#and again the running through line is I love a genius petty bitch

[firelise]

pick a girlie...

[ladycatofwinterfell]

I suppose it's once again time to put myself through writing my thoughts on the episode. So here is me doing that.

Thoughts on episode 7!

Pain and suffering. That's it. That's the post. Is what I would have said if I was able to shut up about anything ever. But unfortunately I’m not.

Well, first of all I would like to say that everyone in this episode should be given an Emmy. They were all so insanely good. Delainey, Jacob, Sam, Assad, Ben, Roxane, Eric. They all brought their absolute best and this episode would not have been this good without them. I’d like to Emmy nominate Sam Reid’s hair, as well. It’s basically its own character at this point.

And now when that had been put out there let's move on to the actual episode. I barely know where to begin and I already feel that this will be incomprehensible because dear lord in heaven jesus fucking christ am i feeling feelings.

The torture before the trial was so hard to watch. Throwing Claudia in the rat box she had been made to manage for them. Chekhov's gun, I suppose. I should have seen it coming.

Having the trial as a play and performing it on a stage in front of a live audience is fucking genius. It heightens the sheer horror of it so much, highlights how performance and ways of presenting something can lure the audience. Weren't we the ones sitting by that stage, watching them? Is that not what we've been doing all season? Have we been tricked by performances and angles and particular story telling? Brilliant, I love it.

They cut the ankle tendons. They made it impossible to run. They beat the fuck out of them beforehand. Each time they spoke they used their collective power to disrupt their minds and create a pressure so great Claudia got a nosebleed and blood vessels in Louis' left eye popped. They produced a nice little film and a nice little story full of racist caricatures and stereotypes so that Lestat could be victimised. Everyone knows what’s going to happen because everyone has read the script, they all have lines and cues but Louis, Claudia and Madeleine do not. They are not characters, they’re props. Fuck these vampires. I like that the show doesn't shy away from how ugly this is, they show us their bleeding ankles several times, make us be in the heads of Louis and Claudia as they experience the psychic assault from the coven, we are forced to watch as the audience verbally stones them. It tries to make us uncomfortable and it is really uncomfortable. This is, above all, an uncomfortable watch.

They are broken on stage. They are broken and Louis knows that he is coming. There is no escaping him. He will always come hunting them down. A presence, a familiar scent. Lestat de Lioncourt. He’s been looming in the background all season and now he’s back and in typical Lestat fashion he cannot enter a room quietly.

I know I wrote this in a post already but I enjoyed Lestat reading the homophobe to filth, I thought it was fun. I also thought it was very very telling for Lestat that he reacted that way only when it was an insult partly leveled at him and not solely at Louis and/or Claudia. He goes off script there, breaks character to take revenge. Always the petty slights with you, Uncle Les. Because he is a petty fucking bitch. Upon a rewatch I also noticed that the homophobe reacted similarly, although quietly, when Lestat was talking of Nicolas so that was a nice touch.

He also breaks character when it comes to Louis. He affirms his love for Louis and he admits to having done horrible things to him. He admits to having tried to break Louis because he couldn't own him. He admits to dropping him and not doing anything to catch him because he wanted to hurt him. And he regrets it, he feels guilty over it, he's pained by it. He doesn't apologise for it, emphasises that he doesn't deserve forgiveness for it, and that there is nothing worse than what he did. And this is Lestat. He's not the victim, like whoever orchestrating the whole thing (*cough* Armand *cough*) tries to make him out to be for the sake of the trial. No matter how absolutely deranged Louis got during their fight, no matter how much he fought back, it was not a situation of mutual abuse. Lestat was always the one in power. Though he's also not evil. He knows what he's done, he knows he was wrong to do it, and he knows he cannot make up for it. And this is not only a matter of in universe role reversal, this is also something the fandom it guilty of. I've seen so many posts about how Louis' story doesn't hold up at all and just wait until Lestat finally gets to tell his version, then we'll get the truth. And he tells his story and he admits to the abuse. The parts where he goes away from the script written for him are from what we know at the moment the closest we get to the real him. And the real him is sometimes just awful. But the real him is, as I said, also not evil. The real him loves very hard and is pained by his own failures. I've read almost 7 (insane. why do i do that) of the vampire chronicles books now and I'm very satisfied with this portrayal of Lestat, I think it's book accurate even as others seem to disagree. I’m also very much looking forward to what they will do with him if we get a season 3.

I like Lestat, I think it's a joy every time he's on screen and I was excited to have him back for this episode. He’s my favourite character in the books. That and I would strangle him if I ever got the chance. I contain multitudes.

Now, do I think Lestat was on that stage because he really wanted to be on that stage? No. I think he's on that stage because he was made to go on it. I think he's reciting his lines because he was persuaded into doing so. Maybe by... I don't know, Armand? Perhaps. Because let's be fucking real here, the by far oldest and most powerful vampire in that theatre was not held back by fear of the vampire Sam. They put him in the theatre equivalent of those little pens you put babies in and that stopped him? Oh no he was put in time out so he can’t do anything :( He made an entire restaurant stop and sent all members of the coven to sleep at once, he did not need all his power to make the audience say banishment instead of death for Louis. He could have prevented it. He could have saved Claudia. But why would he since he's the architect of her destruction? I'm willing to bet on that he wrote the play. And I'm willing to bet Lestat's not chilling out in a dungeon because he really wants to, it doesn't feel that much like him. And Armand in Dubai talking about Lestat taking familiar parts of Louis' life and twisting them to serve himself. SOUNDS LIKE SOMEONE ELSE I KNOW. He’s insane. Clinically insane. Balls to the walls batshit bonkers. And I love him and his kicked puppy eyes. He’s very very dear to me and I hope he never stops being insane. Just like with Lestat he’s not evil, he just needs Louis with him because he now doesn’t know how to go forward without Louis’ love and Claudia was threatening that. With all that said Lestat is absolutely not without blame for this situation. Not in the least. There are several people to blame for this and he’s one of them.

Speaking of Dubai. Lovely that Daniel is still at it. Love that. But also. Hallucination of Lestat in Dubai? Hallucination of Lestat never left? Hallucination of Lestat is something Louis can never be rid of as long as he's not actually in the presence of Lestat? Thanks. I'm going to kill myself. I know that I myself have taken Dubai as an absolute truth, that what happens there is something we know to be true while the rest can always be doubted. And now we can't be sure anymore and I'm once again taken by the genius of this show. Also taken by how Lestat and Louis really are soulmates in the worst possible way. They were made in hell for one another, their existences revolved around one another from the moment they met. Can they ever escape that? Probably not. Even as they're destroying themselves and everyone around them. They will always love each other even as they hate each other and they can't exist without the other. Which is cool. Fine, even. Doesn't at all make me want to drink poison. Loustat forever (threat).

Louis beginning to remember more and more that was unknown to him or had in some way been altered is very touching. He wants to tell the truth, he’s not actively trying to deceive anyone, but he doesn’t always know the truth himself. And sometimes he does downplay his own role in things more or less consciously because he can’t cope with his own actions but even then he returns to wanting the truth. These vampires are very human. The overall narrative is still not the entire truth but we’re moving towards it. Louis cannot be controlled forever, he cannot have his own life kept from him forever.

I’ve already touched a little on the fight, maybe I should also talk about the other revisited scene. How fucking insane was it to see Louis beg for Claudia, bargain for Claudia, promise to never leave Lestat if only he could have Claudia. Bartering with your presence, is that what makes you fascinating, Louis? Dragging her along the floor like a little child with its doll, it was somewhat creepy. Though just as with the fight it shows that sometimes Louis is absolutely deranged. Just as crazy as the rest of them. Love that for him. Too bad it goes out over Claudia. Him calling her their beautiful daughter as if she’s not a stranger and Lestat having to be like you don’t know this girl. Hate to give it to him, but Lestat was not wrong here. The way Claudia is so right when she says it was never about her. She’s a bandaid for a shitty marriage, she’s Louis’ chance at redemption, she’s Lestat’s mirror. And for a while they were actually happy and maybe that’s the tragedy. That it was doomed from the start, but it didn’t show immediately. That she was doomed from the start and she didn’t know it.

Claudia’s death was horrifying and I still haven’t recovered from it. I don’t know if I ever will. Singing to the audience the song they loved to hear her perform even as she hated it as they merely watch while she dies a horrible death. Looking at Lestat in her last moment. A scared child who is in extraordinary amounts of pain and knows she will die, looking to her father in a cry for help. Because even as she hates him he’s the one of those still on the stage that she most trusts. All through the episode she’s been defiant. Guess it was weird to start from her death and then move backwards, but it really stuck with me. She tries to talk back and they immediately punish her for it, she even gets up on her feet and shows her anger when Lestat speaks about what he did to Louis. And she points out the hypocrisy in that Lestat can cry and say he’s sorry but she and Louis are not allowed to do the same. They’re punished for Lestat’s murder even as he’s not dead. She also points out that it’s never been about her, that it’s just another round in the stormy romance of Louis and Lestat. Not even her creation was about her. They both loved her deeply, I’m very convinced of that, but she was always the third.

I had to save Claudia and Madeleine for last because despite tough competition they were the most hurtful part of this episode for me. Claudia lived so many years without ever being anyone's first. Louis says he put her first but did he really? Was he putting her first when he let Lestat back into the house in ep6? Was he putting her first when he refused to burn Lestat in ep7? Was he putting her first when she was created? No. But she found someone who didn't hesitate to put her first. She revealed her monstrous side to Madeleine, gave her her diaries to read so that she could understand the innermost parts of her. And Madeleine didn't shy away. Madeleine was convinced in her devotion to Claudia, even when it meant her own destruction. She was given the choice between life and Claudia and she chose Claudia. When death came for Claudia it was not Louis or Lestat or the coven that stood with her, it was Madeleine. Her one true ally. They barely got any time at all together but that was the happiest time of Claudia’s life. Anyway fuck all those vampires, I’m going to hunt them for sport. Louis, Lestat, Armand, Santiago, count your fucking days. But also Claudia could have lived a longer life if she had never been made a vampire. She wasn’t even 50 when she died, that’s well within a human life span. And she spent that life being 14, never past 14. Aging in spirit, but always treated as a little girl. She died early, too soon, despite being immortal. I’m glad we didn’t hear Claudia and Madeleine’s last words to each other, it doesn’t feel like we should know. That was for them, not meant to be shared.

As I’ve read iwtv I’m aware of the overall plot beats of the last episode and I can’t wait to see how the show executes them. What I’m most curious about is how the modern plot will be resolved for now. What will become of Louis, Armand and Daniel? Will we get Lestat in the modern timeline? Will things be completely resolved there or will we be teased with setups for another season? I’m pretty sure I will be considering wandering out into the wilderness and never return no matter what.

[just-call-me-the-intrusive-thot]

Soulmate September - Day 16

Day 16 - When your soulmate listens to music or is singing, you hear it in your own head as well. (Songfic, Crazy = Genius by PATD)

Pairing(s): Romantic Intrulogical, Ambiguous/Romantic Analomus, Background Roceit [the Janus part is ambiguous but whatever], Familial Logicality, Familial Virremile, Background Remile [again hinted]

TWs: swearing, sexual themes [light but they’re there], makeouts, Remus being Remus, drunken behaviour, pyromania, vomiting [not graphic just mentioned]

–

“Either of you pyros got a lighter I can borrow?”

Logan sighed, not making much in the way of eye contact with the emo sitting in the cell next to him and his soulmate. He dug into his jean pocket and lazily tossed the lighter to the boy clad in so much black and purple he looked like the sapient embodiment of a bruise.

“Keep it.”

“Oh. You sure? This is a pretty sweet lighter-”

“I insist.”, Logan groaned, running his hands down his face, “It’s not like I’ll be needing it ever again after this.”

From beside Logan, Remus slung his arm to the side, flopping it about limply to swat at his soulmate, “Shuddafuckup”, he slurred, hauling himself upright from his slumped over position, “S’gonna be fiiiine. Roman said he’d bail us oooouuuut, so fuckin’ chill-”

“Your brother told you last week that he would give us a ride to Dairy Queen but instead he was too fucking busy getting to third base with his boyfriend!!”, Logan snapped. Ugh, he would regret that in the morning. He ran his hands through his hair anxiously slicking it back. How had the night gone wrong so fast?...

-

‘You can set yourself on fire! You can set yourself on fire!’

Logan wasn’t sure what it was about the glowing ember embrace of a flame that drew him in toward it like a moth with a death wish, but as he allowed his soulmate Remus to haul his ass towards their usual hangout with the promise of some pretty choice items to burn, he found that he couldn't care less.

As he approached the overpass with his soulmate chugging a whole half a bottle of tequila without blinking, Logan wondered how he ever survived before without this whirlwind in human form.

‘She said at night in my dreams

You dance on a tightrope of weird

Oh but when I wake up you're so normal that you just disappear

You're so straight like commuters with briefcases towing the line

There's no residue of a torturer inside your of eyes’

“Check it the fuck out, babe! Did I bring the goods or what?”, Remus grinned nearly as brightly as the shine on the rather expensive looking crimson car - he guessed it might have been a Mercedes, but car brands all looked the same to him really - parked under the overpass. Logan didn’t have a particular favourite item to burn, but when Remus walked over in his lime green hoodie that barely covered his black leather shorts and fishnets to pose seductively on top of the hood? Logan hadn’t wanted to incinerate anything more in his life.

“You… How on Earth did you come by this?!”, he ran his hand along the curve of the hood, unashamedly letting his hand roam over Remus’ thigh. 

His soulmate hummed, leaning in to steal a kiss, murmuring softly against Logan’s lips, “If I told you I might’ve hotwired it just this afternoon? Is that a turn off or a turn on?”

Goddamn him, Remus knew just how to speak right to Logan’s soul.

“The latter, and you know it.”, Logan all but growled into their kiss.

‘She said you're just like Mike

Love but you wanna be Brian Wilson, Brian Wilson

Said you're just like Mike

Love but you'll never be Brian Wilson’

In the back of his mind, Logan did wonder what his father and morally conscious little brother would think; if they knew he snuck out to satisfy his pyromania, make out with his feral cryptid of a boyfriend, and engaged in petty acts of vandalism and thievery from time to time. What would Thomas and Patton think of their stoic, orderly son and big brother who - instead of studying for his undergraduate degree in astrophysics - would rather spend the night getting dangerous and dirty alongside his soulmate who had literally just admitted to auto theft  to acquire a ridiculously expensive car for him to burn?

The thought was there for all of two seconds until Remus’ tongue licking into his mouth banished it away. The only thot he needed tonight was the one driving him crazy with a kiss alone.

‘And I said (hey ay, ay)

If crazy equals genius (hey ay, ay)

If crazy equals genius

Then I'm a fucking arsonist (hey)

I'm a rocket scientist (hey hey)

(Hey ay, ay)

If crazy equals genius (hey)

You can set yourself on fire (hey ay)

But you're never gonna burn, burn, burn (hey ay)

You can set yourself on fire (hey ay)

But you're never gonna learn, learn, learn hey!’

Knowing they came here for a reason, Logan reluctantly ended their makeout session and grabbed for his trusted blue lighter.

“How full is the gas tank?”, Logan made sure to ask, popping open the door to the driver’s side to see what was left in the car. Might as well keep anything worth selling.

“Not sure.”, Remus shrugged, twirling the keys around his finger excitedly while he finished off their first bottle of the night, “Wanna help me make sure there’s nothing left?”

‘She said darlin' you know

How the wine plays tricks on my tongue

But you don't seem to change when you stuff all of

your feelings with drugs

Other boys you may have dated serrated your heart with a slice

But the cut of your love never hurts baby, it's a sweet butter knife’

Logan wasn’t sure how Remus managed to look even more majestic every time he looked at him, but as he clung tight to the hand rest above the passenger window while his soulmate pulled off his sixteenth donut in a row, all he could think about was how lucky he was to have him. Like a trickle of water turning into a river, Logan recognised the beginning of Na Na Na starting to play in his head. Of course. He knew Remus well enough by now to know that was coming. The humming under his soulmate’s breath also gave it away somewhat. 

While Remus kept trying to empty the tank, Logan couldn’t help but feel nostalgia for their first meeting; Remus’ older brother Roman had asked Logan to stand in for the theatre department’s regular dramaturge when Logan began to hear the beginnings of Avenue Q’s The Internet Is For Porn begin to invade his mind. Luckily for him, it hadn’t taken long for Remus to saunter over and try to flirt with him, humming the exact tune Logan had been hearing the whole time.

From there, they’d begun dating though it took a good few months before Logan would join Remus in his fantastical ramblings. He lamented on how he felt trapped by a father who meant well but expected so much from him, how stifled he felt having to be a role model to his living marshmallow of a little brother. How Logan just wanted the fun, exhilaration of doing something extreme for a change.

With Remus’ encouragement, Logan opened up about his pyromaniac tendencies which his soulmate was 110% onboard with. Ever since, the underpass had become their dirty, out of the way, graffiti scarred home away from home. Where Logan could indulge the urge to burn away his stresses and lose himself in Remus’ mantra of doing whatever the fuck they wanted.

‘She said you're just like Mike

Love but you wanna be Brian Wilson, Brian Wilson

Said you're just like Mike

Love but you'll never be Dennis Wilson’

With the car finally seemingly out of gas as it shuddered to a stop, Remus fluidly slid out of the open window - you know, like a normal functional human being - and slid across the hood of the car to open the door for Logan, “Alright, time for this bitch to burn!”

Logan was more than happy to get down to the main event after doing a last quick sweep of the car. All he’d found worth keeping was the planet shaped air freshener; so sue him, the sweet scent of mixed berries was delightful. Whipping out his lighter, Logan escorted Remus a safe distance away and pulled out the hairspray he’d swiped from his room earlier. He aimed the spray towards the car - making sure it wasn’t against the wind or pointed back at himself, he preferred to keep his eyebrows, thanks - and watched as the plume of fire engulfed the car’s seat cover. 

Crackling flames. Straining metal. Hissing fabric burning to a plastic like mess. It was a symphony and Logan was it’s conductor.

With his boyfriend wrapping his arms around his shoulders, Logan tilted to kiss him once more as the heat of the fire caressed their skin. Remus’ eyes never once left Logan, seeing his soulmate delight in an act of pure mindless vandalism, watching the way Logan looked truly free, sent his heart racing. In compliment, Logan turned back to Remus, grinning already at the shades of orange and yellow that painted his handsome features. He always thought Remus was at his most beautiful that way.

‘And I said (hey ay, ay)

If crazy equals genius (hey ay, ay)

If crazy equals genius

Then I'm a fucking arsonist (hey)

I'm a rocket scientist (hey hey)

(Hey ay, ay)

If crazy equals genius (hey)

You can set yourself on fire (hey ay)

But you're never gonna burn, burn, burn (hey ay)

You can set yourself on fire (hey ay)

But you're never gonna learn, learn, learn hey!’

Logan couldn’t tell you what happened next; one minute the two of them were watching the flames while his soulmate continued his campaign to destroy his kidneys with alcohol, the next Remus was sitting in his lap leaving hickeys all over his neck while Logan let his hands roam around under Remus’ hoodie. In the back of his mind, Logan could make out the beginning of a song he didn’t recognise at first, but as the lyrics kicked in, he let out a breathy chuckle. Of course, trust Remus to pick a thematic piece of music for the night’s events. As the song got louder - and Remus marked him more needily - Logan found he rather liked the song. He’d have to ask Remus what it was called later.

‘You can set yourself on fire (hey)

You can set yourself on fire (hey)

You can set yourself on fire (hey)

You can set yourself on fire’

The next thing either of them knew, there was a vague clattering noise followed by a  thunderous metallic bang. Followed by another, then another. One after another for a total of seven times before it finally quieted down. No music, no bang, just the fire crackling away. Thoroughly shaken, Remus and Logan untangled themselves from each other, the former demanding all too loudly, “What the creme fresh fuck was that?!”

“I-! I have no idea-”, Logan began. There wasn’t anything that would’ve done that inside the car, he’d checked. However, as he rounded the car, giving the flames a wide berth, Logan noticed someone laying on the ground on the other side of the car; dressed in a dark, patchy hoodie and ripped jeans, a plume of purple dyed frizzy hair poking out from the hood. He looked like your run of the mill emo. For a second, Logan was worried he and Remus would have to dispose of a body, but fortunately the young man groaned and began to sit up. To his side, Logan winced at a metallic glint blinding his vision.

The spray can doing so had clearly rolled out of the bag full of other cans, all in different colours. At least now Logan could put a face to the rather beautiful graffiti that tattooed the underpass as well as what had exploded in the fire as he noted the burst open paint cans under the car.

“Are you alright? What the hell happened?”, Logan questioned firmly, though he knew the disoriented emo on the ground likely couldn’t answer right away. He assumed from the way the young man rubbed the back of his head that he’d taken a rather nasty fall. The anxious artist seemed to remember exactly where he was, eyes blown wide in fear, 

“Dude, get outta here quick-”

“There he is!”

Three officers rushed towards the two of them prompting the emo and Logan to make a break for it, being sure not to run into the inferno. Remus pretty quickly got the idea and joined the two of them. It seemed neither of the three of them knew exactly where they were trying to run to, but a silent, unspoken agreement saw them all heading for the same direction. Looking back on it, Logan wondered if parting ways and heading for his car with Remus could’ve at least seen them with a better chance of getting away. 

But hindsight is a bitch that wakes up seven hours late and didn’t even bother to bring Starbucks. 

‘And I said (hey ay, ay)

If crazy equals genius (hey ay, ay)

If crazy equals genius

Then I'm a fucking arsonist (hey)

I'm a rocket scientist (hey hey)

(Hey ay, ay)

If crazy equals genius (hey)’

Before long, all Logan could hear was his sneakers scraping the ground and his own breathing competing against his heartbeat to dominate his ears. The urge to stop and breathe was intense but it felt as though doing just that would send the world crashing down around them. 

Of course, prolonged exercise and a stomach full of alcohol wasn’t the best combination. 

“‘M gonna fuckin’ puke-!”, Remus huffed, trying to cover his mouth with his hand. 

“Just hold on, Remus, we’re-!”

Logan watched in horror as his soulmate stopped to empty his stomach, unintentionally doing so in a way that blocked off the hoodie clad young man trying his best to keep up.

“Ah sHIT-!”

He didn’t need to look back; the clattering of the satchel, the mutual yelps of surprise and pain, Logan kept running even as two of the officers apprehended his soulmate and the hooded lad. The guilt would catch up to Logan before the third officer did, or it would have if he didn’t mistime his turning around the next corner only to end up nearly getting run over. How poetic; from making out on a car hood to being cuffed against one. Had Remus not been busy insulting the officers’ mothers rather colourfully, Logan theorised he would’ve no doubt made some innuendo about it.

Exhausted from their chase and thoroughly cuffed, all Logan could do was let himself be loaded into the back of the cop car with Remus and the anxious emo.

‘You can set yourself on fire (hey ay)

But you're never gonna burn, burn, burn (hey ay)

You can set yourself on fire (hey ay)

But you're never gonna learn, learn, learn hey!’ 

-

“Mmm… Logan, can you-”, Remus burped a little too wetly for it not to make Logan feel as queasy as Remus looked, “Can you stroke my hair? Pleeeeeease?”

Sighing in that playful kind of annoyance only true love can allow, Logan did as asked. The night may wind up with him being harshly reprimanded by his father and possibly losing his come-and-go privileges, but at least for now he had Remus.

“...... I’m sorry.”, came the rough voice of the emo in the cell next to theirs, “You both wouldn’t be stuck here if it wasn’t for me.”

Remus just gave a dismissive grunt in reply while Logan assured their cell companion, “While you may have led the police to us, I doubt our proclivity for fiery vandalism would’ve kept going undetected forever.”, he looked the emo up and down, “Might I ask,...?”

“Virgil.”

“Virgil,”, Logan repeated, “Might I ask how you ended up stumbling across us?”

Virgil shrugged, “I’ve been painting the underpass for years. Pretty much everything down there’s something I’ve done.”. 

He chewed the inside of his cheek, “I had a shitty night so I came down to paint something when I walked in on you two getting all ‘friendly’,”, he airquoted, “So I went to go home but I got stopped by an officer and started panicking. So I just…. ran.”

His posture curled a little while he twirled Logan’s lighter between his fingers in a stimming action, “Then I realised I was way too fucking close to the fire and I blacked out.”, Virgil embarrassedly pulled his hood up, “Fire scares the shit outta me, always has. Next thing I knew, I woke up with you staring at me. You both know the rest.”

Logan nodded quietly. It really did fill in a few gaps, “I can’t blame you for not wanting to stick around. I do apologise that we inadvertently ruined your night.”

Virgil shrugged, “Eh, it’s alright, it’s just gonna suck having to have my dads bail me out again. Not that dad would mind but pops will probably gimme another lecture about ‘unhealthy coping habits’ again....”

At that, they sat for the most part in silence. Then that song began to trickle into Logan’s brain again. As nice as it had been in accompaniment to their antics before, Logan found it almost grating now. He sighed and gently nudged Remus, 

“Re-”

“Logan, babe,”, Remus groaned, beating him to the punch, “Can you fuckin’ give it a rest with the music? M’fuckin’ head hurts.”

“....But you’re the one who’s been thinking about that song, right!?”, Logan’s concern was obvious. Remus caught on as well.

“No!? I thought it was you!?”, he sloppily hauled himself onto Logan’s lap, pressing their foreheads together, “Issokay babe, I won’t let-”, he stifled a burp though it did nothing to save Logan from Remus’ drunken breath, “Won’t let fate change our soul bond! I’ll fuckin- I’ll whip out my brain surgery skills right here if I gotta-”

“Remus!”, Logan sternly held him back a little, “Calm down, let’s just try and think rationally, okay!?”

“.... Have you ever MET me, you stupid sexy science bitch?”, Remus cackled at the alliteration.

“Please be serious for once.”, Logan sighed, fixing his glasses in a self calming gesture, “Do you know the name of the song in your head?”

“Yeah, iss fuckin’ um...”, Remus clicked his fingers in thought, trying to place it, “S’fuckin Scream In The Club, or some shit who sings it...”

“..... You mean, Panic At The Disco?”, came Virgil’s voice from the neighbouring cell.

Remus pointed dramatically, “THATS THE BITCH!”. He put his fist to his chest to stifle another burp, instead taking a second to turn and spit out some of the awful taste on his tongue, “Fuckin’... the lyrics were like…. “You can set yourself-””

“- On fire?!”, Virgil finished, looking rather interested in the conversation now.

Logan nodded between the two of them, “Yes, that’s the same opening line I remember. Virgil, I take it you’re familiar with the song?”

“Well yeah, and I’ll do you one better. Uh,....”, he rubbed the back of his neck nervously, “I’ve had that song stuck in my head all night.”

Remus and Logan shared a look of shock. Could Virgil really be their soulmate? It would explain the times when they would hear music that didn’t seem to line up with each other’s tastes. Before Logan could propose a test, Remus was way ahead of him; he rolled his eyes as the music flooded into his skull. 

Virgil brightened up, “Ashnikko, huh? Good choice-”

“HOLY SHIT, LOGAN, WE GOT-! WE GOT ANOTHER ONE!!”, Remus screeched, wriggling excitedly in Logan’s lap, almost causing his boyfriend to drop him.

“Indeed.”, Logan sighed fondly as he tried to get Remus to sit back down on the bench instead of his lap, “So now you better call Roman and see if he can bail us ALL out..”

----------

... I know I won’t probably be able to catch up but hell with it, I love some of the prompt ideas, I’ll just stop tagging the blog if I run over at this point.

A big thanks to @accidental-sanders for the idea for this one, it was really fun to do.

@tsshipmonth2020

Taglist: @somehow-i-got-an-account   @cateye-glasses   @fandomsofrandom

[enigma-im]

Twelfth day of Christmas...

Trope: Mutual pining Relationship: Robot x Human Word count: 6,589

The bell chimes from the door. Without missing a beat I continue welding the derby car in front of me. It doesn't take a genius to realize who is here at such a ridiculous hour. Tenna just has to wait till I'm finished fixing up Bruce's dumpster car. Sparks fly off the dented pieces of metal, splashing around in wonderous fireworks. If the sight wasn't a norm I'd almost consider its beauty. As I lower the flame to judge my work I see Tenna sitting on the couch across from me. I try not to look at him, knowing the second he has my attention I'm done for. I can kiss getting this done before tomorrow morning goodbye.

I try my damndest to ignore him, just finishing off the line before I can bother thinking about him. It's a hard task as I already feel anxious with him watching me. His stare picks at me till I'm honestly fighting the urge to look up. It's like he has some gravity to him that I'm drawn to.

"Damn it," I sigh. I turn off the torch and slam it on the hood of the Junker. I snap my helmet covered eye to him, seeing that infuriating smirk on his skull-like face. He has to know what that does to me. Tenna is an annoying little tick that has no business getting under my skin the way he does. His constant presence and never-ending teasing will be my undoing one day.

But damn if I don't love him for it.

Slamming my helmet up I glare at him," Have any idea what time it is?"

"10:34pm exactly," he spreads his arms wide on the couch headrest," is that a problem?"

Scoffing at his know-it-all look I toss the helmet on top of the car with the welding torch. I walk over to my workbench, picking up a used rag to wipe my face. Glancing over at Tenna I catch him staring, his legs spreading wide in an 'I'm powerful' pose. I roll my eyes as my heart flutters. How dare he.

