#but some of the continuous comics are better when they stand separate

[incorrectbatfam]

Types of obnoxious batfam stans

Written by an obnoxious batfam stan

Not really a rant but something I've noticed over the years interacting in different spaces and I've decided to make your problem now.

Please note that I'm not saying there's any "right" way to be a fan because we all suck by virtue of being comic nerds, but there are certain kinds of batfamily fans that stick out to be in particular.

Anywho, here are 12 kinds of annoying batfam stans that you've probably run into and you better get a laugh out of it *points gun to your head*.

1) The Newbies Who Never Heard of Google

There's no shame in being new to something. It's a phase that we're all guaranteed to go through, whether we're 11 or 101. However, in this day and age, so many things can be easily googled that you don't need to shout every question you have into the VVorld VVide VVoid. If you need comic recs or a reading list, google it. If you wanna know a character's origin story, google it. If you need to know the color of Batman's underpants in a particular issue in 1965... well that's probably too specific for Google but Reddit will definitely have an answer.

2) The Middle School Authors

Before the 13-year-olds get up in my notes, I'm not saying everyone that age writes like this. Middle school is a state of mind. These fanfic writers usually stand out in a few ways.

They're oftentimes first-person POV or reader-insert. Give Y/N a break, she's tired.

The grammar is stunningly atrocious. I get if you're inexperienced or if you're writing in a second language, but we are in the prime era of autocorrect. If you need help, it's right there. Also, fuck c*nsoring b*d w*rds and fuck "unalive."

The characters do things that are out-of-character because the author is projecting their own personality. Bruce Wayne is a lot of things but he does not listen to the fucking Mountain Goats.

There's a lack of experience or research when it comes to certain topics. That's not how physics works. He can't walk that injury off. And that's definitely NOT how you do the horizontal hokey pokey.

3) The Neckbeards

Unfortunately, these basement-dwelling mouth-breathers tainted the image of what a comic fan is, though that's been changing recently. Still, we've all seen them. They gatekeep via pop quizzes, 'cause obviously you're not a real fan unless you know what page 10 of Batman #138 smells like. They give unsolicited commentary on people's cosplays, nitpicking the guys and being gross toward women. And heaven forbid the comics add a little diversity.

4) The Moviegoers

Nothing inherently wrong with getting into the fandom via the movies, nor is there anything wrong with sticking to that. I just feel like we're two different species of Galapagos finches, you know?

5) The Christopher Nolans

Separate from casual fans of the Nolan movies. I'm calling them the Christopher Nolans because these people have a tendency to reach for the grimdarkest thing possible. It's like they cannot fathom Batman having any other emotions besides punching and gargoyle brooding.

6) The Canon Purists

Wanna share a fun headcanon? NO, because Stephanie Brown never used cherry lip balm in the comics so therefore that must be the absolute truth. These people are a stickler for comic accuracy to the point where it's like... why bother interacting with the fandom in the first place? The worst part is when they're adamant on following a single continuity and refuse to consider anything else. This is comics we're talking about. Everything either has been or will be canon at some point.

7) The Fanon Worshippers

On the opposite end of the spectrum, we have the people who base their entire perception of the characters on something either they pulled out of their ass or that their mutual with 16 followers came up with, despite evidence directly contradicting it. I love WFA, but I feel like that's partially responsible for further perpetuating certain popular myths. Also, these fans tend to focus solely on the batfam/their ships. It's one thing to have some people in the foreground vs. background, but put some respect to Bart Allen's name you goddamn cheesecakes.

8) The Golden Age Dads

These guys aren't really obnoxious. I actually find it kind of cute how they think Jason Todd is still dead.

9) The Chronically Online

I have a rule of thumb when it comes to discourse: if it's not something I'd hear about at a bar, it's not worth my mental energy. Some people haven't gotten the memo, though.

These are either the well-intentioned but misinformed teenagers or grown-ass adults beefing with children because they don't have a life. They have takes that are oversimplified, rage-inducing, TikTok algorithm attention-grabbers that no one cares about in real life.

Don't get me wrong, we've got a bunch of issues in comics and fandom that are worth discussing. However, there comes a point where you're splitting hairs and need to go the fuck outside. I'm not gonna link the post 'cause I don't wanna call them and their 7 notes out, but the other week I saw someone saying Stephcass was a racist ship because something something colonialism parallel. You gotta be Elastigirl to have that kind of reach.

10) The Corporate Simps

I love comics. I appreciate the writers and artists. However, you will find my carcass in a ditch before you catch me licking the boots of DC/Warner Bros. Basically, these fans, fewer as they are, can't seem to fathom that their favorite franchise can (and does) put out some steaming motherfucking garbage.

11) The Hot Cosplayers

Not actually annoyed, I'm just a little jealous. Stop being hotter than me, please and thank you.

12) The One With A Punchline For Everything

Wait–

#dick grayson #jason todd #tim drake #damian wayne #duke thomas #stephanie brown #cassandra cain #barbara gordon #kate kane #alfred pennyworth #selina kyle #bruce wayne #batman #batfamily #batfam #batboys #batbros #batkids #batsiblings #batman family #dc comics #dc fandom #comics #comic books #fandom #fandom culture #discourse #personal #tw swearing #long post

[to-be-a-dreamer]

“Separate the art from the artist” is what you say when you still find joy in art that was created by a person who has done something harmful, but their art isn’t directly tied to their actions as a person, so you find ways to privately enjoy it without directly supporting them. It is not something you say to make yourself feel better about directly financially supporting a person who admitted to physical domestic abuse (which is an actual literal crime that people go to jail for, not some kind of petty internet discourse that a notes app apology can fix) just because you can’t stand to let go of your favorite mediocre white boy.

A streamer is not the kind of artist you can separate from the art. Music is another thing but if you’re able to listen to a man sing about being a toxic partner while knowing what he’s done you may need to spend some time unpacking that. And if you’re one of the people who found comfort in using his content as a form of escapism before you knew about all of this, I’m sorry and I know this must be hard to come to terms with but that’s something you need to deal with in private and it’s not an excuse to continue giving a platform to an abuser.

Always believe victims and go support Shelby! She’s been my favorite Minecraft content creator for years and she’s amazing at what she does! Her YouTube and streaming content is great and I’m also a big fan of her work on Kollok 1991 and The Unleashed, which are TTRPG shows if that’s something you’re into! Kollok is a lot more gritty and definitely not PG (think Stranger Things but with more of a horror element) and the Unleashed is like a comic-book super heroes series that’s a little more similar vibes to her usual content. (Featuring an all LGBTQ+ cast and GMed by Aabria Iyengar!) The Unleashed is pretty short for a TTRPG series and a great place to start if you’ve never seen that kind of thing before!

#tw abuse #cw abuse #shubble #shelby shubble #not the kind of thing i usually talk about but I’ve seen too many people misusing that phrase and it simply must be said #the number of people who have said they don’t care what he’s done they’re still going to support him is disgusting #‘I went to therapy I’m better now’ is a shit apology and you all know it #are there ways to consume his music without directly supporting him? #definitely but the majority of people saying this aren’t intending on doing that #wilbur soot #I don’t even want to tag him but I know that’s where the people who need to be told this are

[meowthefluffy]

An update on my unfinished au’s!

I have over the last few months fallen deeply out of love with the Sanders Sides series and as a result I have not updated any of my projects in some time. At the current point I am at I am only planning to do the final two installments in the cupid au (because I pretty much lost my affection for the ts series right before the big finale of the project!!) and the lust Roman au (as it is my longest running work to date and I want to comple the project as a show of dedication to my younger self) although it will most likely be on a much quicker time scale than I was intending originally! (Instead of the 11 more parts I was hoping to produce it will probably be closer to 5 and I will most likely skip a few parts of the story that weren’t as important)

I feel a lot of affection for the work I have created but not a lot for the actual series so I’m trying to find a way to rework the stories I’ve created for the au’s to become independent creations that I will enjoy continuing to make! (Aside from the Lust au which I feel is mostly a story I don’t feel the need to come back to/rework since it relies so heavily on the source material) Most of my au’s function as stories mostly separate from canon material except for the characters archetypes present in each, so I’ll be working on retooling/reskinning said work to be more original and workable as long term projects! (Since u guys were really invest in my plots which had almost nothing to do with the canon characterization)

I’m currently working on retooling the Zombie au (Which I used as heavy inspiration for my oc Sophia I sometimes post about and her girlfriend) the Cupid au (I’m putting together more creative designs for the characters so that I can hopefully redo the comic- since I’m super in love with the concept) The sleeping beauty au (since it functions entirely the same as a stand alone story- and I could use the designs of my princess characters from that comic I made a long time ago for Valentine’s Day ) and the Super hero au! (Which I never properly defined and thus have a lot of incomplete ideas for, and my only struggle is coming up with better super hero names for them)

The only one of my main au’s I probably won’t rework is the Evil king au- just because I’m not sure how I could retool it to not just be a story about abuse(I feel more comfortable creating a story where everything is horrible and bad and the people involved are just bad for eachother when it’s an au- because there is other work of those characters where they aren’t that way to balance it out- but if it were my own new characters I feel as though it wouldn’t be nearly as fun to read or write)

This is a series of decisions I’ve been trying to wait on for a long time because I have been hoping something sanders Sides related would come out soon that would re spark my interest but nothing so far has happened- and with the way the story is going I don’t think it’s something that is going to happen. I still love all the work I have created for this fandom and I am so proud of all the collaborative projects I have been able to create with you all! I will happily re-read your asks and comments on my comics and I am still really proud of the community I’ve been able to create!

I’m sad to let this part of my life go (it’s taken up a solid 4th of my lifetime) and I understand that a lot of you all won’t follow me to my new projects- because I understand you guys didn’t come here for random oc projects- or original comics. And Altho it breaks my heart to see some of you move on and leave my notifications I am happy I the time with you all that I did!

Thank you all for everything- and I’ll see you soon 💖

#Im going to use the Prinxiety tags so that more people will see this post- since I am one of the bigger Prinxiety centric creators) #prinxiety #ts roman #tsvirgil #virgil sanders #cupid! au #sanders sides #roman sanders

[showrunnerihardlyknowher]

Might sound absolutely insane but I can’t get this out of my head, what does Jacob do about basic hygiene? Like I’m sure Edix takes it upon himself to groom him or something fucked up but like. What about his teeth? What would happen if he got a cavity? Fingernails? They’ve gotta be LONG and painful. Hair? Im a curly girlie and cannot imagine being separated from my emotional support hairbrush. I am so stressed for this man that it’s coming out in motherly form. What happens when his shoes/ socks wear out and he’s freezing? Or when his body shuts down from lack of protein/ only eating fruit? I want to make this man a hat and a pair of wool socks and a giant fluffy blanket :( maybe I’m reading too far into everything but I am INVESTED, sorry this is so long, thanks for writing and including so much detail!!

[leans back in my comically oversized office chair and steeples fingers]

Venandi don't actually groom each other/themselves as a means of literal bathing, it's mostly just an expression of affection (like how real cats will lick another one on the head when they cuddle), so don't worry, Edix isn't washing Jacob with his spit or anything. He gets a nice sink bath every couple of days.

The more the Venandi learn about humans during their studies, the better Edix is able to take care of Jacob. It's pretty obvious there's tons of similarities between their species, but y'know, you can't always assume with aliens, whatever he uses for mouthwash might cause his pet to vomit blood. Jacob actually takes it upon himself to chew on mint leaves in the beginning because he can't stand having a gross mouth after so long, and rinsing with water. It seems to be working fine for him, so Edix let's him continue. If he gets a cavity...sucks to suck, I guess.

Jacob already bites his fingernails as a nervous habit so there's no issue with them being too long, and even if they were, they're too tiny for Edix to do anything about them. Just let 'em break naturally. Jacob tries to brush his hair to the best of his abilities with his fingers until he gets something similar to a pick comb from Ylva since its what she uses for Mibao's textured hair, which is better than nothing.

Technically in their current story, Jacob isn't wearing any of his original clothes anymore aside from his jacket. He now wears a specially made full body suit thanks to Venandi textile technology after Ylva gave him a bath when he was first given his medicine. If that outfit gets worn out for whatever reason, another one can be printed off for him in no time.

Yeah, unfortunately, Jacob is just straight up vegetarian at this point because no fucking way is he eating any meat he can't identify as coming from earth, and that still has yet to be determined WHICH earth animal it came from. Luckily, he does slightly broaden his range to a few foreign fruits that looks appealing enough and/or are shoved into his mouth by Mibao, which contain some of the vitamins and minerals he's otherwise missing. It's not a whole lot and he's fairly underweight even for his stature as a result, but it's better than being starved entirely. Kinda. Definitely anemic and vitamin D deficient.

Poor boy only deserves the best and continually gets the worst ): Someone take this baby back home to his mama and let him have one good day. Not me though, I don't write fluff, sorry (:

#ask #anon #oc jacob #oc edix #star wars rip off #im glad you enjoy these silly lil guys!!!!!! #always happy to answer questions about them

[detailtilted]

Next Enhanced Video In Process - CHICON 2008

WARNING: Heavy camera flashes below.

I thought I'd post an update in case anyone's curious. After finishing Comic-Con 2008, I moved on to CHICON 2008. The videos for the main panels are decent and they're upscaling nicely, but you'll all hate the quality of the Breakfast video. I'm doing that one first.

I made some improvements to the originals which are explained and shown below, but I couldn't upscale them. Jared came out ok, probably because he was closer to the camera, but even the most light-handed approach distorted Jensen's features too much.

