supposed thats fine with fiction. AGAIN, as long as you don't force it upon others.

i'm not trying to start a fight or anything 😭😭😭 im just kind of tired seeing people tried to explain how to "invalidate"ーerr thats not the right word, but you know, try to make others dislike it?ーother ships when it was the cause of other people's happines siehwueh. What you read is your responsibility, like how writers have the responsibility to cater their contents (ie making proper tags, tw/cw, gender and stuff) so IF you did all of that, I don't think its your fault that they're uncomfy bc...its like...if you read the tag then why still read it if u know its gonna make you feel uncomfy?

People can argue with me over this fact, but I have my own opinion on this too. And like I said above, as long as you don't force others your opinion and respect their boundaries, that is fine :33

Hehe. ty for coming to my ted talk and its become so long too im sorry if it'll clout you 😭😭😭😭😭 and really, u don't have to respond to this at all :3 love ur writing btw hehehe.

my jaw dropped at how long this message was 😦😦😦

altho u also have a valid point, i just wanted to apologize to my dear mutual pollux because i didn’t want them to feel uncomfy about my post + i didn’t put any tag to it (the ship is already seen from the anon message so i didn’t think about putting any tag about it - which is a bad decision).

i would’ve put a warning/tag + keep reading option instead — but after a few mins thinking about it, i decided to delete it just to be safe and to prevent any fights happening in my blog.

pollux kindly informed me about why they alongside a few people are uncomfy and/or against the ship and asked if i could deleted it (which i did already and i apologize to the anon who asked about the ship 😰😰) so i don’t really think their intention was to change my opinion on the ship.

your explanation has also made me relieved bcuz i honestly felt scared that people might go after me (i have a fear for getting cancelled over something and getting hated) over something like this and because i agree about your words regarding ships :DDD

p.s. to those reading this: pls dont attack anon above alongside pollux regarding this matter and respect them + opinions just as how you respect my opinions as well <<3

#— ( penpal anon 📣 )#ty for talking to me about this matter w/o any intents of making fights with anyone :>>#also i didnt write any chilumi fics - it was just a post about me expressing my opinion on the ship because an anon asked me about it <<3 #i also dont have any opinions regarding the traveler’s age bcuz i honestly just dont wanna get super confused 😭😭😭😭

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bulldagger-bait · 2 years

Note

gorlblogger69 from that son preference post is a terf btw! u can check their 'posts a lot about' or just search trans on their blog to see

Oh. I don't check who i reblog from. Usually i just go through the notes of a post and find an addition that i like. And... i mean... its a good addition to the post. Like... it showed every country in the world except for Iceland has a son preference. That's worth knowing.

I really don't care enough to meticulously go through every blog i reblog a post from. This is tumblr; an app I use to relax in my free-time. A reblog isn't an endorsement of someone's character or entire belief system.

Like I get that it's something other people do. The whole vetting of whoever they reblog from thing. But I'm not gonna. I've got better things to be doing with my time. And I know the typical thing people do when they get an ask like this is they'll find their reblog of the post and delete it. But I'm not gonna do that either. As I said, it's a good addition. There's nothing harmful in it, its just a resource that shows there is a troubling son preference in the world. That matters to me as a feminist.

If you (or anyone else who's reading this cos it popped up on their dash) don't like that then unfollow or block me. It's not the first time I've reblogged something from a terf and it's not gonna be the last. (I mean... i have over 10,000 posts on this blog. Its just statistics at this point.) Like I said, if I think a reblog or a post is good imma reblog it. I don't care who the OP or the commenters on it are. Just bc i agree with one thing someone said on one post doesn't mean I agree with or endorse their entire belief system.

I get that might make some people uncomfortable... but you can do the same vetting thing on my blog to check if I'm someone you wanna block or unfollow. I've never knowingly reblogged something that could be harmful to a marginalised community. (I say that bc I cant say 100% for sure that I've never done anything wrong. But, I try really hard to be considerate and respectful online.)

But yeah that's a long winded way of saying: thanks for letting me know, but I'm not going to be changing the way I use tumblr.

#this reads as really flippant but thats not the intent #i yam just a simple woman trying to poast

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synthmusic91 · 3 years

Note

thoughts? kjfhlkjdfh asking bc i rb'd the original post from u a bit ago because i agreed w/ original poster but i just saw this rb of it and wanted to know what u thought. ciaran(.)tumblr(.)com /post/652413157345820673/there-is-a-genre-of-posts-thats-obsessed-with-the

well first of all i hope this isn't a bait ask. this reply really doesn't deserve the time and effort i put into refuting it, but there was a point in time when i was emotionally confused by these..."arguments", so whoever u are, anon, i hope this is helpful. i also recommend some distance - literally, "go outside and touch grass", which is a lot more difficult than it sounds, but it needs to be done. anyway, here's my "analysis":

for context, here's what the post in question said:

and the tags:

at a high level, we can see that what ciaran is saying doesn't really respond to what OP was talking about. for this reason, i'm not going to bring in much of what OP said, because it's uncontested in this context, and look at ciaran's reply. i'll try to break this up...

EDIT: i had a long-ass response here, but then i realized it was dumb because the source material is dumb. i cut out most of it, but here are the highlights.

