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#yes i've seen the movies a hundred times
angel-eyes05 · 11 months
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to leave the warmest bed i've ever known
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pairing: spiderwoman!reader x miguel o’hara 
summary: after miguel’s fight with miles, you confront him in his office
warnings: this whole thing is basically one big argument there’s SO much angst, implied suicide attempt, HUGE ATSV SPOILERS DO NOT READ THIS IF YOU HAVEN'T SEEN THIS MOVIE, im projecting a little in some parts of this ngl (i cried writing a certain section of this, you'll know it when you read it lmao), mentions and descriptions of blood, gore, and death
word count:  4.1k
notes: i watched the movie yesterday…and miguel is on my mind. but i remember reading this namor x reader fanfic after i watched wakanda forever of a similar idea to this and i loved it so this is HEAVILY inspired by that fic, but just make it miguel. i would link it but ngl that was so long ago and i dont remember the author. if i end up finding it again ill put it here. also, just pretend miguel has been doing this whole spider society thing for a couple of years at least, it just needs to work like that for this ik its probably not canon but just roll with it lmao. and yes the title is a taylor swift lyric im so glad you noticed (im so sorry she's in my brain rn with the eras tour)
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The anger boiled up inside your chest as you stormed your way across the lobby. Hundreds of different Spider-Man variants were scattered across the area, some more injured than the others. It sickened you sometimes. How he had so many people under his grasp and just decided to throw some of them at the walls sometimes, not caring how hard they hit the floor because they were all just ammo to him. How despite his denials of it, that’s probably what your role was to him as well. Nothing more than a bullet in his massive machine gun.
You normally tried not to think about it, how his determination towards his goal sometimes meant lack of care for others. But this time he had just gone too far. You always had a soft spot for Miles, watching closely on him whenever Miguel would let you go though scanners of all the different variants. You admired his struggle, but eventual success to taking up the previous Peter’s mantle, and always hated how Miguel talked about him. You knew there was no way Miles could’ve asked for any of this. For the pressures and struggles of being a Spider-Man, for everything causing such a strained relationship with his parents, for the death of his uncle, and for what will be the eventual death of his father. You definitely didn’t.
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Ok lets do this one last time. Eh, whatever, there’s probably gonna be 50 other introductions after this one so it doesn’t really matter.
Being Earth-837’s Spider-Man has never been easy. Especially since you were bit when you were only 13 (another reason you sympathized with Miles and Gwen). Your life had followed the order of canon events to a perfect T, your older brother killed in a fight with a robber only two months after you were bit. You tried to overcome the burden of your powers by trying to live as normal of a teenage life as possible, but it was mostly in vain, having to give up multiple friendships and relationships in fear of those you love getting hurt. This was only elevated when your boyfriend Peter was murdered in the crossfire of an encounter with Doc Ock. You didn’t understand. You couldn’t. What you had done to deserve all of this. All you did was just be in the wrong place at the wrong time. You wonder sometimes what would happen if someone was in the same place you were when you got bit. If someone else went to the closed down area of that museum and ran into that spider. That stupid spider that ruined your life. Those thoughts slowly started to disappear for a bit. For a few years things were easy. Things seemed like they were finally going in your favor.
You were 25 when it happened. The last canon event. Ever since you were a little girl you hated your mother’s job. Losing nights of sleep over if she would come home or not. She always did though. She was good at her job. Too good though. Good enough to get promoted to police captain, which for who you were, was basically sealing her fate. She saved so many people that day. You were too busy fighting Venom to notice how much collateral damage you were causing in the process. Your mother’s job was to evacuate all the citizens away from the fight. She died shielding a child from incoming debris. A noble way to go. But god was it gruesome. You found her after the fight was over, two metal poles impaling her. One through her stomach and one straight through her face, pools of blood growing bigger below her as she was left there, all the paramedics busy trying to save the heavily injured. You froze when you finally recognized her, unable to at first due to how mutilated her face was from the pole. Suddenly, you were transported back to being a six year old, falling asleep outside the door to your mother’s bedroom so you would know exactly when she would come home. Purposefully falling asleep in her arms so that she couldn’t go anywhere.
When you used the key she had given you to get into her apartment that night, and you slept in her room, desperate to intake anything left of her before she was fully gone. You doused yourself in her perfume so it still felt like she was standing right behind you. You had always loved her smell. The smell of vanilla, curl product, and fancy perfume. They were attached to memories you had of her. Trying on her heels when you were a kid to try and be fancy like her. Smelling her hair in the morning before school to comfort you before she left for work. Despite all of this bringing you comfort, all it really did was cause further denial in your heart. That one day you were gonna hear the keys clacking in the keyhole to your apartment one more time. That’s all you really wanted. You would give everything up in a heartbeat just to hear her police scanner go off one last time. But it wasn’t going to. And it was your fault. Deep down you knew it was. You should’ve done a better job controlling the debris. You had always been a messy fighter, but you didn’t know it was going to mean anything until it was too late. 
How you got up to the top of that building is still a blur to you to this day. But next thing you know, you were looking at the New York City skyline from the very top of the Empire State Building. And at the very edge too. You heard some sounds behind you, but you just decided it was the wind howling from how high up you were. You were just so tired. Everything and everyone you loved was cursed all because of you. And with your mother as the most recent victim, you decided you finally had enough. You took a deep breath, eyes overflowed with water, as you set your foot forward.
Your plummet was interrupted by a sudden contact you felt to your forearm. Shock filled your body as you turned around to look at what had stopped your attempt. The blue hand was massive, nearly wrapping back around onto itself as it held onto you for dear life. You finally looked up at face that the hand belonged to. The mask that covered the massive figure was a strange one. Blue with strange red silhouettes for the eyes. It kind of reminded you of…your own costume? That couldn’t be though there was no way. This must be the afterlife or something. You already jumped and that's why you didn’t remember your way up to the top. This was some kind of creature trying to stop you from jumping down to hell below. His breaths were heavy and loud, almost like he was desperate to stop you. This convinced you that this was real, which caused you to try to escape from his grip. He was stronger than you, and was putting up a huge fight. You were slick though. Once you were out of his hand, you closed your eyes and quickly made your jump. Everything flashed before your eyes. Your brother, Peter, your mom. You were hoping to see them soon. This was very quickly interrupted again when you suddenly stopped falling. Something had attached itself to your stomach. You opened your eyes. A web? This web was much different than yours though. It was glowing a bright, neon orange.
The man was holding onto the end of it tightly with both hands. His mask then disappeared to show his face. His was long, matching how big the rest of his body was, defined cheek bones sticking out. Brown wavy hair slicked back with a few loose strands flying out in the wind. The look of desperation on his face stook out most of all. Why did he care so much? He didn’t know you, and you definitely didn’t know him. “Let me pull you up. Please,” he said to you between shaky pants. You stared at him for a bit before nodding. He slowly pulled you up with the string of his web, each move more careful than the last. As soon as your feet were planted safely back on the roof of the building, he wrapped you up in his massive arms. You appreciated the gesture, but you didn’t return it, still very confused about why he was so concerned. He was so big around your body though, you couldn’t help but feel a little comforted, feeling his still shaky breaths against the hairs of your neck. Soon after, he clicked on some buttons on his neon orange watch and led you into a portal.
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The rest is history. You’re grateful he found you that day. It allowed you to meet so many people, Peter B., Jess, Gwen, Hobie, Ben, Pavitr, Margo. They all related to you and you felt like you could share things with them that you couldn’t do with anyone else. You had grown especially close to Peter and Jess, both of them having been in the game for a long time, just like you. They both knew how you felt, having lost so much and growing so tired after so many years. Peter even named you as Mayday’s godmother when she was born, a gesture that caused you to nearly kill him with your hug. Miguel though was different. He wasn’t nearly as social as the rest of your friends, but you found yourself having much more intimate moments with him (in more ways then one). You eventually found out why Miguel was so concerned for you the day you met. He had taken interest in your abilities early into looking for variants for his little “project”, but refrained from roping you into something so dangerous while you were still in your teens.
Once you were old enough though, he started paying more and more attention, hoping to catch you in a fight and recruit you then. But he was always pulled away with more important duties to attend to. That was until he witnessed your canon event. He had seen it happen so many times before through his scanners. It was going to happen. It had to in order for your universe to not collapse in on itself. But for some reason, yours hurt more than the rest to him. Especially how you coped with it. Seeing you wrap yourself up in her blankets and clothes broke his heart. He knew where this would lead to. That’s why he was there that day. To save you. He had to, or he wouldn’t be able to forgive himself. You got your own watch immediately, along with your own room in the Spider Society headquarters. He stayed close with you for the first month of you being a member of the team. When he wasn’t out on missions, he was with you. You didn’t really know what to label you two as, but whatever was going on, you liked it. And he did too.
That is until Miles came into the picture. Once Miles was bit, all hell broke loose for Miguel. He was always in some alternate dimension catching some Spider-Man villain who got out and rangled them back over here, falling back over to you more beat up and bruised than the last time. You couldn’t imagine how much stress he was under, the fate of the entire multiverse up to him. You had some ways of helping him relieve his stress, but you wish you could convince him that he wasn’t alone in this. But nothing ever got through to him. He had become distant, aloof even. You tried bringing it up to Jess every so often, but she would just brush it off.
“That’s how he’s always been.” Not to you he hasn’t. This week has been hell though. With Spot making it over to Miles, Miguel had been going into rages all week. You had put up with it for now, but that was all about to stop. Watching how harsh he was being on Miles, throwing so many Spider-Men at an innocent boy, risking all of their lives in the process. Disregarding everything Gwen and Peter were feeling and then throwing Gwen back into her broken world with nothing. He had gone too far. No one else was going to stand up to him about it, so you knew it had to be you. Maybe he would listen, maybe he wouldn’t. It didn’t really matter. He just needed to hear it.
“It’s not worth it you know.” The voice snapped you out of your thoughts, stopping you in your tracks. “You know how stubborn he gets over these things,” said Jess, trying to convince you to save your breath. “I don’t care. I have to at least try,” you responded, monotonically. “I just don’t understand how you can follow him so blindly and not see what he’s doing is wrong.” “Because he isn’t wrong. I don’t know about you, but I’m not just gonna stand by and let some kid’s stupid decisions destroy another Earth,” Jess argued. “He’s just trying to save his dad, I can’t understand how that makes him such a bad person,” you said, finally turning around to face her, shocked when she was closer to you than expected.
“You know exactly why. Don’t be so naive, y/n,” she shot back. “You can’t stop me,” you said staring straight into her. She shrugged. “Then I can’t help you.” She began to walk away. You did to, until you heard her say. “You don’t know how much he cares for you.” You turned around to face her again, but her back was still to you, her head tilted ever so slightly to look at you. “If you really do care for the kid, watch what you say to Miguel right now. Cause you might just give him the final push he needs to do what needs to be done.” You didn’t give her a response, and just simply kept walking. You felt Jess’ eyes on your back as you entered the elevator to get up to Miguel’s office.
The elevator ride up felt longer than it should’ve, as you tried to gather all of your thoughts and emotions together so even if he didn’t listen, your words would still stick with him in some way. You didn’t necessarily want to hurt him (though your fists were telling you otherwise), but you did want him to be aware of what he’s done. Once the doors finally opened, all of that work flew out the window as rage took over your body again, seeing Miguel up there looking at the scanners. The fact that he looked just as normal as he always does made you furious. It’s like nothing happened.
“You know, I could hear you coming in from the lobby,” he said, almost stopping you in your tracks. You hated when he did that. Claiming that he knew what your every move was going to be. Like you were under his control or something. “Yeah, well then you must’ve heard me talking to Jess, which means you know exactly what this is about,” you shot back, stopping to where you could see him perched up there. “Why don’t you just save me the conversation about morality and just come up here and kick my ass already. It’ll save both of us time,” he said, not even taking his eyes off the scanners to look down at you. This only added to your fury. “That’s not what I’m here for Miguel, so don’t you dare try to twist my words here. What you did to that kid was fucked up and you know it.” “Oh yeah, then why didn’t you try to do anything to stop me?” he questioned.
“Because I’m not stupid Miguel. I’m not gonna try to take down hundreds of Spider-Men at once.” “Oh, cause you’re so much better than that?” This wasn’t like him at all. That gentle, kind, and caring Miguel you once knew was gone, taken over by some sort of personal vendetta he had against Miles. “Listen, I don’t know what’s going on with you, but this all needs to stop before it gets taken too far. You’re getting into a fight you can’t win. That kid’s strong and so are his allies. And if you go any further into this, I won’t be here to help you.” He stayed still and only turned his head to look at you. “And what makes you think that you’re so important to my plan that it’ll fall apart if you leave? Have you really become that pretentious?”
Your body froze. Have I really? No no no, that’s exactly what he wants. If you begin to doubt yourself now, you’ll stay and nothing will change. You knew you were right. He was trying to crumble you down, but you wouldn’t let that happen. “And you really think that one kid is going to ruin something that you’ve been working for for years? How insecure you’ve become.” “You have no idea what you’re talking about,” he said, turning back away from you. You did the same, wiping off your face in anger. “I hate it when you do tha-,” you said as you turned back around, but were cut off to find Miguel standing there right in front of you. He was close. Too close to your liking, although in any other circumstance you would’ve found this attractive.
