#I hope that single social media manager that wasn’t on board gets out of there before things get really bad bc there WILL be layoffs

[samuraisharkie]

I can’t wait to see how badly this new business venture of Watcher’s fails. I hope Steven, Ryan, and Shane’s America centric self obsessed asses lose everything and I hope Steve has to sell his Tesla and bullshit matcha machine and the others have to downsize whatever else bougie shit they have and LEARN how valuable $6 is, not just in the US but everywhere else. This is going to crash and burn and I can’t wait to see the decline.

[ketamineharry]

Whenever I’m With You Pt 1- Harry Lewis

Requested: No, this is just inspired by Home, by Edith Whiskers

Tags: None, just my god awful writing x

Harry had been your best friend ever since you could remember. You were joined at the hip; wherever you went, he went and vice versa. Besides your parents, he was the first person you loved, a selfless love, putting his needs before your own every single time. He was everything to you and more.

He was the one to bring you out of your shell, as you were quite shy and reserved. On the other hand, he was mischievous and cheeky — always on the lookout for the next prank. His ‘pranks’ always ended the both of you in trouble, but neither of you minded that much, sure you were grounded but you’d be grounded together. So, you’d just fly paper planes into each other’s gardens, messages scrawled in messy handwriting as you tried to communicate with one another.

So it was only natural, when he moved to London that you followed suit. You packed your suitcase and left without a second thought. Leaving your small island for a big city, was a massive change however. A change that you weren’t quite anticipating. Harry’s work with YouTube only became more and more successful, meaning he had less and less time for you. You didn’t really mind however, as you knew how important it all was to him.

One afternoon, while you were at his flat, he asked you to be in one of his videos with the rest of his friends. You weren’t entirely sure about the idea. Being in the public consciousness wasn’t something that you desired, so you weren’t quite sure if you could prepare yourself for the potential backlash; not only by the fans you recognised in comment sections, but from complete strangers too.

“I’ll think about it.” You told him, as you made yourself a glass of water. Your mind made up on declining the offer, you didn’t want to face criticism and after all, everyone online faced criticism.

“Come on Y/N, it’s a competition based around baking… if you agree to it, we’re sure to win.” He pleaded. “Plus, it means we get to spend more time together and that’s the most important thing.” He continued, trying his very best to convince you.

“Fine.” You said, a sense of exasperation escaping you as you did. At least now that you had agreed, he’d stop annoying you. “So what were you thinking of baking? We can do a few test bakes for it, make sure it’s really good before the real thing.” You continued, rolling your sleeves up.

“Oh… about that… I actually have something I have to film, so why don’t we rearrange for next week?” He responds, a hopeful look crossing his features as he searched your eyes for an answer.

“Sure. I’ll see you next week then.” You responded, slightly deflated. He had seemed so excited to have you on board and then, as soon as you were he had moved onto something else. Perhaps this was something you had to become accustomed to, the YouTube life. The life where your best friend was stripped from you and you just had to accept it because the social media world moved so fast, and he had to always be two steps ahead to make sure he survived.

As you made your way out of the flat, you ordered yourself an Uber. You couldn’t shake the feeling that Harry was using you. Sure, you could bake but his roommate Freezy hosted his own cooking show on YouTube, so it would have been much easier and accessible to ask him, yet he had asked you. Why? Because you were a female, and females in videos always did better than males. Especially when his audience was primarily male teens.

With that thought lingering in your mind, you made a call to Ethan. You had to get to the bottom of this. Despite how close you had once been, using you for the sake of a few extra views, was beyond disheartening. As the phone rang out, your nervousness increased ten fold.

“Y/N! For what do I owe the pleasure?” Although he was on the phone, you could practically feel Ethan’s infectious smile.

“Ethan… it’s so nice to hear your voice, it’s been ages.” You started, as you tucked a piece of loose hair behind your ear. Although you knew this conversation was important, you couldn’t help the anxiety that accompanied it. For the sake of politeness, you decided to indulge in a conversation with him asking him how YouTube was going, if he had any projects coming up soon that he was able to tell you about, all of that good stuff before bringing anything up that could cause potential tension between Harry and his friends.

“Anyway Ethan… the thing is, the reason I decided to drop you a call is because Harry has invited me to film with you guys. I was just wondering what the concept of the video was, he told me it involves baking but that’s about it.” You revealed, a nervous laugh escaped from you as you did.

“Y/N… Harry really should have told you the whole premise before asking you to be on board. The reason he’s asked you is because we’re filming a clickbait video for Valentine’s Day, where we all have ‘girlfriends’ and we’re baking with them. Obviously, there’s Simon and Talia, Josh and Freya, I’m bringing along Elz, as the other boys aren’t comfortable with having their girlfriends on YouTube; we’ve asked our manager to get some girls in. Harry was adamant on asking you though.”

“Oh.” Is all you could manage to say. “Listen Ethan, I’ve gotta talk to Harry. I’ll call you back once I have. Thank you for giving me the full picture.” You continued, as you ended the call.

The anger you felt was far too strong and to actually call Harry. In all the time you had known him, he had never misled you. If there was something going on, you were always in the know. There was nothing that you would keep from each other.

‘Girlfriend clickbait, that you were adamant on asking me to accompany you on… thanks for including that part Harry. We’re supposed to tell each other everything. You can shove your video where the sun doesn’t shine.’

Without a second thought, you hit send. You blocked Harry’s number from your phone, as you locked your phone. You ensured your phone was receiving notifications so that you could check when your Uber would arrive. But as far as you were concerned, Harry was just another stranger in the big city.

[lilydalexf]

Old School X is a project interviewing X-Files fanfic authors who were posting fic during the original run of the show. New interviews are posted every Tuesday.

Interview with Michelle Kiefer

Michelle has 55 stories at Gossamer. If you haven’t read them, what are you waiting for?! She has great takes on Mulder and Scully. I’ve recced some of my favorites of her fics here before, including Christmas in California, Making Other Plans, and Six Inch Valley. Big thanks to Michelle for doing this interview.

Does it surprise you that people are still interested in reading your X-Files fanfics and others that were posted during the original run of the show (1993-2002)?

I’m not sure anyone is still reading my stories.  I haven’t migrated my X-Files ones to AO3. I don’t think Gossamer provides any viewing statistics. I’d be very happy to hear that people still like my work.

What do you think of when you think about your X-Files fandom experience? What did you take away from it?

My X-Files fandom experience was amazing.  I remember that sense of excitement and immediacy.  It was thrilling to write stories (and read those of other authors, of course) in an active fandom for a show that was on the air.  It was truly my first experience in an online world--a parallel world to my real life existence.  I learned how to keep a foot in each world.  As I recall, it was very hard to keep my focus in my “meat” world, when the online one was so fast moving and thrilling.  But I did get some balance in my life as time went on.

Social media didn't really exist during the show's original run. How were you most involved with the X-Files online (atxc, message board, email mailing list, etc.)?

Message boards and mailing lists were my experience.  They were primitive compared to the pretty screens now.  I forged some amazing friendships, some of them with people I discovered lived relatively near me.  All I wanted to do was discuss episodes and fic.  The flame wars were a little intimidating, but also amusing if you didn’t get swept up.

What did you take away from your experience with X-Files fic or with the fandom in general?

I was very passionate about the fandom--as I said, there were times when my online life seemed to overpower my real life experiences.  I learned to manage that, and think I’m all the better for that.  And I found some amazing friendships that are active and thriving today.  I learned a lot about writing with XF fanfic.  The level of quality was stunning.  A decent percentage of fic were as good or better than traditional published fiction.  But there were so many writers!  I wanted to make an impact on the fanfiction world, but that meant taking my writing very seriously and learning to develop a story, pace that story, make it compelling and believable.

What was it that got you hooked on the X-Files as a show?

I had a couple of coworkers that talked about the show all the time.  I was curious, so I watched an episode.  I believe it was the cannibal town one.  I thought David Duchovny was odd looking and wasn’t terribly impressed.  But I tried another episode - Wetwired, which blew me away with the morgue scene when Mulder thinks he’s going to identify Scully’s body.  Ah...I thought, now, I see what everyone is talking about!  And from then I was hooked.

What got you involved with X-Files fanfic?

As I watched, I wanted more.  I was fairly new to the internet (frankly, the internet was new to almost everyone)  I found episode reviews, and some of them were fantastic.  Some mentioned fanfiction.  I was unaware of such a thing, though to be honest, since childhood, I’d been spinning stories in my head about characters on TV shows.  I found some fanfic. The first couple of stories were not great (at least one was horrible) but then I found some that were very good.  Probably a bit soap-operaish, but still readable.  And then I became voracious as I plowed through the mass of stories looking for the good stuff.  And boy was there good stuff.

What is your relationship like now to X-Files fandom?

I’m not estranged from it, but I don’t spend much time with it after all these years.  I’ve found fanfic in some other shows that I like and only occasionally read old XF stories.

Were you involved with any fandoms after the X-Files? If so, what was it like compared to X-Files?

I’ve not been as involved with any other fandoms, i.e. following commentary on the show.  I tend to dive into TV shows well after their heyday, so I’m always late to the party. I do read fanfic from other shows, and have actually written fanfic for other shows, but I need a really good idea to write.  None of the other fandoms for my other shows are as busy and active as XF, even ones currently in production.  And none of them have as much fanfic and certainly not the level of brilliance that we had in XF.

Who are some of your favorite fictional characters? Why?

I tend to go for interesting partnerships, very much in the XF fashion.  And a flawed hero is always a plus!  The partnerships don’t necessarily have to be romantic---in fact I find I prefer those that are not.  Really, Mulder and Scully were the only ones I felt deeply as a pairing, probably due to the chemistry between the actors. But the partnerships have to be well-balanced and realistic.  I loved the characters on Sleepy Hollow.  The two main characters were very much in the mold of Mulder/Scully.

My newest passion is British detective shows and I’ve completely fallen for the “Morse-verse” shows, Inspector Morse, Inspector Lewis and Endeavour.  Less of an XF feel, but compelling characters with interesting backstories.  Other favorite partnerships in the British detective genre are on Inspector Lynley and Broadchurch.

Do you ever still watch The X-Files or think about Mulder and Scully?

A bit less now, though I’m still involved with a wonderful group of ladies who love the X-Files.  When we get together for a yearly weekend, we binge episodes and eat impressive amounts of junk food.  XF isn’t on network TV these days, but if it was, I’d probably watch it.

A couple of years ago, I listened to Kumail Nanjiani’s XF podcast on my long commute.  I loved the commentary and interviews so much that I did watch some old episodes.

Do you ever still read X-Files fic? Fic in another fandom?

I don’t read much XF fic.  I’m currently reading in some other fandoms, but it’s harder to find good stories--the ones I follow aren’t very active these days and the quality just isn’t what XF was.  We were so lucky.  We had maybe 20 incredible top authors at any one time, then maybe another tier of 50 to 100  good to maybe great writers.  And with new episodes, there was so much inspiration. We were so spoiled.

Do you have any favorite X-Files fanfic stories or authors?

Everything from Syntax6, MaybeAmanda, Kel.  A special story for me was “Strangers and the Strange Dead” by Kipler because I remember reading that very early in the morning in my unheated basement in the winter because that was the only time I could use our single computer without others in the family complaining.  I remember actually gasping at the big reveal in the story.  I can even remember the story’s opening line!

What is your favorite of your own fics, X-Files and/or otherwise?

I was just learning how to write fiction when I was involved in XF, so I’m not sure my best work is there, though the bulk of my stories are there.  I liked some of the work I did with others.  I wrote Bone of Contention and Out of the Everywhere with Kel and I think that those stories got the best aspects of both of our styles.  For stories I wrote myself, I think they’re not bad, but they are rather short and it’s always easier to maintain a theme and style for a short story.  I liked Black Cherry Velvet.  I’m writing some Inspector Lewis stories that I think are pretty good--they benefit from the years of experience that I was gaining through XF.

Do you think you'll ever write another X-Files story? Or dust off and post an oldie that for whatever reason never made it online?

Never say never, but I probably won’t write more XF.  I used to burn with it, but I think that got burned out a bit.  Still, I have such wonderful memories of the whole period.  It might be worth looking at again.

Do you still write fic now? Or other creative work?

As I mentioned, I am currently playing in the Inspector Lewis world.  It’s sad--it’s a very small and not terribly active fandom.  Sad that my best work is in an inactive fandom where I’m lucky if 20 or 30 people are reading them.  It doesn’t help that I don’t write the most popular pairing.  

But I’m really enjoying it.  I occasionally write for Man From Uncle, which really shows my age, as that was a childhood obsession.

Where do you get ideas for stories?

With XF, it was always a take on an episode--did I get a tiny idea that I wanted to develop, or was I not thrilled with the way something went on the show.  Now,  it’s usually a “what if” kind of thing where I get inspired by a possible event and explore how that would play out, i.e.  “What if this character had a one night stand resulting in an unplanned pregnancy?”  What would happen?  How would he handle the consequences of this?  How would it change his life?

What's the story behind your pen name?

It’s literally my own name.  I SOOOO wish I’d used a pen name.  But I was naive and fandom was so new to me that it never occurred to me that a pen name would be better.  I always told myself that my real name sounded like something made up, like a TV newscaster name, and I hoped people assumed it was a pen name.

Do your friends and family know about your fic and, if so, what have been their reactions?

My husband and my kids were the only ones who knew about it for many years. Then I went to a fandom/fic gathering for three days and had to explain to a few other family members and my work mates why I was going to Chicago on my own. It’s still mostly a need to know thing and they don’t really need to know.

Is there a place online (tumblr, twitter, AO3, etc.) where people can find you and/or your stories now?

I’m on AO3 as msk.  And everything I wrote for XF is on Gossamer.

(Posted by Lilydale on February 2, 2021)

[merryfortune]

Enter! Muse Duellist: the Heroine Who Fights Armageddon with Song

Written for the 100ships Challenge on Dreamwidth

Prompt #31 Cadet

Ship: Petuniashipping | Gakuto/Romin

Fandom: Yu-Gi-Oh! VRAINS

Word Count: 5,622

Rating: T

Warnings: No Warnings Apply

Tags: Alternate Universe - Magical Girls,  Aged Up Characters, Meet Cute, Sci-Fi Elements, Action, Affectionate Parody

AN: The AU is a mash-up of Tokyo Mew Mew & Megaman with other magical girl anime influences but Gakuto/Romin’s relationship is meant to imitate Ryou/Ichigo from TMM and Gakuto & Yuga’s relationship is meant to imitiate Dr. Light & Dr. Wily from Megaman

 Yuga shook his head, “You are naive, Dr. Sougetsu,” he chided his dear friend who could only stand there, helpless, as Yuga lectured him, “the future is decided. I can see the end of my Road. The flesh is weak but the mind… the mind is unknowable, infinite. Humans may be finite but I shall not be. Nor shall my creations.”

   Gakuto’s hand turned to a fist by his side.

   “All our roads shall come to an end and they will be by my design, my creation.” Yuga told him.

   Gakuto was unable to bring himself to say something. Not because there was nothing to be said but because there was too much to say. Too much to protest. The future that Yuga saw and desired to bring about was not one of coexistence between forces such as robotics, humans, and A.I. but armageddon. Pure and complete and total armageddon. He wanted to open that box, bring about the apocalypse, shiny and chrome. Yuga thought, at the very least, that it was shiny and chrome. Gakuto only saw rust and endless dust. 

   It broke his heart but Gakuto knew that he had to be the one to stop Yuga from piling high his monopoly and bringing about this end that he foresaw. But how? If the enemy was inhuman, the solution could only be uniquely human.

   Parting ways with Yuga, and with such little time between their verbal and ideological sparring, Gakuto threw himself into art. Literature. Into what was sensitive and poetic; things that couldn’t be perfectly recreated by robotic touch. And in his immense and expansive reading, in every genre and every niche, Gakuto had the epiphany that he was after.

   There was an archetypical champion that was trusted instantaneously by the public, adored and rarely ever turned against. Someone who was a paragon of goodness, morality, and put all humanity above themselves for little or more commonly, nothing in return. All because they had an everlasting love inside their heart and a belief in the inherent goodness of mankind. That person, that hero… no, that heroine was, of course, the magical girl.

   Gakuto knew what he had to do. The revelation sank deep down to his theatrical bones. He needed to create, to assemble, his very own magical girl. Flashing in his glasses and in his brain, Gakuto already had a name in mind for this cadet to champion the continuation of humanity rather than its end: Muse Duellist. 

   Racing against his rival who aspired to the end of the world, Gakuto was highly motivated. He threw himself into creating as close to magic as he could using his breadth of scientific knowledge. After all, sufficiently advanced technology was indistinguishable from magic. He embraced those intelligent words from [guy] in the long hours that he slogged to create the perfect frilly armour, the perfect weapons to disarm technology, and so forth.

   The only thing that Gakuto could not create, was of course, the girl herself. No, he needed to find her, his Muse Duellist.

   He could just harass random young ladies on the street - and Gakuto knew that from experience as he had tried that. He got hounded on by many saviour boyfriends, a few policemen, and even some strong-armed ladies who would have made a brilliant Muse Duellist if only they listened, and believed, in him. The mad scientist on the sidewalk, spouting endlessly about the end of the world.

   Yeah, Gakuto wouldn’t want to work with Dr. Sougetsu either, actually, but so went his eccentricity. He had no idea how his beloved Ranze and Rinnosuke put up with him but he was endlessly grateful that they did and were happy to go along with his insane ideas.

   But then he saw her on the televisions in the electronics store window display. He was entranced by her music. Gaktuo stood there, enchanted, as he watched this rock and roller on the television slamming on her guitar. She looked like she was having the time of her life; the camera loved; Gakuto loved her. Her smile was wide and sparkling. She looked so good in her high heels and mini-skirt; the partial mesh body-suit and the loose, over the shoulder, 80’s style torn top.

   With her wild pinky-purple coloured hair and her bright eyes, Gakuto could all too easily imagine her donning the armour of Muse Duellist. Gakuto had to have her. This… This…

   “And that was Roa-Romin with their new hit single! Give it up to Kirishima Romin and her boys!” the announcer rattled off from behind glass.

   Kirishima… Romin… Her name was sweet on Gakuto’s tongue. His eyes were all lit up. He had to meet her. How on Earth was he going to manage that? He was some washed up weirdo from the strangest parts of academia. This Kirishima Romin girl was a mega-famous superstar from the reception that she and her bandmates were getting. 

   So, he did what he did best. He threw himself into yet more research and he discovered something very, very usable about this Miss Kirishima Romin: she was an amateur food critic. She had a very widely known appetite reputed for being humongous and Gakuto didn’t consider himself too bad in the kitchen. Thus, a plan was hatched - and one inspired by one of the magical girl anime that he had watched in the first place in the beginnings of his plan to save the world.

   Using what little of his dwindling generational wealth that he had left, and of course the assistance of his beloved assistants Ranze and Rinnosuke, Gakuto set up shop. Literally. He opened Cafe Muse from behind his house and he did his best to spread word of it as far and wide as he possibly could. All so that Kirishima Romin would be attracted to it - and pinging her across various modes of social media about it did help because she did, eventually, agree to come to the grand opening of it.