"there is a genre of posts that’s obsessed with the notion that fandom is something much larger, more prevalent, and more able to affect the way media is processed and consumed, than it actually is in reality."

so, as we can all see on tiktok and, indeed, on the electronic lore olympus billboard that takes up a side of a literal skyscraper, fandom is no longer the niche thing that "fandom olds" make it out to be. also, we can't ignore how many (white) fandom players go on and work in the industry (cassandra clare, whoever wrote 50 shades, man idk much of anything so there's probably many more). so this comment is sort of myopic. and since this is what characterizes the rest of the reply, well...it's not great.

also don't look up lore olympus; it's basically a dd/////lg fanfic that happens to be one of the most popular series on the line webtoon app, which is rated for teens...and for $1 to the creator's patreon, you can view not sfw p*dophilic art, so. also obviously i didnt do that; there was a video essay about this. i can't find it though

"ironically but understandably, these posts are made by people who are so terminally fandom-poisoned that they ascribe phenomenal power to it, and think of it as some great evil that must be defeated (by making posts on tumblr, which is obviously a very influential thing to do)"

"fandom-poisoned" is such a nebulous term, especially since it appears to mean "has had some really significant, (in this context) bad experiences with fandom." this is, first of all, a huge assumption to make about a stranger, and second, not the own they think it is. i'm just going to link this post, and hopefully you can see how it relates.

anyway, the "making posts on tumblr is meaningless" is um...interesting, seeing as off the top of my head i can think of two very influential tumblr blogs that talk about really important issues, Gradient Lair and Red Light Politics. I don't know as much about Red Light Politics, but Gradient Lair is frequently cited by academics (not getting into academia nonsense now but... -_-). also, they sound more pissed that the original post did gain traction, but whatever. this paragraph doesn't really make sense, but nothing here does, because i wasn't given much to work with.

"...and then because these people have basically no imagination and unfailingly pick on others for their own faults, they project their own experiences on everyone they perceive as being more ‘in fandom’ than them,"

jesus christ. i'm going not say anything about the tone of this because i put too much effort into this for some rando to call me a cyberbully.

i think what they're thinking about is how there appear to be some "fandom critical" people who try to, holistically, "ruin everyone's good time" by "stirring up drama" about popular fandom artists/writers/whoever else idk. oftentimes these people will also make jokes about fandom whatever, seemingly picking on random people's interests.

however, if you look at the long history of fandom racism, fandom's normalization of p*dophilia, and even general fandom harassment, and then you look at fandom's visceral, unwarranted reaction to criticism regarding these things, you can quickly see that disillusionment towards fandom is entirely reasonable. as for the joking, well...this an oversimplification but not everyone needs to like what you like. it sounds like they just need to get over themself.

and go “You, a 27 year old queer blogger who is into [tv show/anime/movie] an embarrassing amount, are now going to be the face of Capitalism” with no self-reflection or critical thought given to how fucking cringe it is-"

so, i'm regretting putting so much effort into this because this is so fucking long and i have to analyze this nonsense...it feels like i'm back in my feminist thought class. nightmarish. but anyway, this seems to deal with- [CUT FOR LENGTH. nothing important was missed].

EDIT 2: actually here's a summary of what I had. it deserves better than to be a response to this nonsense, but first it detailed how this took 1. the op's post and 2. a comment that we don't even know if op agreed with and misinterpreted that, and threw quite a fit about this- and i hate to say this because this term is misused so often by redditors, but- strawman.

I then went on to discuss how, for example, PoC can uphold systems of white supremacy. while obviously no person of color is going to be the "face" of white supremacy, the discussion still needs to be had, especially within that group. similarly, while fandom constituents may not be the face of capitalism, there needs to be a discussion, within fandom, on how they support and are defined by capitalist (and other) systems.

it was really too good of a point to be making for this trash reply. I could go say more, but I'm still trying to stay on topic, unlike ciaran.

"to act like random people on the internet, end users with no influence over corporate decisions, are the ones personally responsible for the fact that late-stage capitalism has destroyed popular art and culture in an increasingly sordid attempt to make money."

we've been over the "no influence" bit - because in fact fans do have influence, especially since media creators are literally fans, etc etc. i'm tired of people acting like they have no power and using that as an excuse to support and perpetuate harmful, easily avoidable behavior.

also, to act like the nebulous system of late-stage capitalism is the only cause of bad media is ludicrous. first of all, someone has to make these so-called "corporate decisions", and the people making artistic decisions are, again, overwhelmingly members of "fandom." this comment is really trying to keep marvel trash and lore olympus-esque nonsense in the same atomic, indivisible category lest someone catches a whiff of nuance.

"the above post is a great example of this phenomenon because op admits freely that they only think fandom is destroying media because they have been spending more time in fandom and thus have an over-inflated sense of its importance in greater culture. posting your own Ls indeed."

i'm so tired. this person literally has 120 works on ao3 like...who is spending more time in fandom.

and the tags:

#i assure you that fandom has no bearing on my actual real life #and if it does on yours. then that is your problem #it's also a very funny problem to

now this is just egregiously tone deaf. you do not need to do more than a cursory google search to find a bottomless well of examples of fandom harassment, threats, doxxing, and violence, much of which is racially motivated. you can see why it would be bad to make fun of this.

also the way that “fandom has no bearing on their actual real life“...120 fanfics on ao3. 120.

conclusion:

the reply clearly misinterprets of op's point, and as such, does not refute it. they responded to another issue altogether, which is that of the sanctity of their ~coping mechanism~ or whatever it is. their argument in this respect was, in my opinion, delusional and pathetic, especially given that they wrote it on someone else's unrelated post.

FINAL NOTE: i cut out lots of this because the reply went in so many different directions, so some stuff might not make sense. let me know if you have any questions.

#answered #anonymous #fandom #long post #q slur #s

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radramblog · 3 years

Text

Rating the letters of the alphabet

I feel like part of my style of comedy is just rambling about shit and making loose connections between things as part of an overall bit. I think. I’m no expert on myself, unfortunately.

The inspiration for the following absolute load of shite is trying to search Tiermaker for nothing. Like, no characters in the search bar. Didn’t come up with anything. Did a search for just a space. No dice. What about just a? Surely that’ll bring up everything with an A in the title. But it didn’t, and I was somewhat disappointed.

Then my head started writing bits about letters and that’s how we got here. This is probably really stupid, but maybe it’ll at least be fun. Wordplay is cool, though maybe not my strong suit? Anyway.