He tilted his head up, but his eyes were down staring daggers into yours. You hated how much he tried to make himself seem more superior to you. “You have no idea what you’re talking about,” he repeated, this time slower as if you were a child. “He’s just a kid Miguel,” you said in a low, quiet voice. “An anomaly. And a dangerous one at that.” “God Miguel, all he wants to do is protect his dad, do you know how insane you sound right now?” you said letting out a slight laugh when you finished. You backed away from him a little. “He doesn’t know how much damage he’ll do with this. Saving his father will only prolong the inevitable. His world will be gone within hours if he does this. All I’m trying to do is make him understand,” he tried to explain. “By trying to kill him.” “You always have to exaggerate the situation,” he said palming his face. “But that’s essentially what you’re trying to do isn’t it? Why not snuff out the problem entirely by taking him out!”
He signed and began to walk away while you were talking, bringing up your anger even more. “Yeah, use all the power you’ve accumulated over the years and just take out the small problem! Except this isn’t just a fly on the wall Miguel. This is a child! An innocent boy who didn’t ask for any of this to happen to him, just like how we didn’t. I get it, I’m sorry that this job is stressful, I really am. But that gives you zero right to act the way you are!” You were screaming at him at this point. You didn’t want to. You didn’t want your emotions to get the best of you. But he was being too stubborn. This was the only way you thought you could get to him. You might not have wanted to, but you needed to hurt him now. It was the only way.
“You can’t be so power blind that you refused to accept the fact that there could be a way around Captain Davis’ death. You said we saved Earth’s before, I’m sure we could do it again.” Your anger only kept rising when he kept walking away and didn’t respond. “This is a personal thing isn’t it?” you asked calmly. You knew it was working now when he stopped walking. “Yeah, it it. You won’t let Miles get his happy ending. Because why should he be pardoned of his burden while the rest of us have suffered so much. While you’ve suffered so much.” The answer to your question was confirmed when Miguel stayed silent. “Just because you didn’t get the life you wanted Miguel, doesn’t mean you have the right to stop other people from getting theirs.”
You knew you overstepped the line when Miguel turned around and started walking towards you, fury burning in his crimson eyes. “Yeah, so what! What if that is what this is all about! You should know better than anyone how much this job takes away from you!” he screamed at you, backing you up into a wall. “Why should he get to be let off so easily, while people like you and me have to suffer so much? Don’t try to turn me into the villain here when I know you’re thinking the exact same thing, y/n.” He wasn’t entirely wrong. You had wondered it at some points. “I won’t let you turn this onto me Miguel, this is about you,” you fired back. “Oh no, you’re not getting off that easily. I know you’re thinking it. And you’re right. Why should Miles get let off so easily when you’ve lost so much.” He held your hands in his, trying to connect to you. “And you have mi vida. You’ve had so much taken from you and it’s unfair. Why should he only have lost one person when you’ve had three taken from you. Your brother, Peter, your moth-.”
He was cut off by your hand striking against his face in a harsh blow. “If you’re smart, and I know you are, you’ll keep those three out of them. I won’t let you drag their names through the dirt for something as stupid as this.” You both stood there for a while, both of your eyes looking towards the ground, hoping it would open up to swallow you both as an escape from this god awful conversation. You never wanted it to come to this. In all honesty, you cared for Miguel. You might’ve even loved him, if you were even capable of doing such a thing. You hoped he felt the same way about you, but in a job like this, he always had at least one wall up around you. It just wasn’t worth it anymore. You were too tired to keep trying for something that was most likely going to fall apart in the end. 
“You’re still going after him aren’t you?” you asked, finally breaking the silence. Miguel looked back up at you. “You can’t ask me not to. You know better than anyone why this is so important to me.” He moved his hand up to cup your cheek and kissed your forehead gently. You let it sit there for a minute out of habit before pushing it off your face. “And you must know why I can’t stay anymore then.” His shoulders dropped. “Whatever this thing between us is. It’s over. I can’t stay beside someone who can’t see what he’s doing is wrong.” Miguel’s dropped hand turned into a fist of anger. “Fine,” he spat in your face. “I don’t need someone like you in my way. You’re just a liability to this anyways.” He began to walk away from you back to his scanners. “Just don’t come crying back over to me when your little plan doesn’t work out, cause I won’t help you.” He used his webs to pull himself back up to the platform to keep looking for Miles. You stood there for a second, gathering yourself.
Five years. Out the door just like that. It bewildered you how easily a bond like you two had could be broken all because of one teenager. You began to make your way for the door before you said. “When this is all over…don’t try to find me.” He didn’t respond. Once the elevator doors opened, you rushed inside, desperate to get away from him. So many thoughts rushed through your head as the doors closed and you sunk down back to the lobby to leave. You didn’t have much of a plan. This could end up being a horrible idea. Your gut told you it was the right thing to do though. And that was enough for you. You walked out of the headquarters lobby with a new heart and a new mind, ready to take action for your new plan.
First though, you had to find Gwen.
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a/n: god that took longer than it should've. dw dw i'll do a part 2 if enough people ask for one. im not 100% sure how im gonna do a part 2 cause yk....idk how beyond the spiderverse is gonna go so tbh, we're just gonna make it go the way i want lmao. thanks for reading, ik this was kind of a long one lmao
NEXT CHAPTER
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vinceaddams · 8 months
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Early 18th (and late 17th) century fashions are so under-utilized in vampire media and I think it's a damn shame.
I don't actually think I've ever seen a single image of a vampire character in an early 18th century suit. Hardly any movies set in that era either, and hardly any historical costumers who do it. (Even my beloved gay pirate show set in 1717 takes nearly all of its 18th century looks from the second half of the century. Not enough appreciation for baroque fashion!!)
Yes I love late 18th century fashion as much as anyone, and 19th century formal suits are all very well and good, but if you want something that says old, dead, wealthy, and slightly dishevelled, then the 1690's-1730's are where it's at.
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(Retrato del Virrey Alencastre Noroña y Silva, Duque de Linares, ca. 1711-1723.)
There was so much dark velvet, and so many little metallic buttons & buttonholes. Blood red linings were VERY fashionable in this era, no matter what the colour of the rest of the suit was.
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(Johann Christoph Freiherr von Bartenstein by Martin van Meytens the Younger, 1730's.)
The slits on the front of the shirts are super low, they button only at the collar, and it's fashionable to leave most of the waistcoat unbuttoned so the shirt sticks out, as seen in the above portraits.
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(Portrait of Anne Louis Goislard de Montsabert, Comte de Richbourg-le-Toureil, 1734.)
Waistcoats are very long, coats are very full, and the cuffs are huge. But the sleeves are on the shorter side to show off more of that shirt, and the ruffles if it has them! Creepy undead hands with long nails would sit so nicely under those ruffles.
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(1720's-30's, LACMA)
Embroidery designs are huge and chunky and often full of metallic threads, and the brocade designs even bigger.
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(1730's, V&A, metal and silk embroidery on silk satin.)
Sometimes they did this fun thing where the coat would have contrasting cuffs made from the same fabric as the waistcoat.
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(Niklaus Sigmund Steiger by Johann Rudolf Huber, 1724.)
Tell me this look isn't positively made for vampires!
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(Portrait of Jean-Baptiste de Roll-Montpellier, 1713.)
(Yeah I am cherry-picking mostly red and black examples for this post, and there are plenty of non-vampire-y looking images from this time, but you get the idea!)
And the wrappers (at-home robes) were also cut very large, and, if you could afford it, made with incredible brocades.
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(Portrait of a nobleman by Giovanni Maria delle Piane, no date given but I'd guess maybe 1680's or 90's.)
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(Circle of Giovanni Maria delle Piane, no date given but I'd guess very late 17th or very early 18th century.)
Now that looks like a child who's been stuck at the same age for a hundred years if I ever saw one!
I don't know as much about the women's fashion from this era, but they had many equally large and elabourate things.
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(1730's, Museo del Traje.)
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(Don't believe The Met's shitty dating, this is a robe volante from probably the 1720's.)
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(Mantua, c. 1708, The Met. No idea why they had to be that specific when they get other things wrong by entire decades but ok.)
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(Portrait of Duchess Colavit Piccolomini, 1690's.)
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(Maria van Buttinga-van Berghuys by Hermannus Collenius, 1717.)
Sometimes they also had these cute little devil horn hair curls that came down on either side of the forehead.
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(Viago in drag Portrait of a lady, Italian School, c. 1690.)
Enough suave Victorian vampires, I want to see Baroque ones! With huge wigs and brocade coat cuffs so big they go past the elbow!
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allysunny · 3 months
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Hello 👋 can I pls request dating and jealousy headcanons for Bale! Batman? The reader works in his company and is very sweet and generous? Thank you ❤️
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Dating and Jealousy Headcanons | Bale!Bruce Wayne x Fem!Reader
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Words: 6k words
Warnings: None, I would say? Workplace relationship, if that's a tag, hahaha. Jealous and overprotective Bruce, one (1) makeout session and I don't think anything else? Do correct me if I'm wrong.
A/N: Hello everyone! Here's another one of my Bruce asks! I had a really fun time writing it - I love this man so much omg. I hope you guys have as much fun reading it as I had writing it!
Also I apologize if I got any of HR functions and tasks wrong, please do not kill me if they're not correct, I had to do some research, hahaha! Also, I've just realised how vague the information on Wayne Enterprises is. Like, what the hell do they do? I've been rewatching the movies because my family never has, and they're never clear about it lol. Except for the first movie and the whole "Thomas Wayne wouldn't want us to build war weapons" plot, what the hell do they do there???
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At first, he had no idea who you were.
And honestly, could you blame him? He’s the owner of this enormous company that employs at least a hundred people.
You were working in the Human Resources department and were praised by every single one of your coworkers. You were the one keeping everything in check, from analysing performance and helping everyone set goals on what they wanted to achieve at work, to organising databases and generating reports. Those jobs should technically be made by at least 3 different people, but you were efficient and very professional, and most of the time took it upon yourself to oversee things and make sure all was running smoothly.
Bruce ran into you for the first time when you were checking on the Applied Sciences department. You had been sitting next to Lucius Fox, keeping a record of all the important work he’d done the last month, as well as going over the paperwork that outlined whatever his job entailed – while still in the AS department, Lucius was now a member of the board once again, and you wanted to make sure he had everything under control – as always, he did.
Bruce had walked in and raised an eyebrow. He’d never seen you before, were you one of his employees? Some relative of Lucius’s? His partner? Who the hell were you, and what were you doing in here?
“Ah, Mr. Wayne.” Lucius said with a nonchalant smile, standing up to shake his hand in a warm greeting. “As always, it’s a pleasure to see you. I was going over my Monthly Workplace Wellness Check with Miss [L/N] over here, and it seems all is in order.
“Mr. Wayne,” you greeted him, standing up and offering him your hand. This was your boss – the Bruce Wayne, the Prince of Gotham, arguably the richest and wealthiest man in the city, the boss, the man you’d never actually seen, but everyone spent no expense in talking about. And they did not lie – the man in front of you was handsome, with dark brown hair carefully slicked back and warm brown eyes that scanned you over carefully. He looked far too good in his navy suit, and you tried your best not to let your gaze linger on him – it would be unprofessional, and you wouldn’t want to be fired for sexual harassment.
Bruce, on the other hand, thought you were the most beautiful woman he’d ever laid eyes upon. Your body was being snuggly hugged by a pretty, dark pencil skirt, and you wore a white dress shirt with flowy sleeves. The first two buttons were open, exposing a small patch of delicate skin and a leaf pendant. Cute.
Slipping his aloof mask back on, he shook your hand, relishing the feel of your hand on his. Your grip was firm – you were clearly trying not to be intimidated by him, but there was also something very tender about it.
“Miss [L/N], is it?” he asked, leaning back and placing his hands inside his pants pockets.
“Yes, sir.”
“I’ve never seen you around here – are you new or something?”
You tried not to flush in embarrassment. It’s only normal he wouldn’t even know who you were. After all, he’s got a whole company to take care of. And it’s not like you hung around the top floors a lot – your work was among everyone else, not the board. They had their own assistants for that.
“No sir – I’ve been working here for a few years. I’m HR Director.” You replied, trying to sound confident. This was your job and you’d been doing it very well – extremely well – and you were proud of it. It was a great opportunity to let your boss know of how great of a worker you were.
“HR Director, huh?” Bruce hummed, turning to Lucius once again. “You familiar with Miss [L/N]?”
“Yes sir,” the older man replied, smiling confidently at you. “She’s been overseeing most departments for about five years now. She’s the reason everything’s going so smoothly.”
“Really?” Bruce raised an eyebrow. “That’s a lot of responsibility.”
“Yes sir, it is,” you nod. “I’m very proud of my job.”
Bruce took one good look at you once again and nodded.
“Fox, I wanted to check on you about some of the, well, some of the orders we placed last week. But seeing that you’re busy, I’ll return later.”
Lucius nodded and sat back down. Unlike you, he felt comfortable around Bruce, even if he was his boss. After all, who else had helped Bruce Wayne spelunking?
“How about I fax you when I’m done?”
“Oh, I can – I could come back later if you wished to talk to Mr. Fox right now?” You asked, quickly turning to your desk to retrieve your clipboard and pens.
“No need, Miss [L/N],” Bruce responded, shaking his head. “I wouldn’t want to interrupt an employee doing a good job. I’ll wait for Fox’s fax.”
You placed your clipboard down and nodded, offering him a small smile.
“Thank you, sir.”
Bruce found himself returning it, before turning to Lucius and nodding in acknowledgement and then walking away.
“I’m quite sure he’s gone, Miss [L/N].” Lucius announced, an amusing smile playing in his lips. You nodded, trying to get that flustered look off your face.
The man next to you supressed a chuckle – he was sure the first thing his boss would do when he got to his office was do a thorough research on his HR Director. And it’s not like he hadn’t noticed the heat that seemed to have crept up on your cheeks. He shook his head and turned to you, focusing on the Wellness Check.
