#what the fuck dr singh

[emuwarum]

Watching sweet tooth right now. Don’t watch sweet tooth if you like alive characters

#Emu tries to post #sweet tooth #what the fuck general abbot #what the fuck dr singh #if you have a favourite character who is not one of the main trio do not #they will die #even the kids aren’t safe!!!!! PETERRRRER #and oh god… johnny #John….. #noooooooooo #he was one of the best and most helpful characters and then he got MUDERED #he helped all the kids escape the last men and helped Gus and helped #literally everyone #and he had a nice singing voice #and then he tried to stop general abbot from murdering all the kids and got himself murdered! #Right after we thought he was gonna go free! #this show is so dark #but it’s very good #I’m still on the last episode WENDY NO #I wonder what birdies doing now #better be alive cause I can’t take anymore #though I also don’t know if I can take her finding out what happened to Richard #could they fix the bits of the walkie talkie to call her again? #or did Becky leave it behind #oh I can guess another chracters death is imminent now. I mean we’ve known for an episode but #:((((((

[ghostflowerhotpotch]

The road to hell is paved with good intentions

This originally was going to be a reblog to another post, but it happened what it always happens: It got too long.

This is the post in question.

The response I wanted to talk about was that a lot of people were defending Peter's actions in the context that he has good intentions because he believes that this is the right thing to do. There was a mistake I didn't address in that initial post, so I will say the quiet part out loud for this post.

Despite being about Peter, I will talk a lot about Miguel, because Peter is doing what he is doing because he believes in Miguel, which is a problem.

(Disclaimer: I don't hate Miguel, I honestly think he is a great ambiguous character, and I am just going as hard as I do in this post because I'm very passionate about this subject not because I think Miguel should be hated. Fans may want to stay away just in case.)

Pls don't kill me.

This is false, and that's a problem.

Okay, so let's start with this: Miguel is wrong by his own standards. I had already talked about this in other small posts but let's dig deeper into it.

Did you catch the issue yet?

Here is the thing: How a canon event can happen if the person who caused it wasn't supposed to be there?

Miguel is blaming the hole on Miles, saying that it happened because it disrupted the canon event; yet what caused the canon event?

Spot. He did it.

However, Spot is not the arch-nemesis of Pavitr, Spot didn't even want to talk to Pavitr and was mostly ignoring anyone who wasn't Miles. And again, MIGUEL SAYS HOW SPOT SHOULDN'T have EXISTED TOO.

How come Captain Singh was supposed to die in that bridge, if this wasn't the canon event?

Because remember, Miguel says it needs to be a battle against an arch-nemesis too; meaning that if this needed to happen today, THE CANON EVENT WAS ALREADY DISRUPTED BECAUSE THE WRONG PERSON DID IT.

Now, I think the audience not catching this is pretty normal; I think it took me until like my fourth watch to notice that detail. In terms of writing, is supposed to be a small little hole when the next movie talks about what's going on.

(Because yes I am convinced this is the proof that Miguel is wrong about the canon and not just a mistake the writers didn't think of. Like the fact that in Into the Spider-verse Miles's spider glitches; and then in the next movie we realize it was from another dimension.)

However, is one thing the audience to not figured out this thing; another is that Miguel is doing what he is doing when this is the situation.

Let's mention other things Miguel got wrong, not because I want to dunk on Miguel, but because those mistakes had something in common that we need to address.

This is wrong, regardless of how you sliced it, this is wrong.

For starters, Miguel is blaming Miles for being bitten, which is...dumb. Like Miguel doesn't need the context that Miles didn't try to get bitten, it just happens; that's literally what happens to most Spiders, they just got bitten. Someone who objectively has learned about the story of multiple spiders in order to create an algorithm should have noticed that.

Second, this is stupid because now that we had established Miles was going to get stuck in this situation no matter what; let's go said this: The anomaly issues started before Miles was involved.

Miguel establishes how to travel between dimensions and anomalies in general fucks things up; and guess that: there was a spider from another dimension before Miles was involved. Actually, there are more!

Is hard to see, but as you can see, there are OTHER spiders! And considering 42 is the one that says decease yet not the rest, this means they are alive!

This fact I don't know if it will be canon, because it wasn't stated in the movies; but in the artbook is stated that Dr. Oct from 1610 stole John's designs to create the collider; Spot literally created Miles because the Spider was brought by his work.

Not only is Miguel blaming Miles for this mess, but if Miguel thought it was bad that a spider bit someone when they weren't from the same universe; well how good it is to have MULTIPLE being in the hands of one lunatic scientist that is the REAL reason this mess is happening?

Fact aside Miguel is hellbent on catching anomalies yet this slipped past his radar, let's remember that he should probably be aware of much of this.

Call me crazy but when you can get footage of all the spiders and what they are doing, and then you hear about the multiverse almost falling apart; wouldn't you try to look into EXACTLY what happened?

Speaking of exactly what happened-

Oh really? Because if you ask me.

None of these are the same.

Let me break it down.

Miguel's second universe: Things glitch briefly before they start crumbling and disappear entirely.

Pavtir's universe after the Spot: Hole starts sinking an entire building and it is led to believe more can be dragged.

Miles's universe in ITSV: Things glitch before making things from another universe take the place of the original thing.

None of these behave the same, which would be weird if these ones were all truly, made because the canon was disrupted. But what a coincidence that they start to make sense the second you put some context in two of these.

Pavitr's universe is being swallowed by a hole just after the guy who creates holes and wants to open some more became a multidimensional monster thanks to a big Collider who of course can magnify the Spot's effect.

And Miles universe has buildings and the like being replaced because they are trying to bring things from another universe.

So no, I don't believe Miguel's universe is falling apart because 'Canon.' I am sure there is more to it.

I am pretty sure I could find more things if I needed to, but I think this showcases my point. Miguel is wrong, on multiple levels; you can even see this in this post early on with how Miguel blames Gwen even when a perfectly available excuse was right there. Miguel is shown to be in the wrong constantly.

Here is the thing, I am not bringing all of this up because I want to trash Miguel (if I am honest considering how many of the things he does become retroactively worst when you think about it, this is pretty tame.) I am bringing this up because the information is wrong, and they are doing decisions on the basis of that.

Because Miguel doesn't know. None of them do.

They all believe in this.

I don't believe Miguel is a villain, I don't believe he is giving the wrong information because he wants to trick everyone into whatever he would want to do. There is no one in the organization that believes in this more than Miguel.

And that's the problem.

Seeing this movie the number of times I had and rewatching parts for certain things, one of the conclusions I got is that Miguel is hellbent that is his way or the highway on this one. Everybody else? I feel they are being strung along.

For example, Miguel believes Gwen and Miles shouldn't have been involved at all. Jess thought Gwen was okay but sees Miles as an issue. Peter thinks Miles is a fine, anomaly or not.

The cardinal Sin I didn't mention in my original post wasn't left out not because I knew that Miguel, Jess, and the others are just trying to avoid the multiverse from collapsing, and ergo deserve that defense. (Though to clarify, I do believe it is something to consider because is not the same as doing things for selfish reasons than for altruistic ones.)

It was left out because I firmly believe that making a mistake in good faith is wrong by default and doesn't need an explanation.

Also because for reasons I'm going to delve right now, I just can't be normal talking about this topic.

Look, without deviating too much and making this about myself, in real life, I am sick of "But they have good intentions!" Excuse. Is actually laughable how many things that are wrong with me started with good intentions.

But! That sob story only affects one person, right? And is different when it affects others!

My mom saw in me someone with potential, she saw someone smart, that may be able to achieve things, if I just push myself hard enough, I could get the best marks in the class. I just needed to apply myself.

This meant my mom ignored the difficulties I had, chalking them up as excuses, that I wasn't trying hard enough. She loved me so much that she didn't want to believe there was something wrong with me that could stifle my potential.

Without giving unnecessary details, what ended up happening is that I have mental scars that are not going away. Some of the things that happened left irreversible damage.

I think is not a surprise to hear that I am part of the LGTBQ+ Community, in more than just being trans. Do you guys want to know how many times in my life I had heard of "think of the children!" from parents that legitimately believe presenting content that isn't cishet is actually harmful?

I lost the count years ago.

"But that's bigotry! Is not the same if you are doing it for the actual good of the people!"

Sure, hey had you ever learned about the father of gynecology, J. Marion Sims? Without his contributions, we wouldn't have the knowledge we have today, he has been praised for years for his work especially since is an under-researched field.

Did I mention the guy had almost a messianic complex believing he had every right to do what he did, which was torture black women who were slaves?

"Oh but this is fiction!"

For those who don't know or don't remember, this is Tony Stark with Bruce Banner, talking about creating an AI that could help save humanity from the next catastrophe. Bruce was reticent, yet Tony wanted to do this as a response to the events in the first Avengers movie, because he wants to have something that can stop another float of aliens from invading the world.

This thing becomes Ultron, the supervillain of that movie and a villain that created a domino effect that catapulted multiple plot threads later on.

Now class, what do Tony Stark and Miguel O'Hara have in common?

They both have good intentions, and they are trying to save the world/multiverse, yet because they are still wrong, the consequences of it are still their fault.

Let's remember who are the ones paying over this.

Ah yes, basically everyone!

Miguel has noble intentions, he suffered a great tragedy that scarred him for life, and the burden of what he did has driven him to do whatever it takes to save the multiverse, so his mistakes can't happen again. He has been focusing on this entirely, refusing to focus on other things (including his mental health because he needs extensive therapy,) yet for some reason, call it hasty conclusions, call it hubris, I honestly don't know why; he ended up coming up with a flawed theory.

Because here is the thing, is fine for the audience to not catch the logical fallacy as a newcomer who is just new to all of this; yet imagine someone who created an entire theory that they are using as the baseline of rules in order to protect the entire multiverse, and yet somehow he doesn't catch a mistake that you can figure out if you say it slowly.

This is a problem because Miguel has the entire multiverse pending on a wrong theory, because if he focuses on keeping 'canon intact' instead of the real reason why stuff like this happens, it means resources, time and effort are poured into the wrong thing.

This is a problem because has a team that I believe is over a thousand people, including teens that honestly need more help than what this SpiderSociety is doing for them; being accomplices in reinforcing the suffering they had lived. Not to mention the moral dilemma everyone here is going to have.

Speaking of this, let's circle back to how this affects Peter too.

Because he is reinforcing this.

Yes, this is not his theory, yes, clearly how things are being run is not how he would do it. But he still lets this happen, EVERYONE is letting this happen.

This is the problem with Peter, Jess, and everyone else being strung along. Basically, everyone gave one look at Miguel, saw his theory, didn't think too hard about it, and went with it.

Let me remind you, Peter isn't stupid, he knows a few things, about the multiverse. Remember how in the first movie, he was the one who knew why he was glitching? Remember how he was planning to make a new goober himself, meaning he understands enough about it to know how to make it stop?

Here is my thing, "Good intentions" depend on how many people were harmed by those "good intentions." If I decide to bring a glass of water as a courtesy, and I drop the glass; I may have good intentions, but the glass is still going to be broken. However, this is just a glass, which makes it not that big of a deal.

Miguel, by deciding to take care of the multiverse and dictate how the interdimensional travel should be done and by who, is responsible for any mess his rushed conclusions had caused. And anyone who reinforces his ideology is an accomplice.

Now imagine I am a doctor, and I am convinced I found this miracle cure to cancer, and somehow I am able to bypass trials and legal bullshit and launch it into the market, and then is when we realize my cure's research was so poor it ends up making people actually get sicker.

In this scenario I rushed to get the cure to the public so people could be saved quicker, yet by doing so I ended up harming a bunch of people; which meant no good intentions should save me for a trial and judgment for the people who suffered.

Look, I am not a philosopher, and no one is asking me to give a class on Morals and Ethics. You are free to see the situation as you see fit.

The reason I decided to do this entire post, is because I as a person, can't and will not accept "Good Intentions" as an excuse.

I am not saying Miguel is as bad as Kingpin, of course. Again, I truly feel it for his character and his tragic nature; but Good intentions stop being an excuse and become an explanation the moment other people are affected. And at this point, that number is unmeasurable.

Miguel, Peter and Jess, and everyone else decided to preserve canon to save the universe, but if preserving a fake canon ends up making the lives of people worse if not contribute to letting people die; all that means is that the mistakes are marked in blood.

And the pain the people feel from those mistakes isn't erased by good intentions.

Again, sorry for coming way too strong in this one; this is just one of those topics that like the strike, I just can't contain how much it makes my blood boil.

#atsv #atsv files #miles morales #the spot #across the spiderverse #mighel o'hara #spiderman #theory #not gonna lie I am kind of afraid of publishing this one #I don't want to come across as just full miguel hate #is just to happens that miguel did the thing I can't stomach #well one of the things #I lost at least 3 followers after peter b' post I wonder how many I will lose with this

[thelastharbinger]

Tidbits of ATSV That I Enjoyed (Or Alternatively: Just Miles Being The Most Endearing Spidey Ever)

Miles patting The Spot's head after successfully webbing him (I don't see this as condescending, but rather him still engaging with the humanity of a villain like Spot) and ~very assertively~ telling/asking him not to escape.

"I'm like Robin Hood-if he gave to himself."

Miles' spidey senses going off when he arrives late to his dad's party because there's nothing more frightening than Brown parents when they're mad at you. Beware the chancla or correa!

O.k. So we all know there are different versions of the movie out there. You may already know that one of the slight differences is when Miles goes to save Inspector Singh. There's a version where you can hear Gwen's voice in the distant background yelling no! when she thinks Miles gets crushed under the rubble, and there's another where she's silent as she webs to him. Now, I have found ANOTHER version (online) where her shouting is even more at the forefront. She's practically screaming and sounds more desperate, (prolly because it's close to the same way her Peter Parker died so she's reliving trauma) and the fear in her voice is palpable. That one haunts me.

Jefferson trying to equate studying for his police exams to childbirth, which Rio quickly nips in the bud.

Ganke having a soccer poster of Son Heung Min, a famous Korean footballer who currently plays for the Premier League Tottenham Hotspur and is captain of the South Korean national team.

Miles having a Sashimi (his universe's version of Supreme, but I just like the idea that Miles loves eating sashimi. Like I know that kid has good taste in food) poster in his bedroom.

The fact that Miles kept in touch with Aunt May for long enough after the events of ITSV that he helps her move.

The Spot saying he was one of the more handsome scientists at Alchemax according to his colleagues.

Miles and Gwen having the same collectible toys, the only difference being that he keeps his in the box and she doesn't.

"Hey, don't try to wow me with big words, man," *in deep manly voice* "I do crosswords every day"- Miles after Spot points out Alchemax as "the crucible of our connection!"