A: A is one of the two letters that’s also just a word, as you’ve just seen, giving it a necessary promotion in rank. Not a lot of things get to double up like that, though with the “an” ligature maybe it’s actually a double or nothing. But because of the confusing common connection crossing contexts for the character, it gets somewhat awkward to talk about the letter in conversation. An A, in my opinion, A does not get. 4/5.

B: B is also just a word letter but unlike A when you write it out you have to stick a few extra letters on to make it work, making it not as good. But B’s association with bees isn’t enough, because in the year of our lord, like, 2019 or something, it would become inextrixably linked with shite memes as the B emoji became king. And I just don’t respect that. It’s otherwise a fine letter, dragged down by its company. 2/5.

C: Oh come on now, the word doesn’t even have a C in it anymore! You can sea the see without any of our tertiary letter’s involvement whatsoever. Not to mention how its two main sounds are just copies from other letters wholesale. C must be confusing to non-english speakers, I’d imagine. C as a grade gets what C as a grade typically entails for many a schoolchild. 3/5.

D: It would be remiss of me not to give a sterling grade to the D. Why, none of us would be here without it. While many a youth may find the D to be quite a humourous subject, I assure you I’m taking it with the gravest of sincerity when I say the D has got to be one of the best letters of all.

And by D I mean deity, of course. Wait, what did you think I meant? 5/5.

E: The absolute absurdity that is the E meme elevates E efficiently enough to excel beyond many another vowel. However, it is also the single most common letter in the English language, going so far as to open the damn name. It’s to the point where someone made a point of writing an entire book without using it, and I think Gadsby is cool but mayhaps avoiding fifth uncial was a bit showy. I can’t help but mark it down for the sake of hipster cred. 3/5.

F: F is for Fuck. I like the word Fuck. F is for paying respects. I think the military-industrial complex has poisoned our cultural landscape to the point that a reference to one of its most prized productions’ awkward moments has become one of the most colloquially used meme letters in existence, And That’s Terrible. 3/5, I’m conflicted.

G: Man literally who the fuck cares about G. What is it even good for. Just an absolute waste of a letter, total shithouse. It’s NATO equivalent is Golf, the Worst Sport, too. Who asked for any of this? Just use a J instead, it’s cooler. 1/5.

H: I’ve seen “Hhh” used enough times in written forms of pornography to not consider it a Horny Letter. That and it, being short for Hentai, is often used to denote adult material in Japan. Basically what im saying is, I think this gets worse the less sex-positive you are. 6/9.

I: I think I’ve said enough about letter words already, but I is another high-tier one because like A I is just it’s own thing. It can also, however, be a bit confusing, looking just like an l a lot of the time, and having to constantly capitalise it is a pain in the ass. I also don’t have a particularly high opinion of myself, so a high opinion of I seems disingenuous. 3/5.

J: Clearly the best letter, hands down. I’m definitely not biased. There are so few letters as underappreciated by J- a fact many a person who’s had to do that “assign yourself an alliterative adjective” icebreaker game has had to reckon with. Because it appears to be a lot more popular with names than with words, and that just kind of sucks. 6/5.

K: K has in some circles managed to bump off its partner to become yet another letter word, though in a very informal abbreviated sense. However, when you’re looking into scientific fields, eventually said partner returns, having lost some weight on the trip down to absolute zero. This all makes complete sense in my head, and I’m sure is a lot less funny to anyone who doesn’t live there. 4/5.

L: I’d argue that L doesn’t cop its namesake. It’s a really useful letter, loads of words use it, especially in pairs, and my ADHD-brain thought it was fun to just say LLLLLLLLLLL for a bit while I was thinking about this so I guess that’s staying in now. Put me down as an L Lobbyist. 4/5.

M: Mmmmmm. M&Ms. But also it’s kind of a pain to write. Hmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm. 3/5.

N: I’d like to fight whoever decided we should have two letters that sound so similar right bloody next to each other in the alphabet. Actually, who the fuck even decided the alphabet’s order to begin with? Maybe it should go M to N, that’ll bloody show you. 2/5.

O: Our fourth vowel, and perhaps one of the underappreciated ones. O is similarly a letter word, but a much more common one considering its use as an interjection. It’s also one half of a very powerful letter combo, as we’ll see. 4/5.

P: There’s the other half. Many a joke involves OP as a phrase, whether it mean overpowered or original poster, and the letters’ adjacency is a lovely bit of serendipity. Whenever I say P out loud, on its own, I have to resist the urge to do some incredibly shitty beatboxing, which may or may not be a good sign. 4/5.

Q: I was going to write some very harsh words about Q, and its dependency on U, but then I realised that that is probably hate speech against the disabled. It still sucks, though. 0/5.

R: R is the one I am most struggling to think of things to say about. R is another letter that’s just kinda there. I’m sure the Roberts and Rachels of the world would disagree with me, though. It’s also the name of a program that I know has traumatised a lot of young biologist wannabes, slapping us with a whole pile of maths and statistics when we just wanted to look at cool plants and shit. Or in my case, cool cells and shit. 2/5.

S: The most overrated consonant, but also the thing that makes plurals not a pain in the ass. However I’m going to lean towards giving S a positive rating, if only because it’s associated with snakesssss (and serpentine characters who can talk) and I like those. 3/5.

T: I don’t think T gets enough credit as one of the pillars of the English language. A lot of very common words feature it, and yet it feels like it never gets the same level of credit as big shots like S or half of the vowels. T is like the character actor of the alphabet, is basically what I’m saying. 4/5.

U: Ah, the letter Americans hate for some reason. I think this is actually commentary on the history of American politics. Because throughout history, America has been extremely selfish and self-centered, while attempting to present a positive image that people are finally seeing past. They only entered WWI and WWII when it was convenient for them, they started wars and initiated coups in even their allies for petty ideological reasons, and they’ve gone to war with several countries and funded wars with several others seeming just for shits and giggles. Because apparently if you’re not an American, then you’re not one of them, and that means they hate U. 4/5.