However, one thing I improved were the flashes. The original videos are nuts. Flashes have been bad on other videos too, but I think the lighting in the room made them stand out worse here. I was afraid they'd give someone a seizure or something so I found a way to reduce them. I probably won't do this again on other videos because I used a free trial that expired and I've already put way too much money into software for this pet project. I don't think it'd work as reliably on the less dramatically flashy videos anyway, but I may reconsider the purchase if I encounter more videos like this down the road.

I also tried to do some color corrections, but it's erratic. Suppressing the flashes doesn't change the real life effect they had on the lighting in the room. Maybe that's why the color correction settings I applied didn't have consistent results throughout the video. I separated out some longer segments of drastically different colors and fixed them independently, but there was just too much fluctuation. Individually analyzing and correcting all 37,440 frames is way beyond the scope of this project (and my patience) and would probably require more lifetimes than I have.

Anyway, I wanted to post a short comparison video so people can see the difference. I think when people just see the enhanced video by itself they'll be like, "this sucks!" I was hoping people might not hate it as much if they've seen how it originally looked. I think the "enhanced" version, once I publish it, will be the best version that's been posted to date, even if it's still crappy.

This video has three 30-second samples:

Original version of Breakfast video.

My modified version.

Sample of upscaled main J2 panel to prove it will get better again after the Breakfast video. (No flashes removed. You can see them, but I think they're less painful.)

I've also made other adjustments that aren't seen in that sample:

The best-quality video has interruptions because the video taker also took pictures. This caused the frame to freeze and the sound to cut out. When possible, I edited in an alternate lower-quality video at those moments. I also edited in the alternate video to cover brief segments missing in the main videos.

The only other video that has the 1st two minutes is one where the video taker was scared to be too obvious about what they were doing and so recorded their legs and random non-J2 objects instead. 😂 But it was still helpful, because I substituted that video's audio in for the sections that cut out on the primary video due to the picture taking. We'll still have a few freeze frames in the first two minutes, but at least we can hear what was going on.

Speaking of hearing, there were some truly ear-shattering screams when Jared and Jensen first came out. I lowered the volume a little in those moments to save your ears some trauma.

This breakfast video will be the next one I release, but my video releases will be increasingly slow. I have something going on in real life that's eating up most of my spare time and will probably continue to do so off and on for most of this year. Nothing bad, just very time-consuming. This is a shorter video though, and I'm already well into the work on it, so hopefully it won't take too long.

#enhanced edition con video development #more DetailTilted rambling

[rose-arwen-padme]

Suppression

The forbidden tale of Anakin and Padmé's AOTC courtship. A detailed expansion covering the movie, known deleted scenes, and many new scenes. If George showed 20% of their screen time, this is the other 80%. Told in Padmé's POV with ROTS awareness. Written for the enduring fans of Anidala.

Link to Prologue at FanFiction.Net and AO3

I Coruscant. Chapter 4: Fleeing

I didn't realize how lonely I was until Anakin came back into my life. I pushed away my personal wants and desires for so long that these freedoms became strangers to me. I poured all my breath into my political efforts and left none for myself. The fight and the successes sustained me, but I was a woman half-alive. My love for democracy beat in my heart like a furnace but it did not set fire to my blood— not like he did.

After years in a Senate filled with backstabbers who gave the holomovie actors a run for their money, I was unaccustomed to such an unfiltered soul, much less one deep in the pursuit of courting me. I remind myself of that whenever my regret berates me over the coals for the time I wasted resisting his charms. I was the elder, I tell myself, it was the right thing to do.

Right. Wrong. Truthfully, I'm too biased to decide such verdicts. All I know is, I was so lurched to the side of selflessness that when a chance came to finally want and take something for myself, I grasped at it like a woman starved. I thought I was rebalancing myself. But all I did was go from abstaining to gluttonously craving. Right and wrong increasingly didn't matter.

It certainly didn't to Anakin.

I was his, as he was mine, and he wasn't going to let a little thing like my penchant for self-sacrifice stand in his way.

Captain Typho, Dormé, and I ranted and raged together against the directive until we at last burned ourselves out. It took a while— we had plenty of fuel to feed our ire. No one liked the idea that I was being separated from my security retinue, especially when all duties and responsibilities were to be handed over to an unproven (last night's saber skills notwithstanding) teenage apprentice. I lost count of how many times Typho yelled, "He's not even a Knight!"

As to be expected, I was the most crushed over being forced off-planet at the crucial time of the MCA vote, but even the captain was openly dismayed by it. He usually kept himself more focused on the particulars of my protection rather than on my political labors, but even he was disheartened that the past year's work might come to naught. Ironically, considering he'd been the one most "grateful" and pleased when the Jedi got involved yesterday, the turn of direction they'd taken with this move significantly soured his appreciation. His switch to livid disapproval would've been comical, if all of it wasn't so frustrating.

I learned that Typho was informed of the situation by the chosen apprentice himself. It seems Ani comm called the captain while en route from the Chancellor's office and filled him in far more than the Chancellor had me. I got the impression this came more from Typho refusing to let Ani end the call until his list of demanding questions had been sufficiently answered— even Ani knew better than to hang up on an angry and incredulous Captain Typho. The specific order to go into hiding and travel as refugees on unregistered transport came from Mace Windu. Obi Wan had advised that Dormé take over the appearance of my continued presence on Coruscant, to be protected by Typho and the rest of the staff. They wanted to keep the bounty hunter's focus on the capital planet as much as possible while Obi-Wan carried out the investigation by himself. Beyond that, my fate was to be in the hands of Anakin Skywalker.

The official word would be that I was very much still on Coruscant but recovering from back-to-back assassination attempts. If the investigation took longer than expected, then the story would become that I was properly sick with some non-fatal but serious illness. Both the fighter and the truth-teller in me bristled at such excuses.

Throughout all this, Dormé would take over sleeping in my room and occupying my apartment during the daytime, which would remain on heavily armed lockdown. It was the compromise I fought hard for after the rant session when the last schematics were being figured out. Everyone agreed that Dormé didn't quite look enough like me to pass as Amidala in the halls of the Senate. Nevertheless, I'd made it clear that even the idea of Dormé walking through the city in my stead with the threat so close would result in my immediate refusal to hide, Chancellor's or Jedi's orders be damned.

At present, Dormé and I were in my room, splaying black suitcases across my bed. "It doesn't even make sense!" With my last word, I threw the first garment I randomly grabbed from the closet into a luggage box. "If it's so important that I go into hiding, why am I going to my home world? It's the first place a hunter with half a brain will check if they figure out I'm not on Coruscant."

With a somber smile, Dormé retrieved the thick snow jacket I'd flung into the suitcase and put it back on the hanger— I wouldn't need it where I was going. Softly, she offered, "Perhaps they know the planet most willing to hide you is your own." She paused, regarding me for a serious moment. "The people of Naboo would die before they let any harm come to you."

"Let's hope it doesn't come to that." Then I swallowed painfully, realizing it already had.

Dormé shook her head from side to side. "I still can't believe their putting your safety in the hands of a Padawan."

I didn't comment. My frustration at Ani had cooled since earlier, and, in truth, I felt some shame for the anger I'd directed his way after the order came down. He couldn't help his age, nor his status as an apprentice. Besides, if Typho's second-hand account was correct, the Council had given him this assignment unasked. He was following orders, same as me.

Not only that, but the longer I ran the situation over in my head, the longer I begrudgingly began to see where the Jedi and Palpatine were coming from. It didn't mean I liked it, but it was my job and my nature to consider the other's side in a disagreement or else be blinded by stubbornness.

Staying would mean going back and forth between last minute meetings and the Senate, increasing the risk of vulnerability to my entourage when most Senators already had their minds made up.

Leaving meant those left behind could lock down the apartment and stay put. Stay alive.

{More so than anyone, I've faced the pushback, the arguments, and worked out the compromises.}

Did I feel owed? Is that what this stemmed from? Pride?

My tenacity to see the defeat of the Military Creation Act through, while being something I indeed prided myself on, could put Dormé, Typho, Jar Jar, and the rest of my dedicated staff in lethal danger. Their lives weren't worth my glory moment in the sun.

It had already cost us Cordé and six others.

"Where do you think you'll go?"

I shot her a wry look. "You heard my travel agent."

While the Chancellor's suggestion that I see this as a vacation made my skin crawl, I couldn't disagree that the Lake Country made for a remote, secure hideout that was beyond idyllic. Not only was it beautiful, but it was possibly the safest place on Naboo for me, spare the palace. It was also home to where I always I felt the happiest— my family's lakeside house.

"Does that mean…?"

I nodded. "Varykino."

Continued at FanFiction.Net Link and AO3 Link

#Anakin and Padme #anakin x padme #star wars #anidala #anidala fanfiction #Anidala fanfic #star wars fanfic #star wars fanfiction #Anidalafic #padme fanfic #padme amidala #Padme #anakin skywalker #attack of the clones #aotc #sw prequels #padme deserved better #anakin deserved better #rosearwenpadme #SuppressionChapter4 #SuppresionRAP

[tobiasdrake]

Chapter 3 begins with Makoto very thoroughly explaining the plot, so we can let go of the dramatic irony from last chapter's conclusion. Komaru is now officially caught up on her archive binge of the Danganronpa Wikipedia.

Not super fond of this scene, mainly because having characters simply deliver story exposition while the protagonist stands around going, "What!?" and "Really!?" is the single worst way to deliver information to a character and audience. It's made worse when it's information the audience already possesses and that the character just needs to get caught up on.

Of course, Ultra Despair Girls is a separate game from DR1, so there's no guarantee that this is information the audience possesses. The principle of "Every comic is someone's first issue" applies here. UDG doesn't even have a number in its title which only increases the likelihood that some players might have picked it up without ever knowing it's the third game in a multimedia franchise.

That's precisely why Danganronpa protags are always totally ignorant about the events of past games. It puts them in a position where those events can be recapped for the benefit of newcomers. But they've never been very good at recapping that information organically, opting instead for a flat infodump. This scene is no exception.

Hell, V3 goes out of its way to set its game in a separate continuity entirely and it still finds reasons to infodump recaps of previous games on the player.

There are better ways to deliver information, guys. You're so good at this when you're doing character work. Ending chapter 2 with the shocking name-drop of Junko Enoshima and then beginning chapter 3 with a summary of Junko's Fandom Wiki entry is not a great way to go about it establishing this character for Komaru's benefit.

#danganronpa #ultra despair girls #revisiting udg

[nightskywonderer]

Superman & Wonder Woman: Being True

There seems to be this notion that when Superman and Wonder Woman are together, they see themselves as above humans or they lose their humanity is utter bullshit. There has been zero evidence of this in canon comics. Using goofy alternate shit like Injustice doesn’t make the argument either.

It was also said that they bring out uncomfortableness. Why? Because it’s acknowledged that they are different and not conforming to what’s acceptable as the norm? Well so be it. In the real world, no one lives for someone else’s comfort. You can miss me with that selfish entitled bullshit.

There are claims Superman and Wonder Woman needing to be anchored to human love interests to be relatable or lower themselves to be “normal”. No, no, hell, no. Lois Lane and Steve Trevor are not why Clark and Diana are the heroes they are. Clark and Diana were heroes, had their purpose way before them. Lois and Steve aren’t and should never be their motivation to do what’s right and what they were meant to do and be. Clark and Diana are far more “human” than any normal human any damn way. They selflessly make shit ton of sacrifices without any hesitation. What they do as individuals or a couple is on extraordinary levels and there’s nothing wrong with that. Flying across the skies like free birds is such a beautiful thing. Trying to cage these birds, ground and limit them is unnecessary and a shame.

As best friends with unresolved, underlying feelings or the Power Couple, it has always been established, their duty as heroes come first. They have been each other’s moral compasses, written to have complexed conversations about their purposes, the view of the world, open to each other about their deepest feelings etc.

To reiterate this again, Kal-El is from a different planet entirely. He is an alien. He may look human in appearance but he is not. He was raised to pretend to be normal but he is not normal. Yes, the Kents raised him with good morals and values but that sure as hell does not mean, he had to grow up to reject his heritage, and keep pretending to fit in and the mental gymnastics. Pre-Crisis and New52 Superman understood this assignment. Post crisis Superman, not so much. Superman was once the Champion of the Oppressed. He was to aspire and lead to better. To make a difference in a world of corruption. What happened to that? Now he is just stagnant, stuck in a comfort zone of pretending, romanticizing lies and being unethical at times. Protector of an outdated view and status quo. As well the obnoxious problematic depiction from the beginning of Rebirth of perfect privileged spoon-fed all American family that basically screwed up DC continuity even more so to force it as the “truth” or “real”. Superman/Kal-El/Clark Kent should be one in the same. Not choosing one over the other as one is fake/disguise. Ironically, in the animated adaption of “Throne of Atlantis”, Clark himself said to not be “one of them, but to blend in.” This was before the asspulled contrived asinine 180 of his character for Death of Superman adaption.

Diana of Themyscira is a Princess from a secluded island that was separated from man’s world for its chaotic bullshit. Yet, she wanted to explore the world, learn and teach, bring peace and people together. She celebrates life and love, stands for truth with one self and others. Motivate and fight for equality and the protection of women and children. Majority of Diana’s iterations have been consistent with this attitude. Except rebirth, who had to be thrown into a mental institution and losing herself because spiteful writer’s bias. You really expect me to believe homegirl was living a lie and in some kind of illusion within her mind or whatever for 10 years? LOL no. Although, she is a DemiGoddess, Diana is still very much an earth woman. And I mean that literally if we go with the clay origin.

