#I’m very regular and the last two months have just been completely whack

[winemom-culture]

I finally got my period today 6 whole days late which is the latest I’ve ever been besides well you know. Once.

[thr-333]

Mismatch- Part 16

Bio Dad Bruce Wayne Month 2020

When everyones dates go very well

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“Thanks for dropping us off,” Marion slides out Selina's car, Kagami and Chloe following, “We couldn’t take the same route as them,”

“I’d be disappointed if you did,” Selina teases, with an edge of seriousness.

“Thank you,” Kagami chimes in, getting waved off by Selina as she and Chloe leave to hunt down the targets.

“So you’re going to tell him?” Marion whispers through the open window.

“Yep,” She sighs, tightening grip on the steering wheel, “We’re going to go on a date of out own, completely romantic, then ruin the evening,”

“You really think he’s going to be mad?” Marion cringes, getting a reassuring smile.

“At me,” She clarifies, “Don’t you worry he’ll be thrilled to have more kids,”

Marion holds back a laugh at her exasperated tone, “Have fun,”

“I won’t,” Selina assures, throwing back a, “Have fun,”

“I will,” Marion grins, spying on the totally-not-a-date between two disasters will be nothing but entertaining.

Marion waves at the leaving car before jogging to catch up with the girls. Staying slightly behind to watch them try and talk about plants. Chloe trying to sound more intelligent than ‘look at the pretty flower’, not that Kagami would mind. He resists the urge to drags his fingers through the leaves of ferns and vines as they walk down the winding paths of the botanical garden. Too many times has he touched plant life only for it to wither and die later, a side effect of holding his miraculous too long. So he always made sure Marinette is around to counteract the bad luck.

The urge gets easier to resist as they enter a more open garden area, filled with flower patches and green grass. Probably the cleanest place in Gotham likely thanks to a certain rouge that would hunt you down for littering here. He spots the two lovebirds and directs the girls to a nearby tree well suited for hiding behind as they spy on the little picnic Adrien has set up, in a grassy patch surrounded by flowers.

“Oh my god,” Chloe groans, “How can they be such idiots?”

“Can we just tell them?” Kagami asks irritably, not for the first time.

“No, let their relationship take its natural course,” Marion scolds, not for the first time.

“Do you think they’re going to be just as slow when they’re together?” Chloe complains more than asks, “Will they ever get married?”

“Are you kidding?” Marion scoffs, “The day after they get together someones going to propose,”

“Probably both,” Kagami predicts, watching as they both fumble over something.

“Probably,” Marion and Chloe both agree, as the fumbled object gets dropped.

“Well, hey there!” a high pitch voice shouts through their whispering, “Who’re we spying on?”

Marion whips around coming nose to nose with Harley Quinn herself. He takes a step back to see Poison Ivy standing just behind.

“Um…” Marion debates going for his baton, they didn’t seem hostile but they don’t need to be to cause damage, “Our friends date?”

“Ohhh!” Harley stands on her tiptoes to look over their heads, “Aren't they just precious?!”

“Yes,” Ivy agrees to Harley’s goo-goo eyes despite not having looked over once.

“Let's go say hi,” Harley links her arms with Marion and Chloe’s dragging them over to the picnic.

“What are you doing here!” Marinette shouts as soon as they approach, seemingly more surprised at them than the two rogues.

“I caugh’em spyin on ya and decided to drop in,” Harley releases them and sits down, “This looks delicious!”

Harley takes a cookie from a plate, eyes lighting up when she takes a bite. Marion locks eyes with Marinette as confused as him. It only gets worse when Ivy sits down as well, on the grass not the blanket. Well it’s not like he can just leave. Marion shrugs and sits down, immediately reaching over to steal from Marinette's plate, ignoring the plates around him.

“Sooo,” Harley hums partly around a mouthful of cake, rocking back with legs crossed, “What’s ya names,”

“Marinette, that's Marion,” Marinette hisses his name, as she tries to snatch back half a sandwich.

“Oh! Brucie’s kids!” Harley claps her hands together, “You’re the Wayne twins!”

“Uhhh…” Yes? No? Kinda? Soon? It’s up to him?

“No they're not,” Kagami takes a seat following Chloe, “It’s just a baseless rumour,”

“Yep!” Marion agrees way to loudly, “A completely baseless rumours, no fact here, nope,”

The look he gets from Marinette is expected, but it’s Chloe’s lingering gaze that really gets to him.

“I like what you’ve done with the flowers,” Marinette covers for him, alerting him that Poison Ivy had made many more bloom.

“I didn’t do much,” Ivy says, even as the grass around her is a couple inches taller than it used to be, “They already wanted to bloom so bright at seeing you,”

“Really?” Marinette sweat drops, reaching for her bag, “I do have a bit of a green thumb, I take care of a garden back home,”

“What wonderful things do you grow?” Ivy asks with keen interest, Adrien off to the side looking awestruck at Marinette’s composure.

“She’ll be takin all day now,” Harley spins towards the three other date crashers, “I didn’t hear your names!”

Chloe and Kagami startle as she leans further into their personal space.

“Surely if you’ve heard of the twins you’ve heard of me,” Chloe flips her hair, only getting a blank face from Harley, huffing, “Chloe Bourgeois,”

“Kagami,” She replies curtly, “Marion doesn't appreciate date crashing,”

“It’s alright Kags,” Marion assures, he more had a problem with having to hold her back from yelling at them both when they didn't kiss after fireworks.

“Ohhhh, are you two dating,” Harley stage whispers, making Chloe choke on her drink.

“No not at all,”

“Just friends,”

And not friends in the Adrien Agreste way.

“Ew gross you two dating?” Chloe cringes, “Ridiculous, utterly ridiculous!”

“Oh! Then you two!” Harley exclaims, addressing the girls.

“Umm…”

“Well I….”

“Yes,”

“Rion!” Chloe yells, blushing furiously at his shit eating grin.

“Well let me give you some advice,” Harley sing songs, a not so subtle glance back at Ivy.

“I don’t think that's necessary-”

“Hush now,” She shushes Kagami, “So when you're on a date and some bozo tries interrupting, there's this nifty thing you can do with certain nerves-Or! If you have the tools, a good whack upside the head-Or! My favourite! You get your gun and…”

Marion shifts away, still keeping Chloe and Kagami in his sights, both completely red.

“-And I planted this one three years ago,” Marinette explains, letting Ivy hold her phone, eyes glued to whatever picture was on it, “I know they tend to like partial shade but I found this one prefers to be more in the sun, so I just move it on especially sunny days,”

“Your garden is brilliant they all look so-” Her gaze snaps up to Marion, making him freeze in place, “They do not like you,”

“Um,” It takes a second to realise she was talking about the plants, “I guess not, the plants at home like me,”

“Do they?” Ivy frowns, and Marion desperately hopes she likes Marinette enough to not attack him.

“Well, we have a catnip plant that does,” Or at least Plagg likes it enough to do his best not to let anything, even himself, destroy it.

“You do?” Ivy turns to Marinette, who starts talking about the plant.

Marion takes this opportunity to escape back into the conversation they were having with Harley-

“And if you really want to have fun in bed you can-” Nope never mind.

Marion stands, considers bringing Adrien along to find some more snacks for their bigger group. But he seemed just as enthralled with Marinette as Ivy is with plants. He walks off waving to Marinette as she looks over to check on him. He smiles at the silent desperate pleads for help Chloe and Kagami give him. With a bounce in his step Marion walks off.

He didn’t even realise he had left them alone with two rouges until he was halfway through the gardens. Whatever. Marinette could handle them and they both seemed friendly enough, if not very polite. If they wanted to crash a date he can think of another person that would rather it happen to them.

“So the twins got out of hospital yesterday,” yes because that's a good way to bring up the topic of your illegitimate children to their out of the loop father.

“That’s fast,” Translated means; I’m suspicious.

“Did you look into those Paris heroes?” No she isn’t stalling not at all, this is important.

“I did, they’ve been working mostly alone for years,” Bruce scowls, picking at his food “I don’t know how the league hasn’t heard about this,”

“Didn’t Marion say this Ladybug person fixes everything?” Selina hums, she had been to Paris and never saw anything, they couldn't be that good could they?

"Is that what he meant?" Bruce looks up at her genuinely puzzled.

Selina hides her smirk behind her wine, which she desperately needed for this conversation. She had forgotten not everyone could understand their babbling. Not even Bruce, yet. She merely hums in response, before taking a gulp of wine.

“I plan on contacting her,” Bruce admits out loud, their secluded rooftop table ensuring privacy, “Did they say anything more to you?”

“They’ve had some other things on their mind lately,” She doesn't meet his eye, so they were back to this topic, great.

“Post traumatic stress?” Bruce guesses, she wished- wait no- that's not good.

Selina would rather do this a hundred times over than have her kids suffer like that. Fortunately they didn't seem to be. Which could be concerning in its own right.

“No, actually, they seem completely unaffected by a near death experience,” Selina sighs, they should be right? Thats normal for regular people right? Well they weren't normal, mainly because of the man sitting across from her, who needed to know that, “Just like their father,”

“Tom?” of-fucken-course he had to make this harder, no she will not admit she was purposefully vague.

“No,” Selina feels the anxiety in her chest choke her, “You,”

And nope that last word only made it worse.

“... What?” Bruce pauses, fork still in mid air.

“You,” She places her empty glass down, the clink hitting the table deafening.

“... Selina, what are you saying,” Bruce lowers the fork, halfway between a scowl and suspicion.

“I mean we’ve been at it for years is it really that surprising?” Selina tries to play off, joking tone not overshadowing her panic.

“Selina,” Theres that stern tone, paired with the signature Bat glare.

“... They’re your kids, our kids,” Selina corrects, making sure to meet his eye. No tricks this time.

She lets the silence hang, studying Bruce's face. At first you can clearly tell he's trying to keep a mask on, but it cracks bit by bit. She sees confusion, realisation, panic, anger, disappointment all over lapping. Swirling together repeating over and over again until settling on anger.

“Why didn’t you tell me!” He explodes, pushing her off the ledge she had been on all day, or the last couple days, or hell for eighteen goddamn years.

“Because you-you’re-” She fumbles, so many reasons, mainly relating to Bats in some way, but that wasn't the main reason, “You said you didn’t want kids!”

“You never told me I already had kids!" The realisation hits Selina that he remembers.

If it was just now, or he had for years. He remembered the night she had asked if he wanted a family. He had said no. That he couldn't. That he had a responsibility to the city. So she had left. Not daring to see him when she was pregnant and not wanting to see him afterwards. The next time she saw Bruce he had just adopted a child.

“What would you have done! Huh?!” A child who a year later was chasing criminals around Gotham, “Would you quit? Would you dress them up too and make them fight crime!? I sent them to Paris to avoid that!”

“You know full well I never made them do anything!” Maybe not on purpose, but they do a whole lot for his approval.

“Their kids Bruce! You should have never let them join you out there!” She rants, pacing away from the table.

She gave them up so they would never join her either. Although with how much Marion likes cats he would surely love his own cat suit.

“How would you know what would happen?” Bruce demands, keeping pace with her, dragging his hands through his hair, “I-god- I hadn't even adopted Dick yet and you wrote me off!”

“ Exactly , do you really think you could have raised them!” Dick's his argument for good parenting? Better than Jason.

“Maybe I wanted to!” Bruce yells, anger crumbling, he collapses onto a love seat looking over the city, “Maybe I wanted to raise at least one of my children,”

“I know,” Selina tentatively sits on the chairs arm, reaching over to him, “But they deserved a chance to live without all this ,"

She vaguely gestures to the city and partly to Bruce. Who looks offended at his inclusion.

"They’ve been in Gotham a week Bruce," She slides into the seat, arguing her point before he has the chance, "And they have the press after them, villains attacking, they just got out the hospital ,”

“Hm,” Bruce looks out at the city, not really seeing any of it. “They really are like me huh,”

“Without a doubt,” She gets a slight tug at the lips from Bruce, completely humourless.

They fall silent Bruce looking out at the city. She studies his expression, less of a world wind of emotion now but certainly still in turmoil. He starts to fix his mask back in place, she looks away so he doesn't have to. Looking out at the view they were meant to be enjoying on their date. One that she had planned. Bruce was never going to trust her to plan one again. Or at least he will always be expecting her to spring shocking news on him.

“What do you want to do now?” She asks the question she has wondered for years.

Whenever they were alone and things were calm, unnervingly calm for Gotham. She had thought of telling him. Partly because the calm alarms her, in a life of chaos she felt out of place in it. It would be the perfect way to bring the storm. While cats tended to hate water she has been an alley cat all her life, the calm was meant for house cats. However, thats what the other part of her wanted. For that calm to stay, but to include their kids. Who always sat at the edge of that calm, threatening to ruin it never letting her settle into it. Maybe that was why she could never enjoy it. Maybe now that they were in the storm, the next calm would be with the two of them.

“... I don’t know,” a rarity for the Batman, more common for the man underneath.

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Taglist:

@technicallyburninggarden @fusser90  @misslenamooney @superbwhispersconnoisseur @biodad-bruce-month

[hunidlo]

Call of Fire

CHAPTER 5 - The Quarry

Rating: M

Word Count: 3K

Pairing: The Mandalorian x F!Reader

Warnings: slow burn fic, language, this chapter is quite safe :)

Summary: You’re still not sure whether you should trust the Mandalorian. Both of you have your secrets and none of you is willing to share them with each other just yet.

Previous Chapter  // ��Masterlist

***

“Mando!” you hear someone shouting across the parking area as you and your armour-clad companion descend the ramp. “Didn’t expect you to be back so soon.”

You landed on Nevarro just moments ago.

“I need to refuel and repair my ship,” the Mandalorian replies and grabs the man's outstretched forearm to greet him.

“My people will get right on it” the man gestures towards some mechanics nearby and they immediately get to work. “Shall we?” he tilts his head and shows the way with his hand.

The Mandalorian nods and you all walk to the city.

“I don’t think I’ve had the honour yet,” the man says, turning his head to you. “Grief Karga, I am one of Mando’s dear friends.”

Friends? You did not expect the Mandalorian to have a friend given his hostile demeanor. Moreover, the plural indicates he has more than one. Who would have thought.

“I wouldn’t go that far,” a grunt comes from under the bescar mask.

Karga lets out an amused chuckle, “Of course I am.”

You give Karga your name in return, smile a little, and shake his hand.

His face expression suggests he’s expecting you to elaborate and tell him more about yourself or your relationship with the Mandalorian but you just silently blink at him. You are not even sure what your reply should be. What are you to the Mandalorian? His passenger? Probably. But you do not intend to share more about the circumstances that made you into one or your destination for that matter. Fortunately, he doesn’t ask more questions when you don’t provide the information. 

“Hope he has been treating you nicely,” Karga continues after a couple of moments.

“You mean this?” you ask, pointing at your bruised face which he’s clearly referring to. Thanks to the ointment the Mandalorian gave you, it is now looking significantly less painful than it did yesterday but it’s still undeniable that someone has whacked you pretty hard. “Would be much worse, if it wasn’t for him.”

The Mandalorian turns his look to you for a brief moment almost as if surprised to hear you actually admit he saved your pitiful ass from the bandits. 

Yesterday you told him some nasty things and blamed him for your friend’s death but the fire and rage are now gone and you feel like yourself again—like a rational person who knows the Mandalorian was right about him being the reason why you are still alive now. 

“Is that right?,” Karga says and looks at the Mandalorian, his eyebrows raised. “You have to tell me all about it someday but right now I’d like to talk to Mando here alone for a moment if you don’t mind. Why don’t you look around the city in the meantime? You have to try Murr’s sandwiches. He has a stand just down this street. Tell him, I sent you.”

“O-Okay,” you smile hesitantly at Karga and turn to the Mandalorian. “How do I find you?”

“I’ll find you. Don’t leave the city,” he says.

You don’t like this solution very much.

He does not wait for your consent though and before you can come up with a response, both men disappear in the crowd, leaving you on your own in the foreign city.

Well, if he leaves you here, at least he has decided to do so on an inhabited planet, right? 

“Okay, you can do this,” you try to reassure yourself as you walk towards the marketplace. You have never visited a foreign planet in your adult life and already feel lost and out of place. “You can do this.”

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“I didn’t think you’d be the type to bring a date along with you,” Karga says when they arrive at his office. “But good for you, my friend, she seems—”

“The deal’s off,” the Mandalorian is fed up with the chit chat.

“Wait ... What? Why?”

“How many tracking fobs did you give away this time?”

“Only one. To you.”

The Mandalorian sighs, puts hands on his hips and shakes his head. “The deal’s off,” he repeats resolutely.

“Come on, Mando. Talk to me. What happened? Have you found the quarry?”

“Yes.”

“Well? Where are they?”

The Mandalorian sits down on one of the chairs, leans back with a relieved sigh and puts his legs on Karga’s desk, crossing them. “You’ve just sent her to buy a sandwich,” he says bluntly.

“What? Her? Fuck, Mando!” Karga starts panicking while his armour-clad friend remains stoic and lazily folds his arms behind his head. “What the … I told you the quarry might be dangerous. Why isn’t she in carbonite or in binders?”

“She’s not dangerous. I know for a fact that she has never held a weapon in her hand.”

“That doesn’t mean—”

“It can’t be her,” the Mandalorian growls.

“How can you be so sure? What do you actually know about her?”

The Mandalorian takes a second to think. “I watched her, saw her with the villagers … her friend … she’s no killer.”

“She might not be a killer herself, but she’s the reason people are dead—.”

“She’s a fucking farmer ...,” the Mandalorian finally erupts and both men stare at each other in complete silence for a few seconds.

“Why did you bring her here, then?” Sensing the growing tension—Karga decides not to push the heavily armed men in his office any further. "Wouldn’t it be safer to leave her on her planet and say you haven't found her?”

“Things got … complicated,” comes from under the metal helmet glumly.

“Not again …”

“This wasn’t a regular job for the guild and you know it. I agreed to do it as a favour to you,” the Mandalorian reproves.

“I know and I didn't mean to sound ungrateful … Let’s assume you are right. What is your plan now?”

Taking his boots off the desk and bending over to rest his elbows on his things, the Mandalorian contemplates his reply for a beat, knowing damn well he might regret his decision. “I’m not turning her in. You can tell your friend on Carajam they hunt the wrong person. She’s not an informant for the Empire … or whatever’s left of it.”

Karga sighs deeply. “Okay, I’ll think of something … By the way, why did you ask whether I gave away more tracking fobs?”

“Someone attacked us. I think they were tracking her too.”

“Then you know they won’t stop looking for her.”

“Probably.”

“So what are you going to do?”

”Not sure yet. She wants me to take her to her parents—to Hoth.”

“Mind to elaborate?”

“That’s all I know, she only cares about getting to her parents. However … I do have a feeling she might be hiding something.”

“Told you …”

“Having a problematic relationship with your parents doesn’t necessarily mean you’re a threat to society.” The Mandalorian leans back again and fidgets with his gloved fingers unconsciously.

“Hoth, you say?” Karga places his index finger against his lips, thinking. “Tell you what … get her to Hoth, see what you find there, help her find her parents, find out as much as you can about her and then you can decide whether you’ll turn her in or let her go. I won’t question your decision then and will deal with Rungrell.”

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You walk through the marketplace. Never have you been to such a city. The only place comparable to this one was the fishing town on your planet that you visited several times when you joined the men who ventured there to buy some new tools and equipment for farming. It wasn’t as lively though. There are various vendors selling food and gadgets you have never seen in your life, and you feel like stopping at each and every one of them to find out whether their goods could be of any use to you.

You haven’t bought anything so far other than the sandwich Karga has recommended to you. The vendor was a nice elderly Cerean called Murr who—having heard about who sent you—gave you the most expensive sandwich he had for free. Karga was right, it was delicious. The last food you ate was what the Mandalorian gave you several hours ago. It was some processed food that no doubt was nutritious, but far from tasteful.

It’s been nearly two hours since the Mandalorian left you in the city all by yourself and you are wondering whether he will ever come back for you. 

What will you do if he doesn’t? Will you be able to find someone else on this planet who would give you a ride to Hoth? Maybe you could ask Karga, he seemed nice and trustworthy enough—and apparently has connections around here—maybe he would be able to help. Yes, that is what you would do. You don’t have much credits but you could find a job here, work for a couple of months and then pay someone with a ship. You will not give up on your quest to find your parents, that’s for sure.

Despite having an emergency plan, you cannot help but feel a bit sad and disappointed about the possibility of the Mandalorian leaving you behind without even saying goodbye. Sure, he has no responsibility towards you and was right when he said that he didn’t agree to take you to Hoth. Still, you wish … you want to spot him leaning against one of the sales stands or the buildings on either side of the street so you eagerly keep looking around hoping to set your eyes on the familiar man in shiny armour. If nothing, you should at least thank him.

You stop at the stand that displays and sells all sorts of trinkets and lucky charms, of which most look like useless junk. You do not even pay attention to any of the items—being too lost in your thoughts when you hear a modulated voice—almost a raspy whisper—coming from behind your ear. “You’d better buy a pair of good boots and some warm clothes instead of browsing through trash …“

The Mandalorian is standing behind you, leaning over your shoulder to look at the counter in front of you.

You sigh at the familiar sound, smile in relief and turn to face him. 

“... Unless you want to freeze to death, that is …” he finishes, his visor now trained down at you.

“What’s wrong with my clothes?” You try to hide the fact that his proximity still gives you the chills with a light teasing tone.

“Nothing,” the beskar-clad gunslinger says, not moving a muscle to give you more space, ”but I thought you wanted to go to Hoth … and Hoth is an icy planet.”