Lucius was right. The first thing Bruce did when he got to his office, was do some research on you. Who you were, what job you held exactly you held, how long you’d been in the company. Not in a creepy way (or so he tried to convince himself), more in a “How come I’ve gone so long without knowing my HR Director? Who knows what kind of people are working in my company, and how come I don’t know them all? Who knows what their true intentions are” kind of way. Not that he doubted you – Lucius wasn’t the type to lie – but he was… Curious. Very curious.
He also decided to ask around about you. No one would know you and your work better than the people that interacted with you daily.
The word around was that you were an exemplary employee. Professional, hardworking, and kind to a fault. Everyone told Bruce about how incredible your work ethic was, and how helpful you were. How you always offered an arm when asked for a hand, how you’d go the lengths to help your coworkers even if it meant you would work overtime.
“She’s quite incredible, Mr. Wayne. Very efficient, very focused,” his board members would tell him, going over the fantastic things you’d done for the company. “She’s actually personally trained each of our interns herself – that’s why they’ve picked up on their work so quickly.”
“I don’t know about your department, but we work better when she’s overseeing us. [Y/N] is really kind, she’s very firm in her job, but never rude. You know what I mean?”
[Y/N], huh? Pretty name.
“She’s an excellent communicator, fights barely happen when she’s around because she makes everyone feel heard and understood.”
“Her initiatives have significantly enhanced our company culture, that’s for sure.”
“Her consistency to always go above and beyond in her efforts would make Thomas Wayne proud. This is what he would’ve wanted Wayne Enterprises to be about.”
There were many the people that mentioned his father’s name along with yours. How he’d be proud of you, how he’d give you a promotion right away, how workers like you were exactly what he needed in his company. And Bruce was intrigued. Because, how come such a gem was working under him, and he had no idea?
He had to change that, clearly.
“Miss [L/N]?” he asked you once as you were about to leave for the day. You turned around and couldn’t hide the way your eyes widened in surprise. What did your boss want? And how come he’d remembered your name?
“Yes, Mr. Wayne?” you looked up at him and tried to focus. A million thoughts were running through your head. What did he want? Why had he chased you? Oh goodness, had he chased you? Had he run a background check on you of some sorts and was unsatisfied with the work you were doing? Were you going to be fired? You couldn’t – you’d been working here for about five years and never once slacked off. This couldn’t be happening, could it?
“I was wondering if you would like to join me to dinner later this week.” The words rolled smoothly out of his mouth, practiced, precise. He knew what he wanted and was not going to play around.
“Dinner?” you repeated, furrowing your brows. “This week? With you?”
“Dinner, this week, yes. That’s what I said.” Bruce nodded, and patiently awaited a response. He knew it might be weird. Your boss, whom you did not know, suddenly asked you for dinner?
You stared at him, running his words over in your head. Your boss wanted to have dinner with you. Your boss. Bruce Wayne wanted to have dinner with you. Part of your brain told you this was a terrible idea. Everyone knew what the papers said about Bruce Wayne, that he was a womanizer, a playboy. You didn’t want to be just another name in a long line of women he slept with.
But there was something inside of you that kept screaming “GO TO DINNER WITH BRUCE WAYNE PLEASE. YOU LITERALLY HAVE NOTHING TO LOSE”.
Except perhaps, your job. What if he asked something of you, something you couldn’t give him? What if he punished you for it? What if, all along, this was a big ploy to check his sources and get you fired?
“Miss [L/N]? Is everything alright?” Bruce asked, looking at you in concern.
Screw it. You were a damn good employee. There was no way your boss was going to fire you, murder you, or whatever other silly ideas were going around in your head. You shook them away and looked at him once again, smiling.
“Yes, sorry. Everything is fine. And yes, dinner sounds really nice. Thank you for inviting me.”
Bruce gave you a polite nod, before looking behind you, where his limo went.
“I will send you the details later then. Is Thursday okay?”
“Yes! Thursday is fine.”
Bruce nodded again, and looked at his limo, this time with a tad more urgency.
“Miss [L/N], I would offer you a ride home, but I have quite the long list of errands to attend to. I will see you later this Thursday then.” He smiled – he smiled – and made his way towards a black limo, where an older man dressed nicely opened the door for him.
You couldn’t help staring as the car drove away.
You were going to dinner with your boss. With Bruce Wayne.
Surely, there was no need to panic, right?
Turns out, there hadn’t been no need to panic at all.
In fact, things went great.
Dinner with Bruce had been surprisingly pleasant.
It started out a bit awkward, with you not really knowing what your position there was, but after Bruce reassured you there was nothing wrong with your performance at work, you relaxed.
And surprisingly, so did he.
He found himself conversing with you the way he hadn’t done in a long time – casually, truthfully, openly. Sure, he didn’t tell you all of the secrets he kept, but he was genuine in his answers about his favourite memories from his childhood, or his hobbies, what season he liked the most, or whatever other question you had for him.
It felt nice to have a companion who wasn’t merely interested in his name or title or wealth. You didn’t seem to care about those, preferring to get to know Bruce Wayne the man, as opposed to Bruce Wayne the name.
He asked you about your life and you replied truthfully as well, telling him stories from when you were growing up, sharing some of your hopes and dreams, and opening up about yourself.
Bruce thought you were fascinating – at first he thought the things people said about your kindness were just polite office talk, but after spending 20 minutes with you, he realised how true they were. You’d smiled at everyone on the way to the restaurant, letting an old couple go inside before you (even though you two had arrived much earlier), refused to ask for anything without a gentle “Please” at the end.
And he could tell you weren’t fake – he was often met with fake smiles and faux politeness everywhere he went, but he could tell you were genuine, and it just made him even more interested in you. After all, not only you were beautiful, with your hair carefully tucked behind your ears, and a fitting dress that, while modest, still managed to make you stand out, but you seemed to be beautiful inside as well.
By the time you got to dessert, you were laughing heartily, head thrown back as joy overtook you. Bruce had been telling you about the worst excuses he’d made to get out of social events, and the last few truly were something. You then realised he was not the man media portrayed him to be. No, he seemed much more down to earth, more focused, more sensible. Not at all the reckless playboy gossip magazines painted him as. It was a pleasant surprise, and you were enjoying every minute of your evening.
At the end of the night, he drove you to your apartment (more like gave you a lift, since his driver – whom you learned to be his butler Alfred – was the one who had taken you to the restaurant in the first place) and walked you to your door, like a true gentleman. You giggled and swayed a bit, having drank a tad too much of wine. You weren’t drunk, no, but you could feel that pleasant buzz flowing through your veins, the one that made you gigglier and happier and made everything a bit funnier.
Bruce steadied you by letting you hold onto his arm and caught you when you tripped on the stairs to your building. You laughed loudly and he pulled you up, allowing you to face him clearly. Your breath caught in your throat, and you giggled once more when you realised how close you were, and how you could feel the alcohol on his breath.
“I really liked tonight,” you said, nodding along to your words. You had been drinking, but you weren’t dumb, and weren’t going to ruin the lovely night you’d had. As far as you were concerned, this could simply be a dinner for him to try and get to know you better, and not anything remotely romantic.
His next words changed your mind.
“Me too,” he said. “I’m sorry if my invitation was abrupt. You’ll have to forgive me, but when I saw you working with Fox that day, I was curious.”
“Curious?”
“Yeah. Everyone said wonders about you, and you seemed like a great worker, and not to mention you’re quite beautiful – “
“You asked about me?” you giggled, covering your mouth with your hand. Somehow, that was the line your brain picked up in this whole conversation. “You’re a stalker!”
“And I apologize for that.” Bruce steadied you once again when you leaned back to laugh and let out a dry chuckle. “But I really enjoyed our evening. I was hoping that you’d accompany me to dinner some other time?”
You looked at him, eyes now getting heavier. The wine was working its magic, and instead of moving around, you stood very still, enjoying the feel of Bruce’s arms around you.
“Dinner? Some other time?”
“Yes.”
“Like a date?” You don’t know what prompted you to say that out loud. That’s what you were wondering, yes, but you weren’t actually going to say it out loud, too scared to face rejection, too scared that this whole thing was a misunderstanding, and he wasn’t interested in you at all.
Bruce looked at you, surprised by your forwardness. Not that he wasn’t thinking the exact same thing – he was – but he thought he’d have to be the one doing the pursuing. After all, he was the “stalker”, as you put it.
“Yes, [Y/N], as a date,” he nodded. “Like a date. As I said, I’m interested in you. I know it might not be appropriate, seeing as I’m your boss, but I won’t lie and say you haven’t caught my eye, and I would really like to go on another date with you.”
You smiled, hands resting on the collar of his coat.
“This was a date?”
He shrugged, “If you want it to be.”
You pretended to think, placing a delicate finger on your chin, and looking away.
“Hmmmm…. I don’t know. I’ll have to think about it.” Playing the part, you stepped away from him and tried to climb the stairs to your building door. Unfortunately, your foot caught onto one, and the floor went flying on your direction.
Luckily, steady arms wrapped around your waist, preventing you from falling face first. Bruce pulled you to him once again, and this time he swore he could see all the specks in your pretty eyes. Heat rose to your cheeks, and you couldn’t look away. Bruce’s eyes fell to your lips for a brief second, and you followed his gaze, wishing he would close the distance between you too.
But Bruce Wayne might be a lot of things and do a lot of things – but he wouldn’t take advantage of you. Not right now, when the wine was clearly getting to your head. He was going to do this properly.
He pushed away from you and gave you a friendly pat on the arm. Upon seeing the way your face fell, he mentally kicked himself. Shit. It was the wrong thing to do, wasn’t it? He should’ve just kissed you. But you weren’t thinking straight. And he didn’t want to take advantage of that.
“Goodnight, [Y/N].” He said, offering you a smile.
“Why are you such a goddamned coward?” A tiny voice in your head asked repeatedly. Why didn’t you just kiss him? You had a great time, didn’t you? He said so himself. He called it a date. He wanted to go on another. Why were you always so scared of going for what you wanted? Why dint you just take the plunge and do what you wanted to for once in your life?
Shaking away your nerves, you stepped forward and planted a kiss on his cheek.
“Goodnight, Bruce.” You said, nodding in contempt and walking towards your building. By the grace of some god up above, you found your keys rather quickly and didn’t have to deal with the awkwardness that would’ve surely followed, so you just walked inside and closed the door behind you.
It was Alfred who had to break Bruce out of his trance.
“Perhaps you could take a picture of the building and take it with you, seeing as it is far too cold for you to stare at the real thing the entire night.” He said in a sarcastic manner, causing Bruce to stare at him and get in the car, but not without shooting one last look at the building.
He’d see you again for sure.
Things went smoothly after that.
You went out a few more times, and within about two months, he officially asked you to be his girlfriend. You accepted of course – after all, you were just as head over heels for him as he was for you.
You had to settle some boundaries for your office life to work out. You didn’t want anyone thinking you were shagging your boss for a promotion, or financial extras – not at all. So, you set some ground rules.
No PDA at work – this was rule number one, and it was the most important one. After you two started dating, Bruce found himself seeking you out more during the day, just to catch up or look at you (he was whipped). You’d noticed, and it was hard keeping yourself away from him. PDA was a big no-no. You two had to be professional and keep your personal relationship out of the office.
No pet names, no endearment terms, and minimal contact as it was. He’d once nearly gotten himself in trouble, having to switch from “My dear” to “Miss [L/N}”. It was tough and some employees looked at him funny, but he just walked away with his Wayne confidence, and no one said a word.
If you two did want to meet, it’d have to be after work hours, or during breaks, and in private. You would often bring him lunch, sit by his side in his office and just talk about your day and go over work stuff. He liked the privacy his office offered. He could have you in his lap, laugh about whatever silly reality show the Gotham gossip channels had on, and just enjoy some time off work.
No special treatment of any sort. This was very important. He couldn’t turn a blind eye to any problems you’d caused or any work you hadn’t done properly. Thankfully for him, you’d always been an excellent worker and he never had to reprimand you nor scold you. But he also couldn’t just praise you for every little thing you did – at least not at work.
It was hard, to say the least.
At home, you enjoyed being close to him, away from prying eyes, doubtful employers or clingy assistants who wanted his everlasting attention. And you could manage just fine at work as well – sure, you didn’t like seeing other workers drool all over him and beg for him to look their way, but you were also always far too busy to pay them any attention. After all, you had so much work to do.
But Bruce couldn’t say the same thing.
He’d go down a few floors to check on one particular project, or to supervise a series of workers, and find you busying yourself around with tasks, giving orders, keeping files in check, and turning in reports, and you’d look so great doing all of that. Efficient, hard-working. That’s what everyone had called you.
But then he’d see every other person had noticed the same. He could see the way other men looked at you, calling you over to ask questions and chit chat with you. They’d try to make you laugh, offering you charming smiles when they achieved so, and Bruce had to control every fibre in his being not to walk over to where you were and punch those smug grins off their faces.
Their games didn’t work on you though. You’d politely decline their advances, and declare you were taken, but some of them were too damn persistent. To those, you simply wished a good day and returned to your tasks. Something inside Bruce beamed with pride, and he would be lying if he said their upset faces did not bring him joy.
“C’mon [Y/N], it’s just one dinner. What wrong can that do, huh? I’ll take you to some place real nice,” a man in the same department as yours once pleaded, holding your hands in his. Bruce’s jaw twitched and you firmly moved away from him.
“Sorry Joe, I told you, I’m very busy. And even if I wasn’t, I have a very loving partner, and would never cheat on them.” Your voice was calm, but he could tell you weren’t comfortable with the way he touched you.
Joe scoffed.