V: I actually think V is underrated. It’s a fun sound. That’s it, no joke here. It’s neat, I like it. 4/5.

W: This may come as a shock to you, but double-u over here is actually two Vs! unless you’re writing in cursive, but fuck cursive. The French actually have it right on this one, naming it double-v (pronounced doobleh-vay). Add in the fact that it’s literally just M upside down, and you’ve got a pretty shite letter. 1/5.

X: There’s a reason literally every “A is for Apple” thing you see made for kids uses Xylophone for X, and that’s because there are no commonly used words that start with it. Seriously, it’s all just scientific terms- I’d argue X-Ray is more common than Xylophone in common parlance, but also, who wants to explain imaging to a kid. It doesn’t even get a second page of words on Dictionary.com. X also has implications as a letter word, that I’d rather avoid at the moment. 2/5.

Y: Ah, Ygreck, everyone’s favourite “what the fuck, France?” moment. Between that and being sorta kinda not really a vowel, Y prompts its own question more often than I’d care to admit. 2/5.

Z: As a (technical) member of the generation associated with this letter- on the one hand, I’m sorry, on the other, y’all have it coming. The final letter of the alphabet, one of the other ones worth 10 in scrabble (and yet X isn’t???), and one we probably got pretty sick of in the early 00s when it was everywhere- ironically, when most of the generation was getting born. 2/5.

And that’s the lot of them. I hope this didn’t alienate any non-English speakers too hard. It’s probably fine.

Join me for more bullshit next time I have another stupid idea. I mean, tomorrow.

#ramble #nonce shit tbh #remember when I made good content? yeah me neither

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yakocchi · 4 years

Audio

2019 Birthday Story Set // Voice Bonus (Zain, Yakov)

hey fools it’s zain’s bday on this side of the planet (and yesterday for JP). happy bday to the objectively flawless chara in bmp that the staff excludes from stuff sometimes bc he gave up his princehood to remain a plebian scrub 😔 cant be in the prince crew if u clean someone else’s dishes

for the 2019 bday cycle (zain is the last one on the cycle bc im pretty sure his route was released on bmp2/ek after his bday...rip) they made story sets which are the routes from the older bday event. the “real” appeal of these sets is that when you get the full set, you get an exclusive brief voice clip. wowee

yea so i mostly got zain’s bc i love hirarin. lol if LT/BMPP wasn’t 34823 years ago i’d be pissed that the cost of this entire set (~$11) is way cheaper than it was to full clear that shit from back then. i mean you don’t get any of the really cool avatars (like the prince uniform or the bg bc im pretty sure those were used for bmp2 chara bday events) but oh well

v brief translations behind the cut. please credit if you take anything from this post, thenk u (･ω･*)

Zain (CV. Hirakawa Daisuke)

[Z]: “Until now, I have never thought much of my birthday and similar matters, but...” [Z]: “To be celebrated by my beloved - is such a lovely thing, huh...” [Z]: “If I had never met My Lady, I feel that I would have never realized that.” [Z]: “...From now on, will you stay by my side, forevermore?”

remember when they spammed the sexi dubious zain face on every zain thing ever back when his route first came out smh why did they stop doing that

and in the cardigan and the くだけた wow what an era

Yakov (CV. Yasumoto Hiroki)

[Y]: “You came here specifically to celebrate?” [Y]: “......No,” [Y]: “I just thought that simply you being here, in front of my very eyes... makes me happy.” [Y]: “Before I even realized it - I’ve fallen terribly in love with you, it seems.” [Y]: “Then... let us celebrate today until the very end?” [Y]: “Even down to the things I desire... you know what they are, don’t you?”

you may be wondering, op fam why u no have all the sets if zain is the last one on the cycle. and well hypothetical reader that is because i aint that whipped for the other seiyuu for that nonsense

rip but i think the people they picked for social do a fine enough job. esp sakuchan and ryo (reprising his role from that ancient ass drama cd) for wil and rob respectively. legit it isn’t gonna get any better than that... whoever did the booking for that u did GOOD

#be my princess #bmp #zain tolstoy #yakov chernenkov #spoilers #??? i guess

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sailing-elitsha · 3 years

Text

Hallelujah

Thinking about a header for this report I am struggling, it’s from boring because of no wind from all directions in the doldrums, over: exited to come closer to the Amazon river, over: we saw Neptune, over: not being sure if we can do this up to total exhaustion. We have been so tired that we could not even show excitement and joy anymore by our safe arrival in Paramaribo, after a very difficult 11 days stretch. Let me first write everything down and see which heading we will choose.

Very quiet Dick said, “I saw you praying with your hands folded.” “Yes, I did that.” Whoever up in heaven, the universe or wherever feels I could have meant him or her: Thank you. Dick agreed.

Towards the end of this stretch, we could not think straight anymore, did not sleep because of the funny moves, Elitsha made, encouraged by Jip and Janneke, and the waves. Sometimes we really heeled onto our side after sliding down steep waves or swell. Realistically and objectively, there was no real danger, but at times it felt differently. Elitsha did a great job. And let’s be honest, while in a force 8, in gusts 45 knots on our wind vane at sea with a currant of 3,5 knots, 12 knots showing on our log, knowing shore was close even though you do not see a thing and to sail in a river mouth with low tide, you make one wrong move……… everything can happen. But we did not make a wrong move. Dick knows what he is doing, and I am not too bad a sailor too. Most importantly: when I was losing it and panicked there was Dick for me and when Dick was tired and miserable, I was there for him: Interesting self-studies of a relationship therapist, I am telling you. Do not do this if you don’t have a good relationship. But if you have good relationship, this is so special and amazing to go through together.

And… perhaps or most probably, this is normal and not a big thing for cruisers on an ocean crossing, but for us as beginning cruisers, it was a big thing. The challenge was, that for the last 4 days we hardly found a longer stretch of sleep than 1 or 2 hours and that breaks you at the end. That was, I think, the reason why we were desperate to arrive and stay somewhere for a while.