“Oh,” you squeak, dumbfounded, “I didn’t know.” Really. It did not occur to you that Hoth might have a different climate than the one you are used to. Sometimes your naivety surprises even yourself. You have never seen snow. There were winters on your part of the planet but they were rather mild and dry. It never snowed there. “Where should I … Can I get anything that I need here?”

“I think I might know a place.” He turns swiftly and strides across the marketplace to a shop in one of the dark alleys.

“So you’re gonna take me to Hoth then,” you breathe out, trying to keep up with his pace. 

“Do I have a choice?” He doesn’t sound particularly happy about it but he isn’t angry either. 

That’s a pleasant turn of events, you think.

“Well, you could have left me here. In fact, I thought you would.”

“I come to Nevarro quite often, meaning every time I’d be here, you wouldn’t stop bothering me about taking you to Hoth.”

“That’s probably correct,” you laugh softly but still can't get rid of the feeling that there’s more to it than he lets out.

It seems that this shop sells anything one can think of. You can see all sorts of tools, spare droid parts, small machinery, devices and even second-hand armours. Apparently, the Mandalorian is a regular customer here, judging by the friendly yet respectful way the owner greets him. 

The vendor needs to go through almost everything she has in stock but finally manages to find what you need and sells you a warm light blue jacket, boots, woollen hat and a pair of mittens.

“I guess I should buy some food for the trip too,” you turn to the Mandalorian, holding the last credits you have in your open palm when you leave the shop. The garments cost you more than a half of your credits but you don’t want to live off of the Mandalorian’s supplies so you just hope what you have will be enough.

“I already took care of that. Let’s go,” he utters.

“But …”

He senses your objection. “You said your parents were rich, didn’t you? You can pay me later.”

So, is this his motivation for helping you? Credits? He didn’t seem interested when you tried to buy him the first time, telling him your parents were rich.

“Okay.” You try to supress the thought of what his reaction will be when he finds out you were lying to him.

It’s a strange feeling—walking a couple of steps behind the Mandalorian, accompanying him to his ship and seeing all the people in the streets trying to get out of his way as soon as they set eyes on him. You wonder whether it is the armour and mystery of a masked assassin or whether they actually had the chance to witness what he’s capable of. It’s like they know that he can be a lot of trouble when messed with and for some reason, being part of his crew now and getting the same respect as he does emboldens you. It seems like they fear you too, just because you are with him. You secretly wish you had this kind of vibe when the bandits came to your village.

You make a couple of quick steps to catch up with him. “I heard Karga calling you Mando ...” You try to initiate a small talk despite knowing that the Mandalorian isn’t a talkative type per se. “Is that a name I can use to call you too since you’ve not given me your real one?”

In fact, you do not even expect him to give you his name. During the couple of days you have spent in his presence, you learnt he prefers not giving up too much about himself so the simple hm that you get from him as an answer is enough for you to continue. “So Mando, have you ever been to Hoth before?”

“No,” he says shortly.

“Neither have I. Well, you already know that …” Idiot, you scold yourself for making such a stupid comment. “Overall, I haven’t been to many planets in my life.” For an unknown reason, you progressively get more and more nervous.

“I figured.”

Of course he did. How could he not …

“You travel a lot?”

“My job requires it.”

“What’s the nicest—”

“What are your parents doing on Hoth?” he cuts you off unexpectedly. 

You practised the answer to this question when you were on your own in the marketplace today as you had a hunch it might come up sooner or later. “Um, my father was a pilot, he served in the Rebel Alliance.” You can’t lie, yet you have done it several times now with Mando, hoping he can’t see through it. “My parents left me on my mother’s home planet to make sure I’m safe. That was fifteen years ago. I was told there is a Rebel base on Hoth, my parents should be there.” Okay this part was true.

“Why now?”

“Hm?” You look at him puzzled.

“Why have you decided to look for them now?” he clarifies.

Is he going somewhere with all these questions or is he just genuinely interested.

“I learnt their location only after Zulu died. She wanted me to reunite with them. I just wish to see them again, that’s all.”

The Mandalorian stops in his tracks and looks at you, his head slightly tilted to the side in suspicion. You have no idea what is going through his head, however, you are glad he doesn’t ask any more questions for now and continues walking after a beat.

“You’re good to go,” the Morseerian mechanic announces when you get to the ship.

“Thank you,” Mando replies simply.

Wow, apparently he can be polite when he wants to.

You help him load the supplies and prepare for take off. 

“Here,” Mando comes to you when you put down the last crate, holding a package in his hands, offering it to you.

It’s …

“A towel?” You blink at him with wide eyes.

Well, that’s a surprise.

“You mentioned, you didn’t have time to pack.”

“No … I mean yeah. Um, thank you.”

If someone had asked you a day ago what your opinion of the silent, always grumpy Mandalorian was, you would have probably said he was an uncivilized jerk and you regretted ever setting foot on his damn ship. But now … he gave you a towel—such a small, meaningless gesture and yet you can’t help but smile at him with gratitude.

He climbs up to the cockpit without a word, leaving you in the cargo hold still staring at the piece of fabric in your hands—perplexed.

When you eventually join him, he’s already pressing some buttons and typing coordinates, getting reading to take off.

“Buckle u—” he turns to you only to see that you are already seated and have fastened your seat belt.

“I'm a quick learner,” you smirk.

You cannot see his expression but you’re quite sure he’s smiling now, judging by the little puff he makes—almost resembling a gentle chuckle—before he turns back to the control panel and takes off.

***

Previous Chapter  //  Masterlist

[fanficshiddles]

This wasn’t part of the plan, Chapter 6

Melody did as she was told and packed in her job at the pub. She felt oddly relieved when she did it, even if she did still have her doubts about her sugar daddy.

She found it weird having so much free time again all of a sudden. The evenings were hers to do as she pleased with. And she could not wait for the weekend to have a long lie on Saturday, her first long lie in months! Heck, she could have a pyjama day if she so desired to.

It was odd during English class, seeing Tom… well, Mr Hiddleston. Acting like there was nothing going on in private. What he’d said to her the other day when she was making him tea kept ringing around her ears, making her blush so hard she had to hide behind a textbook from him in-case he noticed. She really wouldn’t put it past him to say something to embarrass her on front of the class. But she managed to get through his classes unscathed.

And as the days went on that week, she found herself able to focus more and more in all of her classes. Now she was getting proper rest and time to study out-with college hours, it was getting easier. Even Tom was noticing a difference in her work already. Her hand-writing was better too, not as rushed or sloppy.

On Friday, it was almost the end of English class. As usual, everyone was excited for the weekend so were a bit antsy, even though English was the first class of the morning.

‘Calm down, everyone. Don’t make me hand out homework for the weekend.’ Tom said in warning, making everyone fall silent instantly.

He stood and turned to the whiteboard, writing up some work. Melody couldn’t help but take that opportunity to admire his ass, like she was sure a lot of the pupils were also doing. He had a great ass.

But of course, she wasn’t very lucky and got caught looking. Mr Hiddleston looked over his shoulder and saw her staring.

‘You are supposed to be taking notes, Miss Brookes.’ He barked.

She jumped and her eyes shot up to his face, he was looking at her sternly that made her stomach flip.

‘Sss… sorry, Sir.’ She said quickly and averted her eyes back down to her paper.

It took a few minutes for her to calm down again after the slight chastising.

At the end of the class, there was another surprise in store for her. Just when she thought she was getting off free.

‘Miss Brookes, stay behind please.’ Mr Hiddleston said when the bell rang.

‘Good luck.’ Rana whispered to her on her way out.

Melody waited until everyone else had left the room, then she slung her bag over her shoulder and went to the top of the class to see what he wanted. She felt dread inside of her, worried about what he was going to say. Though she was glad there was no one else around.

‘Yes, Sir?’ She asked quietly, stopping at the other side of his desk.

Tom looked up at her and smiled, he actually smiled at her. And it wasn’t one of his forced or patronising smiles, it was a genuine one. He took off his glasses and put them down. ‘Just to say, I am really pleased with your work these last few days. There is a huge improvement already.’

She was surprised at that, her eyes widening slightly. But she smiled back at him. ‘Oh… Thank you. Well, I’ve been able to get more time in for revising.’

‘Glad to hear it.’ Tom chuckled. ‘I’ll send a taxi round to pick you up tonight, six o clock. So be ready.’

‘Ok…. Uhm, would it be possible for the taxi to pick me up from Rana’s place?’ She asked, hopeful.

Tom raised an eyebrow. ‘Sure. Needing some moral support before going back into the lion’s den, are we?’ He teased.

Melody wasn’t really sure what to make of this teasing Tom. She wasn’t sure if she liked it or not. It was certainly… different. Throwing her off guard a little.

‘Uh, yeah. Something like that.’ She blushed.

‘You can speak to Rana about us, if you want to. I know it is different to regular relationships. If you trust her completely not to tell anyone else, and it will help you, then you should talk to her.’

That really surprised Melody. But she was grateful.

‘Really?’

‘I wouldn’t have said it if I didn’t mean it, Melody.’ He said with a sterner tone. There he was again, the teasing and slightly playful Tom didn’t last for too long.

‘Ok… thank you… Mr Hiddleston.’ Melody nodded and then made her way to the door, she stopped and turned back to him briefly. ‘Uhm… sorry about earlier when I wasn’t taking notes.’

Tom was looking down at some work again, but he smirked. ‘No worries, Miss Brookes. I know my ass is too sexy to avoid looking at.’

Melody’s eyes widened and she did not know what to say to that. So she just scurried out of class as quickly as she could.

-

‘SHOOK! I AM SHOOK, MEL! WHAT THE ACTUAL HELL?!’ Rana screeched when Melody told her about who her sugar daddy was.

They were at Rana’s and Melody was getting dressed for the date.

‘I know! I know! I wanted to tell you, but wasn’t sure if he wanted anyone else to know. But then he said to me it was ok to tell you, if I trust you. Which I do, obviously.’

‘I so feel like some weird accomplice now.’ Rana laughed.

‘Well, you kind of are in a way. But now you know why I’ve been so… unsure, about it all. It’s not just some random hot rich guy. It’s our damn teacher!’

‘True. But, in a way, it’s better. At least you know him, that he’s not some random pervy weirdo.’ Rana shrugged.

‘You’re taking this way better than I thought you would.’ Melody said, glaring at Rana suspiciously.

‘What can I say? I totally ship you two.’ Rana grinned.

It was almost six and Melody was almost ready. ‘I feel sick, Rana. I’m about to sleep with my teacher!’

‘Breathe, Mel. It’s alright. He’s not your teacher out-with College. Just see him as a really hot, rich guy who wants to wine and dine you… Then fuck you senseless, no doubt. He looks to be packing, I just hope he knows what to do with it.’ Rana winked at her.

‘Shut up, that’s not helping my nerves!’ Melody playfully whacked her arm.

‘Oh come on, you can’t tell me that you’ve never even once thought about what it would be like to fuck him.’ She folded her arms over her chest and glared at Melody.

‘Well… maybe at the start. Before I learned what an ass he can be.’ Melody shrugged.

Rana rolled her eyes and groaned. ‘From what you’ve told me, he doesn’t sound all that bad. He’s just a strict teacher, most of them are. Do you remember that absolute dragon of a teacher we had in primary school? She was a million times worse than Hiddleston.’

‘Oh god, yeah. She was definitely a witch.’ Melody agreed.

‘Exactly. Now sit still while I do your make-up.’ Rana moved in on her with some eyeliner.

Once Rana deemed her ready to go, she let Melody take a look in the mirror. She did quite like the look actually. Rana had gone with her to go shopping for some new clothes earlier, the dress she’d picked was tasteful but also sexy too. Showing off just the right amount of cleavage.

‘He will not be able to take his eyes off you!’ Rana said gleefully.

‘Yeah… that’s maybe what i’m kind of worried about.’ Melody said nervously as she smoothed her hands down her dress.

Rana grabbed her hands and squeezed her. ‘You will be fine. I promise!’

A taxi came to collect Melody bang on time, like Tom had said. She had no clue where it was taking her, because Tom had refused to tell her the name of the restaurant.

But she was pleasantly surprised when she was taken to a lovely restaurant not too far away, it was an Indian restaurant. One of the best in London. She was really excited as she hopped out of the car, then she stopped dead when she saw Tom waiting for her outside. He was wearing a magnificent looking suit, that fitted him so well.

‘Good evening, darling.’ He grinned, looking her up and down.

His eyes went slightly darker, he was looking at her like she was his next meal. The first clear sign of things to come that night…

[hazard-and-friends]

Month 5

Holy cow, I've had this boy for 5 months! Sometimes it feels like we're just treading water, but then I look back at my posts from the first couple weeks and I'm flabbergasted at how far we've come in so little time.

Anxiety: He has come off the gabapentin, although we still have a backup stock for him (or Penny) in particularly stressful situations. He's still on 50mg of trazodone 2x daily. I'm seeing an increased arousal and more difficulty calming down, and in particular he's backslid considerably on the separation anxiety. I've gone back to crating him when I leave, even if Jo is here, and he's pretty upset for the first couple minutes. That being said, there's also signs that some of this is FOMO, rather than separation anxiety, because he's expecting to go on a walk any time I get ready to leave. Two steps forward, one step back.

Cat: We moved things again yesterday. Now his crate is in a corner (not at the foot of the bed) and Penny's cat tree is at the foot of the bed (not in the corner). Penny has been getting bored and returning to whack-a-dog, and I have been reminded that regular shakeups are good for undersocialized dogs to learn about novelty. So now she has other things to do, and he has to deal with a neutral, new thing. It's also providing them with new ways to get access to each other safely, and it's very funny to see how much Hazard's arousal around Penny is directly related to her doing New Things. He's completely calm when she's on the floor right next to the gate, but out of his mind when she's climbing the cat tree! It gives me hope that some day, even cats doing exciting things near him will be boring, or at least manageable.

Crate: Because the crate moved yesterday we've seen some backsliding here as well. He cried for about 5 minutes after the lights went off last night, and then fell asleep. However, mostly what's happening is he can't always remember that his crate has moved. Yesterday after I did his flea med, he tried to crate himself--by squeezing under the cat tree. It didn't work out super well.

Weight: Down! He and I are going to lose the same percentage so it's a good motivator.

Formal training: Watch continues, and has a cue! Sit continues diversifying, and as part of reactivity work, he's learning a heel cue and an about face cue.

Handling: Slow and steady! Working hard on chin rest and side downs, and very very hard on foot handling. He's getting somewhere! I can pick up his feet several times in a row without him walking off, which is huge progress.

Stranger danger: He met a stranger this week! Admittedly, another skinny white femme person but hey, a stranger. We'll start diversifying strangers this week.

On days I work, we do 2 walks and handling work. On days I have off, we add reactivity work (beyond the walks), levels work, and separation anxiety. I want to add relaxation protocol back in but whoo boy, we might be doing enough already.

[peterparkers-tingles]

Just the Right Time (Tom Holland)

This is my first fanfiction, sorry if it’s not super good, I’m sure i’ll get better at writing summarys and shit but for now here ya go.

Summary: you recently went through a break up with your long time boyfriend, you’re miserable and trying to distract yourself. you decide to go to the mall with your friends when you meet someone. a beautiful relationship builds from there.

Warnings: italics are texts, curse words, think thats it tbh

Word count: 664, theyll get longer just starting out

Chapter 1

It was the fifteenth of June. Three months exactly since you and Kyle had broken up... for the second time. To say you were miserable was an understatement, you were completely heartbroken. How could you not be? You loved him, and he didn’t love you anymore. You’d been trying for the last three months to keep yourself occupied, distracted, anything so you didn’t think about how much you missed him. Today was no different, going to the mall with your best friend Gia and sister Chloe. At least you had the comfort of retail therapy, although, most of the stores at the King of Prussia mall were way out of your price range anyway. You guys chose to go there though since it is the biggest mall in your state, your extremely boring state, Pennsylvania. 

You were sitting in front of your mirror finishing up putting on some makeup when your phone buzzed. A text from Gia in your notifications,

* Bitch, I’m here. Let’s go.*

“Chloe! Gia’s here, let’s go, now!” You screamed at your little sister, who wanted to tag along. You grab your wallet hurriedly, not wanting to make Gia wait very long and leave your house. 

“Alright, I’m comin’, calm down.” Chloe said in her fake British accent. You weren’t sure why you guys did a fake accent so often, it somehow just became a thing and it’s almost become impossible to talk in your regular accent now.  

“Alright let’s go, I’m ready to buy way too much with all the zero dollars I have. Put some music on please.” Gia said putting the car in drive and pulling out of your driveway. 

“Are we looking for bag music or hot girl summer music?” You asked scrolling through your spotify playlist.

“I’m thinking hot girl summer, I don’t really wanna be sad right now so let’s not go to bag music quite yet.” Gia said following the directions on her GPS. 

“Hot girl summer it is.” You said as the song Hungry Hippo by Tierra Whack plays through the speakers. 

“He likes my diamonds and my pearls, I said thank you I designed it.” You and Gia screamed along to the song. 

                     **************************************************************

After about two hours of walking through the mall spending money on meaningless things you pass by the Gucci store. 

“Can we PLEASE go in I really want to buy some shoes or something!” Gia says to you grabbing your wrist. 

“Were you not the one who said you had zero money?” You asked laughing. 

“I always have enough for something from Gucci, I saved my money up specifically for this, I’ll even buy you a wallet or something. Come on, please?” Gia asked expectantly. 

“Alright, fine but they might not even let me in considering how broke I look.” You said following her in.

Immediately after walking in, Gia went straight for the bags. She found a black velvet crossbody that she had had her eye on forever. You browse the store finding something small because you felt bad that Gia was doing this for you. You show her the small keychain that you picked out and she goes to pay for everything. You guys leave the store and Gia is trying to figure out how to get back to the car while you’re busy playing Pokemon Go, like usual. She is distracted from her duty of making sure you don’t bump into anything and someone suddenly slams into you, making you drop your phone. 

“Oh my god I’m so sorry, I didn’t even see you.” You said to the stranger you just bumped into.

He picks up your phone for you, he turns it over and you see a big crack down the center of the screen.

“Aw fuck.” You say reaching for your phone out of his hand.

“I’m so sorry darling.” You hear in a heavy, yet gorgeous, British accent. 

You freeze, you know that voice. Is that… it couldn’t be. Could it? 

[aerialsquid]

Title Pending.

Summary: Aizawa and Toshi track down some very unauthorized pornography. Nobody escapes with their dignity intact. 

Notes: Basically I need encouragement to work on this, so I am creating a false sense of urgency by releasing the early parts so I have more encouragement to work on the later parts. I’ll put it over on AO3 with proper reviewing once I’ve finished the full thing. Contains referenced sex acts but no onscreen sex. 

“You wanted to see us both, Principal Nezu?"

"Yes, please come in. And shut the door."

Even at his age, the scenario of a principal requesting you come to his office and then shutting the door, with as serious a face as a small furry mammal could manage, put a shard of fear into Toshi.

Aizawa had careful, expert neutrality in his expression. They'd both gotten a text twenty minutes ago from him, containing a terrifying lack of context besides a request to meet him in his office. Toshi was already mentally tallying up his students' recent performances and wondering where he'd gone wrong in their teaching this time.

Nezu hopped up on his desk and paced back and forth across it, paws behind his back.

"I received a message earlier today by email from an anonymous person. They claimed to have evidence that some of my employees were involved in conduct unbecoming of professional heroes or professional teachers at a prestigious high school, and included several images to support these statements. Now, I want you to know that I trust both of you and have nothing but respect for your professional behavior. What you do in your off hours is your bu--Yagi, if you tug on your hair that hard you're going to pull some of it out."

Toshinori was huddled up with one long set of fingers digging into his scalp, flush reaching his ears in a matter of moments. Meanwhile, Aizawa had gone completely still, like a prey animal.

It made Nezu laugh, which didn't help Yagi's hair pulling.

He kicked the mouse of his computer with one foot, turning the screen on. The screen background was fairly on-brand, a cute doodle of himself sitting on the UA logo. Nezu then navigated to a window displaying several video screenshots.

"Several of these images were in the email. I assume you can see the problem--breathe, Yagi-san, breathe!"

Toshinori only had time to see the images for a brief second before a coughing fit consumed him. It was still far too long. Nezu hopped off the desk and delivered several firm whacks to his lower back (too low to be useful but Nezu's arms were only so long) as he huddled in place.

The screenshots were dim, and apparently taken from hidden cameras in a narrow bedroom, possibly a hotel suite.They showed two people on a bed in several positions--some showed only one person's face clearly and left the other in shadow, but the one in the center was clear enough to make out that it was Aizawa and Toshinori, the latter in his skinny 'true form'.

Naked. And having sex.

Toshi tried to speak through the blood filling his mouth. "Principal Nezu, I assure you… I never meant to disrespect--"

"Yagi, giving yourself a coronary in my office would be much more disrespectful. Aizawa, pour us some tea, will you?" Nezu gestured at the electric kettle in the back of his office. "And take some deep breaths, Yagi. In, out, there you go."

Over the sound of his own pounding heart and with his hand clamped over his face, Toshinori heard Aizawa mumble, "These are fake."  His spirits sank even further.

Yes, of course Aizawa would deny it. Toshinori couldn't fault him for doing so.With his reputation already so shaky after the training camp incident he couldn't risk anything else to bring the school scandal and the revelation that he had been banging the Symbol of Peace on the regular (which he had) would be too much for his career to bear. But with the footage right in front of them, how could Nezu possibly--

"Really? What makes you say that?" Nezu gently rubbed Toshinori's back, almost tittering.