   Kirishima Romin looked so fashionable in a beret and cut-out skinny jeans as she was escorted inside by Ranze, ahead of everyone else who lined up in a queue for the grand opening. She looked around the Cafe. It was a lot more saccharine-looking than she was expecting, she mentioned to Ranze. She sat back casually in a pink metal chair and slung her handbag over the back of it.

   “I thought that a newly opened cafe was going to be more upscale than this,” Romin mused to Ranze as she waited hand and foot on her, “but so long as the food was good, I won’t complain.” She shrugged.

   Ranze hesitated, “Yes, well, Master Gakuto has always had unpredictable tastes. I wasn’t quite expecting the architectural plans either and I’m one of his investors.”

   Romin laughed at Ranze’s humour. 

   “Would you like anything to order?” Ranze asked sheepishly.

   “Oh boy would I.” Romin was already all but slobbering. She ordered a lot of food, much more than Ranze was expecting but she diligently scribbled down every whim that Romin had for her stomach and then excused herself.

   Ranze returned to the kitchen, the base of operations for Gakuto, both as chef and as a mad scientist looking to turn this rock star into a magical girl, Rinnosuke slunk out in tandem. He was performing a bit of reconnsanice and of course, he was the waiter and a few guests had already ordered food so that had to be delivered to him. He kept an eye on the one guest that they had been fishing for but his attention was truly hooked by someone else. A familiar face.

   Yuga smiled blithely and flagged Rinnosuke down. “Yo.” he said.

   “Hello Dr. Ohdo, I wasn’t expecting to see you here.” Rinnosuke tersely replied, his hackles raising. “Should I go fetch Master Gakuto for you?”

   “No, no, it’s fine. I’m just here for a snack.” Yuga said and he drummed his hands on the table in front of him but he was wiggling in his chair, craning his head, trying to catch a glimpse of Gakuto who was out in the back. “Dr. Sougetsu and I had a very heated discussion about our irreparable differences of perspective last time we met, I don’t think it's wise but I'm glad he’s come around. Throwing in the towel, deciding to live the rest of his road to the fullest by opening a restaurant. It's unexpected but he’s always been a weirdo. I used to love that about him.”

   Rinnosuke’s expression was dark behind his spectacles but he felt obliged, “Should I take your order, Dr. Ohdo?”

   “That would be fantastic, youngest Nanahoshi.” Yuga teased him with a cruel, fox-like smile. “Now, do you guys have any udon or should I just order a strawberry shortcake?”

   Rinnosuke gravely took Yuga’s order and scurried off. By the time he arrived back in the kitchen, Gakuto had already realised that his rival in the world’s final fate was here. He blamed himself for attracting too much attention. It was, in hindsight, ill-advised to stir such a hullabaloo but Gakuto was certain it would be worth it so long as he could get Kirishima Romin on board with his plan to save the world.

   But how?

   Walking straight up to her and asking, Gakuto had learned, was the quickest way to be slapped and disbelieved but deceiving her would be immoral and counterintuitive to his noble goals. It was all very difficult. If only Ranze hadn’t declined; stating she preferred to be the backstage hero, not the heroine on display front and centre amid the fray. They needed someone with a loud and bombastic and friendly disposition, someone exactly like Kirishima Romin.

   Wary that he was going to run out of time or that this opportunity would slip through his fingers, Gakuto resolved to act fast. He had been hoping to save this maneuver for later but every episode one had a good, gimmicky little mascot character. It was time to introduce Kirishima Romin to her fateful and adorable little partner: Musa.

   Discreetly as possible, Gakuto fed the Tuning Pick to Musa and then slipped over to where Romin was sitting. As soon as he left the kitchen, Gakuto realised that Romin had someone sitting with her. His blood ran cold as he approached her and Yuga.

   “Oh, I didn’t realise that you two knew each other.” Yuga said to Gakuto as he inched closer to Romin’s puff pastry perfect table. “I was just saying hi, introducing myself… I’m a big fan of RoaRomin. Are you into them, as well, Dr. Sougetsu? Or should I just call you Gakuto since you don’t seem to be much of a professor these days, running a sweets shop.”

   “I was just coming over to thank Miss Kirishima for her patronage. Her celebrity presence has increased our business tenfold from what we were expecting on our first day.” Gakuto said and his heart began to quake as he set down the little, fluffy trinket known as Musa in front of romin; a gesture that Yuga eyed with delight. Resistance, excellent, just what he was expecting. “Here,” Gakuto said, “a small token of appreciation, leftover from my bygone days as a scientist. It has no purpose other than to look cute and hold small items, like car keys, for example.”

   “Oh, interesting.” Romin blinked as she picked up the item.

   “Its name is Musa, but I suppose you are free to rename it how you please.” Gakuto said nervously.

   Yuga cooed at them, “Aren’t you two sweet?” he teased.

   “Musa is a cute name, I’ll keep it as is.” Romin replied as she admired the object in question.

   It was almost keyring like in that it had a chain link and hoop at the end of it but other than that, it had a fluffy, little body and was a charming pink in colour. It had googly eyes and a cotton ball tail. It was everything that was meant to be cute or adorable, turned into one conundrum of an unidentifiable creature but it certainly served its purpose.

   “Well,” Yuga said, “I best be going.”

   “It was nice meeting you, Dr. Ohdo.” Romin said.

   “And it was good seeing you again, old friend.” Gakuto added, his voice was bittersweet.

   “Yeah, see ya.” Yuga said and he gave them both a two finger salute.

   He got up and walked away, whistling a little tune to himself, his hands behind his head. The very picture of nonchalance. Meanwhile, Romin and Gakuto exchanged a very awkward look and Gakuto couldn’t take the pressure. He excused himself back to the kitchen, claiming he had much to cook and prepare, namely thanks to her, their current number one customer and Romin laughed half-heartedly. Her reputation, per usual, preceded her. 

   As Gakuto left the table, he could only hope that Romin would poke and prod Musa until its functions were revealed and Romin’s destiny would be all lit up in a blue hologram. Until then, Gakuto could only hope that everything would turn out alright - and that Yuga hadn’t gotten up to anything awry when they weren’t looking. It was already suspicious enough that he had puzzled out who Gakuto and his team were aiming to make their champion for the future of the world.

   Back in the kitchen, Gakuto went through the motions of cooking and preparing food for the patrons to eat. The bombardment of popularity, in any other circumstances, would be seen as fortunate but this place was only meant to be a front for their saving the world efforts so it was more of a hassle than anything else. Still, busying their hands helped distract them from the possibility that Yuga might have something planned.

   Throughout the afternoon, Romin single handedly depleted their larder. They ended up closing early because of it but that might have been a blessing in disguise, even if it was an expensive one. Still, within minutes of closing shop, glowing reviews were going out from Romin’s phone which was an appreciated gesture.

   Gakuto met her again outside with a wobbly smile, “Thank you again for visiting our humble shop, Miss Kirishima.”

   “No problem,” she beamed, chatting idly whilst she texted on her phone; organising for her private chauffeur to come pick her up, “I’m glad I took a chance on this place. Dr. Ohdo was telling me about how good his strawberry shortcake was and he wasn’t wrong. I went for thirds and fourths on it.”

   She laughed and Gakuto laughed with her. It was weird to be with her but Gakuto found himself just a little bit infatuated with the rock star in front of him; just like he had been in front of the electronics store, seeing her perform on television for the first time. He took a deep breath.

   “And thanks again for this little guy,” Romin said and she took out Musa, letting it hang off the hoop which she had threaded onto her finger, “he’s very cute. I can’t wait to show him off to my friends in the band. By the way, totally bringing RoaRomin ‘round here the next chance I get.”

   “We will look forward to it.” Gakuto smiled warmly.

   Romin replied with a small smile of her own and the conversation drifted off into silence. Romin was half expecting for Gakuto to disappear back into his own shop behind them but no, he seemed intent on sticking around. It wasn’t creepy, per say, but it was odd. Fortunately, Romin’s phone buzzed in her hand - spooking them both.

   “Oh, it's my chauffeur saying he’s about to arrive.” Romin said. “I should get going.” She slipped her phone into her purse.

   “Safe travels then, Miss Kirishima.” Gakuto replied.

   “Thank you, er, um… I don’t know how to address you.” Romin rambled.

   Gakuto didn’t know what to tell her. So he just stood there, awkwardly, weirding Romin out so she took a big, and exaggerated, step back. He waved her goodbye and across the road, he watched a limousine park. That must have been her ride and he really did wish her safe travels.

   But she didn’t even make it to the ledge next to this side of the road before she needed such sentiments on her side. The purse that she had slung over her shoulder began to glow - and explode.

   It happened in the blink of an eye. Shafts of bright, yellow light branched out from inside the clutch top of the purse and just expanded outward. Romin yelled and screamed as she rid herself of her purse and then there was the bang as something impossible happened. The explosion knocked Romin and Gakuto to their feet. It caused the whole street to tremble; branches on trees came loose and the rumble was felt for miles out.

   It was blinding at first. Dizzying, disorentating but when the effects began to wear off, as blurry as that was, it was more than apparent that everyone in the immediate vicinity of Cafe Muse was in great, big danger.

   “What is that thing?” Romin yelled as she stumbled to her feet. There were grass stains on her jeans and her wrists felt jarred. Her eyes were wide with defiant fear. “And why the hell is it my phone?!”

   A giant monster loomed in front of them. It looked like a smartphone; slick black screen and a phone case on the back, it was even pommed with decorative charms. But there was something else latched onto it, at the top rim beside where the phone charms hung: it looked like some sort of drone had taken hold of it, like a parasite and its host. Thus, it donned abominable arms and legs, ready to rampage, giving a staticky screech.

   Gakuto grit his teeth through the horrendous noise. Romin stood there, stunned, by the utter impossibility of a monster looming and screeching in front of her. A monster that had somehow spawned from her phone - and that was definitely her phone case and phone charms.

   “I was hoping that Muse would do the explaining, but there’s no time for that.” Gakuto said, his voice projecting far and wide. He ripped off his Cafe Muse apron and replaced it with a lab coat. “Enter! Muse Duellist: the Heroine Who Fights Armageddon with Song! Musa, begin protocol M-U-Five-Three!”

  The little animatronic known as Musa began to chirp and chatter. Its little fuzzy wings began to buzz and it revealed the maw that it hid. Romin squeaked in surprise as the little critter tried to escape her finger and it forced itself in her face. It bore its tongue at her and atop its tongue there was a strange, teeny-tiny item that looked like it belonged in some sort of dolly’s playset. It looked like a stick decorated with an… R?

   Whatever it was, Musa spat it in Romin’s face and it hit her right across the bridge of her nose. She flinched and she had no idea what was happening next. There was another bright light - white, this time, rather than the yellow of the prior explosion - and then her body was just moving on its own.

   The little trinket that had been inside of Musa became a scepter for Romin to wield and from the R-shaped charm atop its crown, ribbons flew out and captured her. The next thing she knew, she was all gifted up in pantyhose and frills. The fashionable, heavy metal style clothes she had been wearing before turned into something truly a one-eighty to her usual.

   Romin’s hair, once down, was now up in twin tails adorned with red ribbons. She was wearing a frilly little dress that was pink and white with gold buttons down her sternum. The cherry red high heels were cute though, even if Romin had no idea where any of this wardrobe change came from - or how it had happened at all. She just felt like it happened in an instant, from nowhere but that white light.

   Gakuto grinned, “Yes!” he yelled. “Yes, here she is! The magical girl who shall champion humanity and keep us on an eternal road: Muse Duellist.”

   “Muse who?” Romin yelped as she scrambled in her ankle breakers close to Gakuto since he seemed to have some idea of what was going on, as insane as it was.

   “Muse Duellist, of course, the one who will destroy Dr. Ohdo’s terrible Roads and save the day! The future! The entire world!” Gakuto said and he struck a sharp pose for emphasis.

   Romin’s jaw just dropped. She could not take this man seriously at all.

   “Now go, Muse Duellist, save us all with your song.” Gakuto said and he pointed at the monster.

   The sun was glaring off. It leered and loomed and now that they were making a lot of noise, it seemed more than content to rampage. Merely taking a step forward with its gargantuan body was enough to crack and crater the pavement below.

   Romin squeaked, “Play music? Yeah, that I can do. Dunno about that other stuff.” she said.

   “I’ll support you as best I can,” Gakuto said and from inside his sweater vest, he drew out a handheld device, “this can detect any robot’s weakness, with just a mighty Scholar Scan, we’ll be able to take it down.”

   Romin nodded her head, she had no idea why but she was going along with it. She may as well. It was likely her only option to get out of this crazy situation at all.

   “Now go forth!” Gakuto yelled. “Sing your song, Muse Duellist!”

   “Okay,” Romin said, her voice completely neutral, “so where’s my guitar?” 

   Gakuto blinked, “Your guitar…?” he echoed.

   “Yeah, I’m lead guitarist, not lead singer, you know that, right?” Romin pointed out.

   “But you're in a band, surely you can sing, right?” Gakuto said, blinking again. “Muse Duellist’s entire schtick is that she sings a song that reverberates at the correct frequency to disable and disassemble Dr. Ohdo’s Road.”

   Romin blushed, she toyed with the scepter that she held, it was actually quite light-weight and even fun to play with, “I’m tone deaf. I can carry a tune with a guitar, not my vocal chords.”

   “Pardon?” Gakuto said in a tiny voice.

   “I’m a horrible singer.” Romin reiterated.

   Gakuto’s eyes glazed over. He had done hours and hours of research into Kirishima Romin and the band she was a part of, RoaRomin. He learned all her favourite foods, that her blood type was AB, that her zodiac sign was Pisces. He had even happened across her three sizes and her grades even so far back as elementary school. He had scoured dozens of magazines and gossip websites and plenty more too. 

   Everything that he researched just confirmed in his mind that Kirishima Romin would make the perfect Muse Duellist; he even fashioned the accessory that adorned the Muse Scepter after her initial because of this certainty. Not once did any of these sources that he had inquired into ever mentioned that, apparently, famous guitarist Kirishima Romin was a terrible, no good, horrible singer. It simply did not compute with Gakuto who felt his heart and pride shrink in on themselves.

   So, in an even tinier voice than before, Gakuto uttered, “We are so screwed.”

   That they were, that they were.

   The monster lumbered over and smashed an arm down through where they stood. Romin jumped out of the way, shrieking, but Gakuto was knocked down again. The telephone monster’s fist broke the pavement there, too. Shards of concrete spiked up from the ground. It gave another, awful screech which was raw and staticky. 

   Gakuto groaned. His pants ripped at the knees and he was seeing stars. Most of them around Romin, his dear Muse Duellist. 

   Romin felt her heart steel. Gakuto could be hurt. Severely wounded, even. And she had just dashed away like it was nothing, there was something about these clothes, as impractical as they were, which gave her an agility she didn’t realise she had. Gakuto was practically defenseless compared to her. She had to do something. He had entrusted her with this power for some weird, cosmic reason, so may as well use it.

   “Hi-yah!” Romin yelled as she surged forward.

   She ran towards the monster and hit it with the scepter. She bashed at its back side, over and over again. She grinned whilst doing it, her heart racing as she had an incredibly good time unleashing her inner brutality on it. Totally unafraid of either breaking the scepter or phone which had become the basis for this monster at all.

   It was just a shame that it didn’t seem to be doing much at all. Nothing except annoy the monster. It shifted slightly, pulled its arm away from Romin and lunged at her with the other. She yelled as she gave it a great swack, like it was from a baseball bat, and it turned into a gritty parry.

   Gakuto held his head and groaned. The Muse Scepter was not meant for close combat but he was suddenly glad that it was reinforced anyway. He knew that bright idea would come in handy for one reason or another.

   “Muse Duellist!” he yelled out but his voice had a loose tremble to it. “Use your Maximum Song!”

   “Who-? Oh right, me,” Romin murmured as she jumped back from the fray, trying to close in on Gakuto without luring the monster either, she turned her head, “wait, my what?” She took a few more steps back so she could regroup with Gakuto.

   Gakuto sighed, “Your Maximum Song,” he insisted, “even if you can’t sing, surely it’ll still work. Put your scepter in front of you, line up your mouth with the R, and sing, Muse Duellist!” He then used that Scholar Scanner of his and lined it up with the monster, like he was trying to take a photo of it.

   Romin screwed up her expression. It was a weird instruction but she did it anyway. There was a tremble in her forearms as she aligned her mouth with the R of the Muse Scepter. She swallowed and even though it was against the grain of her talents, she sang a note into the scepter.

   Her off-kilter note that she sang warbled through the R but it came out the other side as something else. A weak sonic boom of all things. Her eyes went wide as she managed to shoot her shot though, damaging the side of the monster. But that just made it mad.

   The monster shuddered and gave an even grander screech than before. It caused more branches to fall off trees and for tiles on the roof to come loose. It shook the foundations of the cafe, even. Gakuto and Romin could hardly withstand the aural assault but they managed.

   Gakuto held onto Romin and he pulled himself up. Romin struggled with Gakuto’s weight but came good once he was on his own two feet. He placed his arm around her waist and brandished a fan - she had no idea where it came from - with passion.

   “Seize the sonic wave, Muse Duellist!” he yelled in her ear with a flourish of his fan. “According to my Scholar Scanner, this monster’s weak point is in the middle of its top vertice so aim there.”

   “Got it.” Romin nodded.

   Gakuto held her steady whilst Romin wielded her scepter once more. Knowing it's true function as a long range, sound based weapon, having given it a crash test, she felt more confident with it. She took a huge breath and felt her diaphragm flex. Even if she didn’t know how to sing in a way that sounded good, at least she knew how to sing in a way that was good for her body.

   Romin moved the scepter upwards, she tilted her chin up, too. She could see that funny little device at the top of her phone which had caused this monstrosity to become a monstrosity in the first place. The weak point, she didn’t even need the Scholar Scanner to realise that. Holding on tight to the sceptre, Romin used her finishing attack: her Maximum Song.

   She sang the opening lyrics of RoaRomin’s most iconic song into the R of the sceptre and the effect was immediate. It wasn’t just a sonic wave, it was a sonic boom. It was enough to flatten the vicinity of the cafe, Romin and Gakuto barely holding onto each other through the immensity of the sound.

   The monster screeched out but began to crack. The sonic boom had been concentrated, funneled through the hole of the R and it assailed the top vertice of the monster. It tried to resist but it began to buzz. To fumble. Its body fell away, piece by piece and Romin could hardly believe her eyes as every iota of the machine was just shed so easily.

   Then poof! Another explosion and the monster disappeared. Became its omega and its alpha: in other words, Romin’s phone and Dr. Ohdo’s device that he used to turn it into a monster. 

   Romin squealed as she raced forward, catching her phone before it could crash land into the ground. Gakuto was also hot on her heels, catching the Road that had infected the technology. They both sighed in relief as neither seemed too damaged and then exchanged a smile.

   “Well…” Romin murmured, her high heels clicking as she dawdled, “I think we can call that a success.”

