#Do you know how many children I have (genuinely) kindly & politely explained that this goes against the TOS to?? TOO MANY

[foxskip]

CHILDREN STOP USING AO3 LIKE A SOCIAL MEDIA WEBSITE CHALLENGE

[shyestofhearts]

Hi Shy~

Sooo, I have this headcanon that Damian is like this wonderful child prodigy genius. Like, super smart. So smart, that when Bruce tries to enroll him in Gotham academy, they tell him that Damian has tests for college level. Which, Damian just rolls his eyes at, because duh. After discussing it with professionals and yada yada, Damian gets enrolled into college. He’s like, twelve-ish. He is STILL bored in class, and knows most of the information they are trying to teach. His advisor is so sweet and invested into Damian though. And observant. After noticing Damian lack of enthusiasm, he asks Damian what the problem. Nothing interests him, none of his classes.this advisor is an old timer, in my opinion, and has seen so many kids pushed to do things they never wanted to do, and decides he can’t let that happen with Damian. So the Advisor pulls out every department, every major, and goes through it with Damian. After a few hours, because it takes a while to convince Damian that it is alright to do anything he wants, Damian has his majors narrowed down to a few things. Art and pre-med. Damian’s advisor suggests he visit a few of the clubs on campus to really get a feel of what he wants. Thing is, even after going to the students’ art club gallery and one of the pre-med club meetings, neither really speak to him. It’s a Saturday night, and he’s alone on campus. Damian is about to call Alfred, when a student from Damian’s organic chemistry class spots him.

“Damian!” Jace, a slightly round student with soft curly hair smiles at Damian. “Are you here for the show?”

“Show?” Damian scowls?

“Yeah, the fashion show. This year’s theme is sustainability,” Jace smiles. They one of the few people who never ogled at Damian for being a Wayne or looked down on him for his age. They are just genuinely nice, and Damian knows that.

“I didn’t know we had a fashion show,”

“Really? I swear I thought I mentioned it,” Jace says, surprised. Jace may have mentioned that, but Damian probably was zoned out during the time.“Tickets are $15, if you wanna come”

“Oh,” Damian frowns, “I used all the money I brought with me for the art gallery and lunch earlier,” He says, cursing internally for not bringing more cash with him.

“If you want to go, I’ll cover you.” Jace smiles, “Think of it as payment for help on our last exam” Damian would usually say no, but Jace is just so nice,

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah! Besides,” Jace smiles, turning towards the stadium, “I have a feeling you’re going to love it”

And Damian did love it. The designs were amazing, some more haute couture while others were casual, and each designer explained how their designs involved sustainability. Some were statement pieces, designed to address political issues, others were just to demonstrate that sustainability could still be cute, and while others highlighted affordability and sustainability.

Damian wanted to do this. Running through his head were endless possibilities. Perhaps he can enlist the help of Poison Ivy to create a vegan leather that was also bullet resistant, or…

The next Monday he is waiting for his advisor at 7 in the morning, because he spent the rest of the weekend coming up with ideas, sketches, creating a portfolio, and practicing hypothetical arguments as to why Damian should go into fashion. At 7:15 his advisor sees him, and can tell by the light in Damian’s eyes, determination on his face, and the way he’s clutching his sketchbook, Damian has found it.

“I want into the fashion program!” Damian all but bursts, unconsciously on his tippy toes in excitement.

“Okay,” His advisor smiles, ushering him into his office. “Let’s make it happen”

“Just like that?” Damian asks, eyes wide, voice surprisingly small. His advisor smiles at him kindly.

“I’ll do whatever I can to make it happen.”

It takes a bit before Damian can actually get into the program, he has to work on some prerequisites, and also create a better portfolio with samples, but Damian is determined. By the end of the school year, he has been accepted.

Damian doesn’t tell his family, not in the beginning. He actually doesn’t want to tell his friends either, unsure of how they’d react. He is still insecure, and just entering his teen years. He worries about what any or everyone will say. Eventually, though he tells Jon and Colin, swearing them to secrecy. They both are excited for him, asking if he’d design their costumes for them. Damian blushes but says,

“Tt, like you can afford me”

He eventually tells Alfred as well, because he needs help learning how to use a sewing machine, and fast. Sure, he can stitch someone up flawlessly, but sewing machines weren’t part of the League’s lessons. Alfred is in charge of the one at the Manor, so it only makes sense to ask him. Even so, Damian is reluctant. When he does finally ask, he nearly gives himself an attack, worrying about being scolded for not using his “full potential”. Alfred simply squeezes Damian’s shoulder, and agrees with a kind smile. The young Master finally seemed passionate about something besides vigilante work and violence. Alfred would do everything in his power to foster that.

“Just,” Damian looks down, hands clenching into fists at his side, “Do not tell the others. I would prefer this between us,” He looks at Alfred, unsuccessfully trying to hide the vulnerability in his wide emerald eyes. Alfred agrees, for now. On the conditions that Damian would have to tell his father and siblings himself, and not to far in the future either.