What I loved about new52 Superman was his motivation to be Superman was the PEOPLE

Diana is the Goddess of Truth after all. To hide who you are, what you love and enjoy is a disservice to oneself.

The two together bring something unique and challenging. They have their similarities and differences that compliment.

But they don’t change who they are for one or the other. They learn from each other, accept even more of each other, and grow together as a couple.

In this day and age, we celebrate what makes us stand out and be our unique selves. Superman and Wonder Woman are suppose to THE epitome of this!

#superman #wonder woman #superman and wonder woman #wonder woman and superman #dc comics #superwonder #supermanwonderwoman #power couple #clark kent #diana prince

[aberfaeth]

sixth house enola holmes au... 2!

someday this might get posted to ao3 but for now it is too short and disjointed for my liking ANYWAYS have more girl detective camilla hect. this time: learning to dance in a fancy bathroom!

Camilla looks down at the kaleidoscope of waltzing pairs on the floor below, something like dread settling low in her stomach. She itches to be down there—can see the dark head of her suspect, the master of the house’s son, weaving through the throng of partygoers like a salmon through river current. He has his arm around the shape of a woman with soft blonde curls. She might be in danger. Any of them might be in danger. Camilla can still see the face of that murdered girl, in the dim corners of her periphery—the way her gaze had seared with wide-eyed panic before it settled blankly on the ceiling, and Camilla knew she had failed.

Hers is a good plan. It’s a great plan, even. You can’t run from questioning in the middle of a crowded dance, and the din of conversation and music affords some sense of privacy, even surrounded by nosy aristocrats. The problem, though—the sticking point—

Over the months since their initial separation, Camilla has found that much of the skills Kiana taught her have been easily put to use in detective work. She is quick on her feet, better with daggers than most adult men, and her mind is honed just as sharply to gather clues and draw conclusions. The areas she fails in for lack of experience have been largely simple to substitute with other more blunt tactics, or rarely, with assistance in the form of a certain socially adept Marquess, whom she sorely wishes was here right now, because, well—Kiana never taught her to dance.

And then, like a bolt of divine lightning, she sees him.

Master Warden Palamedes Sextus, Marquess of Basilwether stands on the opposite side of the mezzanine, the long, crisply-dressed form of him leant against one of the tall marble columns. He’s got his nose buried in the journal he keeps in his suit jacket pocket, scribbling something probably unintelligible, judging by the angle he’s holding his pen at—Camilla isn’t sure when she started being able to predict his handwriting by the way he holds his writing implements, but there’s no time to think about that. She has a case to solve.

Somewhere between walking and running, the half-frantic motion safely hidden beneath the ridiculous frills of her ridiculous dress, Camilla makes her way across the mezzanine. The Warden looks up at her approach, brow raising in near-comical surprise. He manages to tuck his book back inside his jacket moments before she seizes his wrist. “Warden,” she says, in place of introduction or explanation, and proceeds to drag him off towards the side, to where she knows the door to the bathroom is. 

Either he’s too shocked to respond, or he’s just gotten used to her tendency to steal him away in the middle of important functions—he doesn’t argue or question, only steps forward to walk in time with her. “Camilla,” he says, but before he can continue, they reach the white paneled door, and she drags him inside.

The restroom here is larger than any bedroom Camilla has ever lived in, a wide stretch of tile and delicate blue patterned walls. Two gold-framed mirrors hang on the wall above a clean white vanity. Candelabra imitation table lamps stand on burnished side-stands in each corner of the room. There’s even a porcelain bathtub, pressed up against an arch of navy blue backsplash.

Camilla ignores the fineries around her, except for the one standing stiffly over the center tile. “I need you to teach me to dance,” she says.

“Teach you to dance—when?” the Warden says, watching her lock the door behind them.

“Teach me to dance now,” Camilla says, striding up to him—changing her mind rather abruptly—choosing, instead, to pace the length of the ostentatiously beautiful bathroom.

He makes a noise that is neither a laugh nor a splutter and yet somehow both. “Wh—it took me months to learn to waltz, you know.”

“You’re not selling yourself as an instructor,” Camilla replies, sharply. Nevertheless, her chest sparks with that odd, warm amusement she’s come to associate with him.

The Warden sighs, shakes his head. “Camilla, what are you doing here?” he asks, spreading his hands helplessly.

Before she can think about how much she definitely shouldn’t tell him this, Camilla says, “I’m looking for a murderer.”

He perks up, at that. Like an excited little puppy. “Oh! Can I help?”

“Yes.” Camilla stops pacing, turns a sharp thirty degrees to face him head-on. “You can teach me how to dance, Warden, so I can question my suspect without telegraphing to everyone in the room just how much I don’t belong here.”

The Warden opens his mouth, and then closes it—his tongue peeks out to wet his lips, still clearly hesitant. Camilla looks at him and does not think of anything else except for the expression the dead girl had made as she choked around the dagger in her chest, the blood that had stained her white teeth. She steps forward, and takes both of the Warden’s hands between her own, and meets his gaze with the most open entreaty she can manage. “Please, Palamedes,” she says.

For a moment, he simply stares down at her, lips slightly parted. And then, he nods, blinking. “Alright,” he says, squeezing her hands. “Um—hold your back straight.” When she raises her shoulders, he hums in approval. “I’ll place my hand here, and—here.” Lightly, carefully, like running his fingers over an open flame, he presses a palm to the curve of her waist. The other hand, still wrapped in one of her own, he holds to the side. 

This close, she can smell the clean, soapy scent of his aftershave—can feel the delicate huff of his breath against her half-bared shoulder. “Hold your arm out,” he murmurs, and she does—he raises his hand off of her hip for a moment, nudging her elbow a touch higher. Like this, the ribbon tying the bottom frills of her dress to her wrist is pulled taut, and the garment no longer drags along the floor. Satisfied, he curls his fingers back around her waist. After a breath, his thumb settles more firmly beneath the bone of her tenth rib. “Good,” the Warden says, and Camilla does not feel anything whatsoever about the low timbre his voice has slipped into, nor the way his eyelashes are nothing more than a long smear of black across his cheekbone in the dim candlelight, nor the pleased tilt of his mouth, which she is also not looking at.

“Now,” he says, straightening slightly, “I will lead, and you will follow.”

“A new and bold direction for us,” Camilla cuts in, mostly out of habit. Her breath feels large and shaky, like a newborn foal.

He grants her the edge of a fond smile. “Face over my shoulder, darling.”

The endearment slips so naturally from his lips that Camilla doesn’t register it for a full three seconds, and by that time he has already started to move them, slow steps marked by the gentle one-two-three count of his voice. They start small, spinning glacially around a two-meter square of tile, before he judges her ready for larger steps. Only once does her held arm slip down far enough for the edges of her dress to brush against the floor. He readjusts her elbow without breaking his count, and then leads her into a twirl, slipping back around to catch her waist and bring her close to him again.

Initially, Camilla has to focus all of her attention on keeping that arm up, on stepping in time with him, on moving to someone else’s internal timepiece. But soon—sooner than she imagined—she finds herself drifting along beside him without much effort. Either he’s a very good teacher, or dancing isn’t that hard, after all, or—

“There we go,” the Warden says, barely loud enough to classify above a whisper. He steps out, turning away from her, and she mimics the motion, as something she’s seen other people do. When he returns and sweeps her back into his arms, his smile is pleased. “Good,” he says, again, and Camilla has to hold her breath, lest the thing inside her roar loud enough to name itself. “Here—” he presses the side of a curved finger beneath her chin, and it’s only then that Camilla realizes her gaze had drifted towards the floor, to the places her dress folded elegantly around the stiff lines of his pant legs. The Warden raises her chin up towards him, and—she must be imagining it, but she thinks he might stroke his thumb just barely over the line of her jaw before slipping his hand back down to her waist.

Camilla stares up at him. She can do nothing else. She thinks, if something were to explode very noisily beside her, there is a chance she might not notice. The Warden’s eyes are the gray of iris florentina, cast in silvery glow. “There’s a sense of mathematics to dancing,” he says, spinning her again. The turn comes easier with practice. “The rhythm, the movement—it’s all recursive, deterministically polynomial. That’s why I liked it so much. I mean—dancing is a trust, and a union, and all of that, but. At its core, it’s a lot like fighting.”

“I’ll believe that the day I see you fight,” Camilla says.

The Warden plasters an affronted frown over the amused curve of his mouth. “I’ve been in a fight. You were there.”

“You were shot. That hardly counts.” They walk a few steps side-by-side, her arms crossed over her chest, both hands clasped in his. He lifts their threaded fingers, and she twirls, and thinks of the brush of his cufflink on her wrist and not the noises she made as she laid beside him and pleaded for him to wake, the relief she felt as he took that first, gasping breath, and pointed her to the shield of metal armor he’d stashed beneath his buttoned-up coat. He’d been bruised for weeks. Camilla clears her mind of the image. “Whensoever you choose to get into a real fight, Warden, I’ll permit you to describe it with authority.”

The Warden hums, nodding thoughtfully. “I suppose that’s fair,” he says. They’ve slowed, somewhat, steps growing shorter and closer. If she lifts her chin, she might brush the tip of her nose against his. “You’ll have to teach me, then.”

And it’s just that his hand has slid high enough around her back for his thumb to brush against her shoulder blade over the fabric of her dress, and his glasses are just beginning to slip, and neither of her hands are free but she’s close enough to nudge them into place with her forehead, if she leaned just an inch or two upwards, and his lips are parted and wet and he might be the most beautiful thing she’s ever laid her eyes upon and—

A knock sounds at the door. “We have an urgent situation,” someone outside announces, while Camilla and the Warden startle apart, she silently and he with a stuttering breath.

“I—I should go,” he mumbles, as they mutually detach. The hand that held hers flexes, barely perceptibly, at his side.

“Right,” Camilla says. “Me, too.” And then, with steadier shoulders: “I’ve a case to solve.”

#the locked tomb #camilla hect #palamedes sextus #c.docx #this one is def more romantic than the first one so if ur not down with that might want to skip

[diziaddict]

i just started watching turkish dramas a few months ago and the first one I fell in love with and watched all the way through (well the first season) was vatanim sensin....ive started a few others but often got annoyed at the characters a few episodes in especially when it's been a light hearted rom com like erkenci kus. The next one i completed was siyah beyaz ask and honestly it's one of the best shows I've ever watched...the chemistry between the two leads was so breath-taking and now I'm just worried that my standards are too high bc I've been comparing every drama i watch to it 😭 ...please can you recommend your top 5 (preferably romance/drama/historical)?

It's been a while since I've posted but med school has genuinely been a rollercoaster ride this year so sorry for the long hiatus. I recently watched Vatanim Sensin and absolutely loved it too (will definitely consider writing a review soon!) but as you all know, Siyah Beyaz Ask has my whole heart. As such, I completely agree with you when I say that it is the sole reason I have so many partially finished dizis. That dizi raised my standards so much so that I'd often get frustrated and stop watching dizis half-way through.

With regards to watching light-hearted romcom dizis, often the biggest problem is that the viewers have to be in the right mood for them. It's quite difficult to enjoy a more comic-heavy romcom dizi when you're craving some mystery or drama. As toxic as it may sound, I do enjoy a little mafia action here and there to spice up the dizi. Anyway, here are the top 5 dizis (in order of preference) that I genuinely continue rewatching to this day:

Hercai – This is one of my absolute favourite shows and one that almost managed to satisfy my post-Siya-Beyaz-Ask depression. It's the perfect mix of drama, mystery, romance and comedy. The two actors have explosive chemistry on screen and are both honestly just so pretty. It helps that every shot is beautifully planned and aesthetically pleasing. However, do keep in mind that this is a very intense dizi mainly based around 'family drama' and involves a lot of violence so the comedy is kept to a bare minimum. Now while it isn't a historical dizi, the locations and general attitudes are very conservative and traditional so there is a somewhat 'period drama' feel.

Son Yaz – This mafia drama is honestly one of the most wholesome dizis I've seen in a while. While the dizi is mainly a romantic drama, there is a light-hearted comedy aspect within every episode and the two actors have electric chemistry. However, in my opinion, what makes this show is the heartwarming father-son bond between Selim and Akgun. What I love most about this dizi is that it's very mature and doesn't conform to the common trope of 'there's no me without you'. It addresses the toxic aspects of love and isn't afraid of separating the main couple in order for Akgun and Yagmur to work on themselves before focusing on their relationship.

Sen Cal Kapimi – This is probably the most light-hearted dizi out of all these recommended dizis but the actors genuinely had amazing chemistry and looked fantastic together. Personally, Eda Yildiz is one of my favourite female leads out of all the dizis I've watched since she has the courage and confidence to stand tall independently and is never ashamed of her social/financial status. One of my least favourite characteristics is a lead that despises/is embarrassed of being 'poor' or 'uncool' but this dizi completely avoids falling into that pattern. While it does follow the 'memory loss' and 'impending death' tropes, they are never too dragged out so the dizi doesn't lose it's magic. I am a strong supporter of couples that improve one another and that is exactly what this couple does. Both Eda and Serkan, while individually seem content and (for lack of a better word) 'perfect', the audience get to peek beneath the surface to understand the deeper wounds each individual has. We get to watch them each grow and overcome their past traumas to become better versions of themselves. This dizi does involve some family drama but it's never really an integral part of the storyline.