"I have the scar on my face from USJ but not on my elbow. There's no stubble on my face. Besides that, I've never seen this room in my life and Yagi's missing the damage to his left side."

"I am?"

"And how would you know what Yagi looks like naked, Aizawa-sempai?" Nezu chirped. Yagi went into another coughing fit. Aizawa opened his mouth to possibly come up with some excuse about shared locker rooms when Nezu cut him off with a quick 'tkk!' of his tongue.

"I do know you two have been having extracurriculars for the last few months, Aizawa." Nezu tapped his snout. "My nose is as sensitive as it is adorable and I run a school for teenagers. There's quite a lot I'm forced to notice!"

"My apologies," mumbled Toshinori through another mouthful of blood. Nezu's tiny paw patted his shoulder comfortingly, as if the man wasn't four times his size.

"Really, if I made a fuss every time my teachers had a bit of fun together, I'd have no time for anything else. Just don't do it with the students and don't do it on the clock, and you'll find no complaints from me."

Nezu forced some tea down him while Aizawa continued staring intently at the screenshots, fire in his gaze.

"And the Aizawa's wearing a wig in the leftmost scene," he grumbled, scowling at the image of himself straddling Yagi's narrow hips, lips parted in ecstasy. "The face is a perfect imitation but he's wearing a goddamn wig in some of these."

"Having reviewed the full video, I believe it may be one or more people with a shapeshifting quirk," said Nezu. "Not the one who works with the League of Villains, but one less familiar with both of you. They're copying what they've seen of you on TV, which to your great fortune has mainly been with your clothes on. I've heard of this sort of pornography before, I believe they call its fans 'cape-chasers'."

Toshinori gave a shaky nod. "I've dealt with this as All Might. There were...certain fans, who had…"

"People who wanted to watch you fuck."

"Yes, thank you, Aizawa. My lawyers occasionally had to come down on such people, to maintain my brand identity, and with the internet some of them were never found at at all. They just kept making...videos. Of me. Having sex. And putting them on the internet." Yagi shrank into himself, his large bony form folding up like an ironing board."

Aizawa snorted. "One of the perks of being an underground hero is that you never show up in anyone's porn. At least, until now. Why send it to you, Nezu?"

Nezu's whiskers twitched, and his chipper demeanor fizzled away. "Because I'm expected to think it's the real thing. If I was a stupider animal and actually believed this was you, and on top of that actually cared what the lot of you do with your genitals in your free time, I might force you both to resign to avoid scandal."

"So what will you do?"

"What I'm going to do is what I've already done, which is telling the two of you." Nezu reached into his vest pocket and pulled out a USB. "This is the only copy here at the school, I've deleted it from my machine. Beyond this, I wash my paws of it." His cute, shrill voice had a timbre of icy steel. "UA does not bow to villains, whether they're the kind who attack in broad daylight or the kind who hide behind blackmail. The very idea disgusts me. But once our blackmailers figure out you won't be facing consequences, I'm concerned they may want to release the tape into the public."

He extended the USB. "Whatever you want done about this, I relinquish it into your control."

Yagi reached hesitantly for the USB, only for Aizawa to snatch it up first.

"Good luck!" Nezu called after them, back to being his usual perky self. "And remember to do proper breathing!"

[grimelords]

My July playlist is here, just in time for September! Four hours of hits from Lana Del Rey, Iannis Xenakis, KISS, Cameo and everyone in between. Please enjoy.

This Is What Makes Us Girls - Lana Del Rey: This is a really underrated Lana song I think. It's such a beautiful song and it's so heartbreaking the way she sings "they were the only friends I ever had". It's like an origin story for her whole thing detailing how she got bitten by a radioactive pabst, I love it.

Walking Into Sunshine (Larry Levan 12" Mix) - Central Line: A powerful good mood song that quickly takes on a vibe shift near the end when he says I've got to do it now, I've got to walk into the sun' which carries a different meaning than 'walk into the sunshine' to me. Embracing positivity versus self immolation in a nuclear furnace.

Fine di Cobb - Stelvio Cipriani: This is the most jamming harpsichord I think I have ever heard. This is from the soundtrack to an italian cop film called Mark il Poliziotto (Mark The Narc) that I found in a spotify playlist called Best Of Eurocrime that I cannot recommend enough. https://open.spotify.com/user/cinevox/playlist/1o3c0Con0ormlKc9r1gqxgSince 

Last Wednesday - Highasakite: Highasakite might be the worst band name I've ever heard and they're so lucky this song is as good as it is that it cancels that out.

Hilary $wank - Joey Bada$$: I was originally just going to post the instrumental of this because the beat it just so, so good. So busy without being cluttered and nicely melodic without clouding the space for the vocals. I also like this song a lot because just by virtue of being so upbeat it escapes the worst parts of a lot of other Joey Bada$$ 'real hip hop' type songs that are going for a throwback vibe but end up just sounding dated.

Girls - Royal Headache: Girls! Think they're too fine for me! Oh Girls! And I'm inclined to agree!

Something To Tell You - Haim: I'm slowly coming around to Haim's second album and I've finally decided it's good actually. I just hope they do a live album or something soon because their songs are so tightly structured that I think it's almost to their detriment, and every live video I've seen of them they really pull them apart and expand them in a nice organic way that just doesn't come through on the album.

Lavender - BadBadNotGood & Kaytranada: I can't tell whether I like this orginal version or the Nightfall remix with Snoop Dogg better, the verses are just regular Snoop but the vocals they put on the chorus are so good I sort of wish there was a third version that was just them with some other rapper.

New Seeds - Boards Of Canada: Realising that the sound at the start of this is extrapolated from mobile phone interference was a shocking moment for me.

Alligator Engine - Hunters & Collectors: Hunters And Collectors early albums where they sounded like the Talking Heads of the Mad Max universe don't get enough respect because of their huge regular sounding hits a few albums later and it's areal shame because this song is pure primal funk.

Fly Like An Eagle - Seal: This is the song that plays on the little muzak speakers in the cryogenic chamber for the four minutes you're still conscious while your body cools to absolute zero. Then you wake up in 400 years still humming it.

Come To Dust - Boards Of Canada: I was having such a huge moment with this album this month and lamenting the imminent end of our favourite earth The Earth, and this is really such a peaceful sort of resolute song right near the end of the album before the real ending of Semena Mertvykh makes you feel like a body dumped in the desert for scientific research into the nature of decomposition.

Kiss You All Over - Millie Jackson: I'm still not sure how I feel about this new Millie Jackson album that's old multitracks re-mixed by Steve Levine. The whole thing sounds kind of whack. What's good however, is when she adlibs "I wanna bite you on the ankles baby" out of nowhere near the end, and then says "on the ankles.. on the kneecaps.." as the song's fading out.

The Sorcerer - Twain: My girlfriend sent me this song and I have no idea where she found it but I love it. As soon as I heard the opening line I was completely hooked. It's such a beautiful and foreboding song that I really can't get a proper read on, I love it.

Men Today - Health: I'm looking for a chrome extension that makes this song play at maximum volume whenever anyone makes a post containing the phrase 'men today'. Huge wall of noise. Bloodthirsty drums. All the dirt owns us now, what we were ends in the ground.

Where Love Lives - Frankie Knuckles: I'm eagerly awaiting the day coming soon that 90s piano house goes from naff to revered and rockets back up the charts.

Nein König Nein - DJ Koze: This is the B side to Seeing Aliens off of DJ Koze's new album and I really love it, mostly for the groove it get into about halfway through, it reminds me of High Fidelity by Daft Punk where it's just chopped to hell and builds these sort of disparate rhythmic cuts into a really melodic frankenstein.

Blush - Leon Vynehall: I think I found this song and the next one by Spotify Radio off of the DJ Koze song above. I got into a real groove at work one day and these two were the best two to come out of it. The bassline/strings melody that centres this whole song is so good and so circular it could feasibly play for two hours and I wouldn't notice.

Last Land - John Talabot: The way the vocal sample just keeps bleeding into itself is hypnotising here, and it's also maybe the best and most unique kick sound I've heard in a long time.

Suzinak - Ross From Friends: I almost feel bad for Ross From Friends because he's making some really amazing music but he's stuck with this dogshit soundcloud name. The Durutti Column sample that forms the basis of this song is really nicely placed without just feeling like a rip-off, but where this song really shines is in the last minute or so where it magically transitions into a crunching guitar driven thing that sounds like it's playing next door.

Canary Yellow - Deafheaven: The most incredible thing about this album is the sense of optimism that pervades it. This isn't a genre that really lends itself to hope or beauty but somehow Deafheaven have captured it in a way I didn't really think possible. It feels like they've expanded the emotional palette of the whole genre with this album, without sacrificing any of what makes it great.

Strutter - Kiss: I had this song stuck in my head the other day, but I'd remembered it wrong and had it mixed up with the chorus of Lovers And Sinners by Dallas Crane. In my version he's saying 'strutter' the way they say 'lovers'. There's an incredible song in there somewhere, but the original is pretty good too.

Lovers And Sinners - Dallas Crane: See above I guess. It's interesting listening to Dallas Crane now as a new generation is reappraising and being inspired by pub rock all over again and somehow the difference between Dallas Crane and Jet versus Bad//Dreems and Peep Tempel couldn't be more pronounced despite their shared roots. Where the former idolises the glamour of a bygone age of rock and roll the latter are reapprorating it in a more directly emotional, less flashy way.

Evryali - Iannis Xenakis: From what I understand from reading the wiki article on this piece this was generated by doing about five different kinds of extreme nerd graph maths and then turning that into music via more maths and when he finally turned up with the completed score it was so fucking stupid it had notes that don't physically exist on a standard piano in it. Now that's rock and roll. It's hard to make sense of this without the context of its composition because it feels incredibly random, but this performance by Stephnos Thomopoulos really brings meaning to the total chaos of it. I think solo piano is such a good medium for generative-type works like this because it feels like the simplest way to see everything happening without the tonal clutter of synthesised or orchestral sounds muddying the already extremely muddy waters.

Easy Way Out - Money For Rope: I love bands with two drummers and Money For Rope really know how to use two drummers, which is simply use them exactly like you would one drummer but pan them left and right so I can hear when they do different fills at the same time and get a thrill. A really good song about killing yourself when you're old(?)

Sophisticated Lady - Art Tatum: I've been having a big Art Tatum phase recently and it's hard to overstate just how much I believe Art Tatum came from another planet to teach us about the piano. He is really and truly from another dimension. So off the charts insanely good at making a whole universe from a simple tune. It's like every single note gets its own full trip around the block before he moves on.

Stay As Sweet As You Are - Art Tatum: This is an absolute odyssey in five minutes. Without ever losing focus, or losing track of the central theme, it's like he takes it apart piece by piece and reassembles it anew every single bar right before your eyes.

No Line On The Horizon - U2: 2000s U2 gets a bad rap, and it's mostly deserved but there's still some very good stuff in there. This song is so good, and so nicely produced it's a real shame that it opens the album that eventually contains Get On Your Boots.

Tools Down - The Presets: Not only is this song great, but they use the exact same synth sound as the one they used for Madeline's voice in Celeste, which has the nice side effect of making it seem like Madeline is singing along to this great song.

Open Sesame (12" Version) - Kool & The Gang: I've definitely put this on my list before but this is probably the best song ever recorded. It's incredible top to bottom for all 9 minutes and never fails to put me in a great mood.

Peril - Martin O'Donnell: I was thinking about the Halo 2 soundtrack and was shocked to remember correctly that this strange Enya knock-off made it into the highest selling game of 2004.

Drumgasm - Weiss/Cameron/Hill: I cannot belive I haven't heard of this album before now. It's Janet Weiss from Sleater-Kinney, Matt Cameron from Pearl Jam and Zach Hill all playing drums for 40 minutes and it's incredible. I would never have expected Weiss and Cameron to be the sort of drummers to do something like this, but they absolutely nail it. The different styles of the three really meld well and they all seem to lead at different times. This album is the sort of thing that seems like it would be extremely exhausting, and probably would be in most circumstances but somehow they pulled it off. It's engaging and for the most part, driven, purposeful music with direction; which is saying a lot for an album of three drummers just going absolutely hard as motherfuckers for most of an hour.

Apollo - St Paul & The Broken Bones: I love this song but the way he sings the first line makes me laugh because it sounds almost exactly like Drew Tarver's Donny Gary character. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=U9ArjvUUptw and I'm blessed to have this song about reusing mcdonalds cups play in my head every single time I'm in a mcdonalds.

Million Times Alone - Bad//Dreems: This is maybe the best song about working night shift and having depression I've ever heard. The part about sleeping in the day in the bright sun in a boiling hot house is an especially vicious sense memory for me.

Slow Mover - Angie McMahon: My girlfriend showed me this and I absolutely love it. I also feel extremely old because I just googled it and apparently it's an Unearthed song that made the Hottest 100 this year and I didn't even notice. The best approximation I can make of how I feel about this song is the google autocomplete when you google it that goes 'angie mcmagon slow mover meaning?' and the top comment on the Genius page for it that says 'I cried my eyes out when I first heard this song.’

Drop The Bomb (feat. MF DOOM) - YOTA: Youth Of The Apocalypse: This is the new band from the non-Clash guitarist and bassist from Gorillaz, as well as Jamie Reynolds from Klaxons and I'm so glad it exists because the new Gorillaz album was such a snore and this really feels like what it should have been. Somehow it seems Damon Albarn is not the thing that makes Gorillaz great, it's the other guys which is very very strange.

Word Up - Cameo: Mostly thinking about this song because of Carl Tart's extremely good episode of Comedy Bang Bang where he spoke in the cadence of this and the other Cameo song for the whole episode https://www.earwolf.com/episode/word-down/

Lee - Tenacious D: I don't know what's going on but I got into a real Tenacious D thing this month. Thinking deeply about comedy music for some reason. Anyway this song is so much fun and it reminds me of Tony's Theme by Pixies.

Tony's Theme - Pixies: I love the idea of writing a nonsense song about your friend Tony, who you love, to put right in the middle of your otherwise pretty serious alt rock album. If you know any other songs in the genre of Lee and Tony's Theme please reply and tell me them because I think it's really funny genre.

Burning Down The House - Tom Jones & The Cardigans: I woke up one morning with the sound of Tom Jones singing 'strange but not a stranger' in my head and it took me so much googling to find out it was this version of Burning Down The House that I was thinking of, without having heard it in probably ten years. I like that this song is ostensibly a duet but Nina Persson has such a thin voice and Tom Jones is the most powerful man to have ever lived that she's sort of just automatically relegated to backing vocals by default.

Horseshoe Crabs - Hop Along: I heard about this from the Jason Mantzoukas What's In My Bag video https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ecfWVhz-wyc. I cannot believe how her voice sounds, it's just incredible. The way she sings "baby's heading home" at the start shocked me, it sounds like recordings of three different people cut together. It's just amazing. I already loved this song a lot and then when I looked into it I found out it's about Jackson C. Frank and it made me cry.

Long Wat - Khun Narin: This is another one I got from the Jason Mantzoukas What's In My Bag video, it's a Thai pschedelic street band and it's quite simply the jam of a lifetime.

listen here

[elwheeler011]

Help a sista out pls?

(Super long post but would really appreciate any help!) @ all my gal pals..... This is totally tmi but I literally don't have anywhere else to ask this and really need some advice. Uhhh. So I haven't gotten my period in months. I am most definitely certainly without a doubt NOT pregnant, I'm a virgin lol. That would literally have to be the Immaculate Conception. Anyway. I think the last time I got a legit full period was mid August. I had very very light spotting in September for like a couple days, but not an actual period. My periods are fairly light to begin with and only last like 3 days, but this was super light even for me. It wasn't even blood just like dark brownish discharge. But ya. So then, I had nothing for the next two months then finally the very last week of November I got an actual full period. Nothing for December and nothing for January, and it's now February. I don't have any known health issues. I do have multiple mental illnesses though (including bipolar) and I know that can totally throw it out of whack. In the past, I have had my period delayed when I've been severely depressed. But thing is..... I'm actually not (currently) depressed?? Since the summer, I've actually been doing better mentally/emotionally than I have in a VERY long time! Which is awesome. I finally have some stability. So you'd think my period would be normal.

I have though gained nearly 40 pounds in the past almost two years. I was naturally very underweight to begin with though. I also was on adhd stimulants for 10 years, since age 7 and those heavily affect appetite/trouble gaining weight. I started gaining weight when I was taken off of them. Which was good because then I got up to a healthy "normal" weight. Now though I've gained even more weight and am slowly verging the 'overweight' territory for my height...... That's a whole other story but yeah. And again, I know being underweight or losing weight can also affect your period, but not so much gaining weight, I don't think?

The last time I went to the doctor just for a regular checkup was June 2016. I still see a pediatrician. I just turned 19. I know I probably should soon start seeing a general practitioner or obgyn. I'm not sexually active though at all so don't necessarily have a dire need to start seeing a gynecologist just yet. I know I probably should see a doctor about my absent periods, just to be safe and make sure nothing's wrong. The thing is though I'm absolutely terrified of going to the doctor, it's a huge anxiety trigger for me. Even just the regular pediatrician. But even worse I am completely TERRIFIED to start seeing a gynecologist. I have severe ocd and part of it has to do with bodily functions/nudity etc. (That's why when I take baths for relaxation I wear a bathing suit lmao). The thought of having someone look at and touch and examine my privates is just completely unfathomable to me and I get sick and extremely anxious just thinking about it. I can't go to a gynecologist because of that. At the same time though, I know I should go just to see if there's anything wrong. I'm so fucking scared though.

So if you've read this whole thing, seriously thank you. Any advice or suggestions or has anyone experienced this (whether it be prolonged absence of periods or fear/discomfort of going to the 'lady doctor')? Any input would be greatly appreciated!!! ❤️

[thisislizheather]

Navigating November 2020

Wonderful, another month has come and gone. It’s hard to tell when I’m in a bad mood these days. I feel like all of my moods are sprinkled with bits of sadness since it’s been such a rough year on everyone. It seems hard to be hopeful and optimistic for the coming months because of everything that has gone on already, but I think I’ll continue on with my internal mantra of “fake it ‘til you make it” - that’s healthy, right? In any case, here’s what happened last month:

I usually don’t mention the things that I don’t do, but this one is notable: I didn’t have the Thanksgiving croissant from Milk Bar this year (because I’m in Canada at the moment). So this is really just a reminder to myself to go hog-wild on them next November.

I can’t remember if I’ve mentioned them before, but the ready-made roast beef sandwiches at San Remo’s in Etobicoke? A PERFECT SANDWICH.

I rewatched the original (better) Jumanji and goddamit what a great movie. How did I forget what a perfect movie that was? Miss Robin Williams so much. Which reminds me: I gotta rewatch Jack soon (Coppola’s greatest movie, in my humble opinion). Haven’t seen that one in ages.

Some thoughts on how to have a less expensive Christmas.

Love the new “Oat Milk Latte” nail polish colour at Urban Outfitters. Something about a boring neutral has been really turning me on lately.

The best new hand lotion I’ve used in a long time: this Kiehl’s Hand Salve. I put it on once in the morning and once before bed and it’s crazy how soft it makes them, even if you wash your hands numerous times a day (which, god, I hope you’re doing).

I know that I tend to live in the past at times, but are you ever needing to print some photos fast and don’t know where to get it done? Years ago, they had machines at Shoppers and then they disappeared. And I just discovered that Staples has those print-right-now machines! It takes seconds to print from your phone and it’s crazy cheap. I think you can only get 4 x 6 in size, but still. That’s great!

I’ll always love Cobs Bread (thanks to Marla years ago for introducing me) but I just tried their garlic focaccia and my god. Heavenly. It also makes a great base for any kind of at-home grilled cheese or even an at-home garlic bread using garlic butter.

So I tried the Popeye’s chicken sandwich that people were stabbing each other for and… I fully understand the murdering mentality. It’s an incredible chicken sandwich. I was expecting not to understand the hype, but here I stand before you, four chicken sandwiches deep.

I’ve been consistently using the Luna Night Oil from Sunday Riley (a small version that came with a gift set) and I think it’s really working well. My skin looks amazing in the morning after each use. So I might bite the bullet and buy the full size when I run out.

Just so sad to see Alex Trebek pass away. Favourite clip, followed by second favourite clip.

I simply cannot stop ordering the vegetable fried rice from Fortune Dragon in Mississauga. Can’t and WON’T.

I had such a terrible experience using Skip The Dishes the other night (there was a problem with an order and the restaurant refused to fix the problem and I was on the phone with STD (hahah, can we all call them this from now on PLEASE) for over an hour, just disgusting). So now they’re banned in our house.

And speaking of annoying food experiences, Scaddabush got rid of the best sandwich on their menu. What. the. hell. It was a prosciutto cotto grilled cheese with Italian cured ham, caramelized onions, mozzarella, and fig jam on a focaccia bun and IT IS NO MORE. I did attempt to make it at home one night and it was actually really good, but still. Who wants to spend their evenings caramelizing onions for hours in the kitchen? Well, I do, for one. But regardless! Bad move, Scaddabush.

I came across these actually helpful, fast TikTok beauty tips.

Excited to visit this new food hall in Long Island City one day.

Love these two new Tierra Whack songs.

I love hearing these kinds of butterfly effect stories, always.

This whole listicle made me laugh.

How on earth can someone build a roller coaster in their backyard? People continue to impress me. This is amazing.

It’s pure and complete trash that chihuahuas never win dog shows. 

Look at this beauty from The National Dog Show.

Considering this beautiful palette for purchase even though I have plans to go nowhere, every night, for the rest of time.

I made these fondant potatoes and they were good! Love a new way to cook a potato.