"What do you need this time, Tenna," I ask, cutting to the chase.

"Haven't seen you in nearly a week and all you've got to say is 'you know what time it is' and 'what do you need this time'," he mocks my voice," can't I just come to see my favorite mechanic?"

I look deadpan to him," I've known you for nearly two years, not once have you just come to visit me. So I'll ask one more time, what do you need?"

He drops the act quickly, his shoulders sagging as he leans forward," Ricky Bower accidentally knocked me on my ass last week, and ever since I've been losing feeling to my hands." he raises his palms upwards, clenching his hand into fists. "It's strange and I'd greatly appreciate your help," he attempts to be kind as he asks. Knowing I can't ever say no to this idiot I motion him over to the bench.

Tenna hops up with a pep in his step. I watch him snatch the roller chair from beside the car, bringing it over before plopping down. Holding my hands out he sets his gently over them. I take the moment to feel his lightly warmed metal and leathery palms. His body has fascinated me for as long as I've known him. Having great knowledge in most things that deal with metal and wires I have never really understood how someone can make life like him. He is amazing.

Shaking out of my exploration I trace my fingers over his palm, looking up to him. "Feel that," I ask.

"Nope," he pops the P. I pinch at his fingers, digging my nail into the springy synthetic.

"That?"

"Why all the testing? I told you I can't feel a thing," he snaps. I grind my teeth at his tone, tempted to drop the task. I don't need him charging in here and demanding a fix. Scoffing I give into my petty ire and push his hands away.

"Alright, Mr. Know-it-all, fix your damn self," I hop out of my chair, ready to abscond to my office to pout like a lovesick teen. Before I can make it a step he snatches my wrist, tugging me back.

"Fine, fine," he sighs," I'm sorry. Will you please ignore my pitiful outbursts, I'm just a tad frustrated not being able to feel anything." his gaze drops to where he Is holding me, rubbing his thumb across my skin. He huffs.

I snatch my hand out of his," Fine, but one more and I'm kicking ya out."

"Wouldn't expect anything less," he smirks.

I grab his hand again, trailing my hands to his forearm where I open a panel. The underside of his arm pops off easily. Having replaced this very piece long before it no longer stays connected. I set it off to the side. I expertly look over his wires and parts. It all looks to be working fine, I dig my fingers in to investigate deeper.

"So what did Ricky do again," I ask, filling the silence as I work. I feel him shrug as his arm jostles in my hands.

"That dumb son of a bitch was wobbling on his way out the bar. Being the kind soul I am-" I roll my eyes,"-I walked him home. As he nearly caves his head in on the street I grab him, trading places with him as the dumb son of a bitch to cave his head in on the street." I snort at the image. The all graceful Tenna falling headfirst into the pavement like a drunkard. The scene replays in my mind as I snap my eyes up to him.

"So it's your head, not your arm," I bark as I grab the panel and click it back to place. Standing, I snatch his head and tug it towards me. He hovers close to my bosom but I'm far too distracted with tearing off the cranium plating to care.

"Very grabby today," he chuckles. I toss the panel to the bench and dig through the countless wires to reach where the small dent on the back of his head is. The protective layer that sits on the back of his head is pressing too hard on his processor. The wires are detached and loose. I scoff, pleased but annoyed at finding the issue. What an idiot for going a week without coming in.

I try to take a step away from him to grab my wire welding set but I'm held in place. Confused, I look to the hands holding my hips. Tenna looks up, quickly letting go and sliding back with the chair.

"Sorry," he coughs," you kept bumping me and I-uhh- yep." I stare for a moment, squinting at his strange behavior before I run off to my office.

I fix up his head, pleased as can be as I shut the panel back. Plopping down onto my chair I hold my palms out again. I gesture him forward. He drops his hand unceremoniously onto mine.

"Have you always been this warm," he asks, pressing his palm against mine.

"Does it feel different," I ask worried I screwed something up. I'm no genius in the ways of advanced robotics. He doesn't answer, trailing his hands over my wrist. Growing curious he abandons my hands and cups my cheeks. His fingers pet over my nose and under my eye. Smoothing down my eyebrows as I tense.

"What are you doing," I slowly recoil from his touch though it feels so welcoming. His thumbs grace the corners of my eyes as he smiles sweetly to himself.

"I can feel the crow's feet, ya fixed me again, doc," he jokes. I slap his hands away, insulted at the insinuation that I have crow's feet. He laughs, letting me walk away in a huff.

Tenna

I left her place later than I intended, leaving her asleep on the couch. Heading out of her scrap yard I make my way down the road towards my home. Passing many closing bars and dark alleys. I manage to get out of the dumpster fire that is downtown to get to my humble abode out of the city. It's not a far walk, a decent enough journey to a sweet little place in a sweet little neighborhood.

I trot up the steps, the door unlocking at my proximity. Stepping into the living room I find Ricky asleep on the couch similar to Valerie. Quietly I make my way to my room, flipping the light on to look at the large messy room. I step over the clutter of junk, passing by my vanity. Stopping for a moment I admire the dent on the back of my head, wincing at it.

"Didn't have to hit so hard," I grunt.

Quickly completing my nighttime rituals I plug myself in and power down for the night.

The next morning I sit in the kitchen, reading on my tablet as Ricky steps in. He's a half-dressed, sloppy man, sorting through the fridge.

"How did last night go," he asks. I sigh, dropping the tablet to the table.

"Pretty good actually. She fixed me up quickly, got to even hold her for that bit, and we talked afterward. You know Gilbert stiffed her the forty he owed her for fixing up his Camry," I answer. He grunts in answer, chugging milk like the slob he is. I grimace at the white trickle going down his neck. With a satisfied gasp, he wipes his face.

"Did you actually get anywhere this time or did you play annoying best friend again," he asks.

"No," I cross my arms," I didn't plan to do anything anyways."

Ricky snorts," wimp."

"Hey," I bark," I'm not a wimp. I'm just a good guy trying not to ruin a good thing going for me."

"yea," he shrugs," a wimp."

I pout, grumbling under my breath as I try to think of something clever to say. Ricky just snorts again, heading towards the cupboards for a snack.

"Just go for it, you beating around the bush just leaves time for her to find someone better. She puts up with your stupid injuries that you cause just as an excuse to see her. Nut up and make a move," he suggests. I can't help but chuckle at the pun. It trails off as I grovel in self-pity some more.

"It's not that easy, Rick," I sneer," she can barely stand me, and asking for more than what we have would be me just ruining something good. If all I can get is once a week with her then I'll take it. She doesn't need some idiot pulling her back anyway."

Ricky glares at me but shakes it off as the argument goes in circles. I adore Valerie, ever since she first fixed me up. She's so snarky and kind, I couldn't help but adore her. But, I'm nothing special and I know she finds me tolerable at best. I sigh, slacking in the chair.

Valerie

Bruce stops by sometime this week to grab his Junker car for the derby this weekend. With the bit of money he gives me I have enough to splurge on some necessities for the shop. I spend my day off cleaning up and ordering pieces online. Though I'm one for always working I enjoy getting to calm it all down every Tuesday. No customers to argue with, pieces of shit cars to try to fix up. Just alone with some loud music.

I sweep the garage floor, startled at the bot standing by the front door. Jumping nearly out of my skin I pause the music and catch my breath. Tenna laughs at me as I hold my hand to my chest.

"If I wasn't mistaken I think I scared ya," he teases.

"Yea," I shout," not shit." Tenna gives me a moment to ease my racing heart before continuing his teasing.

"You humans are just so jumpy. Scared of your own shadow," he snickers.

I scoff, setting the broom aside," cause you're any better? I remember vividly you whimpering over me replacing the pistons on your back."

"Hey," he barks, pointing to me," being in pain and getting scared are two different things and I wasn't whimpering. If I was, it was because you don't have a gentle bone in your body."

I wave him off," excuses, excuses. What do you want anyway?"

Shoving his hands in his pockets he walks further into the shop," was just passing by and figured you could be of help in fixing the dent on the back of my head. You see, the ladies don't find the battle wound charming."

I snort," battle wound? Falling onto concrete sounds extremely heroic."

"Saving poor old men from cracking their skull on the sidewalk sounds pretty damn heroic," he defends himself. I smile, waving him over to the workbench.

"I'd recommend stopping with the 'heroics' though. You're in here nearly every week with some 'battle scars'," I scold halfheartedly. He sits down at the bench as I circle him to check out the dented metal on his head. Grabbing him and tilting him forward I see what I can do.

"Not my fault I'm such a good person," he grumbles. I snort, shaking my head.

I try just removing the dent the old fashion way, pulling it back into place. With that not working I remove the piece and try to hammer it back. That just makes it look worse. As all else fails I set out to make a new piece. I sort through some scrap I have mashed together in a milk crate. Jabbing myself on different bits of loose metal I find a sheet perfect enough to mold.

All the while I'm working I can feel Tenna's gaze on me. It makes me fumble with my work as I feel pressured by his attention. I want to seem smart and capable around him but he has a tendency to leave me flustered. I bite my cheek and try to think of something else while I cut the sheet of metal.

With the piece made I head back over, ready to try and perfect it. I stand behind him, tilting his head back down.

"Anything new lately," I ask him to fill the silence. He shrugs.

"I've been trying this new drink for bots, it's supposed to keep the inners all clean and oiled," he answers.

"Yea, how's it taste," I ask, knowing how picky he can be.

"Like shit. It's like they make us taste everything but won't put the effort into making things we can eat good," he huffs," it's almost insulting." I hum in answer. I lose track of the conversation for a bit as I walk off to smooth the edges so it can click into place.

"So Christmas is next week," I shout from across the shop.

"Yea, and?"

"What do you me 'yea, and', are you not doing anything," I ask.

He shrugs," what is there to do? Ricky is heading off to his parents then and I'm left alone till he comes back."

I nod in understanding. Ricky is Tenna's only friend. Though I have no room to talk, Tenna is my only friend. I fiddle with the piece in my hand as I ponder asking him to spend his holiday here. Surely that's a stupid question, why would he want to spend his day with me?

"Besides, it's a family holiday. As you know I lack in that department," he tries to joke. I swallow a comforting comment.

Walking around him again I set the piece, admiring the handiwork. I turn to the workbench for some spray paint to keep the color scheme. Though I've replaced most of his parts with scarp I do try to keep it presentable. I shake the can as I fight back the urge to invite him. It's a waste invitation, he wouldn't want to. I sigh.

"Tenna," I start, he hums," do you want to spend Christmas here with me?"

He straightens at the question, asking defensively," Why?"

"What do you mean why," I bite back.

"What do you mean 'what do you mean'? Why are you inviting me to your human celebration," he barks. I scoff, spraying the back of his head quickly.

"You're going to be alone and I thought it would be a nice thing for me to do," I answer.

"Oh, how giving of you. Don't put yourself out just for me," he folds his arms. I toss the can onto the desk, circling to his front.

"What is your problem, I'm just being nice," I sneer.

He glares up at me," I don't want the charity. I imagine you have better people to spend this time with."

"Oh yea, cause I'm drowning in friends right now. Got a family halfway across the country and no money to get to them. I'm spending this time of year alone and you of all people should know that," I shake my head, holding up my hand before he can speak," know what, never mind. Didn't know having to spend Christmas with me would be such a hassle."

His shoulders drop as he begins to stand," I didn't mean it like that, Val-"

I stop him," No, it's my fault. Should have known better. It's my bad." I turn on my heels and make my way to my office, Tenna trailing after me.

"Valerie, I didn't mean it that way. I was-," I interrupt him again.

"Fucking aye, Tenna, I get it," I snap," I fixed your stupid head, you can leave now."

Tenna tries to get in another word before I slam the door in his face. I stomp to the desk, collapsing in my chair as Tenna tries to knock on the door. His words are muffled but constant. I ignore him either way, stewing in my hurt feelings like a petulant child. Damn robots.

Tenna

I reluctantly leave her place, feeling like utter shit as I do. I hardly meant for it to come out like that but I couldn't help but get defensive. She wanted to spend her special holiday with me? Surely that had to be pity. I never want her pity, that alone stings more than anything.

I walk home, feeling the cold air more than before. Heading into my home I go straight for my room to stew in my ignorance for a little longer. Falling onto my bed I groan as I recall the conversation. How can I be such a fool? Rolling onto my side I rub at the new plate sitting on the back of my head. She always fixes me right up. Not once has she said no. I smile to myself before the image of the door slamming in my face came back. I groan again.

A while later I come out of my room to speak with Ricky, finishing with my moping for the time being. I find the slobby man lounged on the couch watching tv. Falling into the chair across from him I let out an exaggerated sigh. Ricky pretends to not notice so I do it again. With a roll of his eyes, he mutes the tv, turning to me with a fake smile.

"Hello, how may I help you," he says with great theatrics. I rest my cheek on my palm.

"Valerie's mad at me," I answer. Ricky tosses the remote down the couch, clenching his jaw.

"Yea? What did you do," he asks. I don't bother pretending I did no wrong.

"She asked to if I wanted to spend Christmas with her and I got all in my emotions about it," I grumble. Ricky scoffs, looking at me bemused.

"Your girl asks you to spend a holiday with her and you got pissy," he sits up, throwing his feet onto the floor," are you dense? Your girl asks you to spend time with her outside this stupid arrangement you two have and you don't immediately say yes and jump for joy?"

Well, when you say it like that I feel like more of an asshole. I lean forward and groan into my hands. I'm truly a fool.

"I couldn't help it. It felt like she was doing it because she felt bad and I couldn't handle her feeling like she had to do that," I clarify. Ricky barks out a humorless laugh, reaching over for a pillow and tossing it at me.

"You fucking idiot," he barks," what does it matter if she felt bad for you? If a girl wants you to spend time with her then the answer should always be yes!"

"I'm aware of that now," I shove the pillow aside," you know I suffer from lack of filter from brain to mouth."

He snickers," as do all men."

"so what should I do?"

Ricky stands from the couch," go back and apologies then kiss her like the lovesick fool you are."

"Be serious, please," I fall back against the chair. Ricky walks past, heading to the kitchen.

"I am. You keep beating around the bush and you need to be direct. Tell her how you feel- or better yet, show her how you feel- and then you two can get down to fucking like rabbits in her garage," he answers, shouting as he rounds into the kitchen. I stumble on my retort as I think about having my way with her in her shop. Her sweaty body against mine as I listen to her sweet cries of pleasure. I nearly short circuit at the thought, drooling if I could.

Ricky comes back in, hitting me on the head," Stop that, I don't wanna see if a robot can get a boner."

I shoo his hand away," shut up. That's a stupid plan."

He falls to the couch with his bowl of mixed snacks," compare to your year-long plan of injuring yourself I'd say it's fucking genius." I chuff, looking towards to tv in thought. They aren't stupid plans, they've worked every time. Even when she's been mad at me I've managed to get back in there to apologize with a well-placed missing wire. I snap my head to Ricky.

"There's an idea," I smirk," she has never said no so far." Ricky looks from the tv back to me, gawking before sneering.

"No," he points at me," don't chase that thought. For the love of God, just talk to her. You are making this harder than it has to be."

I rest my elbow on my knees," no, no. it will work. Just need your help trying to break something easily fixable and-"

"NO," he jumps up, slamming his bowl on the table," I'm not going to keep helping you hurt yourself just so you can go see her. I'm fucking done with this childish game. You need to get your shit together and talk to her like a damn adult."

I stare at him for a moment, caving quickly," but Ricky, just be a bro one more time. I promise I'll try to make some headway but for right now I just need to get her to talk with me and sh-"

"Tenna," he shouts," I can't keep doing this! I'm fucking done." he storms out the room. I shout after him, trying to plead before he slams his door. Huffing I fall back into the chair, looking to the space in thought. Well, that didn't work.

Valerie

I stew for the week, growing angrier as Christmas nears. The one time I try to reach out to him as more than his mechanic he shuts me down. How could I even hope for a second that he would see me more than that? Under the feeling of rage I have the weak sensation of disappointment and pain.

Wanting an actual friendship wasn't asking for much, right? It's not like I confessed my feeling, laying myself bare for him to judge and reject. It was a simple invitation for us both not to spend this time of year alone. I scoff, slamming my tools round harder than needed.

"Don't fucking need him anyway," I grumble," far too busy to spend Christmas with him." it's a lie but it does make me feel better. I can use the free time sorting through that horrendous filing cabinet. Yea, that's a good way to spend my day off.

I power through the week working on odd jobs, secretly holding out for Tenna to walk through the door. He never does though, staying away the whole week while I continue to stew. I don't miss him, no, far from it. It's just quiet around here, that's all. I sigh at the lie.

Christmas eve leaves me cold and alone. I try to work, keeping with the minor distractions till I'm just left numb. Some self-pampering is needed. I make myself a hot chocolate, sitting on my couch, and playing Christmas music throughout the shop. I mumble along to the overly repeated songs as I sip my drink, chewing on some marshmallows.

"Merry Christmas to me," I groan.

Nearly asleep I jolt awake at a pounding at my door. The cold leftover bit of cocoa spills on my blanket as my muddled brain tries to sort out what's happening. The pounding sounds again from the front entrance, followed by some shouting. Scared, I grab a tall wrench off the workbench as I head to the door. The second the entrance is inches open does the person on the other side barge in.

A sloppy-looking man charges in, carrying a tarp behind him. I scowl at the guy, barely noticing the heap of metal strewn across the blue tarp.

"Excuse me, what are you doing," I snap. The man lets go of the tarp with a heavy grunt.

"Help him," he glares down at the heap on the tarp. I finally take a moment to look, gasping at the sight.

"Tenna," I drop to my knees, grabbing at him. He is laid wrecked on the ground, not moving. The lights in his eyes are dim but still there. It's a minimal relief but the black scorch marks up his arms aren't.

"What happened, who are you, why is he-," I try to ask.

"He fucking shocked himself with a socket, and I'm Ricky. Now fix him so I can kick his ass when he's alright," the man growls. I nearly recoil at his volume but I can't look away from Tenna. Focusing, I grab at his arms, tearing off the panel to see the damage done. There are plenty of popped fuses, the wires leaving black marks where they meet. I reach in to find the most damage, throwing my hand back as the metal burns my fingers. I press my hand to his chest, wincing at the heat.

"He's overheating," I say as I jump up. I run over to my office, grabbing plyers and a screwdriver.

"Yea, what does that mean," Ricky asks, panicked. I shoo him aside, falling to my knees besides Tenna. Reaching for his torso again I slide his shirt up to his chest and begin to pry the plate off. Using the screwdriver I manage it easily. Looking at his bare inners I use the plyer to dig in the tiny hole near his artificial heart. I press the button deep down in there, turning him off. The light dims from his eyes as his body shuts down. The barely-there glow of his pupils is a faint relief.

"What are you doing," Ricky shouts," why did you turn him off, is he dead?"

I scoff," he isn't dead, or he better not be. I shut off most of his main functions so he can cool off while I fix the wires that he popped. He is technically still on but it's minor functions, mostly."

"Mostly," Ricky barks," can you fix him?"

"Of course I can fix him," I answer with false confidence. I think I can fix him. I'm sure as hell going to try because if this idiot dies on me I'm going to turn his body into a coffee machine. No, he won't get out of this that easy.

"yea, ok," Ricky answers, shaking a bit. Before I can start on Tenna I turn to Ricky.

"It's going to be ok, I got this. Why don't you grab my tools off the bench while you tell me what happened," I ask calmly. He nods, stumbling over to the bench while I pry off the plating on both arms. Ricky passes me the set, sitting down at Tenna's feet. I wait for him to start.

"I found him in his room after I heard a loud pop. I didn't think it came from him but when I saw him laid out jerking around on the floor I couldn't think. Gods," he rubs his face," I could kill him for putting me through that."

I rip the worn wires out, stripping them and re-welding them to his body," what did he do?"

Ricky scoffs, turning away," fucking shocking himself with the outlet. I swear, he is like a child sometimes." I scrunch my face up confused.

"Why would he do that," I ask.

"Because of you," he answers easily. I snap my attention to him, defensive and confused.

"Because of me?"

Ricky looks at me, fighting with himself before he reluctantly answers," this idiot has been making up every excuse to see you."

"So he shocked himself to see me," I ask, not really getting it.

"Shocked, maimed, dented, sabotaged. You name it, he had done it just so he had a reason to see you," he shrugs. I finish with one arm, leaving the plates off to let it cool. I start on the other side.

"Why would he do that," I wince as I burn my finger again. I feel Ricky's heavy gaze on me. Turning to him he sighs.

"Because he is in love with you and only idiots in love do stupid shit like this," he gestures to Tenna. I bark out a laugh, startling Ricky.

"No, that's not it. Why did he really do this," I shake my head amused. This hunk of junk couldn't be in love with me. That's funny in itself to assume such.

"He's in love with you. Has been since he met you," he answers. I scoff.

"I doubt that very much. He has been nothing but an ass, only coming to visit when he needs something. I consider him a good friend but I know he only sees me as his mechanic," I try to smile through the bitterness. Ricky laughs, throwing his head back as he busts a gut.

"Are you kidding me," he snickers," you two are exactly the same! Two idiots who just don't get the other."

I sneer, finishing up the wires before grabbing my soldering kit. Surely Ricky is mistaken, Tenna isn't in love with me.

"So, Valerie, are you in love with him," he asks with a big grin on his face. I fluster at the question, making him laugh again. "I fucking knew it. To think, I never met you and could tell you were as enamored with him as he is with you. If only he took my advice then you two would be spending your Christmas humping like lovesick teens," he chortles. I fluster more, wanting to roll up into a ball.

I solder the last wire, grumbling under my breath at everything. How can he go and do something like this? And just to get my attention? If what Ricky said is true then Tenna is more of an idiot than I thought. He never gave any hint that he liked me, let alone loved me. I spent the whole year feeling like shit because I adored this idiot, thinking he couldn't even give me a second glance. When he wakes up he is going to have an earful.

As I put away my tools I grab the plyers again. Stretching over his chest I press the thin tip into the hole, pressing the button. I wait for the telltale sign of his rebooting but there is nothing. I press it again, holding it before releasing. Nothing. Before I can push it again there is a loud drawn out beep.

"What's happening," Ricky jumps to attention. I don't answer, having the same question myself. Leaning over his body I stare into his eyes, the dim light extinguishing completely. My heart plummets, a cold chill running up my spine.

I jump up, bolting across the shop for my trolley. Ricky stands, asking too many flustered questions as he watches me wheel the trolley over. I grab the jump-started off the middle shelf, slamming it a tad too hard on the floor. Reaching for the two clamps I attached them to Tenna's chest. I look at the machine, ready to turn the knob. Before I can start, I check Ricky, making sure he isn't in danger of being shocked as well.

I turn the knob, a charge running through Tenna. I hold it for a few seconds. Leaning over Tenna I look for his lights, seeing none I try again. I mumble under my breath pleas and prayers. Checking again for a light I truly panic.

"No, no, no," I readjust the clamps on his body," you do not get to do this to me, you damn idiot!" I twist the knob again, asking any higher power for this hunk of junk to start.

"What's going on, is it working," Ricky asks unhelpfully. I ignore him, sitting in my own fear. I twist the knob, antsy as I wait.

It's a harsh few seconds of nothing. My heart feels like it's squeezing, threatening to pop with such force. A litter of please escape my lips as my eyes sting. He can't do this to me, he fucking can't.

"You son of a bitch," I whimper in anger," I do not deserve to find out you love me too and then have you die on me. You damn piece of shit, reboot!"

I twist the knob again, perhaps turning it a tad too hard. His body gives a sudden jolt, convulsing for a moment before he sits upright.

"Motherfucker," he shouts, clenching at his open chest. He tears off the clamps, curling into himself as he shudders. I can't describe the utter joy I feel at hearing him speak. Without much thought I grab him, pulling him into a hug. He tilts into my hold, still shaking and clenching his chest.

I grab his face, turning to me," If you ever scare me like that again I will turn you into a metal scrap cube." before he can answer I smash my lips again his less soft ones. He grunts in surprise, nearly recoiling. I hold him firm, annoyed and overjoyed all at once. Tenna melts into the actions, the hands curled against his chest grabbing at my shirt to tug me closer.

"Aw, that’s sweet," Ricky tease, smacking Tenna on the back of the head," glad you're alright but if you do that shit again I'm turning your scrap cube into a toilet." Tenna parts from me, smiling up at his friend.

"Wouldn't expect anything less," Tenna chuckles.

Ricky nods, rubbing snot on his sleeve," see you at home."

"You're leaving," I ask, watching him head to the door.

"Yea, you two have a lot to talk about. I'll get my words in later when he isn't high off you," he waves dismissively. As Ricky shuts the door behind himself Tenna and I are left in tense silence.

I look to Tenna, happy to see the bright glow in his eyes. He was nearly lost to me, left to be just a piece of fine metal on my floor. I smile at him, he returns the gesture. I then punch him in the chest, wincing at the metal. He winces, curling into himself again.

"Ow, let's not punch the injured man," he snaps. I growl at him.

"Wouldn't be injured if you weren't such an idiot," I snap," Of all the moronic things I know you're capable of, this tops the list. What were you even thinking? You could have been wiped, gone forever at Tenna the robot. Left at factory reset as a blank slate. God, I could kill you right now for being so blasé about hurting yourself!"

"I did what I had to do, ok," he bites back," it's not my fault that it's the only way you would give me the time of day."

I scoff, pushing him away," only time? Excuse me but I don't think you even bother trying a different way. Not once did you stop by for a casual chat or asked me out for some dinner. Hell, I've never even been to your place. I'm not the one in the wrong here just because you're an idiot!"

Tenna groans, starting up a sentence before backing off with a shake of his head. He tries again, falling short once more. In the end, he grabs for me, tugging my reluctant self into a hug. He drops his forehead to my shoulder, holding me sweetly.

"I'm sorry," he says simply," I've been reckless and unrefined ever since I met you. It's not your fault, I'm just a fool who has no idea what he's doing."

I tug him closer, petting at his back," yea, but you are the fool I fell in love with."

He squeezes tighter, rubbing his face against me. Tugging me into his lap we take the silent moment to bask in the glow of just being alive. I'm livid with him, beyond belief am I angry, but I nearly lost him today. That alone is enough for me to just sit in his lap and hold him.

"Do you really love me," he mumbles near my ear. I pet the back of his head, pressing a kiss to him.

"Sadly," I tease. He chuckles, leaning back to look in my eyes. He slants his lips against mine, timid and slow as he does.

"Well, I'm happily in love with you too," he says against my mouth. I tug him in for the next kiss, leisurely licking his lips and cupping the back of his head. We part only for us to rest against the other.

"I'm really sorry though," he nuzzles my head," I feel like a great idiot now."

"Truly the king of idiots, actually," I joke. He smiles, nodding in agreement.

"Can you forgive me," he asks. I nod.

"My biggest flaw is I can never say no to you," I say," it will surely be my undoing."

Tenna smiles big and wide, hands falling down to my hips to tug me close. We kiss like lovesick fools we are, straying off any more words for the enjoyment of just being here. Somehow we make it to the couch where he corners me against himself and the cushion. I fall asleep to him playing with my hair. Before I can succumb to rest I mumble to him.

"Merry Christmas."

He presses a gentle kiss to my head," Merry Christmas, love."

[ohwereusingourmadeupnames]

Stuck With U

Pairing: Peter Parker/Tony Stark Rating: Mature (M) Notes: This is fluffy goodness. Check out the song Stick With U while you ready this beauty. Warnings: mentions of quarantine, COV-19. Summary: 

Tony hears the voice of an intelligent stranger in his Philosophical Ethics class and is immediately hooked. When he sees the person attached to the voice, there's no turning back.

Or, the one where Tony meets Peter in a coffee shop and an epic love affair occurs. It's based loosely off of Stuck With U.

Read it on AO3 here

I'm not one to stick around One strike and you're out, baby Don't care if I sound crazy But you never let me down, no, no

Tony always figured his humanities credit would always come back to bite him in the ass. For most of his college career, he’d gotten away with sticking around the engineering building – being a genius in the high school setting made bringing college credit in with him a brilliant thing. Despite having the ability to stay stagnant in the part of campus Tony liked the most, he wasn’t going to get to graduate unless he took a humanities course. And since karma was the ultimate bitch, the only thing available during his final year at UT Austin was Philosophical Ethics. What the actual fuck was philosophical ethics? To top off the increasingly delicious shit sundae, the humanities building was all the way on the other side of campus – and the class was in the middle of the afternoon. The petty part of him wanted to just skip the damn class every week to make a point. Who he was making the point to, he didn’t really know – which is why he found himself trekking across campus in the late September heat every Monday and Wednesday.

The first couple weeks were dull, the mundaneness of going through the syllabus and getting introduced to the course always seemed like a waste of time. The first real lecture happened the third week on Wednesday. The concept of virtue ethics wasn’t too complicated – how to live life and find the balance between virtue and vice. Dr. Sadler turned out to be a pretty interesting conversationalist and kept the entire class engaged throughout his talk. Tony didn’t think he’d be so interested in what the man had to say, but at the end of class – his hand hurt from writing notes and his mind was running wild with all of the information bestowed upon them. Other than the long walk from the engineering lab, Tony wasn’t hating the class. In fact, there were a few other people in it that were just as engaged in the topics and asked questions, rose their hands to answer intelligently, and sometimes even beat Tony to the punch.