Miles going, "This job is so dumb sometimes" after he tries to web Spot at the deli, but it goes through a hole and lands on his face.

"Nahhh, he seems more Dominican to me." Kinda want Miles to meet a native Dominican Spidey because that dynamic would highkey fuck hard *pun not intended*. They would repair relations between our two islands-PR&DR.

"Almost there Mami *smiley face* *cowboy* prayer hands*"

The college admissions coach at Visions Academy straight up saying, "That's your story! Now, just stick to the script..." Ma'am what???

"Calmate Mami, eso no es my fault."

"I've hit a lot of different villains with a lot of different food...I'm just trying to lighten the mood."

Miles in his angsty teen era and smart-mouthing everyone around him. Love that for him.

"He almost killed his mom as a baby, I mean, look at those shoulders." No but for real tho. Those shoulders are as wide as a truck. Kim Seokjin who??? (if you understood that reference, ily).

Miles writing a love letter to his dad in 2 cakes.

Gwen at the water tower chowing and saying how feelings make her hungry after her and Miles talked about how they can't be together cause it would end in tragedy. Like Gwen, come again?!

Also, Miles' and Gwen's talk at the Williamsburg Bank Building being lowkey the catalyst for the 2nd/3rd acts of the film. Without them both kind of silently admitting their feelings for each other, Miles probably wouldn't have chased after her the way he did. Pretty sure you know the rest.

"I bet she doesn't even speak Spanish," and Jeff going "Que barbaridad" in his very broken Spanish. Queue Rio's bombastic side eye.

Both Gwen and Miles referring to Spot as a Villain Of The Week, even though neither of them have spoken about Spot to each other.

"I was bitten by a-wouldnt you like to know? Know what I mean?" SIR. Chill. This movie is for children.

The Spot inverting himself, going from a white mass with black spots to a gaping black hole with smaller white spirals. It's giving Junji Ito.

The irony of Pavitr exclaiming, "Well that was another easy adventure for Spider-Man!" right before an incoming canon event. HIS. He was about to experience his first big loss, and his happy-go-lucky nature would've been challenged.

Miguel saying conyo! when all the Spideys start pointing at each other.

"!Cállate!" "Nosy!" Sidebar: we don't talk about Gwen's banter with bad guys enough. She's so funny!

A lot of the Peters saying hi to Gwen as she passes HQ because she is canonically the one lost love--the love interest they all would've ended up with had she not died, so they all have an affection for her.

Web-Slinger going "Giddy up!" Cause he's swinging up.

Miles offering his fresh new takes on how to deal with the Spot upon meeting Miguel, saying "He just wants to be taken seriously. Like we all do." MILES YOU BEAUTIFUL, COMPASSIONATE GOLDEN SUNFLOWER BOY I LOVE YOUUUUU.

Hobie referring to Peter B. as Humbling Reality Spider-Man, which considering how steeped in tragedy the Spidey lore is, is really saying something.

Miguel's nonono no puedo más no puedo más. His misery is very funny and delightful to me. Little bitch ass.

"You know you're the only Spider-Man who isn't funny." Yes! More Miguel slander in the next one, please! Little bitch ass.

"Snitch!"

Miles shouting out Peter's name for help whilst Miguel pins and lays into him the fact that he's an anomaly. This after he momentarily glitches back to his ITSV store-bought suit. Mimicking the way-in also the first movie-Miles shouting out Peter's name for his own rescue as Doc Ock attacks him at the research facility. Because even though he feels hurt by Peter at this point, that's still his dad mentor and he still instinctively looks to him for protection. Rip my heart out why don't you!

Gwen sneaking back into her and her dad's place just to get that printed polaroid of her and Miles, a pic she already has on her phone.

Earth-42 Miles wearing Nike while our Miles wears Jordans.

#hi. ive seen this movie 8x in theaters and twice on pirating sites. i am unwell #also sorry not sorry for the miguel slander. i am a miles loyalist thru and thru thst bitch is on thin ice #but also literally can't get over gwen “it really is so nice to get to talk to you. me & him its different. in every other universe...stacy #cause directly underneath that she's actually saying. “i missed you. and what i have with you i literally do not have with anyone else and. #you dont know this but ive met hundreds and thousands of spiderpeople. nd even in my friendship with hobie its not like what i have with yo #and im actually really smitten with you. the one person i shouldn't be smitten with bc there is no happy ending for us. and idk... #if i should hold off. and im letting you know all this so that you can decide for me. whether to take that lesp of faith or not with you. & #hope that say yes and make the first move so that i cant but help to just sink into you.“ #AND IT MAKES SENSE! SHE MET HIM JUST AS HE WAS LIVING THROUGH AN EXPERIENCE SHE DID. OF BECOMING SPIDEY. AND RIGHT AFTER #SUFFERING THE GREATEST TRAGEDY OF HER LIFE WHICH SHE WAS ABOUT TO BEAR WITNESS THRU WITH HIM. SHE WAS THERE FOR HIS UNCLE DYING AND WATCHED #HIM BECOME SPIDERMAN. WE FORGET THAT THEY ACTUALLY WENT THRU SOME HEAVY THINGS TOGETHER. THEYRE TRAUMABONDED. I KNOW THATS NOT WHAT THAT WO #ACTUALLY MEANS. BUT IT MAKES SENSE THAT SHE CAN ONLY TALK TO MILES BC THEY PERFECTLY UNDERSTAND EO. #anyways idk why im shouting. im high rn. but crazy how all of that meaning was subtly thrown in there. like we got a confession scene folks #from gwen of all people! i love that for me. #also back to miguel: so i know he's hot. but if a hot person were to ever be rude to a waiter we agree theyre no longer hot right? right. #atsv #miles morales #itsv #miguel o'hara #the spot #ghostflower #gwiles #gwen stacy #ghost spider #gwen x miles #rio morales #across the spider verse #into the spider verse

[nthngtoseehere-blog]

I've been poking around The Sign hashtag and have some thoughts about some things people are talking about.

Tharn hitting Phaya: imho, deserved and understandable, and in-character. Firstly, we've already seen Tharn go after someone in defense of someone else: Chart, when Chart was about to kill Phaya in ep 1 - 2. In this situation Phaya was not about to kill the Dr, no. But Phaya had just attacked Dr, shoved him up against a concrete post and then hit him, during which Tharn was unable to get out of the car to help - that had to be scary. And then he finally gets out and Phaya starts dragging him away, will not let him go, is basically acting like a goddamn lunatic. Tharn is trained to fight. So he fights. He has to hit the guy he might be half in love with just to get him to fucking *stop.* That is not Tharn's fault, and it's not out of character. It was a shitshow, Tharn reacted appropriately for someone who is not a wilting flower.

The crime part of the show is going no where and is a distraction from the rest of the story: WHAT. We just found out that Lt Tam's death may have been a cover-up and that such cover-ups are an actual problem tied to a person in power - who also was responsible for keeping Songyod out of jail - AND the cover-up problem has been tied to Tharn's parents' deaths (speculatively, by Singh). That's the opposite of going no where and being unrelated.

ACAB: the show is too hooya about the righteousness of police. I agree, and it has been the only part of the show that I don't like. EXCEPT things are maybe getting interesting on that point. I'm not saying this will turn out to be a show about how the justice system sucks, and the boys will be disillusioned. But you know, it might. We've had Thongtai say "the cops failed the SA victims." Sure Inspector Akk yelled at him, but he didn't deny it, he said that they have to believe that the system can make a difference. And now we're finding out that Akk is explicitly going against orders and having his team - who he knows from experience will do what they think is right even if the rules tell them not to - investigate Lt Tam's death. This seems less "all cops are perfect" and more "the system can be corrupted, and the good cops have to fight that." Still an idealized approach to justice, but this *is* a show where romance includes stuck pants zippers and accidental face-plant kissing. And Khem.

#the sign the series #the sign #thinky #its nerd time folks

[star-trek-fandom-confessions]

#250

"At the risk of being accused of being a racist white man or female misogynist, I fail to understand how the existence of La'an Noonien-Singh on the Enterprise fits into the rest of Trek canon or is even necessary. SNW's expansion on Uhura, Chapel, and Number One's characters I can understand since Uhura is the main girl of TOS and Una and Christine are TOS characters too. Even Erica being Sulu's predecessor doesn't really mess with TOS canon too much. Same with Pelia being Scotty's, or even the expansion of T'Pring's character since she is the fiance of a main TOS character Spock.

Like, don't get me wrong, she's not the first Trek character to have a "famous" relative, but if being Khan's descendant and called "augment" is so bad, why didn't she or her parents change their last name? To me, that is the biggest facepalm moment since Magnus and Erin Hansen deciding to bring little Annika on their Borg studies mission. Heck, I'd argue that Una's augment prejudice storyline is better-written and less ham-fisted since her being Illyrian doesn't fuck TOS canon too much, plus her super strength and perfect immune system make her a bigger "threat" to Starfleet than La'an's last name and ability to be a better drunk than everyone else. I also feel like La'an's character hinges on her last name and retconning of the Gorn. Idk how to explain it, but what else is there to fall back on compared to other characters? Even the crush on Kirk is strange because she retroactively never existed during the events of "Space Seed" and The Wrath of Khan, and Kirk never mentions her during those events. One could argue how TOS Chapel is a "passive" or "shallow" character compared to La'an, but TOS Chapel's personality can still be explained by her grief and regret over past relationships with Spock and Roger Korby.

Like don't get it wrong, this rant isn't a hate-boner on La'an herself, I'm just very critical of her character's existence and how it will fit into the future of SNW and TOS' canon events. Does she die of Gorn parasite eggs laid inside her? Is her super-duper special Khan DNA the reason TOS era Gorns look more human? Do she and Dr. Marcus become friends, or love rivals over Kirk? (I personally hope it's the former because I hate prolonged love triangles and toxic Kirk/La'an shippers.) If she even dies in SNW, is it to contrast with Khan being awoken from cryosleep in some kind of narrative irony? Or does Temporal Investigations mess up and screw her out of existence? I don't think I would say her character is boring but my God, does it's existence confuse me sometimes."

#confession 250 #two parts confession #star trek #star-trek-fandom-confessions #strange new worlds #la'an noonien singh

[contentment-of-cats]

Further TL;DR rant on Eli Vanto

"Caucasian features."

It's been bugging the absolute f*ck out of me.

Yes, I am back on my Eli Vanto bullshit.

Break it down.

White America is a Color

First, I think that only in America is the word Caucasian used to mean white people. The American understanding of Caucasian as meaning white, European-descended people was upheld by the Supreme Court in 1923. The case of United States v. Bhagat Singh Thind ruled that under the Naturalization Act of 1906 that only "free white persons" - also called Caucasians - and "aliens of African nativity and persons of African descent" to become naturalized citizens. Bhagat Singh Thind's argument rested on the descent of Europeans and Indians from a common Proto-Indo-European origin. The court disagreed.

Excerpt below, full text here.

What we now hold is that the words "free white persons" are words of common speech, to be interpreted in accordance with the understanding of the common man, synonymous with the word "Caucasian" only as that word is popularly understood. As so understood and used, whatever may be the speculations of the ethnologist, it does not include the body of people to whom the appellee belongs. It is a matter of familiar observation and knowledge that the physical group characteristics of the Hindus render them readily distinguishable from the various groups of persons in this country commonly recognized as white. The children of English, French, German, Italian, Scandinavian, and other European parentage quickly merge into the mass of our population and lose the distinctive hallmarks of their European origin. On the other hand, it cannot be doubted that the children born in this country of Hindu parents would retain indefinitely the clear evidence of their ancestry. It is very far from our thought to suggest the slightest question of racial superiority or inferiority. What we suggest is merely racial difference, and it is of such character and extent that the great body of our people instinctively recognize it and reject the thought of assimilation.

It is not without significance in this connection that Congress, by the Act of February 5, 1917, 39 Stat. 874, c. 29, § 3, has now excluded from admission into this country all natives of Asia within designated limits of latitude and longitude, including the whole of India. This not only constitutes conclusive evidence of the congressional attitude of opposition to Asiatic immigration generally, but is persuasive of a similar attitude toward Asiatic naturalization as well, since it is not likely that Congress would be willing to accept as citizens a class of persons whom it rejects as immigrants.

So, in America, the term Caucasian means 'white people' and not people of the Caucasus, or a group of people who have 'Caucasian features.' This is still accepted and common usage, despite the science of race being on a par with the sciences of alchemy, astrology, phrenology, a flat earth and the sun orbiting it.

Who with the What, Now?

A German philosopher named Christoph Meiners started the whole shitshow. He divided the races into the 'Caucasian' or 'beautiful' race and the 'Mongoloid' or 'ugly' race. Johann Friedrich Blumenbach carried it further in 1795, dividing humanity into five races by skin color.

First, this image is all over the search results, no findable attribution, but I'm using it because it's accurate in terms of skin colors:

Other 'Caucasian features' included narrow noses with small nostrils and a sharp nasal sill, small mouths with thin lips, prominent supraorbital (above the eye socket) ridges, orthognathism and high cheekbones. Of course, in the late 1700s when all this was being quantified into 'racial features' not many Caucasoids fit into the categories. Not a lot of people do today. I'd love to have everyone in America take a 23-and-Me test, then make them sit down, shut the fuck up and think.

Star Wars and Mis-coloring

I am old enough to remember when Lando Calrissian was the only black man in the galaxy.

Eli Vanto.

Tan.

Really.

The definition of 'tan' is a yellowish brown color, or the processing of leather, but we're going with the classic "brown or darkened shade of skin developed after exposure to the sun." In short a tan is acquired and not an innate skin color. It doesn't help that one of the most referenced fandom resources repeatedly characterizes brown people as 'tan.'

Even Breha Organa is miscolored as 'golden tan.' These guys did not acquire a goddamn tan hanging out on Scarif. Luke Skywalker was mighty white even after living his whole life on a desert planet, and Obi Wan had not a trace of tan despite living there as long as Luke. These are brown people. Black characters such as Adi Gallia and Mace Windu are characterized as "dark."

For shit's sake. Is everyone at Wookiepedia afraid of the word 'brown?'

Light brown. Medium brown. Dark brown.

I realize that the GFFA doesn't have Earth's definitions of ethnicity, nationality, or race but miscoloring is miscoloring. Tacking on 'Caucasian features' is adding a racist trope to insult. Structural racism in the US is deeply ingrained and often the default setting when it comes to media. It is important to give people their representation when it is right fucking there.

Eli Vanto is brown. His canon appearance is in the comics, and while he might have been originally storyboarded as a white redhead, he did not stay that way. His voice actor in the audiobooks gave him a Texas twang, but maybe in other versions of the audiobook, he speaks with a different accent.

Turkish Eli? Sure.

Brazilian Eli? Absolutely.