I watched Coneheads for the first time and it was a surprisingly fun movie. It also happens to be the ultimate pro-immigration movie. Loved it.

I watched the Fresh Prince reunion and it was good! It was nice to see Nicky.

If you’re looking for a dog groomer in Mississauga, I can’t say enough good things about You Lucky Dog Grooming. They cut Baby Dog’s nails perfectly for $10 and it took less than five minutes. They were so gentle and caring, definitely only gonna go here from now on.

There were a few massive holes in the ceiling in my parents basement (an estimate said it would be $1000 to fix) so I went to Home Depot, got the supplies and did it myself. This is something I would never even want to do, let alone actually do, so the fact that it’s fixed now is insane. Here's what it looked like.

Above Photo: This whole job cost $17 from Home Depot. Nothing is impossible.

I made my niece Layla watch Sleeping With The Enemy and The Curious Case of Benjamin Button for the first time and I think she liked both, which obviously I love. Love making people I love watch things I love.

Absolutely in love with this song. And this one, too.

So I got fake nails. Here they are.

Yes, I love them. Yes, they look perfect every single day and that’s amazing. But no one tells you the cons, so let me tell you what they are.

Pressing buttons is an annoyance. The buttons of debit machines especially (I’ve incorrectly put in my pin about three times so far), but also remote controls and car radio dials.

Peeling onions or garlic. Or cutting anything on a cutting board in the kitchen, basically.

You know after a shower when you towel off the wet parts of the inside of your ears? Can’t be done.

All zippers and buttons add at least five minutes to your life.

Look, I’m not an animal but sometimes your nose needs a little cleaning when a tissue ain’t gonna cut it. That being said, it is IMPOSSIBLE to pick your nose with these.

Typing at your regular speed.

Peeling clementines is simply out of the question (which is annoying because they’re so in season right now).

Putting on and taking off necklaces.

And most of all, yes you can still scratch parts of your body, but it’s an unfulfilling scratch. These nails aren’t as sharp as my real ones, so the scratch is lackluster.

That being said, I do love them. I’m not sure if I’ll get them again, but they’re beautiful and I can definitely see the appeal.

I watched a few episodes of Somebody Feed Phil with my brother Robbie and it’s a pretty cute show. I only watched the New York, New Orleans, Venice & San Francisco episodes, but I’m sure I’ll watch the rest soon. I think I liked it because the host really lets the guests be the charming, endearing ones, and most TV hosts aren’t very good at that.

So since we missed both Thanksgivings this year, we picked a random day to do our turkey dinner and this year I did the rub for the bird (Mom handled all the gross stuff) and it came out amazing! Also made my favourite salad dressing (love a shallot in a dressing), this perfect cranberry sauce and best garlic bread. And instead of a whole pie, we just got mini pumpkin tarts from Whole Foods. The next day, I finally made the moist maker sandwich (from Friends) and it turned out really well.

Best tweets of the month can be found over here.

Some things that I’m looking forward to this month: watching the new season of Big Mouth, doing the Polar Drive experience, there have been only two snowstorms so far and I can’t wait for more to come, and I’ve already started baking the chocolate chip Nutella cookies that I love to make this time of year but I want to try something new as well so I’m thinking about giving these ones a try. Christmas will of course be different this year, it’s looking like it’ll be me, my parents (since I’ve been staying here since October), Nathan & Baby Dog on Christmas morning, which actually seems like it might be kind of intimate and nice. It’ll feel wrong in certain ways because I love having my entire family here, but I’m going to try and make the most of it.

If you’ve got any interest in reading last month’s roundup, you can see what went down in October over here.

[self-acclaimed-fangirl]

January 2, 2018

A Quick Update:

So I’ve only recently been active on Tumblr for a few months after a year or two, aside from a few stray posts every once and awhile when I would log on out of extreme boredom, or the occasional cry for help when my depression got bad and I had nowhere else to vent. So here’s a quick update of my life in the last year. 

Probably the biggest news is that I dropped out of college. For those that don’t know or don’t remember, I was attending Millikin University pursuing a degree in music. I just did not excel and my depression kept getting worse and worse. It was to the point I was having several anxiety attacks a day and was rarely - if ever - showing up to class. I guess you could say I flunked out of school, despite it almost being a mutual farewell... though if my family were ever to ask, I definitely dropped. 

During my last semester, I was enrolled in a bariatric surgery program (aka weight loss surgery). I’m at my highest weight right now. Which I’ll get into later. At the time my mental health was too terrible to continue, so I was in therapy. During therapy, my mother had an absolutely terrible time with the workers in the program and so we both decided to drop it. We’ve been in pursuit of a different one, but being in such a rural part of the state, there aren’t many options nearby.

After I left college, I was hired on full-time as a shift manager at Sbarro. I learned a lot there. I feel like I grew as a person and I’m thankful for that insite to real, everyday life. Not that I haven’t had jobs before, but they were always just part time, during the summer jobs for some spending money. I had a lot of issues there with higher management. I and my family both feel I experienced a sort of emotional abuse there. It was almost like I was a kid on a playground again. Suffice to say, I completed a full year there as of December 5, 2017, and am no longer employed there. 

I adopted a cat!! Well.. sort of. Last April a stray cat showed up around the yard and he just sort of chose the family. My grandma and mother don’t want another indoor cat, so we made him a home on our front porch with a heated cat house, plastic to block the wind and keep the cold out (it comes down during the winter so he doesn’t get hot), and plenty of water, food, and loves. He is a orange tabby that I named Butters (Mr. Butters, Bubs, Bubbers, etc.). His story is strange, we have no idea where he came from. Originally we thought he was a female because he didn’t have balls (lol I’m sorry to be so blunt), but when we took him to be spayed, they told us they couldn’t spay her because she was a boy that was ALREADY neutered!! I love my Butters. 

I’ve fallen for so many people... which is hilarious and strange because I don’t fall for people easily. I mean, like... it’s really hard, almost. I find that I have to have a lot in common with the person and really really enjoy their company and conversation. Three boys and one girl have broken my heart to pieces. I don’t want to specifically name names but... Richard you’re a tremendous cunt and the boy scouts would be much better off if you had never been a part of them. And Nick... we  bonded over love of Marianas Trench. The band that absolutely is the soundtrack to my heart. I let you in and you deceived me. You can kindly kiss the fattest part of my ass. As far as the other two, you broke my heart but there really wasn’t anything that could be done about it, as it was out of both of our hands. Best wishes to you.

Concerning my weight... some of you may know that I have PCOS (Polycystic Ovarian Syndrome). If you’re not familiar with this it’s basically like my ovaries are at war. With what I’m not sure to describe... each other maybe?? My body is more likely. In short, I produce too much testosterone, my ovaries (may or may not) have cysts on them at any given time, my period is out of whack (to be accurate I haven’t had a natural period since I was probably 13, all other periods since then have been induced from medicine), I have extreme trouble loosing weight, ect. If you’re that interested you can look it up. But this chronic disease makes my life a living hell and I’m very displeased to have it. Honestly I just want to be a regular woman. I’m extremely overweight and obese at the moment. Other than this my health is good, but things have to change. I’m considering taking up the keto diet, which a lot of cycters  (PCOS diagnosed nickname) have. I suppose we shall see. 

We almost moved back to North Carolina this summer. There was a perfect little house not far from our beloved island that we even had pending on purchase. But my grandmother decided not to go along with it. Which broke my heart because I absolutely loved the place. The backyard looked out on Slew Point Road that my Pap-Pap (Great-Grandpa) grew up on. It was in a beautiful neighborhood and was in just such a perfect place... I fear that I’ll never end up leaving Illinois. Though, I do have many fears about actually leaving. I fear leaving all my friends behind. As a little kid I always fantasized about our children being friends and growing up together. Though, since most of my friends and old classmates have already begun to have children, and I’m not even looking at being in a serious relationship anytime soon, I doubt that will happen. If I ever end up having a child it will probably be 10(+) years. 

I’ve attended a great deal of concerts... From 5 Seconds of Summer (I might have still been on Tumblr regularly when that one happened), to seeing my favorite island man, Jimmy Buffett (TWICE!!), childhood favorite, Alan Jackson, My heart, Marianas Trench, A rained out Panic! At the Disco/Weezer concert (That one was terrible, we stood in the rain for 3 + hours just for them to end up canceling the concert on us at the end of the third hour), to a kick ass Foo Fighters concert this past November and finally getting to see ED SHEERAN in concert!!!! ... I’d have to say my list of live music events is something I could pretty much die happy with right now. 

Well, I’m sure there’s plenty more I could elaborate on and inform you of, But I’ve been typing for like 40 minutes so I’m just going to leave this as my update. I may potentially write more updates in the future. We’ll see. 

Have a wonderful day/night wherever you are! <3

[artificialqueens]

Say You Won’t Let Go Part 4 (Biadore) - Fucking Awful

A/N: As promised, a faster update!

For those joining this party now – here’s the link to the first installments:

Part 1 // Part 2 // Part 3

Here we pick up in Summer 2015, 3 months after Part 3. **UPFRONT STYLE WARNING** There is a lot of exposition in the beginning, and one totally convenient moment of flashback. They help explain what’s happening here without dragging the story on forever, so #sorrynotsorry

Oh, and as a reminder, the song: Say You Won’t Let Go

I knew I needed you But I never showed But I wanna stay with you until we’re grey and old

Spring 2015.  At first, after what Danny would mentally refer to as “The Florida Fuck-Up,” it was awkward. So awkward. Danny was trying to act normal, like nothing ever happened, but Roy was clearly putting distance between them. It may have looked like everything was okay to the casual observer, but Danny sensed the shift.  

Still, he tried to rationalize it. Sure, Roy didn’t really talk to him the next day at the Orlando show – but obviously he was just exhausted. And it was totally natural that, at his last BOTS show the next night, Roy avoided Danny completely and got ready in a separate dressing room; he probably just wanted to spend the last day getting ready with Michelle. And it only immediately pulled out of a few international dates with Danny and Shane right after – because he was out preparing and kicking off the tour for Rolodex of Hate.

Yup, all of that was totally normal.

Danny resolved that if Roy was going to avoid him, he would avoid Roy. So, he threw himself into a hurricane of work and travel. Danny was going to occupy as much of his own time as the universe would allow – at least for as long as it took to get over whatever the fuck he was feeling, and for Roy to get back to normal.

Luckily it was a very eventful period in his life. Danny started working on his next album, played live music shows across the country, toured for Drag Race around the globe, made new friends with all the Ru girls, shot music videos he was artistically proud of…he even started dating someone new, but more on that later.

Of course, it wasn’t all good – life’s never that easy. In the aftermath of his father’s death, Danny’s own health got a little out of whack from not sleeping. He didn’t want to think to hard about what was keeping him up at night; Danny knew from a few tries at therapy that his relationship with his dad was better left unexamined. The tours were great to distract him, but the pressure to always be “on,” the grueling schedule, and the constant berating from Michelle – and vicious non-fan girls – wore him down. Danny could familiar feelings of depression creeping through his insomnia.

But when things went south, as if like magic, Roy came back. After a month or so of silence, Roy started writing him every single day. The medium would change – Tweets, texts, emails – but it was constant. Didn’t matter if Danny replied or not, Roy worked his way back to being a constant in his life. And all as if everything was cool and casual.

It took Danny some time to get used to that. Their first real conversation was that June, just before Roy’s birthday. He invited Danny on a group trip to Mexico, a vacation to celebrate his 40th birthday. As badly as he wanted to go – to celebrate with Roy, to hug him for the first time in months, to see his half-naked tanned body sparkling in the ocean – he ultimately said no. Alcohol and hotel rooms seemed to spell trouble for the two of them, and Danny couldn’t trust his own limited sense of self control; if he went, there was a 99.9% chance he’d end up pinning Roy against a wall and embarrassing himself yet again.

So instead Danny sent a gift, and a stupid funny card with a made up excuse about recording dates he couldn’t miss. Roy sent him a string of texts that alternated between Bianca angry and legitimately angry – more of the latter when he realized Danny lied. He must have forgiven him quickly, though, because just on the 4th of July Danny got a surprise in the mail.

–

July 2015. For the first time he could remember, there was a package waiting on his front porch on a sunny Saturday. It was a small box – bright red paper, obnoxious bow twice the size of the box itself. Inside a key – not a regular brass or silver one, but one of those ridiculous things with custom images printed on it. This one had Pennywise the Clown stamped all over it. Underneath, there was a note:

If you’d bothered to come to Mexico instead of being a lying piece of shit, you would’ve heard this in person – I’m getting a place in LA, and planning to be there at the end of July and most of August. Housewarming on July 24th. Be there or you’re dead to me, cunt. Address on the back. Love you, pussyfart. 

Danny was thrilled. This was a clear gesture of forgiveness for his admittedly childish behavior – not just for the birthday, but for all of it – and he wasn’t going to wuss out on finally seeing Roy face-to-face. He grabbed his phone and fired off a text.

Danny: Just got your special delivery – admittedly not the kind of package I was hoping to get today, but it’ll do. Wouldn’t miss it for the world, see you in a couple of weeks. Miss you xx

His fingers typed too fast to double check what he wrote. Reading it back, he wondered if the dick joke and the extra “miss you” were mistakes. But his phone pinged before he could think too long about it.

Roy: WOW, I KNEW YOU WERE A LAZY QUEEN BUT I DIDN’T REALIZE YOU WANTED DICK DELIVERED TO YOUR DOORSTEP. MENTAL NOTE FOR YOUR BIRTHDAY. DICKMATES.

As usual Roy wrote it off as a joke. That suited Danny – better a joke than have to unpack any of what was really going on.

But then, another ping.

Roy: CAN’T WAIT TO SEE YOU. MISS YOU MORE. XX

–

When the party finally rolled around, Danny made sure to come with a crowd. He needed back up if he was going to go in live. Rather than risk being alone with Roy – that was a normal thing for best friends to avoid, right? – Danny made sure to link up with Shane, Justin and Willam for comfort. 

“I can’t believe we finally converted that bitch into an LA queen,” shouted Willam from Courtney’s bathroom. He had just finished de-dragging from a Paint Me Bitch, and was checking for last hints of makeup.

“He hasn’t committed to moving here yet. He just got a place out here.” Courtney responded from the kitchen, pouring a final round of Fireball shots before calling the Uber to leave.

“A spot in New York and one in LA? Please, that $100,000 is gonna run out real soon. 2 months and he’ll be LA only, for sure.” Willam paused to rinse his face. “I’m surprised it even took this long, considering how many time I told him he never would. You know he can’t back away from a challenge – first going on Drag Race at all, then moving to LA. Lord knows fish lips can’t turn down a shot.”

Meanwhile, Justin sat with Danny on the couch as they both scrolled through their phones. Danny could see that the party had already started – Detox and Raja were already sending snaps of Roy’s ridiculously nice apartment and the many beautiful men who had shown up to celebrate it. Danny felt a pang in his chest scrolling through pictures of Roy hugging strangers under the kind of romantic lights he’d strung up on his patio.

Who can afford a private deck  in WeHo?, Danny wondered. He was trying to cover a pang that felt a lot like jealousy.

He snapped out of it when Willam walked out of the bathroom and said, “I’m serious, you could probably get him to suck your dick just by telling him you bet he wouldn’t do it.”

Both Shane and Justin ever so briefly but so obviously stopped what they were doing and glanced at Danny. He tried to ignore the comment and the looks, but Danny could feel his face go beet red in response.

“What the fuck?” Danny had hoped he missed it, but clearly Willam caught their split second looks and his lingering flush. “I ain’t stupid or hallucinating, can someone please tell me what just happened?”

A couple beats of silence. Danny prayed they would just stay quiet; Willam wasn’t known for patience, and he’d likely change the subject if no one took the bait for a good 30 seconds. He managed to lock eyes with Justin and send that psychic message, but unfortunately it was too late to reach Shane.

“Danny doesn’t want to talk about it!”

Fuck that fucking koala twink, I swear to God I’ll flush him backwards down the toilet, Danny thought to himself.

“Goddammit Shane, can you not keep your mouth shut!” Before Danny could react, Justin was laughing in feigned anger and threw a pillow at the blonde bartender. “Seriously, you are un-fucking-believable sometimes!”

“Hey, watch it!” Shane had successfully ducked the pillow, and now chucked it back at Justin. “You almost made me spill perfectly good Fireball. Some of us can’t show up to this party sober, especially if we have to hide long-suffering crushes on our host.” Shane threw the back of his hand across his forehead at the last sentence, laying on the drama for comedic effect.

Shane and Justin both seemed to find this situation just sooo funny. Danny, on the other hand, was NOT amused. He shot is Doc Marten-clad right foot across the couch, kicking Justin right in the shin with all the strength he could muster. Clearly that had been a lot, from the way he yelped in response.

“What the hell, Lask? Did you tell Shane what I told…well I mean what I kind of told…what we talked about on tour?” Danny had made a conscious effort not to reveal anything about his crush to Shane, feeling it would be totally unfair to but the C in the middle of A and B. Justin, his mom and Chris were the only ones who he’d even sort of talked to about Roy, and he felt betrayed that his road homie Alaska would sell him out.

“Oh relax, Danny. I’m blonde, not blind. You love Roy.” Shane grabbed an ice pack out of the freezer and brought it over to Justin, who was rocking his leg back and forth. Danny was about to object, but Shane steamrolled on. “You looooove him. Who do you think tipped Justin off? We all saw how broody you were on BOTS, practically dying of unrequited love. You had to talk to someone if you wouldn’t talk to me, and figured Justin was as good as anybody.”

Justin spoke through gritted teeth. “It’s not like Shane really had to tell any of us in the first place. Watching you two I was surprised you didn’t fuck like rabbits right there on the tour bus floor. Every conversation you felt like it came out of either a romantic comedy or the first 2 minutes of some really bad porn.” Justin was rolling his eyes at the memory.  

Shit, thought Danny. So much for being subtle.

“Alright fuckers, once more for those of us who weren’t on your little tour. What is happening here?” Willam scanned the room, determined to get an answer.  

Shane started. “So Danny has a thing for Roy.”

“Duh, I’m not a dumbass. I already knew that. Everybody knows that.” Willam rolled his eyes, clearly unimpressed by the information.

“What?” The flush was deepening on Danny’s cheeks, making a permanent home there.

“Don’t you read Reddit?” Willam looked at Danny and raised an eyebrow. “Besides, who doesn’t want to fuck him and see if those tired ass ‘big dick and no credit’ jokes are true? Shit, I’ve seen the print in the sweatpants. Everyone going to this party would probably like to take a crack at that.”

“I, uh, think it’s a little more complicated than that. Danny is – “

Justin kept talking, but Danny stopped listening. It was like an out of body experience, astral projection brought on by total mortification.

He could not believe this was really happening. Now all the AAA Girls – God, he hated that stupid name right now – knew the T about his feelings for Roy. Feelings that should be irrelevant, because Danny had a boyfriend now, but that certainly were about to get real relevant, real quickly.

Between Courtney’s well-intentioned blabber mouth, Justin’s inability to lie convincingly, and the notoriously gossipy Willam, there was no way this was going to stay under wraps. Especially not with booze around. Danny was convinced that within the next few hours Roy would know he was in love with him and the whole thing would really crumble. It wouldn’t matter that he’d finally figured out how to move on and just push down his feelings, or that he was making all the effort to be normal with Roy. Danny was only 2 shots of that sugary shitty whiskey in, but he could feel his head getting woozy from the combination of fear, alcohol, and embarrassment.

His reeling mind was interrupted by Shane, who threw an arm around him and squeezed tight. “Danny, babe. Don’t worry about it. Everything is fine. I’m sorry I said anything at all. Your relationship with Roy is your business, nothing to make light of or talk about – unless you want to. Do you want to?”

“Abso-fucking-lutely NOT.” Danny managed to spit out, the laying on a thick layer of resolution to mask the fact that he did want to talk about it. Desperately, in fact. Just not right now. “Besides, I have –“

“Jesus, Court. Of course he doesn’t want to talk about it..” Willam reached across the counter and swatted at the back of Shane’s head. He was not the one Danny expected would come to his rescue in this scenario, but life is full of surprises.

Willam continued. “Come on, if he really is all hung up on Hung-lock then why the fuck would he want to talk about it before we go to his party? And, if I’m not mistaken, Danny has a perfectly hot piece of ass to keep him happy anyway. Who needs to talk about an old crush when you’ve got a boyfriend to suck your dick at night, am I right?”

“Ok, well –“

“Ok, well nothing.” Willam cut Shane off before he could even get out a third word. “Let’s take these shots – Redbull for you, Betty Ford –” he gestured to Justin, “and get our asses to this party. We gotta make it there before Jackie leaves for the Early Bird special.”

Shane passed out the shots, while Willam walked behind him topping off the glasses until they nearly overflowed. Justin cracked open his energy drink and they all took deep swigs. Danny could feel the alcohol running through his system almost immediately – he’d barely eaten that day – and was happy that it was finally starting to have the desired calming effect rather than fueling his worries.

“Good work ladies, warm up your throats for the rest of the night.” Willam wasted no time. “Shane, is the Uber here yet?”

“Yup, he’s pulling up now. Grab the stuff we’re taking over there and meet me downstairs, this driver looks cute and I need five minutes to figure out if he’s gay.” Shane grabbed his keys and bolted out the door. His voice descended down the stairs as he called out, “Don’t forget to lock up behind us!”

“Hold up, I already called dibs on any Uber drivers. Do you not understand the concept of ‘Shotgun’ wherever you’re from?” Justin followed Shane, whining as they walked down the stairs.

“Those fuckers are just trying to get out of carrying this” – Willam gestured to the handles of alcohol they were bringing, and several bags of Roy’s stuff he’d left at all their individual apartments over the last 2 years – “down to the car.”