But let’s start at the beginning:

We started relaxed after leaving Fernado de Norunha. Although, sailing without wind is never relaxing. You are looking for wind all the times, changing your sails and finally if you can’t stand the slapping of the beams and sails anymore you start the motor and you get annoyed by the noise of he motor and the fact that you are a sailing boat and not sailing……all of those things. Fortaleza just didn’t want to come closer, and Suriname seemed unreachable far for us. The promise was that we at least will find the strong current which would push us along from Fortaleza to the Amazon delta and Suriname.

On the 8th of Mai at 2.23pm Brasilia time we saw Neptune and served him an Oude Jenever. He seemed to like it. We originally wanted to go and swim with Neptune but just at that time Neptune on his turn treated us with some wind and we made 7 knots: 3 of them from the current. But in the doldrums, you are happy with everything what moves you along. Anyway, he (Neptune) had to do it with the Jenever, and we kept on sailing.

Just before the Amazon river at the end of day 6 of 11 it started blowing. Yeah!!!!!!!! 180 miles a day and no motor anymore. That’s great. Forecast: 12-15 knots with gusts of 20 knot. Lovely!!!!! From late afternoon of day 7 the constant wind was 32 and the gusts up to 40, RAIN and it started with a close-by lightening flash and a thunder clap. And that carried on till close to Paramaribo. The funniest: Nothing of all was forecasted on the Iridium weather report: as I said: ENE wind 12 – 15 knots, gusts of 20 knots and some possible thundershowers, but in our case they were not gusts any more, but constant hard wind 30 knots plus for 3-4 days in a row. The Amazon, even we passed him on a big respectable distance, and later the Suriname river brought trees down to the sea. You had to have your eyes everywhere. A whale, a humpback, close to the Amazon, just next to Elitsha, I saw him thinking: you are here and not in Africa? (we see whales in Hout Bay on a regular base), that close he was. For weeks we didn’t see more than a handful ships. They were huge, okay, but we saw them on AIS far before we could see them in real. Now there were lots of fisher boats around who didn’t feel like using AIS (they don’t want to be seen by their colleagues), tankers from Venezuela who switch on AIS only last minute, and this all at night, without moon and stars assisting…...and then………..always this “gale wind”, waves and massive swell. Another thing made us nervous: the “shallow” water. After having sailed for month now in blue water, REALLY blue water of 4 000, 5 000 meters deep, we suddenly sailed up the plateau of the South American Continent: only 200 meters of depth. You should think: That’s deep enough, Sylke. Yes, but it’s just what you are used to, right?! And we were used to 4000 to 5000 meters. The water was green, closer to Suriname, when we had no more than 20 meters it was yellowish. The Amazonas brought trees with big branches and fields of green-brownish weed, leaves…. and always the strong wind, the rain and thundershowers and you can’t step out of this train or leave the movie……you have to hang in there. This paired with not sleeping and being exhausted and Navionics giving us problems at this very moment, we saw the lights of French Guyana as the lights of Suriname (same character) and panicked that we would have passed Paramaribo already. After having struck sails and heading Elitsha into the wind, to check out if we are right or wrong, we finally followed our way towards Suriname with only the Genua, which was still fast enough. Holger, one of our shore captains confirmed, that we have the entrance of the Suriname river 20 mile ahead and not behind us. Ufff, what a relief. We still didn’t see land………. only 60, 50, 40, 30 foot of water under Elitsha, no entrance buoy in sight……. Via radio we got in touch with MAS ( Suriname Harbour authorities). Anneke, our other shore captain, had arrange contact and allowance with them already. In times of Corona regulations this is essential. You can’t just go to a harbour. Everything has to be pre-arranged. When we called MAS, to ask if we were somewhere close to the entrance buoy of the river mouth, a deep voice in Dutch with a heavy Surinam’s accent answered: “ik zie jullie on AIS.” YES!!!!!!!!!!! Eventually, we saw not the entrance buoy, but the first green buoy and shared this” achievement” with him. His dry and short reaction: “Mevrouw, u bent op de goede weg!!!!!” (“Lady, you are on the right way”). Not more and not less, but it was like music to our ears. It was low tide and our echo sounder told us, 20, 10 and then 9,60 foot. Elitsha needs at least 5,50 foot of water to float. We motor sailed (to be more controllable). Still 30 knots of wind, rain, and buoys not visible all the time. On the river we almost got stuck twice in the mud: 6 foot on the depth sounder. We were blessed to have sailed for years on the Dutch Waddenzee. This was very similar. The only difference: ELITSHA is not a flatbottom with leeboards. It looked exactly like you sail from the Stortemelk into the Schuitegat towards Terschelling with low tide and it felt exactly like that.

I could tell you more about my fear of sailing over the many wrecks alongside of the coast, our chart showed us and Dick’s fear of hitting ground in the bottom of the waves (that’s why he looked for more shallow water without swell and waves), about comforting and encouraging each other that we will make it, that the fishermen would look out, that 30 - 40 knots of wind is actually not that bad and we are not in real danger but that we just needed some sleep and rest, after 2 antibiotic courses and, and……… And then we just arrived……just like that!!!! We picked a mooring buoy, made the dingy ready to go and went ashore. I did not eat for 4 days, actually ate the other way round (if you know what I mean). In the bar of the Marina, where everybody welcomed us, we ate and drank because we felt, we must celebrate. But the feeling was not there like in St Helena and Fernando. We went back to our brave ELITSHA and slept like we got paid for it. The next day we celebrated full time. We ate the whole day, talked to everybody who came across. We did 5 washes in the Marinas washing machine, had I don’t know how many showers and Elitsha got a very good clean up: you don’t want to know how it looked like inside her: flour everywhere, everything everywhere and because of the salt water everything was sticky, wet and just ick.