“Some partner you have – you leave by yourself every single day. How come they never come pick up their missus, huh? If I had a girl like you, I’d come pick her up every day. What kind of douchebag leaves his girlfriend all alone? C’mon – one dinner with me and you’ll forgetting all about that idiot.” Joe moved towards you once again to grab your arm, but you moved away, looking at him with a raised eyebrow.
“I told you; I wasn’t interested. And please do not touch me. Now, you should get back to work. Your monthly reports tell me you’ve been slacking, and I would hate to have to give you a warning.” You said firmly, raising your chin and gripping your clipboard tighter.
Joe scrambled for words, and you walked away. While brushing past Bruce, you could feel the smirk in his voice as he whispered “That’s my girl” for only you to hear.
But sometimes, he had to jump in and save you.
Well, perhaps save wasn’t the right word.
Because you didn’t need saving – he was just jealous.
You were taking a break from your weekly roundups, sitting at your desk, and chatting happily with your closest work friends. You leaned forward to whisper in a woman’s ear, and the both of you leaned back in laughter.
“Good morning, ladies,” a man in a nice-looking dark blue suit said, approaching the two of you. His blonde hair fell loosely over his eyes, and he did little to nothing to tame it.
“Raph! Hey – you’ll not believe what [Y/N] just told me,” your friend smiled, and “Raph” bent over to listen closely to what she whispered to him. He widened his eyes in surprise, before snorting in response.
“You’re kidding.” He turned to you.
You shook your head, biting the pencil you’d taken to your lips. Bruce had half a mind to walk over to you and claim your lips then and there.
“Nope. Saw it with my own eyes.”
The three of you laughed again, and Raph quickly looked around. He clearly did not notice his boss staring at them from across the room, so he pulled up a chair nearby and sat down.
You three engaged in lively conversation, and Bruce fumed at the sight of you leaning towards him every so often and giggling, bending over to whisper in his ear and touch his arm. Why were you so god damn close to him? Was there something going on between the two of you? Why the hell did he not keep his hands to himself?
Bruce’s patience snapped when he saw Raph take your hand in his and place a dramatic kiss on your knuckles. You looked at him and rolled your eyes, doing your best to pry your hand from his.
“Let go of me Raph, you’re absolutely disgusting.” Bruce noticed the way you smiled as you spoke each one of your next words, and something twisted in his stomach. A very ugly feeling that told him he did not like the way you seemed so close to Raph, nor the way he seemed to touch you so effortlessly. Why the hell was he touching you in the first place? Did he not know you were taken? He decided then and there this had to stop. This man needed to get his hands off you, right this moment.
“I’m serious – ugh – get off me, you’re sick! Get away!”
“I believe the lady has told you to let go of her hand.” Bruce’s voice echoed in the room, and nearly everyone stopped what they were doing to look at him. Your breath caught in your throat and Raph, who was sitting next to you, quickly stood up, brushing his suit.
“Sir – Mr. Wayne, I wasn’t – “
“Working? Clearly. Shouldn’t you be occupying yourself with your tasks at hand, other than harassing your coworkers?” The words left his mouth with venom, and he looked very angry – part of you had to stifle a laugh.
“Mr. Wayne, I promise I wasn’t harassing, I was – “
“Get back to your job before I do something about it.”
Raph shot you an apologetic look before scurrying away.
“Miss [L/N]?”
“Yes?”
“A word.”
You shrugged bashfully at your friend and followed Bruce. He led you away from your department, looking inside each passing room to find one that was empty. Once he found what he was looking for, he pushed you inside, locked the door behind you, and pressed himself against you, kissing you passionately.
A gasp left your lips before you returned his kiss, hands instinctively wrapping around his neck and in his hair. He licked your lower lip as if asking for permission, and you granted it with a soft whimper which he swallowed, hands deftly pulling your hips closer and closer to him.
When you broke away for air, you noticed how flustered he was, and how his lips and chin were covered in lipstick.
“What was – what was that for?” you asked, panting.
“Couldn’t stand to see that bastard all over you,” Bruce muttered, before moving on to press kisses against the column of your neck. You sighed in pleasure and ran your fingers through his hair.
“Raph is just a friend.”
Bruce snorted.
“Yeah, and he’s clearly interested in you. Idiot. Doesn’t he know you’re mine?”
At these words, you pushed away from him and burst out laughing.
“Mind explaining what’s so funny?” Bruce asked you, raising an eyebrow.
“Bruce,” you managed to say in between laughs, “Honey, Raphael is gay!” You kept laughing, staring at his dumbfounded expression.
“What?”
“Honey, he’s gay! We were talking about how I found his work crush sending dick pics to some random guy on Grindr!”
Bruce stopped in his tracks; brows furrowed in confusion.
“Gay?”
“Yes! He’s not interested in me silly – we’re just friends.”
“Oh.”
You resumed laughing, before adjusting your clothes and trying to wipe some of the lipstick off his face.
“Bruce, were you jealous?” you asked, cocky grin playing in your lips.
“No – I wasn’t – “
“Oh gosh, you were!” You smiled warmly at him. It was flattering, and you felt slightly bad for him. He had been worrying over nothing. “You don’t have to, you know?”
“They’re all after you. I know it.”
“They’re really not,” you replied, giving him a chaste kiss on the lips. “And even if they were, I only have eyes for you. You know that right?”
He nodded, kissing you again.
“Besides,” you pulled away for air, fiddling with his tie. “If anything, I should be the jealous one. Every woman in this building is in love with you. And your personal assistant has tried not once, not twice, but three times bending over your desk, so you’ll look at her chest.”
Bruce shook his head, brushing a strand of hair away from your face.
“I couldn’t care less. I only have eyes for you.”
“Well then, you have to learn to behave. This is still my workplace, and I still have to interact with all of these people. And unless you want everyone finding out about us, you’re gonna have to learn how to deal with your jealousy better.”
He sighed, dropping his head to rest it on your chest. You smiled and ran fingers through his hair absentmindedly.
“I only have eyes for you, you know.”
“And I only have eyes for you.” He replied, before straightening up and fixing his hair and clothes. He looked at you for confirmation and you nodded, wiping whatever lipstick he had on his face, and fixing his tie and shirt. “Perfect”, you mumbled.
Bruce gave you a quick kiss and you walked outside. He’d wait a few minutes before following.
He really needed to work on those jealousy issues.
And he did!
Sort of.
He tried not to think too much about it when coworkers of yours praised and complimented you. “Hey [L/N], heard the turnover rates stabilised thanks to you! Good job!”. “Nice outfit, [Y/N]. Makes your eyes stand out. Very nice.”. “Hey, you saw this week’s morale reports? They skyrocketed – you’re too good at your job, we should all just quit.” It made his blood boil.
He tried not to think too much when your colleagues brought you any sorts of gifts. Coffee, when you were feeling tired, cookies or some other snacks when you were hungry, some even offered to go get you full fledged meals like salads or other dishes from the cafeteria just so you could keep working. You were so kind to everyone – it was only natural the ones around you reciprocated. And Bruce loved it – he loved that people recognised how generous you were, how downright good you were, and wanted to repay in kind. But it still made him somewhat envious.
So, he decided to take action.
One particular morning, he found you in your floor, working tirelessly. It had been a very stressful week, and you’d been far too busy to even visit him at the Manor or have dinner with him. He missed you. Missed your smiles, your laughter, your voice, your touch. Alfred was positive he was behaving like a child whose favourite blanket had been taken from him. It was endearing, yet also somewhat pathetic.
He approached you from behind, ignoring the surprised and stunned gazes everyone around you gave him. He embraced you from behind, dropping his head to your neck, and kissing you there.
You gasped in surprise, face covered in an expression of astonishment. What was going on? Was that Bruce? What was he doing here? And why was he kissing your neck? You were in the middle of organising a few very important reports and did not have time for distractions of any sort.
“Bruce – what are you doing?” you whispered, voice laced in shock.
“You’ve been working so hard, my love,” he said, intentionally loud for everyone to hear. “You should take a break.”
“Bruce, we’re working – we can’t – why are you – “ you had no words. No PDA, no nicknames, no special treatment. Why was Bruce breaking these rules all of a sudden?
“I missed you, of course. You’ve been exhausting yourself. Look at what I brought you,” he placed a cup of coffee on top of your desk, and you gasped. It wasn’t just any coffee; it was a very special brand that you only got one or two times due to how expensive it was. “You need sustenance.”
“Wow, Bruce, I mean, thank you so much, but you didn’t have to – “
“Of course I had to. Can’t have my beautiful girlfriend burning out, now, can I?” He lifted himself up and faced you clearly. He then proceeded to dip down and capture your lips with his, hand cupping your cheek and rubbing gentle circles with his thumb. He parted from you slightly, and whispered against your lips, “I couldn’t pretend anymore. Couldn’t stand being away from you. Screw everyone else. If they have a problem, they can come and talk to me. I’m the boss, after all, aren’t I?”
You looked at him through your lashes and offered him a soft smile. You couldn’t lie; you too missed Bruce, and it was getting harder and harder to pretend you didn’t know him at all. You gave him a soft tug on his tie and pressed another kiss to his lips. He could feel your smile against him, and it only made him smile in return.
Bruce then stood up, straightened his suit, and caressed your cheek.
“I bought lunch. Meet me in my office in two hours?”
“Yeah. I’d like that very much.”
He stole another kiss from you, causing you to chuckle, and walked away, as if he hadn’t just shocked the entire HR department to hell and back with his actions.
It didn’t matter.
They all knew you were his now.
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A/N: And that's it! I hope you guys enjoyed it! I love this man so much okay. And wish me luck, going to rewatch TDKR with the family. Yesterday we watched TDK and I don't think my family understood the sheer magnitude of that movie... 😔
Oh well! It'll be fun!
Once again, thank you very much! And please keep your eyes wide open, I have a surprise coming up for everyone!
Have an amazing day ahead!
470 notes · View notes
bjtch-craft · 4 months
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"I'm a Rockstar Babe"
Todd Ingram X Bottom Male! Reader
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☆ Summary: [Name] reunites with an old high-school friend turned rockstar things take a turn when they restart their old high-school ways.
☆ NSFW
☆Request: Yes or No
☆ Word count: 2,836
☆Genre: Angst to Smut (Kinda)
☆Warnings: Smut, degradation, manipulation (kinda, tbh I just tried making him cocky but rereading it it sounds like bro is manipulating), Bl♡wjobs, slapping, just douchy rockstar things, spitting (he's one of those ppl)
☆Authors note: Dude, I rewatched the movie and reread the novels, and why is Todd so mf fine like WHAT? And why are there no stories about this man? Anyways enjoy!! (P.s this has been in my drafts for like 2 months now and I've never finished editing it for some reason...)
Also look at the comic version of him like WHAT A CUTIE like yeah sure he's arrogant, narcissistic, uncaring, and may or may not be a pathological liar, and a walking red flag but like that red looking a little orange so??? PRAYING SOME OF YALL READ THIS!!
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Did this count as being a groupie? No. It's not like I'm some obsessed super fan like Joseph I mean for fucks sake I knew Todd in high school [Name] thought as he lay on the mattress of the cheap motel room waiting for Todd to get out of the shower.
10:15 P.M. - some time earlier
[Name] was shoved and pushed around by the hundreds of thousands of fans who had gathered to watch the band play. The band in question was none other than The Clash at Demonhead. [Name] new one of the members (while technically two if you count Envy but they didn’t know each other. They were more of acquaintances really.) Todd Ingram who he was close friends with. Really close.
He'd given him head a couple of times (and slept with him too) but that didn't mean anything to them (yes it did.) it was what Todd considered a "bro-job" whatever the fuck that was. But that's not important (yes it is) what is important is how quickly their friendship ended after he got with Envy. They tried to keep in touch but after the band blew the absolute fuck up he cut ties with him.
Did it hurt? Yes. A lot. But [Name] didn't let it get to him he still supported Todd even if Todd himself didn't know it. [Name] bought every CD, vinyl, and cassette tape, and got tickets to most shows. He even tried to get backstage passes to rekindle his relationship with Todd but the prices were far out of his price range.
There have been times when for a quick second he'd seen Todd after a show or two and waved to him or said a quick word but he didn't recognize him. Which also hurt. How can you not recognize someone you spent almost TEN YEARS of your life with? But [Name] was determined to catch up with his best friend so after pulling a couple of night shifts and saving up some money he... still didn’t have enough.
10: 50 P.M.
"Todd's so hot!"
"Jesus Envys even hotter in person!"
"Why's that chick got a robotic arm?"
These are just some of the things [Name] heard throughout the event which was on the verge of ending.
12:10 A.M. - Later
The concert was over and [Name] pushed and shoved his way out of the venue and quickly rushed towards the back of the building looking for the band.
"Come on please don't tell me I missed them!"
His shoes thudded against the gravel, and as he rounded the corner a gate came into view.
"No. No, no, no, no!"
The gate door was slid open. How safe right?
"Envy? Do you wanna get a bite to eat or something?"
[Name] stopped for a moment as he saw Todd standing there his guitar case in hand talking to Envy. He took a deep breath and stepped through the gates. Fuck?
"T-todd?"
Todd turned to look at him a look of shock and anger upon his face.
"Who the hell let you in" Todd asked as he stepped closer to [Name] his voice coming off as aggressive as his eyes and hair started to glow.
"N-no one the gate was open."
"So you just snuck in?"
"I'm [Name], [First name], [Last name] we went to high school together. Remember?"
Todd's eyes and hair stopped glowing as his hair drifted back down in front of his face.
"You're kidding?!"
Todd dropped his guitar case and ran up to [Name] his tough guy rockstar persona shedding completely. He threw his arms around [Name] and pulled him into his chest. [Name] could feel the heat rising to two places as his face was smushed into Todd's rather large pecs.