“Doubt it. Never underestimate the dick-pigging of Courtney Act.” Danny retorted.

“Whatever, as long as she wears protection or you drive her to the clinic. You take those, I’ve got the booze and the door.”

Danny picked up the bags and headed for the open door. But before he could cross the threshold, Willam stepped in and blocked it.

“Look, kid, I know we don’t know each other that well yet. But I swear I won’t say a word about this to Roy or anyone else. Swear on my Dolce, on my IMDb page, on Warner – I ain’t saying shit to nobody.” He cracked a smile, a surprisingly warm gesture based on what Danny knew of Willam so far..

“But, if you ever do want to talk about it with someone who will be real about it and not coddle you…that’s what Justin’s for. He’s the Miranda, I’m Samantha.” He stepped out of the doorway and let Danny through.

Danny walked out, calling over his shoulder, “That’s from like Gossip Girl or something, right?” He galloped carefully down the stairs, laughing while Willam ranted angrily behind him.

“I’ll fucking kill you, you Goddamn fetus!”

–

Danny guessed he had been at the party for 2 hours. Time had never been a strong point of his, so he couldn’t be sure, but based on how hard the new shots of (real) whiskey and series of (strong) tokes he’d taken from a few strangers when he first walked in, he figured it must be about 2 hours.

He’d seen Roy for thirty whole seconds in that entire span, just for a quick hug and cheek kiss when he walked through the door with the AAA girls. Roy made a lame joke about no one ever need a 4th A before flitting off to greet more guests.

No matter, Danny didn’t read anything into it. He couldn’t if he wanted to – see: the liquor and weed. He quickly found himself, Jack & Coke in hand, comfortably lounging in a laid out chair on Roy’s fairy light-littered patio. He was there shooting the shit with Detox, Raja, Justin, Sam (the Uber drive that Shane had talked into joining the party), and some guy named John who was clearly D’s trade for the evening. Willam and Shane were off singing karaoke and trying to pretend – not very well, in Danny’s opinion – that they weren’t fucking each other.

“Danny, babe, how’s the music coming?” Raja was packing a bowl so that he could properly smoke.

He closed his eyes and let out a little hum. “Right, I haven’t seen you in a few months have I? Um, it’s going really well. I like the direction these producers are letting me take it, I’m just finalizing some of the first few tracks now.” Raja had put him in his happy place, talking about his work.

“That’s great, brujita. You’re gonna make something really, really great. I know it.” Raja lit the pipe and took a drag, giving Detox a chance to chime in.

“So what’s your vibe on this one? Are you gonna keep up the party thing, or –“

Danny could talk about his music forever. “Nah, not really. I mean, I still want to keep some of that stuff in there, because I know people love it and I know I can do it, but this whole thing is about range for me.” He took the pipe from Raja for a quick hit before continuing.

“They’re letting me write pretty much everything, which is so fucking rad. I’ve got the upbeat tracks in production, and I’m writing some, like, real sexy stuff right now. What I need is something really dark, something kind of angsty. Like painful, grunge-y stuff – very that.” Danny paused for a beat, reflecting on his own writer’s block.

“But I’m having trouble getting that to come out as easy. It’s like I have this – “ Danny raised his hands around his head “ – brain block. I can’t get anything out that feels real. Like, real real. Not fake sad stuff.”

Another pause to shake his head, and run his fingers through his hair – one of his many nervous tells. “But I think I really need that, you know? Something that really chokes your soul. I want to make this some career defining, Nevermind type shit with this album.”

Satisfied he’s gotten his point across, Danny took the pipe back for a third hit in as many minutes. He let his words settle across the group until he heard it.

“Um, what’s Nevermind?” It was that twinky little John kid, looking around the group for any kind of clue as to what Danny was talking about. Raja and Sam laughed, Detox looked mortified, and Danny was ready to pounce. How the fuck could a grown adult not know about Nirvana?

Justin jumped in before Danny could launch into a tirade on Kurt Cobain. “Uh, D, I think you should take the zygote home before Danny goes full Courtney Love or lectures us on the significance of flannel.”

Detox hopped up and grabbed John by the hand, escorting him away from the circle before Danny could formulate his thoughts into a coherent history lesson.

“Anyway…” Sober Justin had a knack for steering conversations for his less than sober friends. “You shouldn’t push yourself to write anything you don’t feel. Just let it flow.” He reached over and squeezed Danny’s hand. 

“I mean, it must be hard to to write something sad when your life is going so great, right?!” For the first time since they’d gotten out of the car, Danny heard Sam speak.

On their drive over, he’d made it very clear that he was a huge Drag Race fan – huge enough not to charge them – and spent the 30 traffic-heavy, car-bound minutes talking about how much he loved each of them and his theories on the show. It was a combination of the free ride, full-out nerd-fest – bordering somewhere between endearing and terrifying – and the fact that you could see his abs through his t-shirt and the cardigan on top of it that made Justin invite him to join the party. The guy had just been following him around all night, staring in awe at him – the Alaska effect, Danny called it. He had honestly forgotten that Sam could even speak.

“What are you talking about? You don’t know me like that.” Danny was confused, and his confusion often manifested itself as defensive. 

“I – um,” Sam was visibly a little bit shooketh. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to sound like I was…I just mean, it must be hard to write something sad when you’re on top of the world! Like, your last album did so well, you have all these fans…” The poor kid was clearly freaking out, and he just kept getting more animated in his adoration for Adore as he went on.

“Your music videos are sickening, and like everyone around the world wants you to come play in these huge cities, and you’re working on a new album…and on top of that, you have an incredibly hot boyfriend! Like, seriously, you have the best life ever.”

Oh right, my boyfriend. Danny hadn’t thought about Joshua all night, maybe even all day. Certainly not since the earlier conversation about Roy.

Truth be told, Joshua was a boyfriend that basically fell into Danny’s lap at the right place and time…

*Flashback – early April  2015.  It was a couple of weeks after the tour ended, when he was still trying every possible thing to get his mind off what happened with both his family and with Roy. A tall, handsome, dark-skinned stranger approached Danny in a Starbucks. He was shocked at first, surprised that someone would have the balls to hit on a stranger in broad daylight in the world of Grindr and DMs…until Joshua explained that he was looking for the laptop charger he’d left plugged in at the table Danny was now occupying. He collected his belongings and left. Danny looked on in total mortification, until Joshua turned around seconds later to properly introduce himself and ask for his number.

Joshua was a PhD candidate, working on his Doctorate in Social Work, who spent a lot of time writing his thesis in that Starbucks. He and Danny both loved video games, the old Batman movies, and tattoo artistry. Their first official date rolled from meeting back at the Starbucks, to roaming The Last Bookstore, to dinner at In-N-Out, to sneaking into the Cinespia showing of Heathers. It ended with a passionate make-out in front of Danny’s apartment, and by their third date they were fucking in between viewings of cult classics and class or the studio.

*Present/Back at Roy’s party. From that first meeting, it was all downhill. It helped that Joshua was buried in his own work the same way Danny as buried in his. He never made Danny feel guilty for long days of recording or late night gigs, because at the same time he was in TA-ing or volunteering or working on his research. The complementary schedules and the complementary interests made it all so…easy.

But easy was getting boring, at least to Danny. They were both so busy that they were seeing each other less and less, and when they did it was just old habits and repeated conversations that didn’t require much effort. In the last few weeks he realized how much he cared for Joshua, but also that he needed more. More spark, more touch, more affection, more fire. He figured Joshua must feel the same way, but be too shy to bring it up. And so Danny had made a concerted effort to get what he wanted.

This week, Joshua was in Mexico with his PhD friends, shoulders deep in frozen margaritas and tanning oil to celebrate end of semester. Before he left, Danny had talked to him about taking their own vacation sometime soon; he hoped that could bring some of the more he was looking for. Joshua hadn’t said much about it, but promised they’d talk about it when he got back. To keep himself excited, Danny was sending him photos and lists of places they could go.  

All this to keep the spark alive, and to show Joshua he was taking their relationship seriously. To prove he could have a real relationship without any real resolution to his feelings for Roy. To prove he could just put his crush on Roy behind him and get behind a tall, muscular, sweet guy like Joshua instead…

“How do you know Danny’s boyfriend is hot?” Raja’s half laughing, half startled voice brought Danny’s mind floating back into the conversation. “Or that he has a boyfriend at all?”

“Twitter, Instagram, all that shit.” Sam responded as if it was so obvious. “That hot guy has been in the background of all his posts and Snapchat stories for, like, months. He’s your boyfriend, right Danny?”

“Uh, yeah. I mean, he’s my – yeah, he’s my boyfriend. Was it really that obvious?” Danny didn’t realize he’d made Joshua such a thing on his social media.

“Well, yeah, I mean at least for people like me who are on watch.”

“Watch for what?” Justin piped in.

“All Stars 2, duh.” Justin froze for half a second, pausing mid-sip of his Redbull so quickly that it was imperceptible. “We all know it’s gonna happen, and sometime soon, so we’re watching out to see if any of you guys go dark because you’re off shooting it.”

“And who exactly is is this ‘we’?” Justin asked, looking a little concerned. “Is there some cult of Drag Race out there trying to – “

He was interrupted by a foghorn of a voice – a voice that still shot fireflies through Danny’s body.

“Who cares. It doesn’t matter, they’re barking up the wrong tree if they think any of you losers are gonna get an All Stars call.” With that, Roy plopped down into the seat next to Danny. “No one would watch that fucking show. I mean, I love them, but we all know just how charitable I – “

“Oh my God, it’s been like a year! Can you please get a new joke?!” The words spilled out of Danny’s mouth before he could stop them. He only hoped it came out funnier than the snide, cutting way he’d meant it.

Danny couldn’t see it, but Roy flinched. Roy could always tell when he was serious. But all Danny heard was his half-joking Bianca response.

“Well I’d ask you guys to write some for me, but for that you’d have to be literate.”

“Ha. Ha. Ha.” Danny rolled his eyes and smiled. “Seriously, get some new material. That shit doesn’t age well, and I don’t just mean yo’ face.” As he teased Roy, Danny relaxed into the small but conscientious space left between them. He settled into his favorite position: leaning into Roy’s left side, head lightly nestled on the crook of his neck, right hand resting just above his left knee. It was a position that calmed him, cleared his mind and made everything ok. Danny had half-sat / half-snuggled that way at least a thousand times on the show and on tour, it was so ingrained in his muscle memory that it he’d done it without noticing.

What he also didn’t notice, all of which happened in the blink of an eye: The hitch and then slowing of Roy’s breath. Justin looking at them with a smile. Raja’s cocked eyebrow. And Sam expression of confusion and glee.

Sam’s voice brought Danny back to reality. “Are you kidding? Everyone would die to see Alaska and Adore back on Drag Race.”

Luckily, he didn’t have to stay there long. “Adore DeLaska would crush All Stars 2, no question. The dream team.”

With the mention of teams and All Stars, Sam had managed to fully redirect the conversation. Justin, Roy, Raja and Sam started debating the merits of the team systems in the first All Stars, quickly devolving into loud argument about why Manila, Latrice or Nina Flowers were robbed. The volume drew people over to join them – Willam and Shane after a quick make-out, Detox after sending his boy home, and some other friends – enough that Danny didn’t have to participate. Instead he could stay silently snuggled up, letting the smoke and whiskey swirl, looking up at the fairy lights, and feeling the buzz of Roy’s chest every time he spoke or laughed.

This was their normal, how their friendship had been before Danny fucked it up. It was exactly what he’d hoped for.

–

Time passed. Again, Danny couldn’t tell exactly how much, but gun-to-his-head he would guess another hour. He was getting so sleepy, eyelids so heavy he couldn’t stop them from drooping. It was too comfortable nestled in Roy to move or try to stay awake.

But his vibrating ass slowly drew him out of the twilight. Really it was the vibrating phone in his back pocket, but in that moment it just felt like his butt cheeks were dancing.  

What really pulled him out of the daze was Roy’s hand – the hand that seconds before had been gently thumbing circles on his forearm – gripping his bicep to shake him awake. “Hey, Sleeping Beauty. You awake? Your ass is ringing.”

Danny didn’t want to answer. Whoever it was, they should know better to call him at 1:30am on a Saturday night. “Ugh, just leave it. Who the fuck is calling me right now, anyway?”

“I bet it’s your boyfriend!” Sam, again.

“Your what?!” This time it was Roy who sounded angry, hoping it would come off as funny. Danny missed it entirely – all he heard was boyfriend.

“My wha – Oh. Oh! Joshua.” Danny was awake now. Joshua hadn’t actually called him all week – just one word responses to all Danny’s texts – and he didn’t want to miss his first call in four days. He hopped off the oversized chair with surprising agility and sped off, missing the upset and baffled look on Roy’s face. He walked straight through the apartment and out the front door, the only quiet place he could think of. He banked on the door not locking behind him.

Alone and able to focus on his phone, Danny checked the call log. 3 missed calls from Joshua, and a couple of texts.

The first, before he called.

Joshua: Hi. Can you talk?

The second, after two missed calls.

Joshua: Danny, call me.

A third, just a few minutes before the last ring.

Joshua: Where are you? I need to talk to you.

Danny panicked. Something was wrong. Joshua was stranded or kidnapped or sick – it just wasn’t right. He immediately called back, but after a few rings there was no answer. He dialed again. And again. And a fourth time.

After four calls, he resorted to his own texts.

Danny: Babe, I’m soo o so sorty!

His own mistake-laden drunk texts. They flowed in a fast wave.

Danny: At Roys party. Couldn’t here phone. Vibezrate.

Danny: Whats happening? R u ok?

Danny: Are u safe? I cn sent help or send $#$$ just come get u yself.

Danny: Tell me ur ok!?!

Immediately there were bubbles. He’s alive. He can type. Danny allowed the thoughts of relief to calm him slightly.

Joshua: Yeah, I’m fine. You’re at a party?

Danny: Kinda. Roy’s. House warm thing.

Joshua: Ok, let’s talk about this later then. Have fun tonight.

Danny: Nooeeooz! Call me! I miss u!

Danny dialed him again, but there was no answer.

Joshua: Seriously Danny, let’s just talk tomorrow.

Danny wasn’t taking no for an answer. He called again – no answer. And again – straight to voicemail, it didn’t even ring.

Danny: Pick up! Pick up pick up!

No bubbles, no response.

Danny: Com on JOhua, I mss u! Want to talk to u.

Danny: Want to show off my boyfriend

Danny: Thy saw u on my Snaps nd stuff they know you’r cute, I wanna show you off!

And then, suddenly, there were bubbles. Long bubbles. Three actual minutes of bubbles, but to Danny it felt like hours. Why the text message took so long to send became immediately clear.

Joshua: Danny, I - Maybe this is just easier to say now. I can’t do this anymore. When we started this, I told you I was looking for something casual and easy. There’s too much going on in my life with school and work and my little brother moving out here… I thought you understood that. But obviously not, you’re talking about taking trips together and calling me your boyfriend – we never even talked about that! Christ, I’m on your social media and you’re telling strangers before we even talk about it. My friends  just showed me all the posts, I feel like I just got fucking ambushed. I just can’t handle this right now. I think you’re so great, but I can’t be anybody’s boyfriend right now and I can’t make a commitment to  you.

Before Danny could finish reading the paragraph, two more texts came through.

Joshua: You should have someone who loves you the way you want them to.

Joshua: But that won’t be me.

Danny was actually dumbstruck. He couldn’t move, he couldn’t blink, he didn’t even know how he was breathing. The only think he was consciously doing was replaying the words “But that won’t be me” over and over and over on a CNN crawl.

After a few brief moments of paralysis, Danny tried to call Joshua. He was convinced he could talk his way out of this.

No answer on the first try. He was psyching himself up to call again, reassuring himself that he could get Joshua back – when he realized he wasn’t sure he wanted to.

Think this through, he forced himself to pause. Was he, Daniel Noriega, really going to beg for a man who didn’t want him? Joshua was right, really. He deserved someone who loved him the way he wanted to be loved. And anyway, hadn’t he spent the last few weeks worrying about getting the spark back? Maybe there was no spark to begin with. Maybe easy – what Joshua wanted, and what Danny found boring – was all they were.

Easy was never going to be enough for Danny. Ever since he was 5 years old and saw that ridiculous Olsen twins’ movie It Takes Two, he always knew he was going to need that “can’t eat, can’t sleep, reach for the stars, over the fence, world series kind of love.” Joshua had probably just saved him from doing what he always did: trying to make more out of relationships than was actually there.

Really, this is a good thing. Danny thought to himself. His brain knew it, but is heart still heart. He felt the lingering sensation of the wind being knocked out of him, and his eyes seemed to be watering of their own volition. No matter how ‘good’ this was, it didn’t dull the pain of raw, total rejection. Memorialized forever in a text message, no less.

After a taking a few minutes to process, Danny knew then that it was time to start moving. Just like after Florida, he went in search of something to distract from the growing (emotional) wound in his chest. He called this ‘shark mode’ – swim or die.

He made a beeline for the group he’d left just 15 or 20 minutes before, hoping to snatch Roy away from the conversation. Danny could use him as a diversion – seize the moment to properly catch up with his best friend and talk until he went numb or he went home, which ever came first.

But Roy was nowhere to be found – not in the chair he’d left him in, not anywhere else on the patio.

“D – “ Danny slid up alongside Detox, who reached an arm around his shoulders and hugged him immediately.

“Hey baby girl, you ok? Your eyes look a little…” Detox pulled an unpleasant face, but still managed to look concerned for his friend.  

Danny could guess why. He knew his emotions had gotten the better of him and that he’d cried just a little, probably making the little bit of eyeliner he had on run, but he didn’t really care.

“Don’t worry, I’m fine. I’m fine.” Danny flashed a half-fake smile. “Do you know where Roy went?”

“Yeah, he walked away right after you got up. Looked like he was going inside. Listen, you sure you’re ok?” Clearly Danny hadn’t been very convincing.

“Yeah, yeah. Totally fine. I’ll just – where did he go?”

Then, a voice from the chair below them. It was Shane. “I think I saw him go into the kitchen, babe. What’cha need?”

“I need to – I need – where’s the kitchen?”

“Inside the apartment, first door on the left.” Shane pointed vaguely towards the patio doors.

“Thanks, I’ll be right back.” Danny took off for the door. He was of singular mind: Find Roy. Talk to Roy. Roy will make this better.

When Danny found the kitchen, he was stopped dead in his tracks by an image that would burn in his brain for months – far longer than any text from Joshua.

There was a handsome blonde man standing next to Roy at the double kitchen sink, laughing very close to each others’ faces. The water was running, both tubs were filling with bubbles, and they appeared to be washing some of the dishes from the party. Danny had seen the other guy around – the friend in the background of WeHo girls’ photos, that’s how he recognized him – and guessed he was somewhere in his mid-30s. He was wearing a tight white t-shirt that highlighted his tan, and from his laughing smile Danny could see that he had equally bright white teeth.

And then, as Danny hovered at the door before interrupting, it happened: Handsome Blonde Man dropped the sponge he was holding and grabbed Roy’s face instead, pulling him in from laugh to kiss. Danny was sure that Roy was going to swat him away – that he’d be grossed out by the soapy water, or shocked that this guy had so suddenly made a move – but he didn’t. Roy threw the dishtowel on the ground, grabbed Handsome Blonde Man by the waist, and backed him against the counters behind them. He deepened the kiss as he did so, taking it from surprise peck to full on make-out. Hands started to wander, Danny saw Roy’s hand go into HBM’s hair as HBM’s hand inched towards the hem of Roy’s shirt –

It was too much. Danny slammed his eyes shut, whipped silently back into the hallway, and took very quiet steps away from the kitchen until he was sure he would be out of ear shot. He ended up in Roy’s sewing room, which was thankfully had no windows to the patio, crouching by a dress form.

And then he cried.

Not silent little tears. Not pretty fat mascara drops. Ugly, wheezing, shaking, as much dry heaving as anything else – real crying. He was desperately using his hands to muffle whatever sound he could, barely snorting in enough air to blow it back out in sobs.

Breathe. You have to breathe. Danny was trying to coach himself out of this.

In for 2, out for 2. In for 2, out for 2. Counting wasn’t helping.

You can’t let them hear you. You can’t let him hear you. Fear wasn’t helping either.

Why are you even crying anyway? Is this about Joshua? Or is it because… Danny knew he needed to stop his train of thought quickly.

Luckily, a wild Willam appeared.

“Danny what the fuck is that noise, did you already find somebody to fu—Oh shit.” Willam squatted down alongside Danny and threw his arms around him. “Hey kid, what’s going on? Breathe, breathe, breathe.” He started rocking Danny back and forth, trying to calm him down.

 Knowing he’d have to explain eventually, Danny decided to just start lying now. Through sobs at every pause, he was able to spit out half the truth: “I – I just got – text – Ro – I mean, Joshua – Josh - Joshua just broke up with me – on – a fucking – text message.”

“Ah fuck that little shit. Fuck him in his stupid face. Where he at in Mexico? I’ll go down there and kill him.”

He appreciated the protectiveness of his new-ish friend. Again, he spoke between sobs. “No – it’s – it’s ok. – Don’t – Just leave it.” Danny was starting to calm down, and was able to string together full sentences without yelping. “It’s not his fault. He did the right thing.” He wiped away some of his tears.

“Ok, so if that’s true then why are you over here crying like Mufasa just died?”

Danny knew he would just have to ramble his way out of this one. Talking endlessly usually got him out of most sticky situations. “Umm –“ But he was drawing a blank.  