Oaxacan Eli? Why not.

Desi Eli? Heck yes.

Mizrahi Eli? Bring it.

He's brown. Not white. Not tan with Caucasian features. He is as brown as Thrawn is blue.

#star wars #thrawn #eli vanto #long post #miscoloring #whitewashing

[snaillamp]

Fuck appendixes pt. 3

Christina and Boris were sitting at the desk in the nurses area, discussing their difficult patient. “He’s so much easier to help when he’s drugged up and mellow. I legitimately feel scared to go in alone when he’s in one of his moods.” Boris murmured to her.

It had been half an hour since they had tried giving Enjar Nielson his meds, but he was so difficult to help when he kept refusing it and being so rude and aggressive. “I know it’s hard, Boris. You’ll have people like that sometimes. He seems different though. It’s weird, I see him in town sometimes and he always seems so nice and friendly, what changed?” Christina mused. “We need to get that consult for him that Dr Mathieson wanted. Dr Singh maybe? He seems like the right guy to manage someone so... hard.”

Boris nodded, stroking his chin. “Do his records say anything that we can use?” Christina shook her head. “It’s so weird, the notes are really vague. The last time he was in hospital was due to injuries sustained in a home invasion, that was just some glue to his head and a concussion, but look at before. These are the worst medical notes I’ve ever seen in my 15 years of nursing.”

She clicked onto the file, running her finger under the pitiful sentences. “10 years ago, he went to hospital for: Severe work related injury, major lacerations to face and arms, surgery required. Blood transfusion required, administered in right arm. No more information is available at this ti-” A scream echoing down the hall interrupted her. Boris, Christina and a few other nurses shot up and hurtled down the hallway towards the room.

11B, Mr Enjar Nielson.

Boris reached the doorway first, gasping in horror at what he saw. Enjar was seemingly asleep, thrashing in his bed, tangled in his IV and sheets. Sweat was drenching his body as he squirmed, screaming again, crying out slurred words. Christina pushed past him, yanking off the sheets before looking at him and yelling. “Stoltz! We need to get the IV!”

Boris snapped into action, rushing to Enjar’s side and softly pushing his shoulders into the bed. The man seemed to choke on his panting gasps, tears staining his face as he tried to get free. His right arm flew up, blood already streaming from the IV as he clawed at Boris’ arms. He watched as the man’s eyes flew open, fixed on him and yet also nothing, pupils blown bigger than he had ever seen on someone before.

He felt the sharp fingernails of the man stab painfully into his wrists as he tried to calm the man down, telling him to breathe deeply and that he was in the hospital. The terrified, screaming man didn’t seem to understand as Christina fumbled on gloves to disconnect the IV. Before she could even do that, the man’s grip tightened painfully of Boris’ wrists, before he choked on a hiccup and pushed Boris off with strength he didn’t expect from a sick and injured man.

A rattling, chesty cough overtook Enjar as he shook violently with every convulsion. Christina tried to grab his arm to remove the IV but his wild eyes locked onto it, and before Boris could reach out to stop him, he pulled the cannula from his arm, hurtling it at the wall before wrestling off his oxygen.

Christina stared in horror as the hyperventilating patient stared at his rapidly bleeding arm before his wide eyes rolled back and he fell sideways, only caught by her at the last second. Almost immediately, his breathing calmed and the shaking stopped. Both nurses looked at each other in awe, before they shot into action again, dressing the wound on his elbow and calling the doctor.

~

Dr Fayed heard the screams from his office, jumping from his chair, he ran down the hallway to see a group of nurses crowded around the room 11B, Enjar’s room. Shoving his way through, he reached the bed where his friend lay, limp and pale, sweating profusely. The head nurse, Christina was dressing his bloody elbow, blood also staining her scrubs, the bed, the floor. “What happened in here?” He asked in shock. The younger nurse looked up at him, arguably more pale than the patient, “I have no idea…” he panted.

Dr Fayed pulled a pen light from his pocket, shining them in Enjar’s eyes. His pupils were huge. Feeling his wrist, he raised his eyebrows in shock. The man’s pulse felt like it wanted to jump out of his skin. “Is Dr Mathieson coming?” He asked Christina, who looked at him grimly, nodding. She finished dressing the wound, before stepping back and looking at her blood stained clothes. “Well, time to grab my seconds.” She muttered, mildly annoyed.

She glared at the nurses crowded around the doorway. “Well? Get back to your rounds, ladies and gents. You know better than to gawk.” She huffed as they all muttered apologies, shuffling away and returning to their work.

Dr Fayed looked at the man below him, watching his chest rise and fall. “Oh Enjar. What has happened to you?”

~

Dr Mathieson flew into the ward looking ready to kill. “Where is my patient!” He yelled, face contorted and pink with rage. Christina shot up and rushed to his side, “Shhh, we’re trying to be quiet so we don’t make him fly into an episode again. Dr Singh is with him right now. Just... be quiet for once.” Dr Mathieson drew in a long, sharp breath, sighing steadily. “Alright.”

When he entered the room, a tall man was taking a seat by the bedside of his patient. He had a fancy, mauve coloured silk vest on over a neatly pressed, crisp white shirt and perfectly fitted dark grey dress pants. His leather shoes could probably have reflected Dr Mathieson’s face in them if he looked at them. He had a matching mauve turban wrapped around his head and was twisting an expertly curled moustache with his right hand, his low, vibrating voice quietly talking to a fast breathing Enjar. The man’s shaking hand was squeezing the doctor’s own, his long fingers curled around the patient’s pale, clammy ones.

He turned at the sound of Dr Mathieson entering the room. “Ah, Tomas…” He whispered, beckoning him in. “Nice and slow okay, we need to work with him, not against him.” Dr Mathieson nodded, taking a cautious step into the room and glancing at his patient, who was staring at the ceiling, eyes streaming with thick, hot tears. “We are just having a moment together, then you and I can talk. You’re welcome to join Ahmed.” The tall doctor did a tiny, slow gesture towards Dr Fayed, who was leaning against the wall looking angry.

Dr Mathieson watched as Dr Singh gently brought his right hand down to Enjar’s hand. It was still tightly gripping his own and he could see Dr Singh's skin going pale as the blood flow was stopped in the iron grip. “I’m touching your hand, can you feel it?” He whispered, watching in the rapidly fading light as the silent crying man nodded. Dr Singh stroked the back of the man’s hand very softly, before speaking again. “I’m going to touch your forearm, okay? Remember that you are in a safe place, and if you want me to stop, just say the words.” Enjar jerked his head in a small nod, swallowing as he closed his eyes. “Breathe in deep for me, Enjar.” The doctor trailed his fingers down the man’s forearm, guiding him in his breaths.

~

Enjar felt the delicate title of the man’s soft fingers. His presence was calming, he smelled nice, his scent filling the room. Some kind of deep, sweet, herbal smell, maybe floral? He felt the man’s hand trail to his elbow as the told himself over and over: ‘It’s a hospital, not that hospital. I’m safe, I’m safe. Stop being pathetic Enjar.'

He heard the man’s strangely deep, vibrating voice again. “I’m going to touch your upper arm and shoulder. Tell me if you want me to stop. Remember where you are and try to ground yourself.” Enjar let out another shaky breath as the man’s fingers traveled up his arm, then rested on his shoulder.

“Good, good.” The doctor coached, squeezing his shoulder ever so slightly.

“Please… don’t hurt me…” Enjar whispered, trying to push the image of the gloves and helmeted men from his mind. They weren’t the enemy. They were the medic squad, he shouldn’t be afraid of them. “I won’t hurt you.” The helmeted man by his side said, before the image in his mind seemed to dissolve and he heard the new doctor’s voice again. “I am not here to hurt you.”

He heard a shuffle from somewhere around him, and he twitched, before the steady hand rested on his shoulder a little harder. “It’s just Dr Mathieson, Enjar. He won’t hurt you. I need you to ground yourself, alright. Take all the time you need. I’m going to place my hand on your chest now. Tell me to stop if you don’t want it.”

Enjar gulped as he stared at the ceiling, looking at the light fixtures above him. He felt the doctor’s hand move over his shoulder and stop on his chest lightly, right above his pounding heart. “Keep breathing, you’re doing so well Enjar. In and out with me, now.”

Enjar heard the man’s deep, sighing breaths and copied. The gentle hand on his chest felt comforting, the pleasant weight resting over his heart and the breaths that were making him feel faint. After a few minutes, he suddenly became awake of where he was, drawing in a deep breath and blinking as his vision cleared as if a wave of clarity had hit him like a truck.

“There we are. Did you want a lamp on so you can see better?” The doctor asked. Enjar took a moment before shaking his head. The dark was safe. He was safe. “That’s okay. Take all the time you need to come back to us.”

Enjar sat up, hunched over for several minutes, breathing deeply as a hand rested between his shoulder blades. With every breath, he felt like he was shedding his heavy Enjar suit and actually becoming himself once more. It no longer felt like he was looking through someone else’s eyes, feeling through someone else’s skin and hearing through someone else’s ears. He was back.

That meant the pain came back too.

He groaned, clutching his stomach and laying back down coughing a little. He squeezed his eyes shut, before mumbling barely coherent words. “Can I have the lamp on now?” Dr Fayed smiled, “Of course, Enjar.” He whispered, leaning over to the dim lamp in the dark room, switching it on. Enjar saw the light come one behind his eyes lids, and after getting used to the brightness, he opened his eyes, sighing.

“I feel like shit.” He whispered, slurring his words. Dr Singh smiled, “That’s understandable, you’ve been through a lot. Take your time, Mr Nielson. I just need to talk to your doctor.” Enjar felt a twinge of panic. He didn't want to be alone. “Will you come back?” His voice hitched as he asked. “Of course. But I do have to go for a short time.” Enjar nodded, rolling onto his side and relishing in the fact he could pull his right arm around himself and not be restrained by the oxygen. Holding his blankets over him as he curled up, he lay there, watching the three men leave the room.

~

Dr Mathieson shut the door and looked at the two doctors. “So what exactly happened here?” Dr Singh, towering over Dr Mathieson crossed his arms and answered with an accusatory tone. “Your patient experienced one of the worst traumatic episodes I’ve seen in my career, that’s what.” Dr Mathieson felt a pile of lead settle in his stomach, before it erupted into fire. “Are you insinuating that I did not look after my patient?”

The taller doctor looked down his hooked nose and smirked. “Of course not, Tomas, but I am concerned that it got to that stage in the first place.” Dr Mathieson huffed, pacing the hallway. “And what about you? Why were you in there?” He snapped at Dr Fayed. “I was passing by and I heard him screaming bloody murder. He ripped his IV from his elbow and threw it across the room.” Dr Mathieson scoffed. “That explains the blood everywhere. So what he went insane?”

Dr Singh grimaced. “No, I would prefer the term, went into a fight or flight response. It seems he thought he was somewhere else, perhaps the same place as where he received his scarring. Either way, he wasn’t lucid or aware of his surroundings, think of it like a dream but you’re awake and asleep at the same time.”

“So who’s fault is this?” Dr Mathieson asked, shrugging. “Well, nobody’s and everyone’s. Pointing fingers at what everyone did and didn’t do correctly is not going to help. What we should focus on right now is getting him through this, Doctor Mathieson.” Dr Singh finished shortly. He twirled his moustache. “What is his treatment plan like?”

Dr Mathieson ran a hand through his hair, brow creasing in thought. “He need IV antibiotics and fluids. The nurse made a note that his surgical site may be showing signs of infection, apart from that, rest and sleep.” Dr Singh nodded, stroking his chin. “It looked like he hadn’t been sleeping well. Was he being interrupted a lot?”

The head nurse, Christina wandered over, hearing the question. “We were doing hourly vitals and he had a malfunctioning machine in there that kept beeping for a bit. Any sleep he was getting was maybe 20 minutes at a time, maybe slightly more. It seemed like he was deliberately staying awake too, before he’d pass out at random times.”

Dr Singh nodded again. “Right, well let’s get treatment back on track. I want his IV in his hand and easier mobility for him. Maybe give him a bath and some kind of independence. Let him feel in control. We can adjust from there, okay? Any issues, call me immediately.”

All three doctors nodded, before Dr Singh cracked the door open, peeking in.

Enjar looked up at him, smiling a little. “How are you feeling?” The doctor asked as he sat up a little. “Sore… Tired... Drained… I just want to be left alone to sleep.” Dr Singh nodded, adjusting his vest slightly. “We will leave you to that, Enjar. However I want to discuss with you your sleep. Have you been getting any?” Enjar felt a small ball of anxiety settle on his chest. “I can’t… Too many memories.” He looked at the doctor, his voice hoarse from screaming.

“They hurt me. The target… All I remember is waking up with my face being covered in gauze and a mask… Black gloves and guys in tactical gear…” Dr Singh moved his head in curiosity. “You were a soldier?” Enjar shook his head. “Special Ops. I helped take down so many guys… bombers, shooters, murderous maniacs…” He sighed, “My team… was my family. We went out on a mission, the target had kidnapped a woman… but we didn’t realise that he wanted us to turn up. I was the only one of my unit to survive, but not without…” His fingers traced the cuts on his arms, a haunted expression on his face.

“I hit my head on a rock and passed out, but I was bleeding a lot. When they found me I woke up and they kept me alive, barely… The hospital in the capital was hell. I was so scared, they didn’t listen to me, it was happening too fast and I just needed a second to catch up.” A hot tear fell down his face and Dr Singh hummed.

Enjar woke to a blank ceiling. He tried to move his arms and legs but they wouldn’t move. The cuffs had strapped him firmly down as he tried to escape... howling at the doctor to wait, to stop, that he wasn’t ready.... He tugged at the leather straps so hard he felt his wrist pop, before two nurses pounced on his right arm, holding it down and letting the doctor penetrate it with a needle....

He couldn’t move, scream, cry, he wanted to run but he was strapped down and it was all to much… The cold liquid filled his arm making it ache, they couldn't do this... he had the choice to say no didn't he? His mind was going a million miles an hour as he felt a jab in his arm and his mind tipped sideways...

Dr Singh frowned, looking angry. “That should never have happened to you Enjar. What that doctor did was wrong, they should have listened to you.” Enjar shook his head. “It was a classified case… Their job was to keep me alive so that I could go to court and testify. My organisation didn’t see me as a person. I was a tool. A means to an end, and that meant they could do anything they wanted. They didn’t even use my name. I was Officer 6926… It was all in my contract...”

Dr Singh rested his hand on Enjar’s and he held it, enjoying the warmth. “Well here, you’re Enjar. I hear that now, you’re a lighthouse keeper. That must be interesting.” Enjar's eyes light up. “It’s the best job in the world." Dr Singh nodded, encouraging him. "I work for the Coast Guard keeping ships safe and even do rescue missions when they need me. I’ve gotten really good at bird watching too, and if I wake up early enough, I can watch the dolphins, whales and seals come in. If I'm lucky, an orca... ” Dr Singh smiled at him, nodding. “That sounds like a dream.”