One such day, Tony spent an extra second looking at the passage about Socrates before thrusting his hand into the air. For such a cool guy, he prided himself on his intelligence. When a soft but sure voice a row in front of him spoke up before he did, Tony tilted his head and watch with wonder as the guy recited the exact thing that’d been passing across the front of his mind since the question was asked. The feeling of being miffed stuck around for a second, then a weird sort of warmth settled. He hated to admit that he recognized it as respect and pride. Whoever the heck that kid was, he had a good brain on his shoulders. Tony forced himself to think of anything but that for the rest of class – his attention easily placed back on the older man at the front of room. The professor was the most interesting one he’d ever had. If Santa Clause wore Pink Floyd suspenders and brown instead of red – he’d be Dr. Sadler. It was easy to watch him walk around the lecture hall and blather on.

The day before the first test of the semester, Tony found himself in the little coffee shop not far from the building he was slowly getting accustomed to. He spotted it heading to class the previous day and decided to check it out. With his backpack over his shoulder, he figured he could stick around and get some studying done, too. The line wasn’t very long, so he was standing in front of the register in no time. Looking up from his phone, Tony started to order, but stopped dead in his tracks. The human person in front of him was the most beautiful thing in the entire world. His hair was on the longer side, the ends curly. The barista’s eyes were big, brown, and bright – the irises of them like warm chocolate. The thing that distracted him the most, though – was his smile. It was soft, like a shared secret and after a second of staring too long – it looked a little uneasy.

Laughing to himself and shaking his head, Tony got himself together. “Can I get your biggest sized espresso, please?” Tony asked, his voice a little scratchy from the lack of talking all morning. The guy behind the counter nodded, his smile taking on the adorably shy quality from before. “Can I get you anything else?” he said, and Tony’s eyes immediately bulged. He recognized that voice – this was the kid who answered oh so eloquently a couple of classes before. “This is probably going to sound weird, but you don’t happen to take Philosophical Ethics with Sadler, do you? There was this guy the other week that said some great shit about Socrates and his take on virtues – you sound like him, but what the fuck do I know?” Tony got out in what seemed like one breath. He shot a sheepish smile in the other guys direction – his shoulders shrugging. “I do, actually. My friend Wanda and I call him Santa. This is our third semester taking one of his sections. I’m Peter,” the other man replied, his cheeks turning the slightest shade of pink.

“Santa. That’s funny. I thought that, too. The suspenders really drive it home,” he slipped his credit card across the counter as he spoke – his eyes following Peter’s fingers, their length stupidly distracting for some reason. “Peter – nice to know you. I’m Tony. And I have to say – I was pretty impressed,” Tony finally managed to get out – if he didn’t then, he probably never would. The pink on the other’s cheeks turned to red and he tucked his head. “That’s something coming from Tony Stark,” Peter’s eyes flashed with mischief when Tony looked at him suddenly. “Yeah, I know who you are. You TA’ed in the physics lab in front of me last semester – I heard you tear down a kid in the dullest of tones. Kind of badass, dude,” Peter finished, the man passing him his card and receipt. “Oh, well – I aim to please. Do you have a break coming up anytime soon? I was going to study for Sadler’s test tomorrow – I could use a brain like yours.” He blushed at the way the words sounded in the space between them – but felt a bit better when the guy was nodding at him, his smile the entire width of his face.

“I’ll be off in ten minutes, actually. If you camp out in the back of the store, you’ll get the best Wi-Fi. I’ll come find you.” Peter flashed him a smile and turned his attention to the person behind him. They were probably pissed; he’d been standing there stupidly for way too long. Running a hand through his hair, Tony leaned against the pick-up counter and waited for his coffee with a dazed look on his face. What were the chances that the brainy intellectual he couldn’t decide whether he wanted to pat on the back or slap upside the head – was so goddamn beautiful, too? It didn’t seem fair. Hearing his name called, Tony pushed himself out of his thought and grabbed the cup – the warmth of it immediately grounding him a little. He didn’t wait for any of the heat to seep out, his tongue very used to his dumb ass self sucking down coffee straight from the pot. The coffee was tasty, and the extra jolt of caffeine immediately made him feel a little more motivated.

By the time he’d gotten his books out on the table and his laptop open, Peter was heading towards him. The pile of books in his hand made him seem a little younger than he probably was – the long sleeves of his hoodie were covering his hands, adding to the adorableness factor Tony started tallying in his head. Peter sat down and spread himself out, their clutter on the table taking up the entire surface. Looking up from his screen, Tony found himself smiling – Peter’s eyes were so nice, and they were staring right back at him. He tucked his lower lip between his teeth and ducked out of the eye contact, his fingers absentmindedly playing with the pen he’d set on top of his notebook. “You said you’ve taken his courses before, right? How are his exams? I bet a guy like that doesn’t change ups his teaching style all that much,” Tony said, breaking the silence. Peter nodded, the gesture obviously one of his customary reactions. “The format changes every time. The way he asks his questions doesn’t. The review we went over yesterday did a pretty good job mapping out all the things to look at.”

The hour went fast after that. They spent the entire time laying out a study guide highlighting all the information they went over in the review session and the things they noted more than once throughout either set of notes. When the blaring alarm cut through the haze of their little bubble, Tony had to blink a few times to remember where he was exactly. Tilting his head, he watched Peter start to collect his things, a soft smile on the guy’s face. “Thanks for sharing your break with me. I don’t think we’ll have to do much studying after making this thing,” Tony remarked, his fingers pointing to the several page document they put together. He caught the light pink hue on Peter’s cheeks and felt himself fall just a little. He didn’t know where he was falling exactly – but this guy did something to him, something that made him feel a little itchy and a lot warm. Like maybe he had a Peter allergy, but the histamine response was so, so, so worth it. “I like the way your brain works, Tony. See you tomorrow,” Peter said, his books once again tucked into the swell of his arm. He walked backwards for a second, looking Tony over – then he turned and headed to the back.

Tony watched the door swing back and forth, a dopey grin on his face.

The test went unsurprisingly well – Tony didn’t have to spend much time at all thinking deeply about any of the questions. The study guide they put together prepared him more than adequately. When he walked out, he noticed Peter was also getting out of his seat – so he waited. Their eyes met when Peter turned his paper into Sadler and the guy broke into a smile as they walked out the door together. “You’re a much better study partner than Wanda. That was so easy,” Peter admitted, his hands knotted together in front of him. “I’ve never finished one of Sadler’s exam that quick.” Peter’s cheeks were ketchup red and getting cuter by the fucking second. “I’m happy to have been a big help, then. I like him. He’s one of the smartest guys I’ve ever met, and I feel like that’s something coming from me,” Tony snorted at the look on Peter’s face – the pureness of quirked eyebrows and a crinkled nose so terribly hard to resist.

“You’re kind of an ass, aren’t you, Tony Stark?” Peter asked, his nose still crinkled, lips pulled into a shit eating grin. “Yeah. I’m kind of an ass. If you let it, it’ll grow on you,” Tony reached out and lightly punched the other’s shoulder. “Do you have class, or can I show you what I’m working on for my honor’s thesis? You were outside my lab last semester, right? So that means you’ve at least taking thermodynamics – you’ll understand a good bit of it.” Tony stopped his rambling when he noticed the look on Peter’s face – he looked like a kid that just got invited to Wonka’s chocolate factory. After a little bit of discussion, the day before, Tony found out Peter was a couple credits shy of being a junior and was soaring through the biomedical engineering program – the same way Tony did his own. Despite the guy’s shy tendencies, Peter was very smart and very outspoken about it. He smiled over at the younger guy and pressed a hand to his shoulder again. “You in or not, Petey?” Tony prodded softly, his smile widening at the enthusiastic head nod. “I’m in, I’m in. I haven’t seen the honors’ labs, yet.”

It was a little silly, how easily things seemed to settle into place. Tony considered Peter one of his best friends almost instantly. When Tony sat down on Peter’s right the next class, Wanda and all of her scarlet haired glory didn’t utter a word. The three of them talked like they’d always been a trio both before and after class – Tony found out very quickly that Wanda was very strategic, he’d need to watch his ass around her. Tony also found himself heading to the coffee shop at the edge of campus every Tuesday at 2PM to spend Peter’s hour break with him. They usually looked over Ethics, the homework a lot easier now that he was talking to a human and not the stupid robot he’d built for a robotics competition his sophomore year. The more time they spent together, though – the less of it they spent talking about Ethics. Tony knew the testing ideology now, so he wasn’t all the worried, anyway. No, he appreciated when the topic would stray away from philosophy and tread into the more personal. Peter was a conundrum and kept getting more complicated week by week.

Tony didn’t really do the feelings thing. Throughout most of his time on his own, he kept to himself. It was easy to get lost in another person; he’d seen enough people do it. He could still remember pre-Bucky Steve – the man was the life of the party. Tony liked to be by himself, and yet – he slowly started to find himself looking forward to Tuesday afternoons and the hour and a couple extra minutes Peter spent sitting with him, pretending to study and talking about all of the things. The week Peter missed class Monday and then wasn’t at work Tuesday, Tony was a little worried. It’d been practically an entire semester now of meeting up and he wondered a couple things when he didn’t have a way to contact him – why the hell hadn’t they ever exchanged numbers, and why did it seem so monumental, Peter not being there? Curiously, Tony waited until Wanda wasn’t busy behind the counter and nodded at her – his empty cup in his hand. “Where’s Peter?” Tony tried to casually ask, his fingers pushing the cup towards her in aid of his effort. “His aunt passed away. He’s been putting together her funeral for this afternoon.”

Tony felt his stomach drop. Peter mentioned May practically every time they talked about life outside of academic pursuits. It seemed like she was the most important person to Peter and the fact that she was suddenly gone – Tony knew how much the man must be hurting. Thanking Wanda, Tony didn’t wait around for the refill of his cup, his fingers already typing furiously on the screen of his phone. Google immediately showed him the obituary and where the funeral service was being held – if he wore the blazer in his car and got there in the next twenty minutes, he could make the service. Determined, Tony stopped in the bathroom and splashed some water on his face before grabbing his things and heading out to his car. A quick stop at the florist by the church and Tony was dragging his ass to the back of a small chapel.

Despite the place being small, there were a lot of people stuffed into the pews. It was obvious by the way Peter talked about her; how much she was loved – the people in the room just proved that. There wasn’t a dry eye in the house (Tony included), the ceremony was really beautiful and Peter’s brief, but powerful eulogy tied the entire thing together. Tony didn’t know the woman, he felt a little out of his league being there, but it felt good to support another person. Their eyes locked for a brief minute during Peter’s kind words about his aunt and for a brief second – he didn’t look as sad, anymore. Tony’s wobbly smile must have been encouraging, because the last half of his words were spoken more confidently. At the end of the service, Tony waited in the back pew for the crowd to say their condolences to Peter – he didn’t want the man to see him crying, either. He got himself together in the meantime – his eyes a little itchy from the blazer he’d been rubbing them on.

When he approached Peter, Tony immediately noticed how distraught he looked. He couldn’t imagine what it was like lose someone so special. Tony’s parents passing was hard, but he took it in stride – they weren’t very close. Peter looked like he might keel over – so Tony pulled him close, his arms tight around the younger man’s waist. He felt hands fist into his jacket, Peter’s nose pressing into the front of his shirt. Tony held him a little closer, his arms tight around him until the shaking stopped. He didn’t know when his hand started to move ever so slightly up and down the small of Peter’s back – but the touch was there, and it didn’t seem like he was going to be pulling away from him anytime soon. Peter looked up at him after a while, his cheeks tear stained, and eyes rimmed in what looked like an uncomfortable red. Without thinking, Tony let a thumb brush away a stray tear. “Your words were beautiful,” Tony mumbled, the lily in his hand a little crumpled from the neglect of it during their embrace. Peter didn’t seem to mind the bent stem, the boy bringing the flower to his chest. “Thanks for coming, Tony.”

A little while later, Peter found him sitting out on churches steps, his blazer now over his knee, the sleeves of his shirt rolled up. He’d been watching all of the people try and get the last little bit of Peter’s attention before they headed off to do who knows what. Funerals were funny things – people flocked to them, like the thoughts of someone else dying but not them were enough to overcome the grief. He remembered his parents’ soiree – there were so many people he’d never seen before, it felt more like a banquet dinner than a human person’s funeral. He kept his head down and waited until it was just Peter and a small violet urn – the last little piece of a life the man would no longer live. Tired eyes looked at him and, in that moment, all Tony saw was gratitude. He didn’t rush to give him a hug, or say how sorry he was, Tony simply held a hand out and let Peter take it.

They spent the rest of the night eating May’s favorite Thai food, with Peter regaling him with all of the best May Parker stories. The health conscious, vegan diner waitress with the biggest heart and warmest hug. The silence they eventually fell into was nice and easy, a little bit of relief from all of the emotion they’d been wrapped up in since he saw Peter for the first time at the church. Tony didn’t know much about Pho – but could tell this stuff was the real deal. He liked learning new things – especially where Peter was concerned. A noodle hit him in the chin and the wet squish of it slapping his skin broke the silence between them. Tony watched Peter laugh for probably the first time in days and felt a little piece of him melt – just a little.

“Why’d you end up coming, anyway?” Peter asked out of the blue, his voice still heavy with sadness and unshed tears. His eyes were hopeful, though – watery doe eyes big and looking directly at him. “I don’t really know, to be honest. Wanda told me about May and it just seemed like the right thing to do. Tuesday’s don’t have to stop being our thing because something bad happened in your life. I guess – you’re kind of stuck with me.” Tony shrugged his shoulders and went back to eating – his honesty a little too much for him in the moment. He’d never spoken so bluntly to someone before – at least, not someone he was saying something nice to, someone he admittedly admired so very, very much. “Okay, that sounds good,” Peter replied simply after a while, his shoulder pressing into Tony’s chest when he leaned over to press soup warm lips to Tony’s cheek. He felt his cheeks heat up, the spot on his skin a little moist from Peter’s lips.

It was pretty easy to make more than Tuesday their thing after that.

----

So go ahead and drive me insane Baby, run your mouth I still wouldn't change being stuck with you Stuck with you, stuck with you

The transition to being a boyfriend was surprisingly easy for Tony. Peter was the one person that gave Tony motivation outside himself – the happiness he felt when Peter smiled at him or looked pleased with him was totally different, something he wanted to cling to for as long as possible. After finals, Tony brought Peter into his small two-bedroom apartment – the two of them spending the entirety of winter break together. A part of him wanted to ask Peter to stay when the spring semester started, but he eventually came to the conclusion that they weren’t quite there yet. It didn’t stop Peter from being over at his place all the time, though. He understood what it was like to hate a roommate – the whole reason he lived by himself in the first place came from dislike of having to be around other humans. So, he didn’t mind the fact that his boyfriend found his apartment to be more comfortable than a place shared with two other dudes – dudes that, if Peter was to be believed, were very disorderly and distracting.

It was stupidly nice to have Peter with him all the time; Tony wasn’t going to object to that. It was nice to come home to a table filled with engineering textbooks and a couple cups worth of old coffee. There was a certain feeling about walking in to see someone he cared for so diligently doing something – it felt like a punch to the gut more often times than not. Peter’s brain was one of the things Tony loved the most about him. Loved – funny, they hadn’t said that word, yet. Though, Tony thought about it constantly. Time went by with Peter in a way that made things seem effortless. The longer they were together, the more Tony felt himself wanting to soak up all the things that came with having Peter Parker in his life. There were so many things he wanted to do with Peter in his life and the fact that they hadn’t taken the final step was a little intimidating – the more Tony held off, the scarier it all got. The worst thing that could happen was losing Peter, it didn’t take him very long to realize that.

It seemed silly, then, when Tony started to be a bit more of an asshole. It wasn’t Peter specific – there were enough dirty looks sent his way from the general populace to know he was being a bit of a prick to everyone. He didn’t mean it, either – there was a part of him that kept using that as an excuse for his grumpiness. The deadline for his honors thesis was quickly approaching and Tony felt stupidly underprepared. There were a lot of variables that were out of his hands and the stress of not having complete control of the situation made everything seem a little more monumental than normal. And though it felt like the world was quickly starting to close in on him, Peter remained steadily beside him. It was easy to see how much Peter endured in his life – he easily let Tony’s shitty remarks and sarcastic quips fly off his back. Every time Tony was a shit, Peter shook his head and gave him space – and later when Tony came crawling back with stupid excuses and promises of many, many kisses, Peter welcomed him back with open arms.

The closer it got to the due date, the worst it got – even Tony could rationally perceive it. It wasn’t hard to see how much longer it took Peter to bounce back from the stupid arguments Tony started – sometimes on purpose, if he were being honest with himself. It wasn’t hard to notice how Peter spent a couple extra days away between his stays with Tony. The rational part of him understood that he wasn’t the only person on the planet that needed space – that he wasn’t being nice to the person he loved more than anything. He couldn’t find the words to make Peter understand the type of stress he felt, so he didn’t say any. There were so many things trying to crush him – it seemed easy to lean heavily and rely on the one thing that hadn’t demanded anything from him.

Of course – things can only take so much pressure on them before they snap. As an engineer, Tony knew that better than anyone else. The morning the dam broke, Tony pressed the home button of his phone, his eyes blinking from a surprisingly refreshing sleep. The night before was one of the best they had in the past few weeks – Tony finally felt a little better falling into a deep sleep with Peter in his arms. After the second press to the thing, he put the pieces together and realized he didn’t plug it in to catch any charge overnight. Turning over, he caught the time on the clock on what he considered Peter’s bedside table for a while and his eyes bulged. There was no way he’d make it to his advisor meeting on time. Despite consciously knowing that, Tony went into panic mode. He got up out of bed and started rushing around the room. In his haste, he almost missed the sleepy “Tony?” coming from the bed.

“Go back to sleep, Pete. I’m a goddamn mess and don’t have any of my shit together. You don’t need to see this shit fest,” Tony mumbled, his teeth clenched together in a desperate attempt to keep whatever was bubbling up under control. There was so much stress and of course he’d be late for the one thing he needed to go to – the news about whether he’d get the rest of his research data approved, the final pieces missing to the honors thesis that’d been haunting him for weeks now. For whatever reason, Peter’s softly spoken “Sorry, Tones,” made him snap – his frustration finally breaking the last remaining supports keeping everything together.

“What are you sorry for, Pete? I was so happy to have you in my arms last night that I forgot to plug in my phone. I let myself enjoy something for a second and now I’m late and not going to finish college. I’ve been working my ass off and I’m not going to finish. I’m not saying this is your fault – but fuck it all. This is the worst possible time to fall apart.” Tony kept talking as he swept around the room, Peter’s confused look only slowing him down for a second. On a normal morning, the sheet slipping down the other’s shoulder in the tantalizing way it was would’ve had him getting into bed and ignoring all of his so-called responsibilities. Oh, how Tony longed for those days. He could feel tears starting to prickle in his eyes – a combination of shame and frustration mixing together to make a hurricane of hard to handle emotions. Slipping into the first pair of shoes he saw, Tony grabbed his bag and fled the apartment – hot tears spilling down his face something he was glad Peter didn’t have to see.

The walk onto campus was brisk enough to keep everything at bay – he’d never be able to get onto campus as fast he did that day again. Getting there with a couple minutes to spare, Tony instantly felt like a jackass. Not just because he’d lost his cool, but because he might’ve insinuated that the one good thing in his life was causing a commotion – which he wasn’t. Not at all. In fact, the only thing causing a commotion was Tony himself. That much was apparent when Dr. Coulson presented him with a fully approved thesis – the latest pieces of data and all.

It felt good to finally be done with the damn thing. Better than good, actually. He felt a lot of the cobwebs from the past few weeks start to shake off and the haze clear a little bit. What he was faced with wasn’t much to celebrate – the confused look on Peter’s face still alive and present in the forefront of Tony’s mind. He wondered why Peter continued to stick around through Tony’s latest grump streak, why the man chose to stick around and be on the end of ill-timed uncertainty. For the first time, Tony understood how important it was that Peter did stick around.

Pulling his phone out, Tony started to formulate a plan – one that would say sorry and thank you all at once. With quick fingers, he sent Peter a quick text, the good news still fresh in his mind.

Tony Stark [11:12AM]: I made it on time. They accepted my thesis. I’m officially done. Tony Stark [11:13AM]: I’ve been an ass, and I’m sorry. Tony Stark [11:14AM]: I’m glad you’re still here.

He clicked the lock on the phone and tucked it into his bag. There were a few things he needed to get done before heading back to his apartment. Before his little tissy fit, they’d been planning to spend the weekend together. If luck was in his favor, Peter would still be there when he walked through the door later. Tony forced himself not to think about what would happen if the man wasn’t there, or if he stuck around just to confront him and then jet. There were so many things Tony wanted to say – so many emotions he wanted to share. He just needed the chance to get the stuff out in the open. It felt important to be able to open up to Peter like that – share his fears and vulnerabilities. Peter was the man Tony invited into his bed on a regular basis. For all intents and purposes, they were sharing everything – cooking utensils and bodily fluids alike. It would make sense that he’d be able to be a little looser with the restraint on his feelings with him, too.

The nicest part about being with Peter came from all the similarities they shared. He knew the perfect thing to bring back to the apartment as a white flag and could honestly say he was looking forward to giving it to Peter. It relieved a lot of stress – something that Tony obviously wasn’t the best at dealing with – feeling so confident in the reception of a gift. A quick perusal through Game Stop had him clutching a small black bag and feeling a whole lot better. It didn’t really matter, finding the right present. What mattered was the fact that Tony felt good and conscious enough of his behavior to want to make it right. Baby steps, and all that.

Walking into the apartment to see Peter’s black Chuck Taylor’s still piled messily against the wall by the front door was an instant relief. Tony felt his chest unclench a little bit. The steadily collecting pieces of Peter around the apartment were still there, too. The PS4 and its many cables were still sitting next to Tony’s X-Box – and the collection of Family Guy and American Dad DVDs were ensconced nicely with Tony’s Mad Max collector’s edition box set. Now that he wasn’t stuck in a rut of anxiety and stress, Tony could see just how much of Peter there was around the place. Not even noticing made the feeling of rightness sink in a little more – the simple fact that it was natural felt like a pretty big thing. Gripping the bag in his hand, Tony kicked off the Van’s he’d been wearing and walked further into the apartment.

He wasn’t expecting the coffee table in the middle of the living room to be decked out with sleek black table settings and a single rose in between them. Though the TV wasn’t on, Tony could hear the scratch of the record player across a vinyl – the noise immediately making him feel calm, like the soothing noise of rain on a rooftop. Peter walked casually out of the kitchen carrying out a big pot – Tony knowing right away that there was mac & cheese waiting for them under the top of said pot. The other’s eyes were soft when their gazes met, and Tony felt himself relax just a little bit more. He wasn’t really sure what was going on, but he didn’t mind the light smile on Peter’s lips or the delicious scent of melted cheese and butter. The one thing Tony felt certain about was the fact that he didn’t deserve the beautiful man setting the hot dish on the table – he didn’t deserve the sweetness that laid so inherently inside Peter Parker’s heart and soul.

“What is all this, Pete?” Tony asked, his hands still fiddling with the bag he’d been clutching onto. Peter shrugged and took a seat on the couch – his hand patting the cushion next to him. “It’s not anything, baby. You did good shit today. I thought maybe we could celebrate with the only dish I can cook and the rest of that red we didn’t finish the other night.” The words were so genuine and so easily delivered. Dropping his backpack, Tony didn’t hesitate to sit on the couch next to him, their thighs brushing with his movements. He set the Game Stop bag on Peter’s lap and used his now free hands to grab his cheeks lightly. “This world doesn’t deserve you, Peter Parker. Especially me,” Tony murmured. He closed the gap between them easily, their lips connecting in a way that spoke of both parties leaning forward to partake.

Pulling away, Tony let his thumb linger against Peter’s lips for a moment, his eyes greedily taking in the way the other was looking at him. It felt like a long time since he’d been able to see those eyes with so much clarity. He let that sink in, the idea that he spent any time at all not worshipping the brown orbs that looked at him with so much want and affection. “I don’t know why you’ve stayed around with all the bull shit I’ve been dumping on you, but I’m glad. I hope you know that – I’m so fucking happy that you’re here, Pete,” Tony couldn’t stop himself; the words were dripping from him like a leaky faucet – each droplet of truth a little bit bigger than the last.

Peter caught one of his hands and brought it up to his lips, Tony’s breath quickening slightly at the touch. Those chocolate brown eyes kept up their glance, Peter’s gaze smoky – a little hazy in the way he couldn’t focus on just one part of Tony’s face. “I knew who you were getting into this. You’re an asshole – that’s not a lie. I didn’t expect that to be pretty. I didn’t expect you to be bright and shiny all the time. I get that you were stressed. You’re a human, Tony. And like you said, I’m stuck with you.”

Tony couldn’t remember a time when his words being used against him felt any sweeter. He quickly wrapped Peter in a tight hug, his lips pressing against the side of his head in a tender kiss. “Ecstatically so,” Tony said in a whisper, his entire being simply overwhelmed. He forced himself to pull away, Tony knowing that if he let himself, he’d get pulled under the spell of Peter and all the peaceful goodness his boyfriend could bring. He tapped at the bag he put on Peter’s lap, a soft smile on his lips.

“I know I can’t buy love and all of that, but I figured it wouldn’t hurt to try,” Peter pulled out the Nintendo Switch version of Super Smash Bros Melee while Tony spoke, his eyes lighting up. They’d been watching all of the trailers and reading up about it – it was the ultimate date night adventure. “There’s a reason why we’re so good together,” Pete said, his feet already carrying him to the tv to get the game into the console. The remotes joined the bowls on the table, and the spent the rest of the night was spent yelling at the tv, each other, and binging on way too much mac and wine.

The next morning, Tony woke up with a gratifying hangover and Peter’s entire body weight against his right side – the best reminder of the gift he constantly got to keep on getting.

The slurred ‘I love you’ pressed against his chest wasn’t too terrible, either.

----

So lock the door And throw out the key Can't fight this no more It's just you and me

Two years with Peter past by insanely quick. After publishing his thesis, Tony graduated with highest honors and scored a pretty decent engineering job with Valero. The pay was great, the hours were nice, and he got to stay in his apartment. An apartment that at the start of the next semester, became Peter’s, too. Tony wanted to be able to give Peter the ability to have a stress-free academic experience. Their schedules intersected in a way that meant they got to eat dinner together every night – it was one of those scenes out of those dream montages for such a long time. Watching Peter learn and grow in both his knowledge and expertise was a lot of fun for Tony. Many nights were spent with the two of them discussing Peter’s work – the man was following Tony’s footsteps and doing an honors thesis, too. The five-year program was the perfect way to get a head start in the professional world – and Tony couldn’t wait to see what Peter was going to bring.

Aside from their jobs, Tony and Peter spent a lot of time with each other and the tight knit group of friends they developed during their time together. Steve and Bucky were old friends of Tony’s, so they were easy to add to Friday night dinners and double dates. It was silly to think that Bucky Barnes wouldn’t get along with another human. He and Peter kicked it off instantly and suddenly, two became four. Tony met Bruce in that lab at Valero – they were both fresh out of school and starting their careers. A little commonality went a long way. He and Natasha were easy to incorporate into the chosen family they were creating. Natasha treated Peter like a mother hen – it made his heart warm to see them sitting in a chair together, the woman running her fingers through Peter’s chestnut locks. Tony didn’t know much about family – but he understood enough to realize just how lucky the group of them were. Thursday night game nights and Sunday afternoon cookouts were the regular – it was nice, they were happy.

The original plan after Peter graduated was for the younger man to join him at Valero. There were many places for a mind like Peter’s in the depths of the energy company’s labs – but a piece of Tony felt like maybe that wasn’t the right place for him. The compound Peter created was unparalleled and his research was insane – to the point where Tony spent many hours reading through it, marveling at the intelligence within the written words. Tony could cop to settling for something that was steady and gave him enough freedom to enjoy the work he was doing. It was enough – yet, Peter deserved a lot more than that in his professional life.

Which is why it wasn’t much of a surprise when Peter brought up a job offer he received in New York – he’d been bouncing around for a couple of days and Tony finally sat him down and asked outright what the fuck was going on. His boyfriend presented research in New York and while there, Oscorp Industries sent a headhunter after him – offering him a job that was hard to pass up. Peter told him about it nervously, his hands fumbling in front of him, long pauses between stuttered out words. For a second, Tony wanted to be offended – the way Peter was acting made him feel like the scariest mother fucker in the world, like he’d be so far away from supportive. Yet, he saw the slightest bit of hope in Peter’s eyes and understood where the nervousness came from. “I want you to come with me, Tony. I know, you’ve got a job here and there’s the guys – but I think we could really make a go out there,” Peter flashed a smile at him, the hope in his eyes growing with each word.

Instinct kicked in and Tony nodded, his eyes wide. “Holy shit, Pete. Congratulations. That’s – that’s amazing!” They were hugging before Tony could even blink, his hands grasping onto the material of Peter’s t-shirt. “I will absolutely move to New York with you. Absolutely.” Tony heard the words in his own ears, the certainty of them. He felt his entire stomach clench – not because he was mad or upset, but because his entire world was about to change. Everything in his entire world was about to change. Peter’s hands framed his face and the rest of the conversation was history – Tony losing his pants in celebration not too long after that.