   “I think we can.” Gakuto said.

   Romin leaned over and peered over Gakuto’s arms. She looked at what he was holding, cupped, in his hands. Some sort of tiny, green drone with frazzled, yellow eyes.

   “What is that?” Romin asked, blinking.

   “A Kaizo.” Gakuto replied gravely. “One of Dr. Ohdo’s favourite inventions. It's a versatile Road and seeing what chaos it caused today, one he has improved of late.”

   “But we broke it, right? Destroyed it? So it's all good, right? We saved the day and never have to do this Muse Duellist thing ever again, yeah?” Romin asked, rambling.

   Gakuto shook his head, “This fight was just the first of who knows how many. Your duty as the champion of humanity’s future, ensuring that we have one, just begun, Miss Kirishima.”

   “Wh-What?!” Romin stammered in exclamation.

   Gakuto put his hand firmly on Romin’s shoulder, “Worry not, you will do well. I shall assist you above and beyond all expectations.” His mind was already brimming with calculations and ideas on how to improve the Muse Sceptre now that he had seen Romin action as a close quarters combatant rather than a ranged attacker like he expected.

   “That’s not really the-” Romin gave up mid-sentence. Gakuto was practically shining with his conviction so she sighed. “As long as it doesn’t interfere with any commitments I have with my band.”

   “Thank you, Romin, I have no doubt you will be hailed and regarded extremely well in the future, once we have acquired its certainty. We will not allow Dr. Ohdo to end our road in armageddon.” Gakuto said firmly.

   “Yeah…” Romin murmured and she looked around, her eyes went wide as she realised that two people were standing them, half-crouched, hands reached up and they were twirling brushes in their fingers like they were meant to be bouquets. “Um, who are…?” She looked around in panic and realised that the impacts and craters from their fight, the fallen branches, a lot of it had been cleaned up and away somehow.

   “These are my trusty assistants, Ranze and Rinnosuke, they will be assisting us in our endeavour to protect the future as well.” Gakuto explained.

   “Okay, well, good to meet you both.” Romin said.

   They ceased their stagehanding with the brushes and got up. They saluted Romin and appeared to return her sentiments: it was good to meet her, too.

   “So, um, how do I get out of this outfit?” Romin asked in a small voice. “Just by the way.”

   “Musa, activate protocol Three-Five-U-M.” Gakuto recited.

   “Mu-Mu-Musa!” Musa chirped.

   Romin was flung asunder again, this time in reverse from before. The Muse Sceptre vibrated in her hands and began the de-transformation process. She was forcibly put through the wringer and when she came out the side, her hair was down, her beret was back, and she was wearing her cut-out denim jeans again. She couldn’t believe it.

   Her sceptre had also become that tiny little charm again - the Tuning Pick - in her hand. Knowing the safest spot for it was inside Musa, she offered it to the little guy who was brimming with jubilance as it hovered around her like an enthusiastic fly. It happily swallowed up the Tuning Pick and Romin sighed, exhausted.

   “What a day it’s been…” she mumbled and felt her stomach growl.

   “And what a future it shall be,” Gakuto reminded her and Romin look up at him, the weirdo in a lab coat, shiny orange glasses, he looked bizarre but he also looked like he knew what he was doing, he offered her his hand, “and to thank you for your services, would you like an early dinner with us?”

   Romin smiled and she took his hand, she felt her heart skip a beat and now she was the one enamoured with this person from an entirely different world to her, “That would be lovely, thank you. I’ll let my chauffeur know that I’ll be a bit longer.”

   “Sounds good.” Gakuto agreed, squeezing her hand, noticing the callouses on her fingertips, and so ending the beginning of Muse Duellist’s saga to protect the future through song on a happy note.

[ofstarsandfireflies]

@just-inside-her asked for this one, which was going to be part of January but I moved it off the list to fit others in so we got it this month!

Stephen has been waiting for the day for Tony to return to him ever since the man beat Kingpin and had to go into hiding.

Due to their relationship, what remains of the Avengers have been keeping a close watch on him, waiting for him to lead them to wherever Tony is.

It’s been two years, and neither of them have received word on his whereabouts or whether he’s still alive.

That is, until Stephen’s usual routine is disrupted by a letter with the Stark Industries letter head, and a message in Tony’s handwriting telling him to board a specific train and find someone with his height and build on it to make the Avengers think it’s him so they’ll leave Stephen in peace.

Stephen manages to shake the surveillance team and boards the train, finding a spare seat in front of a man who introduces himself as ‘Robert’ and smoking a fake cigarette.

This man will do.

He has brown hair where Tony had black, brown eyes where Tony had blue, stubble where a neatly trimmed beard should be and, most importantly, an English accent where Tony was American.

They talk for a while, Robert doing most of it as he can’t seem to shut up in front of this handsome stranger.

But they’re not alone.

Both Natasha and Clint have boarded the train and have even taken a photo of Robert, sending it back to HQ to the only one who never gave up on finding Tony.

Vision.

For the past two years he’s been scouring the Internet for any traces of the man who had had a hand in creating his existence.

He’s kept an eye on social media, on banking records, waiting for Tony’s name to pop up somewhere or for the billions of dollars he’d pulled from his bank accounts to appear suddenly.

But it never happened.

He’s especially frantic to find him now because King Pin just broke out of jail, and Vision knows Tony’s at the top of his shit list.

But he’s making it rather difficult to track down.

So when he receives the photo Nat and Clint have sent to him, he can’t help but think that it is Tony.

It’s only when he finds Robert’s passport photo and everything checks out that his hope dies again.

The guy Stephen is talking to is no more than a tourist.

Parting ways when their train comes to a stop, they quickly find one another again when Stephen asks Robert if he’d like a lift, taking him to the expensive Hotel where he and Tony would usually stay.

The room is beautifully decorated, and when Stephen enters the bedroom, he finds the wardrobe filled with expensive clothes, colognes and watches, gifts he knows are from Tony.

Robert has no idea what he’s doing here, but gets dressed into one of the suits he’s packed so they can go out for dinner.

After making a fool of himself when he sees Stephen dressed up, they have a nice dinner where they enjoy themselves, Stephen noticing how he’s still being followed.

It’s only after they get back that Robert points out the huge bouquet of flowers that definitely wasn’t there before they left, and an envelope.

Within the envelope addressed to Stephen is an invite to a ball two nights from now.

This is where he’ll see Tony again.

He’s waited two years, what’s two more days?

But there’s still the case of the Avengers.

They haven’t approached him yet, so he knows he hasn’t fooled them completely into thinking this man is Tony.

So, Stephen does the only thing he can think of that would put more suspicion on this man.

He kisses him while they stand on the balcony, in full view of the people he knows are watching.

And a small part of him thrills when Robert kisses him back.

He could almost picture Tony in his place when he closed his eyes.

Robert’s arms come up to hold him and Stephen stops before this can progress any further, offering the couch for him to sleep on while he makes his way to the single bedroom.

It’s as he’s undressing, he hears the doorknob of his room turning.

He pauses to watch, waiting to see what Robert will do.

It turns a little more, almost fully, but Robert reconsiders and makes his way to the couch.

And Stephen doesn’t know why he’s disappointed.

The next morning, Robert wakes to find room service has brought him breakfast, courtesy of Stephen, who has left him alone.

And since he’s alone in the room where Tony’s lover is staying, Kingpin’s men descend on it, forcing Robert to make his escape through the window of the bathroom and across the rooftop of the next building, catching the eye of everyone in the streets below, including Stephen, who is just as shocked to bear witness to what this man is doing and just who is chasing after him.

Of course he had to go and persuade the wrong people that Robert was Tony.

Unable to use his magic and cause even more commotion amongst the people when he was trying not to draw attention to himself, Stephen whispers a command to his cloak, which quickly slips down an alley, up the side of the building and plants itself on the ground, ripping out from under the men chasing Robert, catching them off guard and making them tumble down to the street.

When Robert looks behind him and sees that Stephen has somehow appeared behind him instead of the men who had been chasing him, he stops running and starts asking questions.

And that’s how Robert learns about Tony.

The man Stephen loves.

The man Stephen is putting his life and Robert’s life in danger for.

The man he hasn’t seen for two years.

And with his questions answered, Stephen sends him through a portal to the train station, a bag of necessities falling out of another portal beside him.

But Robert can’t leave.

Not now he’s in love with Stephen.

While Robert is out purchasing a much nicer suit than the one he brought with him with the money Stephen gave him, Stephen is finally meeting up with Vision, who is not happy about Stephen’s attitude the past three years, one of which he was with Tony before he suddenly disappeared.

Both of them should know that the Avengers could help in protecting them, they were both Avengers themselves, but Stephen just shakes his head.

Keeping their distance from the Avengers has been part of the plan.

No need for anyone to die just to protect a billionaire, as Tony had put it.

So, running out of questions and patience, Vision asks why Stephen has finally agreed to meet up with them.

How it couldn’t possibly have anything to do with the tourist Stephen seems to fancy.

And Stephen tells him about the ball tonight, and how Tony will be there.

Except, he isn’t.

At the ball, another letter addressed to him arrives, from a man who could only be Tony.

But when Stephen loses him in the crowd, Robert appears, putting their little operation in jeopardy

Stephen can’t just send him through another portal with so many people around, opting instead to go after Tony, but Robert stands in his way and offers his hand to dance.

And Stephen takes it.

He tries to tell him that he’s in danger here, that Kingpin’s men are still after him and he has to leave.

Robert refuses.

It’s only when Stephen tells him he was just using him that Robert lets Stephen go, and Stephen opens the letter from Tony, which contains a key and an address.

Stephen goes there immediately, having just let himself inside when the door opens.

And Kingpin walks in.

Stephen barely has time to move before his henchmen are pointing their guns at him, forcing him to sit on the couch as they wait for Tony Stark to finally arrive.

Five minutes pass.

Then ten.

Still no sign of Tony.

Kingpin begins his exposition about how being thrown in jail cost him Vanessa, about how Stark went for her to get to him like a coward instead of coming straight to him like a man.

How he will kill Stephen if Tony does not show his face in the next five minutes.

Vision has been listening in to all of this with Robert, who had tried going after Stephen before Nat and Clint grabbed him.

Robert is concerned about Stephen and about the threat from Kingpin.

But Vision’s not concerned at all, he knows Tony wouldn’t let anyhint happen and will come for him, all they have to do is wait.

But he doesn’t.

Just when Kingpin is about to give the order, Stephen spies a large medallion of the eye of Agamotto set into the wall of the fireplace.

He knows there’s a safe behind it, and upon telling Kingpin, manages to draw his attention away from killing him for the time being.

Only, when the safe is revealed, they realise they need a seven-digit code to open it.

And the only person who could possibly know it, who they have here right now, is Stephen.

Robert is trying to make Vision send his men in, but Vision isn’t listening.

He knows Tony will come.

He knows him, knows how much he loves Stephen, so he has to.

Stephen is brought to the safe, racking his brains to form a code.

Maybe a date?

Or even a word when spelled on a numbered keypad?

At his first attempt at the code, he enters 4766626

IRONMAN

The button turns red.

Kingpin doesn’t see this as Stephen not knowing.

He thinks he’s trying to buy time until Tony get there.

So he gives him one last try.

And Stephen can’t think.

What else could it be?

Avenger?

America?

Industry?

There were too many possibilities and he only had one chance.

283...

It had to Avenger.

They were the reason he hadn’t gone to them for help.

They were the reason they’d met, what they both were.

It has to be...

643...

His finger hovered over the 7.

And just as he was about to press it, he heard someone call out his name.

What.

The hell.

Was Robert doing here?

Guns turned on the tourist he’d roped into all of this, the men working for Kingpin looking to their boss, who walked up to the idiot who was now claiming to be Tony Stark.

Kingpin looked him over, noticing the details of his face which had changed drastically in the last two years.

Robert didn’t seem intimidated by him, standing up taller despite his short stature.

And then Kingpin began laughing.

Was this another ploy to await Stark’s grand return?

Very well.

There really was only one way to find out if this man was Tony.

He’d have to open the safe.

Robert tries to secure Stephen’s safety in exchange for his help, but everyone just turns their guns on the Sorcerer, who gives Robert a sad smile.

So, having little choice, Robert walks towards the safe.

Towards Stephen.

He keeps his eyes on him, wanting Stephen to be the last thing he sees before they’re killed.

And just as he reaches it, just when he sees Stephen mouth the words he’s longed to hear, Nick Fury takes control of Vision’s operation and demands for Kingpin to be taken out.

Stephen breathes a sigh of relief and turns to Robert, and then the safe where he’s completed the code.

7837436

STEPHEN

And the button turns green.

Quotes -

“Do you mind me smoking? It’s not a real cigarette.”

“What?”

“It’s electronic. It delivers the same amount of nicotine, but the smoke is water vapour. Yeah. Watch. LED light.”

“That’s somewhat disappointing.”

“Would you rather have me smoking for real?”

“I would rather you be a man who did exactly as he pleased.”

“...”

Stephen chooses Robert for his plan

“You tell me what my story is.”

“Okay, um, I think you would be diplomatic attaché. Or maybe a girl from East Germany...whose father’s been kidnapped...and they’re blackmailing you into stealing something for them. Probably a microfilm. There’s usually a microfilm involved.”

“What awaits me?”

“Trouble, certainly.”

“Danger?”

“Oh, yeah. You’ll most likely be shot in less than two chapters.”

“Is there a man in my life?”

“Have to wait and see.”

Robert getting a little flustered

“Fuck.”

“...?”

“You’re ravenous.”

“Do you mean ravishing?”

“I do.”

“You’re ravenous.”

“I am.”

Not the best attempt at flirting

“Why is all this happening? Why is everyone trying to kill me?”

“It’s because I kissed you.”

“...Do I look that much like him?”

“I am sorry I got you involved in all this.”

“Why are you involved in all this?”

“Because I’m in love with him.”

“Really? I’m not.”

Robert learns about Tony

“It’s just who he is.”

“Could you ever feel like that about someone like me?”

“...”

“I don’t regret it, you know...kissing you.”

Robert’s fallen in love with Stephen, and Stephen is starting to fall for him too.

January, February

Missed a Day? Catch up here!

Day 1 Day 2

You aren’t what you say you are -

Tony has been in hiding for two years, but while Stephen still waits for him to come back, another man catches his eye.

[omniswords]

Chronicles of a Parisian Dumbass 14

Happy Chronicles Update! I promise I'm still trucking along on this baby. I think?? We've also officially reached the halfway mark on this installment, which is kind of. Wow. That's WILD.

anyway, I hope you enjoy!

welcome to today’s episode of Luka’s Word to the Wise: whatever it is, it doesn’t have to be perfect. it just has to be good.

thanks, I.

Ivan is right. And technically, so is his Ma, who’s been telling him and Juleka this for as long as he can remember. But Luka will give them the gratification of saying I told you so when this is all over. Even though he could take a stab in the dark and guess that only one of them would take him up on that offer. And it wouldn’t be Ivan. And it wouldn’t be his Ma.

In between messaging back and forth with Bubbles over the next couple of days, Luka puts together a flyer. It’s not exactly the best—just something he threw together on one of those free graphic design websites, definitely nothing like a Gabriel billboard. But it’s punchy, and it fits the vibe, and it gets the overall message across. And more importantly, Juleka doesn’t give him The Look for it. In fact, she smiles over his shoulder when it’s done, and she rubs her fist in his hair, and she affectionately says, “Now can you chill?”

Luka only grins and throws her into a fireman’s carry for another round of ping-pong. He’s pretty sure he doesn’t know how to be totally chill any more.

They pool pocket money, leftovers from past paychecks, to put in an order for copies at the local print shop. Only Rose has ever been; she tells them she’s tagged along with a couple of old friends from an art club to print issues of the comic they’ve been working on together. It’s nice to see her take the lead, point out the best paper stocks and finishes and spot colors, whatever those are, based on what she’s overheard. It certainly beats the alternative: four barely-adults standing awkwardly at the counter, pretending they know what they’re doing.

Even if, according to Luka’s Ma, that’s most of what adulthood is, anyway.

They decide on something glossy because it makes the colors pop, and admittedly Luka has to thank his lucky, anxious stars for saving the file in every format imaginable because he wasn’t sure which one they’d need. Before he leaves them and heads to work on his bike, Juleka gives him another smile, and Ivan manages a single, subtle nod, and Rose’s eyes sparkle. And it’s starting to feel a little less like a thing he needs to do. It’s a thing he wants to do. With them.

And, well. Any bonuses are just that. Bonuses.

These days, Luka’s made it a point to bike past the bakery on his way to work, because if he’s as much of a regular as the Dupain-Cheng family claims, then he might as well act like it. To be fair, he doesn’t always stop in to talk or buy something; in fact, most times he doesn’t. maybe it’s some silly sense of hope that he’ll be seen. That Marinette really did talk to her parents about picking up an extra shift or two behind the counter. That there’s still room on the bulletin board for him—them. And most times, it is just Mrs. Cheng at the storefront, organizing displays or chatting with a friendly customer.

But sometimes it isn’t. Sometimes it is Marinette, idly staring at the window with what he can only assume is her sketchbook at her side and her apron tied around her waist. And sometimes, she looks up at him. And sometimes, she waves and smiles with all the warmth and none of the sweat of July.

That’s why he does it. For the sometimes.

The flyers, once they’re printed, are nothing short of gorgeous, but Luka can’t bring himself to take any of the credit for it. More than anything, he’s just happy to see his bandmates all in on this, even if he did jump in with both feet. Even if they do still rib him during practice about how he’s way too invested in this. (At least Mylène has only nice things to say. He’ll have to remember to order a few extra pastries just for her.)

They split the flyers into four stacks, because of course Mylène insists on helping and of course Rose and Juleka insist on going together. They run or pedal off in different directions once they’ve put a game plan together, and at least Luka can credit them for not teasing when he offers to take the third and fourth arrondissement. They all know it’s where the bakery is, in spite of how he talks up the Place des Vosges. They know, and they don’t have to say anything.

He’s still trying to figure out whether it’s a blessing or a curse to have your real-life friends on your social media accounts.

Even as he’s hanging the flyers in downtown coffee shops, in libraries, on signposts and public bulletin boards, Luka can’t stop staring. With every flyer he pins or tapes up, he finds something new to love about it. A splash of neon color in the top left corner. The jagged, cutting edges of the lettering. The blurred glow of a spotlight. Every time he looks, he gets the feeling that he’s already there. Music pounding in his ears, stage lights burning so bright and hot they make him sweat, fresh calluses on his fingertips that he’ll regret and adore later. He doesn’t think of stardom often, but he imagines this is something close to it.

At the very least, it’s what he would want to make of it.

It’s close to closing by the time Luka arrives at the bakery-patisserie; the usual lingering smells of fresh bread and sugary frosting and the easygoing music are both conspicuously absent when he walks in. But Mr. Dupain and Ms. Cheng are both missing from the storefront, and he has to double check the time on his phone to make sure he didn’t accidentally arrive too late, or that he’s not interrupting some closing routine. It shouldn’t take long; he spent almost the whole bike ride over rehearsing what he needed to say. He looks around cautiously, even clears his throat in case it gets someone’s attention.