Damian impresses everyone with his designs, and people learn he is actually quite adorable when he’s doing something he enjoys. His classmates and professors encourage him to join the fall fashion show, which is covering “multiculturalism and the media”. Damian hesitantly agrees, though he has been making designs since the theme was announced. His room is full of crumbled paper on his floor, designs he deigned not good enough. Many of his designs are heavily influenced by his Arab culture, but he also has some Chinese-influenced designs as well. His statement piece is the hardest to get right. It involves a hijab and beautiful colors, but he just can’t get the right patter. Ripping another page and crumpling it,Damian is too concentrated to realized Tim and Dick have been creeping into his room.

“What’s this Dames?” Dick asks, startling Damian, as he looks at some of the rejected designs. Panic makes Damian defensive as he yells at them to get out, frustration fueling the dread of his family seeing such unsatisfactory work. Tim flinches, shocked by the emotion coming off of Damian, rushing out with a few crumpled papers he snuck from the floor. Damian is literally trying to shove Dick out the door. Dick turns around, because he can hear the panic in his little brother’s voice. In his Robin’ voice. “Damian,” he says softly, easily deflecting Damian. “It’s okay,” he says, wrapping his arms around Damian, reversing the situation. “What’s wrong, why are you reacting like this?” After a few minutes of struggling, Damian gives up. Slowly,he explains the situation, how he’s in the fashion program and the fashion show coming up, all the pressure to do well, the frustration of not having his statement piece yet. Dick listens, his hold turning into a hug. “From what I’ve seen,” Dick says softly, “these are all wonderful designs,Dami. Whatever you end up making will look amazing, if they look anything like your sketches.”

“It’s not enough!” Damian complains, eyes burning, but he refuses to cry. “You don’t understand!” He says, frustrated.

“Then explain it to me, why is this so important?”

“Because it is about me!” Damian’s voice cracks ask he turns away rosiness his eyes harshly. “When I was introduced to the public, as “Bruce Wayne’s biological son”, do you not remember how the newspapers reacted? They didn’t know me, or my mother, but because—because of my skin, the country I was born, I was mistrusted. Scorned. Yeah, maybe I’ve killed people, but that isn’t because of my skin color or my culture or the language I speak. I have this opportunity to speak out against that!” Damian turns to look at Dick, “I’ve tried to become better, to do better. It’s hard and unfair that none of that matters, because guests are invited to galas hosted in the house that I live in, only to make snide racist comments about “nukes” or the desert or bombs whenever Father and you all aren’t around me. How can I be better, when I’m not given the chance because people can’t see past my skin?” Dick wraps Damian into a tight hug, as wetness drips down Damian’s cheeks. “I’ve been here nearly four years—and it still happens” Damian whispers.

“Why didn’t you say anything Dami?”

“What could I say?” Damian whispers back,

“Bruce—”

“Invites these people because they are important to Wayne Enterprise.” He scoffs. “What could you do, especially if I have no proof?”

“Believe me, Damian,” Dick says seriously, pulling back to look into Damian’s eyes. “Bruce won’t invite anyone who’s racist or derogatory towards his children, back to a gala, let alone do business with him again.” He smiles a hard somewhat vicious smile. “I know because when I was first adopted, he did that for me” Damian’s eyes widen. “And if Bruce can’t defend you, you can bet your brothers will,” Damian looks unsure, but nods. “But I get it now. You’ve always used art to vent and express yourself. This design is something that would allow you to address what the media has done to and said about you.”

“It’s been,” Damian shrugs, looking down, “therapeutic. In a way I never imagined it would be.”

“Well, I think, whatever you end up designing will be amazing,” Dick smiles, and Damian looks up at the sincerity, giving his own smile smile in response. “And I expect an invitation to the fashion show!” He chuckles, causing Damian to blush. “And I bet the whole family would want to come as well,” Damian blushes, looking away once more.

“Tickets are $15 each, and available online,” Damian replies, making Dick belly laugh. “You can invite the others, if you’d like” Damian mumbles.

“Hmm,how ‘bout I invite the siblings while you invite your dad,” Damian grumbles, but agrees. “Great! Now, take a break. One night not designing won’t hurt you.” Dick says, wrapping his arm around Damian’s shoulder. ‘Might do you some good, in fact.”

Things get better after that, because after his talk with Dick, Damian gets an idea for his design. Ziba, a Persian student Damian met in his Literature class, agreed to be his model for his statement piece. She wore her hijab proudly, a solid black color, which helped with the down-to-business look the rest of the outfit screamed. Ziba’s makeup was beautiful, as Damian was putting the last touches on her. They both were quiet, nervous excitement pulsing through them both. Ziba had on white trousers that flared out a bit, to give an almost flowy feel, with black basic vegan leather square pointed toe mule flat accented by a silver buckle. Damian had made the top a cross between a tunic, a blazer, and a cape. It is white, and goes over a plain solid black turtleneck. Printed on both the buttoned blazer tunic top and the trousers are past racist articles written about Damian. In red graffiti styled letters sprayed across the news paper articles are phrases like “Lies” “Warped Perception” “Western POV” “Racist” “I was only 10”. The red paint matches the red lipstick Ziba is wearing.