The next couple of months were jam packed full of both Tony and Peter getting ready to move their entire lives across the country. Peter was finishing up with the last few mandatory things for school and Tony was quietly making future plans – he’d been working on a few things in the lab with Bruce, things that could change the face of energy. Given the right place to do some expansions, they could easily be onto something. While Peter prepped the final parts of his thesis, Tony put together proposals and made finishing touches on presentation material. Though they weren’t spending an insane amount of time together, it was easy to feel assured – secure in the fact that they were going to spend the rest of their lives together. They were making plans and figuring things out. Tony was content and thought for certain that Peter was, too.

It made sense – the timing. Tony’s slew of interviews in New York were the same week as Peter’s thesis approval. When the younger man dropped Tony off at the airport, he was still a little grumpy from the little dispute they had earlier. Tony could still remember the heated look in Peter’s eyes. “Why do you have to go this week? You’ve been so quiet about all of this and now all of the sudden you’re leaving? This is a big week for me,” Peter’s voice was a little raw at the end, they’d been hashing it out for a while.

Tony shook his head, the roundabout argument of the unfortunate timing getting a little old. “I’ve shown you the arc reactor plans, Peter. I scheduled all of the interviews to happen all at the same time, so I only had to make one trip – if things go the way I’m hoping, I’ll be home before you find out. I’m sorry, Pete. It’s shit timing, I know. I’ve been keeping this close to the belt because I’m nervous and don’t want to jinx any of the opportunities. I’m sorry, Petey,” Tony mumbled, his hands desperately trying to grip Peter’s cheeks, trying to sooth the other.

There was no soothing, though – Tony could remember a time when he felt as irritable as his boyfriend and shook it all off. There were important things that needed to happen on this trip – and so many of them were hanging in the air. It didn’t make any sense for both of them to be irritable the entire time Tony was away. He ended up leaving the car with a soft kiss against his cheek and a subdued “I love you” which Tony took and returned in stride. With his bag in his hand, Tony stood on the curb and watched Peter pull away, a soft smile on his lips. Turning when he heard Bruce, Tony smiled even wider – they were heading to New York to pitch their arc reactor idea to a couple of investment companies. If all went well, they’d be well on their way to establishing their own energy business. Tony wanted to have the plans in place before telling Peter – he wanted to bring something to the other man to be proud of. Shaking his head and trying his hardest to clear it of the argument, Tony followed Bruce into the airport and boarded the airplane in no time.

The first day of meetings was a total blur. By the time he wandered into his hotel room, Tony sent Peter a quick text message saying he loved him and then dropped onto the bed – his brain totally wiped. Like he figured, there weren’t too many companies willing to give them free rein on the construction and use of the arc reactor – and Tony wasn’t willing to part with such a great piece of technology. It didn’t seem like Bruce was all that keen, either – and he hoped their next day of meetings would go a little better. He didn’t notice his phone buzz a couple of different times, his body and mind lost to the land of slumber until early the next morning. He got up in a rush, the disorienting feeling of sleeping too long hitting him – his body still so tired despite being immobile for more than ten hours. Rolling over, Tony checked his phone and grimaced at the ten missed calls from Peter and the handful of text messages that were considerably more concerning.

Peter Parker [7:30PM]: Hey babe, I love you, too. How’d all the meetings go today? Peter Parker [8:45PM]: Should I take the lack of communication as a good or bad thing? Peter Parker [9:34PM]: I’m getting a little worried. You haven’t answered any of my calls, either. Are you okay? Peter Parker [11:21PM]: I guess you’re just not answering. I hope New York isn’t up in flames, or anything. Peter Parker [1:01AM]: Dammit, Tony.

Sucking in a quick breath, Tony looked over the texts again. He wondered idly how he managed to miss every single one of these – how he didn’t wake up to the buzz. The fatigue of traveling and haggling must’ve really kicked his ass. Tony pulled his bottom lip between his teeth and thought for a second – his brain still a little slow from the haze of sleep sticking around. Why did it seem like Peter was so strung out? Biting down on his lip a little more, Tony shook his head. He knew why Peter was upset and understood it. Things were changing – uncertainty was the name of the game when the entire Earth felt like it was shifting gears. Long fingers tangled into the strands at the front of his hair for a moment before Tony was typing on the screen.

Tony Stark [7:45AM]: Pete, I’m so sorry. Tony Stark [7:46AM]: I got into the room and crashed. Tony Stark [7:47AM]: The meetings were all a bit useless – but we’ve got the ones I’m most looking forward to today. Tony Stark [7:48AM]: I miss you, baby. I’ll call you when we’re done for the day.

He didn’t know how satisfactory that was, but with the time difference between New York and Texas, Tony wouldn’t be able to call Peter before their first meeting at 9AM. He knew Wednesday was the day Pete had a late lecture and liked to sleep a little later into the day. To sweeten the deal a little, Tony clicked on the camera and sent a selfie of him blowing a kiss, his eyes so soft – even he could see the shine in them. Sighing, he got up out of bed and started to get ready for a day filled with negotiating and attempting not to sell their souls. It was exhausting business, trying to prove one’s worth to the rest of the world.

Fortunately, these meetings went much better. There were two investors especially interested in the end product Tony and Bruce had in mind – they were willing to back the project with a workable and decent percentage off the top. The meeting with the bank finished off the last little bit of money they needed and by the end of the day, Tony and Bruce were business owners – hoping to lead the way in clean and sustainable energy, one arc reactor at a time. Tony couldn’t believe they actually convinced people to buy into their idea. In their time in the lab, they’d put together a protype of the model they were interested in building – the thing only missing the necessary elements to bring it together. After Tony passionately describe the construction process and the benefits it would bring – the right people were eating out of the palm of his hand. Tony and Bruce exchanged a couple of brief hugs and then they were off in their separate directions – the one thing Tony appreciated about Bruce more than anything else. There weren’t any expectations.

Excited, Tony pulled out his phone and pulled up Peter’s contact information, his thumb hitting the call button without another thought. It only took a couple rings for the man to pick up – Tony glad for the millionth time that his lover wasn’t petty or able to hold much of a grudge. Tony did dumb shit all the time – he forgot silly things and didn’t answer his phone. Peter took it with grace, the man a saint in that way. A slightly subdued voice met him on the other side of the line. “Hey, Tones,” Peter answered. Tony couldn’t help but smile, regardless of how much he knew Peter wanted to yell at him.

“Hey, baby. I know I fucked up – but I’m so happy to hear your voice,” Tony responded immediately, his body relaxed for the first time since leaving home. Peter chuckled, the sound an immediate reminder of home. “You didn’t fuck up – I was just being a little needy. You leaving got me a little scrambled. I think I just miss you,” Tony sighed at Peter’s words, his heart heaving against his chest. “I miss you, too. But I’ll be home tomorrow – just in time to pick you up to celebrate,” Tony couldn’t contain the excitement in his voice, the joint success of following his dream and Peter realizing his so nice, so fulfilling for the both of them.

“And just what all are we celebrating?” Peter asked, the background noise making it sound like he shifted while he spoke. Tony ran his free hand through his hair, fingers tugging at the ends ever so slightly. “Your thesis approval, of course,” Tony started with, his voice dipping a little, “and the opening of S&B Tech. Bruce and I found some investors today. We’ve got enough to get off the ground and get a functioning prototype up and running.” The words were beautiful coming from his lips – the happiness in his chest hard to be contained.

He heard Peter gasp, the little inhale of breath a recognizable thing – something so very Peter. “Are you serious? I didn’t know you were looking to open a company, Tony! Why didn’t you tell me?” Peter’s question was valid, and Tony thought about it when they started this whole process. “The only honest answer I can give you, Pete, is the fact that I was scared of failing. I didn’t want to make all of these big plans and end up not fulfilling them. When we get to New York, I want us to be able to build from the ground up. It’s just you and me, baby – I wanted to make sure I could give us something worthy of us – of who we are together.” Tony felt so impassioned by the words coming out of his mouth, a huge smile slipping across his cheeks with them.

There was a moment or two of silence on the line, the only really exchange was the sound of their breathing. He’d been with the man long enough to recognize the organized pause – Peter was collecting himself, getting his thoughts together. Tony stuck the edge of his thumb into his mouth to bite at the cuticle – the wait killing him ever so slightly. “I’m such an idiot,” Peter mumbled, the words just barely there across the line. “I thought you were pulling away from me, or something. Like you ran off to New York with Bruce and you weren’t coming back. You’re just brilliant and trying to make the whole world see it. I’m such an idiot and so fucking proud of you,” Peter’s voice broke at the end, a soft laugh trailing off the last couple of words. Tony joined him, his chest lightening with ever vibrating laugh. “I told you before, Peter Parker – you’re stuck with me.”

The next day when Peter got him from the airport, Tony was greeted with two hands on his neck pulling him close – their lips meeting in a hot kiss that lasted much longer than appropriate in public. When they broke apart, Peter was grinning at him, his eye wide and bright – the irises rich like melting chocolate. “Hello, Mr. Entrepreneur,” Peter said softly, his cheeks a bright pink from the flush of their kiss. Tony smirked and leaned in for another quick peck. “Hello, Mr. Parker. Are you ready to celebrate all of the great things happening to us?” Tony’s answer came with a hand slipping into his, Peter’s slim fingers gripping his tightly.

“You bet, Mr. Stark.”

----

Kinda hope we're here forever There's nobody on these streets If you told me that the world's ending Ain't no other way that I could spend it

They stuck around Austin just long enough for Peter to walk across the stage for graduation. Tony didn’t want to admit it, but he’d never been prouder of anything in his entire life. Though they were seated far from all of the graduates, Tony and the crew all got up with a roar when the announcer called Peter Parker across the stage. Summa cum laude, honors graduate, and the Ben Henson grant winner – all and all, the man was stupidly smart, and Tony was so very glad to have someone like him attached to his side. Peter eventually found them after the four-hour ceremony – he looked a little tired and overwhelmed, yet, his eyes were glowing with excitement and happiness, too. When Tony pulled him into an embrace, Peter’s arms came around him tightly. “I’m proud of you, baby,” Tony mumbled, his lips pressed against the side of Pete’s head. Pulling back, Tony saw Peter’s lower lip tremble for just a minute – then he disguised it with a quick kiss to his lips. They didn’t get much more time alone together, the rest of the group embraced them both in a huge hug – the tears that didn’t get shed during the ceremony now cascading down all of their faces. Endings were hard – and this one came with more than a few changes.

Later that evening, Tony was sitting in a foldout chair with Peter in his lap. They’d lit their firepit on the small apartment balcony and the rest of the clan was gathered around it. Bucky and Steve were holding hands between two chairs, Bruce and Natasha were idly chattering to each other from the ground where they decided to camp out after Tony finished with the food on the BBQ. It wasn’t the most high-class graduation party, but they were quickly trying to put their lives into boxes and get their shit together to move across the country. Peter wouldn’t have wanted anything more, either – the boy wasn’t used to fancy things or people making big deals out of what he assumed to be the smallest things. Arms squeezing around his shoulders brought him back from his thoughts, Peter smiling down at him. “This is the best, Tony – thank you.” And little things like that were the nicest reminders of just how good he actually had it – the simple way Peter liked to live his life was all Tony ever wanted, he just didn’t know it until he met the man.

Before leaving for the night, Steve pulled Tony aside – the older man’s hand tight on his shoulder. “Do your best to keep him, Tony. This you, the guy standing in front of me – it’s the best version. I’ve never seen you look happier. And man is he good for you.” Steve stopped then, his hand moving to wrap around Tony’s shoulders to pull him in to a light side hug. “I’m going to miss you, brother. I’m happy to know that you’ve got someone worthy standing by your side, though. Take good care of each other.” He gave Tony another brief squeeze and stepped away, his hand finding Bucky’s – who’d been standing over to the side talking to Peter. The two of them left shortly after. Their goodbyes with Bruce and Natasha were brief – their places in New York weren’t too far from each other. After the door was shut firmly behind everybody, Tony didn’t have to wait long for Peter’s arms to wrap around him – his hands finding the thick locks at the back of his head. “Take me to bed, Mr. Stark.” He didn’t need any more spurring on than that – the rest of Peter’s graduation celebration took place behind a firmly closed door, just the two of them.

The moving van came two days later, the entirety of the life they built together over the past couple of years barely fitting into a medium sized U-Haul. It felt a little bittersweet driving out of Austin – Tony did the most growing of his life in that crazy city. He met the man of his dreams, graduated college, and realized exactly what he needed to be doing in life. He owed a lot to Austin, Texas. They shared a sad smile as they pulled onto the highway and started their first leg of the journey. Peter reached over and grabbed his hand, their fingers intertwining easily. There wasn’t much to be said – leaving together, sitting across the cab of the truck packed with all of their stuff – it was the easiest decision Tony could make. The grin Peter couldn’t keep from his face the first few hours of the drive said he felt the same, too. Though they were heading into the unknown, it didn’t feel as scary as Tony knew it could have.

Since neither of them were in any hurry to actually get there, they spent a couple weeks driving a longer route through Alabama, and then up through Virginia and into Pennsylvania. In the places either of them were eager to explore, they stopped. They took in the Atlanta Renaissance festival – which was an absolute blast. Tony had a hard time believing he’d change his lock screen from the picture of him and Peter dressed up as knights – his boyfriend’s tunic slipped down over his shoulder probably his favorite part. The day was nice when they drove through Virginia, so they spent a few hours exploring Virginia Beach – the taffy they found at a place called Candy Kitchen still making his stomach hurt from the massive amount they ate over the following few days. In Pennsylvania, they spent an afternoon in Philadelphia – the nerd in them both enjoying all of the history. The video he posted of Peter running up the stairs like Rocky got a lot of hits – and ended up scoring Tony the nickname Adrian.

By the time they actually got to the house they managed to score for a pretty decent price, Tony was more than eager to not be behind the wheel. Their adventures were great, and it was more fun than he figured either of them were expecting. It also took them three weeks, most of which Tony spent driving in some fashion, whether it was on the highway or navigating the little side streets of the places they were visiting. Despite the house being completely empty, it was nice to walk in somewhere and finally feel settled. He insisted on carrying Peter over the threshold of their home, regardless of the fact that they weren’t married, and he wasn’t the woman, thank you very much. Tony couldn’t help the huge grin that played across his face when Peter pulled him into a kiss, the younger man still tight in Tony’s arms bridal style. “It’s kind of perfect though, isn’t it?” Peter broke their kiss just long enough to get the words out – Tony’s favorite brown eyes alive, lit with passion and nerves and want and excitement.

That first night on the floor of their brand-new house was one of the best Tony could remember spending with Peter. Fatigue and tiredness fueled love making that was soft and sweet – Tony realizing that there was no need to rush, that now that they were home, they had all this time of their hands. Grown-up responsibilities were cake compared to the thought of what unlimited time with Peter Parker could give him. And when they were done, Peter slid their fingers together, Tony’s left hand tight in Peter’s right. “Do you want to be my husband, Tony Stark?” Tony sucked in a breath and turned his head, eyes wide. The dopey look on Pete’s face spoke of total sincerity and for a moment, Tony let himself soak that in. The most amazing person in the world wanted to marry him – wanted to keep him forever. Leaning forward, Tony pressed his lips to Peter’s nose, the touch lingering. “You bet your cute ass I do. Tony Parker-Stark has a nice ring to it.”

From that point on, life became about getting everything together. Their house, their jobs, and ultimately – their marriage. There weren’t too many surprised people looking back at them when they FaceTimed everyone to let them in on the news. Tony chuckled at Bucky’s “about damn time” and Peter colored when Natasha asked how good the celebratory sex was. It was hard to not be excited when Tony could feel everyone else’s joy for them. It was pretty easy to get lost in the bliss of what having Peter Parker as a partner was like, and the beautiful freedom of working for himself and himself alone. Things were good, and Tony tried to cling to every single piece of that goodness that he could.

The next time Tony looked up from the happy little bubble he was living in, another year had past and they were quickly approaching their wedding date. It was not very surprising, how easy it’d been to plan a wedding with Peter by his side. A small venue outside of the hustle and bustle of the city caught their eye early on and they snatched it up while they could. The place was small and intimate, on the right side of casual – the perfect representation of who Tony and Peter were together. Tony got his way with casual suits, his a light grey with a soft linen white shirt underneath and Peter’s a contrasting dark navy with the same white shirt to match. They didn’t sweat the small stuff and let it all come together.

At least, that’s what Tony thought, anyway.

Then, the coronavirus hit and everything about regular life came to a screeching halt. One week before they were set to get married, Tony got a call from the venue letting him know they were closing and could not guarantee a date that they’d be open again. To say he felt a little gutted was an understatement. Their entire group of friends took the week off to help Tony and Peter put the final touches together for the big day. While he got the call, Steve and Bruce were working on the labels for the small bottles of whiskey they were giving as favors for the guests. Watching the news, the past week kept Tony on edge, though he tried not to show it – he did all the things Peter asked. It seemed as if they were going to keep putting things together until there was no reason not to anymore. When Tony told him about the venue, Peter fell into the loop of Tony’s arms and let himself have a breakdown moment – their friends be damned.

Things got a little worse the next day when shit started to really break down in the city – the virus count was steadily climbing, and they were officially on a stay at home order. There weren’t better people to be stuck inside with, Tony knew that. It just hurt a little – knowing how close they’d come to actually getting married, to having that very group of people stand by their side as Tony finally got to say his vows to Peter and make the bond between them a permanent thing. Peter’s hands constantly grabbing for him or his sad eyes always looking to connect with Tony’s spoke volumes – the man just as distraught about the missed opportunity. In the craziness, it felt silly to be so down about a wedding – Peter was still healthy and safe, that should’ve been enough.

But – it wasn’t. After a mad rush to get groceries and enough supplies to take care of six adults for a while, Tony found Peter wrapped up in the comforter on their bed, his head somewhere in the jungle of all the pillows they kept there. “You doing alright, Petey?” Tony asked softly. He kicked off his shoes and climbed onto the bed behind Peter, his hands reaching until he could pull the other man closer. His lips pressed against his fiancé’s forehead without a thought, the man turning at the contact. “Don’t pretend like you’re not just as strung out. We were supposed to get married tomorrow. I couldn’t wait to see that ring on your finger,” Peter’s words were a little hard to make out, his face was still pressed against the pillow. Tony managed, though, and pulled him a little closer, his lips pressing a string of kisses against any of the skin he could reach. The tactile movement gave him a couple moments to think, his brain on overdrive – an idea finally coming to him.

“Why don’t we get married tomorrow, anyway? Natasha is ordained, she was going to do the ceremony. Let’s just – do it.” Tony sat up a little, his arms still tight around Peter’s middle. He could see the cogs turning in Peter’s head the second he put the idea out into the air. “The people in this house are the only ones that truly matter to me, Pete. I could care less about everything else – all I need is you. And someone to sign the marriage license,” Tony added as an after-thought. “There’s no reason why we can’t still get married tomorrow, baby.” He added a kiss to his last statement, the press of his lips against Peter’s a silent promise. “I guess we’re getting married tomorrow,” Peter replied with a laugh, his smile covering his cheeks – the sight of it for the first time in a few days lighting Tony’s heart on fire.

It didn’t take much effort to get the group on board with what they had in mind. Instead of walking down the aisle at the small venue, Peter would meet Tony at the bottom of their stairs. And instead of feasting on beef and brisket sliders, Steve and Bucky were going to put together a breakfast feast. It wasn’t the big thing he imagined being able to give Peter – what he felt the man he loved deserved. Yet, he couldn’t stop himself from feeling a little excited, no matter what got them there, Peter was going to be his husband - and there was no other way he could think of spending the rest of his days. He wanted Peter to have all of his time, wanted to know the feeling of losing his mind because of the man for as long he’d have him.

The early part of the next day flew by in a flash. Tony, Steve, and Bruce spent most of the day putting together the backyard of the house. They strung up white fairy lights around the perimeter of the fence to match the awning of the porch. Tony mowed the grass and etched around the fence, determined to make the slushy feel of winter disappear from the yard. The day was luckily not calling for snow, or stupidly cold temperatures, so they’d be able to enjoy some of the evening outside in the beauty of a crisp New York night. They moved all of the wooden furniture to the edge of the porch to make a small square of space where the six of them could dance to the playlist Peter spent a couple of months meticulously putting together.

Before Tony knew it, he was getting himself into his suit – the grey of it making his pale skin and dark hair really stand out. He put a little extra fuss to his hair and even let Steve trim up the sides of his beard that he couldn’t see – Tony wanted to look perfect. With the look pieced together, Tony glanced in the mirror. The cut of the jacket fit his shoulders perfectly and led down to his trim waist. The pants were cut right above his ankle, his socks with Peter’s face on them just barely visible. He laughed when Bruce presented them both with a pair the night before, they were the perfect thing to break up the simplicity. Stepping back, Tony nodded at his reflection, his nervous hands running through his hair – fingers just conscious enough not to ruin the rugged look he was going for. Steve and Bruce flanked his side in the mirror for a moment, the three of them looking smooth – like they were heading to the party of the century, instead of the living room of Tony’s house. Wrapping his arms around them both, Tony couldn’t keep the smile off his face. “Thanks for being here, fellas. Means a lot.” Neither answered, they simply squished Tony between them.

The second Tony saw Peter start to walk down the stairs, he knew it wouldn’t have mattered where they did this – his soon-to-be husband was an absolute vision. The navy looked good on him and the smile that spread his cheeks from ear to ear completed the look – the happiness radiating from him something Tony knew he needed to work hard to keep around. The man was stunning, and it took Tony a second to realize tears were tracking down his cheeks. He couldn’t think about anything other than the fact that with each step he took, Peter got that much closer to becoming Tony’s husband. Their gazes locked, glistening chocolate brown meeting the lighter honey color of Tony’s. Peter’s pace visibly sped up after that, his smile stretching impossibly further.

Peter’s hand slipped seamlessly into the crook of Tony’s elbow and they took the final few steps together – Nat was set up at the far side of the room, the sliding glass doors behind her letting in natural light. Steve and Bruce were set up on Tony’s side and Bucky on Peter’s, the whole crew huddled together for the most important day of their best friends’ lives. Stopping in front of Nat, Tony turned until he was looking directly at Pete, his hand holding the other’s tightly in his own. They didn’t break eye contact – not even when Nat started to talk.

“It’s a little unconventional, this whole wedding. Which, I think is pretty perfect for Tony and Peter. Since I’ve known them, they’ve been the weirdos of the group. They always bring off the wall movies to movie night – and don’t even get me started on the boardgames they pull out when it’s their night to host. In all of my life, I’ve never experienced a couple who walked together in their weirdness – but these two do. Tony owns his love for making things blow up and Peter will not hesitate to talk to you about how many times he’s gotten his hands stuck to the desk because of his latest experiment. There are no two humans that deserve each other more than Tony and Peter do. It’s a true gift to be a part of that tangible love between them – and I can’t wait to see what the future holds. Like this day, like the two of them – their love is unconventional,” Nat’s voice was bright and confident, her eyes roaming between them. “Pete, you’re up.” She finished in a soft tone, everyone in the room now looking at the youngest of them all.

“Tony, I didn’t expect you. You blew into the coffee shop that day and I haven’t been the same. There are so many things about you that drive me insane. You’re bad at picking up your socks, you leave your whiskey glasses all over the place, you never sleep, and you’re always working. You’re irritating and you know it – which makes it even worse. But, without all of that, you wouldn’t be the most caring, lovable asshole I’ve ever met. You’re my strength in the storm, my reason in times of chaos, and the only person on this entire planet I’d pick up after. You love the same way you live – loudly, hard, and with everything you have. I’m lucky that I got your attention and that you haven’t left me alone since. I promise to keep you level and put you to bed when you need it. I can’t wait to watch your hair gray and spend the rest of my life by your side. I’m stuck with you and I wouldn’t change that for the world. I love you, Tony Stark,” Peter’s eyes jumped from the small vow book to Tony’s every few seconds – his voice getting more and more watery the longer he talked.

Tony wiped a hand under his eye, Peter’s words making everyone in the room cry. Sucking in a breath, he chuckled when Nat arched a brow at him, her eyes big and wet, too. “Good luck doing better than that, Tony.”

“I think it’s funny – how much you didn’t expect me. I dreaded heading into that Ethics class every week and then all of the sudden – I’m listening to this voice impart such wisdom. Then I saw you and it was pretty much over for me. You’re the smartest person I’ve ever met, and you have this way of making everyone else see things your way. You’re stubborn, and when you want something, there’s no persuading you otherwise. I can’t wait to argue with you about time in the lab and whose turn it is to do the dishes. You’re the world to me and I’ll take all that comes with that. Pete, you’re everything I didn’t know I was looking for and all that I’ve ever wanted. Our brains together can do anything and today is just the first day of that journey. I promise to keep you safe, happy, and under piles of Legos. I wouldn’t change loving you, hating you, wanting you – for anything. I love you, Petey.”

When Nat finally got around to telling them to kiss, Tony gripped Peter’s cheeks and pulled him close. Their lips met in a kiss that felt different – despite Tony having tasted the other’s lips at least a million times by then. He let a soft groan slip before pulling away – his cheeks a matching shade to Peter’s. Turning around, Tony brought their joined hands to his mouth, his lips brushing the white gold band now settled there.

Later, sitting around the porch with bellies full of delicious breakfast foods, Peter sat in his lap and wrapped his arms around his neck, the position reminiscent of many times before. “Hello husband,” Peter said against his lips, the man’s eyes bright with booze and happiness. Tony pressed another kiss to his lips before answering, “Hey, Mr. Parker-Stark.” He dropped his face into the crease of Pete’s neck, breathing out a sigh of relief. It felt good to finally have his husband in his arms – the day suddenly feeling so long without this closeness. “Now you’re really stuck with me,” Tony rumbled against the skin of Peter’s neck. His lips lingering with each word. He felt Peter’s hands frame his face and pull until they were looking at each other.

“Happily so, husband of mine.”

[rt8815]

Bradbury...and Boogie-Woogie

Two years I’ve agonized over this piece. Two. Years. It’s kinda the reason I started writing this story out of order. Anyway, it’s one of those ‘filler’ chapters, I think they’re called. Not a CM Bingo piece, though I’m working on more of those atm.

Triggers: None, I think.

WC: 2,840

Before diving in, first read Let It Bleed, as it immediately precedes this one.

Bradbury…October 27, 2017

“Hey, New Girl! Welcome-welcome!” Garcia squealed happily, rolling a cart onto the sidewalk.

“Hi, Penelope. It’s great to meet you in person,” replied McKinley, lifting plastic containers off the concrete and placing them on the cart.

“You too, Kinley. Oh my gosh, you’re even cuter in the flesh. Love. Your. Hair.”

“Uh, th-thanks,” she stuttered, unsure how to take the compliment or politely ask the bubbly techie not to play with her amethyst locks. Then Garcia moved in for a hug. McKinley stepped back. “No, sorry. I’m kind of weird about hugs.”

“No need to apologize,” she insisted, pushing the dessert-laden cart through the door. Remembering their lively video chat from the other night, McKinley deduced that verbally and physically affectionate was Penelope’s natural state.

McKinley handed her ID to a grumpy man behind the front desk. “If we get to be friends, I’ll warm up to you,” she told Penelope, throwing her visitor’s badge around her neck.

Penelope’s eyes glinted mischievously. “We’ll definitely become friends. I’ve already decided. You’re a smol bean and you’re my baby now, no arguments,” she concluded as entered the elevator.

McKinley giggled. They chatted while the elevator climbed.

“So, you’ve got the hots for our Boy Genius,” Penelope mused aloud.

“What? No! No, it’s not like that.”

“Oh really, now? Doughnuts, cupcakes, a cake, and Season 10 of Doctor Who on Blu-ray, all to apologize because you accidentally grabbed a handful?”

McKinley’s face burned. “Did Agent Alvez tell you that? Son of a bitch!” she fumed, helping Penelope maneuver the cart into the hall.

“Don’t be embarrassed,” she reassured her. “These things happen.” Her lips pulled into an inquisitive smirk. “Okay, tell me - what’s he packing? We talkin’ Small Flat Rate Box, or Freight?”

McKinley’s eyes bugged behind her sunglasses. “Sweet Lord, why would you wanna know that?”

Penelope shrugged. “Reid’s always so buttoned up; however, I suspect he’s smuggling something impressive under those corduroys.”

“Yeah well, I’m not comfortable discussing that, so keep suspecting.” They rolled through the glass doors of the bullpen. “And to answer your original question: I don’t have the hots for him,” she stated simply as they came to a stop at Spencer’s desk, “and I’m not looking to date.”

“You guys are perfect for each other, though!” Penelope insisted. “You’re a lot alike. You’re both kind, nerd-funny, super smart, reserved…”

“Ha! Remember that last one when you’ve seen me drunk,” McKinley cautioned, opening the containers to check the decorations.

“Hey, it’s Twist ‘n’ Shout!”

She spun, hands on her hips, electricity crackling in her hair. Luke’s grin slipped at the death glare on her face, his coffee mug hovering midway to its destination. After a pregnant pause, McKinley responded.

“Fine, I’ll give you that one…Mocha Latte. Just know that I bite when I have to.” He raised his coffee-free hand in surrender, inching forward to inspect the desserts.