It does. Marinette pops up from behind the counter with a squeak, and it startles him so much he nearly drops the stack of remaining flyers in his arms. And that would’ve been a pain in the ass as much as it would’ve been straight out of one of Rose’s cute romcoms for Marinette to round the counter and help him pick them up until their hands brushed over the same one.

Jesus. He really needs to get out of the house on his sister’s date nights.

He really needs to have a date night.

He also really needs to stop thinking about date nights when the person he’d actually consider a date night with is right in front of—

“Luka?”

He blinks to attention, standing awkwardly in the quiet. God, he really hopes he wasn’t staring at her when he zoned out like that. “Sorry,” he mumbles.

Marinette shrugs it off with an apologetic smile. “We’re fresh out of napoleons, you know,” she says casually, slipping past him to flip the sign on the door. “Guess you’ll just have to come first thing tomorrow morning.”

“Yeah, I guess I will—wait—” He shakes his head. “No, that’s not why I’m here.”

Marinette pauses at that. Even seems to stand a little taller, intrigued. Hopeful? “Oh…? Then why…  are you here?”

Meekly, Luka holds up one of the Kitty Section flyers and nods toward the bulletin board. Here’s hoping he—it— isn’t too much of a disappointment.

Marinette squints at the flyer for a second, and then her eyes widen and spark in delight. She looks… impressed, at least. which isn’t to say she’s never seemed impressed by him before. It just makes all the things he’s been working for a little more worth it. “Wow,” she says. “You really weren’t kidding about being in a band, huh.”

“You know it,” he says with what he prays is a casual shrug; this… wasn’t part of the script. “I don’t wear this thing on my back just to look pretty.”

She stifles a laugh, then claps a hand to her mouth immediately. “Sorry, I didn’t—I wasn’t implying that you’re not handsome—pretty— “

Oh God. She’s stammering. And it’s adorable.

Marinette composes herself with a deep breath and her arms folded over her chest. “There are pushpins in the corner,” she says. “Hang it up wherever you want.”

Except Luka can’t help feeling like she’s got her eyes on him the whole time. Either she’s coming to terms with the fact that he was telling the truth all along, or she’s… judging him. Or the flyer. And honestly, he can’t tell which is worse. “What’s wrong?” he asks once he notices she’s still staring. “Did I put it up at a funny angle or something?”

“No, just… thinking…” Her voice sounds distant, perhaps somewhere he might never find her. But then she snaps her fingers, and she says, “That’s it!”

“Uh.” Luka’s brow furrows. “What’s it?”

“Oh, just… sorry, my thoughts just ran away with me, I guess.” Marinette steps toward the flyer, brushing her fingers over it and wincing. maybe it’s just from the finish; his nails have scraped over then more than once, and it felt just as bad as a chalkboard. “I was just thinking, well…  you’ve been good to my parents and all. Why don’t we help you with promotion? You know, put postcards in the boxes or bags. It couldn’t hurt, could it?”

Luka nearly spotters, but the only thing he can manage to say is, “Where am I gonna get postcards?”

“I can make ‘em.” She says it like the simplest, most obvious thing in the world, and looks him up and down when he falters. “If… you and your band are okay with that, I mean. Cause I, y’know… dabble, in graphic design. But I don’t want to impose, if you’re okay with this. It’s your band and all.”

“I can,” he starts to say; then he stops himself, awkwardly rubbing the back of his neck. “I can ask them?” Idiot, he thinks. That wasn’t supposed to be a question. “I’ll let you know what they say. Have to come in bright and early tomorrow anyway, right?”

Marinette only smiles. It’s faint, almost absentminded, but that sweet little tug at the corner of her mouth is hardly lost on him. “You don’t have to.”

“Ask them?”’

“Come by.” Her bag is hanging on a peg by the register, and she’s off rummaging through it before Luka can ask what she means. He gravitates toward her more than he actually walks to her, and by the time he reaches the counter she’s fishing a card out of her wallet. It’s pink and black, decorated with the same spray of flowers and monogram as her apron. when he turns it over, there’s her name at the top, and below that, two email addresses. And two phone numbers.

He looks up, wide-eyed.

“So,” Marinette says. “Unless you’re coming all this way for a napoleon, a pear tart, and my pretty face, I think you’re good.”

“I—” Luka turns the business card over and over as though it will teach him now to speak again. “I guess so.” Does she know he thinks her face is pretty? Wait—of course she does, he gave her that note. Oh, Jesus, does she still have that thing? It’s been weeks. “Well,” he says, scuffing his heel against the tile. “Who knows. Maybe I’ll come anyway.”

Okay, that was definitely not part of the script.

But then, neither is the way her eyes are sparkling. “Well,” she murmurs. “Maybe you will.”

“I should, uh—” He jerks a thumb toward the door. “Go, um. Happy closing?”

She laughs behind a hand, glancing between him and the tacked-up flyer before she grabs a broom and sends him off with a delicate wave. And to be honest, Luka’s never been angry with nature before, but he curses the wind for being so loud that he can’t hear that giggle in his head, over and over. Almost as much as he thanks it for drowning out all the stupid things he said, and the lingering questions of why she offered at all.

Luka’s Word to the Wise, Part 2:

Progress isn’t linear but it sure as hell doesn’t mean you can’t stutter your way through getting a girl’s number and succeed.

[blue-angel-wings]

Bishop Drabble - take your times

18+ (because I got a little nasty for a brief moment hehe)

Characters: Bishop Losa x Reader (Y/N), basically all the Mayans briefly but mainly Angel, Coco, Gilly.

Summary: Reader is a single mum and close with the Mayans specifically Bishop, because they crushing on each other. And Emily Galindo being a bitch because I don’t like her 😊.

Warnings: Cursing, horny talks but not full blown smut, slight talk of injuries.

Word count: 3,768 it’s longer because I got carried away 😈

You had known the Mayans since you were little, although your Father wasn’t a patch he always helped them.

As a day job your Father owned a small car dealership and would often frequent Romero scrap and salvage for odd pieces to use on whatever new vehicle he was working on, but behind the calm face of a man who liked cars and bikes, was a trained assassin, murder for hire, hitman, whatever you wanted to call it. So over time your Dad did jobs for the Mayans. Through that they met you and whilst your Mother didn’t really like the Mayans knowing your family she had to admit it was useful always having a group of knights in shiny leather to hand.

Your father had been killed one a run with them when you were sixteen years old, and ever since then the club had take your Fathers place with you and your mother. She worked the bar sometimes and whilst you chose to work elsewhere you always attend the parties, well as much as you could whilst also being a single parent. At the age of eighteen you became a mother to a beautiful baby boy you lovingly named Rio. The guys were shocked but supportive and excited for the new little baby in their lives. The Dad of your son decided that a baby wouldn’t work for him so he ran. Not like you needed him.

Yours and Bishop’s relationship had only just started, you had been on a few dates but you spoke constantly and you may have slept with him on a few occasions, because who could resist a man like that. He had started to find you attractive once you showed up more. For your safety and now Rio’s your Mother kept you away from the guys until you were in your twenties, so when you turned twenty one and could legally drink you knew exactly where you were going to get wasted for the first time. The clubhouse.

Ever since Bishop saw you in a tiny black dress that made your body just look too good he knew we wanted you but stayed back not wanting to look like a perv who only dated girls half his age. He admired you for years, how you raised Rio somewhat alone, how you always helped the club without a complaint, how you deeply cared for the guys and he just couldn’t helped that he fell for you more and more.

But he was done waiting and at Rio’s eighth birthday party, whilst you stood there playing nice with the other parents from the prestigious school you sent Rio to, and whilst wearing jeans that Bishop swore were painted on, he asked you out.

You thanked the heavens he did because you were getting sick of the waiting game.

A few months had passed and although you had been on dates, Bishop was yet to ask you to be his. It was almost like he was still scared that you would reject him. During the day he was almost shy around you not saying much or interacting with you as much as you hoped almost like he feared he would say or do something wrong, but at night he’d have you shaking in ecstasy on a bed drenched with your arousal, whilst whispering the nastiest shit you’d ever heard.

You didn’t think too much about it you knew he loved you deep down he was just struggling to say it, he had no problem showing it through his actions and you saw the way he looked at you when he thought you weren’t looking. But saying the words that would make you his girl officially, he just couldn’t manage do that.

At Rio’s birthday he had been gifted a skate board. A small red plank of wood you swore would be the end of your son. And although Angel had also purchased a helmet to go with it, your son seemingly refused to wear it. He constantly rode it without the helmet no matter how much you asked him to, it was like he was allergic.

You had taken the board away once he started to show zero regard for himself and others. Swerving through people on the sidewalk was okay if it was quiet and people moved out the way in time, but once he started heading towards the roads without his helmet you called time on his little Tony Hawk phase.

A few weeks passed before he grew restless and bored without it. He had come looking for you with full safety gear on, helmet, knee pads, elbow pads and little gloves. And you cracked, you gave him back his death board and sent him on his way.

Rio’s school was just out of Santo Padre and about 45 mins away from your home, it was a bit of nuisance being so far from you but your son was smart, too smart. He had eidetic imagery or as some would say photographic memory. He had shown signs when he was little, about 4 or 5, when he was able to recall in perfect detail his toys as if they were still there in front of you. It was terrifying to you but when the doctor explained what it was you were stunned. Due to his abilities you sent him to a school that burned a whole in your pockets each month but was perfect for your little boy. He loved it, he excelled at all subjects aced every test and had a big group of friends that were surprisingly pleasant children.

The Mayans clubhouse was only twenty minutes away from Rio’s school. And when work had started to get busier, you couldn’t pick him up from school anymore. You generally finished worked at the boutique in town at 4:30 an hour after Rio had finished school, you hadn’t given him a key to the house out of fear he would lose it, so you suggested he’d ride his board to the clubhouse and then once you were done you would pick him up. It worked out great, the guys loved having him there and you got to see Bishop more.

The guys were just chilling at the club, the younger ones were playing poker and smoking whilst the elders were in templo.

‘What the fuck prospect!?’ Slamming his cards on the table in a frenzy, Coco practically threw his money at the chuckling Ezekiel who in return shook his head at the snipers antics.

‘Not a prospect anymore bro, imma patch now.’ He said smugly, pointing lazily at the patch on his kutte.

‘Keep taking my money and I will change that real quick.’ Coco was pissed, he owed Ez about $300 from just this afternoon alone.

At the front porch Angel and Gilly were working the yard when they heard the slight rattling of small wheels of the stones, lifting their heads just in time to see the arrival of Rio on his board. They had to admit when they purchased the board for him they were worried he’d be crap at it and give up, but we wasn’t. The guys sometimes rode behind him on their bikes just to watch his skate. It was mesmerising.

Happily finishing up their work, Angel nudged Gilly towards the clubhouse to tell the others of your son’s arrival.

‘Hey, Rio’s here.’ The larger man bellowed into the space causing the other Mayans to stop what they were doing and follow him out.

Outside Angel had Rio swinging from his neck, when Rio was around the Mayans he deliberately acted younger to get more attention, the guys didn’t do anything to stop him they enjoyed him acting all silly and somewhat babyish, it stopped the sad truth of him getting older right before their eyes from rising to the surface.

‘Hey little guy, how was the ride in?’ El presidente asked the boy whilst messing with his hair, that he spent hours getting perfect for school.

Bishop was closest to Rio, well joint with Angel. Rio saw Bishop as a father figure, much to your delight, and Angel as a brother figure.

‘It was okay, some car was following me really closely and honking at me.’ He pouted whilst spinning the wheels on his board.

The men perked up at the sound of somebody pestering the young boy.

‘ I don’t know why though, mama says I can ride in the road if I stay to the side out of the way with my helmet on.’ Rio didn’t seem to be upset, more worried he was defying your rules of riding his skateboard.

‘Well, what did the car look like?’ Creeper asked whilst blowing the smoke from his cigarette behind him, being mindful of the small child in front of him.

‘A black Lexus RX Hybrid, black tinted windows, driver was a middle aged male, bald, tattoos up his arms.....’ the boy rambled on, his memory working overtime. The guys stopped him mid way through not wanting him to worry himself with the stranger who was bothering him. They assured him he did nothing wrong and took him into clubhouse.

None of the other guys recognised description of the car or driver, but Ez did. He knew who was sat in the back of the vehicle, whilst they texted him and continued to call upon him every waking second of the day. He heard the sound of a car coming to a halt at the front of the scrap yard, he knew this was the car that was following Rio plus he saw the man Rio had described in great detail. He glanced at his phone to check if his suspicions were true. His screen was flooded with notifications of texts and calls, and some social media notifications, all from the same person.

Emily Galindo.

She had been contacting Ez, at first he didn’t mind the contact from his ex, he selfishly used to want the relationship to rekindle with the married woman, but now with Gabby in his life he didn’t, he wanted her gone. She nodded to his trailer, with a pleading look is her eyes he succumbed to her request, checked nobody was around and headed to his trailer.

‘Do you have any Capri-Suns i’m kinda thirsty?’ Rio asked, cheekily checking behind the bar for something to eat hoping one of guys would fulfil his request. Bishop smirked reached into the fridge round the corner and retrieved two orange Capri-Sun pouches and grasped the bag of Doritos they kept on top of the fridge for him to munch on as well.

‘How’s school going mate?’ Bishop genuinely enjoyed talking with Rio because he reminded him of you, he much like yourself, was so passionate even over the little things.

Bishop played with Rio’s discarded school tie, folding it neatly knowing you hated ironing it.

‘It was alright, we learning about dinosaurs in science which is cool cos I really like Jurassic park and I’m gonna ask mama later if we can watch it.’ Rio exclaimed loudly waving his hands around wildly. He continues to tell Bishop about school, avoiding telling him about the masses of homework that was set knowing the older man would tell him to do it and wouldn’t drop it until it was done. The conversation was interrupted by Angel who had just got finished on a call.

‘Hey Rio, your Mum just called saying she got caught up at work and won’t be picking up til 5.’ The oldest Reyes told the child who was seemingly unbothered by the change of plans, but the news had Bishop frowning, why didn’t you call him, you knew he didn’t have Templo today so he would have his phone on him?

‘Okay, can I go practice my kick flips out front?’ He asked the president.

‘Yeah sure, take one of guys to watch you incase you fall, and remember to map out where your skating with the cones.’

‘Yeah I think I can remember that.’ He teased the older man, by referencing his condition.

The guys had bought these little orange cones for him to use when he was skating in the yard so he didn’t get in the way of them working.

Bishop lightly shoved him in the direction of the door with a shake of his head, he needed to call you, the jealously he felt when you called Angel instead of him was growing unbearable. Was it Angel stretching out your tight little pussy each night? Was it Angel that had you screaming with his head between your legs? Was it Angel that you called Daddy? Was it Angel that had you making the most delicious moans?

No it wasn’t, it was Bishop.

So why weren’t you calling him?

It was 5:30 when you pulled up to the scrap yard to retrieve your child. You surveyed the grounds looking for Rio once you had parked. But when you were greeted with the noise of laughter, you opted to follow that. Turning off your car you headed to the front porch where a groaning Coco was laying on the floor clutching his arm. You walked over not too worried seeming as the sniper had sustained worse injuries than a scrape on the arm.

‘You okay there Coco baby?’

You squatted beside the man and glanced as the injury on his arm, there wasn’t more that’s a slight graze on his elbow however from he noises he was now making you’d think he’d been shot.

‘No! This piece of sh-‘ you clapped a hand over this mouth before he could finish once you realised that the giggling you heard earlier came from your son, who sat comfortably in Gilly’s lap at the bench a few feet away. Standing up, leaving Coco to get on with it, you walked over to your son to kiss his forehead.

‘You okay baby? School was good?’

‘Yeah it was good we are doing dinosaurs in science so I was wondering if I can watch Jurassic park tonight to learn more about T-rex’s, please? ‘ he pleaded with both hands clasped together.

‘Of course baby.’ You went to say more but you saw Bishop on the step, looking at you with an unreadable expression on his face.

You knew why though, in an attempt to push Bishop to ask you to his girl you messed with him a little by deliberately calling Angel instead of him to inform the guys of the change of plans. Normally you wouldn’t mess with the man who so clearly had control of the reigns in the relationship but you were sick of waiting, you wanted him and he wanted you, the hickies on your breasts and inner thighs confirming that.

You kissed Rio’s head and Gilly’s, once he jokingly pointed to his forehead, and headed towards Bishop. He turned without a word and heard towards the clubhouse, the guys waited a few minutes before following suit, not wanting to miss the potential start of your long awaited romance. Rio was left alone to skate outside after he said he wanted to practice a little more, Angel was happy to leave him out there alone knowing he could ride perfectly fine.

Bishop sat on a couch in the far corner and when you went to sit next to him he grasped your wrist and manoeuvred you onto his lap, well this is a good start you thought.

‘How was work?’ He asked whilst sneaking a peek at your cleavage that you pushed up slightly before you left work.

‘It was good, busy which is good. A little tired and my feet hurt.’ You answered, slightly wriggling your feet. Bishop caught on quickly, removing you shoes and and starting to rub your feet slightly, causing a slight moan to slip from your lips.

‘Y/N I want to ask you something.’

Here it comes, you acted calm almost ignorant to what he was saying but inside you were screaming.

‘I really like you and I love spending time with you, you make me feel like a little kid with his first crush. You’re my first thought in the morning and last thought at night. I wanna be with you always and forever, so i was won—‘

‘Hey!’

Bishop’s monologue was cut short by a small voice you recognised to be your son’s. Every head in the clubhouse turn so quickly you feared they all get whiplash.

Grabbing your shoes and placing them haphazardly on your feet you all but sprinted to the front porch, where the now female voice could be heard.

Running out you saw your son sat on the floor fighting back tears and Emily Galindo standing over him slightly. She obviously was leaving Ez’s trailer, because that’s what married women do, they meet with their ex’s in trailers behind their husband’s back.

‘Hey baby you okay, are you injured?’

You rushed to your sons side as well as Bishop, who carefully picks up Rio’s skate board that was currently sporting a large crack in the middle of the wood.

‘No, I’m okay mama.’ He whispered growing embarrassed at the crowd around him, his bottom lip started to tremble telling you that tears where only moments away. Bishop started brushing the hair off of Rio’s face to calm the young boy, he too knew Rio hated crying in front of crowds.

‘What happened sweetheart?’ You spoke quietly not wanting to blow up too much in front of your son, you’d had a long day at work and you didn’t have time for a confrontation today. You wanted this sorted so you can go back to Bishop and then go home.

‘He wasn’t watching where he was going!’ The blonde woman spoke, the venom in her voice unnecessary in this situation.

‘I wasn’t fucking talking to you!’ Apparently you did have time today. All heads snapped to you and Gilly managed to scoop Rio into his arms before you whipped yourself in front of the culprit of your son’s upset.

‘So that warrants you to push him!? A small, eight year old child!? Did you not see the cones hun? They are bright fucking orange, maybe if you lifted your head of your ex’s dick for a moment you would see my son skating out here.’ The guys were loving it, watching with smirks on their faces.