"Todd you're squishing me..." [Name] said his voice muffled.
"Sorry!" He pulled away. "Jesus it's been a long time since we've seen each other... I'm a Rockstar!"
"I can see that!"
"Todd, what the fuck is going on," Envy asked?
Todd turned to look at them wrapping his arm around [Name's] waist. "This is [Name] from high school! He's my best friend remember?"
"While to me he looks like a fucking groupie! Let's go" Envy replied.
"I'm not a groupie..."
"Do you think he can come back to the motel with us?"
"No."
"Find some other cheap motel to fuck in," The Bionic arm bitch said.
"He's not a groupie and we're not gonna fuck! He's my friend and I wanna catch up with him!"
"Find. Another. Motel." Envy said the tone of her voice showed her annoyance more than anything.
12:30 A.M.
And they did find a cheap motel in an extremely unsafe part of town. Fits the stereotype, huh? A rockstar takes one of his fans to a cheap rundown-looking motel just to get it in.
[Name] once again was hugging Todd but this time was looking up at him.
"I'm so sorry for ghosting you [Name]."
"It's fine."
Todd's hands traveled down [Name's] back and reached his ass and groped it firmly, making [Name] let out an involuntary yelp. He pushed Todd off of him, causing the blonde boy to let out a laugh.
"What's the matter [Name] just like old times!"
"Todd aren't you dating Envy or something?"
He shifted his weight on his feet annoyingly.
"I'm a Rockstar babe we don't date," Todd said cockily.
"Oh?"
"I'm gonna hop in the shower. I know I reek of sweat... care to join me?"
"Smooth Todd.... real smooth."
He winked at [Name] and waltzed into the bathroom and shut the door behind him. After a minute or two he heard the shower go on.
Did this count as being a groupie? No. It's not like I'm some obsessed super fan like Joseph I mean for fucks sake I knew Todd in high school [Name] thought as he lay on the mattress of the cheap motel room waiting for Todd to get out of the shower.
"Do I wanna do this... again?"
The first time [Name] and Todd ever did anything together was on his eighteenth birthday. They were both unbelievably drunk, and both were bored lying on Todd's bed in silence. One of them now and then would say something, and they would have a short conversation.
"H-heyyy~ [Name] can I ask you for a favor," Todd asked his words coming out slurred.
"Yeah- hic! What'sss ~'s up?"
"Do you think you could um... s-suck me off?"
"Why?"
"Well, I'm one drunk! And two horny as fuck~! So can you?"
"You know what fuck it! You are my best friend!"
[Name] slid his basketball shorts off and then his boxers and grabbed at his length.
"I've never done this before so um... bear with me~."
Todd nodded his head a goofy grin on his face. "Do it as if someone's doing yours."
[Name] took him into his mouth slowly going down inch by inch the girth was almost too much to handle. Almost.
But that was years ago. They were two dumb eighteen-year-olds who were just helping each other out. But [Name] didn't feel that way anymore... but reminiscing on their old days made [Name] slowly begin to get hard in the shorts Todd had given him.
[Name] rubbed himself through the fabric and pushed down on it, making him release a soft moan. He needed Todd he didn't realize how badly he did until right then and there. The door opened to the bathroom, and [Name] quickly through the blanket over his lap.
Todd walked out with just a towel around his waist, his bulge catching [Names] eye as well as his body, which was still wet and glistened in the light.
"What are you doing?"
"Getting another pair of boxers, I forgot to bring them into the shower..." Todd looked at [Name] and noticed the tent that was forming underneath the blanket. "Aw, are you happy to see me like this again, baby?"
"What! No!"
"Come on..." He said huskily. The cockiness was back. "I heard you moan... were you thinking of the times I fucked you? The times you begged me to fill you up? The times I came on that pretty face of yours?"
[Name] could feel his cock growing harder with each question.
"N-no" [Name] whimpered out.
Todd walked to the side of the bed grabbed [Name's] hand and placed it on his groin.
"You miss my fat cock don't you," He asked his voice sounding oddly humiliating.
"I don't have to say anything."
Todd started to move his hips grinding his bulge against the palm of [Names] hand.
"Todd we can't... you have a girlfriend."
"I told you we rockstars don't really - truly date, and if anything, it's just another bro-job, remember?"
[Name] pulled his hand away and sat up and using both hands opened Todd's towel up causing his cock to pop out and slap against his happy trail.
"Fuck~," [Name] whispered out.
[Name] reached out and pumped his cock twice.
"Yeah that's it~ I know you fucking missed it haven't you?"
[Name] let go of Todd's cock and adjusted his position so he was sitting on the edge of the bed. Todd backed up a little.
"Please don't like- hurt me that much. Please?"
Todd chuckled and ran his hand through his wet hair.
"You sweet dumb thing, you know I can't promise that."
[Name] grabbed Todd's cock once more and spat on it and stroked him off spreading the saliva over his cock.
"I haven't done this in a long time... so I'm a little rusty."
Todd smiled down at him. The grin was a mixture of amusement and humiliation.
[Name] placed the tip on his tongue and licked it gently before wrapping his lips around it and slowly going down on it.
[Name] couldn't lie he truly did miss this. Not only did he enjoy it, but it honestly made them closer as friends.
[Name] gagged on the base as he looked up at Todd with tearful eyes.
"Aww you look so cute with my big cock in your mouth," Todd said softly his voice coated in lust as he gently patted [Name's] cheek.
[Name] began to slowly come off his cock before Todd placed a hand on the back of his skull and slammed him back down causing him to gag and for drool to pour out of the sides of his mouth.
"Mmm-hmm-agh." [Name] groaned out.
Todd pulled his cock out of the boy's mouth and slapped it on either side of the guy's cheek.
"You took it so well [Name]~."
[Name] looked up at Todd with innocent eyes, his tongue sticking out a little as he gasped for air.
"Jesus you look so fucking gorgeous."
"I-I think you bruised the back of my throat!"
Todd grabs [Names] chin as he angles his head straight aligning his cock with [Names] lips.
Todd spat on his cock (and on [Names] face) and slammed it down [Names] throat before pulling out. [Name] stuck out his tongue and licked a stripe down his cock.
"You're such a fucking slut baby. I bet you've been craving my cock since you heard about our band haven't you?"
[Name] nodded his head embarrassingly. Todd placed a hand on the back of [Names] head and leaned in, planting a kiss on his lips as his hands traveled down his body. His hands reached the bottom of the boy's shirt and began to pull it up over his head, breaking the kiss in the process.
Todd pushes [Name] down onto the bed by his chest and crawls on top of him, attacking his neck, causing [name] to let out a soft moan. Todd kisses down his neck while unbuckling [Names] belt and gently pulls them off along with his boxers.
"I don't reckon you have a condom do you?"
"I have one in my wallet in my left pocket," [Name] says, his voice barely above a whisper.
Todd grabs [Names] jeans off the floor and pulls out the condom from the wallet before discarding them back onto the floor.
Todd rips the wrapping of the condom off with his teeth and slides the rubber on. He places [Bames] legs on his shoulders and lines himself up at his entrance.
[Name] squeezes his eyes shut as Todd pushes himself into him. A sudden wave of pain and pleasure washes over him, causing him to grab onto the sheets, twisting them in his hands. A soft whimper escapes his lips as Todd continues to push deeper into him.
"Shit- Todd, you're so fucking- ngh~ big!" [Name] whimpered out, causing Todd to look down at him with a cocky grin.
Todd had pushed himself into the other boy and slowly began to pull back out, only to slam back into him, which earned him a low groan.
"Does that feel good?"
[Name] nodded his head and let out a whimper. Todd began to rock his hips in and out of him, the tip occasionally brushing against his prostate. His thirst got faster and quicker he reached down and grabbed [Name's] hands and placed them above his head.
Todd began pounding into [Name]. The sound of skin against skin filled the room as well as screams of pleasure from both boys.
"Ugh~ F-fuck! You're going to har-!" [Name] wasn't able to finish his sentence as Todd delivered a gentle (but still hard) slap across his face.
"Don't tell me what the fuck to do!" Todd growled out.
[Names] cock twitched as pre-cum drizzled down his cock causing a moan to escape from his lips.
"Don't tell me you're into this shit you slut?"
"S-s-shut up Todd~"
Todd smirked and began rocking his hips.
"How bad do you want it?"
"W-what?" [Name] stuttered.
"I can pull out right now and leave and not let you finish you."
"Please don't~ I'll do anything!"
"Then admit it.'
"What?"
"Admit you're a filthy whore" Todd said his voice thick with lust.
"I'm not going to- ah~!"
Todd pulled out of [Name] leaving him feeling empty and somehow even more fucking desperate.
"Todd please" [Name] begged.
"Then say it."
"I-I’m a whore okay? Is that what you want to hear from me? I'm a fucking slut for you okay?!"
Todd looked down at [Name] with a cocky grin.
"Good boy."
Todd leaned back over [Name] and placed a soft kiss on his lips before pushing himself back into him. He wrapped his hand around [Name's] throat and began pounding into him. The sounds of skin against skin filled the room once again.
Todd raised his hand and brought it across [Names] face with enough power to cause a sting of pain leading [Name] to let out a dry moan.
"I can't believe your into this shit!" Todd said with a cheesy grin.
"Shut up!" The boy underneath him whined out.
Todd smirked and removed his hand from [Names] neck and grabbed him by the waist and slowed his thrusts.
"What are you- agh~!"
Todd pulled [Name] into him driving his cock deeper into him pushing past his prostate. [Names] jaw dropped as the sudden feeling causing a high pitched moan to erupt from his throat. Todd took this opportunity and grabbed his jaw holding it open and dipped his thumb into his mouth.
"Don't close your mouth got that?"
[Name] replied with a whimper as Todd's thurst became annoyingly slow as a string of spit slowly began to fall from his lips and landed in [Names] mouth.
[Named] closed his mouth after Todd gave him a look that practically yelled at him, too. Todd's slow thrust became faster and faster. Todd wrapped his hand around [Name's] dick and began jerking him off as [Name] placed his palm at the back of Todd's head.
"I'm so close!" Todd groaned out as his rhythm began to go out of sync.
His movements became harder and harder as he felt himself getting closer and closer to finishing.
"W-where- fuck~ where do you want it?" He moaned out.
"On me..."
Todd placed a hand behind [Names] head as his thurst became sloppy he spat once again at [Name] the salvia covering his face before pulling out and jerking himself off.
"Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck!"
With one final moan ropes of cum erupted from his cock covering [Names] body in white ropes. Todd pumped [Name's] cock for a minute before he came their cum mixing on his stomach. Todd scooped up some of his cum off of the boy's body with his index finger and popped it into [Names] mouth.
"How's it taste?"
"Salty... can you get me a towel?"
1:35 AM
[Name] lay on the cheap hotel's mattress, his head on Todd's chest, listening to his heartbeat.
"Hey, have you ever thought of being a roadie?'
"A what?"
"A roadie helps the band set up... you could be one for us so we could keep in touch and..." He wrapped his hand around [Names] body and groped his ass "Have some more time to ourselves."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
THIS MAN IS SO FINE ARGH. I NEED HIM SO BAD LIKE I WANT HIM TO FULLY REARRANGE MY INSIDES.
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Authors note!!
Again, sorry for the break. School is still once again kicking my ass :) I do plan on writing more over Christmas break, but I do have like half-written stories in my drafts, so here are some of them. (Some of them have titles, but they are to be determined, so kill me or wtv) .
Darry Jenner x Male reader (Fluff)
Miguel Ohara x Male reader (Smut)
Chad Meeks x Male reader (TBD)
Simon Kalivoda x Male reader (Fluff)
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pluckyredhead · 7 months
Note
hi! i'm new to comics and i got in through reading your fics and wayne family adventures. i've since started reading more of the mainstream verse and i realized that most comic fans consider wfa to be totally fanon. you're one of the few i saw that disagrees. would you mind elaborating a lil on why? i'm too new to really form an opinion either way but i'd like to know your's!
(also yes i really did stalk your blog back years worth of posts i'm sorry! 😭😭)
Aw I love this! Welcome!
So I think it's really important to be clear on definitions here:
Canon means it's part of an official text. It's literally in a comic (or book or movie or other property) published or licensed by DC.
Fanon means it's made up by fans. That doesn't mean bad or good, it just means that it comes from fandom and is not part of the official text.
Wayne Family Adventures is an official licensed comic by DC, so by definition, it cannot be fanon. That doesn't mean everyone has to like it, but it's not a fan comic. It's an official DC product. It's not fanon.
Now, WFA isn't part of the main DCU canon. It takes place in a separate universe. The Jason in Batman #138 and the Jason in WFA are not the same and they are having very different experiences. (And I'm sure the Jason in WFA would be grateful if he knew.)
But that's no different than a comic that takes place in an alternate universe, like Dark Knights of Steel or DCeased, or a movie like Blue Beetle or a show like My Adventures with Superman. They all take place in their own universes, but all of those universes are canon. None of them are fanon.
What I think most people mean when they say WFA is fanon is that WFA draws on tropes and characterizations that are popular in fandom. Which...yes, absolutely. This is on purpose, and honestly, it pisses me off when people complain about it. (Not you, anon! Your question was lovely, you just triggered my unskippable cut scene of dialogue. Sorry lol.)
Wayne Family Adventures is probably the single best idea DC has had in the 20 years I've been reading comics. (The second best was the kids and YA graphic novel lines.)