Damian was nervous with his family in the audience, everyone including Alfred was there. Apparently Superman and Superboy were in attendance too, as civilians of course. Colin was there too. Damian had told his father about the fashion show, and was surprised to see how supportive he was about it. Of course that may have been the shock, as Damian had told him that morning before leaving for school. Bruce blinked, stood up and hugged Damian, before saying he couldn’t wait for the show.

Damian’s set is the last, ask the show is in alphabetical order according to last names. When it’s his turn, all of his model’s line up, and Damian is running around making sure everything is perfect. He hears the speaker introduce his collection, inviting Damian to join him on stage. Damian rushes out, brown cheeks turn red. Together they introduce all seven outfits of the collection one by one, as Damian describes his designs, the material, and the inspiration behind each one. When it get’s to Ziba’s turn, Damian’s nearly choked up. He manages to discuss this piece and it’s significance to him. At the end, Damian received a standing ovation from nearly everyone. Looking over at his family, he has to duck from hiding his flamed cheeks. All his siblings were cheering for him, while Bruce and Dick dab their eyes. Alfred has a proud look on his face, and Damian couldn’t have been happier.

He ends up getting second place, but also his own work room at the Manor. Damian begins selling his work after getting it patented (Tim demanded it), and is surprised when a number of orders are for the galas around Gotham. Dick told Bruce and the others about all the things Damian has been hearing at Galas, and they are justifiably angry. Duke begins chants of “Eat the Rich” every time he hears someone says something problematic about Damian, and that because Tim’s signal on who to take down next.

Damian’s designs become more widely popular as his family starts wearing them, as they love talking about it and how he uses sustainable methods and materials. This earns him big named clients, who start wearing Damian’s designs on the Red Carpet and premiers . Damian also likes to do work for charity, often donating dresses to high schoolers who cannot afford prom dresses or making clothes out of extra material to donate to shelters so people have clothes for job interviews and such.

(He also makes his pets clothes when he’s bored, so it’s normal to see Titus wearing a doggy hoodie with slits in it for his ears)

ANYWAYS, this is my headcanon lol

What do think about it?

—🧵🪡

Headcanon?? Bestie this a whole ass au!

As for my thoughts-

💳 💥💥 💳 💥💥💥 💳 💥💥💥💥

[hitchell-mope]

(First film. After “rewrite the stars”. On the isle. Maleficent saw the whole thing)

Jafar: she’s failing

Maleficent: no she is not. She is just

Grimhilde: a teenager. A lovesick. Hormonal. Useless teenager. Y

Maleficent: would the both of you like to be throwing up thorns for the next decade?

(Jafar and Grimhilde shut up)

Maleficent: as I was saying. My daughter is not failing. She is just. Stuck. Like when the infant evaded My detection for sixteen years

Jafar: yes. Yes. If I recall correctly that was because your little runty minions had no idea that children grow

(Grimhilde shrieks in laughter. Maleficent’s eyes glow bright emerald green and the evil queen is being throttled by vines. The shorter woman’s eyes glow a bright sapphire blue and a torrent of glass heads towards the dark fairy who cuts the flow and turns it to sand. Jafar looks on bored out of his skull)

Jafar: ladies ladies. Knock it off. And we ARE right Maleficent. The child is failing. I believe it has something to do with that freckled child

Maleficent: no. He and your son and the carrot and the stick.

Grimhilde: and my daughter

Maleficent: is superfluous to the equation.

Jafar: the child is weak.

Maleficent (ruefully): just like her father

Grimhilde: her father

Maleficent: is a fool. And a traitor. That bastard left me alone with nothing but an energy drain to make up for it

Grimhilde: I remember. I was the midwife

Maleficent: All you did was catch the egg when it popped out.

Grimhilde: then you banished me. And didn’t rescind it until eight years later. I had no one to help me through 72 hours of

Jafar: biniemat allah. Would you both stifle. It’s disgusting talking about woman’s things in polite society

Maleficent: vous salir bâtard. Just because you created you spawn so immaculately with magic doesn’t mean you are the only one who ever gave birth

Jafar: why am I even here. I am a man. I shouldn’t be taking orders from a green skinned heathen

Maleficent: and that is exactly the reason why you lost the fight

Jafar: I lost because you cheated. Which is typical down to the letter with your kind

Grimhilde: halte den Mund, halt den Rand, Halt die Klappe. Du willst meine Tochter heiraten. Du bekommst kein Mitspracherecht

Jafar: I am a sultan

Grimhilde: abgesetzt

Maleficent: as I was saying before personal grievances entered the matter. They have not failed. Mal knows what will happen if they do

Grimhilde: ab mit ihren Köpfen

Jafar: iqtew ru'usihim

Maleficent: enlevez leur têtes

(In Auradon. Mal bursts into her and Evie’s room close to tears)

Mal: something just happened. Something. I know know if it’s good or bad but it’s something and that something terrifies me

(Evie’s clutching her desk. She looks white as a sheet. She looks like she’s about to throw up)

Evie (barely above a whisker): go. Now. Go. Please

Mal (stubbornly): my room as well. And I wanna talk.

Evie: I SAID GO!!!!