“I’m guessing it has less to do with that boyfriend and more to do with your other one. The one who’s in the kitchen right now about to get his dick sucked by a good-looking blonde dude?”

With that, the floodgates opened back up. Danny was back in the throws of tears, shaking and gasping as he curled into a ball.

“Oh, sweetie.” Willam dropped his coated exterior for just a moment. “Shh, shh. It’s ok, let’s get you outta here. Wipe your face, I’ll call you an Uber. Do you want me to go with you? I can get Shane or Jus –“

“No.” Danny wasn’t going to let anyone else into this. “No – I’m – I’ll be – I’ll be fine. Uber is good. I can go al – I can go alone. Just, p – please don’t tell them why I left?” He hoped Willam could keep his mouth shut again.

“You got it boo.” He was already fiddling with his Uber app. “But I gotta tell ‘em something. Can I use the actual boyfriend thing as cover?”

Danny couldn’t tell if he was joking, but he figured everyone would have to find out anyway. Might as well let someone else tell it for him. “Sure, f – fine. Just not –“

“Don’t worry, secret’s safe with me. Now let’s get you up and outta here before you cry on one of these dresses and Haylock comes to murder-suicide you, Shakespeare-style.”

Danny half laughed, half sobbed. Star-crossed lovers was starting to sound about right. Willam helped him up and out the door, fast enough that no one could’ve seen. Danny was grateful for that.

He was still crying when he got into the Uber, but now the wild sobbing had subsided and he was able to reasonably mask the tears from the driver. Letting them flow in silence, he texted Willam.

Danny: Can’t say thank you enough for getting me out of there and covering for me. Muchisimas gracias

Willam: Bitch, I don’t speak Spanish – the fuck you say? Anyway, anytime. Had to take care of my best girl’s best girl.

Danny: Ha, right. Shane’s lucky, glad you know we know.

Willam: We’re not fooling anyone. But I am, right now – story’s already spreading that you went home because of your dipshit boyfriend who broke up with you over a stupid text message. Reasons include: he’s actually straight, he’s ashamed of his small dick, he couldn’t handle you, he’s dying in 6 weeks…

Danny: THANK YOU.

In the midst of their conversation, texts started flowing through from friends at the party.

Shane: DANNY! DANNY! ADORM. I’m so sorry, love. Willam just told us what happened. Are you ok? Call me in the morning xx

Detox: Babe, just heard from Justin. I’ll castrate that Joshua dude in his sleep. Where is he staying in Mexico? Send me his Twitter handle.

Justin: Willam told us about the text. Get some rest. We’ll come by in the morning. Love you, Adore Cilantro.

Raja: Casting spells on that motherfucker tonight, his dick is gonna be real small now.

They kept rolling in – from friends at the party, friends of friends at the party, even his cousin. He had to beg Johnny not to say anything to his mom before he could call her in the morning.

By 4am everything quieted down. But one text never came, the one he kept hoping he would see: one from Roy. That didn’t come through until noon the next day.

Roy: Baby girl, I just heard what happened last night. Sorry, I had to turn in early last night and I missed all the action. Call me if you want to talk about it. Love you.

It was late, and it was a lie. And it made Danny cry all over again.

Danny: No worries, B. Fucking idiot wasn’t worth my time anyway.

–

A week later, Handsome Blonde Man started making regular appearances in Roy’s social media posts.

3 days after that, Danny got the call to do All Stars 2. Roy was the first person he told – via text.

2 days before he left, another package showed up on Danny’s doorstep. Red paper, giant bow. Inside was a black dress – long sleeves, sequins, above the knee. Pinned to it was a note:

Something as beautiful as you are talented. Go kick some ass, pussyfart! We’re rooting for you. Love you xx

Underneath the note was a photo of Roy and HBM, wearing Adore Delano t-shirts.

And it made Danny cry all over again.

—

[wrenwritesometimes]

Ghost

A/N: This is my first of two respective entries to Mara’s ( @mysaintsasinner) Supernatural Song Challenge! I chose “Ghost” by Ella Henderson with the pairing of Soulless!Sam x OC. Next one out will be a Dean x OC... and that'll be out......... before July 😬 

Anyway! The song lyrics of the song I chose (Ghost by Ella Henderson) won't DIRECTLY? Be? In the story?

The theme of the song will be sprinkled into a part of it, and it'll be a recurring theme. Lol

As always, thanks to my wonderful Dean-to-my-Sam @imnoaingeal for reading through!!

Characters: Soulless!Sam x Reader, Dean x Lisa kinda, Ben and maybe Bobby in later installments (there'll be more)

Warnings: Graphic blood and gore? I guess you can call it that? How about a general warning of “Soulless!Sam” and leave it at that for the “gore” related concerns. There's also highly abusive qualities of their relationship, so eek. Medical shtuff, and general unpleasant-sounding brain injury, and mentions of suicide and scars (inflicted not self-inflicted).

Looks like a great story, huh guys. :| 

Sam.

That was the only word that could go through my brain as I looked upon the man - the man who saved the world. The man I had known for years, the one who had tossed himself into the pit of fucking Hell Itself.

For us.

A regular Jesus Christ.

He smiled. His smile seemed off. Over-played, over-acted. Shh.

“Olivia.”

“Sam,” I replied all too quickly, as if I were gasping for breath. “Wh-what are you--”

“I'm here for you.”

My stomach seemed heavier. My shoulders tense. My eyes uncomfortably watery.

Okay, I thought. Okay, I can be that. I can be his.

Hindsight is 20/20, as the saying goes.

“Look,” he said to me. His usual concern, again, seemed over-acted - scripted. But I ate that shit up like puppy chow. “I want you… to come with me, Olive.”

I was already nodding like a dysfunctional buoy.

He was close. Closer than we'd ever physically gotten without a brisk embrace or a “here, lean on me; you're hurt” pretense.

“Will you come with me?”

I said yes before the last syllable even left his throat.

Things went downhill from there.

I gave myself to him in ways I never imagined. I gave myself to something dark.

It was impossibly hard to admit to myself that Sam wasn't… himself. After hell.

I definitely ignored how sadistically violent he'd become...

I ignored when he did a hard pass on going to his brother. I accepted that he wanted Dean to be peaceful and happy. I wanted to, too.

But there was always this nagging… voice. In the back of my mind whenever I was with him, and when we found Samuel.

Like some ghost on my shoulder, begging me to listen to it.

Sam was normal for the most part - in the beginning, at least. He was just putting on an act, though. Everything felt scripted and forced.

I wasn't a total fucking dumbass. Just a girl in desperate need of the one she loved.

It took Sam diving into the black and stormy abyss of Hell itself for me to realize this was how I felt about Sammy.

No one ever told me true love was going to hurt, though… true pain that I didn't deserve, more like.

Truth is, as time went on, I just never learned. I watched with open eyes what he could do. Yet I stayed.

Even if I left, I stayed. I kept going back to him. I let him under my skin, like the burning satisfaction of easing a needle full of heroin into one’s veins. I guess, in a way, I made myself the victim. I love living innocent...

That's where my love was burning -- still is burning.

Every damn time I came back to him, I somehow would overlook his odd stares, void of all emotion and the genuine care he would show… everyone - even strangers. Basically, “how he used to be” was what I fell in love with…

So, I would focus on the ghost. I'd substitute this Sam’s actions with… well, The Ghost of Sammy.

I need to give up the ghost, I had thought that night. Then I said, in a night of blind passion, in the dark: “Stop this hunting, baby. No more hunting, baby.”

He just... laughed at me and... carried on with his task before unceremoniously finishing without me, and leaving our motel room.

I cried myself to sleep within an hour, sleeping the demons away.

I needed something to wash out the pain. The only thing I got was the ghost of him keeping me awake.

That's when I wrote the letter.

I knew he wouldn't care.

I wrote it anyway.

For me. Maybe for Dean, if he ever caught wind of his brother alive and kicking.

I need something that can wash away all the pain. But your ghost keeps me awake.

And then I took my shotgun.

Again… in retrospect, that was perhaps a bit rash. I'll never say I'm an intellectual.

At the same time, what I assumed was my heaven was an unexpected gift.

“Hey, Olive!” Sam called to me, beckoning, his eyes alight and kind again, his dimples present in a true smile.

I grinned blissfully, jogging to catch up with him. We clasped hands tightly and I stared up into his hazel eyes… the smile slipped from my face slowly.

This wasn't Sammy. He wasn't dead. This was just my own imagination. Sam’s hair was short - as short as it was when I met him.

This was just a fractured scenario.

I reached up and caressed his cheek, the birds singing their songs - in the woods, where we were walking - became a dull hum, and the greenery around us began blearing out in my peripherals like a melting painting.

Leaning his head to make his forehead press against my own, “My Ghost,” I murmured softly, my breath bouncing off of his face and tickling my own.

He embraced me tightly before I felt an unholy pull upon my soul.

I clutched to Sammy with all my damn might, and screamed in pain as I felt the very walls of my spirit stretch unwillingly and twist grotesquely. I felt nauseous and like I was seeing… everything upside down and backwards.

Then my Heaven slipped away from my grasp, Sam roaring my name.

With a spike in an otherwise monotonous beeping, I woke up. That was the only thing I heard. That spike of the beeping. Then everything was underwater… then muted.

I stared dumbly at the plaster ceiling above me, completely disoriented on if I was feeling sadness or numbness or pain.

I was suddenly surrounded by nurses and one doctor, all smiling gently and kindly, speaking words I couldn't hear or make intelligible.

One of the nurses put a strong, steady hand on my shoulder and made me focus on her face.

Moving her mouth.

“Youruh… bro…” her tongue was out… ther. “Brother”. Now she was snarling at me? No. “Is”. … “here”?

I don't have a brother, I remember thinking. Then, I can't move my fucking neck...

But then, there was Dean. Looking restless and exhausted at the same time.

I didn't move or react, and I don't think I could have.

His lips were moving, his eyes becoming moist as his face became more strained.

As the nurses all filtered out (they had been checking all of the shit on me, I think), one handed him a notepad and a pen.

His face broke a little further, but he pulled himself together enough to nod a silent thanks and sat beside my bed.

He scribbled a note after three attempts at keeping his emotions from his face; I could tell.

I tried my hardest to make out the note, but it came out blurry and… different fonts and sizes, almost.

Dean was persistent, though. He kept it up for a long time until I could finally focus my eyes.

“You're lucky to be alive at all,” it said. 

I nodded (to the best of my ability), completely resigned, turning my restricted neck to go back to staring at the ceiling above me.

The point was to NOT be alive anymore. I couldn't handle the voice, the small one always tugging at the back of my head, the small voice that - no matter what I did - would never leave... The voice saying Sam was dead and gone.

The Ghost.

I didn't realize I was crying until Dean’s calloused fingers wiped my face clear of tears.

He scribbled another note.

“I'm calling Cas.”

I ignored him; as did Cas.

It was a solid two months until I could manage to get words out. Broken, dumbed down, meaningless words that Dean nonetheless assigned meaning to.

“Wah,” was water. “Buh,” was bathroom. “Nurh,” was nurse. “Dah,” was doctor. “Heh,” was help.

Pathetic, dumb, horrible, meaningless words.

I still could hardly hear, but I was definitely good at reading lips now. Nurses made for funny gossip.

Apparently shooting a shotgun into your skull severely damaged… everything. My temporal lobe had managed to take the brunt of the bullet, but the buckshot managed to knock - not only my cerebellum out of whack - but my parietal lobe as well. Not to mention my neck was fucked up from the recoil.

I was essentially useless. Balance, speech, hearing, memory, sense of touch and pain  

I couldn’t communicate, I couldn’t think straight, I slept ALL of the time. But Dean admitted that he had told the nurses to sedate me semi-regularly. I was mad at him for about a day. Then I forgot about it.

Lisa was the one to write me sweet notes, telling me all the shit I knew already, though… How Dean only had them sedating me for my own good… that sleep was the best cure to a healing process… That kind of stuff.

Lisa was kind and genuine. I had seen Dean’s silhouette behind her leaning on my doorframe and just watching her be like an older sister to me. It was touching. He really cared for this broad.

Ben… Ben was adorable, even though I hardly saw the kid at the time… The way Dean was with him? I could never get over how perfect of a father Dean would be.

It made me as emotional as I could practically get.

I managed to never tell Dean about Sam. For all I knew, he didn’t know his brother was even alive.

Despite how much Dean asked, I couldn’t ever... bring myself to tell him… why I did what I did. I let him assume… grief, hunt gone wrong, supernatural assault - whatever. I let my best friend - my brother - assume.

Perhaps my silence was an instinct to immediately side with Sam, or maybe perhaps “save” my own dignity. I felt the looks the nurses and doctors gave me and the scars...

It had taken Dean what looked like a very tense and heated argument to convince them that I didn’t need to be bound to my bed… That I wouldn’t… well, try again...

Either way, Dean was clueless to Sam being alive.

But I was… And I was grateful despite the pain.

To see Domestic Dean? That was admittedly a treasure.

Index finger pointing to me, two R’s zooming on to the left… “You ready?” Dean had signed to me.

Taking a deep breath and glancing uncomfortably at the derelict hospital room, I nodded and mumbled what I assumed was “Yes.” Probably came out like “Yeht”, but oh well. I’ve lost all reserves for what embarasses me when it comes to speech.

I saw his lips move as he turned, and I could only guess he had said something like “okay”. Maybe “let's go”, really I couldn't hear either, but it was fun to second guess myself. He beckoned me to come closer to him and offered his arm.

I needed it today. My equilibrium was still so shitty.

I stumbled a bit on my way to him, and he caught my forearm, a distant look in his eye.

I knew it was for my benefit and I loved him for it. To show he didn’t care, I guess. That he didn't see it. That he wasn’t worried. Just that he knew he needed to be there. Made me more comfortable with how much I needed him.

“Ohkay,” I voiced and we were off.

The impala felt… different. I had spotted some odds-n-ends I would never have seen if Dean wasn’t basically a father... Toys laying in the back made me oddly emotional, so I just stared forward… less stress in my neck, anyway.

The leather of the seats felt different, but I couldn’t explain that sensory issue.

I figured out the primary issue I had with the impala.

I couldn’t hear it. For the first time since meeting the boys, I couldn’t hear Baby rumble to life and rip out of the parking lot… I could only feel it. That was hardly the same.

I must’ve looked withdrawn, because Dean tapped my knee and motioned to his music. He pointed to it and then signed the vague sign of “what”.

I stared at him for a second before insinuating him to elaborate. Dean seemed to struggle for a moment before his face lit up like he remembered.

He moved his right hand to hover over his left forearm and he wove it up and down the length of the forearm. Music He brought his right hand down to gesture to the tapes and pinched his index finger and thumb together, signing “pick”.

“‘m shocked,” I mumbled. “I thouh I ha’ to shut my cahe hhole.”

Dean must've laughed a bit, because when I looked up at him, his eyes were crinkled and shining with a genuine, hopeful smile. I hadn't had much of a sense of humor through my stay at the hospital…

But hey. I got to pick the music. I wanted something that would rock my socks off.

I chose Metallica and I didn’t even have to ask Dean to turn it up. I placed my right hand and arm against the door and felt the drums and bass guitar rattle my bones. I relaxed in my seat and closed my bleary eyes, inhaling deep and exhaling slow.

What the fuck was I gonna do now.

Did you know that scars hurt?

I didn't, and I'd been hunting since I was old enough to speak.

Perhaps it's all contextual. The only scars that seemed to hurt were the ones on my neck, back, jowls and jaw, skull, and thighs.

I was littered with scars, don't get me wrong, but there are very specific causations of these scars in these places, that I think, cause this phantom pain.

For example: my neck.

“Did you hear that, Ollie?”

I swallowed thickly as I watched Sam plunge the knife straight into the throat of the young werewolf we had come across in the den. I felt my stomach become heavier than brick as all Sam did was stare with a grin into the boy’s wide eyes as he choked and gagged from the intrusion in his esophagus.

“This runt wanted to leave.”

He removed the knife from the werewolf kid’s throat and placed the knife on the still choking boy’s lips and nose as if he were shushing his cries.

I tried to swallow again, but that triggered my own gag reflex and I coughed on my own bile.

That brought his attention to me. Both of theirs.

The boy's eyes were somehow still wide, despite becoming cloudy and hooded. Asking for mercy.

Sam’s eyes were hooded themselves, but under vastly different circumstances. Predatory. His tongue dragged his lower lip between his teeth provocatively before he stalked over to me.

I gasped when the knife was firmly pressed against my own neck, my eyes wide and watery as I felt the sting of my own skin breaking under the pressure of the blade.

“Did you hear him?”

I did. I still do.

Each scar held a memory close enough to that one… Each memory held something that made me feel empty. Each scar made me feel less human.

I turned carefully and lifted my shirt slightly to see my back in the mirror.

He murmured into my ear, his nails digging along the healing scars from him on my back as he forced me down, “I put these here.”  “Y-yes…” I stammered, cringing in discomfort and fright.  “It's beautiful.”

No… It wasn't. I turned my back away from the mirror and lowered my shirt quickly.

Each time I even looked at myself, all I saw were his mutilations and… what he did to inflict them.

Who was I even, anymore… A fucking husk that couldn't even speak… couldn't even hear.

It wasn't anyone else’s fault but my own. I willingly accept that responsibility.

I was driven to do it, sure. But wasn't I the one who pulled the trigger?

Tap, tap.

That scared me, and I jumped. I faced the person that tapped my shoulder and wound up looking down to Ben.

I smiled slightly and voiced, what I assumed was: “What’s up?”

Ben grinned and waved for me to follow him. He had signed “breakfast” really quickly and sloppily, and I almost missed it, but I don't blame him for a second.

I got up from my bed where I had been trying to readjust to reading... My sight still distorted (focused and refocused, meaning no focus) when I read, so I was trying to get the fuck over that by… well, possibly fucking my eyes up further. Oh, well.

Ben knew to wait for me to place a hand on his shoulder - balance was still fucked even after a month at their house - and we were off.

He was speaking, I felt the rumble of his voice through his shoulder, and I could vaaaugely hear him… which shocked me. I didn't find it that noteworthy, considering it was as though he were underwater a few dozen feet away. It wasn't enough to actually hear his words, but at least he was doing the vague sign language I had come to understand from the kid.

He was explaining the morning he had… he had been in the hood of a car with Dean since he woke up… cute. I laughed, it suddenly resonated LOUDLY in my own head, as if I was the only one who could hear it… and HOLY SHIT it was LOUD.

I whimpered and I must've dug my fingers into the kid’s shoulder, because Ben whirled around jarringly and whacked at my hand fast.

S-shit, did I hurt him?? I took my hand off of him immediately and instead held my head, knocking my balance off immediately.

Ow.

I crashed into the hallway’s wall.

OW.

I slid down the wall and onto the floor.

Next I looked up, Ben was gone, likely to grab Dean… But me… I could hear my heart thudding, my lungs expanding and stammering with my breath… my blood flowing, and my voice that I didn't notice I was using till my own whimpers made me whimper louder.

“D-Dean!” I stammered, into the empty hallway, completely unaware of how loud my voice actually was… I could have been whispering for all I knew…

“DEAN?!”

Taglist:

@notnaturalanahi @wordstothewisereaders @violinmyhead 

[finn-nelson-for-the-win]

Hiya everyone!

I’ve had a lot of time to write recently and I may or may not have written the next 5 chapters, so to keep these chapters coming out on a regular basis, I figured now was as good of a time as any to post chapter 5…A large portion of this chapter was initially part of my chapter 4 update, but I decided to split it up to prevent chapter 4 from being like 10,000 words lol. Luckily, I was able to get this chapter back down under my 3,000 words or less goal (I feel like that’s a decent length, but if you prefer longer chapters let me know and maybe I won’t be as strict on myself with that goal.)

So picking up where my last post left off, Rae is overwhelmed by her recent realization that Finn could be reciprocating some of her romantic feelings, so she reaches out to some of her most trusted friends for advice…but will they tell her what she is hoping to hear? This chapter is practically an exact depiction of how I handled this situation not that long ago (and yes, before you ask, I am that annoying when I’m texting friends while freaking out hahaha) and once again most of these texts came straight from the group chat with some of my long-distance friends…

I hope you enjoy this chapter and as always each and every one of you that read, like, reblog, send massages, etc. mean the world to me and help me get off my ass and keep writing regardless of whatever shittiness I’m going through in my life right now, so thank you! ❤️

Click here if you’d like to get caught up on the first 4 chapters! 😁

Planting the Seed of Doubt

Rae’s hands were shaking—whether from excitement or overwhelming nerves, she was still uncertain of—as she unlocked her cellphone with the passcode and opened up the group chat conversation between two of her closest friends that were going to Uni on opposite side of the country from her. She had known Abigail and Chloe since they were kids and she knew that they would know exactly how Rae should be handling the situation.

Rae: Girls! OMG RED ALERT I HAVE SOME HUGE FUCKING NEWS

She placed her phone back on the stone table, taking a seat and anxiously awaiting her friends’ responses, nearly bouncing with anticipation. When her phone finally buzzed twice consecutively, Rae jumped, startled out of her distracted state before checking the messages she received.

Chloe: What is it Rae?

Abigail: Is everything ok? Are YOU ok Rae?

Rae: So you do girls remember that guy I told you about last month? My coworker with all the tattoos and the earring!?!

Abigail: Yeah, I remember you mentioning him and saying that he was a total knobhead…

Chloe: OMG RAE DID YOU TWO SHAG!?! I could sense the sexual tension between you and him with the last story you told us about him!! ;) ;) <3

Rae: Yeah, that’s him Abbie…And no, Chlo! WE DID NOT FUCKING SHAG!!!