Sadness washed over Enjar’s face. “I want to go home. Back to my cabin. To my own place. Everything feels… right there.” The doctor nodded, squeezing his hand. “I want to talk to you about that. The sooner we can get you well, the sooner you can go home.” His face made a shiver go down Enjar’s spine.

“This means you’ll need an IV.” Enjar tensed, but the doctor squeezed his hand, “I will make sure they put it in your hand, not your elbow. I’ll need to look at your charts, but I’d say a week or so from now, you might be able to go home to bed rest. We can organise someone to check in on you too. You’ll need to come for check ups of course, but I see you making a full recovery, though this is not my area of expertise.”

Relief filled Enjar as he relaxed, nodding after considering it. “Okay. I’ll do it.”

~

“Ready?” The nurse asked Enjar as his hand began to shake. His breath hitched with anxiety. “Remember what we talked about, Enjar.” Dr Singh’s deep voice reminded him. “It’s like a wave, you just have to face it and let it wash over you, then it well be over and you’ll be fine.” Enjar nodded, gulping. “Okay, I’m ready.”

He shut his eyes and flinched as he felt a small prick, then nothing. A minute later the rush of cold fluid into his veins made him grimace, but he felt fine, if not a little jittery. “You did wonderfully, Enjar. I’m proud of you.” Dr Singh smiled wide, flashing his shining teeth, before it fell.

“You feeling okay?” Enjar felt a slight faint feeling creep over him, the blood draining from his face. “I think I might be fai…” His head lolled to the side as he went limp. “That was to be expected. Give him a minute.”

When he came to, Enjar felt fine. He groaned, moving his arm and feeling nothing but the dressing on his elbow crease. “Welcome back, don’t worry you were out for less than a minute.” Dr Singh comforted him. “I have to go now, but you did well Enjar.”

~

Sleeping was easier for the next few days, the IV so much more comfortable. The dreams were still happening, but he would only twitch or moan in his sleep when he had them, not even remembering them after he woke up.

A day or two later, Matthew and Gunnar came to visit, bringing with them well wishes from the Base and other lighthouse keepers, before they stepped aside and revealed a face Enjar hadn’t seen in many years.

“Johaan?” Enjar laughed, sitting up and watching as the hunched over old man shuffled into the room, leaning on a cane. “Ah, my protégé! How are you my boy? Looking after my old home well?” Enjar smirked, “Evidently not, sir.” The leathery skin on the old man’s face creased as he faked offense. “Now, now, boy, what did I say about all that formality crap, hmm?” He burst into laughter, flashing a toothy grin. “It seems like you have even less teeth than last time!” Enjar joked back as the hunched elder wrapped his arms around Enjar’s frame. “I still have plenty of teeth. Oh, but I missed you, my boy.” He muttered, jokingly before sitting back and reminiscing with the younger man about his own time in the tower.

Enjar seemed to really perk up over the next few days. A mild infection was treated on his wounds and by his second week in hospital he was being prepared for discharge. Matthew and a nurse helped him put on some fresh clothes, before helping him to his weak feet and almost dragging him to a wheelchair. He hugged his delicate stomach tight as they wheeled him down to the entrance of the hospital and into the Coast Guard Four-Wheel Drive.

Matthew jumped in the front seat, revving the engine and starting off, Enjar laying back and sighing in content, he was finally going home. “We just have to make a quick stop first.” Matthew leaned over the seat as he glanced at Enjar, “What, forget to get your wife an anniversary gift?” Enjar joked. Matthew scoffed, “No… Wait what day is it?” Enjar opened an eye and looked at him, amused.

“14th.”

Matthew looked a little pale. “Oh, yeah, okay two stops.” Enjar chuckled, wincing at the pain it caused, before closing his eye again. They stopped at a corner store, Matthew rushing in and coming back with a box of chocolates. “For me? How thoughtful.” Enjar teased, watching Matthew go red. “Shut up. Just cause you’re sick doesn’t mean I won’t hit you.” He smiled, looking at Enjar properly. “I’m glad you’re back, though. I missed your endless taunting.”

~

Enjar watched the streets turn to empty roads, before they reached a building he hadn’t seen in a while. The large, red and white concrete building with it’s radio towers and lights was nestled into the mist. “Everyone wanted to say hi.” Matthew said, as he got out of the car.

Enjar opened the door and slid out, leaning heavily on the door. “I can get the chair if you want it? You don’t have to be all tough and shit in there.” Matthew said, gesturing at the boot of the car. Enjar gritted his teeth, shaking his head. “I want to try. Just the length of the car and if I can’t then sure.”

Matthew rolled his eyes, before slinging Enjar’s arm over his shoulders and helping him walk. With each step, Enjar seemed to get slightly stronger, until they made it to the door. Enjar gripped the wall for a minute, catching his breath, before nodding. “Ready.” He muttered.

Matthew opened the door and Enjar smiled at the familiar smell of must and burnt coffee that greeted him. They limped through the reception area and into the main office, where someone yelled out, causing the 10 people in the office to all look up and cheer.

Enjar blushed, looking at his feet. Somehow, he ended up in the centre of the office, seated in a comfortable chair with a warm, very burnt coffee in his hands and showered in hugs and greetings. The officers were all happy to see their favourite lighthouse keeper (although they would never admit that), happy, well and alive.

Enjar was shown all the new equipment they had just received. Gunnar was particularly excited about a large chainsaw, and one of the radio operators proudly showed off their collection of birds they had spotted in the area, neatly ticked off in a bird book. Before long, Enjar felt the pain creeping into his body and he apologised, insisting he it was time for him to go home.

As he was helped from the office, he laughed at how everyone was being so careful and delicate with him, almost as if he was made of glass. As Matthew loaded him into the truck again, he sat back and watched the sun begin to set along the coastline, feeling the nerves and turmoil of the past fortnight settle as the sea air filled his lungs.

“Nearly there buddy.” Matthew murmured as he pulled up to the lighthouse. The officers at Base had all been taking shifts to operate it while he was gone, and Enjar was little apprehensive to see how many things he would probably have to fix because of that, but most importantly, he was home.

~

As Matthew opened the door, Enjar sighed. Everything was fine, except for some muddy footprints on the floor. He rolled his eyes as Matthew gently placed him on the couch next to the door. “You’ll be okay from here?” He asked Enjar again for the millionth time, looking nervous. “Yes. The nurse will be coming tomorrow, so if I die or anything, I’m sure they will rescue me.” Enjar insisted, half annoyed.

“Okay, okay…” Matthew asked, admitting defeat. Biting his lip, Enjar decided it was best to do it now. “Hey… You know what I said when I was sick…” He fiddled with his hands as Matthew said it was nothing, assuring him that it was fine and that he had been sick. “Just be quiet… I’m sorry. You saved my life, Matthew. Thank you.” Enjar grinned.

Matthew plonked down on the couch, causing it to groan under the strain. “Hey, you saved mine when I was a rookie, think of it as me returning the favour. Now we're even.” He smirked before standing. “I gotta get home. Call if you-“

Enjar rolled his eyes, finishing Matthew’s sentence, “-Need anything. I swear if you say that one more time I’m going to throw you off the tower.” Matthew grabbed the door, laughing. “You gotta catch me first!”

He waved goodbye, leaving Enjar to sit in the silence of his cabin. It felt good to be home, his anxiety finally calmed and his mind at ease.

Easing himself up, he slowly made his way across his home, grabbing onto chairs, benches and door frames, before finally making it to his bed. He collapsed face first into the soft mattress, exhausted. “I missed you…” He mumbled into the sheets, freshly washed by one of the guards.

Crawling into bed, he stared at the ceiling, looking at the knots in the wood of the awnings. He had counted them many times with his eyes on nights that he couldn’t sleep, but tonight, his eyes fell shut before he got past number 4.

That night he had the best sleep he had had in a really long time.

~masterlist~

#whump #medical whump #hospital whump #needle whump #sickfic #snaillamp #original post #part three #i thought this would be a two parter oh well #enjar #whump oc #sick whumpee

[tellthemeerkatsitsfine]

Hey! Why (Defenestratte) here. Remembered you're keen on the John Oliver bits of the Horne Section TV Show, so wanted to send you this: https://www.chortle.co.uk/interviews/2022/10/24/51964/i%E2%80%99m_definitely_a_lot_odder_in_the_show_than_i_am_in_real_life

It's an interview with Alex Horne and does have a sneak peek on Mr Oliver's involvement in the show. Hope this is useful/fun for your interests!

Well shit. I am very interested in the mystery of why John Oliver is doing this show, and I have to love any mystery where every bit of information that shines light on the situation brings up more questions than answers. For example:

How did that work with John Oliver on the laptop calling in?

We had to be really clever with that, I had a day with him over Zoom and we had to record everything. We had to go through every script and lots of costume changes, we had to improvise quite a bit and then we had to fit round his bits in the room.

So, we had to pretend he was there, someone had to press play, that was really odd, but it worked. Hopefully I think when you’re watching it you presume that he’s actually there but he’s a man that doesn’t have much free time. He also nailed everything first time. We’re all so used to people being on Zoom now and you don’t really bat an eyelid, I think.

The main question this brings up is what is he going to be on the show? Before seeing this article, I assumed they'd come up with some reason for a fictionalized John Oliver to talk to the characters in the show over video chat, and that would be his role. Which I still think must be the case, because I'm not sure the alternative is technologically possible. This paragraph seems to suggest that the actor John Oliver filmed his parts over video call, but the character John Oliver will be physically in the room with them, like CGI. Which, as I said, I don't think can actually be done. But then why would the other actors have to pretend he's there? I guess what this means is just that it's hard to talk a screen that'll be playing pre-recorded footage, and pretend you're having a live conversation with the person on it. But it's worded in a way that implies they're all in front of green screens, pretending a tennis ball on a stick is John Oliver.

So that's an entirely new question for me, though it's one that will be answered as soon as the show starts on November 3rd. For the mystery I was wondering about before, of why he's there, this article offers: "It was quite a long process and I think now we’ve done it hopefully it’ll be easier in future, but we’ve got Big Zuu, Dr Ranj Singh, John Oliver who is in every episode and he’s enormous in America, he’s won a million Emmys! So that’s odd, he said yes straight away."

Thank you, Alex, that tells me nothing and leaves me more baffled than before. I am beginning to suspect that John Oliver agreed to do this just because he found my Tumblr blog, learned that someone has decided to become an historian on everything about his career that ties him to Britain, saw this person trying to put all the pieces together and find connections that make sense in an overall picture, and decided to fuck with me by doing the most inexplicable thing possible, that clashes with everything about his previous relationship with British media of any kind. That's my current working theory.

Anyway, thank you for the link, @defenestratte! I'd not seen this before, and I appreciate the baffling information. Really looking forward to November 3rd now, to see what this is about. Oh, and for anyone who wants to read the article without copy-pasting the URL, here's a link. It does contain a bunch of non-John-Oliver-related information about what the show is like, and to be honest some of it makes it sound less like the sort of thing I'll enjoy than the Guardian article from last week did. This article has a bit more focus on how it'll be a live music/variety show, which doesn't hugely appeal to me. I'm hoping the show will be more 30 Rock than TGS, you know? More Flight of the Conchords sitcom than just a filmed Flight of the Conchords gig. I mean I'd love to see a Flight of the Conchords concert, but I don't think that alone would make a good TV show.

Either way, I'm sure I'll enjoy the sitcom elements, and I do find Horne Section songs funny, and to be honest even if every other moment of it were shit I would still watch all six episodes just for the John Oliver mystery. Which I guess is the exact intention behind the move of attaching really famous guests to projects like this, and in this case it will 100% worked on me.

[wuggy101]

Hi, this post is all/stuff about me!

· My name is Wuggy(not irl). It is a nickname.

· I identify as girlflux, and I use she/they pronouns.

· I'm under the age of 15.

· I am a lesbian.

· I am ambiamorous(meaning that I don't care if i'm in a monogamous relationship or a polyamorous relationship).

· I'm a big feminist and I'm all for women's rights.

· I'm athiest.

· I love art and will post some of my art here.

¿?¿?¿?¿?¿?¿?¿?¿?¿?¿?¿?¿?¿?¿?¿?¿?¿?¿?¿?¿?¿

My boundaries.

As I said I am under 15 so DO NOT send me anything that is for 18+ people otherwise I will block you.

If you send me ask's about topics like roe v wade, abortion rights, LGBTQIA+ rights, etc, etc, and SPECIFICALLY SAY that you want me and you to debate about that stuff, I will. Ps: leave something for me to know you by that way I don't get people mixed up.

DNI if you are homophobic, transphobic, and/or ableist.

[¡][¡][¡][¡][¡][¡][¡][¡][¡][¡][¡][¡][¡][¡][¡][¡][¡][¡][¡][¡][¡]

These are the fandom's i'm in and who I will write for, but please understand that I am not good at writing, and I will not always update because I lose motivation very easily.

· Helluva Boss/Hazbin Hotel

Stolas, Stella, Octavia, Blitzø, Millie, Moxxie, Luna, Fizzarolli, Asmodues, Verosika Mayday, Charlie, Vaggie, Angle Dust, Husker, Sir Pentious, Alastor, Lucifer, Vox, Velvette, Carmilla Carmine, Rosie, Adam, and Lute.

· Voltron: Legendary Defender

Allura, Lance, Keith, Hunk, Pidge, and Shiro.

· My Little Pony

The mane six, and The princesses.

· My Hero Academia

Class 1A, Class 1B, The teachers, most pro heroes, and the League of Villains.

· Demon Slayer

Almost all of them.

· Death Note

Again, almost all of them.

· She-ra and The Princess of Power

All of them.

· The Dragon Prince

All of them.

· Red Dead Redemption 2

All of them.

60 Seconds game

All characters.

Wednesday 2022

All characters.

Bryce Tankthrust

S.W.A.T

Hondo, Decon, Luca, Street, Tan, and Chris.

Steven Universe

Pearl, Amethyst, Garnet, Peridot, Lapis, and Bismuth.

The Owl House

Luz, Amity, Willow, Gus, Hunter, Camila, Eda, Raine, and Lilith.

The Last of Us(HBO)

Joel, Tess, and Ellie.

Sweet Tooth

Gus, Tommy Jepperd, Bear, Aimee, Rani Singh, Dr. Aditya Singh, Wendy, General Abbot, and Johnny Abbot.

The Promised Neverland

All characters.

Yuri!! On Ice

All characters.

§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§

My rules for writing.

Don'ts

I will not write smut.