(The glass in the vanity mirror explodes and heads for Mal’s face intending to cut her to ribbons. Mal turns it to sand before it can reach her)

Mal: you know better than to do that indigo

(The windows broken by a twisted vine that wraps itself around Evie. This is when Jay comes in and disappears both the sand and vines leaving the girls still looking ready to kill each other)

Jay: ok what the fuck. You were getting along so well. Honestly this is sort of preferable. But why. What happened this time to set you into melee mode?

(The sisters rotten screech and rant over each other until jay manages to shush them both)

Jay: right. Mal first

Mal: I think I almost kissed the prince

(Evie sits down. Jay’s jaw hits the floor)

Mal: well the pair of you needn’t look so surprised

Evie: I told him. No. Not the time. You kissed him or he kissed you

Mal: myeh-myeh

Evie: what now?

Jay: I think you broke her brain. What happened after Carlos and me left?

Mal: Evie yelled at Lonnie cause of chad I thought Ben had black blood went mothery on him almost planted one on his unfairly cute face next thing you know Nasira’s you’re aunt and I’m throttling my sister with thorn vines

(The other two blink)

Evie: I can explain. That idiotic commoner told me

Jay: yeah yeah don’t care. Lonnie’s a good friend Chad’s an ass go for Doug. Now when you say “planted one”. Do you mean romcom or kids cartoon

Mal: there’s a difference?

Jay: hells yeah there’s a difference. Kids cartoons a short and pg. Romcoms. Are not.

Mal: the-the-the-then rom...com?

(Jay cheers loudly and punches the air. Then stops)

Jay: wait. When you say “almost”?

Mal: I stopped myself. We may or may not have danced. Then I ran out of there

Jay: oh good god it’s like a sitcom

Mal: nothing about this is funny. I. Cannot. Get sucked in

Jay: why?

Mal: because

Evie: oh my god. You’re scared. The big. Bad dragons daughter. Is scared. Of a pretty face

Jay (sending danger): ohhhh kay. Why don’t we just take a breather

Mal: I’d much rather bash a water jug over her head.

Evie: can we talk about me now?

Jay (long suffering sigh): fine. What did Lonnie say.

Evie: same thing Doug and Ben said. That Chad’s a user. That he’ll dump me when he’s bored. But she’s lying

Jay: I don’t think she was. And I don’t think you thought she was lying either

Evie: she has to be.

Mal: she wasn’t and you know it. We can read minds, remember?

Evie: yeah but

Jay (kindly) Mal (not so kindly): Lonnie wasn’t lying

(Evie goes into the bathroom to cry)

(Meanwhile, Audrey’s pacing the floor of fairy godmothers office mad as all hell)

Audrey: it’s disgusting the way those backwards circus freaks leech off him. He’s too nice to say it but I can tell he’s annoyed by them. And who wouldn’t be. Those things are barely with a first look. We should all just dump them back where they (there’s a knock at the door) OH WHAT?!?!

Doug: fairy godmother asked to see me before curfew. Something about my report card?

Fairy Godmother (glad for an excuse to be rid of Audrey for at least a couple of moments): yes! Yes. Last semesters report card. It got lost just before the break and I recovered it today. I thought we could video chat your father

Doug: sure

Fairy Godmother (under her her breath): oh thank goodness. (Regular volume) Audrey I’m so sorry dear. Well have to continue this chat tomorrow

Audrey: I’m not done

Fairy Godmother: well I am. I’m sorry dear but you have got to stop this smear campaign against Mal and her friends. It’s not nice. It’s not healthy. And it will not end well for you

Audrey: I don’t care. I’m not gonna rest until Ben sees they’re heinous villains. I’m not going to rest until that damned pixie that witch that unmanacled djinn and that freckled face fa

Fairy Godmother and Doug (absolutely incensed): AUDREY!!!!

Audrey (genuinely ignorant of what she said): what

Fairy Godmother: we do not use those words here. We have a zero tolerance policy for those types of slurs

Audrey: what slurs. It’s what they are. It’s technical terms.

Fairy Godmother: you do not use those words if you wish to continue to attend this school. Doug. I am so sorry. A rather urgent matter Amiga’s materialised. I hope we can continue this tomorrow. Audrey I’m calling your parents. You have break lunch and after school detention for the next month until family day. I am going to call your parents and give them a detailed rundown of your horrible behaviour

Audrey: my parents are in Malta until the 24 hours before family day. They’re coming down for the event. Grammy’s available

Fairy Godmother (visibly deflating): ah. You still have detention. And are required to apologise to Mal Jay Carlos and Evie for your frankly despicable actions

(Audrey pompously turns on her heel and leaves. Bumping into Ben in the doorway. He looks shocked and terrified)

Audrey: oh hey benny boo. So I was thinking when this madness is over we could

Ben (robotically): I uh I I need to speak to Doug

Doug: um fairy godmother. I need to help Ben. Training for my future employment and all that

Fairy Godmother (absolutely no idea of what’s happening): of course

Doug: c’mon Ben

(He leads the prince the back to his bedroom. Where Ben promptly starts hyperventilating)

Ben: I can’t. I can’t beli. She. How. How could she. I can’t tell them not now.