Fazilet Hanim Ve Kizlari – This is, once again, a romantic drama centred around family drama and secrets. It is, however, honestly one of the most well-written dizis as it manages to handle creating two main love interests that somehow both seem equally likely to end up with the lead female so keeps the viewers guessing. My only qualm with dizis that involve family secrets is the numerous frustrating 'near-reveals' the writers love to include as it made certain aspects of the dizi feel overly exaggerated. In my opinion, while both Yagiz and Sinan had plenty of chemistry with Hazan, it wasn't as instantaneous or obvious as the other couples in any of the recommended dizis so it may take some time to warm up to them. However, I'm a sucker for tortured star-crossed lover storylines that end in happily ever afters so this dizi was right up my alley.

Elimi Birakma – This is a slightly more light-hearted romcom drama and centres around the topic of family inheritance. While I don't particularly like the 'miscommunication' or 'misinterpreted situation' tropes, this dizi manages to pull it off in a tasteful way. Cenk never truly steps out of line or does anything completely irreversible when he misunderstands Azra but still follows the standard sequence of patterns: distancing, arguing and being unwillingly in love. Unlike most dizis, this one highlighted the respect the couple had for each other. They were willing to respect one another's wishes and diverged from the common scenario where individuals make decisions for the couple as a whole. As a side note, one of my pet peeves is the dizi 'villains' getting away with everything until the very end (which this dizi happens to do) but that's just a personal preference.

I hope this helps you. Good luck finding the perfect fit!

#hercai #son yaz #fazilet hanim ve kizlari #elimi birakma #sen cal kapimi #ask me anything

[hjellacott]

Happy birthday Jo! (And Harry!)

Today my role-model turns 58, and The Boy Who Lived, 43.

You don't always get lucky that the people you love for subjective reasons become even better for objective reasons, but we did. I admire other authors, characters, actors, but sometimes they do things I frown upon, things I can't defend, and yet, it isn't the case with Jo. With her, I can breathe in peace knowing what she does will always be for the benefit of those who need a hero the most.

Harry was a hero for any of us who have known terrible loss, and taught us to make the best out of shit situations, to look at the bright side of things — consider your friends, choose your own family, fight for things you believe in — and to be brave and persistent, to stay true to yourself, to be selfless and kind, to be heroes of our own stories. To me, he's one of the most humane and extraordinary characters I've known, with tremendous depth, someone that is heroic not because he wants to be, not out of a deep desire of protagonism or power, or because he likes the limelight, but because he makes the best our of every difficult choice, and he tries to do the right thing. He's so deeply flawed, but always within logic (i.e. when he isolates himself from his friends because for 11 years he never had any and it's still hard to know what to do with them), and then he raises above his challenges, even the self-imposed ones.

In the Harry Potter books I found solace through a sometimes miserable childhood, again through more and more loss, and again in times of Covid. I found advice, I found the friendly words I needed, I found courage and inspiration, I found good old friends — and realised Hogwarts would, indeed, always be there when I needed it, even twenty plus years on.

Harry's story almost seems to mirror Joanne Rowling's. She knew incredible adversity and overcame it, and like Harry, she found true love, she made a family of her own, she found a place she could call home and true friends to stand beside her. And after all the success she's known, she's always giving back to us. This is a summary of some of her charitable work:

About 16% of her wealth in 2011 went to organisations fighting worldwide poverty, something that she's continued doing year after year.

Various work with Amnesty International.

The Ickabog royalties went to supporting charities that supported vulnerable groups affected by the Covid-19 pandemic.

J.K. Rowling is Founder and President of Lumos, an international children’s charity fighting for every child’s right to a family by transforming care systems around the world. Lumos sheds light on the root causes of family separation and demonstrates that children can safely be united with loving families that help them thrive.

The Anne Rowling Clinic was founded by a donation from J.K. Rowling in 2010 in memory of her mother Anne.  The Clinic delivers clinical care and research to improve the lives of people with degenerative conditions affecting the brain, as well as hosting specialist NHS clinics for these conditions.  Jo continues to fund MS research exclusively through the Anne Rowling Clinic.

J.K. Rowling's charitable trust, Volant, which she set up in 2000 to administer grants to charities, to alleviate social deprivation particularly affecting women and children.

She's also created Beira's Place, a service for victims of sexual violence, focused on women (including trans men with female sexual organs).

Additionally, substantial donations to charity in the form of book royalties.  Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them and Quidditch Through the Ages are sold in aid of Comic Relief and Lumos, and The Tales of Beedle the Bard is sold in aid of Lumos. Royalties from The Ickabog go to Volant, to help support vulnerable groups who’ve been particularly impacted by the Covid-19 pandemic, in the UK and internationally.

And then J.K. Rowling is a decorated social warrior, standing up for children, for homeless, for people who've suffered major disaster in life, and for women, doing anything and everything for us even when she meets opposition. She never gives up.

Thank you, Jo. You're my hero. Thank you for your hard work, and for the stories that will keep your memory and your activism alive, long after you're gone. Thank you for making my days so much brighter. Wishing you and Harry a wholesome day of much-deserved joy and laughter. HAPPY BIRTHDAE!!!

#j.k. rowling #j. k. rowling #joanne rowling #jo rowling #harry potter #feminism #Queen Rowling

[mirbystudios]

Sonic Frontiers review (PS5)

Sonic Frontiers may not be the most mindblowingly amazing game this year, but it is still, surprisingly, quite good. The environments are vast and beautiful, the combat is fun and can mostly be avoided if you're not feeling up to it, the story is a great mystery you're piecing together with every tidbit you're given. The voice cast is expressive, and these characters are the best they've been in years. Knuckles is no longer an idiot but instead someone who trusts Sonic as a rival and friend, and someone who is also knowledgeable about ruins and such. Tails is no longer useless unless Sonic's around but someone who is working through his self-doubt to become a better more independent person. Amy's about the same, but she hasn't had as much issue with writing in past games as the others.

There are issues, sure. Pop-in is definitely quite prevalent, and some encounters are a pain to deal with, especially on the last island where I've actively avoided several particularly annoying foes. Another issue, though it's more of a nitpick, is leveling via the Elder Koco. You have to manually pick an option one by one, and the menu here on my PS5 was also laggy, requiring around a second after it showed up to move down and select the option once more to keep leveling my Rings or Speed. The Hermit Koco just levels both Attack and Defense as much as he can at once depending on how many of those you have on you, but the Elder Koco is a menuing nightmare, especially due to the minor lag on his menu.

Aside from those issues, the music is pretty good. Exploration themes are toned down but still pretty good while basic battle themes are energetic. The Titan battle themes are all amazing, standing toe to toe with past greats such as Live & Learn quite easily.

And then there's the Cyber Space stages. I'm mentioning these separately because the game treats them separately. Your upgrades in the rest of the game don't transfer over and the physics even feel different here. The majority of them are based on layouts from past 3D Sonic titles, which is a nice homage. There's only 4 stage themes though, and 3 are ones Sonic Team has been using as a crutch for a decade now (being Green Hill, Chemical Plant, and Sky Sanctuary). These aren't that bad to go through but they even feel different to control. A fun distraction that you need to go through a few of for progression purposes, but they still feel disconnected from the design philosophies of the main game.

There's also fishing. Big's here for the first time in a long time, and he's happy to just let Sonic vibe and fish. The music here is relaxing, the gameplay for fishing is simple (select where to throw, hit the button when there's a bite, then time another press or two when the small ring is inside the larger ring). You can get a lot of items here, and it's far more connected to the main game than Cyber Space is. Each catch nets your tokens. You can get the Kocos you'd turn into the Elder Koco, seeds for Power and Defense, Memory Tokens for that Island's trapped character, and even Skill Points and Rings. There's also 24 Egg Memos to collect, which are voiced bits of lore by Eggman that give fun lore insights or tidbits about how he feels about other characters.

Speaking of story, this isn't quite a dark one but it is, as they've been saying, quite melancholy. Ian Flynn, known for his work on the comics, brings a masterful touch to this one. The characters are as well-written here as they are in the comics, and I already touched on how Knuckles and Tails really benefitted from it. Eggman feels a lot less one-dimensional villain, and Sage is a great addition. I quite enjoyed hunting down the side stories to get more tidbits about how the characters feel or things about the ruins, and even information on a greater backstory that forms the backbone of the entire plotline. There's also a lot of references to past games, which creates a great continuity that wasn't quite there before and is quite welcome. The only place the plot suffers is in the ending, which feels quite sudden and a bit rushed honestly, though I blame Sonic Team on that far more than Flynn.

I will note that there are three difficulty settings, and none of them affect the storyline. The only notable difference is Hard Mode grants you an extended (and difficult) final boss fight, and an alternate credits theme, but aside from that the ending plays out the same regardless of what difficulty you were on. That being said, Frontiers is certainly a game that lets you play how you want to. From an extensive suite of customization and accessibility options to an abundance of tokens to collect (far more than you need to max out your stats and get everything), Frontiers is a game that really shows a great start to the Open Zone formula Sonic Team wants to focus on. I'm glad they're listening to feedback because if this is the direction Sonic's going, then I'm excited to see how they improve upon this already solid base. With all this in mind, I'm giving it an 8/10.

#sonic frontiers #ps5 #sonic the hedgehog #review

[masterchef901]

We're weird here, right? Yeah? Good. Let me tell you about the fucking MAGICAL narrative journey that is the CoD Zombies story. It's weird, it's jank as hell, and by the end it has me thinking seriously on the implicit meta-narrative to it. Also, the story ends like 4 separate times.

So we begin with CoD: World at War.

"Nazi Zombies", a minigame unlocked by beating the main story, where you get to feel more justified in sinking lead into a horde than possibly anywhere else in gaming, or life for that matter. Over the course of the original maps, the devs see positive fan response and put a little effort into it. We get perks, fancy technomagic laser guns and wonder-weapons, and even some characters and lore.

That lore, by the way, is "The nazis were experimenting on mysterious rocks that turned out to turn people into zombies. Then the zombies broke out. The end." Our heroes, meanwhile, are all simple as hell. A Japanese honor-obsessed samurai, a German mad scientist, a Russian whose only desire in life is vodka, and an ultra-macho rambo-esque American with an IQ only marginally higher than that of the zombies they'll be working together to slaughter. Basically, all stereotypes, but played for that over-the-top sort of comedy enough that I'll be generous and call them 'caricatures' instead. This group would eventually come to be called "Ultimis".

Call of Duty: Black Ops

Back by popular demand, is the Zombies mode, now no longer exclusive to the nazi brand of zombie, because the story's going international. This time, our heroes are going on a tour of WWII-era conspiracy theories. Ancient Vril mysticism, Shangri-La, nazi moon bases - basically the plot of Iron Sky 2. Simple, except not really, but definitely absurd in a fun, goofy way. Notably, the loading screens and advertising also framed these maps in a sort of "comic book"-y way, to help us understand the level of narrative consistency and complexity we'd be seeing here.

(Before continuing, by the way, we also have the absolute TREAT that is the map "Five". Seriously, go watch its opening cutscene, and then imagine those characters being your friendly voices for the duration of the game)

The critical thing here is that, while WaW had some "easter eggs", they were just cute little bits and bobs. "Interact with some rocks hidden around the map, play a song", stuff like that. But Black Ops easter eggs were something else entirely. Trying to explain these feels like explaining the conspiracy theories that inspired the maps. "Go stand on the floor panels to enter Eclipse mode. Then find the four wall-dials and set them to specific values. Now use the shrink ray on a specific rock, which you must then shoot around the map until it lands on the temple." Stuff like that. And even though nobody realized it until the end, they were all connected - if you do all the easter eggs leading up to it, then the Moon egg culminates in the mad scientist character taking over the zombie horde. And then you blow up the Earth.

That's right, they decide to just go flying beyond all chance of imagining this stuff was happening on the fringes of history, it was all-along the story of an apocalypse enacted by a mad scientist and his rival engineering events against him. The End. This was the BIG moment that grabbed the attention and imagination of me and others as a kid. It took Zombies from "neat" to "COOL", and, for better and worse, secured this storyline and style as the "zombies breadwinner" for several games to come.

Side note: I don't recall exactly when they did this, but at some point Treyarch's writers realized that it's maybe a bad look to have one of the playable characters be "'German scientist who helped create the Nazi Zombies", on account of, y'know, the fact that that makes him a nazi. So at some point they did that thing where they "soft-retcon" in some audio clarifying that actually while he was always a psychopath, he was only ever in it For The Science (tm) and it was actually his rival Dr. Maxis who signed his research team on with the reich.

I'm not sure if there's a term for this sort of the thing - when writers don't really retcon in the sense of overwriting previously established facts, but use "reveals" to try and overwrite the meaning of those previously established facts. Yes, technically that's what all good reveals do, but it's also obvious in times like these that there used to be a clear understanding of the lore on both the authors' and audience's parts, which the author has since decided they don't like and want to redo. "Oops, that previous evidence/event didn't count because of contrived circumstances you knew nothing about and could not possibly have guessed."

If I sound like I'm going off on a tangent, I want to be clear - firstly, this sort of practice always frustrates me, because it makes it clear that the author is readily willing to "cheat" in the game that is the communication of a narrative, and secondly because that's secretly what this whole mega-ramble is actually about.

Black Ops 2: We Care About The Lore Now

So, Treyarch wanted to do more Zombies, and they liked the vibe they had so far, so they decide to stay in the storyline that exploded earth. The characters - now a farm girl, a nerd, a hobo, and a schizophrenic guy, all American, all came off more annoying than the "comedic" take Treyarch wanted. This group would be dubbed "Victis", and not only were these characters poorly received, but the story itself would feel aimless. How do you one-up a grand master scheme and the apocalypse? What are our survivors even doing? Treyarch has our old mad scientist and his rival acting as voices in the Victis gang's collective head to try and vie for control of the zombies, and this story would ultimately culminate in one of them (based on player choices involving arcane steps punctuated by some oddly sexual ones) winning the power struggle, and either way, some type of "the world ends again", either with the mad scientist turning the world into his plaything, or (the canon ending) the rival scientist enacting some weird arcane collapse that will let him be with his daughter. Either way, we don't revisit this world again.