Rae: When I first told you about him I had only just started working here and I described him to you two as the Bad Boy/Douchebag in every teen romance movie that you like watching!

Rae: Which was not meant as a compliment!!! >:(

Rae should have anticipated that Chloe would immediately assume that she was texting them to say that Rae had let Finn “whack it in her”, as Chloe has so eloquently put it on more than one occasion.

Chloe: What’s the news then? :/

Rae rolled her eyes in disbelief when she realized that Chloe was less than thrilled that Rae was not contacting her to brag about her recent “sexcapades” with her coworkers.

Why am I not surprised?

Rae’s phone buzzed against the table where she had set it down, indicating that she had received another text message.

Abigail: Yeah, Rae. The anticipation is killing me!!!! D:

Rae: Ok, so the bad boy/douche I told you two a bit about is named Finn, ok?

Rae knew that it would take a while to explain the situation via text, so she got into a comfortable position at the table in the garden she was sitting at and prepared to give her best mates the abridged version of her recent workplace flirtations with Finn.

Chloe: Go on

Abbie: Oh, that’s a cute name! Carry on…

Rae: So I just found out from my best mate at work that two weeks ago Finn was dumped by his girlfriend and he came to work the next day feeling kind of upset. Well, he sat by my friend and I and I guess he liked talking to us a lot because he has continued sitting next to us every day at work since then!

Chloe: So what, Rae? How is that big news?

Rae: WELL…TWO FUCKING WEEKS AGO WAS WHEN THIS TWAT STARTED BEING REALLY FRIENDLY WITH ME AND I JUST NOW REALIZED THAT THE DAY AT WORK WHEN HE HAD JUST BROKEN UP WITH HIS GIRLFRIEND WAS ALSO THE DAY HE SPENT THE ENTIRE DAY AT WORK STARING AT ME AND OGLING MY TITS!

Rae: HOW THE FUCK DID THAT NOT OCCUR TO ME?!?! THAT CAN’T JUST BE A COINCIDENCE, RIGHT?!?!

Abigail: OH MY GOD, RAE! That’s insane!! Do you like him more now or do you still think he’s a “complete knob” like you said last time?

Rae was very happy to see that Abbie was already excited for her, but she couldn’t help but wonder what was going through Chloe’s mind upon reading these texts, since the read receipt on her phone indicted that Chloe had read the texts but she had yet to respond back.

Rae: I DON’T KNOW!! I’VE GOTTEN TO KNOW HIM A BIT MORE SINCE HE’S BEEN SITTING NEXT TO ME…AND A FEW OF MY COWORKERS EITHER THINK WE WOULD WORK AS A COUPLE OR THINK THAT WE ARE ALREADY SECRETLY A COUPLE!!!

Rae: AND OH MY LORD, ABBIE, HE IS SO FUCKING FIT! <3 ;)

Abigail: So what are ya gonna do then, Rae?

Rae: I have no fucking clue! That’s why I wanted to text you two…

Rae noticed the three dots appear that indicated that someone was typing and tried to keep calm as she waited to see what advice her best friends had for her.

Chloe: Don’t take this personally Rae, but are you sure you’re not reading into the situation too much? I mean this guy you’ve been talking to and sit next to at work sometimes happens to be single. That doesn’t really seem like flirting to me Rae…

Ugh, typical fucking Chloe…

Rae: Chlo…you had to have been there. I didn’t think he would ever be flirting with me either, but a number of my coworkers think that he’s been flirting with me constantly for the last couple weeks.

Rae: And there’s been a few times where I’ve caught him checking me out when he thinks I won’t notice!!!

Rae: And sometimes he’ll touch my hand or my nose or just touch me in general and I can feel a literal spark between us…AND I THINK HE MIGHT FEEL THE SPARK SOMETIMES TOO!!!!!

Rae was typing faster than she could think at this point and was sending a series of short texts instead of one coherent message, but she was too caught up in the moment to care how annoying she normally found it when her friends did the same thing.

Chloe: Well are you sure he isn’t just being friendly? Some guys are just flirty and tactile in nature, but they don’t really mean anything by it, you know? Maybe he’s like that with all the girls you work with, you just haven’t been paying attention.

Rae had gone into this conversation overjoyed and hoping to have two of her closest mates from before Uni give her the push she needed to make a move with Finn, but even with Abigail’s support, what Chloe had said planted the seed of doubt within Rae’s head and she could not help but second-guess every interaction and conversation she has had with Finn since the first time he spoke to her nearly a month ago.

Rae had been in the Secret Garden much longer than she realized when she happened to glance at the time at the top of her cellphone screen and noticed that her last class of the day had already started. Seeing no point in attending class if she was going to be late anyway, Rae gathered her belongings and left the garden, locking the door again behind her and started the hour long walk back to her apartment from her Uni campus.

When Rae walked into her apartment, the sun had already gone down and she knew that it was beginning to get late. Having not eaten all day, Rae went to the kitchen to determine what she could cook herself to eat before getting started on homework; however, after being unimpressed by any prospective meals she could cook, she decided against cooking.

Ugh…fuck it..I need to relax a bit anyways

Rae grabbed the nearly full bottle of white wine she had in the refrigerator, forgoing the glass, and headed to her room to begin working on some of her homework assignments.

When Rae was satisfied with the progress she had made on all of her assignments, she opted to redirect her attention to binge watching shows on Netflix. Despite her efforts to get her mind off of the events of today, she still found herself unsure about where she stood with Finn and her mind was full of unanswered questions that were inescapable and had not been quieted by the wine she had been sipping up to this point.

What would even give me the idea that Finn could like me? Chloe is probably right, Finn acts like this with all our female coworkers, huh?

Have I ever seen him talk to other girls at work? Maybe once or twice, but mainly just me and Izzie, and he certainly treats me differently than her…

But why would he be acting so friendly to me out of no where? And why are Archie and Izzie convinced that there could be something between Finn and I?

Why would Finn ever settle for me when he can have anyone he wanted?

Is Finn just taking the piss? Is this just the most well-played prank in the history of the world?

Why would Finn do this to me if we were becoming friends? Or was that all part of his plan too?

But what about all the stolen glances and the banter Finn and I have? Archie is right, that can’t possibly just be a thing between friends and it seems too real to be made up, right? And why would Finn have spent an entire shift at work checking me out and starting at my boobs if he wasn’t interested in me?

Or is he just interested in me to check “shagged a fat girl” off his bucket list? Or even worse, does he realize how much I fancy him and he’s just being nice to me out of pity?

I didn’t even really like him like that until after he started sitting with Izz and I more regularly, so that couldn’t be the reason why, could it?

Rae’s mind kept racing and she kept drinking the wine straight from the bottle, in what seemed to be an attempt to find the answers to all these questions and everything else plaguing her mind at the bottom of the bottle.

Before long, Rae tilted her head back, willing the final drops of wine to fall from the bottle.

Wine is so fucking gross…

Rae tried to stand up from her desk chair to take the now empty wine bottle into the kitchen, suddenly becoming aware of how much the wine was taking effect when everything in her line of sight began to soften around the edges and blur slightly. Standing on shakey legs, Rae slowly walked to her kitchen and added the wine cork to her small collection and put the bottle in the recycling bin.

Rae walked into her bedroom just as the beginning notes to Fade Into You by Mazzy Star flowed through the Bluetooth speakers playing music from her Spotify playlist and she soon found herself swaying gently to the music with her heavy eyes barely remaining open.

The next song that came on the playlist that was set to shuffle was Roads by Portishead, and while Rae continued to sway and swivel her hips to the beat of the music, she soon realized that there were silent tears running down her face.

I’m dancing and I’m crying…Shit! I forgot that wine makes me an emotional drunk…as if I needed to be any more emotional after the long day I’ve had.

***

The next morning Rae awoke feeling like shit and likely looking just as bad, but she leapt out of bed when she looked at the alarm clock on her bedside table and realized that she had slept through her alarm and would likely be late for work.

Shit shit FUCK shit shit…no more sudden movements, Rae!

Her head was pounding and she suddenly remembered exactly why she had promised herself that she would not drink alone anymore, but for the first time in over half a day, Finn was not on her mind.

She took a quick shower in the coldest water she could handle, trying to wake herself up and sober up a bit, before throwing on a pair of denim skinny jeans, a black and white band tee, and her favorite black high top converse and rushing out the door of her apartment.

She made the 15 minute walk to work in just less than half that time and was flushed when she walked into the office, scanned her badge at the machine on the wall, and took the open seat next to Izzie.

She sighed a breath of relief, since she was only 5 minutes late to work, as she logged into her computer and Izzie greeted her; however, she soon noticed that the person she had become accustomed to sitting next to for over two weeks now was not in his usual spot at her side.

Where is Finn? Oh shit…he knows…I don’t know what exactly it is that he knows, but I’m sure he knows.

“Rae? Are ya alright? You don’t look so good…” Izzie asked, the concern evident in her voice as she gently laid her hand on top of Rae’s where it sat on the desk beside her computer keyboard.

“I’m ok Izz, thanks…I just had a lot on my mind last night and I tried to quiet my mind with some wine…well, a lot of wine, actually…” Rae grimaced, faintly remembering the taste and dull burn of the wine that she had quickly become numb to by the time she finished the bottle.

“Rae, you know better than that,” Izzie began with the tone of a mother who was disappointed in the actions of her unruly child, but her tone and facial features softened almost immediately, “do ya need anything for your head? Or some coffee or tea?”

Tea and coffee sounded tempting to Rae, but she knew that getting some food into her system to help absorb the alcohol should be her top priority.

“No, my head is fine, thanks. I’ll be okay, I just finished off the entire bottle of wine I was drinking last night and I hadn’t eaten anything all day, so I just have a bottle of wine rotting away in my belly with no food to help soak it all up.” Rae chuckled slightly when Izzie’s eyebrows raised in surprise at her statements.

“You need to be more careful, girl! We can’t have you being reckless like that and feeling like shit at work, now can we?” Finn said as Rae turned a little too quickly in her desk chair to realize that he was sitting on the opposite side of the aisle of desks next to Hannah and he had been eavesdropping on Rae’s conversation with Izzie that whole time.

He gave her a genuine smile, but she could just barely make out the concern in his eyes when he looked her over briefly.

“Yeah…none of this was really planned out, but I’ll try to be more careful, Finn.”

“That’s all I’m asking of ya, Mae!” He replied before turning around in his chair to face his computer screen again and get back to work.

Rae made it through her shift at work—but not without some difficulty—and as her and Izzie were walking back to their apartments after work together Rae cleared her throat and asked the question that had been on her mind all day.

“So Izz, do you know why Finn wasn’t sitting near us today?”

“Uh, no, I don’t actually…I just walked in and saw him sitting next to Hannah when I got into work…how odd.” Izzie shrugged and changed topic of conversation to one of her particularly difficult customers she had been contacted by; however, Rae found herself perplexed by Finn’s unexplained change of seating for the second time in less than a month.

@eveerez @tinakegg @hey1tskat1e @bitchesbecrazy89 @kneekeyta @milllott @protectfinnnelson @arathewallflower @jackiewalsh2013 @pink-royaute @i-dream-of-emus 

Wanna be added to the tag list? Let me know and I’ll be happy to help ya out!

[bevioletskies]

20 questions [3/20]

characters: peter/gamora, guardians-centric

fandom: avengers academy/marvel cinematic universe

summary: wasp has a new competition in store for the students of avengers academy, and there’s money involved. so obviously, peter and gamora have to pretend to be a couple in order to win. wait, what?

chapter preview: gamora worries about thanos, peter and gamora have a moment, and the sovereign have returned to be terrible and annoying (again). 

word count: 4121 | total word count: 118k

a/n: warning for canon-typical violence and vague descriptions of injuries near the end - attempting space battles with regular quinjets ain’t easy, yo.

ao3 | previously | next | masterpost

“Nomination forms? Nomination forms! Right over here!” Pepper was hovering over the crowd in her repulsor boots, hollering down to anyone who bothered to listen. It was Friday afternoon, and everyone was spread out across the lawn, lazily soaking in the sun and enjoying the good weather. Pepper, however, was determined to help Janet get her project to work.

Gamora’s eyes scanned the area for her friends, nervously adjusting her guitar strap on her shoulder. They had been too busy the last few days of the week for socialization, aside from a quick “hello” around campus, but now? It was showtime.

Upon spotting Yondu’s fin (it really was quite helpful in distinguishing the Guardians from the crowd), she walked over in what she hoped was a casual manner, and neatly dropped herself down next to Peter. She removed her guitar and set it down in front of her, before turning to pat him on the cheek with a gloved hand. “Hello,” Gamora said in a passably affectionate voice.

Peter grinned, reaching to gently grasp her wrist with his fingers and hold her hand there. “Hey yourself,” he said. “You have a good session with Ares?”

“It was acceptable,” she said. “I broke a dagger on his helmet.”

“That’s my girl,” Peter beamed, releasing her for a moment, only to reach over and squeeze her hand. Somewhere, Gamora could vaguely hear Kamala crying tears of joy.

“Think I’m gonna be sick,” Rocket said, looking up from his pile of junk. “Can you two do this someplace else?”

“We’re trying to win,” Peter whispered. “Let us be cute, man.”

“I am Groot.” The little one stuck his head out from under a pile of coils. “I am Groot?”

“No, don’t call them mom and dad, that’s weird.”

“I’m leaving now,” Nebula announced loudly, standing up. “Congratulations on being insufferable within 30 seconds of your arrival.”

“Bye!” Peter called after her without a hint of irony in his voice. Gamora would’ve scolded him, but his fingers tightened around hers as if to reassure her, and she decided she would let it go this time. She instead decided to move slightly closer so their shoulders were touching, and he turned back to smile at her so dopily that she smiled back.

“You are ridiculous,” Gamora informed him. She finally removed her hand from his so she could set her guitar on her lap and began plucking at it idly. “Drax, have you checked the amps at Club Galaxy like I asked?”

“Yes, and they are in terrible shape,” Drax said more cheerfully than she would have liked. “The money you and Quill will win us should get us a more than sufficient set of replacements.”

“Hey now, why is it down to me and Gamora?” Peter protested. “There’s like, a million other things we could win, too. Like, Groot is totally gonna win Cutest Recruit.” The little tree nodded enthusiastically in agreement. He was very cute.

“That is only five thousand units,” Drax pointed out. “We require ten to fix the equipment at Club Galaxy.”

“Dude, that was just an example,” Peter groaned, slinging an arm around Gamora’s shoulders. “Point is, Gamora and I have a pretty good chance of winning, but you can’t rely on us alone.”

“That reminds me,” Gamora said, letting her fingers rest for a moment. “Elektra is trying to coerce - I mean, convince - me that you and I should go on a ‘double date’ with her and Murdock.”

“Oh god.” Peter slapped a hand to his forehead, slumping slightly. She felt his body weight shift to rest against her. It wasn’t completely unpleasant. “Matt’s cool and all - I mean, blind ninja! - but Elektra scares me.”

“You’re dating the most dangerous woman in the d’ast galaxy,” Rocket reminded him, fishing Groot out of the pile of parts and setting him down on his lap. “Nothing should scare you at this point.”

“Grow a spine, Quill!” Yondu punched him in the arm. “Ain’t nothing about that Elektra should scare you when you've got Gamora here.”

Out of the corner of her eye, Gamora spotted a flash of yellow swishing about a few feet away. Thinking quickly, she continued to move closer until she was practically on Peter’s lap and turned so her nose was mere inches from his cheek. “You aren’t scared of me, are you, Star-Lord?” she said softly, her mouth ghosting over his ear, though not so softly that Janet couldn’t hear. Sure enough, an excited squeak joined in on their conversation, along with the sound of a phone camera.

“Cu-u-ute!” Janet sing-songed, lowering her phone so she could get a better look. “Don’t mind me, just checking in on the Academy’s hottest new couple. Well, when I say new - ”

“Hottest? Don’t you mean cutest?” Peter winked. Janet giggled, holding up her phone again.

“Say hello to the Academy’s Snapchat,” she said. “Exclusive - Star-Lord and Gamora are officially dating. What's their ship name?” She ended the recording and looked at them consideringly. “I should totally have a brainstorm sesh with Kamala. Catch you guys later!”

“She is pleased to see you are happy, Gamora,” Mantis said thoughtfully, closing her book. “I think that Janet was hoping you would eventually date Peter.”

Peter raised an eyebrow at this, sitting up a little straighter to look at Gamora, but she purposely ducked her head to adjust one of her guitar strings. Deciding to let it go, he turned towards Yondu and quickly changed the subject to a story about when he and Yondu decided to be young and stupid (read: something they had done about two months before joining the Academy) on some random planet they weren’t allowed to go back to. Drax laughed uproariously at the appropriate (and inappropriate) moments while Rocket groaned and attempted to cover Groot’s ears. “Oh come on, Quill, not in front of the kid, his language is bad enough…”

Gamora smiled privately to herself, and, feeling generous, gently patted Peter on the thigh, hoping it would convey her gratefulness for his choice to not dig further into Mantis’s comment.

______

“He-llo, viewers, and welcome back to another episode of The Latest Buzz!” Janet grinned widely into the camera, her smile practically reflecting light back into the lens. “Oh - no, Mr. Jameson, I swear this is super important for The Daily Bugle - no wait -”

A cut. “A-a-a-and I’m back, sorry about that everyone. Mr. Jameson gets really grumpy when I’m not trying to run stories on Spider-Man or any of the other, quote-unquote, ‘spider menaces’ running around campus. Anyways, in case you haven’t heard, we are publishing a yearbook this year so that you - the lovely public - can get to know our amazing students and see what we’re all about. It will feature photos, quotes, funny moments, and, of course, the best part of any yearbook - superlatives!”

“Now, I’m not supposed to share, but I’ll give you crazy amazing people some exclusives.” Janet tapped her mouth with her pointer finger. “But don’t tell anyone, okay? So far, the top contender for Best Hair is Thor - Odinson, that is, not Jane Foster, though her hair is pretty sweet, too - the competition for Biggest Brain is currently down to Hulk, Iron Man, and Black Panther, and, if you can believe it, the most-nominated pair for Cutest Couple is Peter Quill and Gamora!” Janet sighed dreamily. “I think they’re my new favourite ship, I’m not gonna lie. If you check out our Snapchat account - QR code up here - you can see them being totally adorable this afternoon while we were all hanging out together. They seemed like an underdog at first, because we literally just found out they were dating like, two days ago, but who knows? Maybe they’ll sweep this whole competition and boom!”

______

Gamora stared at the holo-screen in horror, nearly dropping her spoon into her bowl of stew. “Did she just tell the whole world that we’re dating?”

“She did Snapchat it,” Peter reminded her, shuffling past her on the couch to settle down on the oversized armchair.

“I thought she only sent that around to other students,” Gamora groaned. “What if Thanos sees?”

“You worried Daddy doesn’t like your new boyfriend?” Rocket teased. Gamora didn’t have time to tell him to shut up when Nebula decided to whack him in the gut with the currently-detached hand she was fixing. “O-ho, wouldn’t do that if I was you!”

“It’s not disapproval I’m worried about, it’s revenge,” Gamora exclaimed, nearly flinging her food everywhere in agitation. “It is bad enough he knows of this school, if he thinks that I have become romantically attached to someone, he will go after them first. He will torture Quill and tear him apart, slowly, painfully, and make me watch.”

“I’ve dealt with some pretty overprotective dads before, but that sounds like a worst-case scenario kind of thing,” Peter said, kicking up his feet on the coffee table. “Relax, Gamora. We’ll deal with it together, like we always do.” He began shoveling his food into his mouth with abandon. “I mean,” he continued, spraying chunks everywhere, “Thanos has been threatening to rain hell on the school for ages. It’s gonna take him like, six years to actually do anything, as far as I can tell.”

“You are too relaxed about this,” Gamora said, standing up. “It’s your life on the line.” Exhaling slowly, resisting the urge to yank out one of her blades, she stalked off to her room.

An awkward silence fell over the common space. “Should I go and talk to her?” Mantis finally said, worrying the hem of her skirt between her fingers.

Peter shook his head. “No, we should just leave her be for now. I’ll go talk to her later. She’s only mad at me.” Mantis moved closer to Peter, sitting on the armrest of his chair, and draped an arm around his shoulders, patting him slowly.

“As she is on any day that ends in ‘y’,” Rocket snorted.

“I agree with the fox,” Nebula said. “My sister finds you particularly annoying.”

“Yeah, well, what else is new,” Peter said resignedly.

______

A couple hours after dinner, Gamora was lost in her argumentative essay on superhero ethics. She and the Guardians had not participated in the Academy’s infamous civil war of last year, but she still maintained it was a rather pointless thing to fight about.

Knock. Knock. “Gamora? It's Peter. Can I come in?”

She sighed. “Yes.”

Peter walked in slowly, clearly freshly showered. His hair was damp and slightly sticking to his forehead, and there was a wet spot on his T-shirt where he hadn't dried himself off enough. She also spotted a slight knick in his neck where he had cut himself shaving. Internally shaking herself, she nodded to indicate she was ready to talk.

“I didn't mean to brush you off earlier,” Peter said. “I just think that there's no point in worrying right now. But if I was worrying, I’d be way more worried about you than me if Thanos comes knocking. I mean, let's face it, I'll be dead in two seconds flat. But he knows how to hurt you. And that's way worse.”

“How is that worse?” Gamora looked down at her book, not seeing the words printed before her. “Maybe I deserve it.”

“Oh, no, Gamora, no way.” Peter immediately moved to sit across from her, their legs brushing once again. “You can't think like that, okay? You're super amazing, and a badass hero. Thanos did some really shady stuff to you and Nebula, and you came out of it wanting to help people.”