“Get away, you!” Penelope warned. “These are Spencer’s.”

Luke broke into a lopsided smile. “Oh, because of the ‘short and curlies incident’?”

McKinley thumped his arm with a stack of paper plates.

“Ouch,” he chuckled, no hint of pain in his voice.

“That was for telling people about the…awkwardness. Also, yes, it’s part apology, part ‘let’s be friends.’”

Luke raised a brow. “Friends? You got a free preview of the goods and you’re looking to be just friends?”

Her cheeks flushed. “Yes! He’s a lovely person and…I dunno. When we talked, my heart went all squishy and I knew my life would be greatly lacking without him as my friend.”

­“Okay, just remember that opportunity gropes but once, Doc.”

“Alvez, why are you casually discussing sexual misconduct in the middle of the office?” McKinley turned to see a tall brunette woman approaching. She appeared formidable but caring.

“Ah, it’s Dr. Durand! That clears things up,” she laughed, extending a hand to McKinley. “I’m Emily Prentiss, welcome to the BAU.”

McKinley offered a small, awkward wave in return. Emily smiled knowingly.

“How beautiful!” she exclaimed, eyeing the sweet treats. “The attention to detail is remarkable!”

McKinley smiled bashfully. “Thank you so mu- wait, how did you know who I am?”

Emily tore her eyes from the cake. “Well, Penny mentioned your video chat, and Luke jumped in and told us about your encounter with Spencer,” she winked, making a fondling motion with her hand. McKinley’s face flushed yet again.

“Penny spilled about your plan to surprise Spencer, and we got curious. I had her run a background check on you.”

McKinley inhaled sharply, feeling exposed.

“Em!” Penelope squeaked in disapproval. “It’s not like that, love, it’s just- ”

“Spence is like a younger brother to us,” interjected another blonde. “We’re very protective of him. He’s been through a lot, so whenever somebody new enters his life, we’re concerned about their intentions. Jennifer Jareau, by the way. Call me JJ,” she said, not forcing a handshake.

“I understand,” McKinley sighed. “Spencer has that effect on people, doesn’t he?”

She hugged the plates to her chest. “One conversation with him and you realize, ‘He’s a precious cinnamon roll and must be protected at all costs!’ I assure you, that’s my only intention, JJ: to be his friend.”

“Well, that’s certainly a good start,” an older gentleman joined the conversation, pointing at one of the containers. “Chocolate frosted doughnuts with sprinkles are his favorite. It’s a bit clichéd, but there’s truth in the adage ‘the way to a man’s heart is through his stomach.’ It follows; you’ve already had him by the b-”

“Rossi, stop! We’ve made enough jokes at her expense,” scolded a woman who introduced herself as Dr. Tara Lewis. “This looks exquisite. Do I smell coffee in the cake? Reid loves coffee.”

“Yes, and there’s plenty to share as soon as he’s had some. Where is he, anyway?”

Luke pointed outside the Bullpen. “He’s down the hall printing handouts for his seminar next month,” he said, sipping his coffee.

“He doesn’t email them?”

“Reid’s a bit of a technophobe,” explained yet another agent, Matt Simmons.

“He still insists on hard copies of case files,” added Penelope. “It broke his heart when we went totally digital.” She glanced over McKinley’s shoulder and grinned. “Speak of the Luddite devil.”

Everyone watched as Spencer staggered towards them, clutching a thick stack of papers. He stopped short when he saw the crowd milling around his desk.

Spencer smiled, confused. “McKinley? What are you doing here?”

“She comes bearing gifts, Big Brain,” Penelope winked. “Apology gifts.” The others avoided his gaze but couldn’t hide their sniggers. Then Spencer caught Luke’s eye.

“You told!” he grumbled, flinging the papers onto his desk.

“If I give y’all food, will you shut your traps about us touching each other’s fun places?”

“No.”

“Probably not.”

“Nope. Sorry, not sorry.”

“Heh, you’re new here, bean. You’ll learn.”

While they lined up to choose their treats, McKinley leaned closer to Spencer. “When does the hazing end?”

“They’ll get bored soon, but that’s when the pranking starts.” He bent forward to focus on the cake properly. “Ray Bradbury?”

“Yeah, Garcia said Halloween’s your favorite holiday, and I know you’re a voracious reader. I put two and two together and ta-da.”

“Let’s see…the lions are from “The Veldt,” and the flowers are from Dandelion Wine, but what’s this one?” he asked, pointing to a swing set and a sandbox.

“The Playground,” she replied, and they smiled at each other self-consciously.

“McKinley, did you make all of this by hand?” asked JJ, marveling at the miniature sculptures.

“Most of it, except my friend Taylor painted the lions, and the chocolate TARDISes on the cupcakes came from a mold.” She popped open another container, revealing police boxes, each wrapped with a Fourth Doctor’s scarf and set in galaxy frosting. “Oh, and I bought the Jelly Babies online.”

“Would you consider making birthday cakes? My boys would love these.”

“Sure thing,” McKinley agreed, sitting in the chair Spencer brought her.

“Sooo, Reid, what are you gonna do for Kinley?” Garcia interjected.

“She’s right, Spence,” JJ concurred, sneaking an extra cupcake. “You’re not innocent in all this.”

Behind her, Luke held two doughnuts, squeezing them suggestively and mouthing ‘honka-honka.’

McKinley scowled at him. “What’re you, twelve?” Turning to Spencer, she continued. “I’d choose a book or record shop, but you don’t owe me a thing.”

“Oh-oh-oh,” Garcia enthused. “Then after, you could watch Who together at your place. He doesn’t have a TV,” she whisper-yelled.

Shaking her head, McKinley checked her phone. “Sorry, time for me to go.”

“Nooo,” Garcia pouted. “Hang with us!”

“Tempting, but I have to meet friends at some bar named…O’Keeffe’s?”

McKinley swore Garcia’s squeal of delight broke the sound barrier.

“That’s where we’re going! We’re all gonna get smashed on pumpkin-y, fall-themed grownup drinks together! Yes!”

…And Boogie-Woogie

The team kept an eye out for McKinley at O’Keeffe’s and were surprised to hear her shout out to them from the stage. She introduced the team to her bandmates following their final set, which consisted mostly of Tom Petty songs as a memorial of sorts, though McKinley couldn’t resist adding The Rolling Stones’ “Fingerprint File” at the end.

They talked late into the night getting to know each other. McKinley sat transfixed as the team regaled her with stories about their cases, one of which revolved around what they called a Vengeful Cinderella.

“Really? With her stilettos? Yikes!” she grimaced, sipping her drink.

“Yeah, but Spence was able to bring her in quietly by playing into her fantasy, acting as Prince Charming to her Cinderella. Got down on one knee, slipped her shoe back on and everything.”

McKinley threw Spencer an appraising look.

“I can see that working. He fits the bill.”

“He also gave me a new appreciation for the original, unsanitized versions of fairy tales. See, I felt that children ought to be protected from harsh realities, but Spence explained that the tales’ intended purpose was to allow kids to safely confront their fears.”

McKinley cocked her head in thought.

“Actually, the intent of those particular versions was to punish women - through some combination of marriage, rape, bodily mutilation and or death - simply for being women, because the Brothers Grimm were a pair of angry, bitter, he-man woman-hatin’, misogynist prick bastards.”

She took a drink and drew a breath before continuing, waving her hand for emphasis.

“Meanwhile, historian Franz Xaver von Schönwerth traveled around Bavaria, transcribing the stories directly from the very people who’d kept them alive in the oral tradition: servants, peasants, laborers - many of them women - rather than reframing them within his own worldview.”

She breathed in again, oblivious to the team’s stares.

“These fairy tales had strong, independent female protagonists in leadership positions. They were the ones having adventures, slaying dragons and rescuing men! Yes, the stories’ purpose was to help children navigate life’s challenges and prepare them for the adult world,” McKinley clarified, “but not at the expense of women’s agency and autonomy.”

Her gaze shifted to Spencer, whose mouth had dropped slightly.

“Unfortunately, Grimms’ Fairy Tales garnered all the attention. Fast-forward and now we have watered down, artificially flavored, saccharine animated films teaching kids that girls are helpless and need saving, and that the boys who rescue the girls are entitled to them. It’s just one more way the film industry has contributed to toxic masculinity and rape culture. Thanks, Disney, I hate it,” she concluded.

McKinley returned to her drink for a few moments before realizing the booth had fallen silent.

“Oh boy, there are two of them now,” Emily snorted.

McKinley scrunched her face in confusion. “Two what?”

“Spence rambles too,” said JJ, in a tone that conveyed mild annoyance and embarrassment at the behavior, almost as though she were apologizing for him.

McKinley frowned at her. She had seemed nice enough in the Bullpen earlier.

“He’s gotten better about it over the years, though,” she added, patting his shoulder.

The misplaced pride grated on McKinley’s nerves.

“Asphinctersayswhat?” She deliberately slurred her words, downing the last of her drink.

“What?” asked JJ.

“Exactly,” McKinley murmured, eyes fixed on her glass.

Before JJ could ask again, Spencer spoke.

“How had I not heard of Schönwerth before?” he wondered aloud, sounding disappointed in himself.

McKinley perked up. “I can lend you my copy of The Turnip Princess if you’d like. It’s a collection of his work.”

“Yeah, definitely!” he said eagerly. “I’m always excited to learn something new.”

Luke leaned around Matt to join the exchange. “I’ll have to buy a copy myself. I read Grimm’s as a kid but I hate to think I only knew biased versions. Schönwerth’s sound much better.”

…

“I appreciate the ride home, Luke,” McKinley called from the backseat.

“Me too. Just don’t get used to hearing those words pass my gorgeous lips, Newbie.”

“No problem, happy to do it,” he answered, laughing at Garcia’s drunken antics.

Under the cranked-up radio, McKinley addressed Spencer.

“Thanks for your text that morning after the park. I’m glad you’re feeling better.”

“Thank you for insisting on the wellness check.” He paused, fiddling with his messenger bag and smiling thoughtfully. “You know what? I’m glad we met.” 

“Hey, is this the right place?” asked Luke.

McKinley peered through the window.

“6565, yeah that’s the one,” she confirmed as Luke parked.

Penelope waddled across the driveway.

“I have to see your tiny house - the outside I mean, since I already got a video tour of the inside. Guys, it. is. Adorable,” Penelope gushed.

“I thought you lived with Taylor and Jaimie,” said Spencer, pointing to the porch.

“I’m parked out back,” McKinley explained, unlocking the gate.

Penelope gasped. “I almost forgot! Can we see your baby too?”

“Absolutely! He loves meeting new people.”

Luke closed the gate behind them, carrying McKinley’s guitar. “Wait, what? You have a son?”

“Weeell, sort of…” McKinley twirled around, landing on her knees, arms spread out.

“Boogie, baby! Come to Mamma!” she bellowed.

A multicolored mass of fur burst through the door and made a blurry beeline for her, knocking her fully onto the ground.

“I missed you too, buddy!” she cried as the dog assaulted her face with kisses. Sitting up, McKinley faced him towards the group.

“Look! I brought new friends. Boogie, this is Luke, Penny, and Spencer. Guys, this is Boogie.”

“Boogie?”

“Yes, Mocha Latte, Boogie. Short for Boogie-Woogie, which comes from the Bantu phrase ‘mbuki-mvuki.’ It means ‘to dance wildly, to the point of ecstasy.’ I didn’t have a name picked out when I brought him home, but when I put my music on shuffle, the first song was John Lee Hooker’s “Boogie Chillen’.” He started shaking his butt and tapping his feet. No other name would’ve sufficed.”

He approached Luke, slowly at first, then promptly shoved his snout into the man’s crotch.

“Boogie! Manners! I raised you better than that.”

“That’s okay, I know it’s the dog version of shaking hands.” Luke knelt to give him more attention. “You’re just introducing yourself, aren’t you? Yeah. You probably smell Roxie, huh buddy.”

“You have a furbaby too?”

“Yeah, a Belgian Malinois. What’s Boogie?”

“A Border Aussie. Mom was a working Border Collie and Dad was a show Australian Shepherd. He got Mommy’s smarts and Daddy’s derpiness.”

Penelope bent over to scratch Boogie’s ears, surrendering herself to sniffs and kisses. “If you two don’t have playdates at the park, I’ll dognap them and take them there myself.”

Boogie seemed to wag his assent, shuffling over to Spencer and nosing his hand.

“N-nice doggie,” he stammered, gingerly patting Boogie’s head.

McKinley stood, swaying slightly on her way to the door. “I better grab that book while I’m thinking about it. Keep our guests entertained, buddy.”

They heard her rummaging inside, talking to herself. “You were here just the other - aha!”

She reappeared, waving a tattered paperback. “It’s dog-eared and coffee-stained,” she sighed apologetically, “but it’ll read.”

“Well-worn is high praise for a book. It shows how much it’s been loved,” Spencer reasoned, climbing the stairs to the small porch. 

“Take your time with it. Some things aren’t meant for speed-Reiding,” she joked, handing him the book.

A comfortable silence settled between them for a minute.

“The swing set on the cake is an inedible figurine, by the way. That night, sitting on the real swing…I dunno, it seemed to comfort you. Now you have one to keep on your desk.”

McKinley couldn’t decide if ‘impressed’ or ‘perturbed’ better described Spencer’s expression in that moment.

“It’s late, guys. We should head out,” Luke yawned, handing McKinley her guitar.

“Night-night, Lovely! We’re having that knitting bee at my place next weekend, just us.”

“Sounds great, Penny, but I’m nervous about knitting in the round. It’s intimidating.”

They waved their goodbyes as they returned to the gate. “Don’t worry, Auntie Penelope will teach you all she knows.”

McKinley retreated into the warmth of her home. She climbed into bed, beaming to herself.

“A whole new group of friends. Imagine that, Boogie! I’d only dared hope for one…”

—

“There are no faster or firmer friendships than those between people who love the same books.”Irving Stone

@illegalcerebral @dreatine @cynbx

Others let me know if you’d like to be tagged.

[jbuffyangel]

Disloyalty: Arrow 7x20 Review (Confessions)

Is anyone feeling like the ramp up to the season finale is lacking ramp up? Cause I do. 

Also, it’s time to talk about D*nah.

Let’s dig in…

D*nah Dr*ke

The fact I’m starting with D*nah and not with Felicity or Olicity really says it all doesn’t it? Where should the priorities be right now given that it’s Emily Bett Rickard’s final few episodes? Hint: IT’S NOT D*NAH DR*KE.

“Confessions” employs a well known cinematic story telling device called the “Rashomon Effect.” It’s named after a 1950 film where a murder is described in four contradictory ways by four witnesses. Cool right? Yes, it’s a wonderful way of showing how an individual’s perspective, and self interests, can warp “the truth.” One of the best films to employ this technique is called Courage Under Fire. It stars Denzel Washington, Meg Ryan and Matt Damon. Watch it. Thank me later.

I think the Arrow writers are using the Rashomon Effect in “Confessions” but that doesn’t mean it’s effective. The episode has the same problem as “Spartan.” It’s placement in the season is bizarre.  “Confessions” would work much better if it aired in the 10-15 episode range, but as one of the final it’s kind of a snoozer. I was super bored. Bored and annoyed. That’s me.

“Confessions” is a looooooot of exposition. Two guards have been murdered and once again Oliver Queen & Co. stands accused. My irritation begins with the Star City Police Department. At this point these ungrateful and disloyal twiddle dinks deserve everything the Ninth Circle has coming to them. My firm belief is Oliver and Felicity should dump this Emiko mess on SCPD’s lap, get the hell out of town and raise their family in peace. But they won’t do that because they are “heroes.” Their selflessness is super annoying.

The good news is our Parkour Prince and Olicity’s first born son Roy Harper is back in town! Oh how I have missed that perfectly sculpted jaw line.  

Source:  arrowdaily

The big question of course is who killed the two guards? I mean… I guess I care.  

I’m not completely heartless. It’s sad the two guards are dead, but we already know Oliver didn’t do it. Neither did Felicity or Diggle. D*nah is investigating, so I’m assuming that puts her in the clear. So that leaves Rene, Roy or Emiko.

We can boil this list down even further given how shifty Roy is acting and the fact we know he’s living on a deserted island twenty years in the future. It’s either Roy or Emiko. I’m five minutes in and I’ve already figured out 95% of the plot. Yawn.

Every character gets their turn in the hot seat with D*nah and Sergeant Bingsley (isn’t that a great name?), who pretty much hates Oliver. 

Source: smoakmonster 

I’m not going through every single character’s perspective on the events in question mostly because it’s pretty boring (save for Felicity). Oliver, Felicity, Diggle, Roy and Rene’s details vary but all their stories arrive at the same conclusion – they didn’t do it and Oliver’s terrorist sister probably did.

Source: smoakmonster

This leaves us with one of two options – either Oliver & team are telling the truth about Emiko or they are covering for someone on the team i.e. Roy. Here’s where we arrive to the crux of my problem with “Confessions.” 

D*nah Dr*ke. 

The whole story hinges on D*nah either being a disloyal jackass or the audience believing she’s a disloyal jackass. Neither option says very good things about her character.

Oliver is sorry about the guards, but the team stopped a terrorist act so they are ahead by the numbers and boy he ain’t wrong! Yeah I know. Every life matters but also THEY STOPPED A TERRORIST. 

D*nah and the SCPD’s evidence against Oliver is the guard’s were killed by emerald green arrows. DUN DUN DUNNNNN!!!! It’s too bad there isn’t another vigilante dressing like the Green Arrow running all over town. OH WAIT THERE IS.

D*nah and Oliver fess up to knowing the identity of the New GA and he admits Emiko is his half sister. Oliver seems extremely reluctant to name his sister as the murderer. D*nah and Bingsley believe Oliver is protecting Emiko, so it feels legit when he quietly confesses she killed the guards. She is the reason Oliver is lying and stonewalling, so Bingsley (kind of) buys his story. Quite frankly this is a stroke of genius.  My boy was on fire with the plans tonight!

Long story short, Roy killed the guards in a fit of bloodlust rage, but Oliver is ride or die for his boy and insists the team cover for him. 

Source: smoakmonster 

However, Oliver’s plan is completely dependent on D*nah accusing her teammates of murder to misdirect the investigation, so he can casually/not so causally point the finger at Emiko. 

Source: smoakmonster 

We spend much of the episode listening to D*nah say, “Why the hell didn’t you tell me?” and, “I want to believe you Oliver but you gotta admit this looks really bad,” because the arrows are green.

Me: Holy hell woman. He went to prison for you. What more does he have to do to inspire some friggin loyalty from you?

Oliver argues pretty much all of my words because he feels me on a spiritual level. He didn’t do it. D*nah should know him better than that. And all he gets is her stony face and judgmental eyes. I mean, God forbid Oliver Queen make the department look bad!

The reason Oliver used D*nah this way is because she’s been judgmental and disloyal all season long. She barely lifted a finger to help Felicity get Oliver out of prison, she arrested Rene for being a vigilante and was up Siren’s ass all the time. (Okay, that last one was warranted.) Her primary worry is holding on to her job as captain. And don’t even get me started on Season 6.

Felicity: Oh you mean when Ricardo Diaz kidnapped Roy to turn him against Oliver? You might have forgotten about that since you weren’t exactly on speaking terms with Oliver and I at the time.

BOOM. Felicity Smoak is my level of petty. I love it. Drag her sis.

At first, I thought the writers were going with Plan A – Emiko killed the guards. So, my irritation with D*nah and her constant blame game when it came to Team Arrow’s actions were at an all time high.  I’m not kidding. I want Siren back. Can we do a Canary exchange? E2 gets D*nah . At least the writers have picked a personality with this version of LL.   I’ve gone from advocating for Laurel’s death to missing her newest incarnation. This is a full circle moment.

D*nah has many of the character problems E1 L*urel had. The writers are 100% committed to assassinating her character whenever the plot deems necessary. There’s really no other explanation for D*nah’s flip flopping personality and constant suspicions of Oliver Queen. We’ve been here before.

I know for many outside fandom this Roy reveal was an extremely great GOTCH YA, 

but I think fandom was on to Roy + rage = Lazarus Pit since the beginning of the season. It’s fine. We’re a very difficult group to surprise because we pay attention to all the itty bitty details a casual viewer blows right past. That wasn’t my annoyance with the episode.

My annoyance is the writers knew I would be annoyed with D*nah and believe she is selling out the team. 

Sometimes Arrow is very self aware and this is one of those moments. They know fans are frustrated with the character and yet instead of fixing it they lean into it. 

D*nah is blaming and accusing Oliver every other week. Her behavior really hasn’t changed that much from Season 6. So, the one time she’s on board with Oliver’s call I’m supposed to rejoice? No. 

Sorry, particularly when the writers use her awfulness to sell the ruse. IF YOU KNOW SHE IS AWFUL THEN WHY DON’T YOU FIX IT?

I couldn’t even be happy about D*nah being “one for all and all for one” because she continues to bitch about protecting Roy to Oliver after they are cleared by the police.

D*nah: Two innocent people died and we’re covering it up.

Oliver: D*nah is someone on this team goes down then this entire team goes down.

Felicity and Diggle also make strong arguments about sitting in lock up while Emiko wreaks havoc on the city. OTA is strongly #TeamProtectRoy.

Source:  lucyyh

Rene: But Roy’s not a part of this team. He’s been gone for months doing who knows what.

Oliver: With due respect, you don’t know what he’s been through. Roy is and will always be as much a part of this team as the rest of us.

D*nah: Except the rest of us don’t go around killing innocent people.

OKAY NEW KIDS. You’ve been going here for two stinking years whereas Roy has been around since Season 1. RESPECT YOUR ELDERS. 

I understand D*nah and Rene don’t have a personal connection to Roy, but when the guy who went to prison for you vouches for him then that’s all they should need. PICK A SIDE. Are you on this team or are you out? If you’re on the team then fall in line.

One thing I will always love about Oliver Queen is his LOYALTY. Roy sacrificed everything for Oliver, so he doesn’t even blink at two dead guards. 

Roy was clearly out of his mind, so the Newbies need to take a beat and follow the leader. Maybe you don’t know Roy, but they should know Oliver by now. And that’s the essential problem. Do Rene and D*nah trust Oliver Queen? No. I don’t think they do. Not fully. So what the hell are they doing here?

Also, has D*nah completely forgotten she is also a murderer? Because I haven’t.

The difference between Roy and D*nah is she doesn’t have bloodlust as an excuse. She was of sound mind and body when she pulled the trigger, so I really need her to shove the moral condemnation.

The entire reason this episode focused so much on D*nah is because she has been the character most predisposed to disloyalty this season. The entire reason this ruse worked on any kind of level with the audience is because we believed D*nah’s disloyalty. The entire reason Oliver knew the plan would fool the police is because D*nah’s disloyalty is believable. That is a very big problem. She is not a character I root for anymore and what’s even sadder is the writers don’t seem to care.

Roy Harper

I’m not putting my frustrations with “Confessions” all at D*nah’s feet. Now is the time to take a long and hard look at our problematic son Roy Harper. 

Here’s how the episode should have gone:

Roy: I died, Thea dipped me in the Pit and we used the Lotus Elixir, but I still have rage issues because Mirakuru is forever screwing me over.

Oliver: Cool.

Then, Dad would send son out into the field with a babysitter. Kind of like a buddy system. By the way, didn’t they use the only Lotus Elixir on Thea in Season 3? Me thinks yes, but apparently Nyssa has access to a whole lotus garden now.

What’s hilarious about this is Oliver used the Pit on Thea, she used the Pit on Roy and L*urel used it on Sara. And yet they adamantly refuse to use it on L*urel.  Nyssa has plenty of Lotus Elixir and Constantine is flying around time with Sara, but they still won’t resurrect her character. Oh Arrow. I see your petty and I love it. 

(Yeah I know they aren’t resurrecting Moira, Tommy, Robert, etc. but none of those people are actively seeking employment on the show.)

Anywho, back to Roy. Oliver brought him back to town because Emiko doesn’t know who he is and he could be their ace in the hole. Also they needed someone really good are parkour.

The writers addressed the “Why not Thea?” question, but Oliver’s answer left something to be desired. He’s not going to tell Thea about Emiko until she’s in custody? 

Uhhh… okay. I understand Oliver not wanting to drag Thea back into the Star City drama, but he could pick up the phone and let her know what’s going on. I’m not comfortable with a lie by omission. Would Thea come running home if she knew about Emiko? Yeah, maybe but I feel confident they could cook up a Lazarus Pit emergency instead of Oliver lying to his sister. Again.

This is 99.99% Roy’s fault and I’m glad Oliver holds him responsible for keeping a secret like this. It is possible to love and protect someone while holding them accountable. It doesn’t have to be either or.

This is what loyalty, friendship and team work looks like. D*nah and Rene could learn a few things from Oliver Queen.

Felicity Smoak and Olicity

It’s frustrating we’re on episode 20 and I’m spending 95% of my review talking about D*nah and Roy. I have long ago accepted Arrow is never going to focus on Felicity Smoak and Olicity to the level I would like them too. I’ve let that anger die many moons ago. However, I do occasionally get frustrated and this is one of those episodes. The need to use Felicity Smoak to her max potential seems even more urgent because of Emily’s impending exit.

And yet, Arrow remains Arrow. They won’t shift from standard operating procedure even now. Generally speaking, the big Olicity moments happen in the premiere, mid season finale/mid season premiere and season finale. I get it, but EMILY IS LEAVING. 

It’s time to chuck the SOP. Granted they’ve focused on Felicity more than ever have before, but this kind of exposition episode and focus on secondary characters would have been an easier pill to swallow if it came earlier in the season. But 7x20?

Maybe there’s an explanation for that and maybe there’s not. I don’t know for sure, but as a viewer it frustrates me.

Upside: We watched Felicity eat a bunch of yummies and be her perfect, adorable self. 

Source:  lucyyh

She almost told Roy she was preggo and Oliver had to bite his cheek to keep from laughing. 

Source:  felicitysmoakgifs

Her feelings about Rene are the same as mine and it gives me life.

Source:  smoakmonster 

We end on a cliffhanger with a worried wifey freaking about bae.

Source:  olivergifs

And her hair is its own storyline. Wow.

Source:  smoakmonster

The fact these are the only real moments I have from one of Felicity’s final episodes is sad to me, but I appreciate them nonetheless. Despite my love, Arrow is an imperfect show and it will remain so until the very end.

Stray Thoughts

Tweet of the night.

THEA IS HAPPY. DO NOT TOUCH MY CHILD WRITERS.

It’s entirely possible Roy goes to Lian Yu because he can’t find a cure for the bloodlust and cools his heels there for the last 20 years. Pretty much anything is better than the writers killing Thea, so if it protects my Theroy happy ending then I’ll get behind it. They are literally dumping characters in Pauseville until the series finale and I am here for it.

Do Thea and Roy both have a red hooded jacket or do they sharesies?

Look I get Rene is in love with Emiko, but she's trying to murder her brother on the regular for stuff Robert Queen did so this whole “family is important to her” stance he is taking is completely laughable. Will anyone on this show ever make sense? Oh right. Felicity AND SHE IS LEAVING.

Oliver is making a shocking amount of sense. Fully realized superhero Oliver is so unnerving. EPIC MOMENT. Source:  olivergifs

I'm glad Emiko finally dropped the Gambit bomb. Pun intended. Oliver needs to know the evil sister has been plotting since S1 because full circle baby!!!

Me: It's gonna take a lot more than dropping a building on him to kill Oliver Queen.

Also me: SOMEONE SAVE HIM!!!!!!!! THERE'S TOO MANY TOMMY MEMORIES AND I CAN'T HANDLE IT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! MAKE IT STAHP!!!! Source  olicitygifs

The final five minutes were good and delivered an action packed punch, but man it was a slow ride to get there. Time to pick up the pace Arrow! We’re almost to the finish line.

Disclaimer: Any gifs on the blog are not mine. If you would like a gif removed from my reviews, please message me. 7x20 gifs credited.

If you’d like to support the blog, please buy me a cup of tea!

[baekthecorgi]

thank you for the music (haechan) genre: fluff, high school au, theatre kid au words: 2.8k w. summary: in which ABBA described how you fell in love with theatre kid, donghyuck.

it wasn’t like you couldn’t sing. you weren’t just really interested in theatre. you were more of a bookworm, film enthusiast gal–not someone who acts and sings and oh my god did renjun just say DANCE

renjun is this year’s production stage manager for the musical. he has a knack for plays and musicals so it was understandable why he’s in such a position.

renjun’s also the devil’s incarnate. you’ve always known that but renjun went full-on apocalyptic evil when he tattled about the upcoming musical to your mom. unfortunately, she was a musical geek AND an ABBA fan herself.

it was like hitting two birds with one stone. this was definitely a dream come true for your mother.

“auntie, i think it’d be a GREAT idea if you let my gorgeous best friend audition for sophie”

renjun complimenting you meant trouble.

“sophie? as in mamma mia’s sophie?!” renjun nods and your mom shrieks right behind your ear.

judging from her tone of voice, she’s set on bribing the principal to let you play the part. even if she has to pay a thousand bucks and mortgage the house.

“you bastard!”