Doug: breathe. You’ll be ok

Ben: she’s wrong. She has to be wrong. Nobody’s fully rotten to the core. Are they?

Doug: buddy she doesn’t care. All she knows is that now they’re here. She’s not important anymore. And she’s doing what ever she can to make herself feel important again. And she doesn’t care who she hurts to get it

Ben: but she wouldn’t cross a line

Doug: when we were six she got her nanny fired because she said and I quote “nanny Mavis didn’t tell the tooth fairy about my incisors”. And she’s the one who locked you and Jane in the wardrobe when we were eleven

Ben (face in his hands): oh god we were in there for two hours. We had to get our braces rewired. A whole week of school spent in a hospital bed

Doug (sarcastically): sure. That’s what’s wrong with the situation she put you in. Not the fact she’s a jealous cow

Ben: anyway. Enough about me. What’s up with you

Doug: nothing. Need to show my dad last semesters report but otherwise peachy keen. Why do you ask

Ben: because I see your face whenever Evie mentions Chad

Doug: she chose chad. There’s nothing I can do even if I wanted to. Which I don’t. Can’t change her mind.

Ben: yeah. But you’re still upset.

Doug: This isn’t about me. This is about Evie. And chad. And the fact he is going to emotionally destroy her and they shouldn’t happen to anyone.

Ben (smiling knowingly): you love her

Doug: I’m sorry who has the hots for the daughter of Maleficent?

Ben: guilty as charged. But still.

Doug and Ben: we cant make them fall for us

Ben: I think Mal might like me though

Doug: lemme gues. The pen thing almost led to the inevitable kiss. Then she ran. Am I right?

Ben: yes. And how many people know about the pen thing?

Doug: well Lonnie managed to keep four people quiet that I know about. So probably everyone in our grade barring Mal and her friends

Ben: not what I had in mind for my first scandal but it could be worse I suppose

Doug (incredulous): you’re PLANNING your scandals?

Ben: I’m almost sixteen. I’m going to be king. People can be very unkind. So I may as well try to rein in some measure of control over what gets out

Doug (smiling sadly): if anyone ever tries to take that light from your eyes Lonnie and I are gonna beat their asses to death

Ben: please don’t. Nobody should ever get hurt because of me

Doug: well. Lonnie could give saint Spinelli a run for her money when she gets going. And I’ve been known to bite. But I won’t seeing as you asked so nicely. I cannot vouch for Lonnie though

Ben: of course.

Doug: you’ve still got some er (he rubs his bottom lip)

Ben: oh! Eh heh heh (he wipes his mouth)

(Back at the sisters room. Carlos has wandered in half asleep and confused)

Carps (yawning in Jay’s spare tourney jersey): whassapening?

Evie: you’ve got a new papa

Carlos: huh

Mal: don’t confuse him indigo. I almost kissed Ben C

Carlos: wha?

Jay: we can talk about it tomorrow.

Carlos (pouting): I woke up and you were gone

Jay: I’m sorry buddy. They were fighting

Carlos (rounding on the other two): you know not to fight after I’m asleep

Mal: I’m so sorry C. It will never happen again.

Jay (scooping Carlos up): c’mon buddy. Let’s get you back to sleep

Carlos: leave again I’ll turn into a boa constrictor

Jay (chuckling): I don’t doubt that

(Jay carries him out of the room)

Evie: sit down. This time we have

Mal: no. Nope. Absolutely not. No girl talk

Evie: too late! You wanna hold him

Mal: I swear. If you quote shrek at me

Evie: ok. Ok. Seriously though. How do you feel?

Mal: rotten. And not in a good way

Evie: why

Mal: look at Ben. Then look at me

Evie: well Ben does have fashion sense

(Mal kicks Evie out of the chair)

Evie: great. Now I have your boot print in my kidney

Mal: well Carlos wanted us to be closer as sisters

Evie: well yay him. Anyway. If you like him

(In the princes bedroom)

Ben: why don’t you just go and tell her

Doug: because

(Girls room)

Evie: because why?

(Ben’s room)

Doug: because

Ben and Evie (in split screen): because why

Doug and Mal: because I’m not god enough

(The friends look at them in sympathy)

Doug and Mal: it’s. It’s not how it’s done.

Doug: I am not

Mal: the one he

Mal and Doug: needs

Mal: and I wasn’t raised for it.

Ben: you know you can talk to me right?

Doug: yeah I know

(Girls room)

Evie: then talk to me

(This is when “heart attacks” happens)

[headfulloffantasies]

Captain America Fitness Challenge

A short fic of how the Captain America PSA in Spiderman Homecoming might have come about

An elementary school teacher in Queens had noticed her students obsession with superheroes and in true blue fashion had arranged her teaching program around said heroes. The science section of the classroom was labelled “Iron Man’s lab” and the kids did deep breathing to calm their “inner Hulk”. Quiet reading time was Spy Time and every game they played had some sort of Avengers theme.

The school board got wind of it and lost their minds. They called in the education media director, Clark, to see if he thought this kind of thing would work throughout all levels of education.