Now we have a fruit bowl and candles on the table, new sheets on our beds, nothing moves, and we can just move without getting thrown into one of the corners of the ship, fall of the toilet and stuff like that. Okay its rainy season and if it rains, it REALY RAINS, buckets of water coming down, but that is not such a problem: cleans the boat and fills the water tank. A bar with nice music and good food where you meet nice and friendly people, a shower, free internet: that is what we were craving for. We are on the Suriname river in Domburg, close to Paramaribo. We hear the howler monkeys on the other side of the river, where it’s already pure jungle. I am telling you, it’s REAL heaven.

I remember from the old days of sailing in Holland: the feeling of arriving after a tough stretch in bad weather and under poor conditions is unbeatable. Leaving under difficult condition makes you nervous, hanging in it, you just do what you must do, and arriving is heaven.

Wednesday we will go for the stamp in our passports and on Friday we will sail with ELITSHA 70 miles down the river to meet caiman, anaconda, howler monkey and jaguar in the real jungle. No Sonny and Crocked anymore, Dick as Tanzan and I will be Jane.

………to be continued.

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clowndaydreams · 4 years

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Yan!Marvus x Reader

I hope you all like it!

“Can you pass me the potato chips?” You looked over to your companion. Marvus nodded and reached over to get said bag from his side of the couch.

“here ya go.” You grunted a quick thank you to the clown and started to dig in. You had been hanging out with Marvus all day. You still couldn’t believe how friendly you’ve gotten with the superstar since you met him at that concert you went to. It had been a few perigrees since then, but the clown had since made a habit of inviting you over randomly when he was free. You were just happy that he remembered you at all.

Currently though, you were both relaxing on the couch and watching some Slam or Get Culled episodes that he was in. Right now, a season finale was playing. He was the final challenge for that season’s top 2. They had to rap battle him and whoever fared better was the winner. You glanced over at him. He was in his usual facepaint, but was casually wearing a neon yellow ripped tank top and matching pajama pants with some designer troll logo and ‘JUICY’ all over them. How he managed to look so hot in that would forever elude you. You snapped out of it when he started speaking again.

“u kno, i thought ricard was the better 1 outta those 2.” You pretended to glare at him.

“SPOILERS!” You jokingly huffed, lightly shoving his arm. It didn’t move, as you’d expect.

“LOL! XoD sorry fam, seen dis crap 1000 times alreddy.” Wait, then why did he let you pick this episode? Or even agree to watch this with you? If this was boring you could do something else. And as if he could read your mind, he held up a hand.

“dun worry bout dis. is chill or w/e. butt srsly, u kno who gunna win.”

“Still! I wanna watch it!” You giggled. You both watched on in silence as Marvus was brought on to surprise the contestants.

“How were they behind the scenes?” You asked as you watched the confessionals for both of the contestants.

“ricards moirail b a clown, so me n him knew each other alreddy. he wuz p chill i guess lol.”

“What about Krayaa?”

“turns out she wuz a fangirl. foamin at the mouth n erythng.”

“Really?!” You turned to him to try and see if he was lying. He looked almost bored about it all. Like you were both talking about the weather or something. You wished you could be so relaxed about meeting a rabid fangirl and somehow living to tell the tale. Seadwellers were supposed to be stronger and more durable than landdwellers. At least, that was according Polypa anyway. Huh, you had to remember to check on her later after you got home too.

“ye. she wanted 2 pail after the shoot.” Your jaw dropped. Krayaa was a seadweller! Did he have to listen to her? She could have killed him for not listening!

“Nahhh, no worries,, the contract she signed for the ep woulda had her disqualified and mah bodyguards woulda whooped her b4 she had a chance. ;op” He chuckled. “If she managed 2 get thru them, I aint no wimp.” He added, flexing his arms a little to prove his point. You almost couldn’t stop staring. He had to know what he was doing to you…right? Granted, this was a crush you had no intention of pursuing. If you were speaking honestly, Marvus was a guy who probably didn’t want commitment due to his lifestyle. Even then, he had people throwing themselves at him constantly. People his own species. People who were a lot better fitting with his general aesthetic and not some poor wandering alien that he would DM when he was high when they both should have been sleeping. Your own concepts of relationships and types of love were different. But you could dream, right? You were content with just having him as your designated hot friend anyway. …That did mean you were allowed to drool over him in your mind. As long as it doesn’t get creepy to him. Yeah. You were fine.

“u gud (Y/N)? u tryna lure snacks into ur mouth or smth?” You snapped out of your stupor.

“Ew! Gross! I don’t eat bugs like you weirdos!”

“it aint gross. literally free snacks u can catch. :o)” He laughed.

“Where I’m from they’re gross!” Granted, there were places that did eat crickets and the like on Earth, but you would never tell him that.

“dun knock it till ya try it.” He got up and left the room, returning after a moment with a small box.

“…What is that.” You had a sinking feeling you knew what it was.

“chirp grubs.” He opened it and there they were. Disgusting caramelized crickets.

“I can’t.” You shook your head.

“more 4 me lol.” You looked away as he ate a few of the crickets. You looked back at him when his palmhusk rang. It sounded like a clown horn version of one of his songs. Fitting, honestly.

He glanced at it and rolled his eyes before silencing the phone.

“Who was that?”

“thottie.”

“Oh…” He looked bored again. Not good. What could you talk to him about to keep him interested?

“Uh…You ever get tired of the fans trying to aggressively pail you?” Ok, that wasn’t the best choice for conversation. Your bad.

“i meannn….in the beginning yeah. now its kinda the norm 4 me ufeelme?”

“Yeah, I guess. Does it ever make you feel like you can’t have a relation-er, quadrant?” You assumed it would, but that would also come with fame in general, wouldn’t it? You weren’t sure. Then again, if he didn’t want-

“kinda. i think its kinda funny how i can attract psychos, fans and thots, but not my crushes.” You sat up straight. Marvus had a crush?

“Wait. You…uh…are pale or um….red? for somebody?” You didn’t have the best grasp on quadrant terms.