“i am, in fact, a legal child. you can’t use that word on me”

“stop being a sarcastic bitch”

“that’s you, sis”

“RENJUN”

that night, your mom was on her knees, begging you to audition for the role. suddenly, she brings up her birthday next week. she says she’ll cut you some slack finding a gift if you would at least try to audition for sophie. she’ll consider it as a birthday gift. begrudgingly, you agree cause she’s your mom and you love your mom to the moon and back.

naturally, everyone was shocked when they saw the only girl in class who wasn’t stoked for the musical, show up on the audition day.

the audition was a breeze–easily passing the acting and singing category

(thank god for vocal classes every summer since third grade)

“so who’s my leading man?” you ask renjun while he skims through the script at lunch

he corrects, “men”

you almost choke on your milk, “men?!”

“oh wait, my bad” renjun corrects, “that was for donna sheridan”

“lee donghyuck,” he blurts out and this time, you really choke on your milk

donghyuck was the class clown and evidently, the most annoying student to ever pester you in class. not only is he the irritating kid behind your desk, donghyuck was also your only competitor for rank one.

you’ve actually grown up with donghyuck but never got the chance to sit down and become friends with the boy. it’s cause his obnoxious, ego-centric personality hindered it. like that time in third grade, he talks to you about nonsense all the time so you always wrote his name in the NOISY LIST on the board.

let’s just say, this silent feud was going on your entire youth

“save your dramatic ass for the musical. you’re gonna be his fiancée after all,” your best friend teases

the head teacher aka the musical director, introduces the students to the stage crew as well as the fellow actors so all of you could be familiar with each other.

jung jaehyun was sam carmichael, johnny seo was bill andersson, and moon taeil was harry bright

when the director calls out donghyuck’s name and character, he says a few lines of introduction before sending you a sly wink. the bitch KNEW.

have you mentioned how flirty donghyuck was with everyone ???

during rehearsals, you can testify to donghyuck being professional, leaving his class clown demeanor behind. he was surprisingly good at acting.

deep inside, you were quite convinced yourself that you’re really his fiancée. as sophie you mean, not as donghyuck’s (yeah sure)

HIS VOCALS THOUGH

it’s as if honey was seeping right through the pores of your skin. his voice was like stirring creamer into the coffee. satisfying. you were running out of words to describe the boy’s vocals because your mind was always in a haze whenever donghyuck opens his mouth to sing.

you kept your compliments to yourself. it would be your ego’s downfall if you ever voiced it out loud and you weren’t ready for donghyuck to tease you endlessly about it.

it made you dislike him more

as the opening night was nearing, the cast and crew were becoming closer, especially the main characters. your social circle was expanding thanks to the opportunity (ehem, renjun). you got to meet renjun’s other friends–jeno, mark, jaemin, and the ever so cute babies, chenle and jisung. some were part of the stage crew, some minor roles.

you still didn’t talk to donghyuck, though. even if he was a part of renjun’s group. something within you simply refused to make ends meet with the kid and you trust your instinct.

the disconnection between the two of you affected the musical itself

when the director commands donghyuck to wrap his arms lovingly around your torso (cause that’s what couples do!!), you two look like two poles bumping into each other. the rest of the dreamies just sigh heavily.

one time, chenle cringed too hard his limbs were almost paralyzed

so Renjun and Friends™ conjured a plan called, “#MakeSophieAndSkyLikeEachOther” aka “#SaveMammaMia2k18”

that was why you found yourself stuck inside the costume closet. your eyes widen when the door opens and a bewildered donghyuck is pushed inside as well. you hear the lock click loudly.

oooooffff awkwaard

donghyuck initiates, reaching his hand to you, “lee donghyuck but you can call me hyuck, sweetheart”

“can you–i dunno–be normal for once, donghyuck?” you huff, crossing your arms

“okay, sweetheart”

“that’s so cheesy”

“you like it”

“SHUT UP HYUCK”

“oh shit, i think i like hyuck more than sweetheart. it’s settled then,” donghyuck says before he bursts out laughing at your flustered face. donghyuck had no idea whether your red, tomato-ish face was of anger or annoyance. maybe a bit of both but he didn’t want to spoil this chance to get closer to you so he pokes the hell out of you.

“hyuck, cut it!!!” you swat his index finger and stare angrily at the boy

but the cute bitch just ??? puffs out his cheeks like a kindergartner ??? and your lips stretch into a wide smile cause he was so damn cute you couldn’t help it ok !!!!

then hyuck

breaks into a smile too

reference: the gif

it was so genuine you wanted to c o m b u s t

you two smiling like fools was the icebreaker

since then, you got even closer to hyuck. the dreamies high-fived each other when they finally feel the chemistry between you and hyuck the following rehearsal. in fact, you two were soooo close it was beginning to show in your acting

or was it even acting anymore

he helps you rehearse your lines and your scenes with him!!! like the boy was really a sweetheart

(though sometimes he still calls you that. you fake complain when he teases you so he’ll console you later, to be honest.)

donghyuck assists you with the melody whenever you were flat or sharp. the kid is a musical genius, what can i say?

oh and he claps his hands 1-2-3-4 to the tempo when you miss a beat.he was such a great help with I Have A Dream and Thank You For The Music that when you finished singing your solos, donghyuck was left in a dream-like trance. you had to lightly slap his face to make him snap out of it.

you must be a mermaid to enchant such a handsome young man.

“look,” chenle lowkey points at you and donghyuck at the corner, “it seems like sky’s whipped for sophie”

“now that plan #MakeSophieAndSkyLikeEachOther is done, we’ll proceed to the next one,” renjun rubs his hands together like a fly, lifting a brow at the guys

mark asks, curious, “wait, how sure are you that she likes hyuck?”

“have you seen the girl smile THAT wide?!” renjun rolls his eyes

mark counts. each finger for each time he saw you smile in class. “four times” “exactly,” and mark forms an ‘o’ with his lips

renjun continues, “and with hyuck?”

mark looks over to your direction and starts to count again. “twelve times?!?!! under a minute?? how??”

“she likes donghyuck, dumb ass,” jeno states, matter-of-factly

We Love Intellectual Friends

this time around, jisung formulates plan “#MakeSophieAndSkyConfess”

renjun keeps donghyuck busy during take five’s so jaemin will have the chance to openly flirt with you. he’s the best flirt in the group.

it was like playing fire with fire

but renjun doesn’t keep donghyuck busy enough for him to take notice of jaemin’s advances on you. the dreamies did the same routine for three consecutive days, donghyuck begins to evidently curl his fists whenever jaemin talks to you.

one time, donghyuck warns you, “don’t talk too much with jaemin. he flirts with everyone.”

“oh so he’s like you,” you snap back and donghyuck was taken aback, clearly offended by your words.

“you’re so pathetic,” he breathes

you were appalled and the irritation washed over you for the first time since the closet incident. like who was donghyuck to tell you what to do and what not to do ???

and the dreamies, eavesdropping, was 200% panicking cause it wasn’t supposed to go that way!!!!

mark hits jisung on the arm and mutters an “i told you this wasn’t a good idea”

renjun was supposed to walk over and help patch things up but the director called for Act 3, Scene 2: Lay All Your Love On Me

the dreamies were SHAKING. the scene was sky and sophie literally fighting with their hidden emotions. it was too similar with you and donghyuck’s petty fight.

donghyuck sings the first verse:

I wasn’t jealous before we met Now every man I see is a potential threat And I’m possessive, it isn’t nice You’ve heard me saying that smoking was my only vice But now it isn’t true Now everything is new And all I’ve learned has overturned I beg of you

you proceed with the second verse:

It was like shooting a sitting duck A little small talk, a smile and baby I was stuck I still don’t know what you’ve done with me A grown-up woman should never fall so easily I feel a kind of fear When I don’t have you near Unsatisfied, I skip my pride I beg you dear

then the both of you begin to sing the chorus:

Don’t go wasting your emotion Lay all your love on me Don’t go sharing your devotion Lay all your love on me

as the song fades to an end, you and donghyuck stand opposite each other under the spotlight. you were staring at him and he was doing the same. the song holds as some form of enlightenment of your feelings for each other. this was so awkward realizing your feelings for donghyuck onstage like how cliche is that ???????

you literally hear your heart break into a million tiny pieces when donghyuck nonchalantly walks offstage. it’s part of the script but somehow, his moves were too true to be plain acting.

“uh oh,” chenle massages his temples, “we have to fix this, guys”

“no shit. tomorrow’s opening night,” jisung retorts. he winces when chenle slaps his arm for disrespecting him.

“don’t worry, i have a plan,” renjun announces, crossing his arms

“oh no not again,” mark interjects

it was opening night and you were hella nervous you feel like projectile vomiting any minute. the crowd was building up as each minute passes. you peep through the curtains and see your mom at the very center of the first row.

we love a supportive stage mom

renjun rubs the small of your back. “you’ll do spectacular tonight. i know it. break a leg!” he pumps his fist before returning to his duties.

small as he is, renjun was shouting at the top of his lungs and commanding the stage crew to bust their asses.

you did breathing exercises cause your heart was pumping wildly. suddenly, you feel someone tap your shoulder. you turn around to see donghyuck in his stage costume–a loose blue shirt, tucked in, and black skinny jeans. as always, he took your breath away.

“hi,” his voice was small and soft, “i’m sorry. for yesterday. i didn’t mean it. if anything, i’m the pathetic one.”

“you are,” you say and donghyuck lets out an almost inaudible laugh. “i’m sorry too, hyuck. i was rude, and you’re right, i am pathetic.”

“you aren’t okay? the truth is, i li–”

“WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING IN YOUR WORK CLOTHES?! WHY AREN’T YOU IN YOUR COSTUME JESUS CHRIST YOU STILL DON’T HAVE MAKEUP?!?!!!!”

renjun was blowing everyone’s ears off

“i’ll do her makeup, geez,” donghyuck grabs your wrist and stomps off to the makeup room.

“DON’T GIVE ME THAT SASSY ATTITUDE LEE DONGHYUCK YOU’RE GONNA GET THESE HANDS”

renjun pls chill

hyuck is such a pro at makeup. like you didn’t even know the step-by-step process but he’s basically nailing your makeup. being a part of the theatre club has its perks.

hyuck was doing your eye makeup and he realizes that he’s super close to your lips, he has to resist the urge to place his on top of yours. he was supposed to do a light makeup on you but since this is theatre, hyuck had to put layers of everything. before he actually does anything he’ll regret, donghyuck sends you off to change into your costume.

a little later, the musical starts. you swear you see your mom sobbing in the front row as soon as the curtains were drawn. the scenes were perfect, as well as your acting. donghyuck’s superb vocals blew the socks off of everyone.

the scenes where you and donghyuck acts as a couple seemed so natural as if you two were really one in real life

you could only wish

donghyuck gazes at your eyes like they contain all the stars in the sky that you had to force yourself to break his gaze so you can continue with yourlines

Act 4, Scene 10: Super Trouper. Wedding Scene. (Last Scene)

hyuck swears on his life that he doesn’t have asthma or any kind of respiratory problem but you rendered the boy breathless as you walked down on one of the theater aisles in a wedding dress

like this may seem farfetched thought but this was what donghyuck imagined on his wedding

back then, his bride-to-be was always a question mark but now, as donghyuck looks at you walking towards him, he might just have an idea

the scene continues on. it was revealed to the audience that sky and sophie called off the wedding, only to be replaced by donna and sam.

the finale song starts to play. donghyuck notices glitter (???) on a banner with huge bold letters: “CONFESS NOW, IDIOT” held up by renjun, jaemin, and jeno. plus the rest of the gang shouting words of encouragement that were drowned by the music.

donghyuck, albeit startled, twirls you around like planned. he gets a dose of courage when you sang your lines:

Tonight the super trouper beams are gonna blind me But I won’t feel blue Like I always do ‘Cause somewhere in the crowd there’s you

when he catches you in his arms, your eyes turn into crescent moons enough to make donghyuck’s heartbeat ring in his ears

“i like you,“ donghyuck mouths

you were too busy dancing you miss the words he mouthed. you can’t speak back cause the microphone would catch your voice so you mouth back, "you what?”

“i like you”

“wHA–"

you were cut off by hyuck’s lips pressing onto yours

somewhere in the background, the dreamies were jumping up and down, cheering, "GO GET IT”

the way donghyuck smiles into the kiss like a giddy child receiving ice cream. the way your lips fit like two puzzle pieces together. the way you slowly snake your arms around donghyuck’s neck and softly grabbing a fistful of his dark brown locks. the way hyuck held the small of your back with care as if you were some fragile being. it wasn’t fervent or needy. it was only filled with much love and adoration.

donghyuck places his microphone far away from his lips and say, “i said i like you”

“that’s not part of the script”

hyuck didn’t miss the reddish pink color tinting your cheeks

“it was an impromptu”

“did you think of it beforehand?”

“no, i only felt it”

and with that, you lean in and give donghyuck another well-deserved kiss

after the musical, everyone was like going crazy on taking pictures of you two for being such a cute couple onstage, and now offstage. renjun was highkey bragging about being the best cupid in town to which the dreamies tattled on the whole jaemin flirting with you thing.

the kiss started out as an impromptu. let’s just say, donghyuck included it in the script until the gala night. only on the gala night, he slips a little tongue action.

the dreamies were grossed out but to hell with that

you love donghyuck

and donghyuck loves you

note: stream we go up!!!!! our boys deserve their first and last win as ot7 ;;; i had the urge to combine theatre kid donghyuck x abba cause it’s beyond perfect as a prompt. don’t even deny it. this has been sitting in my drafts for a long time tbvh. i love renjun and his devious plans in this scenario lmao we love supportive friends !!!!!

LET’S TALK ABOUT WE GO UP MV. hyuck in a bandana and mark in a wet black shirt unffff fuck me up markhyucketh!!!!

drop by and send some feedbacks pls

masterlist

[pornosophical]

Deathstalker

hi yes so this is a big ol’ excerpt from these über-pulpy space opera trash books that I love and it’s also fucking #goals because oh my god. that final scene cutting comment—and also the world-building is some low-key genius

“Now, is there any other business?” 

The ceiling high above the throne exploded, and debris rained down through the shifting mists. The maids-in-waiting leapt up and sheltered the Empress’s body with their own. Sharp-edged rubble cut their pale flesh and blood flowed, but none of them flinched. The court screamed and panicked, milling this way and that in their fear and confusion. Dram drew his sword and gun and looked about him for an enemy. And out of the smoke and mists above the throne dropped a dozen long lines, down which slid men and women dressed in leathers and chains. They hit the water and stepped quickly aside to make way for others coming down after them. Dram looked at the dozen guns facing his one and stood very still. The newcomers gestured for him to drop his gun and sword, and he did, watching expressionless as they disappeared into the dark waters and were gone. Kit SummerIsle dropped his sword without waiting to be told. The maids moved a little away from Lionstone to form a defensive circle around the throne, staring at the newcomers with unblinking insect eyes. The courtiers were all shouting and talking at once, and one word rose again and again above the rest. 

Elves … the elves have found us. …

“Honor to the Esper Liberation Front!” shouted one of the newcomers, a young woman in battered leathers and far too many chains, over a T-shirt bearing the legend “Born To Burn.” She was short and stocky, with muscles bulging on her bare arms. Her long dark hair was full of knotted ribbons, and she might have been pretty if her eyes hadn’t been alight with the fire of the true fanatic. Other elves gathered around her; half trained their guns on the quieting court, the others on the throne. Lionstone watched in silence from behind her maids, her eyes full of fury. Neither she nor Dram nor anyone in the court was foolish enough to go up against energy weapons. 

The esper terrorists looked hard and roughly used, but the chains holding their leathers together were freshly polished, and they all wore bright colors on their faces and in their hair. Most of them were young, some barely out of their teens, but they all had scars somewhere on their bare skin. The Empire used espers harshly, which was why so many died or went rogue. Most died. There were very few old espers. The elf wearing the “Born To Burn” T-shirt stepped forward and bowed mockingly to the silent court.

“Sorry about the mess, but a good entrance is so important. Now be good boys and girls, and do as you’re told, and you’ll be able to leave here with all your major organs intact and still attached in the right places. Annoy us, and we’ll think of something amusing to do to you. And some of us have a really nasty sense of humor. Being an outlaw can do that to you.” 

She turned to look at Lionstone. “Relax, dear, we’re not here to kill you. We’ve come for one of our own. Now do you want to step down from that throne, or would you rather be thrown down?” 

Lionstone rose to her feet and stepped down into the dark waters with icy dignity. The maids moved immediately to surround her. The elf ignored them all and crouched down beside the throne, running her hands carefully over the black iron studded with jade. 

“Do you have a name, traitor?” said the Empress. 

“Stevie Blue; not at all pleased to meet you.” 

“My guards will be here soon. There is no way you can hope to escape.” 

“Your guards are currently being run in circles by associates of ours. Your only protectors are those poor mind-burned souls acting as your maids, and the esp-blocker built into your throne. Ah, got it.” 

She slid back a recessed panel in the side of the throne and carefully removed a translucent cube the size of her head. An esp-blocker was really quite a simple device: the living brain of an esper, removed from its body and held in suspension. A low current passed constantly through the frontal lobes, keeping the brain awake and aware and functioning, using its esp to prevent any other esper abilities from functioning in its vicinity. Just another hell the Empire made, and the only real defense against a rogue esper. Or an elf. 

Stevie Blue lifted the cube above her head and brought it down with savage force on the arm of the throne. The fragile container shattered, and the brain tissue fell apart, already dying. The bloody tissues slipped down the side of the throne and dripped into the water.

“Be at peace, my friend,” said Stevie softly. “The fight goes on.” She turned her gaze on Lionstone again. “That’s one less soul living in a hell you made for them.” 

Lionstone smiled. “I’ll get another. There’s no shortage of donors.” 

She broke off as the elf took a step forward and then stopped herself. Stevie Blue looked at her coldly. “I could kill you now, Lionstone. Any of us could. We want your death so badly we can taste it. We dream about it at night and wake to plan new ways of taking it. One day we’ll take your precious Empire apart stone by stone till there’s nowhere left for you to hide, and then we’ll come for you. But if we were to kill you now, while you’re weak and helpless, you’d just be replaced by another from your corrupt line, and the new Emperor would order massive reprisals among the esper community. Thousands would die, and thousands more would suffer. But we didn’t want to leave without giving you some indication of our true feelings for you. So we brought you a little present.”

She reached back and a large cream pie was placed in her hand. Stevie Blue grinned at Lionstone’s shocked expression, and then aimed and threw the pie with one easy motion. It hit Lionstone squarely in the face, and she fell back a step, clawing at the mess on her face. 

Stevie laughed. “You’d be justified in calling for reprisals over an assassination attempt, but over a pie in the face? You’d just look extremely petty. Not to mention weak. Goodbye, Lionstone. It’s been a pleasure.” 

Lionstone glared past the thick swirls of cream and pointed a quivering finger at the elves. “Kill them! Kill them all!”

The maids sprang to obey. They surged forward, steel claws shooting out from under their fingernails, and the elves went to meet them, manifesting their abilities. Stevie Blue wrapped herself in fire, living flames of pure heat, but the maids jumped her anyway. They were beyond such weaknesses as pain or fear. Stevie disappeared beneath the clawing figures, and the other elves raced to help her. The maids split up to greet them. They fell upon the first two espers and tore them apart with their unnatural strength. Blood flew on the air as the elves screamed and died. One esper gestured desperately, and the maids stopped suddenly as though they’d slammed into an invisible wall. And then they stumbled forward again as the wall collapsed. Stevie Blue’s flames flickered and went out. Lionstone laughed and sat upon her throne again. 

“You didn’t really think I’d trust my safety to just the one esp-blocker, did you?” She had to shout the last part over rising screams as the maids moved among the desperate elves. Disrupters fired, but the maids moved too quickly to be hit. Then they were among the elves, and it was too dangerous to use the guns anymore. The maids leapt among the espers like wolves in the fold, tearing at defenseless flesh with their clawed hands and stuffing the bloody meat into their mouths. They were hungry. One esper stuck his gun in a maid’s mouth and fired it. The maid’s head exploded, spraying bloody gobbets everywhere. Another maid appeared behind the esper and wrapped her arms around him in a bearhug. The esper’s ribs collapsed and drove inward, piercing his heart and lungs. The remaining elves tried to run, but the maids were everywhere. The elves fell, one by one, until finally only one man remained free. He ran toward the throne and tried to fire his disrupter, but the energy crystal was still recharging. He threw the useless gun aside and drew his sword. A maid jumped him and pulled him down into the water. She held him under and watched impersonally as he drowned. He kicked and struggled, and then his sword thrust up out of the water and slammed into the maid’s belly. The force of the blow threw her back, and the esper burst up out of the water, coughing and choking. He fixed his gaze on Lionstone again and hefted his sword. He moved forward, and the maid jumped him from behind. She concentrated in the way she’d been taught, and the shrapnel bomb set inside her body exploded. Both she and the elf were torn apart by the blast, and blood and shrapnel rained down for long moments.

Blue, crouching torn and bloodied in the water at the base of the throne. She’d managed to draw her sword, but her hand was trembling violently from the shock and pain of her wounds. She stumbled forward, forcing herself on, her bloody mouth set and determined. Dram stepped in behind her and ran her through with his sword. Stevie Blue fell to her knees. She whimpered, and blood ran from her mouth. Dram pulled his sword out and she shook once, as though at a sudden chill. Lionstone stepped down from her throne to kneel before her. She had an ornate silver dagger in her hand. She leaned forward till her face was right before the esper’s.

“Have you nothing left to say to me, elf? About how weak I am, or how clever you were? No last declaration for the cause?” 

Stevie shuddered again. Blood poured down her chin. When she spoke, only the Empress could hear her. 

“I’ll be back. There are lots like me. One of us will gel you. Burn in hell, bitch.” 

Lionstone slid the dagger delicately into Stevie’s heart and breathed the esper’s dying exhalation into her own mouth, savoring it like a connoisseur. She pulled out the dagger, put her fingertips against the esper’s breast and pushed. Stevie Blue fell back into the dark water and lay still. Lionstone straightened up, made the dagger disappear up her sleeve again, and allowed Dram to help her up onto the throne again. 

“Elves never talk,” Dram said casually. “They program their minds to self-destruct, rather than give up any secrets. If anything, you gave her an easy death.” 

“You always want to spoil my fun, Dram. She died in despair. That will do for me. For the moment, I’m more interested in how that many elves got past your security defenses.” 

“A good question,” said Dram. “And one which I will be putting to my staff very forcefully once this audience is over. I can only assume I have a traitor somewhere in my organization.” 

“I thought that was supposed to be impossible.”

“So did I. If there is a traitor, I’ll find him.”

“I hope so, Dram,” said the Empress. “Because if I can’t trust you to protect me, what use are you?” 

Dram smiled and carefully dipped a finger into the traces of cream still on her face. He tasted it thoughtfully. “Brandy buttersauce. My favorite. If nothing else, the elves do have excellent taste.” 

“Of course,” said Lionstone, “just ask my maids.”

[jessjamz-blog1]

HERE’S A THING: KYLIE HUGHES - SELF TITLED

In which we go track by track of the new album and I tell you some things.

1. "Heat"

I'm so embarrassed to say that I didn't really realize this song wasn't referring to cars / driving literally, but it's SUCH a strong opening song that gives a really good feel for what the album's sound is like. It's easy to see why it was picked as one of the singles -- this song is so catchy and has such a great hook that you really can't help but singalong. It's got a great vibe and interesting lyrics and shows off her vocals well -- this song is the reason why I decided to keep listening to the album.

2. "Gotta Get Out"

I'm sure Kylie's gotten comparisons to Taylor Swift in the past, but dude, this song is SUCH a Taylor Swift song. But like, the era of Taylor Swift that was my absolute favorite. This is easily one of my favorites on the album, and it almost completely has to do with the details: the stomp claps in the background are a great touch to a song that's meant to be sung with your girlfriends in a car with the top down. The background harmonies are gorgeous, but (and this is going to be the Vocal Major in me) her diction in the song's verses is so strong and straight *clap* to *clap* the *clap* point that it makes me want to sing this in a sassy voice that I don't even really have. Don't even get me started on that sick sick build of 'shit that you don't need' that builds to the chorus. GENIUS.

3. "Leave It Alone"

Alright... I have to admit, this song I had to give a few listens to before I dug it. It's not that it's a bad song -- it's actually catchy as hell once I got into it -- but it does feel a little out of place in the album as a whole. Whereas every song I can hear the Shania Twain and Taylor Swift influences, this one is 100% an Elle King "Ex's and Oh's" comparison for me. Again, not a bad thing, but I only just started liking that song. So.

4. "Love Somebody Else"

HEEEEELP. I love sad songs. It's the 2000s emo kid in me. This song kills me but like, in the best possible way. "I'm as good as it gets / but if you want second best, be my guest and go on and love somebody else" -- OUCH. Right in my heart. Listen, I'm a heartless bitch and haven't been in love with somebody in a very very long time but this song makes me want to gaze soulfully out the window as the rain pours outside. "Love Somebody Else" is a movie moment.

5. "Always On Your Side"

The 46 second long intro in this song is everything. Everything. It really brings you on the journey of the song itself: "you won't ever leave this town, but if you wanna burn it down, I'll help you light it" is such beautiful imagery and wordplay and it's complemented perfectly by the music, with the haunting piano combining with the crashing drums. This is another one of my favorites on the album.

6. "Little Did You Know"

I consider this and the past two songs the Emo Era of this album. Look, it's not a bad thing. I told you, I love sad songs. And this is the perfect trifecta to the Emo Era: "Little Did You Know" is such an angry, sad, frustrated, above it all song and the build to the key change in the end is perfectly executed. Yet another one of my favorites on the album, with lyrics like "little did you know, you had me / and I don't miss you at all" speaking volumes. And the outro is a perfect contemplative way to bring an end to the song, with it just softly fading away. A++++

7. "Hungover"

This has a bit of an indie feel to it that I'm pretty into. Still the country / pop you're used to at this point on the album, but just a bit of an edge to it that if you find your interest waning halfway through, this definitely will pick it back up. One of my favorite parts about the way Kylie does music is that she can take lyrics that sound dumb, like "passed out on the couch / with pizza in my mouth / don't know how I got home / but thank god I'm here alone," and breathe life and a new angle to them with her vocals and music. "Hungover" on first listen sounds dumb... but is easily one of my favorite songs lyrics-wise on the album.

8. "Dead or Alive​"

"You force my hand, you won't win this fight / gonna take you dead or alive"

This song -- its lyrics and instrumentals -- could have easily come across as cheesy. You can't deny that. It's a fine line. But "Dead Or Alive" walks it perfectly, sounding like a song I could easily see performed live by an opening act for John Mayer (which, guess what, Kylie once did). The guitar solo is killer and her yell of 'save your soul tonight!' near the end honestly had me whispering out loud in the middle of Starbucks, "well damn."

9. "Uh Huh"

Gonna be honest, this is probably one of my favorite produced songs on the album. Kylie's voice just sits so perfectly in the track. ANYWAY, music major nerdiness aside, this song is probably one of the easier listens on the album and one of the most pop. It's one of those songs I can imagine sitting poolside to, just soaking in the sun, for like, a moody Lana Del Rey summer. It's understated -- maybe in a way that it shouldn't be for a song that's 9th on the album, but I digress -- but it holds its own against the rest of the album.

10. "Free Fallin"

I WAS HOPING THIS WAS A TOM PETTY COVER AND IT'S NOT BUT IT'S OKAY. But Kylie, do one please. It would be dope.

Anyway. Whereas the last song was a "Summertime Sadness" song, this one is 100% an Ingrid Michaelson "Girls Chase Boys" track. It's just so feel-good: it makes me think about my college days when nothing really mattered because I was ~not a girl, not yet a woman~. It's running through the streets in the middle of the night, bonfires on the beach, skating down the boardwalk... it's probably the best way to spend your summer.

11. "I Can't Believe We're In Love"

I'm sorry, but this is another song that I'm still struggling to like in the context of the album. I like it -- I think it's a very sweet track -- but so close to the end, it's easily forgettable.

12. "Forever Is A Long Way"

Kylie's vocals are beautiful in this track, but again, a bit unmemorable. I have this theory that -- like playing live -- the last song on an album should be the epic showstopper, the one that sticks with you. Because it's the last song you hear and the last impression you get of an album. And this is a good song, but it's just like... that's it?

CLICK HERE to buy the new album, and be sure to keep up with Kylie (not to be confused with Keeping Up With the Kardashians):

Website Facebook Instagram Soundcloud Twitter

[magpiewords]

March AU Madness 02

This was supposed to be a flash fill but I accidentally wrote 1700 words of bantery fluff. Eh, I had fun writing it. Hope you have fun reading it!

newspaper advice columnists who passive-aggressively diss one another in their advice au

Dear Iron Man, I’m about to go in and ask my boss for a raise. I know I deserve it, but I’m still nervous! Any tips? Thanks, Corporate Ladder-er 

Tony chuckled as he picked the reader to answer this week. As CEO of Stark Times, he so often found himself bored between proofing publications. Their paper went out twice a week, which left five days of nearly nothing to do. Well, not nothing, Tony was sure, but Pepper took care of all those minor troubles. To fill his time, and to fill a half a page in the gossip spread, Tony thought running an advice column would be fun. And oh, was it fun. Especially now that the Shield Chronicle was trying to keep up with them.