‘Somebody should’ve been watching him.’

‘Hah okay sweetheart.’ You scoffed, you worked in retail you could handle opportunists like Emily Galindo.

‘I’m hardly gonna take parenting advice from you, am I? Mrs Galindo.’ You emphasised her name in the hopes she’d remember her marriage and start acting like a wife.

‘What’s that supposed to mean?’

‘Well you’re hardly mother of the year, not after your practically gave your son away to a terrorist.’ You weren’t backing down, gasps were heard throughout the yard, the hang-arounds emerging in the hopes of a fight.

‘Thats not fair, they were armed and I was terrified.’ She tried to reason with you, who would try to rationalise their son’s kidnapping?

‘See that’s the difference between you and me, Emily, see they would have to pry my son from my cold, dead hands.’

‘They were shooting people right in front of me!’

‘I’d let them shoot every motherfucking bitch in this town before they ever laid a hand on my child!’

You screamed in her face, women like Emily didn’t deserve the love or attention they received.

‘I just hope his four nannies that actually raise him coped alright during that time.’ That was it, the final straw. She raised her hand but you never cowered, she went to slap you but al she could do is try. You got there first taking the board from Bishop’s hands and slapping her in the stomach, so it’s not as obvious as a face injury, you didn’t fancy having the cartel on your ass.

She doubled over in pain and screamed, clutching her ribs. You didn’t hear a crack but you knew it mustn’t of ickled.

‘Ez take the whore back to her car, tell the driver the pain is due to her period that’s just started, and it’s nothing to worry about.’

Ez nodded and quickly moved Emily from the scene, not daring to speak a word incase he got the same treatment.

You spun around and thanked heavens that Gilly had taken Rio inside, although you knew the Mayan would be pissed that he missed the altercation.

‘Damn Mamas you got some claws!’ Taza was the first to break the silence, beaming at you and your display of violence. You pulled into his embrace and chuckled.

‘Yeah it was kinda hot seeing you all angry’

Of course Coco was the one to turn it into a dirty joke. All the guys gathered round you and starting joking about you joining UFC.

But one man was quiet, too quiet. Bishop was yet to move a muscle let alone say anything, you worried it was too much and that your outburst made him change his mind.

The guys followed your eyes to the president behind them.

‘Let’s go inside and check on Rio, yeah guys?’

Riz encouraged the guys to move, catching on that you needed a moment alone with their president.

‘Bishop I’m so sorry about that, I just freaked when I saw Rio on the floor, I know this probably fucks things up with Galindo. And I get it if you take back what you said inside, it’s just I—‘ you were stopped short by a pair of lips on yours, you took a few seconds or realise they were Bishop’s, you moved your lips in sync with his and after what felt like a lifetime you pulled away for air.

‘I guess I gotta make you mine to watch over you now. Can’t have to terrorising the streets with the this can I?’ He joked whilst holding up Rio’s now fully snapped board

‘You still wanna be with me after that?’

‘Yeah I do because I’m in love with you.’

You melted right there on the spot, you laughed a little at your previous panic.

He leant in close to whisper in your ear

‘Plus Coco was right, it was fucking hot.’

You groaned and palmed his chest playfully. You finally had it, a perfect little family, it was about time. You went back to kissing Bishop and at this moment nothing could go wrong.

‘Hey, my board! What the hell Mom!’

Taglist: @mayans-sauce @one-shot-plus-size

[solitaria-fantasma]

Um for the Super Ghost AU I am just imagining that The Question managed to figure out basically everything about Gawain and the Mystery Skulls, but instead of it being his paranoia getting to him it's because he accidentally learned Gawain was a ghost, wanted to learn why he's a ghost and then he was going down the rabbit hole and by the time he climbed out of it he's just wondering what is Gawain's life, unlife, whatever and the life of his brother. Just, this came to me and refused to leave.

((*cracks knuckles*))

Question hadn't seen sunlight for nearly six days, and it had finally paid off.

He leaned over his hands on the edge of the desk, staring at the pin board before him. It was crisscrossed with color coded strands of yarn, and little push pins that held up photographs, newspaper and magazine clippings, and printed Internet screenshots. It wasn't the most complicated web he'd ever built, but it tied up neatly, and that was enough. Not every mystery had a a million twists to unwind.

The trail started in London, England, and stretched all the way across the Atlantic to a tiny town in Texas, USA, barely large enough to be a speck on a map. He had birth records, school enrollment records, science fair awards, promotions, Visa applications, mortgages, home appliance purchases, swing dance trophies, company picnic photos, a missing person's report, and an obituary, all leading to a giant question mark scribbled over a photo of a young blond man, with the word 'whereabouts?' written beneath it.

This photo connected to the next item in the chain with a quick arrow of blue, and another long, arching arrow connected a birth record from earlier in this leg to the same thing - a newspaper article from that small Texas town, talking about the mysterious case of a young boy with amnesia being found on the steps of a local restaurant. There was an article about the boy's adoption just a few months later, and then another article congratulating three local kids and their dog for solving a small time mystery.

The chain ran through several articles like this one, and the kids grew older as their mysteries evolved from misplaced mail and lost pets to package theft, poltergeist activity, and cryptid sightings. More and more, the articles talked about ghosts, creatures of urban legend, and even sightings of demons and occult activity. Around 2008, the newspaper articles became printed blog posts, and seemed to be written by the kids themselves.

Question laughed quietly to himself. Kids after his own paranoid heart, all three.

The articles came to an abrupt halt in 2014, with a missing persons report for the amnesiac boy (now an adult), and a series of articles about a groundbreaking prosthetic limb, developed by a genius young man who tested his prototype on himself after tragically loosing his own arm. There were a few more articles about the prosthetic, and a few photos to go along with them that showed the blond man from previous articles, and then there were a few clippings of local tabloids from a truck driver who swore he'd been carjacked by 'a flaming skeleton with great fashion sense'.

There was silence for a month or two, and then concurrent newspaper articles and blog posts about the miraculous return of one Lewis Pepper, thought to be dead from the same tragic caving accident that cost his best friend his arm. The blog posts about the supernatural returned, and the prosthesis research seemed to slow down. Coincidentally, a young man named 'Merlin Knight' with an eerily familiar face was hired at the local auto shop.

Question wondered if the entire town was playing dumb, or just stupid. The only real change was the clothing, and that long blond hair being braided.

This employment record connected all the way back to the obituary from the first leg of the chain, and proceeded on to connect with screenshots from a social media account of a robotic body, and the building of what would be, within a few month's time, the town's own local hero.

Question breathed out through his nose. A local hero who would go on to help save the world, and found the Justice League itself. Had that been part of the plan?

The web wrapped itself up quickly from there. Supernatural skills and abilities not possible by modern science, knowledge of other realms and creatures only known to mythology, and the tiny little clues he'd been hoarding and observing for a full year all pointed to the same conclusion. It wasn't as fantastical as it sounded, in all honesty, though Green Arrow had looked at him stranger than usual when he'd first said his conclusion out loud.

There were legitimate aliens, sorcerers, and demons in this reality - why not ghosts, too?

There was one final piece missing from the web, however, and he was out of clues to tie in. There was a near twenty year gap between the last known sighting of Gawain Kingsmen, and the appearance of 'Merlin Knight'. What had the man been doing for all that time? There had been no sightings of anyone even remotely matching the appearance of Gawain or 'Merlin' anywhere in that time, and without even the slightest whisper of a rumor on an Internet forum or library archive, there wasn't much more he could do to find out.

Question straightened up from the desk, and rolled his shoulders to try and stretch them out. There was no way around it.

He was going to have to get more...direct from here on out.

.......

"What does a dead man do for twenty years?" Gawain froze with a potato wedge half-raised to his shoulder at the question, and Bran - unwilling to wait for her snack - leaned her head down to snatch it up anyway. Gawain turned his yellow LED eyes over to Question, who had planted himself in the chair across the table without so much of a 'hello', and tilted his head.

"...I'm sorry," He apologized. "But I'm not sure I know what you mean."

"I know you do." Question leaned one elbow on the table. Bran nudged Gawain's still-raised hand, hoping for more potatoes, and the hero absently picked up another wedge to feed to her. "I know most people believe the 'advanced AI' cover story, but I'm not most people. I know you're a ghost possessing an armored suit like that old anime." The potato wedge vanished, and Question wondered if the little ghost was actually eating it, or just storing it for later.

That was a mystery for another time, regardless.

Gawain had turned to face him fully, now, and his two other ghostly companions were now peeking out of hiding from behind his shoulders. They weren't hostile, but their stares were, nonetheless, intense, and Question smiled behind his mask. He knew he had their full attention, now.

"How did you find out?" Gawain asked, keeping his voice low.

"I saw you from the ground in that fight with Mr. Sorcerer Superior, Magnus Creed." Question replied. "You ran into that warding slip like a bird into a clean window. A robot wouldn't have been stopped by mere paper and superstition." Gawain tilted his head slightly to one side.

"Some superstitions hurt." He argued, just the slightest bit defensive. "...what was your question, again?"

"What does a dead man do for twenty years?" Question asked. "There's a two decade gap between your presumed death and your reappearance. You could stand to work on that secret identity, by the way." He advised. "Someone's going to notice your resemblance to a dead guy from twenty years ago, if you ever let down your hair." Gawain's LED eyes narrowed, and one of the spirits - Chopper, the one with the upright spines - hissed in response.

Vixen walked by with John Stewart at her side, and both Chopper and Gawain made a visible effort to drop any outward signs of irritation. Question remained where he was. People were used to seeing him tense and suspicious, by now. It wouldn't raise a single eyebrow.

"...I was lost." Gawain spoke up quietly once Vixen and John had passed out of earshot. "I woke up in the middle of an unfamiliar forest, and I just couldn't get out. Not for a while."

"You were lost in a forest for twenty years?" Even Question sounded skeptical. "I've seen what you're capable of. You should have been able to handle a little thing like being lost."

"It was ten years," Gawain retorted sharply. Bran raided his plate for the remaining potato wedges. "And I wasn't just...born being able to do that stuff. I had to grow into it. I had to learn." A strange gust of air blew past the table, scattering someone's forgotten paper plate and napkin to the floor, before Gawain unclenched his fists, and visibly calmed down. Question still didn't move.

"Death...does things to you." Gawain lowered his voice again. "To your mind. You can't think straight for...a long time - and that's if you're lucky." He lowered his hands to the table, and Bran automatically wound herself around one arm with a pleased sound. "I found my way out of the forest after ten yes, and then I went...home. To Tempo."

"Your parents had moved away by then." Question knew. He knew how the story of the living family had played out, from there. "Your brother was living with your uncle, and your friends were off at college." Gawain's shoulders drooped, and the third spirit - Griflet, if he remembered right - patted at the side of his helmet sympathetically. Chopper was still glaring at him.

"They had." Gawain made no effort to hide the disappointment in his voice. "I guess I couldn't fault them for not wanting to stay in town after all they went through, but back then, I didn't know it had been ten years. It only felt like a few days, to me."

"That must have been difficult." Question said, and he meant it. Sympathy wasn't really his thing, but Gawain was being cooperative, so it was the least he could do. "And the other ten?"

"I was hiding." Gawain laughed humorlessly. "I somehow convinced myself that my family-...that my brother, and my uncle, would be afraid of me, if they saw me like that, and I just...never came forward." He shrugged. "I just sort of watched, and listened, and followed them for another ten years, and I thought that was pretty good, you know?

"I couldn't interact with them, sure, but at least I could still see them. It was...better than nothing." The hero fell silent, for a few moments, and then looked Question in the eye. Or...as close as he could get. The featureless mask tended to throw off people's frame of reference for facial features. "What are you going to do now?"

"Absolutely nothing." Question casually leaned back in his own chair. "I've already put the pieces together. This was just the last piece I needed to finish the story." He stood up, and pushed the chair in under the table. "This time, I just wanted to satisfy my own curiosity." Gawain seemed surprised, and remained sitting as Question walked out of the cafeteria.

He could feel four pairs of eyes burning into his back, but for once, being watched didn't bother him. Curiosity killed the cat, they said, but satisfaction brought it back, and Question was very much satisfied with this answer.

Now, he could focus on more important matters...like the long-ignored connection between Girl Scout cookie sales and the appearance of crop circles in Midwest America.

[fandom-necromancer]

A fresh Start alternative ending

This was prompted by a lovely anon! I hope you enjoy!

Fandom: Detroit become human | Ship: Reed900 [original story]

Nines couldn’t help but stare at the man who had just run from him, his body completely frozen still holding the ripped off part of Gavin’s sleeve. He looked down on the grey fabric and let his analysing program run although it wouldn’t help him at all. What kept him in his frozen state was the memory of Gavin’s heavily scarred arm for everyone to see. What had led to this scarring? Why was he so afraid of someone seeing them? Was he ashamed? Embarrassed? But everything Nines could remember was the panic in his eyes. And that worried him. The man had looked up at him as if he would hit him the next second. That… Nines couldn’t even think of a reason for it. They had never gotten along well, but Nines had never laid hand on Gavin. And he was sure he never would. There was no reason for that reaction and Nines wanted to know the reason now. He had to ask Gavin if he was okay and offer his help. It was the least he could do after causing such unease for him in the middle of the bullpen.

So, he pocketed the piece of fabric and ran after him out of the building and to the parking lot. He managed to set foot on the pavement the very moment Gavin’s motorcycle roared up and sped off the property with squeaking tires. Nines couldn’t help but scream after him, but the man didn’t even turn his head. Nines didn’t think he had heard him at all. But he wasn’t so quick to give up. He calculated his most likely destination and took the bus to get him to Gavin’s home.

When he arrived, the windows were dark, but Nines still rung the doorbell. Maybe Gavin just didn’t want to be disturbed. No one answered, so he rung it a second time. And a third. Then he hammered his fist against the wood. ‘Gavin! I know you don’t want to speak with anyone, but it’s me, Nines! I’m sorry about what happened and I worry. Please, open the door.’ He waited for an answer that didn’t come. ‘Okay, then please at least listen! I am really sorry. And I didn’t want to expose you like that, whatever was the reason for your scarring. I want to apologise and just wanted to make sure you are alright. Can you tell me if you are alright? I… I really don’t want to wait until tomorrow to see for myself.’ But again, when Nines waited for an answer, Gavin stayed silent. The android sighed and went around the house, looking into every window he could reach. Not a single trace of the man. And no hint of his motorcycle either. Maybe he hadn’t driven here after all.

Nines quickly accessed the android network and browsed through Gavin’s scarce social media profiles. He could make out three bars that corresponded with those Tina had spoken of a few times and decided to head there next. The time spent waiting for the bus or driving in it until he was where he wanted to be, was torture to him. What if Gavin wasn’t there either? Or what if Gavin was there? What words could Nines use to make it better? How could he convince the man to share his story with him? They weren’t exactly on personal terms after all.

He got off the bus at his first stop and braced himself before entering the bar. He did a quick scan of the guests but couldn’t find Gavin underneath them. So, he walked up to the bartender and held up his hand to project a picture of Gavin on his palm. ‘Hello. Have you seen this man?’ ‘No, why?’ ‘I’m a friend of him and worried. He hasn’t shown up to our movie night’, Nines lied. ‘If you see him, could you ask him to call Nines? I just want to know he is safe.’ The man in front of him nodded, but Nines wasn’t very convinced he would remember his request for long.

The next bar was similar. Nines scanned the patrons and repeated his plea to the bartender. This time it was a woman and Nines thought the chances might be better this time. He followed through with his strategy the next few bars, but never got any closer to his end goal of finding Gavin.

His next stop was a gym with insufficient protection on its security: It was an easy task for Nines to hack the surveillance cams and look around for Gavin. But once again he was left with no results. By now his only course of action was wandering the streets aimlessly trying to find the man per sheer chance. He regretted never trying more to initiate conversation with Gavin. If he only knew him better, he might know of more places to look for him. He thought hard, but nothing came to his mind.

So, he grasped the last straw and decided to go to Tina’s house. The woman was friends with Gavin and Nines knew her quite well, too. She was his last chance at conveying a message to the man. So, he boarded the next bus and walked up to her small home about twenty minutes later. He rang the bell and the door opened to a surprised Tina. ‘Nines? Err… Hello. What can I do for you?’ ‘I- Tina, I am so sorry. For disturbing you this late and… and for what happened today at the DPD. You are Gavin’s friend too, right? If you see him again, could you give him this message from me? I-‘ ‘Hey, Nines? I think you should come in first.’ The android nodded and let himself be guided towards a suite. He sat down on one of the sofas and Tina followed, positioning her opposite of him. ‘Okay. What do you want to tell Gavin?’

Nines sighed. ‘I want to tell him that I’m sorry I upset him. I should have thought about the impact of my report on his career and talked to him upfront about it. I shouldn’t have talked behind his back to Fowler. All that lead to the scene in the bullpen in the first place. I also want to tell him I’m concerned about him. I didn’t mean to expose him like that and whatever led to these scars and him wanting to keep it a secret shouldn’t have been something I unveiled to the public. I worry about how he’s doing now, he looked panicked. And I don’t know enough about him to judge that reaction correctly. I would like to, but we aren’t exactly on good terms. I guess that’s partially my fault, I never showed any interest in him outside of work. I would like to know he is safe, and I want to apologise to him. For… everything I guess. I hope he can forgive me.’

He let silence conquer the room after his monologue and only after a few moments looked up to Tina pleadingly. But she just looked back at him, her face neutral. ‘I forgive you’, a familiar male voice answered then and Gavin’s face emerged from behind the sofa and looked down on him, tired and likely drunk. ‘But I’m still pissed at you.’ ‘I understand’, Nines nodded humbly. ‘I just wanted to make sure you are alright. I didn’t know you… had history.’ ‘Didn’t give you any reason to think that’, Gavin shrugged. ‘Not like I ever really talked to you.’ He went around the couch and Tina scooted to the side to make way for him.

‘But I think it is time we had a talk.’

[verycoolveryunique]

Youtube, seriously? - A Bucky/female reader fic

Youtube, Seriously PART 2

Type: Reader- Insert

Relationship/pairing: Bucky / Female Reader

Plot: Reader is the Social Media and Community Relations Manager for The Avengers and after seeing how the population is easily swung on opinions of the Avengers, Y/N comes up with an idea to help put more personality and authenticity into the public perception of who the Avengers are with a little help from the Avengers themselves.

Word count: 1633

Warnings: none

A/N: let's go bb (also expect sporadic updates, I'm struggling at work lol)

If you wish to be tagged, shoot me an ask or reply to this post.

Hope you enjoy :)

PART 1  -    PART 3 - COMING SOON

It took some time for Y/N to convince the Social Media team on her idea, but after a few pitch meetings with the help of Tony and a video that Shuri filmed in Wakanda, she had them all on her side and excited for this new way to engage the community.

But now it was time to get the actual team on board. During one of the many pitch meetings with the Social Media team, everyone brought up how the team would react to the new social media process and it was a genuine worry. They weren’t exactly the most accommodating group of people out there. So, grabbing her laptop which was loaded with her presentation and the few reports and statistics Y/N initially showed Tony, she made her way to the team quarters for the monthly social media update and planning session.