I specify world because the characters will return, and even in the same game, actually.

But first - in the middle of the Victis plotline we take a brief visit to Alcatraz for an unexpectedly great zombies experience that's entirely disconnected from either of the plotlines so far. I bring this up only for completeness sake, and for a point that'll hopefully become clearer later.

Anyway, we now return to our regularly scheduled zombie programming - by which I mean, a whole new experience, Origins, featuring "modernized", more tasteful renditions of our original Ultimis team. We're introduced now to a strong-but-disciplined American soldier, a now safely WWI-era not-quite-mad German Scientist, a world-weary Russian who uses alcohol to tastefully take the edge off, and a Japanese samurai warrior who's struggling with the decaying traditional idea of "honor" in a World-War 1 setting.

This "new" (yet chronologically older) variant of the team would be dubbed "Primis".

And this time the plot has them freeing the spirit of a young girl, Samantha, daughter of Science Rival Guy Dr. Maxis who we'd just seen end the world (twice) from some weird arcane trap on the battlefield "of the Great War" so she can go to a mysterious place called "Agartha". Also, the ending cutscene shows her and "Eddie" (who appears to be a child version of our playable german scientist) to be playing with dolls and action figures of the zombies and the playable characters - implying that in fact our whole storyline thus far was "just a game", and the shift of control over the zombie hordes in the first game to Edward Richtofen was in fact just "Eddie" taking his turn playing as the zombies.

It's easy to forget for those of us who've kept up with the story since this, but I cannot overstate how confusing this entire situation was to resolve from a lore perspective. Options were:

1: As implied in the cutscene, acktually "it was all just a game". The lore that players had worked hard to uncover was all, within its own canon, a game being played by children. This was wildly unpopular, but also quite possibly the authors' intended interpretation because in a very real sense, it all WAS a game, and the lore mostly WAS made-up by players out of scraps of lore they'd found.

2: Our four protagonists had acktually all met for the first time in WWI, then again incidentally wound up together again after un-developing as characters due to Magic Rock Exposure (tm) in WWII. Somehow the little girl freed in Origins and her dad whose brain got put in a drone during that process both get put back into their bodies, I guess.

3: It's all a parallel universe with its own separate continuity; the little girl and Eddie believe they're just playing games with toys when in reality they've been shipped off to copyright-safe-Heaven and "games with toys" is how they cope with the trauma of their zombie-filled lives.

BLACK OPS 3: MORE

So, Treyarch picks option 3. Makes sense, it keeps us gamers feeling like our investment was in something worthwhile and not arbitrarily patched together, while also allowing them some more narrative liberty. Easy, right?

WRONG

Rather than just roll with "We're doing zombies again in a newer, cleaner universe", they have to tie everything up ALL together. Our new plotline is that ACTHSDHALY the zombie-rocks came from a bunch of eldritch tentacle-creatures called Apothicons from super-hell. We meet Dr. Monty, who's basically like if Willy Wonka was actually secretly God who's trying to get the kids safe and sound up in heaven and the now eldritch-based zombies sealed back away.

We follow Team Primis as they go back into our first universe to harvest the souls of Team Ultimis (so, their own original souls) which will somehow allow them to go to I-can't-believe-it's-not-Heaven too. They go there, shit accidentally goes wrong when eldritch-satan breaks out, but the gang beats him up with guns and Monty is able to re-establish his perfect world.

Except, uh, he tried to delete the Primis crew while he was it it, but don't worry, that random moment in Alcatraz earlier was act[coughing fit]ally super-duper important and drinking the blood of those prisoners let out heroes survive! BUT ACTASKFHALY THIS WAS MONTY'S PLAN ALL ALONG and he teleports them back in time to fight in-

oh right so "the great war" from origins wasn't in reference to WWI, it was

actually

the site of The Great War between humanity and the apothicons, and Monty time-travels the crew back then to be the heroes of legend that set up Origins to happen, creating a time loop. Characters are, this whole time, saying "the paradox must be resolved" without ever explaining what it is.

But yeah anyway the whole ride this game leads to a big "it was all a time loop" cycle deal, and also the tone has slowly shifted from BO1 comic-style to something that feels more like an "Avengers"-style quiptacular with MORE budget, MORE stakes, MORE lore that actually isn't a good thing because the more lore they pile on the more twisted and absurd the story has to get and also it occurs to me that "going avengers" actually is kinda the natural conclusion to "being like comic books".

BLACK OPS 4: BUT WAIT THERE'S FOUR

So at this point, Treyarch and Activision in general are spending more focus on trying to figure out a new angle to Zombies, but nothing takes off. Infinity Ward's "Zombies in Spaceland" was a whiff, Cod:WW2's "reboot" of Nazi Zombies didn't stick, and their new "Chaos" storyline featuring mixed-religious lore was also met with lukewarm-to-poor response (sidenote here: now that we're in a proper era where it's common practice to ask "What if Ra punched Odin in the face while Ares watches" we really should establish a term for it, like "Mixed-Religious Combat" following the form of "Mixed Martial Arts).

SO They felt some pressure to go back once more to the cash cow what is their absolute mess of an "original" zombies story, now termed the "Aether" arc. They don't have many maps left to develop this but that doesn't stop them from opening the story again, and this time the writers have fucking HAD IT with this story so they decide it's time to fucking END it.

Here's your finale: Victis crew (the all-american team nobody liked) are back, slightly better written this time, on the map that had gone the longest without a remake (notably, in keeping with modern media practice, every zombies map from from the Ultimis-Primis plotline had been remade at least once by now), and they make a macguffin.

Then Primis Nikolai (the russian guy) uses it to wish a new, zombie-free universe into existence and sends the kids away into it.

Also he poisons and kills all of Ultimis and Primis. Then has the kids shoot him. THE ADULTS ARE ALL DEAD NOW AND THEY GOT BANISHED TO SUPERHELL WITH THEIR MULTIVERSE THE END. Nikolai gives us some lore mumbo jumbo about how the arcano-babble and the eldritch-babble had done some techno-babble that "bound the team's destiny forever to the apothicon menace", so that the only way a universe could ever be free of zombies would be for him and his friends to all die.

And the thing is, he's right. Because if you've followed this far, you're probably seeing a pattern: People like these characters, even in their worst-written moments, and Activision isn't going to just let that go unmilked. As long as there is any possible way for these characters to return, they'll be brought back and the lore is going to be held and gunpoint and forced to cook up a reason for them to be there shooting zombies. So the only possible way to let this tortured, tangled mess of a plot finally reach an actual ending is to kill its protagonists - and not just kill them, but write them off so conclusively that there's no chance of resurrection, no more alternate universes containing them, NOTHING. THEY ARE GONE. And true to the Homestuck-ass law that was inspired by this exact effect, the only way death can stick from a narrative sense is if everyone's death is either a Just end or a Heroic sacrifice to nobly ensure a better life For the Kids.

Samantha and Eddie (at this point nobody asks why Eddie even exists or what timeline these kids are from) are finally safe. The end.

COD COLD WAR THE STORY KEEPS GOING

As if to prove my point, Cold War Zombies picks up with a new set of protagonists... and an easter egg featuring the return of Samantha, now slightly more grown up, I guess, and also with superpowers? And then she flies around a bit, before finally heroically sacrificing herself out of the story for good. Eddie - now a full adult Edward Richtofen once more - is a "big reveal" in a cutscene afterwards, confirming that, in fact, there will be no peace fucking ever until every last character from this beautiful, twisted plot is gone.

EPILOGUE

And I want to be clear, it is beautiful. I wouldn't have followed it this far or spent two hours learning just how much I have to type about it if I didn't love every second of it, especially the seconds spent hating on it. I could, and probably eventually will write another essay at some point on how fucking much I love jank-ass "broken" things like this.

But for now, I hope y'all see my points here. It's this weird case you see happen every now and then where people just fall in love with their characters, and won't ever let go. Certainly doesn't help that the authors of those characters can't figure out how to write anyone else decently, but this is just one of many franchises I've seen where the unwillingness to let go of a fan-favorite leaves the plot tied in knots as it constantly has to try and present a NEW BIGGEST THREAT EVER that becomes a BIG DRAMATIC CONCLUSIVE FINALE that then needs even bigger contrivances to bring the favorites back.

It's done a fucking number on Halo's story, which is impressive because a lot of halo's core fans never even really consider that it has one. It's hard for me to talk about Halo here without thinking to myself "STOP TALKING ABOUT JOHN"

Same deal with Marvel, same with Homestuck, same deal in a lot of cases that I'm sure you're aware of too.

So as my closing thought and my reward to you for reading this far, here's some homework! What the fuck do you call these problems? What do you call it when lore starts to go sour because it's spent too long being about the same thing? What do you call it when fan demand forces writers to rethink their endings repeatedly? What do you call it when writers "cheat" their way around prior writing, re-contextualizing everything so much that it's hard to actually believe anything they say anymore and we're just left to sigh and feel odd relief when they say "Somehow Palpatine has returned" without further explanation because at least that means ONLY the ending of the original trilogy has its weight retroactively worsened?

#zombies #cod #call of duty #narrative analysis #overanalysis #idk #rule #i guess #ramble #rambles #E #this became about #media #like media in general I guess #thank you for reading

[my-mt-heart]

TWD 11x09 “No Other Way” Review

And so once again, our ship is saved thanks to…CONTEXT! I’m going to get into the specifics of the *dreaded* reunion further down, but I just wanted to say up top that if you were concerned it would tread too closely to familiar territory, don’t be. Terminus it is not, my friends. Not at all. As it turns out though, there is a lot more ground to cover in this episode than that ten second shot, including a very subtle Caryl moment that I caught, so here we go. 

The reviewers weren’t wrong about the amount of action. There’s a lot of fast-paced intercutting between Reaper and walker battling and it’s almost dizzying. The gore and the suspense were definitely overhyped (like certain other things). To me, the scenes played out like a live-action comic book, cheesy dialogue and convenient time cuts included. Not my cup of tea, but that’s okay. I’m in it for the characters anyway.

As we already know, Daryl will seize any opportunity he can to try to save someone to the detriment of his own self worth if he fails, but right off the bat, he seems to be coming around to the idea that Leah is a losing battle. When he suggests using Carver as a bargaining chip (how did ninja Carver lose that fight?), Maggie even asks him if he’s “doing this for her,” and he says, sounding sincere, that he’s doing it for their family because it’s the only way they get out alive. Unlike Maggie or Leah, Daryl has reached an understanding that survival doesn’t always have to mean killing each other and offers Leah and the three or four other Reapers still breathing (the rest either got blown up or stabbed to death in very comical ways) the chance to head north and to never be seen again. Leah’s not budging, still maintaining that “whatever it takes” attitude and orders a sniper to kill Maggie and co, but the episode’s MVP, Gabriel, turns the tables on her when he kills the sniper and threatens to shoot the remaining Reapers. 

Both groups renegotiate with the intention of letting each other go their separate ways. A very injured Elijah doesn’t like this because he wants revenge on Carver, who is in fact the one who killed his sister. Maggie doesn’t like this either, unable to forget what the Reapers had taken away from her, so she shoots them all down while the entire time, Negan remains a casual observer to a hilarious degree. The only one who survives is Leah, and Daryl basically sentences her to a life of solitude, telling her she could’ve had a second chance. The sentiment is very close to what he’s said to Carol multiple times about starting over, and there’s a juxtaposition to be made between Leah's refusal to do so and Carol’s increasing determination to do so, which Daryl is bound to pick up on if he hasn’t already.   

I know many were eager for Leah to just be killed off, the sooner the better. Personally, I’m of two minds. On one hand, I think it’s laughable that Kang rarely kills off characters even when the number of characters to service continues to rise. A highly controversial character like Leah should theoretically lead to major payoff, but so far she (and the entire Reaper arc in general) have mostly just fallen flat and as it stands, I’m wary of how much she can contribute to the story moving forward aside from seeking vengeance for her family. Pause. Let’s take a beat to digest that. Who else nearly lost themselves trying to get revenge on someone who took their family away? These juxtapositions are juicy as hell to me, but are they worth the limited screen time at this point? That’s the question. 

Now the reason I’m not mad about Leah being alive is that as long as she is, there is still a chance to make up for what’s missing. It’s no secret that I want Leah to meet Carol. They both share a strong connection to Daryl, which is reason enough for them to cross paths at some point, but the similarities (and differences) highlighted between them present an opportunity for them to learn a lot about themselves, much like looking in a mirror. That is my humble opinion on the matter. That will always be my opinion. I’m fully aware of the likelihood that they’re going to shift focus to a Maggie and Leah rivalry instead, which as I’ve said before is far less interesting given their lack of personal history.

Maggie has a really powerful scene in the church where she finds Alden’s walker and breaks down crying, but other than that I find myself frustrated with the direction of her character and that’s really hard for me to say because I do love Maggie. I’ve always been and always will be Team Maggie when it comes to the conflict between her and Negan, which has unfortunately been wishy washy the whole season.  Not that I think there was ever a chance for much resolution between them, but for Negan to just end up exiling himself, landing in the same position as we saw him in the bonus episodes, I’m just struggling to see the point of it all. What have we gained from it? What have we gained from watching Maggie carry out her vendetta against the Reapers? I understand the show is trying to do right by Lauren Cohan and wrap up what is presumably her last arc in a big way. I understand that means Maggie has to be a big presence. What I don’t understand is why Kang and co want to resort to making her ruthless/reckless, especially after seeing it backfire so hard with Carol, Michonne, and Daryl to a lesser degree (because men’s actions are easier to forgive I say sarcastically). What I also don’t understand is why supersizing Maggie’s role has to mean minimizing Carol’s. 