Do NOT ask for NSFW pictures of me. If you do, you will be blocked as soon as I see it.

I will NOT do ANYTHING related to incest or pedophile's.

I don't do character x character things, I only do x reader.

I will only do female stuff as that is what I am comfortable doing.

I will not do ANYTHING related to yandere’s. I fucking hate that shit.

Do's

I will write hardcore angst, and maybe gore, IDK.

I will do LGBTQ stuff.

Thank you for reading!

#rules for writing #she ra spop #mha #demon slayer #death note #rdr2 #60 seconds #the dragon prince #mlp #my little pony #vld #helluva boss #hazbin hotel #all about me #boundaries #my boundaries #fandom #wednesday netflix #wednesday 2022 #im a minor #minor #no smut #angst #fluff #fem reader #masc reader #female reader #male reader #gender nuetral reader #x reader

[alarajrogers]

Reviewing Strange New Worlds

Not spoiling the plot per se, but enough spoilers anyway that I’m putting this under a cut. But, generally, I liked it.

So as a major league TOS fan, of course one of the major things I was looking for was continuity with TOS. Can I believe that this is the same Christopher Pike, the same Enterprise, as in Kirk’s time? Does this seem to fit into the same continuity?

Answer: pretty well!

There was a point where they used genetic modifications to make people look like members of an alien race, and I’m like, uh, this destroys the entire plot of multiple stories where Spock’s ears are a problem. Except they accounted for it. Spock’s wonky hybrid genetics cause the thing to fail, very quickly, and with a great deal of pain. I would not be shocked if Kirk basically went, “we are not putting you through that shit, we’re just gonna have you wear a hat.” (Hell, Pike might do that.)

We get to see baby Uhura as a cadet on the bridge, and Dr. M’Benga as the regular doctor. (I’m assuming that Boyce or Piper or whatever his name is comes in later.) M’Benga was brought aboard in TOS as the Vulcan expert in like the second season or something and it was established he’d worked on Vulcan, so if they’re following continuity, he’s not gonna stay as the main doctor; he’s gonna leave to go to Vulcan which allows the doctor from The Cage to show up. And now, M’Benga has a damn good reason to go to Vulcan -- treating Spock will drive him up a wall if he doesn’t know much about Vulcans. Which he probably doesn’t because Spock, if they’re following continuity, is the first actual Starfleet member who’s Vulcan. Every other Vulcan has been on loan from the Vulcan fleet.

I’m not totally thrilled with Chapel -- she’s a civilian, which is good because she’s supposed to be at this point, but her personality is off. Chapel was originally pretty cool and aloof; this one is too extroverted and energetic to feel right to me. Number One -- Una -- also seems off; originally she was a very aloof and unemotional person, and they took that trait and grafted it onto Vulcans. This version seems like a perfectly normal human. It’s the temporary Number One who becomes the security chief, La’an Noonien-Singh, who seems to have the personality that classic Number One had. She has a backstory with terrible trauma, but also given her name I bet she’s hiding that she’s genetically engineered, esp. because over in Picard we just got confirmation that the originator of the Soong family line did in fact work on Khan.

The events of Discovery are still echoing through this story. Pike is haunted by his vision of his own death. Spock is mourning his sister. Robert April, who’s an Admiral now but in the cartoon was established to be the first captain of Enterprise, doesn’t have clearance to know what happened to Discovery until plot reasons demand he find out.

And we finally have some answers about Spock and T’Pring! They actually seem very much in love, right now, and we have 100% on screen confirmation that Vulcans who are not in pon farr and not undergoing weird mental issues do in fact fuck.  But it is pretty obvious where it’s gonna go wrong. T’Pring, for all that she is Vulcan, has entirely human jealousy of Spock’s work. Also, she seems pretty horny for a Vulcan. I feel like she is secure enough in her Vulcan identity to be driven by emotion and just use Vulcan language to put a veneer of logic on it. And her makeup job was on point. Many of these characters, because fashions have changed in 55 years, don’t dress or style anything like they used to. (I want Uhura to grow her hair so bad. Poor baby girl has a buzz cut.) But T’Pring, they went back to TOS and copied the makeup job.

General Order Number One turns into the Prime Directive because Pike is willing to play fast and loose with it, for good reasons. I am so glad to see Star Trek getting over the religious obsession with following the Prime Directive to the point where it’s okay to deny asylum seekers or let planets blow up because of events that could be fixed without them ever knowing about it. Berman, Piller and Braga seemed almost psychotically obsessed with the Prime Directive and kept making their characters make highly immoral decisions based on it -- even in Enterprise where it doesn’t fucking exist yet! Oh man, I missed TOS-era take on it.

And there’s something regarding a Lieutenant Kirk that I won’t spoil, but it was fun. And not what I expected.

#strange new worlds #star trek

[frankpanioncube]

All I have to say about today is:

On the one hand: Today was a day from hell. I mean. I was really pulling for Dr. Singh to be working from home and it looked so so so fucking promising because it’d be quiet and I had to go and open my big fat trap and say I was looking forward to a day of quiet where I get to sit down and just clean my desk off. ...yeah - I admitted it - I jinxed the FUCK out of that. Also. A) I did indeed get my desk cleaned off and B) when I had my dr’s appt. yesterday - one of the tasks was doing was a flowchart restructuring got reassigned to the new lead Ops manager (It wasn’t a super high priority thing but the point was to just see the structure) and she cornered me at one point and applogized. I asked ‘what for?’ She said “Well I thought you were the secretary. Just that.” I said - “Executive Assistant is the official title, Secretary’s a bit of part of the job though and I do sit up front, I tend to not mind it so much, though I know I say ‘fuck’ a lot when I have to shuffle priorities on the fly and man I’m sorry if I sound short if I have to do things like get paper and pens and whathaveyou’ And she was like ‘No no, I have been watching you and I know and I have LITERALLY no idea how you do it, and when we came to the department flow chart, when we got to your part in the flow chart, he gave the title as ‘Executive Assistant’ and then instead of the list of jobs that for everyone else he just sincerely said with no pretense: “Winter makes sure everything happens.” I pretty well both was in a single breath like “Hell yeah I do.” and flattered and just had a moment of laughter in an otherwise horrible day and it might be the best indirect compliment I’ve ever gotten.

But also today was fucking shit.

#work shit #shit #also fuck #i know I'm damn good at my job my dudes

[reginaldqueribundus]

having a fun friday looking back at some of my star trek tags

#big riker milkers

#every morning quark's wardrobe chose violence

#bi riker or 'biker' if you will is much more important

#i mean riker was on a klingon ship for 0.005 seconds and a klingon woman announced she was going to jump his bones

#riker was tonguing worf's ridges as soon as he heard the words 'men kiss'

#and he used worf's strap-on to do it

#everybody who meets picard ends up with a dead wife

#suck on that jean luc

#it wasn’t his obsidian order implant it was the aggravation of having to watch quark mix horizonal stripes with leopard print day after day

#'hello luffy my name is elim garak and i work for cp9'

#w-when will Bashir-senpai notice me??

#ah yes better give myself the most magnum dong in the quadrant

#so now on top of everything else the bajoran vedek assembly is excommunicating sisko for blasphemy

#i thought 'why are all these clones of mccoy surrounding jim kirk as he pees

#worf i'd like you to meet the woman who fucked me to death

#GIVE. WORF. A JETPACK.

#they probably hooked the orb of time up to the holomatrix so they could go back and fight khan noonien singh or something

#cbs please give us a miniseries about molly and kyoshi o'brien dealing with their family curse

#imagine being trapped in the delta quadrant and the only version of cats you have access to is the 2019 movie

#when u order ur captain picard from wish

#not that i give af what gene thinks

#after all we got to see all of its terrible 1960s takes on gender

#some discussion of michael that isn't just blatant racism

#dr. b's foot fetish strikes again

#how the hell did voyager still manage to have more lines by men???

#the *real* miracle tech of star trek isn't the transporters or warp drive#it's their flawless voice recognition systems

#yeah but you also got your ass whooped by 2 ferengi carrying medieval swords

#star trek is absurd enough it doesn't need a giant buddha running starfleet thank you very much

#she was a wagon#(she had wheels you see)

#some people just see a lizard with marc alaimo's voice and go bug wild#and that's valid

#that awkward moment when your former boss killed your new boss's wife#while possessed by robo zombies

#the captain looks at me funny because i'm the reincarnation of his recently deceased best friend#my past life's klingon ex-husband gets upset if i try to date#and OH YEAH there's a murderer in my head advising me to kill people with this prototype teleportation rifle

#i too must acknowledge that problematic outfit yes but also seven very beautiful hnnngh

#they fight all the time but they also consider it foreplay so like? i guess they're just constantly flirting with each other 24/7

#has like 30 planets that are all identical to earth except everyone is gangsters nazis etc#and aliens who die if they don't get laid every 7 years#don't take them too seriously

#disco misses the mark in some ways#but holy god can we talk about *that* instead of your crippling fear of feminism#please i just want to have one (1) conversation about the show that doesn't involve the word 'sjws'

#i'm a vulcan kinny now i guess

#michael singing 'let it go' as she flies around in her angel suit

#tilly hitting osyraa with a frying pan

#poor sweet neelix would just go see the funny singing cat movie with zero clue that he's supposed to mock it or hate it

#LET HIM HAVE WEIRD TENTACLE SEX YOU COWARDS

i cannot choose a favourite

#star trek #my tags #will riker #worf #julian bashir #ezri dax #quark #elim garak #a post by me™ #sam rambles about star trek again

[joaquinwhorres]

Give Thanks (Bucky Barnes x OC)

SUMMARY ››››› Bucky Barnes has a list of names--amends he needs to make. When he gets to M. & L. Kaminski, he finds the amends process a bit more...difficult than it should be. 

WORD COUNT ››››› 1,700-ish

WARNINGS ››››› language

A/N ››››› Oh hey, look at me jumping on that Falcon and the Winter Soldier trend. 

Bucky stood outside of the door, staring at the wreath of brightly colored fabric leaves, a small wooden sign hanging in the center with the words Give Thanks looping across it. 

He doubted there was going to be much thankfulness for him on the other side of the door. 

He shifted his weight from one foot to the other.

This was supposed to be getting easier. Dr. Raynor told him it would get easier. 

But for someone who hated bullshit so much, she really spent far too much time talking out of her ass. Because this wasn't easy. 

Easy would be surreptitiously wiring a million dollars into each of their bank accounts from the HYDRA accounts he still had access to.

Easy would be taking out anyone who had been involved in the decision to give him the order. 

Easy would be breaking the damn rules. 

The rules aren't meant to make your life easy, James. They're meant to disconnect you from the Winter Soldier. That's the whole point of making amends, isn't it? 

He'd give anything to get her damn voice out of his head. 

Bucky propelled himself up the front porch steps before he could change his mind. Like he had last yesterday. 

He rapped on the front door, accidentally knocking the wreath sideways as he went to pull his hand away. Instinctively, he reached out to right it, centering the sign and taking his hands away slowly to avoid a repeat of the situation. Bucky checked over his shoulder, half expecting Sam's stupid little robot to Zoom into view with Sam cackling and making some dumb quip about metal butterfingers. But Redwing wasn't there. The only other person outside was an old man mowing his lawn in a dingy white undershirt and grey sweatshorts. Bucky's lip curled in disgust before turning back to the door--the sound of locks clicking out of place putting him on alert. 

"Hello?" 

Bucky blinked, his eyes meeting those of the woman before him. Her eyes were striking, pinning him to the spot and pushing all semblance of thought out of his head. They were a light brown--taupe almost, standing out brightly in contrast to her long, full eyelashes. 

"Can I help you?"

Bucky blinked, nodding at her. Right. He was here for a reason. Not to stand like some teenage boy who'd just seen the girl next door for the first time. 

"I'm looking for Mina Kaminski."

"You found her." 

He blanched. "You're Mina Kaminski?" 

The look of vague curiosity that had been gracing features markedly shifted into a look of annoyance. "Believe it or not, people who look like me aren't all named Singh or Patel" 

Fuck this. He needed to get out of here. There was no way he could have this conversation now. 

"Still want to talk to me?" She asked, eyebrows arched and arms folded across her chest. 

No. 

Sam's laughter echoed in his head, as if he'd been here to witness the exchange. And that's why he stayed. Out of spite. 

He nodded. "My name is James "Bucky" Barnes and--"

"Wait a second," she held out a hand and raised an eyebrow on him. He did as she asked, stopping mid-sentence with a sinking feeling in his gut. "Bucky Barnes as in Captain America and Bucky Barnes?"

He nodded, resigned to the fact that this was going to be his worst attempt at amends yet. "Yeah." 

"Well," she breathed, dropping her arms. "If I'd known I was meeting an Avenger at my door, I might have put on some pants." 

His eyes ran down from her face, noticing for the first time that she wore a dressing robe that barely swept the tops of her knees. Her bare knees.

His mouth opened as if he had even the faintest clue how to respond to this and then his jaw moved up and down for a new second as if the motion of talking would bring words. While it didn't muster an apology or some other decent thing to say, he did manage to utter a single word: "Shit."

She snorted at the reaction before smiling for the first time and shaking out her long dark hair, waves tousled together from having probably just woken up. "If you want to come in and wait, I'll go get changed."

He shook his head. "I can wait out here."

She was still smiling. Probably because she realized he was far more pathetic up close. "Suit yourself, but there's eggs inside."

"I'm good," he said, forcing himself to give a tight smile that didn't reach his eyes. She nodded, leaving the door open behind her as she disappeared inside the house--as if he'd change his mind.

He should leave right now. Turn around and come back a different day when he could at least function like a mostly human being. Bucky ran a hand through his hair, scratching the back of his head. 

The quick, sharp sound of pattering bare feet broke his stream of thought, as another girl came to the door, standing before him with her hands on her hips. "We were having breakfast, you know," the girl announced, her voice dripping with sass. "Now we have to wait until she's done talking to you. And I'm starving." 

Bucky raised an eyebrow. "Shouldn't you be….not talking to strangers?"

"Shouldn't you be eating breakfast?" she countered.

"It's ten in the morning; I ate already."

"We were supposed to have breakfast an hour ago. But Ravi--"

"Rocio, leave Bucky Barnes alone," Mina's voice called from elsewhere. 

Before he could fully process how odd it was for him to use his name, the little girl's hands dropped from her hips and she stared up at him, mouth agape and eyes comically wide. 

"You're Bucky Barnes?" she asked, her small voice awed. 

He nodded with a deep sigh and another forced smile. 

"What happened to your hair?"

"Got a haircut," he shrugged.

She furrowed her brow at him, her little eyes peering intently at his face. He wasn't sure the last time someone had looked him in the eyes this long. Nobody except Steve had looked him in the eyes since he made it out. The corner of his mouth twitched up. She nodded at him, having composed herself so her little face was serious once more. "I like this better."