Clark sat facing a board of grey faced old people and very kindly explained that young children loved anything with the label of their heroes slapped on it. But teenagers were cynical machines of sarcasm and they would not stand for cheesy characactures.

“You know memes? They will make memes,” he tried to explain.

Somehow the board took this and interpreted that Clark wanted to work with the genuine article.

“We want you to find an Avenger to do some PSA and training programs for high school students,” they formally said. Informally, they told Clark to jump and when he asked how high they said the moon.

“This is impossible,” Clark groaned to Kelly and Lola, his assistants.

Kelly was not listening and was entirely focused on the possibilities. “We could have Thor do weather announcements, and Iron Man and Dr. Banner could do science facts, and when we find Black Widow, she can do the discipline reprimands.”

Clark stared at Kelly

“Find… Black Widow?”

Kelly was jazzed, not sensing the irony. “Yeah man! She’s terrifying, she’d scare all the kids straight.”

Clark pinched the bridge of his nose, “Kelly, if you find Black Widow you’d better apply for SHEILD because you’re a better spy than any of them.”

Lola, his tiny camera-Woman, smacked Clark on the shoulder. “The Avengers have a PR rep, you idiot. We can go talk to her. She’ll give us someone’s number.”

The Avengers’ PR representative was a terrifying lady named Maria Hill. For a split second Clark thought she was Black Widow in disguise and then he remembered that international spies didn’t work for PR firms.

Ms. Hill folded her hands on top of her desk. “You want to do what?”

“A couple of short PSA docs with one or two of the Avengers. We’d show the video clips in schools to promote education and behaviours.” Clark repeated his spiel he’d gotten from the board of education.

“You want Captain America to tell kids not to do drugs?” Ms. Hill interpreted.

“Yeah, for starts,” Clark answered.

“Captain America is a product of drug experimentation,” she said.

Huh. Clark had to sit back and think about that one. “Well someone else can do the drug PSA then. What about Iron-,”

Ms. Hill started laughing before he finished and didn’t stop until Clark was worried she’d busted her gallbladder.

“Hulk?” He offered weakly.

Ms. Hill had to excuse herself for a full five minutes.

In the end, she set up meetings for Captain America, Iron man, Scarlet Witch, and Bruce Banner.

“Thor is off world and as agents of SHIELD, Black Widow and Hawkeye are on assignment,” Ms. Hill explained.

“Off world,” Lola mouthed at Clark. She was vibrating with excitement.

They picked a cafe to meet Captain America at.

“Do you think Cap drinks Americanos?” Lola asked. She was on her third iced coffee and was quickly approaching a new plane of existence.

Captain America walked into the cafe in a white t shirt and blue jeans. The Falcon followed him and Clark nearly lost his mind. The two heroes seemed to be in the middle of some kind of argument as they approached the table.

“He’s not in Cuba, Steve. Would you go on vacation if you were a terrorist?”

“But Hydra was definitely involved in the Cold War and Buck might have been-,” Cap cut himself off when he noticed the attention of the three nerds at the table.

Cap was painfully polite as he sat down and listened to them introduce themselves and explain their hopes for working with him and Falcon. He insisted that they call him Steve.

Kelly short circuited at this request and called him Captain Steve for the remainder of the meeting.

Lola, still jittering at a higher frequency, asked the first question. “Mr. Falcon, have you ever done drugs?”

“Excuse me?”

Clark resisted the urge to slam his head against the table.

Kelly explained. “We want at least one drug PSA, but we’ve discovered that some heroes have,um, experimented? In the past. And we don’t want to be hypocritical.”

Sam turned a wide grin on Steve, who looked like he wanted to melt into the floor.

“Hypocrites, Steve,” he said.

Steve narrowed his eyes. “You said other heroes. Who else is doing this?”

“Well, you’re the first we’ve talked to,” Clark explained, “But we’d like as many people involved as possible. Iron Man-,”

“No,” Steve interrupted, hands splayed in the table. “Do not talk to Tony Stark. He will corrupt all the children.”

“That’s a bit mean,” Sam said.

Steve turned on him. “Do you remember Halloween?”

“Oh, yeah,” Sam nodded. “Get him far away from the kids.”

Steve met Clark’s eye. “I’ll do it, as long as you don’t contact Tony Stark or let him anywhere near this.”

Clark nodded dumbly. “Yeah, okay.”

Falcon shook his head, “I don’t need more attention. Count me out.”

In the end, only Captain America agreed to do the project. Dr. Banner turned green around the gills when they sat down with him and had to leave halfway through the meeting. Scarlet Witch didn’t return any of their calls. Hawkeye somehow got Clark’s number and rang him to ask why he wasn’t invited to do the thing.

“I am an exceptional role model,” he claimed. “I can teach the kiddos all kinds of stuff.”

“Aren’t you a spy?” Clark asked.

“Yeah, so?”

“Don’t you need to keep your identity a secret? These videos are going to be shown across America and will be posted on the internet.”

The phone was silent.

“So I might not have thought this through,” Hawkeye said at last.

Captain America was not Steve Rogers, Clark decided. Steve Rogers was a guy from Brooklyn, with a foul mouth and an attitude. Kelly had to go out back and take a breather when he heard Steve call the president “A loud mouthed capitalist, elitist, entitled waste of oxygen.”