My biggest criticism of this episode and the whole season so far is that Carol has barely had any significant screen time.  She had a few lines to Aaron during the rain storm, but nothing memorable whatsoever. I don’t need her to be the badass hero every time. I’d gladly take a good heart-to-heart if it means helping her move past certain emotional obstacles. A conversation between her and Connie about what happened in the cave is the first thing that comes to mind. To clarify, I’m happy other characters are getting their time to shine. I’m happy to see Connie and Kelly tell each other to stay safe to showcase their unbreakable bond, I’m happy Judith gets to have her own adventure without being in the shadow of one of the adults, I’m happy Aaron gets to be super dad, rescue Judith and Gracie, and tell Lydia that he would do the same for her. But if Daryl’s not taking a back seat until he rides off into the sunset, neither should Carol. I want to sit in her perspective while she’s supposedly experiencing personal growth the same way we get to with Daryl. 

After all the action winds down, Daryl confides in Gabriel that he’s been wondering if choices even matter and Gabriel, who’s own struggles are depicted through the Reaper priest acting as his mirror image, advises Daryl to just have faith. I think this represents a small turning point for Daryl, who has always carried the weight of the world on his shoulders and is now realizing that not everything is in his control. There was never anything he could do for Leah, and that’s okay because life has given him something much better. 

It’s curious that right off a shot of Daryl by the fire, we transition to Carol who is peering over Alexandria’s walls, just staring off into the distance. I can’t help but wonder if this is hinting she might be thinking about Daryl, just as he may have been thinking about her. Obviously she has good Daryl radar because moments later, there he appears with Dog, the others following behind him with a cart full of food. 

Daryl immediately seems really happy to be back in Alexandria and I think it’s worth noting that Judith, RJ, Lydia, and Carol are the first wave of people to greet him, representing the family he’s been blessed with due to circumstances outside of his control. Yes, his hug with Carol feels brief and undercuts where they started at the beginning of the season, but I think this could be because Daryl is heeding Gabriel’s advice, having faith that he and Carol are strong enough to get through anything together. Of course I would have liked to see more after waiting patiently all this time, but I don’t believe Angela Kang is neglecting Caryl necessarily. She tends to place emotional conversations where they count the most and she may have thought placing one here, since it’s too early for canon, would retread what we saw in 10x16. Do I think it’s absurd that their emotional breakthroughs with each other can’t be interspersed or built upon? Do I think Kang is overestimating the power of silent communication? Yes and yes. I absolutely do. Don’t get me wrong. The only point I’m trying to make is that just because the gratification doesn’t come here, doesn’t mean it’ll never come. 

Meanwhile, the Daryl and Connie reunion feels like a more timely emotional beat to hit because it’s probably going to launch Daryl and Carol (yes, Caryl) into their next phase of conflict i.e. Carol assuming Daryl would be better off with Connie romantically. As for the tone of it, the same score playing over the simultaneous family reunions continues here, emphasizing joy and relief on top of the joy and relief Daryl is already charged with. The “run” is more of a short hop/skip, there’s no nuzzling, there’s no lifting anyone off their feet. It reads very platonic to me, especially Connie’s bro punch to Daryl’s chest. 

The camera does pan over to Carol who is smiling, observing Daryl’s happiness from the sidelines. Not a literal POV shot, but the intent is still to give us Carol's POV, which I think is twofold. For one thing, it shows that Carol no longer has to carry the burden of potentially killing someone’s sister and friend. Better yet, it reinforces that anything between Daryl and Connie she may later claim to be romantic is a product of her own imagination. From an outsider’s perspective, it looks completely innocent. No other character beside Carol is even watching. Not even Dog, who is busy eating an apple. 

Some will undoubtedly interpret Carol’s smile as an absence of jealousy and therefore a lack of romantic feelings for Daryl, but here’s the thing. Carol’s love for Daryl – yes that love – is so strong, she is compelled to place his happiness above all else. Just like Daryl had done when she told him she was marrying Ezekiel. But unlike Daryl who felt “saudade,” Carol doesn’t feel like she’s suffering a personal loss because she’s convinced herself Daryl has never been nor ever can be hers to lose (in that way). Part of Carol’s journey is finding her worth again, and in many ways she is starting to do so on her own, but when it comes to Daryl specifically, I think he himself will have to set her straight, and I think it’s going to come as a big shock to Carol (and the audience!!) while she’s still expecting him to move forward with Connie. I have a lot more to say about that, about Carol’s headspace, and how it all ties into hers and Daryl’s story at the Commonwealth, but it’s probably best to save it for episode 10 (assuming it still makes sense after I see the episode). One last thing to mention is that while Eugene and Lance are doing their spiel, we see Dog sitting close to Carol, and in my head, it’s because he missed her most of all. 

Overall, I found this episode to be particularly anticlimactic and am curious to see how things shake out at the Commonwealth. We are indeed getting a Caryl scene per the episode trailer so there’s that. I’ll admit, I’m a little nervous to be confined to this new environment because of how starkly different it is from the ZA world I fell in love with, but we’ll see. We got a glimpse of Daryl’s and Maggie’s opposing philosophies while dealing with the Reapers and it seems they are the two close friends who are going to be facing off with each other (while Daryl proceeds to look silly in his armor). To sum up my feelings about this possible conflict…meh. I’m assuming it’s probably not what it looks like. Also, it just further positions Daryl and Maggie as the two biggest protagonists, which irks me. 

Welp. We weathered the first storm, babes. Seven more to go. (Wow I’m pretty sure watching my favorite show is not supposed to feel like this.)

#caryl #twd #twd review #twd season 11 #twd no other way #twd spoilers #caryl positivity #caryl is endgame

[wearywinchester]

Found

Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: When the outcome of a hunt is less than ideal, Dean’s there to make it better.

Requested by Anonymous: “Would you be able to write a Dean x reader fic in which they get separated during a hunt and he finds her stabbed and bleeding in the basement?? Maybe she's passed out??”

Word Count: 2.9k

Warnings: angst, injury, blood, fluff

You were quiet as you walked along the dirt path, dampened from the earlier drizzle. Dean’s hand was heavy in yours as he held it tightly, tugging you closer to his side the moment he’d felt you’d strayed too far away or walked too far behind. His mood was evident, clear in the way his jaw stayed locked in its tension and clearer in the way his cheeks were flushed a pale tinge of pink. He was angry, he was worried, he was scared.

He may have felt better now that you were with him again, that you were standing on your own two feet, but that fear still lingered there in waves each time he thought about what could have happened.

He knows he shouldn’t think like that, he knows it’s not good for him to dwell on things that could have happened instead of keeping his attention on what really did. Because you were here and you were alive and that was all he needed but still, that thought stuck stubbornly in his head and plastered itself in the forefront of his mind, having his stomach a mess of knots that wouldn’t let him forget it.

Your shoulder ached, numbing and throbbing partially from the torn fabric Dean had tied tightly around it to stop it from bleeding anymore than it already had. At least until he could handle it properly.

“You okay, sweetheart?” He asks, quiet and soft as he casts his gaze down at you.

You simply nod as you set your eyes on the ground, on your boots and his as you walk along towards the car. You can hear the underlying anger in his voice no matter how soft, anger that isn’t entirely directed at you but it was very much there and you heard it, heard the vulnerability mixed in there too.

He just hums, tugging you a bit closer to his side once more when the path narrows some, hand warm and calloused around yours. You feel the press of his lips on the top of your head as you walk, something that would never go unnoticed and something he’d always do no matter how upset he may have been with you.

He was upset and rightfully so.

In your life as a hunter, there were a lot of uncertainties in everything, and there was never a hunt you’d been on where everything went as expected. Never a hunt where something hadn’t gone wrong no matter how big or small it’d been. There was always something in every hunt that reminded you to keep your guard up, that reminded you to expect a change in plans and to prepare yourself for the very worst.

But even with that being said, you can’t be perfect every time, no matter how prepared you are.

It wasn’t uncommon for you to get separated, even on the easiest of hunts. But it was always something that bothered Dean, always something that had him nearly pushed over the edge each and every time it did happen. Because every time you get split up it makes him less happy with the idea of you hunting in the first place. It only adds to his incessant worry simmering in his stomach over the fact that he knows you won’t ever quit, not for a long while.

The mere thought of what could happen to you every time the three of you get in that Impala for a new case is something that makes his stomach twist into knots and churn. It doesn’t matter if it happened every time or just once in a blue moon, regardless of that it happens way more often than he’d like it too.

And it happened again.

You’d gotten separated back there, and the cause wasn’t lost on you. You were hunting a rogue pack of werewolves, there were just two of them left after the other had been snagged by another hunter. You’d heard one of them in the near vicinity, something Sam or Dean didn’t take notice to. Maybe it was a trap, surely it was—it wouldn’t be the first time you’d been outsmarted by a monster but you always came out on top in the end.

Regardless, you found yourself taking off in the direction of the noise, never having been one to do anything but throw caution to the wind. When you thought back on it now that you were in your current predicament, it wasn’t your smartest decision, not even close because it turns out it very much was a trap, one put together by a more than frightened werewolf.

They must not have been turned for very long, he couldn’t have been. You could tell by the way he acted, on edge as something akin to fear danced across his expression. You could see the way his nerves had wrapped around every move he made, and you could see his hesitancy before fleeing and giving in to the temptations one would have as a werewolf.

But you’d been alone, alone in a basement with a werewolf plenty stronger than you and your blade. You didn’t even try and compare your strength, knew it was comical to even think you had a fair chance. You gave it your all and put up a good fight, but you found yourself stuck in a vulnerable position when he’d knocked the knife right out of your hand.

He could see the fear flicker in your eyes just as much as you could see the very same in his, but you didn’t let that stop you in that moment. Not as you gave it another shot. In your own stupidity you took another shot.

He may have been riddled with nerves but his adrenaline seemed to outshine that by a million miles, taking the knife gripped tightly in his hand and taking a swing at you in his own self defense. Your yelp was unmistakable when the blade pierced your skin, sharp and unforgiving as it jammed into your shoulder without pause. Your agony was unmistakable as he looked in your eyes, panic sinking in the golden yellow of his own as he yanked it back out.

His panic was clear as day as he’d looked between you and the bloodied knife in his hand, chest heaving as that adrenaline continued to pulse through him. You could see that fear, the fear of the two angry hunters who’d surely come to look for you without an ounce of doubt. One especially furious hunter who’d take him out without a beat of hesitation.

He looked at you, at your widened eyes and startled expression before he dropped that blade with a seemingly deafening clatter, watching your face scrunch and contort in pain for a moment longer before he ran off in a hurried escape, leaving you alone.

You were left to fend for yourself in that basement should he choose to come back, left to double over in pain and sink to sit on the concrete floor. The injury wasn’t severe, it could have been far worse and you knew that. But the pain was still much more unbearable than you’d hoped for and that was what had stolen your attention. That and the sight of the blood on your palm when you pulled it away from your shoulder was enough to have nausea simmering and bubbling in your stomach.

You knew it wasn’t good when you felt yourself breakout into a sweat, your ears ringing. It was all there, all telling that you were about to pass out until you’d gone and done it.

That’s how Dean found you, slumped against the wall by yourself as a more than noticeable stain sat against your shoulder.

Now here you were, back with a less than thrilled Dean Winchester and Sam who’d kept quiet despite how relieved he was that you were okay.

The only sound was the occasional clear of a throat and the snapping of twigs and crunching of leaves under tired and stomping footfalls. You noticed the way Dean glanced down at you every so often with all the concern in the world in his eyes, and you noticed the dimples by the corners of his mouth as he pursed his lips.

Despite that, you still felt the brush of his thumb across your knuckles as your fingers curled around the back of his hand. It was a tender action, one that comforted you more than you’d admit.

He opened the door for you as you got to the car, wanting you to sit up front with him this time. After that, he found that even having you in the backseat was farther than he’d like you to be even if there was no longer a threat for you to be separated any more.

It was quiet the whole way back to the motel—no classic rock on the radio, no nothing. The tension wasn’t quite as bad as you’d expected, not really. But it was quiet save for the rumble of the engine and the tapping of Dean’s thumbs on the wheel. The occasional clear of Sam’s throat and the grumble falling from Dean’s lips when someone cut him off.

He snagged your bag from you before you could carry it yourself, slinging it over his shoulder as he helped you out. The two of you went off into your room as Sam disappeared into his with a mumble of a good night, locking the doors behind you.

The first thing you did was kick off your boots as Dean shrugged off his jacket, lips pursed once more for a brief moment.

“Let me take a look at that,” he says, a sigh leaving your lips and a look tossed his way as you wander to the motel bathroom.

The lighting was less than flattering as you turned on the light, Dean coming in behind you after having snagged his first aid kit from his duffel. He set it down in favor of bringing his hands up to the dirtied fabric tied around your shoulder, loosening the knot he’d tied before unraveling it completely.

That pressure had fallen away now that it was gone, that pressure that relieved some of the pain and now it started to seep back in as you scrunch your nose. The look on his face was less than pleased as he looked at your exposed shoulder, blood smeared on your skin and half dried.

You saw his frown and you saw the crease between his brows deepen, saw the anger simmering as he bit the inside of his lip.