"Thanks." He couldn't keep the amusement from his voice. He didn't even really try. 

A thought seemed to hit her, lighting up her whole face with excitement. "Wait right here. Don't move. Promise."  He nodded again and she raised her eyebrows at him, giving him a stern look. 

"I promise," he said, clearly stating each word.

She nodded at him. "Ok. Good." And then she turned and ran into the house, her feet making far more sound than they should for someone of her size.

Mina reappeared shortly thereafter with a faint smile on her lips, dressed in a copper colored sweater and jeans. "Sorry. You're her favorite."

"She's cute." 

What an idiotic thing to say. 

"Wish I could take credit," Mina said, shaking her head. "She's my sister's. I'm just the babysitter on duty."

There were some more sounds of scampering and Rocio was back at the door wearing a long black satin glove, reaching about halfway up her bicep. There were lines streaked across it in gold marker to make it look like it was made of metal plates. 

"I made an arm like yours!" she announced, almost whacking Mina in the stomach as she extended her arm out for him to see. 

He couldn't believe what he was seeing. He'd seen Halloween costumes for sale and shirts with one of the sleeves modeled after his arm, and pictures of guys with an arm wrapped in tinfoil. All of them had been with his old arm--his silver one with the red star. The arm that belonged to Him. An arm made to invoke fear. 

This was the arm of a protector. 

She deserved more of a reaction than a small, breathy, "Wow." 

"Will you sign it?" Her eyes got even bigger if possible, and Mina started to shake her head, bending over to talk to the little girl,  but Bucky stopped her. 

"You got a marker?"

"I'll go find one!" Rocio disappeared again, leaving him and Mina alone on the doorstep. She was closer this time, and he could hear her talking to herself and rustling through different drawers. 

Mina turned her attention from her niece back onto Bucky. "So, why is Bucky Barnes on my doorstep?"

"I uh--when does your sister get home?" he asked, eyes focused in the direction of Rocio's sounds. He swallowed, tearing his eyes away and back up to hers. "I should probably tell both of you...together."

The playful amusement that had been on her face disappeared as she stared at him, as if trying to see inside his head. Like she would want to see what was inside of his head. 

"She'll be here around three." 

He nodded, saved from a response by Rocio's re-appearance, waving a silver sharpie in the air. She offered it to him, and he plucked it out of her hand, taking hold of her toothpick of an arm in one hand and signing his name on the inside of her bicep. Where she could hide the signature if she wanted to.

Bucky handed the marker back to her as Rocio held her arm out, trying to catch sight of his name. 

"Rocio," Mina prodded, gently. 

"Thank you!"  she chirped, before turning and literally skipping back inside. "Ravi--look!"

He liked her.

"That was really kind of you," Mina said, warmly. "I think you just made her year." 

He shrugged. 

"Although, I have a feeling that this is all she's going to talk about for the next week," Mina sighed, shaking her head. "Anyway, Leela will be back around three if you want to come back then and share whatever secret serious news is it that you need to tell us together." Her voice was teasing, and Bucky's mouth lifted into a smirk.

"I'll be back then." 

"Great," she smiled politely. "See you then." 

He nodded, wishing her goodbye before turning down the stairs.

So much for getting easier.

#bucky barnes #fatws #bucky barnes x oc #bucky barnes x f!oc #bucky barnes x desi!oc #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes drabble #james buchanan barnes #james bucky barnes #fatws fic #marvel #marvel fic #avengers #avengers fic #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes smut #(<< eventually) #winter soldier #tfatws

[airyairyaucontraire]

hold the fuck up

if Dr Strange's "make people forget Peter Parker is Spider-Man" spell going wrong started summoning people from other universes who knew Peter Parker was Spider-Man

a) why did it summon Tobey Maguire and not Kirsten Dunst

b) when he tried to fix it by casting a "make people forget Peter Parker altogether" spell DID THAT AFFECT EVERYONE IN OTHER UNIVERSES ALSO

c) does Maguirederman have to go home and RE-INTRODUCE HIMSELF TO HIS WIFE

god what a stupid spell

Okay, you remember in the Diana Wynne Jones book Witch Week, set in a grim boarding-school in a world where witchcraft is real and illegal in the 1980s, one of the boys who is just discovering he's a witch, Charles Morgan, decides to take revenge on the popular boy Simon Silverson (who has humiliated him for being a weirdo) by casting a spell with the words "Simon Says, Simon Says, whatever Simon says is true," thinking this will inconvenience Simon but actually initially makes him more popular because it looks like he can grant wishes, but then the spell starts causing chaos because Simon doesn't understand how it works and starts saying things that really mess life up - like he jokingly says "I've got the Golden Touch!" and therefore immediately he has, with all the pitfalls THAT had for Midas - and Charles' friend Nirupam Singh tries to undo it by making Simon say, "Nothing I say will come true from now on," but as the enchanter Chrestomanci points out when he arrives to clean up the mess, this only reverses the direction of the spell, which is incredibly powerful because having no proper mentoring or education in magic Charles has no idea of how strong and gifted a witch he is, and could potentially unmake the world depending on what Simon says -

it feels like THAT kind of mess in the making.

By the way, I adore Witch Week. I first read it when I was sick in bed with a vomiting bug and my mother brought home some library books for me. It was the first book by Diana Wynne Jones I had ever read and it captured my imagination with a joyful intensity - I forgot I felt sick while I was reading it. It was also the first story that introduced me to the idea of a multiverse and parallel, similar but different worlds. I warmly recommend it.

#mcu #spiderman no way home #dwj #tangentially

[dirtyhelen]

with you, a girl could get bolder (i just wanna be a little bit closer) - part two

PART TWO: i’m in your head now, from every second now Series Masterlist Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader Rating: Mature Featuring: Angst; Fluff; No Additional Warnings Words: 7894 Summary: So, you had sex with a co-worker under the influence of a super-powered aphrodisiac. What do you do now? A/N: First of all, BIG thank you to everyone who liked/replied/reblogged Part 1!! Honestly overwhelmed by how lovely you all are 🤗 Second of all, there is no smut in this part so if you wanna skip this one and catch up on Part 3 (which does have smut) I totally get it and you will receive no judgment from me!! Sorry for the wait on this one, Part 3 won’t take this long I promise! ________________________________________________________________