I just checked, and WFA has 1.3 MILLION subscribers. That's more than every floppy comic starring Batman sells in a month, combined. It's more than literally any superhero comic has sold in decades - in this century! The combined strips have over A HUNDRED MILLION VIEWS. That is bonkerstown. That is a readership like DC hasn't seen since the 1970s. That is unparalleled success, and it's introducing characters like Kate Kane and Duke Thomas to a whole new audience.
Now, WFA was clearly designed to appeal to Batfans who were active on social media and fanfic sites like AO3 and Wattpad, and Webtoon readers. The readership of Webtoon is mostly young and female. Fandom as a whole is mostly female. The writer of WFA is female.
And maybe I'm not being fair here, but when I see people dismiss WFA as "just fanon," I always catch a whiff of "It's not a real Batman comic. It's a girl comic for girls."
I have spent the past 20 years begging DC (and Marvel, DC is not alone in this) to see women as a viable audience - as their largest potential growth audience! I have watched in dumbfounded frustration as they ignored the juggernaut success of Raina Telgemeier and Ngozi Ukazu and Alice Oseman running rings around the NY Times bestseller list and counted a 50k shipment here and there as a resounding triumph. I have literally seen them throw out survey responses from women because "those women had an agenda." (This is a true story. 2011 was rough, y'all.)
And all of a sudden, they gave us a comic actually catering to women and young people and fandom, and they put it on the most popular, current, modern platform for comics availably - and it's brilliant. It's smart and funny and stunningly drawn and every episode makes clever, inventive use of the scrolling format. They FINALLY gave us a girl comic for girls, and it's a masterpiece.
And yes, it riffs on fanon concepts. It also has its roots firmly in mainstream DCU canon. It references deep cuts. CRC Payne and StarBite know their shit. Jason Todd being a bookworm may be a fanon staple, but he does plenty of reading - including Jane Austen - in the 100% canon mainstream DCU comics.
It's not going to be for everything, because nothing is. It's completely fine if you don't like WFA. No one has to read it or enjoy it. If you're into Batman for the darkness and the crime and the ongoing plotlines and the angst, WFA won't be for you, and that's totally fine!
But to finally, finally be valued as a reader by DC, to have them do something smart and innovative and so, so well executed, and have the exact people they made it for dismiss it out of hand because Bruce has a "World's Okayest Dad" mug or whatever? Yeah, that chafes.
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luvsturniolo · 6 months
Text
— ★ !! movie night
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pairing : chris sturniolo x fem!reader
synopsis : what i think it would be like to watch a movie with chris
a/n : u guys are dating in this !!
wc : 0.5k
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"what movie do you wanna watch?" you ask chris, who is sprawled out across his bed, taking up all the space.
he texted you earlier today, begging you to have a sleepover. you told him no at first because you didn't feel like leaving your house. but he kept asking and asking, so you finally agreed to him. and here you are now, scrolling through netflix to find a good film.
"uhhh," he trails off, rolling over so he's now laying on his stomach. he throws his head back to lay it in your lap. you looks down at him, raising an eyebrow at his childish behavior. "i wanna watch something funny, but like with a plot. y'know?"
"so basically any adam sandler movie." you point out.
"yes!" chris says, excitedly.
your guys' relationship is completely built off of your very different ways of communication. when chris gets excited, his thoughts jumble together and his words come out in a messily put together paragraph.
"it's as if there's no punctuation at all and fifty percent of what you're saying is misspelled." matt told him once, comparing chris's grammar to an essay written by a toddler who can't even speak yet.
chris oftentimes gets stressed out when he can't put his thoughts into words. so you always tell him to just throw shit out there and you'll figure out what he's trying to say. and you always do – which is one of his favorite things about you.
"what about murder mystery?" you suggest, pulling the movie up on the tv screen for him to read the synopsis. "i've already seen it like a hundred times, but i'll gladly watch it again if you want."
"i've never seen it." chris says.
"what!?" you shout. "it's a classic! how have you not seen it!?"
chris laughs at your shocked expression. "let's watch it now, then. you'll be able to see my reaction."
you happily agree to his terms as you press play on the movie. as the opening scene takes place, you get comfortable by getting under the blankets and laying on your side to watch the film.
chris leans back beside you, making himself the little spoon.
as the movie plays, chris is so dramatic to the point that he sounds like the soundtrack that's play during the disney shows. he laughs at the funny scenes and gasps at the shocking ones, making 'oohs' and 'ahhs' like a movie critic.
however, when the huge plot twist is revealed and you expect chris to gasp, he's silent. you lean forward to look at him only to see that he's fallen asleep.
"chris," you say his name gently.
"i'm awake." he tells you despite his eyes being shut and his voice coming out raspy.
"sure you are." you respond with a laugh.
"i swear i am." chris mumbles out a lie, shifting a little bit so he can cuddle up into your arms better. his face is laying against your arm as you can feel your limb beginning to fall asleep. you ignore the fuzzy feeling in your arm and hold him against you.
you smile with a sigh, turning off the tv and holding him in your arms as you fall asleep as well.
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tags : @kasqnxx @lvrsparadise
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tvlandofficiall · 2 months
Note
I'm glad you and a few other people posted and reblogged some good darkner meta that last few days. I just recently watched some newer smaller theory youtube vids out of content drought thirst and walked away with a vague annoyed feeling on account several of them just assumed the FFTA style "seal away the fake fantasy darkworlds" type ending as like, a known fact. I feel like taking the darkners seriously as People is a super niche thing stuck in this circle of like a few hundred tumblr fans.
thanks! i'm glad to hear that my posts have been spreading around – the subject of the darkners is a pretty important one both in the game and to me, so it's well worth talking about! it saddens me that a lot of people seem to work off the base assumption that they don't matter or that their personhood won't be discussed – and there are many reasons i contemplate when it comes to why that is (do players have a difficult time believing in and caring for a world that isn't like the one they live in? do players assume deltarune will end sadly because sad endings are seen as more serious? why are these strange assumptions taken as fact by so many players, seemingly for no reason?) ultimately, i think the answer is that many players simply work off of what they know about these types of characters and plots from other games and stories, unaware of the ethos behind undertale and deltarune that twists and subverts these archetypes.
i've discussed it before, but in video games and other forms of media alike, the idea of a disposable character will arise. the legend of zelda, for instance, usually doesn't prompt you to consider the societies and lives of the octorocks you slay. in games where characters can raise the undead to do your bidding, they don't have to ask the skeletons permission – the undead are just mindless drones to command. robots in sci-fi settings will sometimes act as simple assistants to the human characters. monster movies star protagonists that mow down evil hordes of mindless werewolves or zombies. and in many fantasy stories, there lies the assumption that everyone will return to the "real world" at the end – at the end of the wizard of oz, dorothy doesn't contemplate the existence of the scarecrow or the tin man beyond their resemblance to the people in her real life. at the end of alice in wonderland, alice doesn't consider the personhood of the mad hatter or the white rabbit for long either. they simply fade away, leaving dorothy and alice with only the lessons they've learned and none of their strange new friends.
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undertale zeroes in on this first example and twists it – what if the octorocks in zelda were more than just free EXP? what if the "monsters" in those classic rpg games were all just as much people as link and his friends?
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undertale asks you to consider this question throughout. is this frog-like monster more than an enemy? what about this vegetable-shaped guy? is it okay to kill a monster if you're not sure how to get past them – or are they person enough to you to be worth finding a way to spare? what if you meet a relentless killer like the head of the royal guard or the king of the monsters himself? what about a killer robot? what about the reanimated corpses of long-dead monsters? what about a soulless talking flower that, just like you, sees the world as a game to be played?
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time and time again, the answer is yes. all of these characters are people – and the more you get to know them, the more you learn that they're not just their archetype. monster doesn't automatically mean disposable.
deltarune, then, takes undertale's ethos and twists it again. now it knows that you likely have been primed to extend personhood towards the undertale characters. but what about the darkners – new characters playing on that same idea? deltarune takes the simple premise of undertale and digs even deeper into it – these darkners are objects. you can kill them without much consequence. and the very fate of the world itself says that they're only there to assist the lightners – to happily serve their purposes and be discarded. some of them even appear content with this role – ralsei sure seems to be (after all, what becomes of darkners that struggle for anything else?)
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can you still extend personhood to these people? or will you accept the fate that many other characters like the darkners face – the fate of a world erased, a fountain closed, a world returned to "normal" with the people you're already happy to consider people?
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many archetypical stories play this fate to its end – which is why i think a lot of players do, too. but if you look at the characters' stories – at our protagonist's distress at ralsei's role to be their comforting servant and at spamton's inability to break free from his as a spam email; at spamton's conflict with his own fate; at spades kings' anger towards the system; at lancer's worry over what he is to his friends; at ralsei's role as servant and guide and his keen awareness of his own inescapable fate; at anything that happens in the snowgrave route – you'll see anything but the archetypes. the darkness may be growing, and many may be scared of the dark – but many found monsters scary, too.
(also, if you're feeling like you're craving deltarune stuff, i'd suggest checking out the newsletters or replaying the game! i tend to do the latter a lot just because i feel i should refresh my memory on characterization quite often, and it's interesting to discover a little something new to think about each time.)
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Note
I want a love like the movies- give me a trope/character dynamic from this list, a song (or a specific lyric from a song that you want me to base it off of, or even a poem, anything that is seen as art is acceptable here) and a time of day. I’ll use that to write a fic with a minimum of 1k words. 
kaz brekker with 29 (from the list) anddddd almost by hozier?? idk first song to pop into my head haha
Love- K.B x gn! reader
okay, this is the last of your requests and it's coming out on my official two year fic-iversary! I posted my first ever fic on maliciousbrekker two years ago to the day, and it's been a wonderfully wild ride in things ever since! No regrets with anything I've done here, honestly!
As for requests generally speaking, the goal is to have at least one more coming out over the weekend! My two year anniversary requests are taking precedent right now because I've been demotivated and haven't posted many of them, but after the two year anniversary requests are done, I'll go through my inbox and decide what I want to write vs what I don't and then I'll proceed and hopefully my requests will be open again by the date in my bio!
The prompt you chose was: reader/writer
Fic type- this is fluff!
Warnings-Kaz is probably a little ooc
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"You and your books," Kaz observed as he came into your place. You lived in a flat not too far from the Barrel, one that was simultaneously within walking distance of the Crow Club and the Slat as well as Wylan and Jespers place.
You'd bought it to own it with a portion of your money from the ice court, spruced it up to your liking and saved a room to turn into a library. Bookshelves lined the walls, covered in every book you owned and organized to your preference.
You'd bought a desk for Kaz to use, and within it were countless heist plans, countless letters to Nina, Matthias, and Inej, and even a couple of the journals that Kaz had bought two years before but had only begun using in the weeks after the Ice Court job had been completed.
"I have my books and you have your heists, love," you said, shrugging as Kaz sat at the opposite end of the velvety couch you'd kept in the sitting room. "Everyone has their vices."
"How is it?" Kaz asked. You jabbed at each other for your hobbies occasionally, poked fun and delighted in the sounds of scoffs that eventually turned into barely amused laughter, but in the end, you cared about the other persons hobbies, too.
No matter how much you may have poked fun at Kaz and his love for unlined leatherback journals, for the expensive ink he purchased from a Fabrikator near the heart of the city, you always bought him the ink when you noticed he was running low before he did.
You bought him new leather journals when you saw one that he might've liked in a windowsil and bought him ones engraved as a gift on his birthday or during the holidays.
And, in turn, Kaz did the same. He bought you books from the authors you loved whenever he'd heard that a new one was releasing, took your most beloved books to a book binder when the covers were wearing out and the spines needed re-gluing.
He asked how you liked the books you were reading when he noticed you were reading a different one, bought you the books that your eyes lingered on whenever you'd see something in a bookshop window.
"It's good," you said. "How're the heist plans coming?"
"Decently enough," he responded. "A hundred thousand kruge per person on a seven person crew, if you're in?"
You grinned as you closed your book, looking at the cover for a moment.
"How convenient it is that you ask me to join you on a heist when the book I'm reading involves one."
"Is that your way of saying yes?"
You shot him a look, and he nodded. "Yeah. It's your way of saying yes."
You watched him stand, heading for your office, a pen, and one of his journals.
"Love you!" You called after him. You heard Kaz's amused laughter in response and smiled to yourself.
He didn't need to say it back for you to know he loved you in turn. If anything, he'd likely be the one to turn down the lamps and blow out the low-burning candles when he was done planning the heist he'd asked you in on.
He'd be the one to find you with a book in your lap, having told yourself "just one more chapter" even as your eyes were drooping and sleep was on its way
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mercurygray · 22 days
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For the one word prompts, how about “security” + whichever one of your OCs the inspiration strikes! - @softspeirs
Katie, I hope you don't mind that I've decided to use this prompt for Crank and Laura!
For those of you who might be new here, Laura Arsenault is an OC of mine from The Darkening Sky; she's a nurse with the 128th Field Hospital and a good friend of Frankie Horgan, who is a good friend of Marj Gordon's. Part of Laura's story is that she has a brother, George, serving with a tank regiment, and an older sister, Vivian, who was one of the Army nurses imprisoned on Bataan.
--
She never thought she'd miss the war.
Well, not the war, exactly - Laura didn't miss the war itself. She didn't miss the smell of operating wards and dirt and wet canvas and boots that were never dry and washing out of a helmet and keeping the rats out of your bunk and scrubbing blood out of your nails. She didn't miss the dying, or the dead.
But maybe it was - was the being in it that she missed, the sense of shared self and shared goals and shared purpose. And she missed the people. They weren't ever alone, in that hospital - there was always someone to talk to, always work to help with, always someone to go see. And getting a date had been infinitely easier. Easy as pie, when you were one of only fifty or so girls and there were dozens - or hundreds - of guys at the dance.