“He’s lucky Sam found him first,” he mumbled, angry as he flipped open the lid to the kit.

He was careful as he wiped away the dirt and blood, pausing whenever you winced and lightening his touch every time.

“I’ve had worse,” you say softly, an attempt to make him feel better though it only made it worse.

“You were stabbed, Y/n,” he says, irritation in his words as he puffs a huff through his nose, nostrils flared. “You’re bleeding and it could have been a hell of a lot worse.”

“Well, it’s not,” you say, and your nonchalance has him less than pleased as he grabs a half used roll of gauze to wrap around your shoulder.

“Y/n, you passed out from the freakin’ thing and you still look like you might do it again. So stop acting like it wasn’t a big deal ‘cause it damn sure is to me,” he says, voice raising a fraction as his cheeks tinge pink once more his movements with your shoulder still ever so gentle despite it.

“I passed out because I saw the blood, Dean,” you try to reason, tone on the cusp of annoyance as you feed off of his anger.

He shakes his head as he looks away, his hand dragging down his face and over his mouth, lingering there for just a few moments. He clears his throat as his tongue swipes over his lips, jaw tensing when you brush past him out of the small bathroom and into the main area.

His gaze followed after you as you rifled through your bag in favor of more comfortable clothes, changing out of your jeans. You winced uncomfortably at the raise of your arm, immediately regretting it as a yelp leaves your lips.

He’s quick to stand at your side as he helps you take your dirtied shirt off, digging around in his bag and snagging a t-shirt of his. He always brings extra, he knows you like them far more than your own pajamas, knows they bring you a little more comfort.

“Could have asked for help, you know,” he says, brows still furrowed as he helps you put it on in a way that is far less painful than your stubborn actions.

“I’m fine,” you murmur, two words he knows is a lie and it has him huffing as you disappear into the bathroom.

You see the scrape across your cheek when you look in the mirror, can see just how tired you looked and you could see just how much it took out of you. You still felt faint, still looked like you could go for a round two with passing out. There was no hiding that, no way around it no matter how many times you told him you were fine. They were just words to him in moments like this, words he took with a grain of salt and rarely ever believed to be true when you spoke them.

Not when this kind of thing happens.

You sigh as you grab a washcloth, turning on the faucet and dampening it under the tap. You brush it along your cheek, wiping it clean of the dirt and debris before dragging the cold fabric across the rest of your face. It made your cheek look a little better, a little less scraped but it was still there, no matter how faint it’d been.

You draped it over the counter and switched off the light with a sigh, stepping back into the room. Dean had been in a change of clothes, sat against the headboard with the blankets splayed over his lap. His look was brooding and displeased as he flipped through the channels on the motel tv, and you saw the way he bit the inside of his cheek.

You’re quiet as you look at him for a moment, as you wait a beat before climbing into bed, tucking yourself into his side. He doesn’t react for a second, brief before he relaxes with a heavy sigh and tugs you all the more closer. He doesn’t care that he’s angry and doesn’t care that he’s frustrated, he’ll never push you away in moments like this.

It’s quiet for a few minutes, the kind of quiet that isn’t uncomfortable like it had been earlier as your head rests on his shoulders. You merely hear the sound of the tv, the sound of his breathing as his heartbeat presses against your palm from where your hand rests over his chest.

It’s after a few moments that you lift your head once more and look at him, your gaze softer than before as it bounces across his face. Soon after, he’s turning his head, meeting your gaze and it has you biting your cheek for a moment. Just a moment before you lean up and pressed a kiss to his stubbled cheek.

When you pull back you see the corner of his mouth quirks up just slightly, you see that crease between his brows smooth out just a little more. You see him settle down. You give him one more for good measure, lips lingering over his cheek.

“Thank you,” you whisper, forehead pressing to his temple. You can see his confusion when he pulls back, pulls back in favor of pressing his forehead to yours. “You always come ‘n find me. You’re always there.”

You hear the softness of his chuckle, you feel it brush over your mouth as he presses a soft kiss to your lips, moving upwards and pressing to your forehead before he looks at you once more.

His gaze lingers on you for a moment before he brings his hand up to your cheek, the pad of his thumb brushing along that scrape you’ve got there. You can see he’s unhappy about it, can see the unease dancing across his face as he swallows thickly at the mere thought of it. But he looks at you, looks in your eyes with a certain fondness, a certain softness in his gaze for a moment more before he drops his hand and tucks you under his chin.

“You don’t have to thank me, sweetheart,” he says, words quiet as he kisses the top of your head.

He’d do it in a heartbeat, he always will.

Your smile is soft as you brush your thumb over his knuckles, nodding lightly against his chest. “Just try not to go runnin’ off like that.”

You laugh softly, looking up at him once more. You lean up and kiss him, tender as his freckled nose bumps yours.

“I love you,” you murmur, soft against his lips before you lay back against his chest.

He’s quiet for a moment as he lets out a breath, smiling to himself.

“I love you too, sweetheart,” he whispers.

He knows you’re too stubborn for your own good, too independent. He knows you’ll wind up doing the same thing because that’s what you always do. It scares the life out of him but he’ll always be there.

—

Tags: @flamencodiva @stixnstripesworld @elegantbutedgy @humanmistakes @agalliasi @campingmonkey @deandaydreaming @akshi8278 @kidd3ath @taikawho @lanea-1

#dean winchester #dean winchester angst #dean winchester oneshot #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester fluff #dean winchester imagine #dean winchester fanfiction #dean winchester x you #dean winchester fic

[honeypiehotchner]

Looking Too Closely (Bucky x Stark!Fem!Reader) -- part one

I know, I know. I just finished a 100k fic about Aaron Hotchner, I have another fic for him coming in May, and yet here I am, writing a Bucky Barnes fic. The Falcon and The Winter Soldier has done things to me, guys. I knew I was going to fall right back in love with Bucky and I totally did. So here’s this xx.

(Also, as for the timeline, don’t question it. I’m kind of imagining this on its own separate timeline, but I’ll pull details from everywhere)

Summary: You’re (possibly) Tony Stark’s daughter. You’re also (possibly) on the run from the law. What better place to show up than the Avengers Tower? [Oh and no Bucky in this one! He comes in part 2]

Warnings: angst, mentions of death (your mom), mentions of homelessness, Tony is kinda an asshole (but I still think it’s in character)

BUCKY BARNES MASTERLIST 

You weren’t going to come here.

It was a last-resort kind of option. A I-don’t-want-to-sleep-on-a-park-bench-(again) option. An is-going-to-jail-really-better-than-just-knocking-on-a-door? Kind of option.

Turns out, knocking on a door is better than going to jail. Especially when Tony Stark’s shocked face is almost as comical as your mom’s.

Currently, you’re soaking wet (damn skies decided to open up before you could get to the Tower) and sitting in Tony’s office while he paces and talks on the phone.

“Pepper, honey, I know this is bad timing, but I need you to pick up, okay? I have a kid here— Okay, she’s glaring at me, so not a kid— No, you know what? She is a kid and she’s getting water everywhere and she says she’s my kid and I’m two seconds from going into crisis mode.”

You and me both, you think to yourself. If you knew Tony was this much of a drama queen, you would’ve just gone to the police station. It was closer, anyway. Damn.

Tony ends the voicemail (which is his fifth one, you believe) and spins around to face you, a nervous smile on his lips. “Okay. How old are you again?”

“19,” you repeat tiredly. It was one of the first questions he asked you. “And I don’t actually know if I’m really your kid, okay? My mom says you are, but I don’t know.”

“Where is your mom?” His eyebrows raise like he’s brilliant and has found a way out. “Can you call her?”

“I don’t have a phone, but even if I did, no, I can’t,” you pause, rolling your eyes at his confusion. “She’s dead, Tony. She passed away last month.”

His confusion settles into shock. “Oh.”

“Oh is right,” you chuckle, ignoring your teeth chattering. “And trust me, I wouldn’t be here if I had literally anywhere else I could go.”

Tony opens his mouth to reply, but is cut off by his phone. He hurriedly answers and returns to pacing. “Pepper! Hi!— Okay, slow down, yes I’m telling the truth! Why would I lie— Okay, that was one time. Listen, this time, I’m not lying.” Pause. “Yes, there really is a kid here. You’re serious? Okay, fine, hang on.”

You watch as Tony starts a video call, and then turns the phone around on you.

Pepper Potts’s eyes widen when she sees you staring back at her, a cold and shivering mess.

“Um, hi?” Your voice is small and wary.

“Shit,” Pepper replies, and Tony turns the phone back on his face.

“See? Not lying.”

“For God’s sake, Tony!” Pepper yells. “Get the poor girl some dry clothes! I’ll be there as soon as I can, but try not to freeze her to death before I can get there. Christ.” The call ends.

You muffle a giggle in your hand, looking up to find a tired stare from Tony. Your laughter ends and you mirror his expression. “I told you dude, if I had literally anywhere else I could go, I’d be there.”

“Homeless shelter?” Tony questions.

“A homeless shelter in New York? You mean a breeding ground for disease and sexual assault?”

Your blunt reply has Tony faltering, but he accepts it. “Right. Let’s just— Let’s get you into something dry and warm and maybe get some food in you.” His eyes graze over your form. “When was the last time you ate?”

“Do you really want to ask me that?”

He thinks it over, and nods. “Never mind. Follow me.”

You stand and follow him, leaving a trail of water wherever you step.

He grimaces, pausing in his steps to say, “FRIDAY, will you dry the floors in here before I get back?”

“Who the hell are you talking to—”

Your question is promptly cut off by a female voice answering Tony. “Yes, Mr. Stark.” The voice echoes all around and sounds human, but distinctly sounds like it isn’t.

“What the fuck was that?”

“FRIDAY,” Tony replies. “Stands for ‘Female Replacement Intelligent Digital Assistant Youth’. A mouthful, I know, so I just call her FRIDAY. She’s my AI and she’s all over this building.”

“She— Never mind,” you shake your head. “Cool. Weird, but cool. I guess.”

Tony smiles, but then continues walking, exiting his office.

You follow closely behind, trying not to get too distracted by everything you’re seeing. All you saw on the way up here was the lobby, the elevator, and then right into Tony’s office. Now, you’re seeing out glass windows and down into the rest of the Tower. You have a clean view into what looks like a lab, and you see a few people working in there, but they’re too focused to even bother looking elsewhere.

After stepping into the elevator with you, Tony says, “Wanda should have some extra clothes you can borrow and if not she can at least help you...find some.”

He eyes you like he doesn’t quite know what to do with you, which you think is remarkably humbling of him. Part of you expected (what with all the stories you’ve heard and read about him) that he would act like he knew exactly what to do — regardless of whether it was right.

Maybe he will act that way later, but right now he almost seems frightened, and it’s weirdly comforting.

“Wanda is one of the…” Tony pauses. “You know where we are, right?”

You raise one eyebrow. “You mean do I know this is the Avengers Tower and that the Avengers are real people?”

“Yes…”

“Then yes.”

“Okay,” Tony says, straightening and composing himself once more. “Wanda is one of the Avengers.”

“I know.”

Tony hesitates, and the elevator is still going. “You’re not some crazy fan, right?”

“Dude, I told you. If I had anywhere else to be, I would’ve gone there.” You shrug. “Yeah, it’s cool or whatever, but I’m not going to faint.”

“Good to know,” he says, though you faintly hear him mutter, “cool or whatever,” to himself.

Finally, the elevator stops and the doors open to a new floor, one that you quickly realize is what can be described as the residential area for the Avengers. Their rooms are on this floor, along with a kitchen and a living area of sorts — both of which are empty right now.

Tony notices you looking around and says, “Most everyone is out on a mission right now, so it’s just me and Wanda around.”

“Okay,” you say.

Tony takes you down a hall and around a corner, and stops at a door. He knocks a couple times and then says, “Hey Wan, it’s me and I have a...an issue that I need your help with.”

The door opens a moment later to reveal Wanda Maximoff, a younger woman closer to your age wearing a confused expression. “An issue?” She questions, and then her eyes land on you. “Oh, hi.”

“Hey,” you offer a small smile. “I’m Y/N.”

“I’m Wanda,” she replies, offering a smile in return. But when she looks at Tony, it drops. “What did you do?”

“Why does everyone always assume that I’ve done something?”

“Because when have you not done something?”

Tony pauses. “Fair point. Look, the kid needs some clothes, and I figured borrowing something old of yours would be more comfortable than Avengers workout gear.”

Wanda seems surprised Tony even thought of that. “Of course,” she looks at you. “You can take a shower to warm up, if you want. But I definitely have some clothes you can borrow.”

“Thanks.”

“Just uh…” Tony pauses, waving around like the words will appear in thin air. “Bring her to the kitchen when she’s done.”

“Standing right here,” you mutter, earning a laugh from Wanda.

“Go away,” she waves at Tony. “I’ve got this.”

Tony walks away, clearly elated to be rid of you and have you in the hands of a responsible adult that is not himself.

Wanda shuts her door with a roll of her eyes. “Sometimes I wonder how Pepper keeps him afloat,” she murmurs. “Anyway, on to you— Oh, before all that, I can read minds, but I am actively blocking that right now. I’ll try really hard not to be nosy, but don’t worry, I am really good at keeping secrets because of it.”

You can’t help but smile. “It’s okay. There’s not much that goes on up here anyway.”

She gives you a skeptical look. “I may not be listening, but the amount of energy I am using right now to not listen tells me that’s far from true.”

You just shrug in response, not wanting to get into it.

Thankfully, she keeps her promise and moves on, too, walking toward her closet. “I have loads of t-shirts and hoodies, skirts, too, but I do have some leggings. Do you have a preference?”