30 minutes into your presentation, Y/N was met with utter silence.

“Thoughts?” Y/N said as she plays with the stack of reports in front of her. The silence continues to fill every inch of the room; each member of the team has a look of either scepticism or just plain doubt across their face. “Look, I was hired to shake up the social media and I can’t do that if you don’t trust me.”

“Why should we trust you, what proof do you have that this isn’t just some stupid way to embarrass us?” Sam said as he gave Y/N a sceptical look.

A few members of the team start voicing their opinions all at once as chaos erupts in the room/ So much for silence. As Y/N tries to steer the conversation back on track, the team starts to talk louder and louder.

Steve, Wanda and Nat are talking over Tony as he tries to help change people’s viewpoints and Sam is trying to get a response from Bucky, but he just sits there silently watching everyone’s reaction. He almost speaks up in defence of Y/N when someone beats him to it.

“Sam’s right, what makes you think this will do anything other than humiliate us” Clint replies, shooting an elastic band right in Nat’s face as she grabs her water bottle to throw it across the table.

“I’m glad you said that. On the table are a stack of reports on the top 20 social media influencers and their engagement statistics. On page 3, we have charts on how many views they are getting per upload on YouTube and Instagram, how many people are commenting or clicking links to find out more information. Page 17 shows our engagement statistics.”

Y/N watches as the team reads through her reports and sees the numbers. She also sees the realisation hit a few team members as their eyes widen and their jaws drop.

 “In the past 6 months, some of the most famous YouTubers in the world have been uploading Minecraft videos. Do you want to know how many views these videos are getting per post? “

Silence fills the room at Y/N’s question.

“10 – 30 Million per video. Now if we turn to page 13, you will see how many views some of them got per month.”

Tony shoots Y/N a smirk as the two watch the rest of the team look over the numbers and their reactions to the bolded 200 – 500 million views per month heading. As the team lower the reports back to the table, Tony stands and moves to support Y/N.

“Y/N has been hard at work with the Social Media team and already has some videos filmed.” Tony replies as Shuri’s video is projected in front of the team to watch.

“This video was made about a week ago and has been up for a few hours. It’s also currently trending on YouTube and Twitter and currently has 4 million views.” Y/N replies as she presses play.

As the video finishes, Y/N looks back to the team. “Thoughts?”

Everyone looks at each other as Bucky speaks up for the first time during the session.

“What do we need to do.”

Y/N smiles “It’s time to get Camera ready, we start filming content tomorrow.”

 Bright and early the next morning, Y/N is setting up some equipment in the back garden of the Avengers compound. A lot of thought went into what the first video filmed with the team would be. A new twitter account had been made for Fan interactions and the number of replies and tweets the account is getting is more than Y/N has ever seen since she started working for the Company. She has been making posts on all their platforms to announce the new addition to the official channels and so far the feedback has been good. Shuri’s video has helped gained thousands of new followers across the many different platforms and has also helped hype up more personal videos from the team with fans excited to actually be able to humanise their saviours.

As Y/N sets up, she gets a shock as she turns around and see’s Bucky standing there, hands in his pockets as he looks around. “Sorry, I scared you.  I’m early.”

“Sergeant Barnes, I’m happy you are here-“

“Bucky.”

“I’m sorry?” Y/n says, slightly breathless after her little scare.

“Call me Bucky.”

“Bucky…” Y/N replies, a smile crossing her face as a soft blush crosses Bucky’s face. “Thank you for coming, I know no one really wants to be here and do this but it's going to be great!”

“They’ll get over it.”  Bucky says, chuckling as a few other team members start to arrive.

The team starts to cluster around Y/N, a few showing signs of nervousness on not knowing what to expect around the day while Tony and shockingly Sam of all people look excited for their close-up.

“I want to thank everyone for coming. Over the next few days, you will all be invited up to the new digital production team office and you will all collect a camera that you will be using to film content.” A few faces drop as they realise they actually have to contribute to the content themselves and not just turn up to film a pre-determined idea. “You will all receive packs on ideas but don’t feel too stressed bout it. Film whatever you like. I’ll make it look good; I promise”

As Tony opens his mouth to most likely say something inappropriate, Y/N silences him with her hand” Nothing inappropriate or damaging to the organisation of course. And nothing that shows off locations of your homes or missions you may be on. We are opening up the organisation but we are also controlling how much people need to know. ”

Nat chuckles as she watched Tony scowl at Y/N, his plan obviously busted. “So, what’s today about then?” she says, running a hand through her straight red hair.

“An introduction to who you all are.” Y/N glances at Bucky as he watches on curious. “Over the years there have been misrepresentations of who you are as people and we are going to fix that.

Tony makes his way over to Y/N and put his arm around her shoulders as she grabs one of the many cameras set up on front of her.

“You’re doing a great job kid.”

Y/N smiles as she hits record and starts filming the team. At first, they are all just awkwardly standing, but as time goes on (with the help of a few funny comments from Tony and Sam), everyone is calm and just having a conversation. After filming for most of the morning, Y/N realises that a) the camera loves Nat and she is going to be a fan favourite but also the way Sam and Bucky bicker with Steve is going to be a very popular segment to capture in the videos moving forward.

Everyone but one person has done their introduction. Bucky stands next to Steve, arms crossed as he argues with Sam about something stupid. Moving through the team, Y/N stands in front of Bucky who freezes in his spot.

“So Sergeant Barnes, tell us a little about yourself.” Bucky shoots you a look at once again being called his old name but clears his throat.

“Uh, I’m Bucky…I use a ..gun…. (silence follows as a few team members snicker in the background causing Bucky to laugh and hide his face away from the camera, a huge smile across his face as Sam steps in front of him making a joke about how he’s the superstar of the group and yes, he is single and ready to mingle and to follow him on his new twitter account @Samwilson.

After the long day of filming, the footage is sent off to the editing department over the watchful eyes of Y/N and a few days later the video is finally ready to be viewed by the team before being posted.

One place Y/N never expected to be walking into was the teams Common Room. Only a few officers had clearance for this part of the compound and Y/N wasn’t one of them. Well, she wasn’t before. After some sweet talking by Clint and Wanda, Y/N had applied for clearance from the higher-ups and now had cleared access to the Teams quarters.

Everyone was sitting around on the lavish sofa in the centre of the room, it was the first official viewing party of the team introduction video. Y/N made her way to the sofa as the team looks at the screen nervously.

Y/N clears her throat as she looks at everyone. “Uh, I hope you guys like it. If you want anything changed, too late cause it's posting in like 10 seconds.”

Wanda shoots Y/N a smile as the new video on the Official Avengers Youtube channel premieres.

  Tagging list

@clearlysaltybeard @cryingismyhobbie @usernamesarebitches @just-kaylaa @gabbie-is-sad @loki-ang-batang-heneral @abswritesfandoms @elew223 @bl4ckglitt3r @wholocked397 @purplekitten30 @illaskfornothingmore @myjokesarecriesforhelp @f-flourishing @anasteas @stan-by-me @geeksareunique @lumar014 @bloodyvalentine93  @chubby-dumplin  @overlordintraining @invisibledangerlegs @clarkesardothien @psychemou  @ivvitm1109​ @givemetundies​

[hellzyeahwebwielingessays]

The Not-So-Amazing Mary Jane Part 28: AMJ #3.2

Previous Part

Next Part

Master Post

As with issue #2 (and all future posts) I advise you to read the prior instalment as I’m not going to recap the first half of the issue again here.

Moving on, we finally get to meet these new crewmembers. They consist of:

H.E.R.B.I.E. 1.05, a version of the F4’s robot buddy

Screwball, a “… self-styled as a performance artist and the world's first live-blogging super-villain. She was an Internet personality and social-media attention monger to such an extent that she committed crimes on camera.”

And Master Matrix. He's a whole mess. Basically he is the world’s most powerful LMD, and a highly dangerous weapon. He views Spider-Man and Deadpool as his ‘fathers’ in a weird way.

Beck starts to justify the hires, but MJ says that if they believe in the project as she does and have earnest intentions then she’ll reserve judgement.

Screwball tells McKnight that she’s leaked some fake photos to mislead the Savage Six and buy them some time. With that McKnight is eager to get to work.

Let me be upfront about this, I know little about HERBIE or Master Matrix. I’m not an F4 expert and I never bothered with the Spidey/Deadpool ongoing. So I will admit that maybe I’m missing some important context here. My research on the Marvel.wiki didn’t yield any results on who HERBIE 1.05 is beyond him maybe being the regular version of HERBIE. And last I checked the regular HERBIE wasn’t a bad guy. Master Matrix in contrast seems to have been a morally ambiguous character initially but grew to be a good guy. He has a kill switch he willingly handed over to SHIELD just in case he ever went rogue.

So 2/3 of them are perfectly fine. I don’t even know how much MJ would know about HERBIE or Master Matrix. However, Screwball?

Screwball is a straight up criminal. Not an especially dangerous one granted, perhaps not even a D-lister. But a criminal nonetheless. MJ has seen her before, as she witnessed Superior Spider-Man assaulting her on TV in Superior Spider-Man v1 #6.

Realistically, given how horrified MJ was by the incident you’d imagine it’d stick in her mind. Additionally, given how Screwball is an attention monger and very into social media I’d imagine MJ would have some awareness of who she is. MJ herself is very up-to-date with the latest trends and would be plugged into modern pop culture and social media.

However, for the sake of argument let’s say MJ doesn’t remember Screwball at all. Let’s say she’s never heard of HERBIE or Master Matrix. Given how in the first issue she was taking note of the criminal and super powered crewmembers, wouldn’t she at least suspect these people might be shady? Wouldn’t she double-check somehow that they are legit? It all leads back to the same complaints I made between my coverage of issues #1-2. She’s not even checked that Beck is out and about legally for God’s sake!

What’s so much worse is that the story acknowledges  that these hires might be shady. Beck is concerned MJ will have reservations. MJ decides to reserve judgement.

This means she doesn’t fully trust them, that she acknowledges they might  be sketchy.

And her conditions for reserving judgment depend upon even shakier criteria.

How the Hell can she tell in this singular moment, when she’s barely spoken to any of them, that any of these people:

a)     ‘Believe’ in the movie like she does?

Or

b)     Have earnest intentions?

She’s not verified any of them are reformed or on probation. She’s got no idea what they are fully capable of or if they are on the run.

Once more she is engaging in blind faith. She is trusting the word of a super villain who’s entire skillset revolves around lying.

The final thing to take note of is the fact that the crew are actively avoiding the Savage Six; hence the new shithole location.

Um…why aren’t they just contacting the authorities or organizing protection for themselves?

SIX super villains just attacked them and want to do so again. That’s surely grounds to bring in the police or the West Coast Avengers or somebody.

Surely, MJ herself could arrange that.

Alright, maybe you could argue they want to avoid arousing suspicion because of their criminal crewmembers. But this leads back to the fact that MJ wouldn’t stand for criminals working on the movie and Beck wanted press attention for the movie anyway. In fact if a civilian like Diperna knows about the movie how do the press not? How could no one have noticed that there are super powered people and criminals working on the set?

Everyone should know that about the movie anyway, so why not bring in help from superheroes or the authorities for protection?

The answer lies in the fact that this story is incredibly half-baked and inconsistent.

I will also add that on a purely personal note I dislike 616 Screwball so just seeing her annoys me.

The next day filming has been delayed again because of bad weather. Mysterio decides they should shoot in the caves.

Filming inside some caves nearby an abandoned zoo whilst it’s raining. Seems like a health and safety nightmare doesn’t it?

If so then it’s yet more evidence of how vain and selfish Mysterio is.

Days later, we see some crewmembers intimidated by Screwball. Their conversation with her reveals she hacked someone’s private information and threatened them to deliver food to them.

MJ overhears this conversation and learns that, in order to evade the Savage Six, Screwball arranged an unmarked truck. MJ decides to solve the problem by contacting Peter and asking if he knows any teleporters in L.A.

Later, Cloak and Dagger show up and deliver food to the cast and crew.

*pinches bridge of nose again*

God, where to start with this?

So, Screwball has definitely committed a crime in the course of her role as production manager. Hacking someone’s cloud server is very much illegal and an invasion of their privacy.* Depending upon whether you believe her or the truck driver she might also have threatened the driver’s life.

Screwball admits to having done this and MJ over hears it. And yet MJ is still ‘reserving her judgment’? 

I guess earnest intentions+believing in a movie>>>>>>>>>>>harming people in Mj’s book right?...

...what the fuck Williams seriously…

But the stupidity goes another level when MJ contacts Peter so she can get super powered assistance.

Let me get this straight, MJ and Beck are on board with using superheroes to deliver food to them, but not as protection for actual super villains who want to hurt them?

And MJ in particular doesn’t feel she should let Peter or other heroes know about Mysterio or his criminal crewmembers. BUT she will still contact them for a far less serious reason?

Anyone still arguing that for MJ to ask for help would be reductive to her/female characters no longer has a leg to stand on. MJ just used super heroes to solve a problem for herself. Scratch that, she asked her super hero boyfriend to solve a problem for her. And by bringing in characters like Cloak, Dagger, HERBIE and Master Matrix AMJ has arguably invited the wider Marvel universe into the story too. At which point MJ has no end of options available to her to ensure Mysterio isn’t a danger. She just isn’t using them because Leah Williams Mary Jane is not the Mary Jane we’ve known and loved. She’s this weird facsimile with all her social skills and charm but none of her deeper moral convictions.

Finally, if Beck and MJ (hypothetically) aren’t getting protection because they have crooks on staff then why bring in super heroes at all? I admit we never see what crewmembers are in Cloak and Dagger’s line of sight, so arguably MJ asked the criminal crewmembers to scram. But a hint of that would’ve been nice.

As filming inside the cave proceeds we see the Spidey actor struggling with his lines. The scene depicts ‘Spidey’ saying ‘You’ve gone too far this time, Mysterio. Now it’s personal.’ Amidst a street full of injured/dead people.

Mallorie is playing one of the injured people.

First of all, Mallorie wasn’t an actor or extra earlier in the story. But I suppose it’s not uncommon for crewmembers to have small roles in movies and with a reduced cast it’s likely she was just filling in.

More problematically, the scene is clearly depicting the fact that Mysterio has hurt (even murdered) people in his past. He’s done stuff so bad that Spider-Man, a hero, has been personally enraged by his evil acts.

This is in the movie. It’s in the script. MJ read this. MJ is seeing this recreated.

This eviscerates  even the slightest remnant of deniability on MJ’s part. As I’ve argued in prior instalments, MJ SHOULD know Beck is a killer and a violent person. There was no denying that. But even if you were being wilfully ignorant or belligerently insisting only the events of this mini-series ‘counted’, the mini-series just spelled out for you that beck has seriously hurt people and that MJ knows  that.

But she is still allowing him to make his vanity project. She’s still letting him walk free. She’s still chummy with him. She’s still showing no sign at all that she’s going to make Beck face justice.

On the last pages the actor playing Spider-Man quits after a light falls nearby. This leaves Beck and MJ sad, wondering how they can finish the film without Spider-Man.

I have nothing to say about this beyond a heavy light falling inside a wet cave should’ve been an obvious health and safety concern.

So, that was Amazing Mary Jane #3, quite possibly the single worst issue of the entire series thus far.

Honestly, I’m going to soldier on through this series, but I’ve made my points.

There is no hope of fixing this series now.

Not because there couldn’t be a justifiable explanation (or several) that could address all the problems. But because it’s become plain to me that Williams will not provide them to us.

Williams frankly seems like someone who understands aspects of MJ as a character. She knows how to make those aspects shine.

But there are other aspects she so fundamentally doesn’t get that it debilitates any good she might’ve done.

And more poignantly, even within the context of the story she is telling she has been incredibly inconsistent and at times downright baffling.

She either needs a better editor or she might be someone who ultimately wasn’t a good fit for this character/story.

*It’s extra bad considering several years ago in real life there was a major news story about the private photos of celebrities being hacked, perhaps the most notorious example being Jennifer Lawrence. I’m like 99% sure Leah Williams heard about that because I  heard about that just from tumblr and I’m not someone who used to work in Hollywood nor do I work in the entertainment industry in any capacity.

P.S. How does Peter not know about the Savage Six?

Super villain attacks aren’t that common outside of New York city and the villains in question are predominantly associated with operating in NYC.

Three of them are very recurring enemies of his, one of which committed some very violent crimes during a traumatic recent event; the ‘Hunted’ storyline.

They attacked the set of another of his very recurrent enemies that his lover is working on.

None of this happened in a secluded location, it was all perfectly public.

So how on Earth does he not know about this? Why hasn’t he contacted MJ to ensure she’s okay? Why isn’t he riding down there to see if he can help her or trying to arrange his Avengers buddies to provide some protection?

The only answers are that MJ has lied about that again, Williams is mischaracterizing Peter indirectly or this story is badly written.

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[fandomluver-101]

Sweet Elite Chapter 8

So I have finally finished playing the last chapter! You would think I’d hate playing a game where I’m in school when IRL college is kicking my ass, but to each their own, LOL.

Anyways, I finished playing it and though I found it enjoyable, I’m not all that sure I truly enjoyed it. I normally don’t make my own reviews of the game and just leave comments on ones posted by others, but I decided to post it because why not! 

If you’re interested in a spoiler filled review, just click that “keep reading” below  ↓ ↓ ↓ ↓ ↓ ↓ ↓

First off, I like to write my little fanfics for my enjoyment (I’ve never posted any of them, but I have them in existence via USB lol). I’m probably gonna reference what I’ve written for Tadashi’s arc for comparison, so don’t try looking for them!

When I play Sweet Elite, I also like to record my screen so I can keep track of my choices (and compare what happens to what I wrote). A single playthrough for the first time and this is the longest I’ve spent on a chapter, a whole 2 hours and a half! Not a bad thing of course considering it was a major arc and expected to be on the longer side. But I feel like for the length, I didn’t get much Love Interest interactions because you’re forced to spend fairly equal amount of time with everyone (I played on my Tadashi account first since I had the most AP on that one).

I shall start with things I liked about the chapter, which wasn’t much to be honest?

1 - Tadashi not knowing what the Grammy’s was is hilarious to me (and also kinda sad because that kinda shows how much of a childhood he lacked since the average person would at least know the name!). That whole interaction was nice to see since it showed TadAxel having a non-arguing conversation, but the “Granny’s” was a major highlight.

2 - Neha hinting once again that she might be a scholarship student (because mentioning that scholarship students don’t have to advertise that they’re one is a major thing to introduce and not expect me to run with). And I interpreted how she responded to Karolina supporting Tadashi despite the scandal more of her being a bit jealous because I can only imagine how she’d react if Neha actually is a scholarship student (though Tadashi becoming one himself might soften Karolina up into accepting that your parents’ money doesn’t make you almighty).

3 - Ellie just being Ellie. Lordy she’s adorably terrifying and those are the best short friends to have because they keep you on your toes (and are totally down to hunting for the obscure or raiding Area 451).