Steve walked onto the sound stage with Black Widow in tow. Kelly nearly plotzed.

Black Widow was wearing a black t shirt with “From Russia with Love” printed on it in gold cursive. She called it irony with a smile like a shark.

“The love, or Russia?” Lola tried to clarify.

Black Widow cocked her head. “Both.”

“Are you maybe willing to do a couple of short videos for us?” Clark asked.

She smiled like a knife. “I’m just here to make sure Steve goes through with it.”

Steve whined, making it very clear that he was regretting his decision.

“Think of the children.” Black Widow said, patting his arm.

Steve whined, “The children can learn from their own mistakes.”

The suit changed Steve. He became apple pie, picket fences, and justice the second the mask went on.

The camera was rolling, the teleprompter booted up, and away he went. The star spangled man with a plan flew through the Captain America Fitness Challenge.

Clark yelled “cut” and suddenly he was Steve again.

“I hate you,” he snapped at Black Widow. “I am not an example for children.”

Lola approached Steve. “We want to do the discipline memos next.”

“Discipline?” Steve straightened. “Are they still caning kids in schools?”

Lola’s eyes went wide and Clark had to smother a laugh. “No, detention.”

Steve nodded sagely. “Caning never worked anyways. It's not much of a punishment when you’ve already lost a fight.”

Lola made a horrified squeak and hurried back to her camera.

Clark asked, “Hey, do you want to go off script for a bit? Impart some wisdom to the youngsters?”

Steve perked up. “Really?”

He leaned into the camera. “To every single one of you kids. Get your vaccinations. I don’t care what your parents say. Polio sucks, trust me.”

From behind the camera Black Widow yelled, “You’re a dirty liar, Rogers. I’ve seen your file, you never had polio.”

“No, but I had measles and mumps,” he volleyed back.

Steve addressed the camera again. “If you’re going to punch a nazi, don’t tuck your thumb into your fist. You’ll break your hand.”

“Okay, thanks,” Clark choked. “Let's go back to the teleprompter.”

“Hi, I’m Captain America. Here to talk to you about one of the most valuable traits a student or soldier can have. Patience.”

****

Thanks for reading! If you like what you read, consider buying me a coffee.

[bitter-ramblings]

I’ve been incommunicado since April 1st and now I will say why. Currently, only four people know this story, so gather round children and let me tell you a tale.

April 1st I hadn’t slept all night due to frequent anxiety attacks, the reason for the anxiety attacks being that I’d got a date. Started talking to said date in the morning but couldn’t get out of bed due to aforementioned anxiety. By the time I was finally done worrying about what to wear and actually got out of the house it was coming up to midday. I wasted half the day in bed panicking.

Finally met up with my date, and they were lovely. Such a wonderful warm person. I got comfortable with them quickly, and they even let me do their makeup (subtle as it was, it was there, didn’t want to overwhelm). Honestly, we had to climb 3 sets of stairs to reach their room, we were both fucking winded by the time we got up there. They kindly painted my nails for me, and coincidentally they used nail polish the same shade as my lipstick.

I had so many plans for the day, and at best 2 came true. The first being that I actually showed up and met them. I’m not exactly lucky on the relationship front (partially my own fault but I’ll explain that another time). The second being I dragged them into the sticks in order to visit my favourite steak house. Naturally, I drank too much and made a tit of myself, but not too much of a tit I don’t believe.

After the mealtime was trudging on and they wanted to go shopping, I did too coincidentally so off we adventured to the intu potteries shopping centre. Such excite. Everywhere we went the clothes were too small or just plain shit (again more on this in a separate post), and eventually, dejectedly we wandered into the zoo that is Primark. I brought myself a Nirvana t-shirt like the 90s grunge kid I am, but my date got nothing, and that kind of made me feel crappy.

Just as we were leaving and about to head back to their hotel, I got a text from my friend Emii asking that I buy her some fake nails. Now both my friends, Emii and Mousey, are fully aware that I am on a date, and they’ve both been texting me practically non-stop since about 12. I assumed to make sure I was safe and having a good time, but they kept asking me when I was going to be finished and to come over asap.

My date was very patient with me picking out the nails, and God fucking bless them, they even drove me to Emiis house and dropped me off… And that’s when the day turned sour. The date was pretty okay, the company was good, I just don’t think either of us got to do as much as we’d liked, but we had the following day to continue adventures. Except we did not.

As soon as I let myself into Emiis i can feel the tension in the air. Baring in mind I’m 2 pints of Peroni lager down and had a drink before I even left the house that morning. So I wander up the stairs and there’s a stranger waiting for me. It turns out that Emii invited her tinder date over for a night out with us (emo night at the underground, it was a busy weekend for me, who rarely leaves the house), and it turned out he was a bit of a dickhead. Other Sam as he is known (there can be only one), started out pretty okay. Just a regular bloke. But mousey and Emii are both sitting away from him, he was on his own eating pizza.