Not any more. Now she was back home, where no one knew her, and everyone she did know was always a bus ride away instead of a two minute walk, and finding dates was awful - especially once everyone heard what she did for work. "Oh, a nurse." And then this odd little smile and an anecdote about whoever they knew in the hospital, or something like that, and she'd have to smile and nod and pretend to care.
And all the men were - well, she didn't know where they were, but none of them seemed to be in Boston, or at least, not the part of it that she was, and yet everyone seemed to have a brother, or a cousin, or a - a someone who needed to meet someone. But none of those guys ever seemed interested in more than one meeting. She wasn't desperate enough yet to start answering those ads in the paper, but it felt like a distinct possibility - reduced to twenty words or less.
So here she was again - another blind date, this time with Rose's cousin Charlie. "You'll like him," Rose had said, patting her arm and handing her the address of a restaurant. "He was a pilot."
A pilot - possibly her least favorite kind of soldier, probably because she'd seen so few of them, and heard so much, and your average infantryman didn't have a lot of nice things to say about the bomber boys, except that they were lazy, and they were late, and they were getting all the press. Now, come on, Laura, you haven't even met him yet.
Yes - hadn't met him yet because he was late, and now she was sitting, like a bad penny, all on her own at this table in the middle of the back wall trying not to look too lost in this big room with all these other perfectly paired off people.
"Miss Arsenault?"
Well, here he was - and lord, did he ever sound like a local boy - Laura heard it in every syllable. She held out a hand to shake, and he took it, his grip firm and uncompromising.
"Mr. Cruikshank."
He had a kind face - that was something, anyway. Not the sort of face she would have thought belonged to a pilot, if she was being honest, but that was Hollywood and a lot of movies talking. His hair, she could see, was very naturally curly, though he'd done his darnedest to comb it down into parting neatly. He was wearing civies, or mostly civies, anyway - charcoal grey trousers and a sweater that wasn't too far out of current fashion with his leather bomber jacket over it, his name, C. Cruikshank, stamped into the leather plate over his left breast.
"It's Charles, if that's too much of a mouthful."
Not Charlie, then. She'd have to remember that. "Laura," she offered, watching him pull out his chair and drape his jacket over the back. "The waiter should be back soon, I didn't - want to order without you."
"You ever been here before?" he asked, obviously just trying to make conversation, his eyes darting around the room.
"Once or twice, but not - not for dates." I'm trying not to sound like the kind of girl who goes on a lot of dates. "Rose said you were - were a pilot. What'd you fly?"
"Heavy bombers," he offered, shuffling a little in his chair. "B-17s, out of Norfolk. And you were a - were a nurse?"
She nodded. "Field hospital. We were everywhere."
"Imagine that was a -- a hard job." His eyes were still avoiding hers, his hands rubbing together nervously in his lap.
"I can't imagine what being in a plane was like. We didn't get too many airman."
He nodded, and Laura looked back down at the candle on the table, feeling foolish for not knowing what else to say. He was bouncing his leg, underneath the table, his chair not quite pulled in all the way, like he was going rather than coming, waiting for the check instead of waiting for the menu.
Well. I guess that's that on that, then. Failed before we even ordered. She'd get chicken - that was easy, and cheap, now, too. They could eat and mumble through something about the weather and she wouldn't have to do this again and she could tell Rose on Monday that Charles had been charming but not the guy for her.
Just how had Vivian managed it - finding the love of her life before the end of the war, and in a hospital, no less! Laura knew she shouldn't compare, but it was hard not to, when it seemed to have been so easy and where she was now seemed so hard. Not that Vivian had had it easy, at all - she'd only been in Hawaii because she'd been in the Philippines, and she'd only met Andy because she'd been on light duties, and him recovering from surgery. She'd made the mistake of saying it, once, a few months ago, and the look Vivian had given her would have scared anyone silent. "Don't say that, Laur," she'd begged. "I'm not lucky. You don't want to be where I've been."
"So, what did Rose say about me? When she set this up?" He looked nervous about hearing the answer.
"She said she thought we'd get along, I think." Laura offered, and then paused. Wait. That's ...not what she said. She said we wouldn't have to explain anything to each other. And she said that you'd had a hard war...but who didn't?
She didn't want to say that last part out loud - no one liked to be a charity case, and she knew that better than anyone. But as she thought about it, really thought about the way Rose had spoken about her cousin, she realized that Rose had only brought up meeting Charles when she'd told a story about Vivian. And she realized, finally, where she'd seen the look on his face before - in Vivian's eyes, always trying to find the exits, calculate the quickest way out. This man wasn't just a pilot - and maybe there were things from his war that he didn't want to explain, either, things that really were hard. "Do you want to switch places?" she asked, moving her chair out from the table a little.
He looked guilty, and…afraid, even, a man trapped who'd been trapped before. "My sister never wants to sit with her back to the door," she said, trying not to pry. "She always wants to - see that there's a way out." She paused. "Three years behind wire will do that to a person."
He looked up from his hands and stared. "Your sister?"
She nodded. "She was with MacArthur in the Philippines." She met his eye. "I don't mind, really."
"Thanks." They moved seats, leaving their coats where they were, and a kind of calm came over him as he took in more of the room. "Imagine she had it worse. I was…only eighteen months. In Germany. 43 to 45."
Laura could see her sister's face as he said that - could see Andy's face, too, talking with her brother George over their pipes after dinner about whether fighting in the heat or the cold was worse. "She'd tell you it wasn't a competition. If it helps."
He smiled at that, loosing up a little. "My doc says I should work on things like this - dinner, and conversation, and…crowded rooms." He shrugged. "I know no one likes a project, but I'm….trying." He smiled a little bashfully. "And I'm a little nervous anyway - Rose …didn't tell me you were pretty."
She felt herself blush, and looked down at her napkin. Well, all right, Charles Cruikshank, tell me I'm pretty. "She didn't tell me her cousin Charles was cute, either."
It was his turn to blush, and he did it almost sweetly, a touch of color coming into his already ruddy cheeks. "You know I haven't…actually been called Charles for about five years. He feels like…some other fellow that's not me. All my friends call me Crank."
"Crank?" What a name! Pilots.
He smiled again - really smiled, this time, his eyes even lighting up a little, and she was glad, finally, that he'd felt security enough in being called by his name to show her what his smile looked like. "Someone would tell you it's 'cause I complain a lot, but it's, it's short for Crankshaft. It's a long story."
The waiter appeared, pad and white apron at the ready. "Are we ready to order?"
Laura looked at Crank and smiled. She would still order the chicken, and there would be no need to talk about the weather. "Well, why don't you tell it to me? I think we've got some time."
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flanaganfilm · 1 year
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Hey Mike! I'm really sorry to hear about your experience on Hill House. I do a lot of work in VFX in pre/prod/post and I know that sort of production that feels like a sinking ship day in and day out. I do hope you have found some catharsis now that it's over.
The show shook me. Changed me. Made me reckon with myself as a storyteller and as a person. All for the better, I assure you.
I hope to one day tell such an impactful story of my own, either through one of my short films, or through the novel series I'm writing/illustrating. Which brings me to my question: How do you navigate the complexities of having authored a work that did so much harm to yourself but also did a lot of good for others? What lessons do you hope aspiring storytellers like myself take from your difficult experience? Thanks :)
Thank you for saying this.
It's true, HILL HOUSE was a very negative experience to make - but I will always be profoundly proud of the finished product. It's some of my favorite work. I may never again face down something as challenging as episode 6, and I love the impact it has on a lot of its viewers.
There's a weird thing that happens when you finish a project - it really ceases to be yours in any way at all. It belongs immediately to the audience, and they're given an experience that you will never have. When HILL HOUSE came out, I didn't watch it - I'd seen it hundreds of times by that point, but at the same time, I've NEVER seen it.
Every frame of it is informed by my experience making it, or my intentions, or the compromises we made here, or the line we cut there that I wish we'd kept, or a bad day on set, or a problematic actor, or a visual effect we never quite got right (there are a LOT of those in HILL HOUSE, some of them still make me wince.) So I'm never able to WATCH the show. It's a tradeoff we make all the time - if you're lucky enough to make a movie, or a TV show, that's the price of it - you'll never be able to watch it.
But, I get to see how it affects other people. More than anything else I've made, HILL HOUSE seems to have the largest and most passionate fanbase. (BLY is a close second, though that's a whole other blog entry - I could write a book about the complicated, fascinating experience of the BLY fandom).
But with HILL HOUSE, I'd hear a lot from people who lost loved ones, who navigate complicated family dynamics, and who have wrestled with depression or grief. It means the world to me. It's a strange divide, as I'll never see the show that they saw - but I am so grateful that it touched them the way it did.
I'm just about at the point where I think I'm capable of sitting down and truly watching HILL HOUSE. It takes years sometimes. I've watched a lot of my early work, like HUSH or GERALD'S GAME, and finally had the experience of really SEEING it. But HILL HOUSE has always felt a little too raw, and my memories still overpower my ability to separate myself from it. Maybe that's changed. Maybe I'll give it a shot this year. Half a decade seems like enough time.
But yes, it is complicated and strange with all of them. I so badly want to watch MIDNIGHT MASS, the project that was the most personal to me - but it flew off into the world just like they all do. I spent a decade working on it, and felt it flowing through me every day - like it was a part of me. But the moment the show was done and released into the world, it wasn't mine anymore, just like all the others. I remember feeling almost knocked over when it departed, for some reason I thought that one would always feel like a part of me... but no. They're like children, they all have to go live their own lives, and they don't belong to you. Not really.
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trivalentlinks · 1 year
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Why I love Benoit Blanc (Knives Out, Glass Onion (which is very good and I recommend watching!))
(and why I think he's fundamentally different from the standard whodunnit detectives)
non-spoilery upshot: He's kinder, and more importantly, more dedicated to directing his intellect at being kind. Also, he is more willing to let others shine and take centre-stage.
[Heavy spoilers for both Knives Out and Glass Onion. Major plot points for both movies are spoiled. The ending of Knives Out is explained in detail.]
[This can be read without watching either movie, but both movies are big on twists and turns, so I wouldn't recommend spoiling them for yourself if you haven't seen them and intend to.]
I've seen some reviews say that the detective, Benoit Blanc is just like the standard whodunnit detective, if a little funnier, and I must disagree. I mean I love detective stories, and I love all the standard whodunnit detectives, Sherlock Holmes, Hercule Poirot, Columbo, Miss Marple, Miss Fisher, etc, especially Sherlock Holmes and Miss Marple who were instrumental in my learning to enjoy reading as a kid, but Benoit Blanc stands out to me in a lot of ways, many of which Glass Onion really highlighted.
For one thing, Benoit Blanc goes out of his way to reassure and comfort the victim or the scared bystander or anyone who needs it. I mean, all the standard whodunnit detectives do, too, (Holmes's kindness was a large part of what made me fall in the love with the character the first time I read the short stories as a kid) but Benoit is good at it. Like he's brilliant, they all are, but you really get the sense that he's directing that intellect to making sure that he says what the victim needs to hear.
In the case of Knives Out, for example, a wealthy, obnoxious guy had managed to trick a nurse into believing that she had given his grandfather the wrong vial of medication and thus killed him, but it turned out that the bad guy had used a syringe to switch the meds to try to get her to give him the wrong one to begin with, so she had in fact given him the right medication all along.
(She had given him the medication, then looked at the vial and realized that it was wrong, and decided that she had killed him. He (the grandfather) then tried to cover for her by theatrically committing suicide.)
When Benoit explains to everyone that the bad guy had switched the medication, the nurse says, "So when I accidentally switched the medications, I actually gave him the right one."
To which Benoit could have just agreed and moved on, but he makes a point to say "You gave him the right one, yes, but not accidentally."
He then explains that she gave him the right one because she is a good nurse. He shows her that even with the labels taped over, she could tell which one was right because there's a slight difference between the tensions and viscosities of the liquids, because she's done it a hundred times, because she's a good nurse.
Benoit then tells her, with tears in his eyes, that if the grandfather had listened to her and called for an ambulance when she realized that she'd given him the medication from the wrong vial, instead of trying to cover for her, he'd be alive.
And just. He didn't have to go that hard. I'm not convinced that Poirot, Columbo, Marple, Fisher, or even Holmes would have gone the extra mile in this way. They might have explained that she knew because of the tension and viscosity, that she knew because she's done it a hundred times, but they wouldn't have paused and made sure she was them when they added, "You knew because you are a good nurse."
With Glass Onion, it works a bit differently; Helen is also scared and a bit lost for a lot of the movie, but she has no reason to feel guilty about her sister's death. Instead her overwhelming feeling about it is justified rage.
This one is interesting, because initially, Benoit doesn't quite know what to do with Helen's anger, though even at the start he subtly helps her channel it into bravery when she's scared and unsure. But by the end, he has seen and listened and observed enough to know exactly how to help her work with all that fire inside her.
Which leads me into another thing I love about Benoit that sets him apart from other detectives: the way he includes the victim. Most detectives just listen to what the victim has to say about the crime, and then go off and investigate on their own or with their friends, only informing the client of the results at the end, but Benoit goes out of his way to ensure that Helen is included in every aspect of the investigation.
And, of course, in the end, he passes her a glass of liquid courage and a little something else and encourages Helen to get her own vengeance in a show that would please anyone's inner pyromaniac, allowing her to have the spectacularly satisfying ending that she gets to tell him about later.
And that makes Benoit Blanc fundamentally different from Poirot, Marple, Fisher, or Holmes, who are always the ones centre stage for the satisfying ending.