“lol sumtimes i forget your an alien.” He leaned back onto the couch.

“butt yeah, i have a few crushes at the mo.” He smiled, staring at the ceiling. Few. He has more than one crush right now. That soft smile said it all. He had it bad.

“…Can you tell me who they are?” He looked over at you and looked sheepish.

“i…dun think is a gud idea.”

“Please? I have to know who the great Marvus Xoloto has a crush on.”

“u kno 1. itll be awk af :o(“ Now you had to know. Now you were thinking about whether or not Marvus had a type. What if they were all mega hot models? Wait! Did he have a crush on Chahut? They would totally have to know each other. Who else did you both know??? He heard of Cirava, but you didn’t think they talked. Who???

“…kk fine. only if u slam a faygo tho.” You gave him a look.

“Isn’t Faygo…not for non-clowns?”

“is just us. whos gunna kno?”

“You promise nobody’s gonna know?”

“on my life. u slam a faygo, n ill tell u who my flush be.” You thought it over. You remembered tasting the stuff at clown church when you went you went with Chahut that one time. Just a sip left you a bit tipsy. A whole bottle may have rendered you unable to be coherent enough to even process who his flush crush was. Would it be worth it? You felt a choice coming on. Either way you had to drink a certain amount in order to maybe try and learn this random troll’s identity. The question was, do you try and counter his offer or just slam the entire bottle and hope for the best?

…

It would be better to respect your own limits. A bunch of your friends had lectured you a few times over putting yourself out just to potentially make a friend. This would piss them off and would probably not end in your favor even if you did decide to just go with it anyway.

“How much faygo do I have to drink?”

“hm…” He got up, went to the kitchen and got a small can of Grape Faygo, a normal bottle for one and a whole 2 liter bottle. “imma b nice. u get a choice. u gotta try 2 finish the can. u get 1 q with the name if u finish the can. Smol bottle gets u 2 qs and the name n the 2L gets u as many qs as u liek. fair enough 2 u?”

…Now you wanted to chug the 2 liter. You haven’t even seen anyone try to down that other than the Grand High Blood once when you took Karako to clown church for the first time. But that guy was a clown and he is HUGE. You, not so much. But, you chose to respect yourself for once. You’d see how you felt after the small can and go from there. You picked it up, opened the can and took a deep breathe. Powers that be, let this not wreck you and let this answer be worth it. If he cops out with his answers, you would try to hurt him. You started chugging. You did your best to try and treat it like a shot like Cirava taught you so you wouldn’t taste the overly sweet flavor too much. After a moment of light agony and attempting to not drown in the soda, you reached the end of the can. You slammed it onto the coffee table and started panting. Ok, you weren’t feeling woozy like before. Maybe those tiny sips when you went to clown church helped your body get used to it.

“u gunna try the otha bottles?” You managed to shake your head. You weren’t gonna do that again. Your head started hurting. You looked over at him. Were his eyes always so vibrantly purple? Woah, now they’re flashing purple. What the heck? Was this Faygo high? You now understood why all the other clowns were so goofy after drinking a cup of this stuff. Crap, now your head was starting to hurt.

“Wh-Who….who is it..?” You started feeling like you were gonna pass out. You laid down on the couch. You needed to close your eyes. That was way too much for you. You felt Marvus pick you up into his arms.

“ye…after u wake up bb.” Wake up? Wait, did he just call you a pet name?! You were about to question him when he tilted his head.

“dangg,, u managed 2 stay awake with chuckles and faygo? ur stronger than i thought. Soz bout this babes.” His eyes became blindingly vibrant again and you blacked out.

#marvus #marvus xoloto #yandere!marvus #yandere!marvus x reader #olive fics #Let me know your thoughts!

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littlemeangreen · 4 years

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Since you like my alt-Marauders (WHICH IM SO HAPPY FOR) how about challenge for headcanons of them interacting with the Smashers, as allies or foes or just a chance encounter? No need to, I just thought it might be something you'd have fun with!

@thecorteztwins k I'm suddenly in a big writing mood so!! FINALLY getting around to this I'm so sorry sksksk

For anyone who doesn't know: Thecorteztwins has an amazing au where she's collected Haven (thicc angel lady who was possessed by a demon disguised as a baby), Claudine (Miss Sinister),Madelyne (clone of Jean Grey), Pyro, Sebastian Shaw, Shinobi Shaw and sometimes Alice (a clone being tested by Claudine)!

I feel like the first few days are really testy. Everyone's got some bone to pick, the usual. But the biggest thing? The name. A brief encounter with paparazzi ends with their name and the reactions go from Pyro and Claudine scoffing at how silly it sounds and what a rip off it is (Pyro being a writer?? U KNOW he wouldn't stand for Alt Marauders) to Shaw sighing about the fact that he's been stuck on a team with a cliche super nickname.

Then there's personal names because once again, Pryo and Shinobi both agree that everyone needs a name to reapply make them unique! Hardly anyone goes for it, ranging from Haven's soft "no thank you" to Shaw punting Pyro into a wall. Madelyne is slightly soft for Pyro's RPG themed alias ideas for her and less than impressed for Shinobi's idea of "Mad Milf".

Alice....I'm definitely thinking she gets nicknamed "White Rabbit" or "Wonderland" because; 1) no one can leave her out of getting a name. 2) Pyro 100% would give a cheesy media related name and 3) I like the very small connections of white rabbit to the white and red queens in Alice in Wonderland (and 4) rabbits always get experimented on :).

Gamma Gals having amazing duos with the ladies of the Marauders? Absolutely!!

Jen and Haven, being an amazing duo and I feel like they'd be the two who would have that issue where they're the only ones who can save the day and end up learning a lot from each other? Haven is probably thanking her stars that she finally gets to meet a hero who believes in her kindness just as much as she does (S H A W).