Dear Captain America, I just got a promotion! However, my new department is very different and I have a lot of new responsibilities. I want to succeed, I want to impress the department heads, but I don’t like working overtime- I want to have my own life too! This new position seems to require a lot more hours than I expected. How can I balance work and relaxation? From Unbalanced

The Captain was a poor pseudonym. It took five seconds on the Chronicle’s employee page to discover Steve Rogers had served in the army, with a rank of the same name. Tony had almost completely forgotten about Rogers; while rivals in NYU’s journalism program, they disappeared from each other’s lives after graduation. Apparently, Rogers had not forgotten about him.

 Dear Unbalanced, Work/life balance is a skill to be mastered with time. Spending all night locked in your office, forgetting to eat and ignoring people’s phone calls, is bad for your wellbeing and the health of everyone around you. On the other hand, having crazy weekends in Barbados isn’t the path to success either. Talk to your department about setting clear hours, and plan your social life around that. If work gets to be too much, they give you vacation days for a reason. Hopefully, you can find your own source of relaxation at work. I know I have. Congratulations on your promotion, by the way. Sincerely, Captain America

Four years of memories rushed back as Tony read the rival paper. Even as they competed with each other, Steve had watched out for Tony. Those late college nights often involved a midnight pizza delivery or coffee runs together. They were special moments, some of Tony’s favorites. And Steve had just throw those memories to the public without a care of who could connect the dots! Because it didn’t take a genius to remember Tony’s spring-break-week-turned-month in Barbados a few years back. He had been a new CEO and it made the front page of every paper, including the Shield Chronicle and Stark Times.

“Relaxation at work my ass.” Tony knew Rogers juggled the advice column with a busy investigative schedule, but he always knew his old rival was something of a hypocrite. At least some things don’t change. “Want to be petty, Stevie? Because two can play at that game.”

Dear Ladder-er, The key to all success is confidence. Go to your boss, be direct, and be proud of what you’ve done. Those late nights in the office are worth a lot. Whatever you do, don’t be passive aggressive about it, because it’s not clever and everyone will see right through what you’re doing. If you have something to say, say it to their face. XOXO, Iron Man

The publication went out a day later, and the following week, The Chronicle had another letter responded to.

Dear Captain America, I’m starting high school next month. My friends are all excited, but everything is changing. They wear different clothes now, listen to different music. One of my friends even dyed her hair! I don’t want to get left behind, but I like my clothes and music. If high school is anything like the movies, without my friends I’ll be eaten alive. I can’t lie to them, I’m no good at lying. How do I change who I am? From, Metamorphosis 

Dear Meta, The only answer I have for your question is: don’t. Don’t change yourself. True friends will accept you no matter what you wear or listen to. You should always be true to yourself. If not, you could end up like Iron Man over at Stark Times, he’s a shallow copy of what he thought he was supposed to be and I don’t think he’s very happy like that. You should do what makes you happy and friends will naturally follow. Sincerely, Captain America

“That bitch!” Tony throws his tablet across his office, the digital copy of the Chronicle still on the screen.

“What did Everhart say this time?” Pepper says calmly, voice carrying between the doors of their respective workplaces.

“Not her. That idiot at the Chronicle is slandering me!”

“It’s not slander if it’s not your real name.”

Tony huffs at that, but goes to pick up his tablet. Much more satisfying to throw than physical newspaper would be, especially since he wouldn’t be caught dead giving money to that sham of a reporting group. At least the tablet was sturdy.

“Alright Rogers, I can do high school drama.”

Dear Iron Man, Help!! The school musical is in three days and my co-star just quit! It can’t possibly be my fault; he was acting like a jerk while we rehearsed. Never memorized his lines, always showing up late, I couldn’t stand it!  I’ll admit, I said some harsh things, but he was mean right back! Now the director wants me to apologize to him. Should I? Thanks, Broadway Bound

Dear Broadway, Tell that little bitch-

 “Tony we can’t publish that.”

“I am the CEO, I can publish whatever I want!”

“Tony.”

“Fine.”

Dear Broadway, Apologizing is a hard thing to do, but it’s also an art form. You need this co-star for the show, and you need your director to keep you in a positive light. If something mean was said, apologizing is the right thing to do. You’ll look like the bigger person. Someone who isn’t petty is always someone successful. You wouldn’t want to end up like Captain America over at Shield Chronicle, who is incredibly petty. Someone like that is a real asshole-

“Tony, please.” 

Someone like that is a real jerk, and you’re better than that, Broadway. Break a leg! XOXO, Iron Man

The columns continue for weeks, each becoming slightly less related to the original problem of the anonymous sender. The letters coming in start to change in nature, whatever issue is presented acting as a pretty obvious front of indulging the Iron Man VS Captain America feud.

“Look man,” James Rhodes was from sales, but Rhodey was Tony’s long time coffee companion.  They walked out of the Starbucks down the street together as the lunch hour was ending. “I don’t know what your deal is with the guys at Chronicle, but our reader numbers are higher than ever since your column got stupid.”

“It’s not stupid,” Tony grumbles, “He’s stupid.”

 “You’re both stupid, but stupid sells so keep doing whatever you’re doing.”

Whatever Tony was doing takes an interesting twist when the papers come out at the start of the week. Both Stark Times and Shield Chronicle’s advice columns happen to feature the same letter, but with very different responses from the two papers.

I love my job. It’s stressful, but I’m good at it. I enjoy a challenge, but sometimes I can only take so much. Recently, my work partner has been acting stranger than usual. He’s always a workaholic, but there are weeks where I’m pretty sure he’s worn the same suit every day. He’s always loud and obnoxious, but I can hear him ranting even when I close my office door. He’s obsessed with this new project and I’m happy for him, but I need to keep my own sanity. Every time I try to bring it up politely with him, he doesn’t seem to pay attention. He’s a bit of a news junky, so I thought writing in to the paper could help. Also, he keeps stealing my leftovers in the office fridge and I need him to know I’m not happy about it. Regards, Red Hot Chili 

Dear Red Hot, I truly hope your coworker will read my response. His behavior is absolutely unacceptable in the workplace, no matter how brilliant or important his work may be. No matter the job, everyone needs to go home and sleep. If his behavior continues, see if you can take it higher up. But if even the CEO wont listen, I’m afraid you’ll have to tune him out. Try some good headphones and your favorite album. I recommend Mumford and Sons. Or perhaps you can move his office. This guy sounds a lot like ol’ Iron Man, and those types love a dimly lit basement to overwork themselves in. That type also has a low spice tolerance; next time, spike your chili with jalapeños. Sincerely, Captain America

Dear Chili Pepper, If this guy buys you lunch for the next week and closes his own door more often, do you think you could forgive him? XOXO, Iron Man

Pepper seemed content to dig into the chili Tony brought her as they worked late the following evening. “I expect a Louis Vuitton sized bonus this month,” She says around her fork, “They have some new pumps I was looking at.”

“Consider it done. Did you really have to write in to both papers though?” He stabs his fork into his own bowl of chili. Pepper just shrugs.

“Be lucky I’m not actually moving you to the basement.”

Tony laughs. Despite his higher position in the company, they both know she could very well have his office moved through various means. Between bites, he looks at the Chronicle again, the ink of the paper seeming to itch itself onto his skin.

“You didn’t say anything about my work being brilliant, though.”

Pepper looks up at Tony’s non-sequitur, before a fond smile crosses her face. “Well it is, but no, I didn’t.”

Dear Captain America,

Do you believe that time heals all wounds? The last time I spoke to a person in my life, we left on poor terms. This person is now coming back into my life in an admittedly strange way. He’s still the same stubborn, reckless jerk I remember, still the same funny and charming guy too. Aside from Mumford and Sons, how can start again with him? XOXO, Heart of Gold

Though the letter Tony sends to the Chronicle never gets published, his own submissions box gets a response the next day.

Dear Iron Man, How does a date sound? Sincerely, Stubborn Solider

[acoolguyscoollife]

Chapter 33: Mirror Image

Seth

The first immediately noticeable thing was that wherever I had been placed, nobody else had been put here with me. The second noticeable thing was that I was at home. Now what in the heck? Eddie was quickly interested in everything surrounding us, and it was hard to keep myself in control to get my bearings properly. It was my bedroom, but it didn’t take a genius to figure out that it definitely wasn’t really.

Sure enough, when I tried to interact with my computer, instead of being greeted by my usual background of inappropriate pictures, I witnessed a view of my room from a bird’s-eye corner. It was slightly trippy, to say the least. I tried pressing random keys, but each one gave me no response. Knowing I’d get nowhere, I looked around the room to see if there was anything out of place that I could remember from the last time I was here. At that point, I realised exactly how long it had been since I had been at home, and any idea I’d had of how my room had been left when I had last been in it had quickly faded into the back of my mind. On instinct, I went to a bookshelf and took one of the books off of it, examining it carefully. The spine was well-worn, a title I’d gone through again and again when I was younger, but the familiar words that were normally on the front of it were now jumbled, incoherent messes. Each page read the same, nothing legible at all in it. What was most odd about this was that while I knew it was supposedly impossible to read in dreams, I also knew that the subconscious would be able to fill in what the book was supposed to read if I already knew that. Whatever this place was, it wasn’t engineered from my mind. It was engineered from someone else’s view of the room, which only begged the question of how they knew what this room was. Maybe they were spying on all of you? Eddie’s theory didn’t hold much water, but it definitely led me into thinking. The details of the room were barely there, but the general idea was. It felt like the answer as to what was going on was at the tip of my tongue, but yet nothing could possibly explain it. On top of everything else, I knew that despite the already glaring errors of the room’s details, there was something else that stuck out like a sore thumb. I swept my eyes across the area again, looking carefully for anything that was clearly wrong, and for a moment, I didn’t see it. But then, when I looked back, what I had assumed to be a trick of my mind or the light revealed itself. The mirror’s image of me wasn’t following the same movements as I was. It was just watching, with a smug smile and a look in the eyes that made me uncomfortable seeing coming from my own expression.

“Confused?” Mirror-me asked, in the voice of someone I’d never heard before. Was that what I sounded like? Dear god, I had to fix that. That’s clearly Untermeyer. Eddie had a valid point but even then, I would have hated to sound like that.

“A little, yeah.” I replied, not giving him the satisfaction of getting worked up. “You know, you could have given me something to read. How’d you make this place, anyway?” In return, Gerald smiled wryly, the curve of his (my) mouth slightly exposing one of the canines inside my mouth.

“I have witnessed everything that your group of rag-tag misfits have been doing since the start, even before the four of you were reunited.” Gerald replied, clearly happy with himself.

“Yet you couldn’t get the details of the books down.” I said deadpan, causing his smile to disappear.

“I wouldn’t dream of concerning myself with the details of your petty lives. I have seen everything in time leading to this moment, no matter how long ago it was. I have gained omniscience, and I can tell you now that the plan you have won’t work.” The mirror’s image rippled for a moment, and briefly I saw the man who was underneath. The skin was gnarled and pale, wrinkled beyond belief. Despite having never seen Untermeyer before, I knew that he was definitely not how he had looked before.

“So, there’s no surprises with the plan then. How do you know it won’t work?” I was keeping my casual demeanour, but my eyes were darting around the room, trying to figure out how I could get out of here. Magic felt like something I would have to try, but I had no experience working with it, so it would have to be a lot of energy put into one precise way to break out.

“Your friends can’t be trusted. The one you called Cool Guy lied to you about the girl he was in love with, Tabitha consistently keeps secrets from you, and Amy is barely honest with herself, never mind anyone else.” The mirror-me was smug, more than he had been before. He was enjoying this, and he wasn’t intent on hiding it. Luckily for me, I was also enjoying this.

“Is that really the best you can do?” I asked, causing the smirk to drop from his face. “You played your hand too soon by saying you had seen everything leading to this moment, and you know just as well as I do that neither of us can say what the future holds. You’re bluffing.” Bingo. The mirror cracked slightly from the sides as the version of me on the other end shimmered, then disappeared. Untermeyer had revealed himself, and it was worse than I had thought from what I’d seen briefly of him before. His skin wasn’t just wrinkled, it was stretched taut in some areas and peeling off in others. He was decaying. There was little hair left on his head, small tufts and strands straying off in random, uncoordinated directions. His eyes were grey and glassy, pinprick pupils staring directly at me as if trying to look through me instead of at me. I had no words, stunned into silence from his appearance. Eddie, however, did. Gross.

“You must think you’re clever, bonding with a shadow to defeat me. But even that won’t help you. A parasite is a parasite, just a creature with no brain functions and only a single desire, to feed. Soon enough, you’ll lose what he’s given you. And then, where will you be?” When Untermeyer opened his mouth, it revealed the few remaining teeth, brown and rotting, most likely unused at this point. He’s lying. I’ll stay with you ‘til the end of the line.

“I’ll be the same as I was before, a guy with a gun who knows how to use it.” As I said this, I raised the pistol to punctuate it. He didn’t flinch, staring down the barrel of the gun directly at me still. “And you’ll be shattered, forced to forever be incomplete again.” The smirk returned to Untermeyer’s face, looking a lot more forced this time around with his leathery skin.

“Then why aren’t you firing? Surely, if you hit me now, you can gain the advantage?” He was trying to goad me into attacking him, and I knew full well that breaking the only thing separating the two of us would be a fatal mistake. “Or, are you aware that without your friends, you’re nothing?” My finger instinctively tightened, and I almost fired at him with that remark.

“You say that as if it’s a bad thing.” I replied through gritted teeth. “We’re a team, and I’m not stupid enough to think I could defeat you by myself.” Despite the fact I wasn’t truly by myself, I still knew that Eddie and I wouldn’t be able to do it alone.

“You’re not stupid enough, no. But you’re also not strong enough to even try. The one with the sword immediately tried to take me down, even by himself. The alchemist and her little familiar have both been putting up a good fight, and even Tabitha, my replacement, has been destroying the manifestations I send at her while still searching for her – no, our mentor. Yet you have been standing stock-still since the moment you got here, running your mouth more than anything else.” Untermeyer’s cold, empty stare finally began to work its way into me, making my skin shiver and the hairs on my neck stand on end. “You’re nothing. Just a bit-player in a battle you couldn’t even begin to comprehend.” Something about his words hit me then, but not in the way he was intending. As if a lightbulb had illuminated above my head, I realised exactly what he was trying to do. He had given away that he was fighting everyone else at the same time as being here, so while he normally would have destroyed me if I had tried to fight him, he wasn’t at his full power. I said something to Eddie in my head, getting a confirmation of the plan back to me, and smiled at Untermeyer.

“I’m more than just a bit part.” I said, confidence filling my body like warmth from a fire. “I’m Seth Allen, and I fight for my friends.” His expression turned to one of worry as he realised that I’d caught on. “Bitch.” I pulled the trigger, and the mirror shattered. As the shards fell, so too did the room around me, crumbling away into nothingness and revealing the abyss behind the illusion. The bullet-hole in Untermeyer had already began to heal, but Eddie was quickly on it as I raised my hand. Tendrils of shadow shot out from multiple places on my wrist and hand, stabbing into him and ripping chunks out of his body. The wounds healed nearly as quickly as I made them, but I wasn’t aiming to kill. Screaming, Untermeyer swung at me, a blast of something very similar to what was coming out of my hand flying directly towards me. Acting on instinct and what I had seen Tabitha do before, I dropped to one knee and raised my other arm as a defence, the shadow-beam hitting my arm and a now-existent translucent panel. As soon as the barrage of energy stopped, I spun on my heel, diving for the pistol and firing it into him repeatedly. Each one stunned him a little, but he still began to advance on me, body shrugging off the hits. Eddie’s attacks ceased, his tendrils receding inside me again, as I moved to get more distance behind Untermeyer and I.

“You can’t escape destiny!” He half-growl, half-yelled. “I’m going to destroy this world, and all of them! Reality will be mine to do as I command!” I continued running, looking back at him every chance I got, but the ground shot up in front of me, preventing me from running further. “Do you think staying loyal to your friends will save you?!” With nowhere else to go, I turned back to face Untermeyer. He was still advancing on me, no smug smile this time, instead a face filled with rage and hatred. I shot at him a few more times, but this time, he barely faltered as the bullets hit him. One of Eddie’s tendrils shot out quickly, holding another magazine for my gun, and I reloaded as fast as I could before putting a few more bullets into him. I wasn’t sure how I was going to escape from this, brain rapidly trying to find an escape route. But then, the same lightbulb from before clicked, this time bringing a much worse realisation. Loyalty. He hadn’t explicitly said it, but Untermeyer was trying to turn us. And at this junction, there were only two options. Join him, or die staying loyal. I recalled the Elder’s prophecy as Untermeyer closed the distance, knowing already what I was about to do. The most loyal would die.

“I’m not going to join you.” I said, energy gone now. Untermeyer stopped in place, around fifteen feet away from me. He raised a hand in response, small orbs of darkness beginning to join together in his hand, growing larger. I took a deep breath, my heart-rate surprisingly steady as I accepted what was about to happen. “CG, you’d better kill this son of a bitch.” I said, more to myself than to Untermeyer, before closing my eyes. I heard the sound of the ball of darkness firing towards me, my breath catching in my throat as the loud noise reverberated across the chasm-like room we were in. A sound came after, a sharp striking noise that pierced my eardrums, and then, silence. Silence and darkness. It felt peaceful, serene and calm in just the right ways. In fact, it would have been perfect if not for… Wait, what the hell just happened? Eddie was here too. It made sense, of course. He had been part of me when I died, so now, in whatever afterlife we were in, we were still linked. Hey, dumbass, we’re not dead. Open your eyes. I hadn’t realised I had been making an effort to keep them closed until I let myself open them again, and realised with a start that something had gotten in the way of the attack. There were two craters in the ground not far from either side of me, where attacks had clearly struck, but neither of them had directly hit me. And, directly in front of me, where Untermeyer had attacked from, stood someone else, almost silhouetted by the light emanating from the front of him.

“You know, as cool as that was, it’s my job to be cool.” CG said as he looked back at me, grinning. Oh, that motherfu-

[wolfarmystories]

A Version of AU

(So I wrote this for my Creative Writing class; it’s a form of an crossover I wanted to do but never did (mainly because it’s so big with a LOT of fandoms). In the spirit of Never Before Seen, I present my Final Piece for that class X3

Fandoms: Power Rangers, Gotham, Hetalia, Numb3rs, Whedonverse, Harry Potter, Katekyo Hitman Reborn!

Characters: Oswld Cobblepot, Ivan Braginski, Charlie Epps, Tommy Oliver, Kimberly Ann, Tsuki Kokuryuu, Sabrina Nightshade

Category: Crossover AU

Summary: See Introduction

Introduction:

The city of Hyperion is a strange city, full of strange people and strange situations. Almost a sentient being in and of itself, the city contains all sorts; gangsters and police, angels and demons (both literal and metaphorical), gods and mortals (also both in the literal sense and in the metaphoric sense), those who are happy and those who are unhappy. Four libraries, one of which no one knows about. A high school. An university. The mansion owned by the Penguin Gang. The old estate kept by the Braginski Russian Mafia family. The police station and city hall and the Iceberg Lodge. And The End Bar.

This is the starting point: Ivan Braginski has lost his prized songbird and the thief? Oswald Cobblepot.

This is the problem: Ivan leads the Braginski family, one of the two most powerful families in Hyperion. Oswald is the master puppeteer who commands the Penguin Gang, the other powerful group.

This is the situation: In anger Ivan has declared war and split Hyperion down the middle. If his bird is not returned? Then he will destroy half of Hyperion and with it the despicable pest who took her.

This is the truth: Oswald wants power. And to get it he steals away the girlfriend of Ivan, the blind songstress Sabrina. And in doing so has started a war that threats all of the city. School is at a standstill as children, teens and adults alike cannot get to the university, high school, junior high, elementary without passing through warlines. The people making the laws are under Ivan's control but the people who would uphold those laws are Oswald's. The streets are unsafe. The people are afraid and confused. And in the middle of it, the only neutral ground is the bar owned by Sabrina's cousin, Tsuki. No one dares fights at The End. No one dares piss off Oswald by trying to take it for Ivan. No one dares claim it for Oswald under Ivan's watchful eye. And no one wants Tsuki or her workers to beat them to a bloody pulp by trying anything.

Peace is a forgotten dream...or is it?

With the tensions in the air...

And the chance for change standing on the shoulders of five individuals specifically...

Let us bring up the curtain and see how this grand old play will continue tonight; let the players take their stage and tell us their stories.

Begin the tale and with it, The End....

Ivan:

(Songs: This Means War (Avenged Sevenfold, especially important), Legion of Evil (OFF!), Throne (Bring Me The Horizon), The Red (Chevelle), Dark Side of Me (Coheed and Cambria), Destruction (Joywave), Never Giving Up (Of Mice and Men), This is War (Thirty Seconds to Mars), Angel of Darkness (Alex C))

Toris knew from the sound of breaking glass that things were not going to be easy or good today. Walking down the eastern hallway of the old manor he happened to glance at servants and allies, even Borsche the cat, running from the inner rooms. And it left him feeling more and more cold as he made his way inward; he didn't really want to do this but he really had no choice. Ivan was in the middle of picking the last of his priceless antique Russian lamp up off the table and shattering it like its kin when the door opened. Started to open; the lamp, originally meant for the western wall, made contact with the wood instead and there was a familiar shriek that told him Toris was on the other side. Normally terrorizing him amused the large Russian, making Toris squeal and cry, but it didn't amuse him now. Nothing was going to amuse him until he got his way and completely destroyed his enemy. "S-sir," Toris stuttered, sticking his head tentatively through the door, fear clear on his face. Ivan glared at him and put a hand on the heavy bible kept on the same table as the lamp used to. "Did you need something, Toris?" Toris frowned and bit his lip some before gulping and walking in. "Y-yes, s-s-sir-" "Toris," Ivan said and the smile that slipped onto his face did nothing to make Toris feel more calm. "Y-yes?" "You do realize what I will do to you if you don't stop stuttering right now, da?" Toris paled and nodded vigorously; the smile fell then. "What is it then?" "It's about, um," Toris said and hesitated; he knew what he said next might get him killed but Ivan himself had told him to inform him of any developments pertaining to the current situation. He gulped again, "The Penguin Gang." He barely evaded the book that came flying at his head and with wide eyes he stared at Ivan. The man was visibly fuming, his eyes narrowed and his form, still in the stance to throw the book relaxed only after another minute and he breathed through his nose, "Yes Toris? What about them?" "In light of your declaration of half of the city being blocked against them," Toris started, "Including the high school, university and food stores, the Penguin Gang has..." "Yes?" He sighed and put his hands behind his back, trying to stand at attention. "The Penguin Gang has attempted to break the blockade and in return have blocked our men from the hospital." There was a silence for a moment then a noise, more beast than man, more primal than human, erupted. Toris was shaken and could only look on with abject horror as Ivan once more resumed destroying his room. The Mafia boss kicked the table, demolishing it easily; curses and threats, all spoken in a quick Russian, filled the air, only joined with English near the end. "That little crippled pigeon; him and his entire gang of bastards, as if taking my songbird from me was not crime enough for them. Who does he think he is, a petty little jester trying to bite the king?" He growled and turned on Toris and suddenly it struck him that Ivan meant for him to reply. He tried, grasping at words but before any could leave his lips Ivan was on him, grabbing him by the throat and heaving him up pressed him hard again the wall. Toris winced and gasped for breath but it was difficult, so very difficult, and Ivan, smiling once more with a dangerous gleam in his eyes, spoke gently. Too gently. "Well then, Toris, if the deformed bird wants a war than who are we to say no to him, da?" He tightened his grip and Toris could feel his face heat up as his inability to breathe got worse with the pressure. Tears welled up in his eyes but Ivan did not notice; his attention was elsewhere. "Yes, we will teach that damned pest why I rule this city and he is but a fool, running around my feet." With that he finally dropped Toris and the underling gasped and gulped down air as much and as fast as he could. Ivan paid him no mind, walking back into the room. He made his way to the only standing chair and sitting down he continued to smile at Toris. "Tell our men this: Let no one through the borderline. No one. We have obviously been far too lenient. From now on anyone coming from the Southern portion of the city is considered an ally of Cobblepot and his Penguin Gang." Toris spoke before thinking, "Sir? Um, a few of the kids from the elementary, junior high and high school live below the border; what about-" "They are enemies of our family, Toris," Ivsn said with a sharp but kind tone; he smiled more, "You wouldn't want our family to be hurt more, do you? Not after they stole our lovely songbird." Toris paled but shook his head obediently. He had to ask though, "And, um, what of Tsuki and The End? It is-" He didn't know where the bottle came from but making contact with his face and shattering he screamed, falling to his knees in pain, trying to pull out the glass. Ivan spoke smoothly, "Do not speak of that woman. Now go get cleaned up; you look unsightly." Toris cried but managed, bleeding and weak, to get back to his feet and retreated from the room. Leaving Ivan on his own and the man brooded in his chair for a moment. Another bottle hit the wall and he growled to himself. He clenched the arms of his chair then getting up he threw it too. "I will win this war," he roared and resumed his destruction "I will reclaim what is mine and no one, not Cobblepot, not his damned gang, and certainly not that bitch Tsuki will stop me!"

Charlie:

(Songs: 21 Guns (Green Day), Imagine (The Beatles, especially important) I Wish You Peace (The Eagles), Dead Hearts (Stars), This is War (Thirty Seconds to Mars), Angel of Darkness (Alex C), War (Edwin Starr), Stop Children What's That Sound (Buffalo Springfield), Life on Mars (David Bowie))

Charlie was many things; he was a professor at Hyperion University, he was a consultant for the FBI, he was a math genius and he was friends with a lot of strange and interesting figures and he was bad at spelling (though he hated the mere idea of admitting to that) and he used to not believe in ghosts until one took up office next door to him at the University. One thing he wasn't was a soldier. The disagreements between the Braginski family and the Penguin Gang had always been there; two powerful mafia families in one city, it wasn't a stretch to assume they would be naturally at odds with each other. Territory disputes, arguments over rights, the occasional shootout; he wouldn't say he liked them, at all, but faced with the current situation Charlie found himself wishing for those days when things were somehow easily. But no, Oswald had to make things personal and now Charlie was witness to things that made the shootouts tame. Making his way from his home in the residential parts of the city, he passed: a member of Ivan's family holding down a teenaged boy wearing a suit and holding a gun to his head; a long line at one of the few groceries stores in what was now Northern Hyperion with shaking children clinging to their parents hands; the city hall boarded up but with windows ablaze with light as those inside tried to "wait it out"; Ivan's men patrolling Main Street where the border was designated, all to keep out their enemies, while in the background a young man looks around with fear in his eyes as he crossed the line, clenching a philosophy textbook to his chest for dear life. He almost felt like a monster for it but his heart hurt the most at the sight of the boy and he watched as the boy was seen and with wide eyes approached by the patrollers, guns held up. The boy dropped his book and Charlie moved to help him but felt a hand grab his wrist and looking at the owner, Amita pulled him along, dragging him really away. Her expression was stern but in her eyes was sadness no less than his. The University was in no better state.

In truth it could almost be called worse. There were a good number of students who lived in the nearby apartments and student housing yet the campus felt like a ghost town. Only a few came, only a few were brave enough even to try, and they scurried across the lands like frightened mouse. Not half because of the presence of the men who wandered the grounds with barely disguised intention.

Charlie was reminded of how most of the lecture halls had been "graciously and gladly offered to the Braginski family for use in first aid services and medical treatment". Translation as Charlie understood it; they took over the lecture halls, for tending to the injured yes, necessary with the hospital in Southern Hyperion, but notably it was for the members of the family. No civilian interestingly had been brought there... "Amita," Charlie spoke, his voice a bit a hoarse; having loud, angry discussions with the dean of the University for hours on end tended to do that, even if it was last night, tended to have an effect.

“Hmm,” she said; she knew without him speaking, “Charlie...”

“This isn't right.” He said this a lot. This wasn't right, this wasn't fair, this couldn't be. Hyperion University was supposed to be a bastion of knowledge, a sanctuary for those who wanted knowledge; he could still remember the noise of the campus only a few weeks before with all the students about and the excitement and the feeling of being in front of class and dealing with that. He remembered how it felt to watch his students be startled by some strange demonstration about some fact of life, like his lecture involving roulette and black jack....

But no, this was not how it was now. His school, his students, this was not what he wanted to see. And knowing that the dean did nothing but let it, allowed in the cause of the trouble...

Well, not the full cause. There was more and his chest started to tighten as he thought to himself something he didn't really much like himself. He didn't want to blame it on them, it wasn't their fault as more than it was his. Then that student from that morning shone in his face again and he looked at Amita, “We should have helped him.”

“He'll be fine,” she tried to reassure him, smiling in her gentle way, in her loving way; she kissed his cheek but it didn't make him feel any better, “They'll give him a warning and he'll find his way here.”

Warning huh? Like what; a lost finger? An arm? Maybe a bullet to the stomach, throw him back into the southern half, leave him to die, assume that he would be found and taken to Universal Hearts General. He didn't like the idea of the warnings and he shook his head, continuing to walk.

He walked down the halls. He walked through the buildings. He walked to his office and he walked to his table and Amita tried to follow until he grabbed a piece of chalk; he was starting to lose himself and he knew it wouldn't help any longer, having her there, “Go.”

His words were harsh but she knew they meant no harm; giving him a sad look she left the room, closing the door behind her. With that he started the same cycle.