And one final point regarding the review I read that said that Benoit was similar if a little funnier: I actually don't think Benoit Blanc is necessarily that much funnier than other whodunnit detectives. The movies overall are funnier, since they're definitely comedies, but Poirot, Columbo, Marple, Holmes (in the original and all the adaptations) and especially Fisher can be pretty funny at times.
But the humour surrounding Benoit Blanc is different from the other detectives in that it's never really at the expense of anyone other than Benoit himself. Holmes, Columbo, Marple and Fisher are often funny because they're biting, whereas that's not really what Benoit's about. The humour is more about his being lovably bumbling with the accent and the swimsuit and the setting off the ridiculous smoke detector and then hilariously failing at hiding the cigarette, etc.
And I love that for him.
Love the humour, love the kindness, love the humility, love the willingness to cede the stage for the final satisfying ending.
-
PS: I also love that Benoit Blanc is canonically queer and living with his partner, who the director says "And there’s nobody in the world I can imagine in bringing me more joy for Benoit Blanc to be with." And Daniel Craig says "No spoilers [but] who wouldn’t want to live with that person?" [source] Love this for him, too, but I'm not sure this sets him apart from the other detectives; Miss Fisher is canonically queer and Sherlock Holmes is canonically queer in several adaptations, I think.
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respectthepetty · 4 months
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15 Questions
Tagged by @italianpersonwithashippersheart and @pandasmagorica
1. are you named after anyone?
Yes. First name is after my cousin's imaginary friend because my parents were wild. Middle name is after the song I was conceived to because my parents were really wild.
2. when was the last time you cried?
Externally? I joke that I haven't cried since 2009, but I really think that is the last time I cried. Internally? Every single fucking day.
3. do you have kids?
Oh, Lord, no.
4. what sports do you play/have you played?
Basketball, volleyball (horrible at it), fast-pitch softball, but I love watching all live sports.
5. do you use sarcasm?
Strange story, but many educators have to get "empathy training" because we do not understand declarations of self-harm to be serious. We think they are sarcastic comments. I think as an aging millennial, sarcasm is all we have, so we do not recognize when someone else is being serious. So . . . yes, I use sarcasm.
6. what’s the first thing you notice about people?
Vibes. I travel alone, so if the vibe ain't right, I'm out.
7. what’s your eye color?
Very dark brown
8. scary movies or happy endings?
Happy Endings. Both kind. *wink*
9. any talents?
Navigation and directions. Stick me anywhere, and I will find my way to where I need to go. Metro, bus, interstate, walking. Doesn't matter. I will figure it out. Also driving. I can drive loooong distances and any vehicle is my friend, which is why I got a ticket on the autobahn because I was just vibin' in the Audi at 150 km.
10. where were you born?
Japan
11. what are your hobbies
Traveling, especially for live music. I've seen hundreds of artists individually and have been to almost fifty music festivals. Some of my favorites are Austin City Limits (Austin), Electric Daisy Carnival (Las Vegas), Lollapalooza (Chicago), Country Music Awards Fest (Nashville), Osheaga (Montreal), Ultra (Miami), Primavera (Barcelona), Mad Cool (Madrid), and Pa'l Norte (Monterrey, México). Some of my favorite venues are Meow Wolf (Santa Fe), Red Rocks (Denver), and Fenway Park (Boston), and I had a ticket to see a concert at the Palace of Versailles in France for May 2020, then everything went to hell in a hand basket. But strangely, I saw Bad Bunny, Big Freedia, and French DJ Gesaffelstein in 2020.
I could talk for hours about music, but I'll stop with this picture (not mine because none I took came out good) of Gesaffelstein who dresses like this for his shows with an all black background and all black equipment. Ah-maze-zing.
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12. do you have any pets?
Oh, God, no. I'm a Disney villain. I don't mess with animals. Or plants.
13. how tall are you?
5'9" (This is a good country song too)
14. favorite subject in school?
Languages & Literature, which is why I teach English now.
15. dream job
What I'm doing now. Teaching. Except I would like to grade less than ~150 essays every month, but education is a mess right now, so y'all be nice to your professors.
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cyren-myadd · 2 months
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I often see people describe Spider as a neglected child. Do you think that is totally accurate? Would Norm and the other scientists have set rules and boundaries? If Lo’ak and Spider did something stupid together would Jake punish both of them? What would a scene like this look like?
I don't think Spider was PHYSICALLY neglected, as in the adults always made sure he had food, water, medical care, and a safe place to sleep. But was Spider EMOTIONALLY neglected? Yes, I think so. The High Ground comics don't go into much detail about Spider's relationship with the people who raised him, the McCoskers, but what little we do see is nothing like the love and care Jake and Neytiri have for their children. I definitely don't think McCosker ever abused him, and I'm sure the other humans would've stepped in if he ever physically neglected him, but I one hundred percent believe the McCoskers emotionally neglected Spider. When Jake decided to move the Omaticaya and the allied humans to High Camp, Spider was packed and ready to go, and he didn't seem to care about never seeing his foster family again. Same with McCosker. McCosker was annoyed with him for trying to run away with Kiri, but he didn't really seem to care that Spider would prefer to live with the Na'vi and loyal humans over his foster family. If a kid is willing to leave behind the people who raised him for 14ish years without even saying goodbye, there is clearly something wrong with the relationship between the kid and the family. That emotional connection, knowing that there's an adult who loves you and would help you if you were in danger, just wasn't there for Spider like all the other child characters have.
(it seriously kills me that every time another child character was in danger, there was an adult rushing to rescue them concerned about their wellbeing, but when Spider was in danger, the only ones who did anything about it were A. the other child characters, which didn't end well :( and B. the war criminal who needed a 3-hour movie to realize he actually does care about his son)
As for the scientists, I'm sure they cared about Spider and made an effort to teach him things (I headcanon that Norm is the one who taught him to read and write and other basic human stuff while the Sully kids taught Spider the Na'vi stuff) but at the end of the day, they weren't his guardians and weren't responsible for raising him, teaching him rules, and disciplining him. That would fall to McCosker, and as far as I can tell with McCosker, it looks like he just gave up on raising Spider and lets him do whatever he wants as long as he comes home to sleep at night. We could speculate that maybe McCosker was a better parent when Spider was younger, but based off of how one of Spider's earliest appearances in the movie is him running around in the jungle with unkempt, matted hair and his only adult supervision there because he was with the Sully kids, we can guess that McCosker wasn't always that invested in raising Spider.
When it comes to discipline, I don't think Jake would feel like it's appropriate for him to discipline Spider and would prefer to leave it to McCosker. That's what he did in the comics when the boys were in trouble for exploring the battlefield. Jake makes it clear in both the comic and the movie that he does NOT view himself as a parental figure to Spider, and thus he's not responsible for disciplining him when he fucks up.
I'm very curious to see if Jake's relationship to Spider is different in A3. Since Spider went through literal torture to keep High Camp safe and ran back into a battlefield with zero hesitation to help Jake find Kiri and Tuk, I wonder if Jake will decide to properly look after Spider instead of just letting him hang out with his kids. I've seen some folks say Jake's "a son for a son" line is meant to symbolize Spider's adoption into the Sully family, but I don't think an adoption should happen until A. the Sullies know Spider saved Quaritch and they resolve that situation, and B. Spider and Neytiri resolve their issues.
Whatever ends up happening, I just want Spider to have the same love and protection that all the other child characters have. All children deserve to have a parent who loves and protects them, even if they have made some pretty big mistakes like saving Quaritch. If Jake can be forgiven for helping Q plan Hometree 9/11, Spider can absolutely be forgiven for only sparing his life when all his other actions opposed him.
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I need more from The Sea Beast. There's got to be other kingdoms that have monster hunters, you want me to believe that this has been going on for hundreds of years and one speech was all they needed. No, I need a TV show or a sequel. I want more of Maisie, she was honestly the best main character I've seen in a long time. Is it possible I love her because she's Black? Um yes..
Speaking of which, They did the Black Characters of this movie so Well!! The hair, the white palms. It was honestly so nice to see. Sarah and Maisie were so much fun to watch.
I want to know what happened to the King and Queen, did they have any children? What's going to happen to the kingdom? What about Jacob's crewmates and captain crow? The world is to massive for this to be the end.
What about solo hunters, that don't fight monsters on a ship but try to do it on their own. Is that incredibly stupid? Yes. But people are stupid like that.
I love the found family trope and I want to more Jacob, Maisie and Blue.
Where's paramount plus? I feel like they'd pick this up in a heart beat.
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captainkippen · 14 days
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HELLO ! feed me tyrus date headcanons please !! or literally any andi mack headcanons i love seeing everyone’s thoughts <333
Oof, it's been a while since I've done one of these so you'll have to excuse me if I'm a lil rusty!
• Their first official date is dinner at The Spoon and bowling. It's supposed to be chill, but Cyrus absolutely has a mini meltdown to Buffy and Andi right before. It takes until he sees TJ to calm down and remember it's just TJ.
• They hold hands under the table the entire time and get so absorbed in their conversation they almost forget to order food (baby taters is of course the main event).
• Afterwards they go bowling and play a surprisingly competitive game. TJ kinda loves how excited Cyrus gets when he's winning. It's cute.
• When TJ gets his first car the first thing he does is plan a surprise date to a drive-in theatre. They break down half way there and end up having a bizarre picnic of movie snacks out beneath the stars while they wait for roadside assistance. It didn't go as planned, but Cyrus maintains it's one of the most romantic dates they've ever had, especially since TJ lent him his jacket when it got chilly.
• When they're older they have a set Date Night™ every week (scheduling is a nightmare otherwise). At first they tried to plan exciting new things every time (rock climbing was a mistake and they ended up in the ER) but they've since learned the best dates are the ones where they get to spend hours talking and snuggling up together. They've yet to run out of things to discuss. Other couples keep telling them it'll happen, but Cyrus is pretty sure he and TJ could talk about the freakin weather and still have it be the most absorbing thing in the world. They just need each other and they're set.
• The worst date of their lives is also the best. Everything that can go wrong does. It's the middle of the week, they're both tired, work is hectic, the lease on their apartment is almost up and they still haven't managed to find a new one. TJ burns dinner by accident and gets so annoyed he kicks the oven. It breaks.
• Now, while TJ still has his moments, it's been a long time since Cyrus has seen him react to frustration like that. He's a little alarmed by the reaction, so he loops his arms around him, hooks a chin over his shoulder, and tells him that the charred lumps of misery are just "extra flavour, really, I bet it'll taste great!"
• TJ can't not laugh at that.
• Cyrus heads over to the refrigerator to dig out leftovers instead. It's pretty barren, but when he turns around to ask if TJ just wants to get takeout he finds his boyfriend down on one knee.
• Turns out TJ was frustrated that the night he was planning to propose hadn't gone perfectly. It didn't matter in the end though, all he needed was Cyrus.
• After fifteen years, two breakups (they were angsty teenagers and both times it lasted like... A Minute), and roughly five hundred or so dates, Cyrus says yes.
• Best date ever.
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ageless-aislynn · 7 months
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List 7 comfort films and tag 7 people:
I was tagged by the always ever-awesome @missoliverstark Thanks, hon!
Twilight
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Hey, man, don't judge me. 😐
😂 I can't explain it but, if I'm stressed out, I can put on the first Twilight and just chill. It is what it is. 🤷‍♀️
2. Lord of the Rings: The Fellowship of the Ring
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Technically, the entire trilogy fits the bill but I've literally seen Fellowship several hundred times by now. I bought the Special Edition DVD set for Fellowship before I even owned a DVD player, lol! I eventually got to the point where I could not only recite the English dialogue, I could recite the Elvish as well. This movie has been burned into my brain and I wouldn't have it any other way. 🤗
3. The Mummy (1999)
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I'm not saying I've watched this movie a lot but... well, I wore out my VHS copy. The image literally faded out in places. It's one of the few, if possibly only movies that I own in 3 formats: VHS, DVD and Blu-ray. Considering how much I adore it, I'm floored that I've never actually vidded it yet. Oh well, there's still time; I mean, an Ardeth Bay tribute to "I'm Sexy and I Know It" would totally work, right? 😇
4. Ladyhawke
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This one has proved redonkulously hard to find a decent transfer on DVD or Blu-ray, so I haven't seen it in ages. That said, it's another I watched SO many times on VHS and it's definitely one of the formative movies of my life. 😍
5. Beauty and the Beast
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I enjoyed the live action version as well but I'll give it to the classic animated version for this reply because I've seen it more. 🤗
6. Godzilla vs Kong
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Okay, so is a giant radioactive lizard and a giant gorilla beating the stuffing out of each other supposed to be a comfort movie? Probably not but it's just one I enjoy watching when I want to kinda chillax, so... 🤷‍♀️😂😉
7. Star Wars
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Technically, Empire Strikes Back is the one of the original trilogy I tend to default to but I've seen A New Hope and Return of the Jedi a lot as well. Any of them just takes me back to a simpler time as well as reminds me where my love of fictional scoundrels comes from. 😉
Honorable mentions:
TRON/TRON Legacy, Labyrinth, Terminator/T2: Judgment Day, Star Trek IV: The Voyage Home, Kingsglaive: Final Fantasy XV and Warm Bodies. Yes, I have weird tastes and odd ideas as to what makes a comfort movie, lol! 🤷‍♀️🤷‍♀️🤷‍♀️😉
No pressure tags: @coleishere @ghostslillady @authortobenamedlater @mrtobenamedlater @sarnakhwritesthings @helplessdreamersworld @fandomdancer @brianllama
And yes, I lost count but who even cares, right? 😛😂 Also, if you're reading this and would like to share your comfort movies, I'd absolutely love for you to! Please accept this as an official tag from me! *boops your nose politely* 💖🤗
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