You sleep for a long time, deep and dreamless, and wake to the hot midday sun streaming in through your open curtains. You’d been so out of it the night before you hadn’t even bothered to shut them. For a moment or two it feels like a normal day, albeit a lazy one. Like sleeping in on Sunday and waking up easy and refreshed. You reach for your phone to check the time when recollection kicks in, reminding you exactly why you’re in bed at noon on a Friday, stripping away any feelings of peace or rest. You want to stay in bed, bury yourself under the covers until you die. Or at least until someone from the compound reaches out to you, but there’s too much nervous energy thrumming under your skin, making you restless and jittery and you finally give in and leave the warm cocoon of your blankets. You spend the day at home, stress-cleaning your entire apartment and stress-eating your entire fridge, vacillating between panic and calm. One minute you’re stuffing your face with week-old stir-fry and checking your phone with every mouthful; the next you’re elbow-deep in dishwater, resigned to your fate – whatever it may be. In worried moments, you can’t imagine how you can possibly go back to the compound after everything that’s happened. How can you discuss schedules and mission reports when everyone you work with knows you got railed by an Avenger on one of the jets they use to fly around saving the world? How can you face Bucky again? Even if he doesn’t blame you for what happened, he’s bound to have some negative feelings about the whole thing. About sleeping with you. It’s not like you’d been friends before. Not like he’s been harbouring secret romantic feelings like you have. If Bucky’s harbouring any secret feelings about you, they’re probably feelings of annoyance and dislike. What if every time he looks at you now he’s reminded of how you begged, needy and naked and pathetic, for him to fuck you? What if he’s disgusted by you? Somehow that’s the worst thought of all. That the first person – the only person – to have seen your body laid bare, to have touched you in the most intimate ways possible might be repulsed, not by what happened, but because it happened with you. It’s a thought you try not to dwell on for long, but you come back to it over and over throughout the day. Each time, shame and self-loathing and heartache flood your body until you force yourself to think about something else. To eat something else, clean something else. You remind yourself there’s no point worrying about things that might never happen. You’ll only have to endure the reactions from Bucky and the team if you actually go back to work, which might not be an option anymore. No one’s reached out to you all day – no calls, no emails, no texts – and the radio silence has you fearing the worst. That no one has reached out because they’re busy working on your termination paperwork. As the hours slip by, those moments of calm get fewer and further between. By the time you’ve eaten all there is to eat, cleaned all there is to clean, and paced what feels like a hundred miles across the length of your apartment it’s nearly midnight and the only messages you’ve gotten all day are promotional emails and a meme from one of your friends back home. You wish you could talk to her, tell her about everything and get another perspective, but the ironclad NDA you signed on your first day of work rules out telling pretty much anyone other than the Avengers and their support staff – none of whom you want to talk about this with. If nothing else, at least your nervous energy has burned off, leaving you drained and eager to sleep for another twelve – or twelve thousand – hours. But despite your exhaustion, sleep doesn’t come any easier than the night before. You toss and turn for hours it seems, and when you do sleep, it’s light and fitful. You wake early on Saturday morning, feeling no more relaxed than when you first shut your eyes. +++ After another morning alone in your apartment with no news, you think you’re going to go insane soon. You’ve drafted a dozen emails to Maria Hill, to the head of R&D, even one to Steve, but can’t bring yourself to hit send on any of them. Trying to find the line between professional concern and desperate pleading proves to be very difficult. You’ve just started yet another message to Maria – since she coordinates all Avengers operations (including the one that landed you in this situation) – when your phone rings. It’s such a surprise after the silence of the last two days that you’re frozen for a moment before you scramble for your phone, almost dropping it in a mug of lukewarm tea in your haste. A glance at the screen reveals it’s Maria herself on the line, as if summoned by all your unfinished emails. Knowing her background and capabilities, you wouldn’t be surprised if she somehow has seen them… Brushing away that uncomfortable thought, you take a breath and answer the call, trying your best for a confident and casual, “Hello?” Characteristically brusque, Maria wastes no time getting straight to the point. “Can you come to the compound this afternoon? The research half of R&D has an update for you and I figured we should talk, too.” “Uh—” you start, wondering how to give a firm fuck no while still being agreeable and cooperative. Luckily, Maria picks up on the reason for your hesitance. “Right, that would probably be uncomfortable for you. We’ll come to you. Three o’clock?” she offers. “Three is good?” It’s not like you have anything else going on. “Great. I’m supposed to call Secretary Ross at three and I do not want to. See you then.” And with that, the line goes dead. Maria has very little patience for pleasantries, you’ve learned. +++ At three o’clock sharp there’s a knock at your door. You open it up to find Maria waiting outside with a middle-aged woman carrying a black medical bag. You vaguely remember seeing her face among the half dozen or so you saw during the debrief after the jet. Maria says hello and makes the necessary introductions. “This is Dr. Sakina Singh,” she says, face expressionless. “She’s from R&D. You might remember her from –” “The extremely intrusive round of questions I asked you two days ago,” Dr. Singh interjects with a grimace, looking about as uncomfortable as you feel. This probably isn’t what she imagined she’d be doing when she accepted the offer to work with the Avengers. You laugh politely if a little awkwardly. “I remember. Nice to meet you, officially?” She smiles and you shake hands. “Can we come in?” Maria asks, reminding you they’re still standing in your open doorway while cold February air blows into your apartment. “Right! Sorry!” You bring them through to your kitchen, gesturing for them to sit at the table and making the obligatory offers of tea and coffee. Maria and Dr. Singh take one side of the table and it makes you feel a bit like you’re about to have the worst job interview of your life. The fact that Maria was actually at your last job interview doesn’t help. You start to fidget with your hands, relieved the table hides the worst of your nerves. Dr. Singh starts off the proceedings. “I mostly just wanted to check in and see if you’ve experienced any other symptoms, anything out of the ordinary, and to give you a bit of an update on what we’ve found out about the chemical you and Sergeant Barnes ingested,” she says, looking more at-ease now the small-talk portion of the conversation is over and she can focus on the science of it all. “I feel normal,” you reply quietly. “No symptoms since Thursday night.” She nods. “That’s good, and consistent with what Sergeant Barnes reported.” Even the mention of Bucky’s name is enough to have your face flooding with heat. Your hands clench, fingernails pressing crescents into your palms. She carries on, explaining what she and her team were able to determine about the chemical. It’s nothing ground-breaking or unexpected, not after having experienced its effects first-hand. A super-powered aphrodisiac with no discernable purpose beyond making people horny. Just the sort of thing you’d expect to uncover in some mad scientist’s underground lab. Why try curing cancer when you can make people fuck instead? “It provokes extreme sexual arousal while simultaneously decreasing inhibitions,” Dr. Singh explains. “It appears to be neutralized by the chemicals released during orgasm. More than that we don’t know. And since the only uncontaminated sample of the chemical was destroyed, it may be all we will know. But the good news is we don’t see there being any lingering physical impacts, though I would like to take another blood sample from you to be sure it’s completely out of your system.” You consent to the blood sample and she heads back to the compound after it’s done, leaving you and Maria alone at your kitchen table. She’s been nearly motionless this entire time, watching you and Dr. Singh converse, but offering nothing in the way of commentary or even acknowledgment. If you didn’t know better you’d think she wasn’t paying attention at all.  But you do know better, and you have no doubt she could repeat word-for-word everything that was said since you opened the door half an hour ago. Regardless, the stony-faced reticence is unsettling and gives you no clue as to how your conversation with her is going to go. And it’s this conversation you’re really worried about. After a moment of silence that feels endless, Maria lets out a big, heaving sigh, her shoulders dropping as she relaxes into her seat. “Well, that was awkward.” Oh. That’s how your conversation is going to go. It’s so not what you expected her to say and yet so completely like her that a shocked giggle forces its way out of your mouth. She grins at you across the table, but you feel your own smile fade. “God, Maria, I’m so sor—” “If you’re about to apologize, so help me God,” she says, with a look on her face that dares you to argue with her. “I apologize, sincerely, on behalf of myself and the entire Avengers organization. This shouldn’t have happened. We have a dangerous chemicals procedure for a reason, for fuck’s sake,” she adds, with a stormy expression that has you pitying the poor techs who loaded the jet. “I mean, it’s no one’s fault, really. I’m sure that case wasn’t purposely unlatched.” You don’t want anyone to get in trouble for this. You feel guilty enough already about Bucky. “Probably not,” Maria concedes. “But regardless, we’re not treating this as business as usual. This isn’t SHIELD. It won’t be swept under the rug and dismissed without investigation.” You’ve read a handful of the documents Natasha leaked during the fall of SHIELD. You can only imagine how many lab accidents were concealed; how many weren’t accidents at all. It’s a dark line of thinking with no end in sight so you change the subject, asking a question that’s been on your mind for a while. “I wanted to ask – who knows about what happened? I know you can’t hide it, obviously, but –” you shrug, wondering exactly how many people you’re going to have to avoid eye contact with in the halls, or around town even. Maria nods. “The Security Council has access to all our files and we have to report this as a safety incident, but no names or identifying details are recorded. And we didn’t say two staff members had intercourse on a quinjet,” she adds wryly. “Just that there was a chemical spill and two individuals were affected. The only people who know the details of what happened and to who are me, the Avengers, and Dr. Singh and her staff. And they’ve all been made very clear on what will happen if they breach confidentiality. Believe me, they won’t tell anyone.” You believe her. “Speaking of the Avengers… What’s the mood there? Am I totally fired?” Maria snorts. “Fired? Because of a costly mistake for which the organization takes full responsibility, resulting in you ingesting an unknown chemical compound? No. You’re not fired.” Okay, when she lays it out like that it makes your fears seem ridiculous. Still… “Seriously, Maria. Should I just quit? Or be reassigned? Somewhere I will never have to look at any of the Avengers ever again, maybe?” you ask, with a cringe. “Are you concerned it will be awkward for you, or them?” “Well, both. But obviously, their feelings would come first in this situation. They’re the Avengers. I'm a secretary.” Maria rolls her eyes at that comment but chooses not to address it. “Well I can’t do anything about your feelings, but I can assure you that you won’t be treated any differently because of this.” You gape at her. “Seriously?” How could they not treat you differently? Maria levels you with a look. “Do you really think this is the strangest thing that has ever happened on that team?” she says, with the distinct air of a woman who has seen and heard too much. You’re not convinced. “Stranger than two of them banging on a quinjet under the influence of a crazy sex drug?” You’re pretty sure if this were the Strange and Unusual Olympics, that would earn you at least a silver medal. Maria doesn’t seem to agree. She straightens her back and takes a breath. “Giant octopus monster in the Thames. That time a wizard transformed Steve into his pre-serum body for a week. Wanda, daily.” She looks at you, eyebrows raised. You have to admit she has a point. “But –” “Last month I walked in on Steve and Sam having sex in a conference room. A couple years ago Barton got wasted during a game of truth or dare and told everyone how much he enjoys getting slapped around by women in leather. There are multiple sex tapes of Tony on the internet.” She pauses, making sure she has your full attention. “Dealing with weird shit and knowing way too much about the people you work with? Pretty much the two things that bind the Avengers together. Welcome to the team.” Once again, she manages to make things seem so simple. You want to believe her. You almost do believe her. There’s just one thing… “What about Bucky? Maybe everyone else can brush it off, but this happened with him. He can’t possibly want to work with me anymore.” “Fair enough,” Maria says. “But I actually spoke to Barnes this morning. He made it very clear he did not want this to impact your employment in any way.” She shrugs. “Like I said. If it’s not a problem for you, it’s not a problem for them. They’re professionals. Well, mostly.” You nod. This conversation has been enlightening – in a few ways – and Maria’s given you a lot to think about. Also a lot to very purposely not think about (Clint! And presumably Laura!). Maria leans back in her seat, considering you for a long moment as you try to process what she’s told you and come up with some sort of response. The silence stretches on until finally, she speaks. “I’ve had a lot of weird, bad sex in my life.” You stare at her, wide-eyed and mouth agape. Luckily, she doesn’t wait for a response. “I know what happened to you wasn’t just a shitty hookup and you have every right to feel however feel about it.” She says, for the first time looking less than perfectly at ease. She takes her time with her next words. “But I guess what I’m trying to say is it doesn’t have to count. Sex doesn’t change who you are. It doesn’t have to mean anything unless you want it to.” You nod dumbly, not sure what to say. You feel the sudden intense need to be alone for a while so you can sit with all the new thoughts running through your mind. Maria nods back, face settled again into cool composure. “Okay, no more feelings talk. The point is: you’re welcome to come back to work anytime. FRIDAY’s taking on as much as she can, but an AI is only capable of so much. Even that one. Think about it.” +++ You do think about it. You spend the rest of the day thinking about it. You go for a long walk in the crisp winter air, thinking about it. You journal, thinking about it. You Google “I slept with a co-worker, what now?” in various combinations and read several unhelpful articles, thinking about it. After hours of introspection, what you come up with is this: you love your job. You love your life. You’ve always been cautious, careful to a fault. Never a risk-taker. Until a few months ago, you lived in the same town you were born in. Happy enough, but not exactly satisfied. Until you applied for this job. Until you packed up your life, left behind everything you’d ever known to start over someplace new. And you’ve never regretted it. You finally felt like you had a place where you belonged. Over the time you’ve worked with the team, they’ve become friends, not just-workers and you love getting to know the real people behind the glossy media personas the rest of the world is familiar with. You love the sense of pride you feel, knowing the work you do matters, contributes – even in its own small way – to something as unfathomably huge and worthwhile as world peace. You don’t want to give that up. You can’t. The sex thing? Yeah, that sucks. You may not have dreamt of rose petals and scented candles, but you were pretty determined there’d be love and commitment involved. A partner, not just a person. But Maria is right. Sex doesn’t change who you are. Virginity is a goddamn social construct and this doesn’t have to matter unless you want it to. You had sex for the first time with someone you have feelings for, someone you respect. And maybe the circumstances (weird sex drug, floor of airplane) were less than perfect, but you can’t deny the sex itself felt good (amazing). Better than a random guy that couldn’t locate the clitoris with a GPS and flashing neon lights. You feel like you’ve been given permission to let this go. To let it be something that happened, but not something that defines you. Just one moment out of millions. You know it’s not that simple. That one illuminating conversation isn’t enough to silence the part of you that still feels ashamed, embarrassed, and heartbroken, but it's a start. A new perspective and one that has you feeling a hell of a lot better than you did just a few hours ago. There’s just one roadblock in this journey of self-enlightenment to being a mature, grown-ass woman who is handling this like a fucking champ – Bucky. But if what Maria said is true, and you have no reason to think she’d lie to you, then maybe that’s not such a roadblock after all? If everyone, even Bucky, can go on as usual (whatever that is with the Avengers), then you’re basically in the same place you were before all this: hiding your unrequited feelings for a man that doesn’t think about you at all. Just with the added aspect of remembering what his body felt like on top of you, inside you. How his tongue felt in your mouth, and on your… Anyway! You’ve decided. You’re going back to work and it’s going to be totally fine. You’re all going to be adults about this. Having drug-fueled sex on a plane is basically the Avengers equivalent of getting too drunk at the office Christmas party anyway, and many an administrative assistant before you has done that and come out the other side. You call Maria and inform her you’ll be back at the compound on Monday, and you can’t help but think there’s a little note of pride in her crisp acknowledgment.  +++ Sunday passes in a blur of nervous anticipation. By the end of the day, you’re nearly crawling out of your skin, desperate to get the embarrassing part over so you can move on with your life and dreading it at the same time. When you wake up Monday morning there’s a significant part of you that wants to call the whole thing off and stay in your apartment for the rest of your life. You remind yourself you did nothing wrong, that you have every right to your job and your life, but apprehension only grows as you get ready for work and begin the drive to the compound. As the heavy metal gates slide shut behind your car you’re suddenly overwhelmed with the feeling you’ve made a terrible mistake. But after a brief almost-breakdown in the parking garage, you manage to pull yourself together and get out of the car. You make your way to your office in the Avengers’ private wing without running into anyone other than security and custodial staff. It is eight in the morning after all, and it’s not like the Avengers usually congregate outside your office like a welcoming committee, so you’re not sure why you felt like you’d be seeing them all at once. They might not even all be in the building – you’ll have to get Maria to update you on any new missions that have been assigned while you were off. You pass an hour or two catching up on emails and reaching out to a few different contacts around the compound, but no one on the team. The first person you see who knows why you really were off is Sam, making a smoothie in the kitchen when you come in for your morning tea. You steel yourself for the ensuing awkwardness, but it doesn’t come. Sam doesn’t behave any differently than he normally would, acknowledging you with a friendly smile tossed over his shoulder as he prepares ingredients. “Morning,” he greets, handing you a mug from the cupboard over his head as you fill up the electric kettle. “Thanks.” Sam nods, immediately launching into a story about his weekend that has you almost in tears from laughing so hard. “I don’t know why you’re laughing,” he scolds playfully. “I was stuck in that tree for like ten minutes while Tony took pictures, even though it's his fault I ended up there since he designed the damn wings. Anyway, how was your weekend?” he asks with an expression of exaggerated innocence. If it was anyone else it might feel rude or intrusive or even mean. But Sam, all easy charm and genuine warmth, has a way of making people take themselves less seriously, and you find you’re smiling despite yourself as his smirk splits into a cheeky grin. You manage to hold eye contact for a couple of seconds before you’re both laughing uncontrollably, the utter absurdity of the situation suddenly hitting you as actually kind of funny instead of completely tragic. “Yeah, it was alright. Just hung around the house, really,” you tease, catching your breath, and the conversation seamlessly turns to what you’ve both been watching on Netflix. You’re still smiling when you sit back down at your desk. You know there are bound to be awkward moments ahead, but the relief of knowing things can be normal, that the awkwardness will pass, has a tension leaving your body you’d been holding onto for days. Over the next couple days as you go about your normal tasks and routines you run into members of the team in ones and twos. Some are more uncomfortable than others – you and Bruce share a particularly stilted exchange until Tony barges into the room – but after the initial acknowledgment, almost everyone carries on like it never happened. Almost everyone, because by the middle of the week there’s still one person you haven’t seen or heard from. Bucky. You aren’t sure if you’re relieved or disappointed. Sure, you’re not exactly eager for that first – almost certainly uneasy – interaction. But at the same time, all you want is to move on and put this behind you and you don’t think you can do that until you’ve seen him. Until you’ve assured yourself he really is okay, and okay working together. The longer you go without seeing him, the more you begin to wonder if he’s really as fine with you being back as Maria said he was. If he truly wasn’t bothered, wouldn’t you have run into him before now? It’s not like Bucky was a social butterfly before, especially not with you, but you work with him in the building where he lives – it’s rare to go this long without at least seeing him in passing, outside of times he’s on a mission. And he isn’t on a mission – you checked. The sense of acceptance you’ve built around what happened on the jet is fragile, and relies almost entirely on knowing Bucky is alright, that he doesn’t blame you, or hate you, or feel disgusted by you. If none of that is true, you can’t move on. At least, not while continuing to work with the team. It wouldn’t be right. Each day, that acceptance weakens as it becomes clear Bucky is intentionally avoiding you. He must be. The agonizing waiting game finally ends on Thursday in a conference room. You’re tidying up after a meeting, gathering pens and water glasses, when Bucky turns the corner into the room, eyes glued to the tablet he holds in front of his face. At least, until he notices the room isn’t empty and his eyes snap to you. You’ve been imagining this moment for days now – seeing Bucky again for the first time. You’ve crafted and perfected so many scenarios of how it might play out – maybe you’ll be cool and aloof, brush it off like it’s no big deal, like you haven’t thought about it at all. Or maybe you’ll crack a joke like Sam would, and Bucky will laugh and tease you back and the tension will be broken and everything will be fine. In the moment, when it actually happens, all you can do is stare. Bucky looks – not well, really, and it squeezes something in your chest to see him this way. You’ve been around him before when he’s having a downswing and it’s not as bad as that, but there are dark circles under his eyes that speak to sleepless nights, and a stiffness in the way he holds himself, as though every muscle is tensed. It makes you want to hold him. To wrap him in your arms until that tension bleeds out of his body. But that’s the last thing Bucky would want, considering you’re likely the source of the tension. Your eyes find his and he holds your gaze for a moment – just a moment. You’re not sure what he sees in your expression, but he clearly doesn’t like it because his brows furrow as he turns on his heel and leaves the room. And just like that, you’re back on the quinjet, naked and trembling on the cold floor as Bucky bolts from the room without looking back. The rejection is clear, unmistakable. You’re fully clothed but you may as well be stark naked for how vulnerable you feel in that moment. You can’t help the tears that gather in your eyes and spill over as you stand there staring at the open door like an idiot. You roughly swipe a hand over your face to brush them away and make a hasty retreat to your office. The day passes in a fog as you try not to break down at your desk. The dam breaks the minute you step through your apartment door as the tears you’ve been holding back for hours come flooding out. You fall to your knees and you know you’re overreacting. You tell yourself it’s probably a misunderstanding. Bucky realized he’d forgotten something. Or maybe he was just surprised to see you, wasn’t ready to talk to you yet and had to leave, but not because he hates you. Your mind clings to the idea, latches onto it like a lifeline, even as your body continues to drown – sadness like physical pain in your chest, throat sore from deep, heaving sobs. You calm down eventually, mind winning out over body at last, but the crying has you feeling a little hollowed out. You fill the space with food and mindless media consumption, telling yourself you’ll feel better after a night of sleep. +++ You do feel better in the morning, thank God. You’ve successfully convinced yourself what happened yesterday had to be a misunderstanding. Maria wouldn’t lie to you about what Bucky said, and honestly, it’s self-centred to think just the sight of you is enough to scare the Winter Soldier out of a room! You head into the office feeling a little uneasy still, but mostly okay. That feeling lasts until lunchtime. You’re taking your lunch break in the common room, eating a sandwich and watching an episode of House Hunters with Natasha. She’s in the middle of a sentence, noting the lack of defensible positions and the overabundance of wood panelling in the mid-century bungalow on-screen when Steve and Bucky enter the room. They’ve clearly just come from the gym, likely looking for a post-workout snack. They amble into the room, playfully shoving at each other as they head for the kitchen. You can hear Alpine trotting in behind them, meowing for the treats she knows she’ll get if Bucky’s in the kitchen. Bucky’s hair is tied up in a messy, damp bun and his t-shirt clings to his torso with sweat, toned muscles on display. Steve’s there too. You see the moment Bucky realizes you’re there partly because you can’t look away from him – the shadows under his eyes are still dark, but his face is flushed and lively from the workout – and also because his step very noticeably falters and the teasing expression is wiped from his face, the colour quickly draining from his cheeks. If yesterday could be brushed off as a misunderstanding, this confirms you were right to fear the worst. Bucky was avoiding you, doesn’t want to be around you. He mumbles something back to Steve you aren’t able to discern and turns back the way he came. Instantly you feel your face heat with shame. Now Bucky can’t stand to even be in a room with you and other people? Exactly how uncomfortable do you make him? Does he think you’ll leap up from the couch and throw yourself at him? You catch Steve and Nat sharing a look out of the corner of your eye, but you have no idea what it means. You feel thoroughly wrong-footed, as though everyone in the room knows something you don’t. Something you probably don’t want to know. They make an effort to gloss over Bucky’s hasty exit, Natasha more successfully than Steve, but you just want to get back to the privacy of your office as quickly as possible so you can ruminate in peace. Or, if not in peace, at least in solitude. Choking down the rest of your lunch in record time, you make your escape – by a different route than Bucky, lest you accidentally cross paths again and he’s forced to jump out a window to escape you. TGIF, you think. +++ That weekend is rough. You journal, you pace, and you think and cry and eat and Google. Finally, you end up spilling your guts to an EAP counsellor (under the guise of a drunken hook-up between co-workers) and you come to the conclusion: fuck James Buchanan Barnes. Yeah, he’s smart and kind and strong and beautiful and maybe you’re a little in love with him, but he is just a man and you have cried over him enough. You didn’t ask for this! You didn’t mean for it to happen! And it’s not like you forced him to have sex with you. It’s not like he was cowering in the corner while you were throwing yourself at him. If anything, you were equally taken advantage of by each other – by that stupid fucking chemical and whatever mad scientist created it! He was the one who said he didn’t want your employment affected by what happened! As though running screaming from the room whenever he sees you doesn’t affect your employment. The least he could do is try to be a little more subtle in his distaste. Whether he finds you unattractive or not he should be able to treat you like a human being – not some sort of leper. And if he can’t do that, he can say it to your face! You don’t deserve this, no matter how Bucky feels about what happened. Which is exactly what you’re going to tell him when you see him on Monday. And you will see him. Bucky Barnes might be an internationally feared former assassin who evaded detection for over seventy years, but you manage his calendar. He’s got a meeting in the morning with PR and you’ll be waiting outside to catch him as soon as they’re done. On God, by noon on Monday, this will be resolved once and for all. +++ Ten a.m. sharp you’re standing outside the PR office suite, reminding yourself why your anger is justified and trying to hold onto the feeling itself. You’re more than a little afraid that the minute you see Bucky you’re going to forget all about confronting him and just start crying. But you didn’t spend hours curating a fuck you, girl power playlist and practicing speeches in the mirror to admit defeat so quickly. You’re standing directly opposite the glass doors, no opportunity for hiding – or for Bucky to hide from you – so you see each other the minute he approaches the door. There’s a flash of surprise on his face, quickly turned to grim resignation as he opens the door. He obviously knows you’re there to see him and he stops outside in front of you. “Hi,” he says, avoiding your eyes and staring at his feet instead. “Hey. Can I talk to you for a minute?” He nods, gesturing down the hall and you follow him a few feet to a small seating area, out of view of any offices. He stands back and finally makes eye contact, looking a little like he’s staring down a firing squad instead of an unarmed civilian in a fuzzy pink cardigan. You take a deep breath, gathering your thoughts and remembering the plan. You ask him the big question. “Do you want me to quit?” Bucky shakes his head almost frantically. “No, I – no,” he says. You stare at him, wait for him to continue speaking but he just stands there, hands in his pockets looking miserable. ‘No.’ That’s all he can say? No? No! Something inside you snaps, your carefully prepared speech dissolving in your mouth like sugar as words start to pour out of you. “Really? Because Maria told me you didn’t want me to be reassigned so I thought we were good. But then you avoided me for days and the two times we did see each other you looked like you were going to be sick and practically ran out of the room, which makes me think you’re definitely not okay with me being here.” “I—” “And like, okay, that’s fine, but I wish you would have just said that? Because I get it, I do. This is super weird and obviously, you didn't want to sleep with me and I know I'm not like, a supermodel or even a JC Penny catalogue model, so yeah, you wish it could have been literally anyone else but you don't have to run away from me like I have some sort of flesh-eating disease, okay?” “That’s—” “Because that really sucks, Bucky. And not just because I’ve had a crush on you forever or because it was my first time but because I actually really just like and respect you as a person and I know you didn’t like me even before all this so maybe you don’t believe me, but I didn’t mean for this to happen. I promise. I would never try to take advantage of you – of anyone – like that and –” “What?” he interjects sharply. It cracks through the air like a whip, finally snapping you out of whatever insanity possessed you to say all that. To say all that. Oh, fuck. “What do you mean crush? Wait, first time?” Bucky’s eyes are wide and he’s staring intently at your face. Your own face burns and your hands shake as you try to come up with something – anything – to say. Thirty seconds ago you couldn’t shut up! The silence stretches unbearably long as Bucky stands there looking at you, waiting for you to answer him. It looks like he’s about to speak again when an alert sounds from both of your phones. “Oh, thank God,” you breathe. It’s the unmistakable tone that signals a drop-what-you’re-doing-and-Avengers-fucking-assemble emergency. You’ve never heard a sweeter sound in your life. Bucky holds your gaze for another moment before he swears and jogs off down the hallway, tossing you a conflicted look over his shoulder as he goes. +++ The emergency turns out to be a false alarm; some new system Tony was working on triggered it accidentally, so you got away from Bucky and nobody died. All in all, a pretty successful day. Except for the part where you confessed your feelings to the man you’ve been crushing on for months and told him he was the first person you’ve ever had sex with. During what was supposed to be a mature, adult conversation where you asserted yourself calmly and professionally instead of projectile word-vomiting like the girl from The Exorcist swallowed a dictionary and spat it back up. If there was ever a chance you and Bucky could move past what happened on the quinjet and co-exist in mutual agreement to never mention it again, it’s gone now. There’s no dramatic breakdown this time, no floods of tears or self-loathing or panic. The last week and a half has been an exhausting roller coaster of emotions and honestly, you just can’t anymore. It is what it is. It happened and there’s no going back. You can’t summon up the energy to freak out. Tomorrow you’ll go to Maria’s office and request a transfer. Maybe the UN has an opening for a secretary in Antarctica. But tonight you will wear flannel pyjamas, eat greasy pizza, and watch the Great British Bake Off, where everything is lovely and nothing hurts. Just as you’ve finished turning your couch into a cozy oasis, laying out your softest blankets and fluffiest pillows, there’s a knock at your door. Right on time. You grab your wallet and open the door, a polite smile on your face for your usual delivery man. But that’s not who’s standing on your porch. It’s Bucky. Pizza box balanced in one hand, the other fussing with his hair. “Hey,” he says, voice soft and almost hesitant. You step back, silently letting him inside and shutting the door behind him. “I didn’t realize you delivered for Ronzoni’s now,” you say, cringing immediately after. Bucky looks at the box in his hand like he forgot he was holding it. “Oh, uh, yeah, I got here the same time as the delivery guy.” “I see that.” He hands you the box and you lay it on the floor behind you. “Thanks,” you tell him awkwardly, eyes fixed on the floor in front of you. “Look, Bucky, I’m really sor—” “I do like you,” he blurts and your eyes flash to his, wide in shock. “What?” Bucky shifts on his feet, stands a little straighter and nods, more to himself than to you it seems. Like he’s steeling himself to face something difficult. “I do like you. I’ve always liked you. Just took me a while to figure it out. It’s been a minute. Haven’t had a crush in about seventy years; I’m rusty,” he says with a sheepish smile, ducking his head and looking at you through his lashes. His smile fades. “And you’re always so nervous around me. I thought maybe you were scared of me. Or hated me, maybe, for everything I did when –” “Oh, Bucky, no,” you can’t help but interrupt, can’t let him finish that sentence. You haven’t really processed anything else he’s said, but you can’t bear the idea of him thinking you blamed him for being abused and controlled for decades. “Yeah, I was a fucking idiot,” he says with a humourless laugh. “I know you’d never – but I didn’t then.” His face softens as he looks at you. “And even though it was ‘cause you were scared of me, I still thought you were so cute when you’d start running at the mouth. Stumbling over your words and getting all embarrassed,” he says, with a fond little smile. You groan, hiding your face behind your hands, thinking of all the times you’ve looking like an idiot in front of him. Bucky chuckles warmly and tugs your hands down but doesn’t let them go, holding them in a loose grip. You can’t believe this is happening. He likes you. He likes you and has liked you for months. He likes you and he’s holding your hands and staring at you with an affection you couldn’t have captured in your wildest fantasies. Bucky’s smile turns a little wistful. “I was so jealous of everyone else. How easy you were with them. I wanted you to be like that with me, all happy and cheeky and –” he cuts himself off. “Then that fucking drug. If there was any doubt about how I felt about you that definitely made it clear. That was something else, doll.” His grip on your hands tightens before he lets them go. “You’re so – that shit you said about not being a model or whatever? I couldn’t care less. You’re perfect,” he says, voice intense. He shakes his head a little, like he’d gotten off track. “And then it hit me. This goddamn revelation for me was probably the worst moment of your life, and I fucking liked it. I felt like a creep, like a fucking monster. And that’s why I avoided you. I thought I was doing you a favour, staying away. It wasn’t ‘cause I hate you or I blame you or anything. Pretty much the opposite.” You laugh softly in disbelief, shaking your head at how wrong you were. How wrong you both were, all this time. “I thought maybe it reminded you of Hydra,” you tell him. “You know, losing control, being forced to do something you didn’t want to – not that I think what we did is the same as being forced to kill people, obviously. I just mean, the principle of it –” Bucky kindly cuts you off. “I know what you mean. But trust me,” he says. “That’s not how I feel. At all. I mean, yeah, that’s not really how I wanted things to go. I hate that that was your first time. I hate that it was my first time I can clearly remember. But I’m glad it was you. What Hydra did to me and what happened to us, what we did together – doesn’t even compare. I don’t regret it.” And finally, with those words, spoken with such undeniable sincerity, you feel the last piece of the puzzle fit into place. Even with everything he’s already said it still felt too good to be true. Like it could be a confession and a rejection at the same time. An acknowledgement that if you’d figured it out sooner you could have been together, but you got the pieces so mixed up that there’s no sorting them out. Better to throw them away and pick a new puzzle. “I don’t regret it either,” you tell him. “I wish it had happened differently, but I’m really, really happy it was you, Bucky.” He looks at you, soft and sweet and a little sad and you can’t help but throw yourself at him, finally giving in to an urge you’ve felt a hundred times, wrapping your arms around his neck. He hugs you back, holding you just as tightly as you hold him. You feel warm and bright and happy, bubbling over with joy that spills out of you with a giggle as you pull back just enough to look him in the face with a dopey grin. “So… you like me?” He laughs, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “Yeah, doll, you been listening?” “I can’t believe you’ve had a crush on me for months. You never speak to me!” Bucky snorts. “Hey, we don’t all let our anxiety spill out our mouths like you.” You glare at him but he does have a point. “That’s fair,” you acknowledge, stepping out of the warm circle of his arms to give him a long look, crossing your arms. “So for months I thought you didn’t like me, and you thought I didn’t like you. And the whole time we were super into each other?” Bucky shoves his hands in his pockets, rocks on his heels, nodding. “Yep.” “Sounds like we’re pretty dumb, huh?” “Sounds like we’re perfect for each other,” he says, leaning in close with a grin. You get a sudden glimpse of the charmer Bucky must have been back in the day and it takes everything you have not to kiss him. “You wanna stay for a while?” you ask. You don’t want him to go yet, but you don’t want to keep standing up in front of your door either. “I’m watching Great British Bake Off. And you did pay for the pizza so it’s technically yours.” “You askin’ me on a date?” You think he means it to come out as flirty and confident, but he says it with a shy, boyish expression that’s somehow so much more attractive. You nod, smiling. “Yeah, I guess so. I wish I wasn’t wearing pyjamas, but…” “Hey, pizza and GBBO? I wish I was wearing pyjamas,” he counters, picking up the pizza and letting you lead the way to the living room where he sets the box down on the coffee table. You sit with Bucky on your couch, sharing a blanket and stuffing your faces as you talk about your favourite Bake Off contestants and it feels right. Feels like the start of something really, really good. And to think, you have an evil, horny scientist to thank for all your current happiness. Welcome to the Avengers. A/N: If you have made it to the end - thank you for reading! This is definitely the piece I struggled with most and I am very open to feedback! This part is so long and so sexless lol so I’m very interested to see how it reads re: pacing, interest, cohesiveness, etc. Feel free to like/comment/reblog and let me know! My ask box is also open to anons if you have feedback but you’re feeling shy! I definitely wanna hone the skill of series-writing as I have a loooooot of longer ideas. Part 3, which will be shorter (I think!) and definitely sexier, will be out in a few days 😚 