I sat by him as it was the only seat and introduced myself, we started having a polite chat about fandoms and personal beliefs, and all the time I can just see Emii and Mousey shrinking away from him. Other Sam misgendered me multiple times, and as it was the first time he’d met me there was really no excuse, he did it to Mousey too. As the conversation went on, we went into relationship politics and had a discussion about attraction and how one's sexuality changes and evolves over time.

In the room, we’ve got a cisgender female pansexual, a transgender male asexual and me, a fucking nonbinary pansexual mess of a person but a male identifying one. He was discussing how in his highschool years he thought he might be bi, but that he found he’s not fond of penises. I then said “maybe you’re biromantic. Besides, it’s not like all men have penises” and then gestured to myself. In response to this, he goes “well, actually-” and Emii shut him up quickly. I encouraged him to go on. Everyone is entitled to their opinions, I’m not everyone’s cup of tea. And I always encourage healthy discussion and debate, which we then engaged in, in a civil (bit tipsy) manner.

I’m pretty much always willing to find a compromise, and I wasn’t about to prove my intemperance by knocking him on his arse, especially not in my friends flat. He genuinely argued that Nazis don’t deserve to be punched. I shit you not. By this point, he’s the Nick Griffin of the room now. Not quite on Donald Trump’s level of bigotry, but y'know, probably voted UKIP and for Brexit. Actually, I think he mentioned being in favour of leaving the EU, but by this point, my eyes had rolled so far back into my skull they were doing roly-polys.

As the conversation was pretty sour, Emii put on some music and cracked out more alcohol so we could get back into the party mood. P!ATD, FOB, MCR, all the emo greats… Also, Mariana’s Trench because yessss. Things got better with alcohol and simultaneously worse. As so often happens when lads are in a group and are drinking, it soon dissolved into “banter”, slapping each other on the back and generally being too loud and making others uncomfortable.

“Ah all in the bantz mate, we’re pals yeah?” He’d say every time he misgendered me. Walking through Alsager was fucking bad, it’s full of elderly people, and here are two rowdy 20-somethings here staggering along and singing… And we’ve not even been to the event yet, this is all predrinks. Other Sam the decided to spend some time with Emii so me and mousey had a chance to talk. I can fucking see why they were so eager to have me there, as I’m the resident arsehole wrangler. Dealing with obnoxious lads is essentially the entirety of my college experience (more on that another time.)

On the bus, Other Sam was once again demoted to be my travel buddy. Emii was just barely tolerating him at this point, but he couldn’t leave as he’d come all the way from Liverpool and had no means of returning home. We got to The Underground and the place was deserted, just the DJ and the barman. I got the first round in, therefore being dubbed a “top lad” by my charge.

People filtered in slowly, but it never got so packed out as to be uncomfortable. I even got up and danced (I’m only capable of dad dancing), Emii can get along with anyone and she was tearing up the dance floor most of the night, something Other Sam did not appreciate. Miserable sod wouldn’t get up and dance, just sat there chuntering that “she’s giving all her attention to other blokes”. He’d deluded himself that she was trying to take someone else home, and outright accused her to her face a little later on. The event itself was pretty great, but afterwards, Other Sam had a rate temper tantrum, so me and Mousey played bouncer. Other Sam’s there telling me what a “nice guy” he is and how he “didn’t have any expectations”, and yet he’s made her cry because he’s a jealous piece of shit.

We got the taxi home and Other Sam did apologise, but by this point everyone was tired and Emii had no time or interest in him. If it wasn’t for him not being able to get home she’d have kicked him out without a second thought, and rightly so in my opinion.

Fun part was, Emii and Mousey went off to bed, and I had to share the sofa bed with an inebriated nice guy complaining about how women have wronged him. I just put my pyjamas on and got into bed and prayed for the best. He’s strutting around in nothing but his underwear, touching himself, and I am filled with dread. He slips in behind me and puts an arm around me. I can't hear what he’s slurring, just ringing in my ears as he touches me.

Thankfully he was too drunk to get it up and mistook the inside of my thigh for my genitals… Somehow. Anyway, I just kept insisting I was going to sleep until he gave up and rolled over saying “we can finish this tomorrow, sweet dreams”. If I hadn’t been so drunk there’s no way I could have slept. I woke at about 5 that morning and climbed out of bed onto another sofa, I didn’t want to be next to him when he woke up, or indeed ever.

Emii got up at about 7 getting ready for work. I’m massively hungover and stressed out so she shepherded me into bed with Mousey and woke Other Sam up, politely but firmly asking him to be gone by 9. After Emii left, Other Sam went back to sleep, and me and Mousey were unable to relax with him in the next room.

Emii actually had to come back on her dinner break to get him out of the house. Once he was gone I practically passed out, I was so hungover I didn’t even hear Mousey come and go, tidying and getting shopping. Got up around 1, with Emii expected back at 2. Emii bless her, cooked us a beautiful Sunday dinner, it was a really nice end to the weekend. But because of all that nonsense, I wasn’t well enough to see my date again… Which was shit. But he drove to see his girlfriend on the way home and they had a good time together which was wonderful.

I’m slowly getting my mojo back but right now my head is massively fucked up. I need to take some time. Right now every little thing is just too much for me to handle.