P = NP.

P does not equal NP.

P versus NP.

The powers to which N is raised is made to be propotional to the set of problems known by the collective P.

But this was confusing.

Charlie didn't find math confusing. Charlie found math beautiful and simple and easier than humans and this problem, as complex as it really was, made his mind settle. He was not alone in his mind, there were thousands, countless numbers, but he counted them all and he tried to count them all. He put them in order and he tried to make order of chaos.

This was chaos. The warring was chaos and he hated that, because he couldn't count the humans and problems and situations and put them back in order and he couldn't fix any of it as easily as he found it easy to put together the numbers into a line. Even if P versus NP still refused to be solved.

It occurred to him he had class; he always had class. But he had so few students now; only one or two managed to get to the University now. Soon it would be none. Would he just do the problem then? Should he drown in the numbers?

He wanted to, he really did. He wanted to drown. But he remembered Amita.

No, not enough.

He remembered the school and the students. He liked them a lot; he loved the school. That's why he had yelled at the dean after all. That's why he had fought so much; he wanted the dean to tell the Braginski to get lost or at least help out the students who kept getting hurt too and he wanted them to let the students come to school. And no one listened.

That just made him dive deeper.

What about The End then? Not the end in the general, The End as the specific, the bar. He also liked the bar.

He didn't want to blame Tsuki for not talking to Oswald and telling him to fix things.

He wanted to go listen to come good music.

He wanted to do his math problems and listen to the music and talk to Tsuki and Tommy and everyone and see his brother...

Don had gotten hurt too; he wondered if Don had been taken to Universal Hearts or if he was forced to survive with what little was at the FBI medical wise.

This was getting out of hand.

He turned around and threw the chalk at the wall, breaking it. The chalk, not the wall. His mind was not focused, he was wild and uncertain and too many things were getting through and not enough was getting resolved and it hurt. He just wanted things to go back to how it was. And he wanted to help fix things. He liked that; he liked to help people. He liked helping Don with his cases. And he liked advising his friends about things in their life. And he liked being able to use his math skills to help others.

But nothing seemed to come to him; how can he quantify a conflict? How can he solve a war?

He rubbed his head, feeling it pound as too much was coming in and nothing seemed to be coming out, muttering to himself, “I can't handle this, I just can't.”

It all had to end. It just did. Grabbing his bag he ran out of the room, managing to open his door first of course; he'd try with the dean again, get him to understand, to see how this whole thing, just letting the family walk in and on them, was not helping anyone and especially the students. And then maybe he'd just go rest in Amita's office; she was soothing. And go to The End too, after work. Get everything in order and then the problem could be solved.

Right, that's how it's supposed to be, he told himself.

Tommy:

(Songs: Stronger (Kelly Clarkson), Welcome to the Black Parade (My Chemical Romance), The Plagues (Prince of Egypt), Bleeding Out (Imagine Dragons), I Will Not Bow (Breaking Benjamin), Dead Hearts (Stars), This is War (Thirty Seconds to Mars), Angel of Darkness (Alex C), Warriors (Imagine Dragons), Icarus (Bastille), Who We Are (Imagine Dragons), Ready Aim Fire (Imagine Dragons), You Want A Battle (Bullet for My Valentine, especially important))

Tommy got the feeling waking up that morning today was going to be a very exciting day. Kim was already when he got up and while part of him simply told him that it was because she had to go to the studio for early practice, he couldn't help revisit the night before. He threw the sheets off him and walking to the bathroom to shower before getting dressed for the day, his mind went over their conversation. Well maybe not conversation; more halfway argument. The two Rangers had tried the night before to help with some peacekeeping with their fellows and the police officers who weren't fearing Oswald or Ivan too much; the result was nothing that surprised him. A lot of fighting, a lot of temptations to call the Dragonzord on some idiots, and a lot more nothing; Kim was the one with the latter opinion. Tommy thought it a success that they managed to help some civilians and even broke up one fight between Ivan's men and Oswald's, but returning to their shared loft Kim was unhappy and Tommy was worried about her. The argument came of the same thing it always did though and standing in the shower he groaned, letting the hot water try to clear away the tension. It wasn't that he didn't agree with her on a level, it was hard not to, but no, he also didn't agree. As much as Kim was frustrated and anxious, with the barricades and fighting and violence and problems with getting anywhere or getting enough food, he refused to blame it all on.... From what felt far away a phone rang and snapped from his thoughts he quickly finished his shower, turning off the water and wrapping a towel around himself he walked out of the bathroom and grabbed the phone from its cradle, almost dropping, "Yea?" "We need you to come in early, Dr. Oliver," said the familiar voice; Principal Randall always sounded the same, like she was two seconds from going for the throat, "Get here by nine." Tommy frowned and checked the nearest clock; 8:30. He cursed silently, when leaving right then that was cutting it close but knew better than to argue. He was too tired to argue with someone else so soon. "Fine, I'll try." "Mmhm." With that the line went dead and he sighed. Yup, very exciting day. Tommy got dressed far more sloppily than he normally preferred; still struggling with his tie, why did he even wear these things anyway?, he got downstairs and fished his keys out of his pocket, climbing into his Jeep. Normally driving in was no trouble, he could get there easily in fifteen minutes but with the war going on... He got to Main Street and stopped. It always went like this: He would get stopped by one of Ivan's men, sometimes Oswald's on the way back, and asked what he was doing. He was tempted, strapped for time as he was, to just snarkily say "You know who I am, I'm the same science teacher you see everyday, that you will continue to see everyday and will likely never stop seeing everyday until either this squabble ends or I finally get killed in the madness." But that was not what he ever said; instead hr flashed his faculty ID, like he always did, and was allowed through, like always, and driving towards the high school, today more than ever, he wondered why. Why didn't he just tell them that? Why didn't he tell Randall to piss off when she asked for what she knew to be at the very least very difficult? He was Tommy Oliver, Power Ranger Extraordinaire, mentor as much as fighter; he stood down much scarier yet his tongue was stayed every time. Why was he feeling so subdued when he would rather be fighting tooth and nail? No answers, but of course; what answers could silence bring? And with that he drove into the parking lot of Solaris High School and tried as always to just find his damned parking spot. He managed to run inside with a few minutes to spare; Randall was waiting for him, but of course she was, and looking at him she raised an eyebrow before shaking her head. She approached him and from behind her he could catch Vice Principal Synder snickering, the little toad. Tommy straightened up as Randall fixed his tie for him. "You are to take over the in-school suspension room today." Tommy blinked, confused. "Something happen to Mr. Giles?" The librarian was usually in charge of that, being as he was one of the teachers who didn't teach a class regularly. In addition unlike Synder and Randall, also teachers without classes, he actually liked the students. "He said he had a medical emergency," Synder said with a sneer, "Probably faking it to avoid the students, not that I can blame him." Tommy really hated Synder, but he bit his tongue and looked at Randall; she was often no less unfriendly but she at least was more manageable. "I'm assuming you already got someone to fill in for me." She nodded. "Severus agreed to take your students for the day." Tommy winced, not sure if that was a good idea but knew it was better than perhaps others they could have chosen; he just hoped the foul tempered potions master didn't do anything to his poor students. He nodded and both the principal and vice principal left. He sighed; very exciting day. For whatever reason there were more students in in-school suspension today than he ever expected. Usually one or two, maybe three or four; ISS was after all a rather harsh punishment, only treated as a step below the final punishment of long-term suspension. Despite the wishes of the administration, expulsion was not something Solaris High School indulged in, something that made Tommy feel at peace at least; in his experience none of their students were capable of anything that could really make them worth really expelling. They could be troublesome, but full out criminals was not in them.

But this? By the time third period came around he had gotten what seemed like almost a full class of students and they ranged:

Kira had been playing outside, again, without permission. ISS for her, being her twentieth infraction of the same thing.

Conner had skipped class and upon being caught, getting into trouble with Ethan who also had skipped, both boys were sent directly to Tommy.

There was Buffy whose only crime seemed to be crossing Synder's path, like it was every day. Along with her was her friend Xander, looking mostly bored, and her friend Willow, who looked mostly scared.

Tommy was a bit surprised to see Kyoya, the head of the disciplinary committee, in there as well and the note he was handed, with a vicious glare from the young man, stated it involved violence. But of course it did.

There were students from all over the school and even a junior high student or two, like Kyoya; the junior high, Helios, was kept on the ground behind the high school so they did often share. But still by Tommy's count there were at least twenty students, almost enough to be the bare minimum for a class, a startling thought. He wondered what it was that was going on.

He was in the middle of telling Willow about the advancements in dinosaur DNA and categorization he had managed to make the other say over at the University when... BAM! The explosion shook the building and bits of the roof rained on them lightly; Willow almost was thrown to the ground but Tommy managed to grab her, watching as the rest of his students nearly fell out of their seats, the few sitting on tables clinging to their tables since there was really not enough chairs for this many students in the ISS room. Ethan, who had been working on some computer program on his laptop, and Kira, who had been practicing in the back, and Conner, who had been sleeping, all looked up and staring at him for a moment ran to the window. Tommy righted Willow and joined them.

It was not a monster attack, the four Rangers realized that immediately; it was much worse. Tommy paled and turned to the students, screaming, “Get out of the room, now!”

The students, startled by their teacher's sudden aggression, just blinked at him for a moment before rushing for the door.

All too late; as Buffy tried to open the door to let the others follow she was suddenly and unceremoniously grabbed. They wrapped their arms around her, holding her tight and Tommy was a bit surprised they even could hold the Slayer so well; more of the invaders rushed in and pointing guns at the students, managed to round up those who tried to run. Tommy felt his heart fall then another explosion and the wall he stood by started to crumble. Conner grabbed Ethan and Kira, pulled them back, only to end up in the huddled circle in the room where their classmates were; Tommy watched as more arrived.

They were dressed in black clothes, like the SWAT team uniforms but more military; he recognized the emblem on their outfits and paled. The Braginski family; it made his blood run cold looking at them, thinking about this. The family who ruled the northern half of the city right now, who should be protecting the school, was attacking it.

One man, official looking and heavily scarred, walked up to Tommy. He was taller than Tommy. He was bigger than Tommy. And he had a big gun in his hands unlike Tommy. Everything about him oozed intimidation and fear; everything in the glare Tommy gave him spoke of the utter lack of impression he felt at the giant before him.

With a sneer the man moved to hit him with the gun but Tommy moved to avoid it. He heard behind him the click of guns and turning his head he saw the guns of a few of the men in the school itself, who had entered the room, pointed. At his students. His heart fell again and he felt the gun of the big man slam into his head.

His vision swam. He could swear he tasted blood in his mouth, and for a moment he wondered if he was dead already. But no, there was still noise; he hear yells, orders and the sound of at least one student, he thought it was Kira but it might have been Ethan or Willow or maybe Kyoya, call out his name, “Dr. Oliver!”

“Insolent fool,” the man said, spitting and kicked Tommy over.

Tommy groaned but after a second was able to see again and after another second managed to get up, if only to sit up; he looked up and the giant was even more giant. “What do you want?”

“This place allows in the spawn of those flightless freaks,” the man said; of course he was talking about the Penguin Gang, Tommy thought to himself. Of course he knew it to be false but the problem was that the majority of the students did come from what was the southern half of the city now, and that was just as bad as being their kids in the Braginski's eyes, “The king says we should give you all a little lesson.”

“I wasn't aware of a change in curriculum,” Tommy muttered and got a kick to the head; now that hurt. But he was good at taking hits; he just spit out the blood, luckily no teeth, and looked up at the man.

He sneered, “You Southerners are all the same.”

“We Hyperions are the same,” said the meek voice of Willow and Tommy's eyes widened; he turned quickly, “No! Leave her alone!”

One of the men cocked his gun, pointing it directly at Willow's head and the young girl's face revealed the utter terror. Buffy started to scream and struggle but being slammed into the nearest wall in response she stopped, going limp; she was unconscious but it did not make Tommy feel better. Conner and Xander both moved to try and grab Willow but got their own set of guns pressed against the back of their heads and had to stop. Kyoya fumed and looked ready to pounce but one of the other students,sweet and timid Chrome, managed to get him to stop.

Tommy wanted to help them but he couldn't move from where he was; he couldn't morph with his morphers all in his bag by the teacher's desk. He couldn't even get up without knowing that they would likely shoot the students before he could do anything. He was powerless. And being a Power Ranger that was the worst feeling he had had in a long time.

He turned back to the leader of the group and looked up at him, “Tell them to leave my students alone.”

“They're worthless little birds, all from that jester's court; why should we?” the man said, “What is in it for us?”

Tommy did not have an answer to that. The man gave him one, smirking. “You. You're the leader of the Rangers in the city, aren't you? You're friends with Tsuki Kokuryuu.”

That did not sound good. “Tell you what; we'll leave your precious little students and your little school alone but you have to do one thing for me.”

“What?” Tommy asked, regretting it immediately.

“You will go and tell that woman to force the leader of the Penguin Gang to give back the girl,” the man said and crouched down to him, “I know she can do that; everyone knows that Tsuki and him are friendly. And rumor has it so are you and her.”

Tommy was quiet for a moment. But it was not because he was thinking. It was always this; even Kim thought it. Tsuki was the key, Oswald needed to give the girl he took back to Ivan, Tommy needed to tell Tsuki to do it... yet more than any of that he felt his blood boil more hearing the implications in the man's voice.

Screw safety; in a swift and angry movement he headbutted the man as hard he could, knocking him over. He then jumped up and turned to try and make sure his students were okay.

The other men had been distracted. Long enough for Conner to use his super speed to slam two of them into a wall. Long enough for Kyoya to grab his tonfas from his bag and beat another five to a bloody pulp within seconds. Long enough for Buffy to regain consciousness, or maybe she'd been awake all along, and getting free assist in the collective butt kicking. Kira grabbed a chair and smacked someone with it and Ethan used his armor skin to block some bullets before helping Conner slam into people, alongside a rather excited Xander screaming “Viva la Problem Children!”

Tommy could only stare. And after a second, laugh. The students were fighting back. The students he had worried about protecting only moments before were defending themselves. And he had been worried about not doing anything, had thought not to do anything. And for just that morning he'd been feeling subdued when students much younger, much less experienced, fought.

He kept laughing even as they took down all their enemies and the students stared at him. He then wiped an eye and walked over, walking over bodies, not the dead but throughly broken, and spoke, “Come on kids, we should probably take back out school.”

Tsuki:

(Songs: Angel of Darkness (Alex C), Welcome to the Black Parade (My Chemical Romance), Icarus (Bastille), It's My Life (Bon Jovi), Daughter of the Moon (Adriana Figueroa), Demons (Imagine Dragons), This is War (Thirty Seconds to Mars), I Will Not Bow (Breaking Benjamin), Bleeding Out (Imagine Dragons), Pompeii (Bastille), Our Solemn Hour (Within Temptation), Dead Hearts (Stars), Wine Red (Hush Sound), Truth Beneath the Rose (Within Temptation, especially important))

Jason had not yet come in for work when the others arrived. Roderich was helping Tsuki with some early housekeeping details and both looked up from their seats at one of the far tables to see Kim walk in first. Or rather stalk angrily; behind her Tommy followed, looking equal parts exhausted, worried, and upset, and not far behind Charlie and Amita brought up the rear. The former was looking drained and it left Tsuki wondering what was going on. Not that visits by her favorite teachers, and their lovely girlfriends, were uncommon; Tommy and Charlie often were the first customers she had of the night but this was different, that much was obviously. Tsuki stood up, brow furrowed in concern for the tension her friends brought with them. "Kim, Amita, boys wha-" Her sentence was cut short as Kim slapped her. The noise reverberated through the otherwise quiet room and Roderich got to his feet with wide eyes. "Kim!" Tommy yelled and grabbed her arm before she could do more, dragging her back. Kim simply glared at Tsuki who stood there, hand to her cheek, surprised and staring back at her as the pink Ranger spoke, "Fix this." Tsuki lowered her hand and as Roderich tried to move she held it up once more, this time to stop him. She directed Kim, "Fix what?" Her words were crisp and punctuated but she was angry; she knew what Kim was going to say before she could say it. It was pretty obvious; turning her gaze to the others she noted their own expressions. Charlie's surprise at Kim getting violent, the concern on Amita's face, and the anger in Tommy's eyes; it occurred to her that something was different in each of them, a decisiveness that made their emotions only more clear to her eyes. Something had happened in the last twenty-four hours. "Make that man stop this fighting," Kim said to her and Tsuki raised an eyebrow at her, "I know you can, Tsuki." "Roderich, could you give us a few minutes?" Tsuki asked head turned only slightly to address the pianist; he blinked then nodded his head before bowing out the room by way of the side door. Once the five were alone she sighed and took her seat again, pushing up her glasses to rub the bridge of her nose. "Now...I assume by 'that man' you mean Oswald?" "We know you're in communication with him," Kim said and frowned, "Tell him to just give the woman back and get this ended." "The woman," Tsuki started her gaze cold, "has a name." Spitting venom with her words Kim stepped back into Tommy in surprise of the aggression; he put a hand on her shoulder for a second then pulled away, walking over to stand between the two women. "Hey, lets be civil about this okay?" "But Tommy," Kim said. "No buts," he responded, head turned to look at her, "Now apologize for hitting Tsuki." Kim looked startled by this and she simply stared for a moment before sighing. "Fine, I'm sorry." Tsuki waved it off; honestly the violence had been far less annoying than Kim's calling Sabrina "the woman". Tommy smiled some and patted Kim's head, letting Charlie speak next, "Tsuki probably is in contact with Cobblepot-" "I am, I won't lie." He frowned her interrupting and she gave him a sheepish smile. He went on. "She is in contact with him but that doesn't mean she can just tell him to end this war and give Sabby over to Ivan." "My cousin is no bargaining tool," Tsuki said, taking a lollipop from her pocket and popping it in her mouth, "I'm not going to ask him to treat her like one." Kim frowned and stepped towards her, barred from actual close contact by Tommy. "Ivan and Oswald certainly seem to think of her as some prize, enough to turn the city into a war zone. Tsuki, you have to do something, anything! Everyone knows you're the only neutral zone, there has to be a reason for it." "Because I'll shove a pool cue up a place the sun don't shine if they try to start anything here?" Tsuki offered, eyebrow raised; no one laughed at her bad joke and she groaned, rubbing her head, "Look why would you think Oswald would do anything other than laugh if I tried to tell him what to do?" "You're friends aren't you?" Amita asked, speaking up finally and looked to Charlie for a moment, "He'd at least take your counsel to mind." "Yeah, what Amita said," Kim said, "Come on, at least talk to him; besides wouldn't you rather see the city at peace? Just tell him to give Sabby back to Ivan; I'm sure she'll be happier with her beloved than as a hostage." Tsuki's hand clenched and Tommy, noting, looked to Charlie before turning to Kim again. "Kimmy, maybe not that..." She looked at him in confusion. "What? She would be I'm sure; I mean it would be like taking me from you. I'd want to come back to; honestly I would fight to get back but I guess Sabby being the way she is-" "Shut up, Kimberly," Tsuki said her voice sudden ice; Tommy frowned and looking to Charlie the two men realized a danger the girls were not as aware of. Kim was taken aback by the harsh words and blinking she then turned back on her own coldness. "No, I won't shut up. I know she's your cousin and all but if letting her go back to Ivan will end all this fighting-" "I will not condone her being forced to go back to that monster!" Tsuki screamed, slamming her hand down on the table and the four jumped. She glared, though it was not for Kim or Tommy or anyone there; Charlie knew though, Tommy knew, and rubbing her head again in frustration Tsuki sunk into her chair, "Go." "Tsuki," Amita started, stepping forward but Charlie stopped her. She looked at him and he gave her a gentle smile, "Go on, wait in the car." "What about you Charlie?" She asked. "We'll try to reason with her," Tommy said and pushed Kim outside, Charlie leading Amita after him, "You two just leave it to us." Kim frowned and looked ready to argue but he closed the door and locked it. She stalked away from the door and Tommy sighed. "You're going to get an earful about that," said Tsuki's voice softly. He laughed bitterly. "Yeah well I'll worry about that later. Charlie, lets have a drink." The college professor blinked at his high school colleague and then followed him to the bar; Tommy jumped the counter and grabbed a bottle from behind. He didn't really care which bottle; he just wanted a drink. He was pouring it out when Charlie sat down and Tommy spoke, "Tsuki, get your grumpy butt over here and drink with us." She frowned and huffed, arms crossed. "No thanks, I don't want anything." "Wasn't an offer." "Not your alcohol to offer anyway." Yet she got up and dumping herself onto one barstool she grabbed the bottle from Tommy, the man hanging a glass to Charlie at that moment. "This is my good vodka," she said semi-sullenly. Charlie downed the glass in one gulp and winced. "That's really strong." "Tsuki likes it strong," Tommy said and making his way back to the other side of the bar he took a seat between the two and grabbed back the bottle; he poured out two more glasses, and refilled Charlie's. He picked his up, "Cheers." Tsuki and Charlie did the same and blinked their three glasses together before taking a drink. The Russian water barely burned her throat on the way down, or maybe she just didn't notice it as much; she stared at her drink and Tommy continued to use up her good vodka. Finally she spoke again, "I can't." "Can't what, buttercup?" Tommy asked pouring out another glass. "He hurt her," she said, continuing as if he hadn't spoken, "I can't just tell Oswald to give her back to him; Kim is wrong. She's safer with Oswald..." "I know," Tommy said nodding. Charlie frowned. "Tsuki, outside of the three of us and those three no one knows about what happened, of what Ivan did to her; Kim and Amita still think it was just an accident." Tsuki frowned too now and she stared at her glass for a moment, swirling it around; seeing the tears forming in her eyes neither man really thought. Tommy leaned over and wrapped an arm around her, Charlie getting up out of his seat to do similar. She held back any sobs very well. “That monster made my cousin....he is a monster and I do not care what Kim or Amita or anyone says. I am not telling Oswald to give her back to Ivan, not now, not ever.”

“We know, Tsuki,” Charlie said and awkwardly rubbed her back, “I know.”

Tommy sighed and pulled away, letting Charlie take over the physical comfort; he looked at the bottle for a moment before taking a big swig. The vodka stung a lot but it didn't much matter. “You do care, Tsuki. We both know you do; you love this city and you love its people and you love singing in this little hole in the ground you call The End and you love-”

He stopped then shook his head, “Kim thinks you are in charge here though which we both know is bullshit. You're not, any more than I am, any more than Charlie is. You're just a player.”

There was silence for a moment before with a solemn nod Tsuki shook off Charlie and grabbed the bottle from Tommy; she took a swig too then coughed. “Oswald's the one with power here; it's his choice.”

Frowning as he watched them Charlie then moved and took his place as the third member; he took his own large gulp of the potent vodka and muttered in the end, “Let's hope he makes the right one then...”

Oswald:

(Songs: Angel of Darkness (Alex C), Angel With a Shotgun (The Cab), Welcome to the Black Parade (My Chemical Romance), You Want a Battle (Bullet For My Valentine), Absolute Beginners (David Bowie), Demons (Imagine Dragons), For the Heart I Once Had (Nightwish), This is War (Thirty Seconds to Mars), Warriors (Imagine Dragons), Ready Aim Fire (Imagine Dragons), Cantarella (Miku and Kaito), Hand of Sorrow (Within Temptation), Memories (Within Temptation), Our Solemn Hour (Within Temptation), Dead Hearts (Stars), Swan Song (Within Temptation), The Plagues (Prince of Egypt), Oni to Musume/The Ogre and the Maiden/Demon and Daughter (Kaito, especially important))

It was time. Victor of course wanted to be the one to go; the master assassin was always itching for a fight and more so against the enemies of their gang. Or the allies. Or civilians; really anyone he came across. Of course he was a little twitchy because some time during the conflict he'd been commanded by the boss that no civilians were to be harmed, the bloodshed was to be kept to a minimum and to only fight if the other side initiated it. Personally he blamed the songbird. Oswald was frowning at himself in the mirror, taking stock of himself. He was short. His right foot was awkwardly oriented, a fact that made Oswald bristle. His hair, despite not having showered yet, looked wet and stuck to his head in awkward spikes. Dressed in one of his suits, not the finest he had of course but one of the nicer ones, he looked a little too much like a... "Penguin," he muttered to himself and scowling hobbled his way away from the offending thing. This would never work, it wasn't going to work. "Oswald?" A voice called out to him and he snapped away from his thoughts, head turning towards the doorway to his bedroom. Sabrina was standing there, holding onto the door frame. It occurred to him she still didn't know her way around the mansion yet and that she even made it here on her own was impressive. In addition he ended up noting the fact she wasn't wearing the short cut dress Ivan had her in back at his place; with a tinge of amusement and irony she wore instead a black suit, tailored to her form, her black hair braided over one shoulder. She reminded him of Tsuki in a way. He didn't realize he was smiling until she tried to walk over to him and stumbled over the slight hitch in the couch; it was then he frowned and moving fast as he could with his bad leg he tried to catch her. She landed against him and he, despite his own displeasure and the pain it caused, put enough pressure on his injured leg to keep both standing; he winced but of course she wouldn't see that. She turned her head up from his chest to look at him and blinked, "Oswald?" "You shouldn't be wandering around without an escort," he said trying to sound tough; why did she have to appear now of all times? Maybe it was a good sign... She pouted and pulled away. "I'm not a child; I do not need a babysitter." No, he said in his mind but not aloud, watching as she crossed her arms only for the mildest sign of panic to cross her face and she reached out to grab his arm, blank red eyes searching blindly for something she would never see; you're not a child. He smiled instead at her, in his awkward Oswald way and put a hand on hers, seeing relief wash over her face. No, she wasn't a child but she was a bit helpless. "Where are you planning on going?" She asked him, running her fingers over his sleeve. "What makes you think I'm going anywhere?" He inquired already guessing the answer. She smiled at him and slid her hand up to his shoulder. "This isn't one of your normal suits; it feels different, softer. Are you going somewhere fancy?" Fancy was not the word he was thinking of and he watched as her fingers moved to the small gem on his cross tie. She chuckled and stroked it gently, "What color?" He blinked then spoke, "Red." He saw her face light up and smiling lightly he went on, "A deep vibrant red, bright and shimmering in the light, akin..." Oswald caught himself and she looked confused. Biting his lip he spoke, "Blood. It looks like solidified blood, a tiny little blood stone." It wasn't entirely a lie, it really wasn't. It wasn't a lie but it wasn't the full truth. Sabrina though seemed to believe it anyway and smiled happily, "Bloodstones aren't pure red though, silly." "You have me there; its cuprite," he said and put a hand over hers, "I should get you back to your room." "You didn't answer where you're going," she said, blinking as he gripped her fingers. "Out; I'll be back soon," he said and pulled on her, leading her out of the room, "You just...stay in your room. Don't leave it again until I come back." He knew that wouldn't go over well; she made a soft whine and tightened her hold on his hand before speaking, "Can't I come with you?" "No!" He yelled it before he could think and turned on her; she was frightened by his voice, he could see it. And he thought back, back to when he first met her, when the thought to take her had first crossed his mind; that look in her eyes as Ivan had dragged her out of The End that night, sadness and a forced smile and fear. She was afraid of him now too and while only a few months before he wouldn't mind it, what did he care of the prize being afraid, no let her be afraid of him, now... Now it was empty and it hurt. He didn't want to scare her; he was going to go bring the war directly to the king's doorstep and it would not be for a prize, for the songbird or a woman or Tsuki's cousin. It would be for Sabrina. He pulled her to him, awkward, uncertain, but still and he entangled his fingers in her braid. "No, you stay here. Victor will watch out for you, I told him to guard the manor while I'm gone but you have to stay inside. Once I'm back..." Once this was over.... "Don't go," she muttered and he froze; her fingers clenched the front of his shirt, tight as she could but still so weak, "Please don't go. Don't go to him, don't give him what he wants; just stay here, please. I don't...want you to go, Oswald." Ivan didn't want him, Oswald thought though; he knew, she knew it. What the mad king wanted was not the jester who bit his legs and made him a fool but the songbird the jester stole, the princess with the quiet stare. And no, he had no intention of giving that to Ivan. Still his arms held her close and he did wish, a cowardly part, the part of him that was forever there and strong, to not go. To stay there with her. "I'll be back soon. You just listen to Victor and stay in your room; once I'm back we'll go to The End. We'll go see Tsuki and Tommy and Charlie and Jason and Alex and Roderich and everyone and you can sing for them and things will be...”

Better. He let go of her and before she could argue against his words, an argument he was not so sure right now he could win or would really want to deep down, he pushed her into her room. Locking the door he did his best to ignore her, to ignore her cries, to ignore her please. This had to be done and turned down the hall he noticed Victor approaching, the bald assassin looking at him with slight amusement. Oswald frowned, “Do not let her out of the room.”

“And don't let any of Ivan's peons near her room, right,” Victor recited by memory; as Oswald walked by him he spoke again, “I don't normally really care but I will say this I guess; be careful, boss.”

Oswald was stricken for a second by the concern, the sort of concern, then shaking his head he continued, calling back, “Tell the chefs to have dinner ready by four. I will be back shortly.”

Victor chuckled under his breath. He really didn't believe that, but if it made Oswald feel better, walking off to war as he was, to face down the big bad himself, then more power to him. It was finally time; could a flightless wobbling bird really take a mad king?