4 - Tyler basically being how I felt playing as Scholar because the whole “I’m not doing shit while everyone else is offering something major in their super-awesome ways” was easy to recognize with.

So my first complaint is the convoluted plan to get Tadashi proven innocent/uninvolved in Hiroshi’s yakuza crap. I get the whole lie to the dad to make him think he’s on his side thing since it would get him half of his money back. But what I envisioned in my head and wrote down centered around my Scholar recording the conversation between Tadashi and his dad (which Tadashi did himself, which still makes it a viable plot-point) and them using the script/email from the lawyer and the bank statements of his dad taking all of his money to show him as a victim?

The video idea wasn’t bad and was also something I wrote for my BCP Scholar fanfiction (she’s marketing and PR with her own little company managing social media accounts, so the idea and image control was her main addition to help out). So I don’t know if I’m just being my biased ass self and preferring my solution (release the proof of blackmail, show Tadashi is a victim, have Tegan hack Nakano Corp.’s CCTV/security footage to get timestamps of Tadashi not being present for mafia meetings, have him testify against his father).

None of what was shown in the video could have really proven any sort of innocence to be honest. Tadashi could’ve easily pulled whatever texts and emails he wanted, so unless he showed the one from the lawyer essentially extorting him to testify in his father’s favor, I don’t see how that on its own would have helped with anything. 

Adding the recording to the beginning of the video during editing would have been something to warrant all the positive response to the video. I know the recording is used to try and force Nakahoe Senior into giving Tadashi the rest of his money, but it was also the only logical way to prove Tadashi was without a doubt a victim too (and Tegan could easily get the money back himself or there could have been something about the mom, which I’m gonna talk about later in this post).

IRL, people would point out that Tadashi could easily be lying through his teeth about not being involved. So that’s kind of a plot-hole since getting the public to see Tadashi in a positive light is important to getting the school board to let him stay (which was incredibly dumb to me because are you really gonna tell me there aren’t students at the school with openly corrupt/mafia/mob/gangster parents using dirty money to keep their children in attendance???) (yes, Jack, I’m talking about your ass).

I could understand forcing him to step down as student body president since Arlington has the position kinda Anime styled where the president is the face of the school and has an absurd amount of responsibility and power (as proven by Ellie’s story of the previous president and the fact that Tadashi can veto someone getting academic amnesty). Them removing him from office was something I expected (though my fanfic had him helping pick a replacement for the rest of the year since that’s how it was done at my old private school). But not wanting him to attend school even though his family could easily pay for his tuition was very out there to me. I suppose having someone with a negative reputation could reflect badly on a top school, but I’m pretty sure private schools need justifications to expel someone and expelling them based on their parents actions seems very illegal to me.

But anyways, the super computer plot to hack Nakahoe Senior’s information was also very weird to me. I justified it by telling myself Scholar is in a school of super rich, super intelligent teenagers, so maybe the most simple approach doesn’t come to mind (I know first hand that smart people have a tendency to overlook the simple solutions without meaning to). It makes sense to make their own computer to not be traced overall, but the purpose it was needed for didn’t make much sense in the grand scheme of things (because they didn’t really use the information they found, so what was the point of finding it other than being a hundred percent sure on Hiroshi being corrupt?).

And then while I was playing and listening to my commentary, I again was reminded about how confused I was that calling Hiroshi in jail and keeping him on the line long enough to trace the transaction was necessary? Because I don’t think that’s how that works? If it was to track his location, then maybe, but I don’t think Tegan would need Tadashi to keep Hiroshi on the line to trace a bank transaction or get into Hiroshi’s accounts (but that’s me being nitpicky I think).

Then what they found, IE the gibberish in the calendar descrambling to “Yakuza” was a major asspull while I was playing. I wondered why Nakahoe Senior, AKA the Inglorious Bastard and Chessmaster of the arc, would make it so obvious? Let alone actually put that in his planer... If there was a meeting every Friday evening, I figured introducing this would at least lead to something where Tegan finds a way to prove Tadashi wasn’t present or active even phone call wise because he could get the call logs too. Yeah, the emails are important, but wouldn’t footage or flights be better at proving he wasn’t there?

Then Tadashi’s mother, who was never truly introduced, but teased really. It was set up in a way that my fanfic had Nakahoe Senior threatening to setup Tadashi for the fall if she didn’t convince him to testify in Hiroshi’s favor because Alistair mentions how protective she normally is of Tadashi and even Tadashi says that his mom was frantic over the phone. So I don’t know, I was hoping for something with her since she was brought up.

But my major complaint about the story was that Scholar has little influence on what goes on. At first, I thought there would be options based on your Department and maybe your choices during the Department Competition (you pick your concentration during the presentation). Essentially, I was expecting to be asked to pick a task I would do best in (in this playthrough’s case, I expected to be able to help with PR because for the competition, I picked Sociology which is essential in marketing research).

I also expected something similar for others. Business would get to come up with a marketing and PR scheme, utilizing Axel, Karolina, and Neha. Performing Arts or Fine Arts would get to help edit and fine tune the video or make a smear campagne against Nakahoe Senior with Tyler and Raquel. Pure and Applied would get to code with Tegan or build with Ellie. Health Sciences (or any department because you’re Arlington’s Sweetheart) would get to work with Alistair (who knows Tadashi best) and Claire to make Tadashi’s script and showcase him to the world as a victim (which he really is in this situation).

But that didn’t happen. The only things Scholar really does is buy computer parts and talk to Claire and ask her to help Tadashi (and suggest Tadashi ask Neha for help too). Which was a major asspull because during that section before where the group is talking about who should help him write something from the heart, I was expecting (and super hyped for) Scholar to finally have the chance to be useful. They weren’t, not even for Tadashi’s campaigning since all that they did was talk to a few students (which I know is good for campaigning, but not really helpful in the grand scheme of things) (especially because by default, Scholar isn’t good at these things even if you’re in a department that’s necessary). I got really happy thinking Scholar would do anything that justifies them being involved as “human resources.”

Then being thanked for not really do anything but being the spectator and emotional support friend kinda bothered me. I’m all for that and sometimes you just need that one friend that’s good at being a support unit (AKA the mom). But even though Tadashi says that Scholar was his main inspiration to defy his parents, that’s not really helping him do that? 

How was Scholar instrumental to anything going on? “Waste a couple hours finding pieces for a super computer, something anyone could search for because you can’t code or build things even if you’re in Pure and Applied,” “Go ask Claire to help Tadashi write his speech only for Tadashi to appear and ask her to himself because she would, by default, help anyways and you’re not good at writing a heartfelt speech (which Scholar technically isn’t, but should be if there were more options or at least acknowledged in this situation because why bring up the whole Arlington Sweetheart thing?),” “Get some rest, you deserve it even though you did absolutely nothing beside deliver the computer parts and suggest asking Neha to help.”

To be honest, Scholar may not be as static/pre-determined as most otome games, but Scholar doesn’t have much variety that actually impacts the story. What you’re good and bad at is already determined (like the essay and presentation; you’re automatically not good at it even if you’re Performing Arts or BCP and interested in things that, you know, require being able to give a good presentation).

I would prefer waiting longer to have more meaningful options than getting something quicker and not really being able to do much. Like during the competition where we eavesdrop on people and see the story unfold, that’s what this chapter pretty much was for me.

[singledarkshade]

Valentine's Day Massacre

Summary: It was Valentine’s Day, and his friends had convinced him to make the restaurant an anti-Valentine’s Day haven for the single people like them.

All his friends were idiots.                                 ********************************************* Hanging up his coat and sitting at the desk in his office, John checked that the staff he needed for the night were still able to come in before going onto his social media sites to ensure his theme for the evening was well known.

It was Valentine’s Day, and his friends had convinced him to make the restaurant an anti-Valentine’s Day haven for the single people like them.

All his friends were idiots.

John had made his restaurant unique by never having the same menu, or type of food more than two days in a row. He had a list of amazing chefs he hired for one night only about twice maybe three times a month to run the kitchen with his team.

It had been a gamble, and several people thought he was crazy when he came up with the idea, but John meticulously worked out how to do it and utilised every social media site to advertise.

To begin with he put each day’s guest chef/theme up at least a week in advance but, once he gained a following, he began only doing it on that day. He was running one of the most successful restaurants, occasionally bar or coffee shop and once a month juice bar, in the city.

  For tonight, he’d got the theme out a little earlier since events like this were the only nights’ he took bookings. The main restaurant was full, booked out within a few hours, which surprised him being an anti-Valentine’s Day theme, but people seemed to be on board. He was using the partitioned section at the back for his friends to have a separate party.

After checking with his floor manager that everything was sorted for the main room since he would be running it that night, John headed to check up on his guest chef for the day and the kitchen staff.

Mick Rory made the best flame grilled burgers anywhere, and as they were the least Valentines Day food he could think of, they seemed to be a good food choice. Mick had a reputation for being a bit of a dragon to work for, but he knew the staff now and his people could adapt to whoever they were working with. It’s what made them so valuable and John paid well for that skill.

Once he was sure everything was going fine in the kitchen, John headed to set up the bar and work on that evening’s themed cocktails.

His speciality.

  Opening the restaurant that night, John wasn’t surprised that Gideon was the first of his friends to arrive. She was the most punctual person he had ever met in his life.

“Oh, this is perfect,” she smiled as she looked around at the way the tables were set up so that everyone would be sitting together, “A night with friends, since none of us have the significant other this holiday expects.”

John chuckled softly before asking, “Speaking of…”

“Ray is picking up Nora because her car isn’t working just now,” Gideon said, she was the member of the group who knew everything, she was the information hub they all went through and she had an amazing memory for details big or small, “Oliver and Felicity will be coming from work. Laurel,” she continued thoughtfully, “Will be coming with Sara and Iris.”

“What about the others?”

“Tommy and Ronnie are coming from the gym,” she chuckled, “Tommy is determined to win his bet with Laurel for the sports day at the Queen Consolidated picnic. Ronnie is helping him train.”

“Looking forward to seeing him pull that off,” John laughed.

“Barry and Cisco are picking up Caitlin,” Gideon continued, “And Leonard is picking up Lisa after her class.”

John quickly went through the list before asking, “What about Rip? I thought he was coming tonight. This was partly his idea.”

“His babysitter cancelled,” Gideon shrugged sadly, “He is hoping his mother will be able to take Jonas for a few hours so he can join us tonight, but she was at her yoga class when we spoke.”

“That’s a pity,” John said, keeping a completely straight face.

Gideon nodded, “It is but Jonas has to come first,” affection filled her voice, “It’s what good parents do.”

John smothered the urge to roll his eyes before saying, “Well, grab a seat and I’ll get you a drink. The others should be here soon.”

  Within the next half hour everyone except Rip had arrived. John served drinks while the group all perused the menu. It amused him that every time they got together the same seating arrangement happened automatically.

Ray sat with Nora because they usually arrived together and were in the middle of a conversation, Ronnie would instantly find Caitlin and ask her about something ‘he’d thought of’ since they’d last talked. Sara and Laurel would sit with Tommy as they were childhood friends. Laurel and Tommy inevitably would decide to meet for lunch at a restaurant that they both wanted to try. By this time Leonard would have taken the seat beside Sara, and they would start discussing their bikes.

Lisa and Cisco would instantly start bickering about a show they were both watching, agreeing to meet up to watch the next episode. Barry and Iris, the childhood best friends, would sit rolling their eyes at how oblivious Cisco and Lisa were. Not realising that the other two were thinking the same about them.

Then, slightly later than everyone as always, Oliver and Felicity would arrive still discussing a ‘work thing’ which would then segue way into another conversation and they would spend most of the night together.

Finally, there was Rip who due to his status as a single parent was almost always running late. When he finally arrived, Rip would instantly look for Gideon the moment he stepped in the door and take the seat beside her that Gideon ensured was kept for him. She would ask about Jonas and laugh or sympathise as per the story before they would spend all night talking, usually agreeing for Gideon to join Rip and Jonas for a day out or dinner within the next few days.

For a group of single people, there were a hell of a lot of couples in it.

  Laughter filled the room as the group talked once their meals were finished. It stopped suddenly when the doors opened, and a giggling couple arrived. A young doe-eyed girl and her date who looked utterly smitten, both appeared to be college kids.

“Sorry folks,” John said, “We’re not accepting walk ins tonight.”

They looked at one another confused before the boyfriend demanded, “What?”

“Read the website,” several voices called from around the room.

“We’re having an anti-Valentine’s Day night,” John apologised, “It’s bookings only.”

“Can’t you find us a table?” the girl asked, “We met here.”

“Afraid not but if you come back tomorrow I will make sure I have a table set aside for you so you can skip the queue,” John promised before clarifying, “It’s Chinese food night.”

A little disgruntled the couple gave their details before leaving, knowing they could skip the queue on the busiest and most popular evenings John had.

“So,” Sara spoke up once the couple were gone, “What cocktails did you come up with for tonight, John?”

All eyes turned to him and he grinned, “A few special ones, love. Including one which might blow your head off,” John turned to Rip, “And a mocktail for those who will be woken by a child at the crack of dawn.”

Cheers came from around the room and he passed them the cocktail menus, making the non-alcoholic one for the single father before taking orders.

  John sighed in relief when the last of his friends left the restaurant.

“Honestly,” he sighed in exasperation, “How can none of them see it.”

Spotting his floor manager appear from the kitchen, John asked, “Are we all squared away in the kitchen.”

The other man nodded, “It’s clean and ready for Max tomorrow.”

“And how did things go on your side?”

With another nod he replied, “Without a hitch.”

“Excellent,” John smiled at him, “What would I do without you?”

The other man smiled back before asking, “How did everything go here?”

John nodded, “It was a good night, but when it’s that crowd, I spend most of my night rolling my eyes. I just wish one pair would work out how they feel about each other then maybe the rest would follow.”

Shrugging his floor manager noted, “Sometimes people can be oblivious to what’s in front of them.”

With a sigh, John nodded, “You’re right.”

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” the other man told him, “Goodnight.”

John smiled, “Goodnight, Gary.”

[sleepyverstappens]

Your soul and mine

Title: Your soul and mine

Pairing: Charles Leclerc/Lando Norris

Rating: Gen/PG (bar a few curses)

Word Count: 2138

Tags: Charles Leclerc, Lando Norris, Alternate universe - Soulmate, Soulmate Identifying Marks

A/N:  Me writing a fic without Max *gasp!* apparently miracles do happen, because Max is only mentioned once in this one.J prompted me a Charles/Lando meet cute fic on whatsapp and my brain totally skipped over the meet cute part and instead this happened. I guess it's still quite cute though?Anyways hope you enjoy this one :D

Summary: Most people were very private about their marks, if they could hide it they would do so. So unless you were one of the unfortunate souls with a mark stretching over your face the mark would be hidden away from sight until you found your match. People would wear scarves and gloves all year to keep that little piece of them hidden if they needed to. Only openly showing their marks ones they had started moving, once they had met the other half of their soul.

Read on AO3

No, he thought, no it couldn't be, it was supposed to be Carlos. Carlos who's mark he'd seen just a flash of. A glimpse of it caught when he'd walked in on him unannounced as Carlos changed into his fireproofs. The intricate swirl of a tail peeking out on his shoulder before he could cover himself. Carlos’ eyes worried as they met his own, but Lando had somehow managed to play it off as if he hadn’t seen anything, joking about as if nothing had happened. 

Most people were very private about their marks, if they could hide it they would do so. So unless you were one of the unfortunate souls with a mark stretching over your face the mark would be hidden away from sight until you found your match. People would wear scarves and gloves all year to keep that little piece of them hidden if they needed to. Only openly showing their marks ones they had started moving, once they had met the other half of their soul. 

He'd only seen a glimpse of Carlos' mark, but that tail had looked so familiar, like the tail on his right foot. The tail connected to the little monkey that had been there since he was 15. The same monkey that was staring back at him on Twitter now, the intricate details just like his own standing out against the pale skin of Charles Leclerc's stomach.

Charles Leclerc who he had maybe spoken five words with all throughout last season, the Ferrari prodigy not interested in hanging out with the new rookies even though he'd been one himself only a season before. Happy enough to stick to Pierre or Seb’s side whenever they had some free time during the busy weekends. 

“Fuck,” he cursed softly. He knows the universe wouldn't just put him with Charles randomly, but then why did he hate the idea of being his soulmate so much? His mind had been so set on it being his teammate, the teammate who he got along with so well. Who would laugh at his dumb jokes, whose touches he would still feel long after his long fingers had left his body. Yet none of his touches had made his monkey start moving, not even a smidge. He’d held out hope, hope that maybe Carlos’ touches weren’t right, did they ever actually touch skin? His brain was coming with plenty of excuses of how it could still be Carlos, until he’d seen that picture, that undeniable picture. 

It had to be photoshopped right? People did that all the time and it wasn't like Sun of all tabloids was a trustworthy one. But then how could they have gotten it just like his one? This wasn't a random leaf or puzzle piece that anyone could think up, no it actually had the monkey missing one of its toes like his one. Unless the person that wrote the article was his soulmate there was no way someone had faked that soulmark. 

“Fuck,” he cursed once more, a little louder, some curious looks thrown his way from the other people in the hospitality cafeteria. What did people do when they found out who their soulmate was? Movies always made it so romantic, eyes meeting across a crowded room, the soft touch they’d share, eyes widening as their marks started moving, the rest of the world going quiet as they only had eyes for the one that made their soul complete. Yet here was Lando, sat all alone in the middle of a crowded canteen, cutlery clinking loudly through the noise of people chatting. He needed to get away from all the noise, get some fresh air, sort his head out.

The paddock was bustling with people, but the noise felt less crowding than it had done inside. It’s only the second week of testing and people seem a lot more chill than during the race weekends, waiting somewhat patiently for their favourite drivers as they go for their lunch break. He hasn’t driven yet today, Carlos racking up more miles in the morning before he would jump in in an hour or so. 

Charles has though and Lando wonders whether he’s seen the pictures yet. How the scums from the Sun had managed to catch the exact moment Charles’ shirt had lifted he doesn’t know. The picture showed the young man standing on the balcony of his Monaco apartment, hair a mess and eyes squinted closed as he stretched his arms above his head. People would say it was his own fault for not making sure the mark was covered, but he was at home, a space that was supposed to be safe. And he’d clearly only just woken up, his brain not firing on all cylinders yet and somehow the camera had snapped at that exact moment. 

He hadn’t realised how far along the paddock he’d walked, his feet stopping abruptly as his eyes caught the bright red Ferrari hospitality building. A lone figure sat outside on the terrace attached to it, the hood of his jacket up against the cold as he gripped his phone tightly. Lando could see the forlorn expression on Charles’ face, clearly he’d seen the picture, how they had zoomed in on his stomach, broadcasting his mark to the world. Seeing Charles like this made his heart ache, his head and his heart at war on whether or not he should go to Charles and tell him. Tell him that whilst it sucked what they had done it had made Lando find him, find his soulmate. 