“Just whatever you’re comfortable with letting me borrow.”

Part of you thinks she read your mind, though, because she hands you leggings and a t-shirt, along with one of her many zip-up hoodies. You were silently wishing she wouldn’t hand you a skirt.

“My bathroom is just through there and there’s clean towels on the shelf if you want to shower.” Wanda smiles, gesturing toward the open door at the other end of her room.

“Thanks.” You walk over and quickly pee, not realizing until you entered that you’ve desperately had to piss this entire time.

You decide against a shower for the sake of not wanting to take up too much time, and not feeling up for being naked in a stranger’s shower (albeit a kind stranger).

After changing into Wanda’s clothes, and hanging your wet ones over the shower curtain, you go back into Wanda’s bedroom. She’s sitting on her bed, mindlessly moving a red ball of energy between her fingers and up her arms.

She smiles upon seeing you, but doesn’t drop the energy. “Feel better?”

“Yeah,” you nod, mesmerized by the glowing ball of red in her palms. “That’s so dope.”

“Dope?”

“Really cool,” you clarify.

“Oh,” she giggles, and the energy evaporates. “I think I’ve heard Peter say that a few times.”

You have no clue who Peter is, but you don’t question it. “Should we go out there?”

“Yes,” she slides off the bed. “I’ll come with you. Tony can be a handful.”

That’s what your mom used to say about him, too.

You follow Wanda silently out into the hallway, and as you both get closer to the living area and kitchen, you hear two voices this time. One is Tony’s and after a few more steps, you find out that the other voice is Pepper.

“You’re saying she just showed up out of nowhere?”

“Yes, that’s exactly what I’m saying because that’s exactly what happened.”

“And she says you’re her father?”

“Allegedly,” Tony scoffs, resting his hands on the kitchen counter. “I don’t actually know. I can’t remember that far back.”

“How far back?” Pepper asks, arms crossed over her chest.

“She says she’s 19.”

“I’ll be 20 this year,” you interject, enjoying the way Tony fumbles and tries to put on his mask one more time.

“Hey kiddo,” he says. “This is Pepper Potts, she’s the one who wrangles me in.”

Pepper shakes her head before offering you a warm smile and her hand to shake. “It’s nice to meet you, Y/N. I’m sorry you seem to be going through such a tough time.”

“It’s okay,” you say while shaking her hand. “I’m sorry for barging in and all. I didn’t know where else to really go.”

“Nope, that’s okay,” she assures you. “We’re going to get this figured out. Do you mind if you and I just talk for a minute?”

“That sounds good.”

“Awesome,” Pepper smiles. “Okay, Tony, just...go to the lab or something. But...go away.”

You and Wanda share a look as Tony saunters off, no doubt muttering under his breath.

“I’ll leave you guys to it,” Wanda says, gesturing between you and Pepper. “It was nice to meet you.”

“You too,” you smile. “Thanks again for the clothes. I’ll try to give them back soon.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Wanda shakes her head before heading back down the hallway to her room.

You’re left alone with Pepper, who doesn’t terrify you, but the prospect of what conversation is going to come next does.

“Do you want something to eat?” She asks. “I can order something while we talk.”

“Um...pizza?” It’s inexpensive and never fails you in terms of being able to eat it.

“Sure,” Pepper smiles gently. “What kind?”

After telling her your favorite toppings, the two of you take a seat on one of the couches. She finishes placing the order on her phone before she sets down the device and gives you her full attention.

“So. Tony told me your mom passed away,” Pepper pauses. “I’m really sorry for your loss.”

“It’s alright.”

“He also told me you didn’t show up with anything at all,” Pepper says. “Do you mind if FRIDAY does an identity check?”

“Is that like a background check?”

“Essentially, but it’s not that extensive. It’s just so we know the truth about who you are.” She pauses again, sensing your hesitation. “Unfortunately, it’s just a precaution we have to take.”

“Okay,” you agree, realizing you have nothing left to lose. “Uh, how do I…?”

“Right,” Pepper chuckles. “FRIDAY?”

“Yes, Ms. Potts.”

“Will you please do an identity check on…”

“Y/N M/N L/N.”

“One moment.”

“It should just take a few seconds,” Pepper explains. “Oh, and there will be a hologram that will appear— Right there.”

“Identity confirmed.”

The hologram appears in front of the TV, showing general information about you alongside a picture of you — a picture that you think is on your driver’s license, wherever the ashes of that is.

“Y/N M/N L/N, born to Isabella L/N in 2001 in a hospital in Newark, New Jersey. She was born and raised in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania.”

Your eyes widen. “That’s weird.”

“Thank you, FRIDAY,” Pepper says, and the hologram disappears. “It is a little freaky. I’m still not totally used to all of Tony’s tech, but I’ve stopped worrying about it. Good news is, you are who you say you are.” She pauses. “But I do have to ask why you decided to show up here? You told Tony if you had anywhere else to go, you would’ve, so I understand.”

“It’s the first place I could think of,” you admit quietly. “I’ve been living on the streets for a few weeks now.”

Pepper pales. “You’ve been homeless?”

You nod. “Mom died in a house fire. It was our house. I was on a walk to the gas station to get her favorite candy bar because she had been having a rough time.”

“And she…”

“By the time I came out of the gas station, fire trucks were blaring past and I could smell the smoke. The flames were high enough to see from a mile away.”

“I...I am so sorry.”

You shrug, surprised you’re not crying. “Everything I had was in there, except the clothes I was wearing when I got here. She had my cell phone because we could only afford the one, but it burned, too. Everything burned.

“Anyway, she… She always told me Tony was my dad and I didn’t believe her, but then she showed me pictures of them together, and it made me believe her. So I figured coming here would be better than staying on the streets or going to another shelter.”

Pepper nods. “Okay, well, I’m glad you came here. I am. But...Tony can’t do anything for you if he isn’t your real father.”

“I understand.”

“We can do a paternity test,” she offers. “If you want to, I’ll get him to agree. It wouldn’t be the first one he’s had to do, but this one…this one would probably be the first I think he’d do willingly.”

You furrow your eyebrows. “Really?”

She nods. “The others have been infants and the mothers have mostly been after money. The paternity tests were used in court.”

Your eyes widen. “I do not want to go to court.”

“You won’t,” she says. “The test could be done here and kept between the three of us. But, until then, it is up to Tony what he wants to do — whether or not he wants to let you stay. I’m not saying I will allow him to kick you out, but if he doesn’t want you to stay here, I will do everything I can to make sure you are somewhere safe.” She pauses, watching your expression as it changes. “I’m sorry if this sounds so harsh. It’s a recycled speech I’ve had to give a thousand times,” she laughs airily. “But I do mean it when I say I will make sure you’re safe. I don’t care if it comes out of my paycheck.”

“No, you don’t need to do that,” you start shaking your head, but she stops you.

“You are special, I can tell,” Pepper says. “And Wanda seems to like you, which is telling. In the time that she’s been here, it hasn’t been easy to get her to open up to others.”

You felt comfortable around Wanda, too. The same kind of comfortable you feel with Pepper right now.

Before anything else can be said, footsteps are heard and the smell of pizza fills your nostrils.

“Did you order me pizza? You’re too kind, Ms. Potts,” Tony’s voice floats from the hallway before he enters the living room, pizza box in hand.

“Actually, it’s for Y/N,” Pepper says.

“It’s fine,” you wave them off, but neither of them let it slide.

“Nope,” Tony says, placing the box down on the table in front of the couch. “I’ll get plates. You’re eating.”

“But if you—”

“Ah-ah,” he holds up his index finger, raising his eyebrows. “No arguing.”

“Seriously?” You deadpan, rolling your eyes.

You open the box and pull out a slice while he’s busy wasting time getting plates. When he returns, he hands you a plate, even though you won’t use it. He plops down next to Pepper and grabs a slice, shoving half of it in his mouth.

“Want some?” He gestures the half-eaten slice toward Pepper.

She shakes her head. “No, it’s your favorite, not mine.”

Your chewing slows. “It’s your favorite?”

“Yeah,” Tony replies, eating the other half of his slice.

“It’s my favorite, too,” you reply slowly, reaching for a second piece.

Tony smiles, grabbing a second slice, too. “You’ve got good taste, kid.” He takes less of a big bite this time. “So, what’s the consensus? How much money do you want?”

“Tony—” Pepper starts, but he doesn’t let her finish.

“Or, let me guess, paternity test. And money. College? I can give you a scholarship.”

With every word that falls from his lips, you get more and more angry.

“Or are we just waiting for the police to pick you up? I have to admit, that’s boring, but if that’s what we’re doing—”

“That is enough,” Pepper hisses.

“Um,” you swallow the bite of pizza that you had in your mouth. “Thanks for the pizza and...dry clothes and the talk, but I’m gonna go.”

“Y/N--” Pepper tries.

“No, it’s fine,” you shake your head as you stand. “It’s okay, it was a bad idea anyway. Don’t worry about the test, I mean, I’m an adult anyway, it’s not like it would make any difference.”

“She has a point,” Tony adds.

You ignore him. “I’ll just...yeah.”

The two of them are still bickering when you run off, toward the elevator. The doors open quickly and you let the elevator swallow you whole.

You were stupid, so stupid for coming here. You would’ve been better off on another park bench or something.

When the elevator reaches the lobby, you’re running out as fast as your feet will carry you.

+++

You’re thankful for Wanda’s hoodie when the cold wind of New York starts biting into your skin. It’s a miracle to find an open park bench, and it’d be a miracle if it could be a few degrees warmer outside, but you know that’s asking for way too much.

Still, you try to relax and rest. You have no clue where to go from here. Maybe back to a shelter, but the idea of that makes your body shiver for a different reason other than the cold.

You zip the hoodie up to your chin and wrap your arms around yourself, keeping the heat in as much as you can. Eventually, because of the exhaustion, you find yourself drifting off.

When you wake, it’s with a jolt because the empty seat next to you on the bench is now filled.

“What do you want?” After realizing the person is none other than Tony Stark, you can’t be bothered to be polite.

“For you to come back to the Tower before it starts raining.”

You sit up straighter, shaking your head. “No thanks. Did Pepper put you up to this?”

“Actually, I put myself up to this,” he replies. “I was a jackass. I’m sorry.”

“Thanks.”

“I mean it, kid.”

“Maybe stop calling me ‘kid.’”

“I will when you quit acting like one.”

You lift your head to glare at him. “That’s a low blow. Even for you.”

“I just want you to come back to the Tower with me,” Tony says. “I’m sorry. It was a low blow, and so was everything else I said earlier. But I refuse to let you sleep here when there’s a perfectly fine and vacant room at the Tower. Right next to Wanda’s room.”

You mull it over for a second. The mention of Wanda is enticing because despite today’s circumstances, she did seem kind and harmless. The two of you seemed like you could get along well, too, which is rare for you — and her, apparently.

“Fine,” you cave. “But only because this bench is uncomfortable as hell.”

Tony sighs, but doesn’t comment on that. Instead, he stands, gesturing for you to follow, and you do. “Okay, come on. I parked over here.”

“Parked?”

“Yeah, ki— You walked a good thirty minute drive from the Tower.”

“Oh.”

“It’s fine,” he says. “But it is about to rain, so.”

He clicks something and what was once a black smudge in your vision suddenly lit up as the car’s engine roared to life, turning the headlights on, too.

You can’t help but scoff.

“What?” Tony asks through a laugh. “It’s my car.”

“It’s so flashy.”

He accepts it. “Fair point.”

You have no clue what make or model the car is, but regardless it’s too sleek and too low to the ground. Thank God you aren’t driving.

You hop in the passenger seat, unashamed that you want to get out of the wind. Tony silently turns the seat warmers on when he gets in.

After driving for a few minutes, Tony breaks the silence.

“I need to call Pepper to let her know I found you,” he says, and without another word, the car begins calling Pepper. Well, FRIDAY does, because she’s in his cars, too.

Pepper picks up almost immediately. “Please tell me you found her.”

“I did, Pep.”

“Thank God,” she says, exhaling deeply. “Is she in the car? Y/N?”

“I’m here,” you speak up.

“Good,” she replies. “I was scared he made you angrier instead of apologizing.”

You’re still angry with him, but you don’t say that. “He apologized.”

“Good,” Pepper says. “Drive safe, Tony, please.”

“Yeah, yeah, I’ll only go ten above the speed limit.”

“Tony—”

“Call disconnected.”

“Oops,” Tony says. “Do you want a milkshake? Late night snack?”

“I’m good.”

“Suit yourself,” he shrugs, speeding up.

+++

You got a milkshake.

Not because you really wanted one, but because Tony ordered you one anyway. He guessed your favorite — it’s the same as his, but still — and didn’t let you argue. And you’re not one to let something go to waste if it’s right in front of you.

Pepper and Wanda look more than relieved when you enter the Tower beside Tony, milkshake still in hand.

“I have returned with the… With Y/N.”

You roll your eyes.

“Thank you,” Pepper says, but she still gives Tony a glare. When she looks back at you, her expression is soft. “I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay,” you murmur. “I won’t stay for long, I promise.”

Pepper shook her head. “You can stay for as long as you need to. There’s no sense in you sleeping anywhere else when there’s a room here you can have.”

“I could use the company,” Wanda adds, smiling gently. “If you want.”

You smile in return, but you’re still wary. You look at Tony to see what he thinks, but to your complete surprise, he doesn’t look angry or anything.

“As long as you don’t ask for an entire floor, you can stay,” he says.

That’s about as good a response you’re going to get out of him, it seems, so you accept it.

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