#bucky barnes x reader #reader insert #mcu #mcu fanfiction #marvel #marvel fanfiction #series

[hotwings0203]

GOD OK I SENT MY OTHER ASK TOO EARLY.... ANYWAY:

now i can't stop thinking about scumbag!actor AU, where he's one of the most famous, powerful actors in the industry. you're a rookie actress who puts her foot in her mouth & accidentally insults him on a big talk show. now he's silently blacklisted you from the industry, fucking over your career............... and your manager forces you to go to his place to beg for forgiveness............ obviously you know what happens from there LOOOL. i'm imagining big neglect kink/power imbalance vibes.

and then y'all keep hooking up on the DL, and he is awful to you bc he's an insanely famous A-lister and you're a nobody in the industry. ignores you at awards shows, threatens to blacklist you when you piss him off, is condescending about your work. but as time goes on.... y’all genuinely start to fall hard for each other. you’re the first person hes ever felt this comfortable with, and you’ve always looked up to him as an actor.

but then since he’s insecure and terrified that he actually LIKES someone so much, he lashes out at you & gives you the whole, super hurtful “you think you mean anything to me?” spiel. it destroys you. now you’re always quiet and sad around him & can’t look him in the eyes when you’re together. even the threat of blacklisting you from the industry can’t make you act the same towards him. and he grows more and more desperate to get you back, but he can’t form the words to apologize & you’re getting more and more distant.....

hoooly wow i have no creative outlet anymore so this ended up being WAY longer than i expected... anyway tl;dr thank u for showing me kabir singh & shahid kapoor. teehee

YANDERE SHAHID KAPOOR ARC?? IM SO FUCKIN DOWN FOR IT

And could you fuckin imaginneeee like after the lashes out at you and ur all hurt, you start to not look him in the eyes anymore and you can tell it’s driving him crazy cuz you feel his glare on you from across the room😳

Imagine like you go back to your trailer after a shooting set and he’s already there before you can back out the door, he’s slamming the metal shut behind you and towering over your cowering form.

He’s seething down at you, pressuring you to answer “ur such a fucking baby, I barely said anything” and “you avoiding me now? Who said you could do that”

FUCKKKKK RUBI IM SALIVATING