Just....Haven being able to meet an even bigger woman and trading stories and being GalPals(TM). Its a really interesting concept to me that Haven is someone who was deliberately used to destroy and Jen is someone who's entire identity is formed around smashing and destruction. It's probably rather cathartic to be working with someone who purely doesn't want to resort to violence immediately and who has been used (Haven by her demon and Jen by different people).

But also learning something from each other? Haven being able to see that sometimes you do need to fight for what you love and Haven proves to Jen that even after all this time, it isn't the muscle or power that can save everything, it's her and her drive and will alone. Catch Red and Shaw scoffing about it.

Speaking of, those two could either REALLY clash or really get along, no imbetweens. Have we found another old man for Shaw to wrestle with, Roman style??? (Ngl that would be hot in a sick way)

Skaar and Shinobi? Both long haired, beautiful, sons of big figures, grew up in abusive environments,,,,its a duo. Just put Shinobi into a mini team with Skaar and Daken and we have the "Black haired brood squad"

Rick and Pyro working together to have a joint production??? FIrebomb productions baby!! My podcast ideas? Absolutely would happen when you combine these two and its hell. Aka; Rick and Pyro gossip on their podcast and give advice to starting heroes as immortals and smack talk. But also outside of that I imagine they can get along a lot in the "had a hard time accepting stuff" and "we were heroes who often did a lot for others and got disregarded and hurt for it".

Pyro: Hey if I set you on fire can you become a flaming bowling ball

Rick: well let's fine out!!

Red and Shaw....there's a lot there. Both are old men who have been pressed on in their lives and affected by masculine presences in their lives...both are regarded as awful shitbags but they're both MUCH more complex and driven by a need for power and stability...lots of thoughts here.

Shaw and Red are one team you do NOT wanna mess with because two old men who are perfectly willing to do what's needed? Red can respect a man willing to get his hands dirty with clear means and Shaw can probably like a guy who has the drive to do what he believes is the better good. Also big hulk man who can give you endless power.

But also differences in them because Shaw abused and continues to abuse Shinobi while Red neglected and most likely emotionally abused Betty but it seemingly trying to make a difference in it now that she's come back? I feel like these two probably have a SUPER in depth conversation when forced to or alone and then never speak about it again.

Spending of Betty! Her and Madelyne?? What a DUO they're litreally a great mix because Maddie is a clone of Jean, Betty was assumed to be a clone at first and often has to suffer being the "domintrix" she hulk. Both have serious issues with their mental health and identities as well as dealing with their lives being ruled or devoted to men who ruin them. Both want freedom and have such passion! I just....so much to say about these two and the similarities. They're both red.

But yeah Phoenix and Harpy?? Skksks Maddie voice: I'm FIRE HARPY nOW

Am I still yelling for her hero name to be Griffin because of how mystical they are and being a bird and lion??? Yeah.

Also sad thoughts but,,,gals talking about their lost kids (Maddie with Nate and Betty suffered a miscarriage induced from stress), the stress of their lovers and who they've lost to (Jean, Emma, Caiera, Jarella,,,) and being manipulated by men for their power (Maddie by Sinister into Goblyn queen and Betty by Leader into Red She-hulk, Harpy, both died).

Anyway point is I can fully see them two just CLICKING or fighting a lot at first until someone points out just how similar they are. Then? Maddie and Betty out here being the brand new Thelma and Louise. Red and Black styles, willing to use force but protect the innocent, both take Alice and this cute kid that Betty absolutely mother henned in her run and,,,two moms and their talented daughters pls step out the way sir.

Tbh I don't think I have much for Samuel apart form him having a small crush on Claudine (and like,,,,not in That Sense, but Samuel does have a big history of falling for smart women or just...OP women). And then a series of gags where Haven wants to know him because he's like Shaw but also incredibly different in thinking and everytime she walks into the room,,,,Samuel is doing some horrific experiment and she just NOPES OUT. Shaw wants to make use of this but it goes horribly wrong oh God why did he try.

Lyra! I just....feel like there could be a lot for her and Claudine and Alice. Lyra was genetically engineered to be used in a war and was bullied relentlessly for being "half man" which...is rather transphobic and sexist but that's her storyline and it's too deeply embedded for me to headcanon over it so...sighs.

But yeah!!! Lyra taking Alice and giving her a night of being able to just....be whoever that night, not being pressured to have an identity of the sorts from anyone and just being able to fight people with a giant green woman. Probably has a lot of deep talks later that night with Lyra, sitting over a building and eating ice cream because it was one of the first things Bruce shared with her and a first realisation that Lyra could be more than someone's daughter.

100% would picture this with Carmilla (Lyra's sister and...also messy kinda clone) or Laura Kinney hopping along and!! Clone weapon woman team!! I could GET INTO this!!! Just...pls marvel give me a team of women overcoming abuse and forming identities among each other and cool women,,,,

But also Lyra admittedly would respect Claudine for her skills and her...tenacity? Yeah, that. She has strength and guts and Lyra probably actually tells her that she'd rather get experimented on by Miss Sinister than some pig of a man and Claudine just "thhhanks?"

Hulk,,,,funny enough I don't think I have many ideas for him yet? Probably gets into a fair few fights with Shaw and Haven over different stuff, Maddie has a bome to pick for Betty,,,I am,,,blank.

I feel like a lot of things for him would be Haven trying to break through into him, maybe each of the Marauders dealing with different parts of the system? I can imagine Shinobi and Pyro don't have a high opinion of the oversized dad until Bruce turns super ashen pale and immediately Joe starts yelling for some whisky and GIRLS....and a fella or two for matchstick and ghost baby here.

Maddie thinking that he's another Scott and then finding out that Hulk's thing is more complicated than Scott simply looking for Jean again. Also Maddie demands that she will forcefully adopt Hulk's kids and these two bonding over abusive dads???

But uh,,,that's about it!! Hope you liked it!!! I probably could easily delve into more thoughts if there's anything specific for me to set my mind on.

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