He’s about to step forward, let his heart lead the way, when Charles glances up, their eyes meeting and Lando freezes. He can’t do it, he’s not ready, not ready to give up the possibility of someone else. Of brown eyes and a Spanish accent, instead of brown eyes and a French accent. He manages to make a small smile stretch on his lips before he rushes back to the McLaren hospitality, to the safety of his home away from home.   

---

The next two days of testing fly by quickly, they get through their scheduled programming without much trouble and he gets to set the fourth fastest time, just behind Lewis, Max and Sergio, Ferrari still struggling to find the pace even during the second week in Barcelona. He had tried to avoid the team of the prancing horse as much as possible, only catching a glimpse of Charles as he had walked into the paddock on Thursday morning, other than seeing his bright red car out on track.

So it’s a surprise to find himself sat across from Charles in the first class lounge at the airport. He’d been there first, lazily scrolling through the messages on various social media when Charles had let himself fall into the chair across from him. There’s only two other people in the lounge and yet he’d sat there, right across from Lando, the Brit’s eyes widening a little as he’d found Charles staring at him. 

They drag their eyes away from each other in sync, Charles’ eyes now also focussed on the phone in his hand. Lando can’t help but sneak a few glances up at the Monegasque, seeing a deep frown wrinkling up his forehead as he reads whatever is on the phone. Then Charles huffs loudly, his phone clattering onto the table loudly as he pushes it away from him. 

“What’s up?”

And now that frown is directed at Lando, brown eyes piercing into him before he lifts a condescending eyebrow. “Really? Like you don’t know, like the whole fucking world doesn’t know already.”

“Sorry,” Lando murmured, feeling embarrassed for even asking. He’d just wanted to be nice to the guy, maybe get him to open up about how he’s feeling with all the shit that’s going on and then maybe hint at the fact that Lando is his soulmate. But instead he’d already fucked it up, the angry scowl on Charles’ face really making him question the universe right now. Did he have it all wrong? It couldn’t be, he’d stared at that picture for so long, zooming in on every tiny detail to compare it to his own mark and he’d found nothing different. Fuck, how would he tell Charles and actually make him believe Lando. Show him his own mark before Charles could angrily run out of the lounge, thinking Lando was only taking the piss out off him.  

“I need to tell you something,” he murmured just as the tannoy was announcing that the flight to Nice was now boarding, Charles’ flight. 

“That’s me,” Charles shrugged apologetically, rushing to grab his carry on, wrapping his headphones around his neck and starting to leave. And in a moment of panic Lando reached out for him, halfway out of his chair, fingers wrapping around the Monegasque’s wrist. Skin touching skin. And it’s a fucking cliché, it’s a goddamn fucking cliché but at that moment everything seems to go in slow motion. Charles’s wide eyes finding his own as everything but Charles’s face becomes blurry around them.    

He can’t stop the gasp from escaping his lips, mouth falling open as the rushing of his blood becomes deafening to his ears. This was really happening. Charles really was his soulmate, the other half of his soul. Their body and mind connecting from that single touch. His fingers start to tingle where they are still wrapped around Charles’s wrist and he could feel his right foot starting to itch.

“It’s really you,” he finally managed to get out, the words somehow managing to break Charles out of his stupor as well. 

“What?” Charles said voice hoarse, unable to believe what was happening right now, his eyes flicking over Lando’s face to look for the answer to a question he didn’t even know yet. “What the fuck is happening?”

“We’re soulmates. I… I’m your soulmate. I didn’t want to believe it at first, when I saw the picture, but it’s really you,” Lando said overwhelmed. 

“But, wha… how?”

“The fucking universe thinks were meant for each other apparently,” Lando said with a shrug. Now that there was no denying it anymore, that it really was Charles that was his soulmate and not Carlos his brain gave in easily, not fighting this inexplicable force that had brought them together, that connected them. 

His foot really was starting to itch a lot now though, he stomped his left foot on top of the right one trying to stop it from itching, but it didn’t work. His movement had managed to direct Charles’s gaze towards where he was fidgeting though, his eyes focussing in on his right foot. “Is it there? Your mark?”

“Yeah, it’s itching like a bitch dude, how are you not scratching your stomach off right now?” Lando whined, finally giving up on trying to scratch his foot through his shoe and tugging the laces free. 

“Wait, wait Lando you can’t, not right here!”

“There’s no one here Charles, everyone’s gone to their flights.” He let himself fall back into his seat and tugged his shoe free from his foot, sock falling to the floor as well and then he gasped once more. Because where his mark had been stagnant before, the monkey on his foot was now moving its head to stare up at him, tail flicking as it scratched its cheek, before looping back around. The same movements would repeat themself on his skin now permanently, repeating themself until Charles would die breaking their bond. 

“Can I? Can I see yours?” He asked tentatively, fingers itching to reach out for Charles’s white t-shirt, to move it away and see the same pattern on Charles’s skin.   

With one last glance around the empty first class lounge Charles slowly lifted his shirt, gasping softly as he saw his own mark moving on his skin. The monkey moving its head to the side, flicking its tail, before scratching its cheek and on and on again. He gasped again, a little louder as Lando’s fingers touched his skin, tracing around the shape of the mark, following the lines of the delicate tail.

“Shit, sorry!” Lando cursed, drawing his hand back as if it had been burned. 

“It’s okay. Feels nice,” Charles murmured, sounding so in awe of everything that was happening right now. A bright smile was starting to appear on his face though, as if a weight had been lifted off his shoulders. “Come here,” he beckoned, drawing Lando up from his seat again and pulling him into a tight hug. 

“Last call for Mister Charles Leclerc,” the lady on the tannoy announced loudly, but Charles just tightened his grip around him, not moving away from the hug, perfectly content in the little bubble they were in.    

“C'est vraiment toi.” 

[verai-marcel]

Before This Dance Is Through (RDR2 Fanfic, Chapter 1 of 3, Arthur x Fem!Reader, 18+ ONLY)

Summary: You work at a super cute cat cafe run by your boss, Charles Smith. His friend, Arthur Morgan, is a tattoo artist who works across the street and comes by for coffee before he starts work. You’ve maintained a quiet and gentle persona in the hopes of getting him to fall for you, but one day, he catches you dancing your heart out to some dubstep in the downtown plaza early in the morning before most people are awake. What will you say to him when you see him staring at you, a dumbfounded look on his face?

Author’s Notes: My dear @r0xy-w0lf​ asked me for a fic about a Reader who can dance, and @myboah​ had a post asking what if Arthur was a tattoo artist in a modern AU. And SO BLAM, this story exploded from my brain, demanding to be written. And finally, I know practically nothing about street dance, so references might be vague to hide my ignorance. I'm sorry! 

Tags: modern AU, tattoo artist Arthur, fluff, romance, smut in Chapter 3, rough sex, probably incorrect dance terminology

AO3 Link is here, darlin’.

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Chapter 1 - Dance Around the Issue

It was a gorgeous summer morning, and you were cleaning tables at the cat cafe that you worked at. A pair of women were sitting in the corner, with one of them lifting her shirt sleeve to show off a tattoo. You noticed that it was an amazing design, a tiger lily that melted into a butterfly.

“That is so beautiful. Did you come up with it?”

“No, I just heard that if you talk to him for a while, he’ll come up with something for you, and it’s always this soul deep, beautiful thing that represents you perfectly.”

“Really? You just… talked?”

“Yeah, he sits you down, gets you some water, and just asks you how your day’s been, how you’re doing, and, I don’t know, I just ended up talking about my hopes and dreams. All the while he’s drawing in some little sketchbook. Twenty minutes later, he shows me this design and asks if it’s good, and I immediately said yes, draw it on me!”

“What, no way. No way anyone is that good.”

“His Instagram account says otherwise.”

You didn’t hear either of them speak for a while as one of them messed with her phone before handing it to the other. Then there were some gasps.

“Holy fuck. Holy FUCK.”

“I know, right? And here’s the kicker: he doesn’t even handle his Instagram account, he says his friend does all that social media stuff for him.”

“Well, whoever it is does a fucking good job at marketing him.”

“Right? Anyway, enough about me. How are you doing?”

The conversation carried on as you moved away from them, taking all the dishes and cups back into the kitchen.

Glancing at Charles, your boss and owner of the cafe, you noticed the smile on his face; it wasn’t a normal smile, more like the smile of someone laughing at an inside joke.

“What's up?” you asked as you walked by.

“I’ll tell you later,” he said.

***

Later that day, you reminded him.

“So what were you going to tell me?”

Charles scrunched his lips together as he tried to remember. “Oh, the two women talking about that tattoo artist? That’s Arthur.”

“Your friend who just joined the studio across the street?”

“Yup. Javier finally convinced him to leave his old studio after putting some hard numbers in front of him. Arthur’s so loyal, it took Javier writing out how much gas and time he was using to commute, and how little he was getting as an apprentice when he could be charging more as a solo artist.”

You had heard bits and pieces about Arthur from Charles and Javier, who was Charles’ business partner for the cafe, and did marketing for him. Javier was a charismatic man, who had actually suggested Charles hire a helper so he could focus on managing the cat lounge part of the cafe, which is why you were brought on board. So in a way, you were grateful to him, as you loved the laid back atmosphere of this job.

And during the slow times, you could play with the cats. 

***

You first met Arthur at the crack of dawn on a slow morning. 

"Hi, welcome to Crafty Cats!" You greeted the grumpy looking man with one of your gentle smiles; you were naturally quiet and easy-going when in the cafe, and fortunately that matched the general vibe of the lounge. Charles wanted it to be a place where people could relax and maybe consider adopting a cat, which was the other half of the business that he focused on. Your job was to make the cafe a place where people felt welcome, like they were coming back to an old friend. 

You observed the man as he walked up to the counter. He was easy on the eyes, but a bit intimidating, a big guy with big arms. His left bicep had a tattoo that went up his arm under the sleeve of his shirt; you couldn't see the rest of it, but it looked like some kind of animal, maybe a deer. His dark blue muscle shirt showed off his body rather magnificently, and his black jeans wrapped his hips lovingly. Good lord, if you didn't have a big man kink, you sure as hell had one now. 

"G'mornin'. Is Charles around?" 

Oh, his voice was deep, just the way you liked it, with a mix between a Texan and a southern twang to it. You pointed towards the cat lounge. Through the large window in the wall that separated the coffee bar and the cat lounge, you could see Charles in there brushing one of the cats. 

"I'll let you in," you said, walking out from around the counter. The man followed silently as you opened the door carefully and went inside. Immediately Natasha, a calico, started hissing at you. You rolled your eyes and ignored her; this was normal. 

"Hey, someone's here to see you?" You asked quietly. 

Charles looked up and smiled. "Hey Arthur. Have a seat, you can help me brush Natasha."

You winced. She only liked Charles. Whenever anyone else tried to pet her, she'd at best walk away. At worst, she'd hiss and bat at whoever came near. 

So you watched in utter disbelief as Arthur held his hand out and she immediately went up to him and nudged his hand, then plopped into his lap and started purring. 

"What…" 

Charles laughed at your reaction. "Arthur has a way with animals."

Then you heard Arthur croon softly to the cat, and your face heated up; you were suddenly wishing he was saying those things to you in that gravelly voice. 

"Good kitty, yer just a little sweetheart, ain'tcha?" he murmured as he took the brush that Charles wordlessly handed him and gently brushed Natasha. She just purred and blinked her eyes slowly. 

Charles got up and gestured for you to follow him. "I'll get you a coffee," he said over his shoulder to Arthur as he exited the lounge area with you. 

As soon as the door was shut, Charles looked at you knowingly. 

"He's single."

"I didn't ask!" 

Charles just smirked at you. "I could tell you wanted to know." He poured a cup of black coffee and handed it to you. "Bring this to him, please." 

You just shook your head. Your boss, playing matchmaker. Funny guy. But far too observant. 

***

It's been a couple months since then. Almost every morning, Arthur comes in for a coffee and plays with the cats, then goes to his studio. Sometimes he stops by after work to just chill with the cats, and Charles lets him. You wondered about the nepotism of it all, since the cat lounge had an admission price, but you didn’t bring it up. 

Turns out, you didn’t need to.

On a busy morning, Arthur, who was waiting in line for his coffee because he didn’t want to be that guy, asked you once he reached the counter, “Don’tchu charge people for hangin’ out in there?”

You nodded as you poured his coffee. “Yeah, $12 an hour.”

Arthur’s eyebrows shot up, but he didn’t say anything else as he accepted the coffee from you.

“But Charles said it’s okay for you,” you quickly added. “He said you’re not allowed to have pets at your place.”

“Charles and his big mouth,” he grumbled, but a soft smile played on his lips as he spoke.

You loved his small smiles, his irreverent humor, his grumpy cheer.

He gave you a twenty. 

"What's this for?" you asked, blinking stupidly. 

"For the time in there," he replied, pointing a thumb at the cat lounge. 

"I said-" 

"Tell Charles he can shove his charity." And he walked into the cat lounge, sat down, and was immediately surrounded by three cats. 

You smiled at the scene; a big man, rough around the edges, speaking gently to some cats. 

And then two women sat next to him and started chatting with him. 

You bristled, but you couldn't do anything about it. After all, who the hell were you, when you hadn't scrounged up the courage to talk to him beyond the usual small talk? 

***

The twilight right before dawn was your favourite time, because no one would be out in the downtown square near the clock tower at this hour. You put your bag down and pulled out your phone and a small Bluetooth speaker. Switching to your dance playlist, a mix of dubstep, hip hop, and house music, you connected your phone to the speaker and hit play. 

As the music flowed through you, you let your body take over, pushing your active mind back as you popped and locked with the beat, undulating your body like it was liquid. 

This was your secret passion: street dance. You could do it with a group in public, but on your own? You'd rather dance where few people could see, but your studio apartment was cramped, and the park had too many dog walkers, even at this hour. So when you could, you came here, with your little speaker, and danced your heart out. You shook out the stress of the day to day, and let yourself just be in the moment, feel the rhythm of the song, the beat of life as it thrummed through you. 

Today, you were dancing out your frustration of being too meek to approach Arthur, too shy to talk more with him. Definitely too scared to ask him out on a date. You couldn't help but be quiet and polite; it was how you were raised. But inside, you were a storm of passion and emotion, always letting out everything in the form of dance. Your dance today was aggressive, fiery, raw. 

Years ago, a friend had suggested you get out your stress through physical exercise, and had dragged you to one of his street dance classes. And you had fallen in love with the feeling of letting the music take over. Now you dance any chance you get, if you could get yourself out of bed early enough. 

Your playlist ended as the sun lit up the plaza, and you went to grab your speaker when you heard a familiar voice behind you. 

"Didn't know you could dance like that," Arthur said as he came up behind you. 

You jumped. "How long have you been watching?" 

"Oh…" He checked his watch. "Since 'bout half an hour ago."

That was the length of your playlist. He had been watching the whole time?

"Sorry, didn't mean to gawk, I just…" Arthur trailed off, rubbing the back of his neck and looking nervously away. 

"It's fine," you said quickly to assuage his embarrassment. "I'm dancing in a public square, it's not a big deal." 

He nodded his head, opened his mouth, then closed it again. 

You waited patiently for him to gather his thoughts. 

"You, uh, you dance good,” he finally said. Immediately sighing, he spoke again. “I mean, it was fun to watch. I couldn’t take my eyes off you.”

Your face heated up. 

Looking at your wide-eyed reaction and realizing what he said and how it sounded, Arthur cleared his throat awkwardly. “Well, guess I better get goin’.”

Your heart raced as you watched him start to walk to work. It was now or never. You gathered your courage, while the energy of the dance still beat in your blood. “Hey, would you like to get dinner with me tonight?”

He stopped mid-stride. Turning around, the confused look in his eyes made your heart plummet. 

“Are… you askin’ me out on a date?” His tone was that of disbelief.

“Um, I mean, if you don’t want to, that’s fine, I just...” You trailed off when you saw the confusion melt away, replaced with a genuine smile.

“I’d love to have dinner with you.” Arthur beamed at you, and it felt like you got a direct hit from the sun.

---------------------------

Chapter 2 is next.

[thewakingcloak]

Retrospective - ProtoDungeon: Episode II

The second episode of ProtoDungeon is just about complete, and I hope you're all looking forward to its release as much as I am! :D

And as devtober (working on the game every day for the month of October) is over, it's about time for a retrospective too. I prefer that term over "post-mortem," which makes it sound like the project died (though I guess this episode is graveyard-themed, so that might be appropriate!).

What didn't go well:

Mainly, I took on too much. This wasn't intentional, but it WAS a result of:

Not planning long-term.

Not breaking down big tasks and spreading them out

For example, the menu should’ve been broken out into the basic menu, audio settings, video settings, saving, and control remapping, and then divvied them up over the next few episodes. Instead, I did ALL OF THEM AT ONCE. It was a big task, and doing it all at once slowed me wayyy down. The lack of variety made it tough to make good progress.

Also the mausoleum… as happy as I am with the results, building out an extensive series of logic that I would only ever use once… bad idea. If I’d thought it through, I would have built it differently. Unfortunately, by the time I realized this, I was already halfway through, and undoing it would’ve been more work than just forging ahead.

What went well:

Devtober! I was able to work on the game every single day, and despite that I wasn't able to finish the game by the end of the month (not necessary for Devtober, just something I wanted to do), I made a ton of progress in little tiny steps. Momentum is a great ally.

Speaking of momentum, posting every day on the social medias—even just images of code or my Trello board—helped regain some of the interest that had waned over my quiet months. Posting every day forever is certainly not sustainable, but it’s something I could consider for once or twice a week.

Oh, and despite that I did too much this episode, I'm happy I won't have to build all these systems in the future. :)

What to start doing next time:

List out the remaining (known) tasks for the whole ProtoDungeon series

Make sure the tasks are broken down to an appropriately small size

Build these into a (flexible) roadmap

I wouldn’t say this went badly, but I’d like to keep early alpha testing more restricted and then only open it to patrons when it’s closer to being finished.

I think with some better planning, I’ll be able to finish Episode III quicker than six months.

The major new things we got in Episode II:

Ring of starlight—a new item is always a big deal and will be for every episode!

New audio engine—thanks to Wandersong for this! I was able to do some cool stuff with two different versions of the same music track

Menus—Episode I was just a static screen, but now we have new/continue game, audio settings, graphics settings, and controls remapping!

Autosaving—a huge undertaking, much bigger than expected. But now you can actually quit the game and come back and pick up where you left off. This is part one of the complete saving system, but it is the biggest, most difficultest part.

NPC—I’d planned a lot more dynamic action for this guy walking around and tending to the graveyard, but I managed to trim it down after spending so much time on everything else.

Day/night—another huge undertaking, including the ability to switch between day/night, lighting, day/night sensors and logic, and the palette shift shader (which means I had to rewrite how everything gets rendered due to the pixel scaling).

That’s not to mention dozens of fixed bugs and incremental improvements in various areas!

Anyway, I hope you’ll look forward to Episode II’s release on November 9. If you haven’t yet, check out Episode I here (it’s free!). And if you’re a patron, I’ll be opening up the poll for the Episode III item soon!!