She smiled despite herself. “You don't have to be so kind, Quill. I'm not actually your girlfriend.”

“No, but you're kind of my best friend,” Peter confessed rather shyly. “Well, unless Yondu helps me get a pretty big score. Then he's my best friend for like, a few days. But usually it's you.”

“Oh.” Gamora didn't know what to say. “I don't know how to be a best friend.”

“You don't have to know how to be one, you just are one. Here.” Peter pressed a small object into her hands. “I found this in that haul Rocket got from his trip to Halfworld. It's some modified Terran weapon.”

Gamora turned it over in her hands, feeling the grooves of the small metal item. It appeared to be a simple pocket knife, until her finger grazed one of the buttons and a series of small weapons popped out from the side, including a lock pick and a laser.

“I don't know how effective it actually is,” Peter admitted, “but I have no use for it. I'm more of a guns guy. So, um, happy one-week-fake-relationship anniversary?”

“Oh,” Gamora said again. “I don't have anything for you.”

He chuckled. “It's not really for that. I just thought you might want it. Anyways, I’ve said my piece. Are you still, uh, mad at me?”

She smiled softly, running her finger along the blade. It was dull, but with a little work, it could prove useful. “I am always a little bit mad at you. But no. Not anymore.” Then she sighed, releasing a breath she didn't know she was holding in. “Pitiful, isn't it? It’s the first Friday night since we got here that I haven't been able to play a show at Club Galaxy. Instead, we’re stuck here. No missions, either.”

“We could always ‘borrow’ a Quinjet,” Peter suggested impishly. “We’ll get you those new amps, Gamora. But in the meantime, maybe talk to Vision, see if he'll take the night off from DJing and let you do a set at Club A.”

“I suppose if I borrow one of the Winter Soldier’s guitars, it could work,” she said thoughtfully. “You’ve been having a decent amount of good ideas lately.”

Peter puffed his chest out exaggeratedly. “Damn straight.” He tilted his head, considering Gamora carefully. Her hair was plaited with some of Groot’s flowers woven in, the stark white of the petals contrasting the dark reddish-purple tones of her hair. She looked quite soft, and Peter almost wanted to reach out and touch it if not for the fear of losing his arm from the elbow down. “So, you still think this fake relationship thing is a good idea?”

“It was technically Rocket’s idea, not yours,” she teased. “I am worried about the repercussions, but I suppose in the end, it's no different than taking on galaxy-wide missions. Thanos will be a threat regardless. At least this way, we will earn money with little effort.”

“That's more like it,” Peter declared, standing up. “You planning on going back to the dorms? I can walk you back.” Gamora raised an eyebrow. “Okay, more like I'll walk back with you.”

“I'm too sleepy to bother,” she admitted. “My bed here, although awful, is sometimes more comforting than the one in my dorm.” She watched as Peter walked to the door, and worried at her bottom lip. “What was that movie? The one with the rats and the poison and the sword fighting?”

“Of course that's how you remember The Princess Bride,” Peter laughed, shaking his head as he turned back around to face her. “You liked that one?”

“Yes.” Gamora nodded, setting the small weapon aside and shutting her book. “I wouldn't mind watching it again.”

He tilted his head again as he assessed her, curious about what she was up to. Was Gamora volunteering to spend time with him that had nothing to do with school or Guardians business? “I'll go grab the tape,” Peter said, fondness seeping into his voice. It made Gamora feel oddly warm. After he disappeared, she laid back onto her bed and stared up at the ceiling, where Peter had put glow-in-the-dark puffy stickers in the shapes of constellations (“I have too many,” he had said, “unless I wanna wallpaper the place with ‘em.”). They were quite inaccurately placed, as she later learned when consulting the Terran night sky in one of Odin’s lectures, but she remembered the nervous smile on Peter’s face as he stepped back to turn off the light and admire his handiwork (“Well? What do you think?”).

“You are a strange one, Peter Quill,” Gamora murmured to herself, folding her hands over her chest.

______

The next morning delved into complete and utter chaos. Although Gamora had been hoping for a relatively calm Saturday for finishing her homework and getting a training session in at the Combat Simulator, she was instead unceremoniously woken up by the sound of Rocket racing through the Milano, his claws clicking frantically on the metal floor plates, yelling about how the Sovereign had come back.

“Where's Adam?” Peter exclaimed as he burst out of his room, hastily yanking a shirt on. “If his damn sister is involved - ”

“Of course it's his sister, who else in the Sovereign would care enough to attack us again?!” The sounds of crashing and metal items tumbling everywhere echoed through the ship. “Dammit, we’re gonna have to haul the weapons to one of the Quinjets.”

“I’ll contact Stark.” Gamora raced up the ladder to the cockpit, ignoring Rocket’s protests, to settle down into her chair and pull up Tony’s contact. “Stark, it’s Gamora. The Sovereign are about to attack the school again. We need to find Warlock and get him over here to us, and we need to borrow a Quinjet since the Milano is down.”

“Understood, I've already sent him a message and he should be on his way,” Tony said, his voice crackling sharply over the malfunctioning comms system. “I'll get Pepper to send over the Quinjet access codes, and a couple bots to get you guys some more of those intergalactic weapons I built from last time.”

Gamora let out a sigh of relief. “Thank you, Stark.”

“Let's get it done,” Tony said confidently. “Hey, so what's this I’m hearing about you and Peter? I was under the impression he was a ladies’ man like me. Not to knock you, of course, if I had the chance to date a girl like you I would take it, but - ”

“And you've ruined it,” Gamora said dryly, rolling her eyes. “Goodbye, Stark.”

______

Fifteen minutes later, the Guardians were wheels up on one of the Quinjets, with Adam not too far behind. As always, Rocket and Peter were at the controls with Gamora assisting with navigation. Mantis was attempting to comfort Groot, who was cranky from being woken up and scared at the prospect of another attack, and Drax was attempting to organize the frankly ridiculous amount of weapons that Rocket had brought and Tony had provided. The Sovereign were descending from above as they always did by the hundreds, with completely empty, remote-piloted craft, identical haughty expressions of arrogance on every screen.

“I thought she was gonna leave us alone,” Adam said over the comms. “I'll talk to her, I promise.”

“How does she even have lackeys left? I thought she pissed off all the other priestesses with her attitude,” Peter said, dodging an incoming blast. Rocket let out a manic laugh as he shot down the Sovereign craft that had been responsible for it.

“She really wants the Infinity Gauntlet,” Adam sighed, his exhale causing the speakers to emit sudden, sharp feedback. Gamora winced and moved to adjust the volume dials. “Hey, Gamora, by the way, if you have some free time after this, I heard you were having trouble with the equipment at Club Galaxy. Do you want some help? I am, after all, a cosmic rock god.”

“That’s debatable,” Peter muttered under his breath, reaching to check the Quinjet’s thruster levels. There was no guarantee they could climb as high as they usually would with the Milano, but damn if he wasn’t going to try.

“I suppose you could take a look, but they’re basically dead,” Gamora said. She paused to cling at her armrests as the ship was rattled by another near-miss of a shot. “Thank you, though. I was going to see if the Winter Soldier had an acoustic guitar I could borrow for the time being, and play a show at Club A while I wait for some money.”

Adam snorted. “No offense to Bucky, but the acoustic guitar? That’s not your thing, Gamora. You freaking melt faces when you shred on your guitar, sometimes literally. Let me take a look at your equipment. Tonight at 8?”

“Are we really having this conversation right now?” Rocket hollered. “We got some Sovereign douchebags making a go for the dorms!” He proceeded to gun down another five craft with a strong cry of victory.

“I’ll see you then,” Gamora said quickly before cutting the communication line. She looked up to see that Peter had tried his best to maneuver the Quinjet perpendicular to the ground, with little success. It simply wasn’t built for the same purpose as the Milano, as powerful as it may be. “Quill, this isn’t going to work.”

“It’s gonna work,” Peter insisted. “As long as I keep flying and Rocket keeps shootin’, we’ll - SON OF A - !”

Gamora could only watch in horror as the glass in front of Peter’s face was struck by about five energy blasts at once, piercing a hole clean through and sending a spray of shards everywhere. It was only Peter’s and Rocket’s self-preservation instincts to duck and screw their eyes shut that prevented them from being horribly injured, though she could see bits embedding themselves in Peter’s skin and Rocket’s fur.

She shot out of her seat and ran for the front, hollering back to Drax to take her position, grabbing the controls from Peter as the Quinjet tumbled hopelessly, rolling and causing Rocket to be flung out of his seat and slammed into the wall beside him, knocking him out. Drax was trying desperately to get in contact with the Director, Pepper, Maria, anyone, and Mantis was frantically shushing Groot, who had started to cry.

Peter managed to scramble himself back up properly, though he appeared to be bleeding from several little cuts along his forehead and hands. Gamora had no time to ask him he if he was okay, though, pushing the controls back into his hands and running over to scoop up Rocket and set him down on one of the passenger benches, strapping him in so he wouldn’t roll around.

“We’re gonna crash-land, Gamora,” Peter called to her, and his voice was much weaker than she wanted to hear. There was a raspiness that made her eyes wander to his throat, causing her heart to leap once more - tiny bits of glass, embedded in his neck.

“Shh, don’t talk, Quill,” she said desperately as she ran back to fling herself into Rocket’s seat. “Just get us back on the ground, and we’ll let the others take it from here, okay?”

Energy blasts continued to rattle the Quinjet around, rolling til they were nearly flipped upside down, causing Drax to let out an alarmed shout from behind as he clung onto his armrests for dear life. He managed to mash the buttons to get him back to the comm line. “HELLO? IS ANYONE THERE? WE ARE ABOUT TO DIE!”

“Not on my watch,” Peter rasped, leaning forward to put some weight on his elbows, forcing strength back into his arms long enough to direct the Quinjet downwards onto one of the open fields of the Academy’s campus. “Strap...in.”

“Warlock is back on the ground,” a voice finally said, filled with static. It vaguely sounded like Maria Hill. “Agent 13 is leading a fleet of SHIELD agents up to the battle, and they’re loaded with enough atmospheric smoke bombs to drive the Sovereign away. Get yourself on land, now, Guardians.”

“Wha’d’ya think we’re tryin’ to do,” Peter wheezed, glancing over to watch Gamora shooting down about six more Sovereign craft. “G’mora…’m angling us downwards now...try not to blast anything.”

“What? No, we have to - ”

She was cut off by her own anguished yell as a rather large piece of glass tore through her thigh, pinning her to the seat. An immediate agonizing heat flared up in her leg and made its way up her torso, causing her stomach to roll, threatening to empty its contents everywhere. Screwing her eyes shut, she let go of the controls and turned herself away from the dashboard as much as she could. For an agonizing two minutes, all she could hear was Peter’s laboured breathing, Groot’s frantic cries, and the constant, crushing sounds of the Quinjet being torn apart, whizzing past her ears dizzyingly, endlessly.

The last thing she remembered was choking on her own breath as smoke filled the Quinjet’s cabin before she blacked out.

a/n: whoops there goes another destroyed ship and it’s only been three chapters, guardians wyd

also i admittedly know very little about adam, so 100% of his characterization is from the game, where he’s a rockstar who wants to help the guardians defeat his sister, and that’s basically it.

[melyaliz]

Normal

Summary: All Gigi wanted was that normal life everyone talked about. But it’s hard to know what that’s like when your life is so unordinary.

Set in the Young Justice Universe 

Notes: Was going to write the next chapter of Suprise but then got caught in a conversation with @speedypan and this happened... I put a little more information in here than I normally would because I’m still working on publishing these characters back stories so the time lines are a little out of whack. Sorry if things are confusing. 

Faith (Guardian Angel) more stories here. Also side note, Jennifer is Faith’s older sister who is taking care of her after the death of their parents. 

Gigi (Plastic-girl) only has one other story 

Maia (Willow) is owned by @batlog more stuff with her here and here 

Also a bit clunky in the middle.... it’s late and I kept adding stuff in. 

Gigi studied the cracks on the ceiling for a moment, finding one that looked like a clown’s face complete with large nose “I… I just do things, stupid things and I think ‘no normal person would do that” She turned her head toward Jennifer “I even started watching Reality TV to see how they did it, but Guardian Angel told me that wasn’t really true reality.”

Jennifer tried to suppress a laugh, “Yeah, but what about the kids at your school?”

“They are pretty cool, I guess you could call them normal. I’m a cheerleader and I met this guy who’s really normal. It’s just when someone asks’ me how my day was I never seem to be able to just say ‘just normal’”

“What do you say?”

Gigi jumped up excited, “All the amazing things that happen! Like today this one guy who plays the tuba told this really funny joke…”

“Sorry,” Gigi said laying back on the couch folding her hands over her stomach.

“You know, you don’t have to lay like that,” Jennifer said

“Really? Isn’t this how it’s normally done?”

“You can do whatever you want here, be whoever you want.” Jennifer studied the red-haired girl, “Who do you want to be Gigi?” 

Their conversation was cut off by Faith walked in throwing herself on the couch basically laying on top of her best friend, "hey sis, use your big brain to tell me my future." The red haired girl's eyes grew a little bigger than was normal for a regular human, it probably had something to do with her ability to stretch.

"You can do that?" She gasped

Jennifer just laughed throwing a pillow at Faith which the girl caught easily, "Get out of here you goofs."

After her session with her psychiatrist Gigi or, known by most of her friends at the Young Justice HQ, Plastic-girl headed over to the Young Justice HQ. Her mother had suggested she go to the psychiatrist after learning that Jennifer O’Neal had specialized in super powered kids. Gigi had been born with her powers and had grown up going from superpowered group to group being taught how to control them. In her mother’s words, her life had never been normal. So now that she was going to a “normal” high school and doing normal teen stuff. It was all she wanted to be.

Normal.

“We’re HERE!” Plastic-girl sang as she walked into the large headquarters. Guardian Angel or, as most just called her, Angel smiled waving as she bounced from foot to food. A small group of heroes stood in the briefing room. Impulse, Blue Beetle and Willow. Willow was a few years older than the other teens and had just returned from a 10-year mission. Where she had gone, no one knew, but Faith and Gigi would come up with their own theories. They ranged from saving Santa and -by default- Christmas (Gigi’s favorite) to fighting Ninjas in the center of the earth (Faith’s favorite).

Impulse ran up to meet them, a large smile on his face that matched Plastic-girl’s.

“Impulse! How are you? Did you have a good week? Tell me everything about your life!”

“Total crash! I spent it with Grandpa and learning all this stuff about this time! You guys are so retro!“

“Ohhh have you tried ice-cream yet my favorite is mocha chocolate chip with strawberry frosting and extra sprinkles!”

Willow watched as if unsure of the flavor choice, “I can’t decide if that sounds good or not” she finally admitted. 

“It’s not great…” Angel said shaking her head still trying to get the taste from last week out of her mouth. Never again... never. 

“What did you do this week Plastic-girl?” Impulse asked

“OMG So many amazing things! Totally normal stuff. Went to a pep rally and I was on the bottom because of my AMAZING strength! Everything went totally normal! No mistakes at all!”

“Why would you want normal? You’re a superhero?” Blue Beetle asked an eyebrow cocked.

“Because, normal is great, I like normal.”

They didn’t get to talk much after that because they called to the briefing room before.

It was just a recon mission. Stealth to just get a few items.

Plastic-girl was chatting with Angel about her totally amazingly normal weekend over the mic when Impulse's hand was over her mouth as he motioned for her to be quite. A few feet away two guards were walking by.

Ever alert, Plastic girl stretched her ear across the wall trying to catch what they were saying. However her hazel eyes couldn’t seem to take themselves off the boy in front of her, there it was, that look that bothered he so much. 

Plastic-girl had only joined the Young Justice League a few months ago and while everyone was amazing the boy in front of her was someone who stood out to her. Something about the way he talked and moved. It was as if sometimes nothing seemed wrong than someone would happen and he would trip over his words or seem to back peddle. 

Growing up in the superpowered world Plastic-girl was use to seeing many strange things and people. But with Impulse, it was different. 

 To her, he seemed like a song that was just slightly off key.

“We have a problem” Willow’s voice crackled over the mic, a few yells could be heard in the background.

“I’m close,” Angel’s voice said before there was some gunshots and screaming. Impulse dashed off leaving poor Plastic-girl to run - much slower- behind.

When she got there she found a pile of heavily armored guards laying around the floor. Willow and Impulse standing by while Angel stood holding an unloaded rifle across her shoulders.

“You’re friend is kind…. Intense.” Willow whispered to Plastic-girl as one last guard charged at the small brunette. Angle whorled around swinging the gun’s butt across the guy's face with a sickening crack instantly knocking him out. His nose was broken for sure.

“What?” Angel asked turning to the team, “I’m short…” as if this was an explanation for her slightly dirty fighting technique. Shrugging Willow decided they had better hurry up and leave before more guards ended with broken body parts.

It only took a few moments for them to get back to their small ship and silently fly away. Willow going over the recon plans while the younger heroes talked among themselves.

The team was able to get the items they needed while also learning that the company, a medical research lab, had been testing chemicals to enhance humans. Using stolen blood and samples from kids like Plastic-girl who were born with their powers. They still weren’t sure where they had gotten the samples from but Kaldur said he hoped the information they had stolen would tell them.

“Ask her…” Plastic-girl’s voice took Willow out of her thoughts. 

“If you want to know so bad you ask her,” Angel said tapping her foot as she glanced outside the ship. From her seat in front of them, Willow turned.

“Ask who what?”

“Plastic wants to know what Santa was like,” Angel said with the largest mischievous smile on her face.

“What?”

“Santa.” Plastic-girl said, her face completely seriously while Angel tried to fight back laughter, “When you saved him... “

“When…”

“On your mission” Angel added for context, “You saved Santa and Christmas, right? That’s where you were for 10 years”

Across from the Plastic-girl Impulse burst out laughing and Blue Beetle just sat there mouth hanging open. “Is she joking?” he asked looking at Angel who shook her head.

“I mean… Santa lives in an alternate universe so 10 years would feel like a week…” Plastic-girl said calmly explaining her theory, “how else does he give presents all over the world.”

“Wait… wouldn’t it be the other way around? Like 10 years there would be a week here?” Impulse asked now wrapped up in the theory. Blue Beetle sat there completely perplexed trying to keep up or just understand while Angel sat back watching totally enjoying the insanity unfolding while. 

“I think time is just different there?” Angel offered. 

“Yeah,” Willow said nodding, “Time was just different there.”

Plastic-girl turned to her, eyes wide with excitement, “so you….”

“Totally did.”

“HA! I told you!” Plastic-girl said pointing a very comically large finger at Angel. (After all, with the power to stretch your body to crazy sizes and shapes what other use is there than to gloat to your friend that you had been right all along?) The brunette just shrugged.

“I never really doubted you.”  

After solving this amazing mystery both younger girls continued their many theories conversation as Willow went to give the information they got to Kaldur. Soon the conversation turned to Impulse. Gigi explaining her thoughts on Impulse and how there was something off about him  Mine as well solve the other mystery in her life. 

Why the youngest speedster seemed so… off beat.

“He’s not like you, you also seem too easy when you move while I feel like Impulse trips over himself or something… I don’t know… I can’t place it… ya know. It’s just not normal.”

“I mean he is from another time.” Faith said Gigi could tell she was mulling over her friend’s words. Thinking about all the times they had hung out and he had seemed off. “But if it’s bugging you why not ask him?” she added spinning around so she was facing Gigi while walking backward down the main hall. 

Their conversations was cut short by the short brunette almost bumping into the boy in question. It would have been a total collision but at the last moment, she dogged him without even looking. Sometimes Gigi was convinced her friend had eyes in the back of her head.

“Oh look! There he is… k see ya Plastic!” She sang off key as she skipped off to meet up with Robin and Nightwing to go back to Gotham.

“Huh?” Impulse asked watching Guardian Angel wave before meeting up with her little bat-team. Turning back to Gigi the speedster smiled.

“Are you sad?” Gigi blurted out. After all, the blunt truth had worked before.

“What?” the boy asked totally taken aback.

“I mean… like you are always smiling and laughing and acting like you don’t know what’s going on. But you seem to stumble into good things… and not like Faith who seems to dodge everything… it looks like it’s an accident but it’s not? Also, your eyes don’t smile… Are you sad?” It all made sense to her but poor Bart had no idea what the red haired girl was talking about. All her words, pouring out and mixed togeather. Or maybe he did, maybe he knew what she was saying and didn’t want to admit it. After all, can’t crash the mode.

So just brushed her off he shrugged, “haha I don’t know what you are talking about. Hey, got to go meet up with Gramps but catch you on the next mission!” he dashed off only to come back for a moment, “also, great job today! I like working with you!” then he was gone.

Gigi sighed, better be off too. She was a little annoyed? No, something else, she couldn't quite pinpoint it. Sure she wasn’t like Angel and her soul readingness, but she knew it when someone was faking. Hiding something deep from the world around them. Acting like everything was peachy keen when it wasn’t

As Gigi passed the kitchen the news was on. 

“And I can’t stress enough that she is NOT my prodigy,” Plastic-mam said on the screen, Gigi’s eyes flickered to the TV as her childhood idol spoke to the press, “whether or not these allegations about her being one of those that have been born with powers... mutants or whatever she may be. I don’t train kids and if she is a mutant, I urge those in charge of the teen heroes to take the proper precautions until we understand this gene better.” And with that, he turned his back on the reporters. Being swallowed up like by the crowd of inquisitors. She knew what it was like to act like everything was peachy keen, because even if her life wasn’t as bad as many of the other kids here, sometimes she felt like she could hide her feelings the best.